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Author: Colette Davison

Category: LGBT

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  “Ignore it,” Russel pleaded.

  Mac kept on kissing him, his body grinding against Russel’s, making them both hard. The ringing stopped but immediately started again. Still Mac ignored it. He tugged Russel’s shirt free of his chinos and rubbed his hands over the smaller man’s slim chest. He used his fingers to tweak, rub, and roll Russel’s nipples, making them hard enough to suck into his mouth. The fucking phone kept ringing.

  “Turn it off,” Russel panted.

  Mac grabbed his phone, with every intention of doing exactly that, except his stare tripped over the caller. He hissed in a breath. “It’s Remy.”

  “Oh.” Russel pouted.

  Seeing Remy’s name was like taking a cold shower. They both righted themselves so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. The phone had stopped and started ringing again.

  “I guess his daddy got our email.” Russel twisted his lips into a grimace.

  “I guess so.” Mac didn’t answer the call. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. “He’s going to rant at us.”

  “Almost certainly.”

  “We don’t need to listen to that.”

  “Nope.”

  Yet curiosity flittered in Mac’s stomach. He wanted to know what action Remy’s father had taken to send Remy into a desperate rage to contact them. He blew a breath out, answered the call, and immediately put it on speaker.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  Mac’s eyes widened at the venom in Remy’s voice. He was glad he hadn’t put the phone to his ear. The man’s shrill screech would have probably perforated his eardrum.

  “Do you know what Father’s done?”

  Mac opened his mouth to speak, but Remy carried on screaming before he had the chance to give his one-word answer.

  “He’s cut my allowance. He’s taking the house from me. He’s making me stay in some shitty little flat. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?”

  Mac didn’t even try to say anything.

  “How am I supposed to throw parties now?”

  “I’m guessing that was the point,” Russel said.

  “Oh, I might have known you were fucking in on this too.”

  “Actually, it was me who tipped your dad off, so if you want to rant at anyone, rant at me.” Russel squeezed Mac’s knee.

  “We both did it,” Mac said quickly. “Maybe you’ll think twice before trying to wreck someone else’s relationship.”

  “How fucking dare you!”

  “No.” It was an effort for Mac to speak calmly and clearly, but somehow, he managed it. “You don’t get to blame us for what you’ve done. All we did is expose the kind of man you really are.” He huffed in a breath. “You’re lucky we only sent the recording to your dad and that we didn’t go to the press with it. Trust me, I was fucking tempted.” All Mac could hear on the other end of the phone was harsh breathing. “Goodbye, Remy. Can’t say it was nice to know you.” He hung up and quickly blocked Remy’s number. “Good riddance.”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Russel rested his head against Mac’s shoulder.

  “Talk about a cock-block,” Mac growled. Hearing Remy’s vile voice had done a fantastic job of deflating his cock.

  Russel let out a mournful sigh. “Why don’t we move your stuff over to my place and get you settled in?”

  “Yeah, good idea.” Mac wrapped an arm around Russel’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

  “Babe, it’s no biggie. We’ve got plenty of time for you to get those caveman urges again.”

  Mac chuckled.

  “Are you okay?” Russel asked.

  “Yeah.” Mac hugged Russel tighter. “Just…” He sighed. “I’m glad Remy’s dad did something. But fucking hell, hearing that arsehole’s voice is always going to send a shiver down my spine.”

  “We can put it all behind us now.” Russel stroked Mac’s thigh. “We never have to see Remy again. We don’t even have to think about him.”

  “We kind of do.”

  “Oh?”

  “If it weren’t for Remy, we wouldn’t be together at all.”

  “Maybe.” Russel moved to sit on Mac’s lap. “Or we could just ignore Remy’s part in it all and stick to our fake hook-up story?” He leant close and whispered in Mac’s ear, “I like that story better.”

  Mac laughed. “Me too.” He kissed Russel softly and slowly. “Me too.”

