Waiting for a Prince (9 page)

pillow. When he got back to the living room, Sam’s eyes were closed, his breathing even, his

mug balanced precariously on his lap. Mark put down the bedding and gently disengaged Sam’s

hands from around the mug, before setting it on the table. He placed the pillow at one end of

the sofa and eased Sam into a horizontal position, his head resting on the pillow. Mark tugged

off Sam’s trainers and socks, and then spread out the sheet over him.

“Thanks.” The whispered word pierced the quietness of the room.

Mark smiled. He looked down at Sam’s face, his forehead creased. “Get some sleep.”

Sam stirred, small noises escaping from his lips. “I’ll be across the hall if you need me.”

Straightening, he went into the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. He placed it within reach on the coffee table and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Mark slipped off his robe and slid naked under the cool cotton sheet. He lay on his back

and stared up at the ceiling. His thoughts were fixed on the man sleeping in the room across

from him. He didn’t understand what was so important that Sam would go to such lengths to

find him, especially after the way he’d reacted in the pub. Hopefully, all would become clear in the morning. Mark closed his eyes and tried to ignore the ache across his eyes.

It was a long while before sleep took him.

51

Mark cautiously opened his eyes and blinked in the sunlight which poured through his

bright yellow curtains. He glanced at the clock beside him and did a double take: it was already nine.
Fuck
. He rarely slept this late. He yawned and stretched his body under the sheet—and froze when he came into contact with a warm, solid body which definitely hadn’t been there

when he’d fallen asleep. He jerked away, rolling onto his back, and stared in disbelief.

Sam lay beside him in the bed, his head nestled in the pillows, eyes closed. Mark caught

his breath. Sam’s upper body was bare. Mark lifted the sheet carefully and peered beneath it.

Fuck—Sam was nude. Mark’s brain went into overdrive. What the hell was Sam doing in his

bed, and how long had he been there? Mark sat up, all sleep driven from him.

“Morning.”

He jerked in surprise. Sam gazed up at him, his expression watchful. He blinked

sleepily.

Mark pulled the sheet up around him, dimly aware of the absurdity of this action. The

man had seen him naked on the beach
twice
, for goodness’ sake. “What are you doing in my bed, Sam?” He kept his tone even.

Sam’s eyes opened wide. “The way you’re reacting, anyone would think you’d never

had a guy in bed with you before.”

Mark stared at him meaningfully. “That might be because I’ve never
had
a guy in bed

with me before.” Inside he cringed. What did that say about his sex life? Then it hit him. “Oh

my God. Did I…did I
ask
you to come to bed with me?” The state he’d been in, anything was possible. He remembered getting into bed, but after that? There was no recollection of inviting Sam. And just because he didn’t remember saying anything resembling that, didn’t mean it

hadn’t happened.

Sam hastened to reassure him. “God, no! I… I woke up a couple of hours ago and I… I

didn’t want to be alone.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I just assumed…”

Mark stretched out his hand across the sheet and grasped Sam’s hand. “Really, it’s okay.

It was just a bit of a shock, waking up to find I had a bed partner.” A bit of a shock was

52

It was just a bit of a shock, waking up to find I had a bed partner.” A bit of a shock was

something of an understatement. He tilted his head. “A bed partner who seems remarkably calm

about being in bed with a gay guy.” That last thought gave him pause. “Anything you want to

tell me, Sam?” He kept the tone light, but in his head there was a list of questions which was growing longer by the minute.

Sam paled. “Oh fuck…” he said weakly. His gzae dropped to the sheet which covered

him. Mark pulled back his hand and threw off the sheet. He got out of bed and picked up his

robe from where he’d dropped it earlier and pulled it on. He stood at the foot of the bed and

gazed at Sam.

“I think you and I need to talk, because right now, I’m confused. I’m going to make

some coffee.” He turned and exited the room. Inside his head was a mass of tumbling,

convoluted thoughts. He thought back to the hurt he’d felt when Sam had accused him of

manipulating the situation. Sam had been the epitome of the indignant straight guy.
But a

straight guy doesn’t climb into bed with his gay friend, does he?
And judging by Sam’s reaction just now, there was more to this than not wanting to be alone. He switched on the kettle and

dumped coffee into two mugs, his thoughts never straying far from the man in his bed. The one

thing that refused to leave him was the thought that Sam had looked damn good in it.

