When Will I See You Again (32 page)

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Authors: Julie Lynn Hayes

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: When Will I See You Again
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“Please…both of you.” She included Alexx in her glance, and he warmed at her concern.

“I will, Mother,” Raoul promised. “We both will. We’ll look out for one another. I will let you know what happens as soon as I can. Please, do not worry for us.”

“I can’t help it.” She attempted a smile, but it was slightly crooked. “I took an oath as a mother, remember?”

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, then freed one arm to envelop Alexx as well, and all three embraced tightly. Before she released them, she squeezed Alexx’s hand and mouthed, “Thank you,” before excusing herself and disappearing in the direction of the study. They let themselves out, taking their accustomed places in the Ferrari without a word.

“What are we wearing tonight?” Alexx asked once they’d gained the privacy of the cabin in the woods, as much to distract Raoul as anything else. Clothes didn’t matter to him, but he knew Raoul liked to look nice. He certainly had the body for it, so why not? “Do you have something else I can wear?” Something better
than what he’d brought. He still didn’t know where Raoul had gotten that first suit, and he hadn’t worried about it, but another one would come in handy. In hindsight, perhaps they should have done some laundry, but he wasn’t even sure if Raoul owned a washer and dryer or if he took his clothes out to be done. Alexx suspected the latter.

“We’ll find something.” Raoul seemed distracted, pacing back and forth before the sofa with great long strides. Unfortunately, due to the confined space, he was forced to curtail his steps at the wall, turn and begin again.

“Let’s go look now.” Alexx halted Raoul’s progress as he traversed the length of the room, taking his hand. “Is there something in that room?” He nodded toward the second door, the locked one. He’d meant to ask about it before, but had forgotten. In fairness to himself, he’d had other things on his mind.

“Maybe,” Raoul replied enigmatically, but he made no move to unlock the door, so Alexx pulled him into their bedroom instead.

“Let me see what there is—” His words were abruptly cut off as Alexx pushed him into a seated position at the end of the bed.

“What are you—”

This time, his question was stemmed by Alexx’s lips that covered his completely in their urgency, and he felt Raoul surrender to the need in both of them. Boldly he straddled Raoul’s lap, his fingers quickly going to work on the buttons of his shirt.

He had a definite plan in mind, and he refused to accept anything less than what he wanted.

When Raoul tried to help, he whispered, “No, don’t,” pushing his arms to his sides. Refusing Raoul’s cooperation, he single-handedly divested him of the shirt and discarded it on the floor beside the bed, running the palms of his hands across the well-sculpted planes of Raoul’s chiseled chest. He felt Raoul’s moan when he touched his dark nipples, felt them harden into lust-filled nubs. He sucked one between his lips and ran his tongue over it lightly, inducing deeper moans.

“What are you doing to me?” Raoul murmured, but Alexx didn’t bother to reply as he sucked the other hardened nipple into his mouth, mimicking his ministrations on the second nub. He gyrated in Raoul’s lap as he sucked, slowly and deliberately, felt Raoul’s cock harden against him, felt the swell of it against his own. Reaching between them, he undid Raoul’s belt, unbuttoned his fly and pulled the zipper down, careful not to entangle him in the teeth. Once the zipper had reached the end, Raoul’s cock sprang out, hard and already wet, and Alexx palmed it eagerly.

Raoul tried again. He reached for Alexx’s shirt, but Alexx forestalled him. “No, not now, this is about you,” he insisted, climbing from his lap, which produced moans of protestation.

Alexx eluded the hands that sought to keep him in place.

“Just wait,” he counseled patience. Kneeling at Raoul’s feet, he removed his expensive shoes, followed by the thin black socks he favored, massaging each bare foot in turn, flexing the muscles and rubbing each toe, soothing and relaxing them before placing them back on the floor. “Now stand,” he commanded and Raoul obeyed, having ceased his struggles to do anything other than what he was instructed to do. Alexx slid his trousers down his long legs where they pooled. “Now sit again.” He pulled the pants completely off and tossed them aside, too.