  24 Russel

  There were two things Russel hated: getting ready in a rush and dressing for a date when he had no clue where he was going. He’d been shopping with a client all afternoon, an appointment he’d booked into his diary before Mac had suggested they go out that evening. He’d tried to persuade Mac to choose a different night, but his boyfriend had been oddly insistent. So he’d rushed home, only to have no clue what to wear because Mac hadn’t given him any clues about what their date would involve. He’d done his best, choosing a casual look of a linen shirt and faded jeans. Rather than spikes, he’d styled his hair so it flopped over his right eye. God help him if Mac was taking him to an upmarket restaurant; not that he could see that happening. The only time they went to really nice places was when they were out with Michael and Edward.

  A lot had happened over the last few months. Michael and Edward had bought out Horns and quickly changed both its name and its look. Russel had helped with the latter, which had given him the confidence to start his own business as a personal style consultant. It sounded posh, but what it really meant was he got to spend his time doing his favourite thing—shopping! Sonya had been his first client. He’d helped her find the most perfect wedding dress and some gorgeous outfits for her honeymoon. He would have taken her shopping for the sheer fun of it, but she’d insisted on paying to help kick-start his business. She’s also written him up a rave review on his Facebook page.

  True to their word, Michael and Edward had given Mac a job at Heaven and Hell. They’d actually given him a choice of jobs, but predictably, Mac had decided to go back to dancing. Not that Russel was complaining. Every so often he’d drop into the club and watch his boyfriend work the pole before dragging him home at the end of the next for hot sex. He was hoping their date would end in a similar fashion.

  “You’re early,” Russel remarked as he met Mac on the town hall steps.

  Mac kissed him lightly. “I knew you’d be early, so I had to make an extra effort to beat you.”

  “Well, don’t you look hot?” Russel gazed at Mac’s skin-tight dark pink shirt, jet black chinos, and polished Doc Martens. “I think you’ve outdressed me.”

  “Impossible. You look amazing, as always.” Mac looped his arm through Russel’s. “Shall we?”

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  Mac led Russel down the steps. “As it’s our anniversary, I thought we could recreate our first date.”

  “Our—” Russel thought for a few moments and realised Mac was right. It had been a year since he’d walked into Horns and asked Mac to be his fake boyfriend. He’d hardly class that as a first date, and Mac clearly had no intention of taking him to Heaven and Hell, or they’d have just met there. He frowned. “Uh, I hate to tell you this, but we never had a first date.” Unless they counted Remy’s party, but since they’d agreed not to mention his name again, he didn’t bring it up.

  “Sure we did. We went to a family-run Italian restaurant in the centre of town, remember?”

  “And then we saw a romcom afterwards.” Russel laughed. “Slight problem, it never happened.”

  Mac stopped and pulled Russel round to face him. He rubbed his hands over Russel’s shoulders, down his arms to his elbows, and back up in a repetitive motion that sent delightful shivers zinging down Russel’s spine.

  “That’s why I want to recreate it. So we can have those memories for real.”

  Russel grinned. “You soppy romantic, you.” He wrinkled his nose.

  “I am not.”

  “Are too.” Russel wrapped his hand around the back of Ma
c’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Lead on, babe. I’m looking forward to being wined and dined and then snuggling in the back seat of the cinema.”

  Mac let out a dirty chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. They have night-vision CCTV in cinemas, you know.”

  “You have a dirty mind.”

  “And you don’t?”

  Russel batted his eyelashes innocently. “Moi?”

  Mac stepped close and brushed his lips against Russel’s ear. “If you can restrain yourself during the film, I intend to take you home and ravage you.”

  Russel shivered. “Is caveman Mac back?”

  Mac growled and nipped Russel’s ear. “What do you think? I’m feeling strangely possessive this evening.”

  Russel bit his lower lip. “Can we skip the film?” He was half tempted to ask to skip dinner too, but he loved how romantic an idea it was to recreate their fake first date.

  “Maybe.” Mac slid his hand into Russel’s and started walking again.

