Zack and the Dark Shaft (3 page)

“I like the outfit.” Quincy gave him the once-over and licked his lips, unabashed when he met Zack’s gaze again. “That blue complements your eyes.”

Zack didn’t know whether he meant the black-striped, cobalt blue polo shirt he was wearing or the navy jacket he had on over it, and he didn’t care. He was just glad he could put a pleased smile on the man’s usually somber face, made even more so since Zara’s death.

“Uh…thanks.” Zack wanted to make all kinds of comments about

Quincy’s surprisingly laid-back attire, miles away from the crisp corporate gear he usually wore, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

“I’m glad you made it,” Quincy said, voice reverberating and butter-melting, dark eyes serious and sincere.

Zack had to remind himself not to sigh before he responded with a,

“Someone from the Benjamin clan had to represent.”

Quincy chuckled, put a hand on Zack’s shoulder and squeezed. “And I can’t imagine Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin popping in for a nightcap.”

Zack’s mother and father’s idea of evening entertainment went more along the lines of a thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner party or fundraiser for some political bigwig. Neither of them would be caught dead in a hot and trendy nightclub, especially not a gay club like
Zara’s
.

Granted “hot and trendy” clubs came a dime a dozen, but the gay

landscape was a new player, and remarkably lucrative with lots more earning potential than just another vanilla club.

Despite the positive numbers and his own preferences, however, Zack initially had his doubts when Zara first approached him with her idea. But once he 18

Gracie C. McKeever

saw Zara’s business plan, and consulted with Quincy and Quincy’s other investors, he’d seen what his sister had described before her death as

“possibilities.”

Zack smiled at the idea of his mom and dad surrounded by what amounted to riffraff and upstarts in their eyes. Even now he could hear his mother apologizing in her inimitable way with a, “Not that there’s anything wrong with you or your people, Zack.”

“No, I wouldn’t count on them making it,” he said, and he and Quincy both laughed.

“Look, I’ve got some last-minute details to take care of, but the place is already jumping as you can see.” Quincy waved a hand at the floor where at least a hundred people were dancing and standing at the main bar. Damn, the club had just barely opened for the evening. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I circulate and make nice with the natives, and if you need anything come get me.”

Zack had no safe reply for that one, so he said nothing. When Quincy suddenly leaned in, his heart leapt and sped at the other man’s body heat and nearness.

“Don’t forget to save me a dance,” Quincy planted a soft kiss on the corner of Zack’s mouth before nibbling the flesh as if to emit a message…or a warning. “Preferably slow,” he murmured before standing straight.

Zack gaped when Quincy walked away, wanted to frame a picture of the man’s firm, round ass for future reference.

Why take a picture when you can have the real thing?

Zack closed his eyes against the suggestive voice in his head and wondered how much longer he was going to have to put up with it before he finally lost it altogether.

Not much longer, brother. Not much longer at all.

Zack and the Dark Shaft

19

Quincy dodged several groping hands and requests for a dance when he made his way through the sinuous throngs and straight to his suite of offices at the back of the club.

He closed the heavy ebony door, squeezed his eyes tight and leaned back against it while he took several deep breaths. He’d finally done it and there was no turning back now. Hell, passes didn’t
come
anymore blatant than the things he had said and done to Zack. Surely the man couldn’t ignore Quincy’s challenge?

He waited for the regret he expected from a foray into taboo territory, or maybe a bolt of lightning to strike him for his disloyalty, but nothing came except anticipation and hunger at the idea that Zack would finally take him up on his offer and see him as more than just his dead twin’s best friend.

He hadn’t been so turned on or unsure of himself around a guy since he’d first come out at sixteen, and he had to admit that Zack made him feel like a horny teen 24/7.

Quincy wasn’t sure if it was Zack’s rebel-with-a-cause, socially

conscience aura that incited him so much, or his ethereal beauty and lean, surfboarder’s body. He just knew he wanted the man in the worst and best possible ways and had since their first meeting five years ago when Zack had popped by Zara’s just from a Peace Corps stint in Kenya.