From behind him, he heard movement. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam pulling

on his jeans, his face flushed. Mark turned back to his task. When he picked up the two mugs

and went toward the sofa. Sam sat on the edge of the seat cushion, his torso and feet bare,

elbows resting on his knees, head in hands. Mark set the mug down in front of him and then sat

at the opposite end of the sofa. A little distance was required right now.

Mark sipped his coffee, wincing as the hot liquid burnt his lip. The silence spun out

between them until it was almost tangible. Sam wouldn’t look at him. Finally, Mark couldn’t

stand it any longer.

“All right, talk to me. That’s what you came here for, after all, wasn’t it?”

Sam looked at him warily. Mark kept his face neutral.

“I’m sorry about what I said last night,” Sam said at last. “I had no right to say those

things. I knew as soon as I said them that you wouldn’t do something so… so…”

“Underhanded? Mean? Sneaky?” Mark suggested. Sam nodded unhappily. Mark pushed

out a long stream of air. “Then why did you leave like that?”

53

Sam hung his head. “Because if I’d stayed, I might have told you the truth,” he

whispered.

Mark stilled. “The truth? So that implies what, that you’ve been lying to me?” Sam kept

silent. Mark put down his mug and moved closer, until he was sitting so close to Sam that he

could feel the heat pouring off him. “Come on, Sam, you’ve gotten this far. Don’t stop now.”

His heart pounding, Mark stretched out a hand and cupped Sam’s chin, tilting his head upward.

Sam’s lovely blue eyes had a tortured expression in them. “It’s okay,” Mark whispered.

Sam blinked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed several times. He straightened

and looked Mark in the eye. “I’m gay, Mark.”

Mark froze, staring at him in confusion. “What?” The words wouldn’t register in his

brain. “I don’t understand.”

Sam stared at him miserably. “I’m gay.”

“Since when?” Mark demanded. A thought suddenly hammered in his brain. “Oh, God,

you’re not gonna tell me that
I
have anything to do with this, are you?”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, no! I’ve known I was gay since I was in high school.”

Mark’s mouth fell open. “You what?”

“Remember me telling you that Mr. Edwards was the one who caught me on the

computer, watching porn?” Mark nodded. “Well, what he didn’t tell anyone was that it was gay

porn.”

Mark was dumbfounded. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted quietly. “He said he had to inform the Head, but that the…subject

matter would be our secret.” He gave a wry smile. “I’d always wondered about him. Well, I

stopped wondering after that. He was so cool. We had this long chat one day after class. He was the first person I told. I was just starting to be interested in guys, and it was a really confusing time.”

“I still don’t understand,” Mark persisted. “You’re passing yourself off as straight. Hell,

you have a
girlfriend
!”

Sam wrung his hands. “Mark, there’s no way I can be gay. My dad…. My dad just

wouldn’t understand.”

Mark’s heart went out to him. Apparently, that was one thing they had in common. “If

54

Mark’s heart went out to him. Apparently, that was one thing they had in common. “If

that’s the case, then okay, I get it. But why not stay single? Why go to the lengths of having a girlfriend?”

Sam stiffened. “I…I don’t want to talk about Becky, all right? It’s…it’s complicated.”

He gazed at Mark imploringly. “Besides, there’s something much more important that I want to

discuss.”

“What?” Mark’s brow wrinkled—and then the breath caught in his throat as Sam leaned

forward and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm. Mark let out a soft moan and cupped

Sam’s head, deepening the kiss, flicking out his tongue to lick the seam of Sam’s lips, tasting him. Sam groaned and reached for Mark, his tongue demanding entrance. Mark was lost in the

heady moment.

Until reality bit—hard.

Mark pushed at Sam’s chest, breaking the kiss.