  It was a brisk ten-minute walk across town to the tiny Italian restaurant in the very heart of the city centre. Even though it was a cool evening, the white metal chairs and tables outside were all occupied. As Mac led him inside the restaurant, Russel’s first impression of the restaurant was that it was cramped. A counter and serving area took up half the narrow width, leaving room for a single row of chairs and tables. At the back, there was a staircase that led downstairs and a doorway with green, white, and red plastic strands hanging over it. Italian memorabilia covered the walls: landscapes, cityscapes, opera posters, images of delicious-looking food and wine; it was a chaotic feast for the eyes. Opera music played over hidden speakers and, at that moment, a buxom woman with black, greying hair, was singing along to it. Her pitch was slightly off, but Russel couldn’t fault her enthusiasm.

  “Try the lasagne,” Mac suggested. “It’s amazing.”

  “That’s what we had on our first date,” Russel said, recalling their cover story. “That means I’ve already tried the lasagne.” He winked at Mac.

  “Try it for real,” Mac insisted. “You won’t be disappointed.”

  They ordered and then sat down at the only spare table, which was practically shoved into the far corner.

  “This place is… quaint,” Russel decided.

  Mac grinned. “You like it?”

  “I’m withholding judgement until I taste the food.”

  Mac kept on grinning at him. “In theory, you already know how great the food is.”

  “Then I obviously need reminding, don’t I? What did you eat last time? I can’t quite remember.”

  “Pizza,” Mac said huskily. “Meat feast.”

  Russel tapped his cheek. “I remember. Didn’t you fancy pizza tonight?”

  “Oh, I’ll be feasting on plenty of meat later. When we get home.”

  Russel couldn’t help but burst out laughing, prompting an odd look from the opera-singing owner as she put a plate of steaming lasagne and garlic bread down in front of each of them.

  “Thanks,” Mac said.

  “That was fast,” Russel said as the woman bustled away.

  “They make up huge batches and warm it up,” Mac explained. “The place is run by Giulia and her son.”

  Russel leant forward and inhaled the delicious scents of meat, cheese, and herbs.

  “Smells amazing, right?”

  Russel nodded. His mouth was watering. He took a bite and shut his eyes, savouring the starburst of flavours in his mouth. “Wow!” His eyes popped open. “Why has it taken you this long to bring me here?”

  “Bring you back here, you mean?” Mac winked at him.

  Russel rolled his eyes. “This is amazing.” He pushed another mouthful onto his fork. “Like an orgasm in my mouth.”

  Mac wiggled his eyebrows. “Later.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “I told you I was going to take you home and ravage you, didn’t I?”

  “And feast on my meat.” Russel’s chin quivered with anticipation. “I can’t wait.”

  “But… uh… there’s something else I wanted to do first.” Mac’s words were hesitant, and a cute pink blush had crept over his nose and cheeks.

  Russel pursed his lips, waiting.

  Mac turned in his seat and motioned to Giulia. Her eyes widened with excitement, and she practically danced her way to the CD player, where she changed the track to something soaring and romantic. She stood watching them, her hands clasped at her jaw as though they were the most adorable couple in the world.

  “What’s going on?” Russel asked.

  He gasped as Mac stood, got down on one knee, and fished a small black box out of his chinos.

  “Mac?” Russel’s voice had risen to a high pitch, and he could feel his cheeks glowing as everyone in the small restaurant paused their chatter and meals to stare at him and Mac.

  Mac stared him in the eyes. “I’ll never forget the day you walked into my life. You turned it upside down and left me reeling for all the right reasons.”

  Russel raked his teeth over his lower lip and looked down at the floor.

  “Look at me,” Mac said softly.

  Russel obeyed, his heart pattering like a rainstorm.

  “I never thought I could feel this way about anyone. But now that I’ve found you, I never want to let you go. Will you marry me?” He opened the box, revealing a gorgeous wide band that looked as though it was made from liquid silver. It was the most stunning thing Russel had ever seen, except Mac, obviously.

  It felt like everyone was holding the same breath, including Mac.