Quincy and Zara were friends for a few years by then and understood each other’s neuroses: Zara’s parents tried to buy their children’s love with money, and Quincy’s single mother blamed her alcohol and crack addiction on his homosexuality.

Thus, Zara and Quincy figured they were an instant match made in hell, reveled in and recognized this while they spent their days turning negatives to 20

Gracie C. McKeever

positives, partying, studying and making plans to get away from the root of their problems at home.

The same height as his sister at 5”9, his head barely reaching Quincy’s shoulders, Zack burst onto the scene fresh as the future and whimsical as his sister, but with a grounded and selfless edge that almost belied the twins’

connection.

Smaller stature notwithstanding, Zack’s energy and thirst for life immediately turned Quincy’s head no matter how much Quincy questioned the wisdom of getting involved with the brother of a girl who was already hopelessly in love with
him.

Just a blink of Zack’s indigo eyes and a lick of his full, luscious lips and Quincy had been a goner. His well-exercised libido in overdrive ever since Zara introduced him to her older-by-six-minutes brother.

So what are you doing hiding in here?

Quincy couldn’t help thinking that the one person who could have helped him answer that question, the one person he would have
trusted
with his dilemma, was the dead twin of the object of his affection.

How freaking ironic was that?

Quincy swallowed against the rising tide of grief and loss that rose up in his throat, threatening to drown him. He had a flash of an argument he’d had with Zara one of the first times she’d borrowed money from him for one of her schemes. He told her not only that he didn’t trust her scheme, but that he wouldn’t trust her to set a clock for him.

Despite that he’d eventually given her what she’d asked for, and though the insult seemed to roll off Zara’s slender, carefree back, Quincy winced now at the memory of it.

Damn this! He wasn’t one to wallow in guilt or self-pity and he definitely wasn’t one who left things to chance. When he saw something he wanted, he went after it. Zack Benjamin should be no different.

He needed to go out there and press his advantage before Zack had a chance to think about everything that was wrong with a relationship between him and Quincy, and convince Zack of everything that was right.

Zack and the Dark Shaft

21

* * * *

Almost three hours later and Quincy still hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Zack, much less dance with him. He’d been too busy being a manager and running interference between security staff and unruly customers, or quashing a number of mini crises involving food and beverage distributors.

He had to settle, instead, for glimpses of Zack playing the bell of the ball and dancing the night away with several different bois and twinks while he was stuck handling business.

He wasn’t normally a jealous man, but Zack was in his house, and this was his time these new jacks were hogging. Not that he could blame Zack’s partners because if Quincy was free he would have been monopolizing the man’s dance card for the rest of the night.

Quincy finally got some free time around midnight and went in search of Zack.

For the first time since Zack had arrived, Quincy didn’t see the other man on the dance floor. He looked for him at the principal bar and the several tables dispersing the main floor. Having no luck in either of these venues, Quincy took a chance and ascended the acrylic, spiral stairs to the VIP lounge where, sure enough, he found Zack dozing in one of the several half-moon leather couches lining the mirrored walls. He was sandwiched between two other guys who were wide awake and sipping some fruity concoctions from each other’s glasses.

For an instant, Quincy wondered if the two men in question had put something in Zack’s drink or otherwise drugged him. He knew how some of these twinks operated and that a couple got their drugs passed even his alert security and bouncer staff.

Quincy had already personally ejected a couple of patrons that night for getting high in the bathroom, didn’t play that shit especially where his business was concerned.

He wavered now between storming across the floor to extricate Zack from the cozy tableau or just punching out the other two guys’ lights before carrying Zack off to his suite and tucking him into the queen size bed he had there.

But then, Zack sat up, knuckling his eyes before glancing at Quincy and smiling like he knew what was on Quincy’s mind. “Hey, big handsome.”

22

Gracie C. McKeever

Quincy barely heard him over the salsa song that was reverberating throughout the club, but he crossed the carpeted floor, drawn like a lost soul to the light. He stood by the glass table to glare down at Zack’s companions. “Move it or lose it,” he growled.