Alexx pushed gently against Raoul’s knees, widening the space between them. He took up a position between them, looking up into Raoul’s beautiful gray eyes. “I love you so very much.” He kissed the inside of one muscular thigh. Raoul shivered. “I only
want you to be happy.” He kissed his way up that thigh until he reached the apex, where he buried his nose in Raoul’s dark nest of hair, taking in his unique scent. “And safe.” He grasped Raoul’s weeping cock with his left hand, pumping it lightly even as he coated his fingers with the salty fluid. Every movement planned, everything in good time and calculated to please.

“Lean back just a little,” he directed and slid his lubed hand between Raoul’s cheeks, spreading them to allow better access.

Raoul gasped as Alexx entered him with first one finger and then a second, scissoring them to relax the ring of his guardian muscle. He felt the tightness of Raoul’s channel grab at his fingers, enveloped in all that velvety heat. It felt so good, so right. He’d never done this before, but instinct guided him as he probed for the spot that would give his lover maximum pleasure. When he found it, he was rewarded with Raoul’s gasp, followed by a yelp of pure delight.

Alexx hit the spot again, even as he took Raoul into his mouth, all the way down to the end. It felt natural to hold him there. He fit perfectly, and how could Alexx doubt that they’d been made for one another? He couldn’t.

With one hand, he continued to peg Raoul’s prostate, while he sucked his cock as hard as he could, swallowing the pre-cum that had become an almost steady drizzle in his mouth. When he dared to glance upward, he saw that Raoul’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back, an expression of supreme bliss upon his face, his beautiful lips parted in ecstasy.

He didn’t need to be told that Raoul was close to his release.

He could sense the signs, knew it almost as well as he knew his own orgasm. He’d never felt closer to Raoul than at this very moment, and he wanted to make him feel the same way, to know
that it was Alexx, and no one else, who brought him to this. His head bobbed up and down on Raoul’s shaft, sliding faster and faster as he urged the moment forward, using hand, lips, and gums to bring him to a boil, adding his thumb to the slick fingers inside of him.

Raoul trembled, his body vibrating as he began to release, his fingers clenching in Alexx’s hair, anchoring himself there while he came, hard and fast, before falling backward, pulling Alexx along with him. Afterward, they scooted up along the bed until they reached the pillows, and curled up together.

“It’s your turn,” Raoul began, but Alexx softly shook his head.

“Later. That was just for you.” He yawned, nestling against Raoul.

“We have a little time before we have to shower and get dressed.

We should sleep.”

“I love you, Alexx.” Raoul kissed the top of his head, throwing a protective leg across him. Alexx’s last thought before sleep claimed him was he needed to call Miller when they woke up.

He’d just had a scathingly brilliant idea.

*

After their nap, Raoul sent Alexx off to take a shower, telling him he’d take care of the matter of their wardrobe and then join him. He waited in the hallway with bated breath until he heard the sound of the running water. He knew Alexx wouldn’t come out before he came in but he was taking no chances. He wasted no time in unlocking the room next to his own and slipping inside.

Normally he would have taken time to properly pay his respects, but this evening he was in a hurry. Photos lined one wall, most of them taken by himself, but some of them couple’s
portraits, utilizing his camera’s automatic timer. He’d set this room up when he’d bought the cabin, after Jamie died. Jamie’s parents had given him most of his things before they’d moved away from Crescent Bay. They couldn’t deal with the memories of what happened, and broke all contact with everyone they’d ever known.

His belongings were painful reminders to Raoul as well, but his guilt over Jamie’s death compelled him to keep them. The room was a veritable shrine to his late lover, a memorial of what was and what should have been. But tonight, it was simply a place where his clothes hung, and Raoul had need of them.

He’d done it once before, borrowed one of Jamie’s suits for Alexx. Now the need had arisen again. Raoul knew that Jamie would understand and not mind. Surely it was no coincidence that his clothes fit Alexx perfectly?