“Wait a minute!” He struggled to get his breath back. Sam stared at him, wide-eyed, lips

parted. His cheeks were flushed.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, his chest heaving.

Mark gave him an incredulous look. “”What—you thought you’d tell me you were gay

and that would be it? Next stop, between the sheets?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Sorry,

Sam, it doesn’t work that way.” He shivered. Despite his protestations, the kiss had shaken him to the core.

“But…. But…” Sam’s voice quavered. “I kissed you—and you kissed me back. I didn’t

dream that part, did I? That
was
you moaning just now?”

Mark shifted away from him. “So? I’m attracted to you. Hell, you heard me last night.

That wasn’t a lie.” He softened his voice when he saw the confusion etched across Sam’s face.

“Yes, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy. But none of that matters.” Mark swallowed.

“You have a girlfriend, Sam. And I’m sorry, but I will not be a party to you cheating on Becky.”

His chest tightened as he said the words.

Sam gazed at him incredulously. “So you’re telling me you only have sex with single

guys? You check every guy who ever comes onto you to see if he’s wearing a wedding ring?”

His lips twisted.

Mark met his gaze. “Yes, actually.” He picked up his mug and took several mouthfuls

55

Mark met his gaze. “Yes, actually.” He picked up his mug and took several mouthfuls

of coffee. Sam was staring at him in startled silence. Mark sighed. “Okay, so I have no idea if they’re in a relationship or not. They’re only there to get blown or fucked. But I
do
look, every time.” He fixed Sam with an intense look. “But that’s beside the point. I don’t know every guy I hook up with—not that there have been
that
many, I hasten to add—whereas I
do
know you.

I’ve met Becky.” He shook his head once more. “I’m sorry, Sam. Much as I would love to take

you into my bedroom right now and fuck your brains out,”—Sam jerked his head back in

surprise—“I’m not going to.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Sam spoke. “You… want me?”

Mark chuckled. “Oh God, Sam, you have
no
idea how much I want you.” He watched

Sam’s pupils dilate, and that simple physical reaction spoke louder than words ever could. “But we can’t,” Mark stressed, as gently as he could. Even as he said it, he felt his cock harden, his nipples tighten into hard little nubs. God, he ached. He looked down at his mug of coffee,

deliberately avoiding Sam’s gaze. He heard the hitch in Sam’s breath and waited for his next

words.

“You’re right.” Despite his words, however, there was no mistaking the note of

reluctance in Sam’s tone.

Mark heaved a sigh of relief. He’d instinctively known that Sam was an honorable guy,

but it was good to hear him confirm Mark’s faith in him. It didn’t stop Mark’s heart from

sinking, all the same.
Why in God’s name do I have to be so principled
?

“Would you mind if we talked some more?” Sam’s question was almost shy.

Mark smiled. “Not at all. I have some questions of my own.” He watched as Sam

nervously gulped down his coffee. Mark had an idea. “How about we go somewhere and have

some breakfast? I know somewhere quiet where we could grab a couple of bacon sandwiches

and sit and look at the sea. What do you say?” He mentally crossed his fingers. Anything to get Sam out of his flat and away from the temptation of taking him to bed. Having principles was

one thing, but Mark wasn’t Superman by any stretch of the imagination. He had no idea how

long he could resist the lure of those blue eyes, that tight body. Right now, he was fighting the urge to stretch Sam out on the couch under him and trace every tattoo with his tongue, and play with the silvery rings through his nipples, tugging at them with his teeth.

Thankfully, Sam appeared to like the idea. “That sounds good,” he acknowledged. “Can

56

Thankfully, Sam appeared to like the idea. “That sounds good,” he acknowledged. “Can

I ask a favor, though?” Mark waited expectantly. “Would it be okay if I grabbed a quick

shower? I was sitting on the beach for a good few hours last night, and I feel kind of sandy.” He flushed as he looked down at the couch. “I hope I didn’t get sand everywhere.”

Mark got to his feet and collected Sam’s empty mug, along with his own. “Sure. I was

going to have a shower myself. You go first. I’ll find you a towel.” Sam gave him a grateful