  Russel wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. “I hate to tell you this, but we’re not allowed to get married.”

  “We will be able to one day,” Mac said, conviction ringing in his voice. “And when that day comes, I want to be first in line at the registry office. With you. Marry me?”

  A torrent of emotion bubbled out of him in a single excited word. “Yes!”

  Grinning, Mac slid the ring onto Russel’s finger. It was a perfect fit, which was enough to bring tears of joy to Russel’s eyes. He stood, practically knocking his chair and the table over, and pulled Mac to his feet. As they kissed, the restaurant exploded in applause, whoops, and whistles. Giulia started singing again, her Italian drone completely lost on Russel.

  He quickly became breathless as he pressed kiss after kiss to Mac’s lips, only half caring that they were in public.

  “I had no idea you were going to ask that!”

  Mac chuckled. “I got tired of waiting for you to pop the question.”

  “I just… I didn’t think…” Russel pressed himself against Mac’s chest. “I guess I didn’t believe you’d say yes.”

  “Then you’re an idiot.”

  “Yeah.” Russel sighed happily. “I guess I am.” He pulled Mac’s head down so he could whisper to the big guy. “Let’s leave a fat tip and go home. You promised me a good ravishing.”

  “What about the food?”

  “As gorgeous as it is, the only thing I’m hungry for right now is you.”

  Mac’s chest rumbled against Russel as he laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

  *

  They were all over each other the moment they were through the door. It occurred to Russel that he could order Mac into a submissive position whenever he wanted to, but the thrill he felt as he was shoved up against the wall kept the words locked inside. He gasped as Mac pressed hard, hungry kisses against his throat. Russel shivered when Mac’s desperate hands yanked his linen shirt off. Within seconds, Mac had relieved Russel of the rest of his clothes and was lavishing him with long, lingering licks and brief, fierce kisses.

  Mac grabbed Russel’s wrists and pinned them against the wall. “This caveman enough for you?”

  “Oh, yes.” Russel whimpered as Mac’s body pressed against his, hard and demanding.

  “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather have me on my knees?”

  Russel stopped breathi
ng. “Is that what you want?”

  “Not tonight. But tell me to, and I’ll obey.”

  Russel smiled as he started to breathe again. There it was, the submissive man he adored. But this more forceful version of Mac was equally appealing. “Not tonight. I’m looking forward to being claimed by my caveman.”

  “Thank fuck for that.”

  Then Mac was kissing him again, his teeth biting into the soft skin at Russel’s neck, marking him before licking and kissing the temporary hurt away. Mac released one of Russel’s wrists and made short work of undoing the button and zipper of his chinos. He pushed the chinos and his boxer pants down around his hips, releasing his hard cock. Russel glanced down and drew in a shuddering breath at the sight of Mac’s dick. He’d dreamt of having it shoved inside him, but had mostly kept those fantasies to himself. He knew Mac preferred to bottom. That he had an aversion to topping. So knowing that Mac wanted to fuck him made him feel like the most important man in Mac’s world.

  A sharp breath whooshed out of him as Mac lifted him, slamming his back against the wall.

  “I’m going to fuck you right here,” Mac told him, grinding the words out through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, please,” Russel whimpered.

  Mac stroked the head of Russel’s cock, using the milky pre-cum to make his fingers slick before sliding one slowly into Russel’s arse. Russel groaned and knocked his head against the wall. He was glad that Mac’s strong arms were holding him up because he felt like his limbs were turning to jelly. It had been a long time since anyone had played with his arse, including himself.

  “God, I love you,” Mac said.

  There were more kisses, more nips, each one punctuating a strong thrust of Mac’s finger.

  “More,” Russel whispered. “Please, Mac, I need more.”

  Mac obliged by inserting a second finger. He thrust, twisted, and scissored his fingers inside Russel.

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this,” Russel said through a soft, needy laugh.

  “No.” Mac bit Russel’s earlobe. “But it’s the first time I’ve truly enjoyed it.”

  “I hope you enjoy fucking me more.”

 

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