The two guys didn’t hesitate, immediately scrambling off the couch and from behind the table without giving Quincy or Zack a backwards glance.

Quincy slid in beside Zack, resting an arm on the back of the sofa behind the other man’s head. “Decided to hang up your dancing shoes for the night?”

Zack ducked his head ever so slightly, and Quincy’s heart tightened at the flush of color that rushed to the other man’s high-sculpted cheekbones.

Damn he wanted this man under him, over him, all around him and soon.

Five years of waiting was long enough.

“Just taking a break,” Zack said.

Quincy pushed several wavy strands of caramel hair away from Zack’s face and tucked them behind his ear. “Got enough mileage left in those tootsies for a whirl on the dance floor with me now?”

“I’ve got all kinds of energy for you, Quince.”

Quincy frowned at the nickname. It wasn’t that uncommon for friends and relatives to shorten his name—Zara did it frequently, especially when she was upset with him—but Zack had never called him “Quince.”

He wondered exactly how many drinks Zack had had tonight. He’d seen him with at least one but wondered if that was enough to loosen the other man’s inhibitions enough to make a night with Quincy seem a viable option.

As much as it pained him to do so, Quincy decided to give Zack an out just in case. “I know you’re not used to hanging out like this, what with your early hours teaching and all. I’ll understand if you—”

“Speak for yourself, old man.” Zack scooted to the opposite end of the couch and stood up. “Never let it be said that I let someone of your advanced years dance me under a table.” He extended a hand, palm up and waved his fingers in a come-and-get-me gesture.

Quincy laughed.

Zack was only a year younger than him, but when he smiled at Quincy the way he did right then, he looked like a naughty teen.

Zack and the Dark Shaft

23

“You know how much I like a go-getter.”

“We’ll see how much you like it once I get you on the dance floor.”

Quincy walked around the table, caught Zack’s hand and pulled the other man against his body, smiling when Zack fell into his chest and stared up at him with so intense a look of hunger shining out of his blue eyes it rocked Quincy from his head to his toes. “Do you know what you’re getting into?”

“I have an idea.”

Quincy followed Zack’s tongue when the tip came out to lick the lips he wanted to taste. He licked his own lips, cock heavy and hard in his pants.

Throbbing. “C’mon.” He dragged Zack down the stairs behind him and onto the dance floor among the crush of rocking and rolling bodies, seeking safety in numbers.

Now that he had the man so willing and close, he didn’t want to ruin things by rushing. He wanted to take his time romancing, at least for the next couple of hours. He figured he’d survived this long, he could hold out a little longer.

* * * *

For the next couple of hours, Quincy was treated to a side of Zack he had never seen before: a wild party animal. The younger man danced with tireless energy and rhythm, downed drink after drink and flirted like a horny frat boy but still had coordination to keep up with Quincy’s sober strides like he didn’t have an ounce of alcohol in him at all.

If Quincy didn’t know better, he would have sworn the man was

possessed. Not that it mattered one way or the other since he decided he liked this side of Zack—the footloose and fancy free side that was so different from Quincy’s own usual, all-business demeanor.

“I should have bet you some money to see who would conk out first.”

Zack draped his arms around Quincy’s shoulders from behind while Quincy sat at the main bar.

Quincy chuckled when the other man bent his head to stick his tongue in Quincy’s ear, slowly tracing the shell until Quincy shuddered.

24

Gracie C. McKeever

“I like making a big man like you tremble in his motorcycle boots,” Zack whispered.

“Oh you do, do you?” Quincy swiveled around in his seat and caught Zack around the waist. “You’re playing with fire, little one.”

“I can take the heat. Besides—” Zack bent his head again to trace Quincy’s lips with his tongue, “—the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“I fell for you a long time ago,” he admitted and wondered who was tipsier now: him or Zack. When he caught the answering look of longing in Zack’s eyes, however, he knew he had done the right thing in pursuing the other man tonight. He knew that he had done the right thing to admit his feelings. He only regretted he wouldn’t be able to take full advantage and experience the wonders of Zack’s slim, smooth body any time soon.