Chapter 14
TIM
Icrave Mark.
Hunger for him in a way I’ve never hungered for another guy.
We just saw each other the other night, but the longer we keep this up, the harder it is when he has obligations that prevent me from being able to fuck him.
So I’m pissed that he’s supposed to be at one of his hoity-toity fundraisers tonight, especially since I have deliveries to make tomorrow and the next night.
There are several big mixers at the fraternities that my clients want to be fully-stocked for, but I don’t know how I can manage three nights without seeing my hot piece of ass.
I pull up alongside the downtown Marriott.
When he first sent that text about me meeting him here, I could tell he was half-joking, but I was deadly serious.
His suggestion got me thinking. I imagined slipping into the fundraiser, weaving my way around the party and cornering Mark in some secluded area.
Taking him the way he needs to be taken.
I know he’d like the danger of possibly getting caught.
So what began as a silly idea became a mission.
I pull a Nikon camera out of my bag. It can’t take any pictures.
Just has an impressive flash and a long-ass telephoto lens.
I got it off eBay because when I was first working with Roy, he told me the best way to get around events is to look like a photographer.
That along with a button-up, tie, slacks, and a confident attitude can get me in just about anywhere.
I head inside and see a woman checking people’s tickets as they enter the ballroom with the signage for the fundraiser.
I glance through the doorway to see if Mark has arrived. Can’t see him.
When I approach the woman taking tickets, she eyes the camera and waves me in, offering a friendly smile.
A woman speaks at a podium on a small stage before a projector that flashes images of kids. Tables are packed with guests. I’m still searching them for Mark but don’t see him, and I don’t see his mother anywhere either.
I notice another photographer taking pictures around a few of the tables. I make like I’m taking my own pictures and start approaching guests for photos. The photographer glances at me as though he’s glad one of his own is here. I offer a friendly smile and wave.
“And now I’d like to introduce,” the woman at the podium says, “someone who needs no introduction. She is the face of this organization. She isn’t just a woman who cares about this issue, but the mother who has walked the walk…
the hard path of being a mother of a child suffering from leukemia.
She is a beacon of light in dark times, and she’s here to talk to us today about the importance of donating to help with this research.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll please offer a warm welcome to Governor Darlene Kenmore. ”
Applause.
Darlene, Mark, and Mark’s father step out from behind the screen the video is being projected on.
Mark smirks. Seems like a sort of rehearsed expression he makes at these sorts of events.
In a navy-blue suit, he looks adorable as ever.
His mother wears a white dress with blue stripes that are complimented by Mark’s outfit. It’s obviously designer. He and his father flank either side of Darlene at the podium.
I pretend to take pictures of them.
Darlene’s expression is serious. She looks tired. Defeated.
She pulls the mic stand up.
“Thank you, Kendra, for that beautiful introduction. I’m here with my husband and son today.
I brought them with me because I think it’s important for everyone to know and understand that what we’re talking about here today isn’t about a disease.
It’s about families. It’s about those of us who are affected by these tragedies… ”
She launches into her speech. Mark scans the room, and as I lower the camera, he sees me. He presses his lips together, as though he’s having to restrain himself from saying anything to give us away.
I shrug innocently enough, and he smirks—a smirk that assures me he’s happy I’m here.
His mother’s speech intensifies, her words clearly striking a chord with the audience as she becomes more impassioned.
“But when you’re standing over your dying child, wondering if they’re going to make it to the next day, then you’ll know what it’s like to truly be afraid.
Don’t let this happen to your child. Or anyone’s child.
Stand up today for empowering our future.
Stand up today so we can support the scientists who are looking to the future for solutions in times when all we seem to have are problems.”
She raises her fist. She appears determined—powerful.
Such a far cry from how she walked out here.
And now I realize I was duped. This whole thing has been little more than a performance to gain favor with the audience, who’s now erupting with applause.
They rise from their chairs in celebration.
Mark doesn’t appear all that pleased or impressed with his mother’s talent for moving the group. He has to be used to that by now.
The host of the event returns and invites everyone to enjoy the refreshments.
Darlene mingles as Mark makes his way around the projector screen, glancing at me, as if to say, “Get back here.”
But I know we won’t be talking.
I obey the implied request, heading behind the screen, through a doorway that leads into a room behind the auditorium.
Mark leans against the wall beside the door, hands in his blazer pockets.
Considering the speech his mom gave, I feel like crap for crashing the fundraiser and thinking I deserved to get some action tonight.
I know he’s bothered about his sister. I can see it all over his fucking adorable face.
And I know he’s wishing he didn’t have to play a pawn in her act.
“Sorry,” I say. “I had this stupid idea that—”
He comes at me, and before I know it, I’m in his embrace, his lips on mine, leaving me confused as hell.
He pushes me back to the wall on the other side of the doorway.
Opening his mouth, he slides his tongue past my lips as he grips my ass with one hand.
“Someone…might come…back here,” I say between kisses.
“They can deal with it.”
He breaks away for a moment and shuts the door, turning the lock on the knob. He attacks me again with kisses.
He reaches into my back pocket for the condom and lube I brought with me.
He smiles like he’s relieved to know they’re on me and that he knew me well enough to know exactly where they’d be.
Unfastening my belt and undoing my button, he doesn’t even bother unzipping my pants before yanking them down.
He rips the condom wrapper open with his teeth and then rolls the condom on my cock.