He chose a pair of camel slacks, a dark blue shirt with a silver pattern. Draping the garments over his arm, he paused before a framed photograph of the two of them. Taken at their senior prom, it showed two happy, smiling young men, arms about each other, prepared to take their place in the world. It seemed like another lifetime entirely. Beneath the portrait, in a small box that sat on a table, were two rings—the rings that Raoul had intended to surprise Jamie with at the Ball. He’d never had the heart to part with them, although they were a constant reminder of love’s lost promise.

“Jamie,” he whispered, staring into the eyes of his dead lover.

There was so much he wanted to say, to explain—about Alexx, most of all. How he felt about him, how much he loved him, and how much he wanted Jamie’s blessing.

But words failed him, and a stab of guilt pierced his heart. He forced himself to turn away and exited the room without looking
back, locking it behind him before he placed the clothes in his room and stripped to join Alexx in the shower.

Now it was nine o’clock, and Raoul was in his office at the nightclub, giving himself a last look in the mirror before he made his entrance. Alexx hadn’t been able to accompany him, of course.

They couldn’t be seen together, if this was to work. Jon had just finished personally wiring his godson’s office, and had placed a bug on Raoul himself. Although the term wire was something of a misnomer, as the surreptitious surveillance actually consisted of a wireless transmitter, a far cry from the bulky concealed wires of yesteryear. Working together, Jon and Philippe had managed to get an order from a judge allowing the wiretap, and Raoul had reluctantly agreed to wear one on his person.

Raoul turned to view himself from various angles. He wore a black silk shirt that clung in all the right places, and shimmered with an infusion of gold threads. He left it unbuttoned far enough to give an enticing glimpse of skin beneath, calculated to make Foster’s mouth water—disgusting as that thought was—and hopefully loosen his lips. His pants were black leather and fit like a second skin, showing off his ass and legs to perfection. A pair of expensive black boots completed the picture.

“I’m done, Raoul, you can quit admiring yourself now.” Jon came up behind him, pretending to vie for space so he could preen in the mirror, flashing him a good-natured grin.

“Very funny.” He turned to face his godfather. “Just making sure your bug doesn’t show.”

“It doesn’t, trust me.”

Raoul took a deep breath. “Then let’s do this, yes?”

“Absolutely. Just don’t try to play hero, okay? I’ll give you time to get downstairs, and then I’ll head down and scoot out the
exit to the surveillance van. Philippe and I’ll be there, listening.

Once Foster incriminates himself, it’s all she wrote. Assuming that he does, of course.”

“I’ll make sure he does.” Raoul set his lips in a grim line. He walked quickly away, not waiting for a reply, and moments later he was in the elevator, heading down to Charisma.

He’d barely entered the car when he heard Jon’s voice in his ear. “Testing. One, two, three…testing. Can you hear me, Raoul?”

“Loud and clear,” Raoul murmured.

Emerging from the hallway into the nightclub, he saw that business was booming, even for a Monday, which was usually an off-night for restaurants and bars. The fascination with Charisma kept them coming in droves, tourists and locals alike. The lure of the dark side, the thrill of the unknown. The dance floor was comfortably full, and at least half the tables were occupied. Raoul glanced over the faces of his customers. Many of them were familiar to him, and a number of them were strangers, but he was seeking one in particular while trying not to appear to do so.

There he was, not surprisingly, standing at the bar. Foster had a habit of lying in wait for him there. Raoul hasn’t realized it before, being too caught up in his own pleasures to notice that Foster must have been stalking him. Looking back, it seemed all too obvious.

Tonight, Raoul predicted that Foster would make the first move. In fact, he was counting on it.

Raoul approached the bar, taking his accustomed position, never acknowledging Foster’s presence. He caught the bartender’s eye. Conall was on again tonight. Within moments, Raoul had a mixed drink in his hand. The glass was chill against his flesh, a welcome distraction, helping him focus as he surveyed the crowd.

He turned his wrist slightly and glanced at his watch, at the
sweep of the moving hand as it ticked off the seconds. Three, two, one… Right about now. As if on cue, the phone behind the bar rang, and Conall grabbed it.

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