While he’s rolling it on with one hand, he puts the lube packet to his mouth and rips it just as he did the condom wrapper. He pours the lube into his mouth and then takes my cock into his mouth, discarding the packet on the floor beside him.
While he sucks on me, he makes quick with undoing his pants. He pulls my cock out of his mouth and rises, sliding his pants down to his ankles. He spins around, throws himself up against the wall, and kicks his shoes off. Then he steps out of the legs of his pants, moving them aside with his foot.
“Hurry before we get caught,” he says, though he doesn’t sound like that would be such a terrible thing to him. In fact, I think he wants that to happen. That some sadistic part of himself wants to ruin his mother’s career and image. Like he feels about the videos.
With him in this frenzied state—so desperate, needing my cock—I’m hard as ever.
He throws off his blazer.
His ass is exposed just beneath the tail of his shirt.
I hurry behind him, squat slightly, and push into him. His hole is tight, but inviting. He curls his fingers as he takes me, moaning with pleasure, but not loud enough for anyone outside to hear.
“Wreck me, Tim,” he says. “I need it tonight. More than ever.”
He stands on his toes as I enter him, resting my hand on his hip as I listen to his body, making my way cautiously within, allowing him to ease into it.
The doorknob turns.
“Shit,” I whisper.
He wraps his hand around and grabs onto my ass, keeping me from pulling out. I’m glad because I didn’t want to leave.
The doorknob rattles again.
“Mark?”
It’s Darlene’s voice.
“I’m changing!” he shouts, his head turned just enough so I can see his eyes roll back as he enjoys the sensations my cock is stirring within him.
“Changing? What are you changing for? The suit looks good. Did you even bring a change of clothes?”
He’s panting, struggling to regain his bearings enough to think of something to say, I’m sure.
“I grabbed a drink from the bar and spilled it on my shirt,” he says. “I have another in my backpack.”
“It’ll be fine if you button your blazer up. Mark, let me in—”
“Mom, now is not the time.”
She sighs. “Just get out here quickly. It’ll seem strange if you’re not mingling.”
“Okay.”
He continues breathing heavily.
He turns to me, desire in his eyes. They roll back slightly again.
“You like that cock in your ass?” I ask.
“How does it fucking hit all the right nerves like that? Fuck me. Fuck me hard. I need you to make me spew.”
I pick up where we left off, pushing into him.
He reaches his hand behind his head and grabs my neck, pulling me toward him.
My arms still around him, I clutch the placket of his shirt and he grips the other side with his free hand and pulls tight so it rips the top buttons off. We pull together and rip the rest.
Now I’m free to massage the muscles in his torso. His chest. Those parts of him that always feel so good to me.
He rolls his head back and revels in the sensations I’m filling him with.
As his shirt slides down his shoulders to his elbows, I find myself inspired. I pull it down and twist the shirt a few times pulling his wrists together where the cufflinks are still bound to his wrists.
“Fuck yeah,” he says.
I don’t just want to fuck him like this, though. I want his kiss. I rub my nose across his face. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted any other guy I’ve been with. I want to taste every part of his body. Spill my load in every dip in his flesh.
I hate myself for how greedy I am with him.
I release his shirt and pull out of him.
He turns to me, his expression filled with confusion.
“Step over your wrists,” I say. “So they’re in front of you.”
He obeys, and when he’s done, I lean down, wrap one arm around his back, and lift his legs with my other hand.
I kiss him as I kneel, lowering him onto the floor.
He surrenders to me, as he always does.
I set him down and raise one of his legs.
His abs shift about, looking ripped as ever as I slide back inside him. Although this time I get to appreciate his expressions, the ones that always tell me when I’m hitting his prostate. Those eyes that let me know every time they roll back how much ecstasy I’m giving him.
When I’m balls deep within him again, I rediscover my stride and grab his wrists and pull them back over his head. I release them and grip the sleeves of his shirt, holding them together so they act as his bindings.
His breathing is shaky as I take him.
He whimpers. I want to make him so happy. I want to leave his body reeling in the same passion that he leaves mine in after we fuck.
If he enjoys it half as much as I do, that’s enough to give me confidence in our fucking.
A knock on the door again.
“Mark…”
It’s a man’s voice. Probably Dr. Kenmore.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers.
And I don’t. I just keep fucking him as hard as I can. His head rolls either way, the way it does when I hit his prostate just right…when he’s getting close to coming.
“Hold up!” he calls to his dad. “I have a text.”
“People are wondering where you are. Your mom will have a fit if you don’t get out here and be seen for a while.”
As his eyebrows twitch in a familiar expression, I glance down and come is shooting from his cock, across his body.
He gasps quietly.
“Are you okay in there?” his dad asks.
“One minute!” he calls back.
I want to collapse on him, but if I do, I’ll have a mess of come all over my clothes.
I just gaze down at him, and he’s staring at me. Like he wants to get a look at my face when I come as much as I want to get a look at his when he does.
Sensations pool through my pelvis—a bomb of delight exploding through my nerves. My body pushes me through a series of movements that are beyond my control.
My pressure builds until I’m coming in the condom inside him.
Sweet, unbelievable relief.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” he says, his look suggesting the pun was intentional.
He cups my face with his hand, stroking his thumb across my cheek. It’s a gentle move—gentler than most of the things we’ve done. And he pulls his hand away quickly, as if he realized what he did totally went against everything we agreed to make this about.
But I didn’t feel all that bad about him doing it. If he’d left his hand there, I wouldn’t have said anything. Would have enjoyed it a lot more than I want to admit.