“Sure. I’d kill for a coffee.”
Vadim glanced at Henri at those words, his lips curled slightly in derision. “I guess a man has to know what he’d kill for,” he said in Russian.
“What?”
Nikolai waved that off. “My father is a retired Afghanistan vet. He doesn’t joke about killing because he’s done so much of it.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Krasnorada, that was insensitive of me,” Henri said immediately, looking just contrite enough to pull it off without seeming like a buffoon.
Vadim nodded toward the bar. “I’ll be over there.” He marched off, and Nikolai headed toward one of the booths, Henri walking next to him. They settled, and neither of them made a move toward the drink menu. When that young attractive guy showed up at their table, Henri ordered “the biggest, strongest coffee you have,” and Nikolai went with just water.
“I guess you’re not here on business.”
“No.” Henri leaned forward, stared at the table, then at Nikolai. “I’m not some crazy stalker. I have a reason to be here.”
“I bet that’s what every crazy stalker tells himself.” That had come out harsher than he’d intended, and it gave Henri pause.
“I’m sorry to hassle you on holiday with your family. Really, I am. I understood the message, but I had an idea, and I needed to make sure you’d listen to me.”
“That doesn’t sound any less crazy.”
Henri lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Yes. Sorry, I’m tired and not at my most subtle. But I’m here to help you.”
“What? Why would you do that?”
Henri pulled a folded envelope from his suit jacket and straightened it out on the table, then kept his hand splayed on it. “Here’s some information on a company that would act as a white knight to Cybele. I’ve talked to people I know in the industry. You might want to look into Aureus in Joburg. Darling of Western pension funds, more money than they know how to spend, and eager to diversify outside of Africa. I did an internship at the management level with them. They are smaller than us, but it’s a solid business on all counts, and their corporate governance and transparency is good, which isn’t a given in Africa. It’s the kind of company I’d love to work for.”
Shit, that might just be the solution. It wasn’t in Henri’s interest at all, or at least not in his uncle’s. So maybe this was the real reason for showing up unbidden—to made amends. Distance himself from his uncle.
But for what? Because it was the decent thing to do or because he still wanted more than Nikolai was ready to give?
“That does sound good. Ruslan is keen on corporate governance.”
“Thank God, the man sees reason.” Henri exhaled with clear relief, tilting his head back to focus his gaze again on Nikolai. “If you’re going to build a big company, it all has to be clean and straight and accountable. You don’t want to end up in a place that’s run by criminals.” He pushed the envelope over. “Talk to their CFO; I was just touching base with him while waiting for my flight in Auckland. I told him somebody might contact him. His cell phone and email is in there. Maybe fly over to Joburg and have a chat with him. He’d be keen to see your numbers, too.” Henri pulled back and deflated. Those twenty hours on the plane made him look extremely tired and worn, and Nikolai could tell he hadn’t even shaved. Possibly only changed into a fresh shirt in the plane restroom.
“And you’ve come all the way for this?”
“Well, if I’m betraying my own side, I’d better do it face to face, right? Like they do in the spy movies.”
“I’d cast you for the Goldfinger remake any day.” Nikolai paused while the waiter brought the coffee and water and then vanished back behind the bar to linger adoringly where Vadim sat, at the far end, back to the wall, seemingly playing with his smartphone—or really plotting who to kill first in this room with nothing more than a cocktail umbrella. He chuckled at the thought.
“Your father’s impressive.”
“He’s a scary motherfucker, but we get along well.” Nikolai unscrewed his bottle and poured water over the ice in his glass, making it crack audibly. He took a sip and looked at the envelope. “Why are you doing this?”
“For you, Nikolai. Just for you. I couldn’t care less about Cybele, but I know you care about that company. So I care. Kind of. I want you to . . . I don’t know. Maybe respect me a little.”
Ouch. That actually caused a twinge somewhere in Nikolai’s chest. “It’s okay. You’re a good guy working for an asshole.”
Henri almost spit his coffee out, then glared at him and wiped his mouth. “Not fair.”
“I call ‘em as I see ‘em.”
“Compared to some other stuff going on in the business world, this isn’t the worst screw-over I’ve seen. It’s all still perfectly legal and out on the table. Things can get significantly nastier.”
“You’re not selling me that life very well.”
“Oh no, I’m not and I wouldn’t.” Henri pursed his lips. “But you asked why. Because I like you too damn much to just move on. You’re something special, and I’d hate to lose you that easily.”
“Henri, we work well in bed, and that’s it. Don’t mistake good sex for . . . something more.”
“I don’t,” Henri said categorically. “I know the difference.” And he looked so open and maybe a little hopeful that it cramped Nikolai’s heart. “Normally I don’t play back what I did with a man. Or what we said. I don’t linger on what somebody looks like eating or laughing, or when he can’t wait to get out of his tailored suit to be more casual. Or how you looked when you got me off. That . . . was pretty damn special to me.”
Nikolai swallowed. Shit, the chemistry was back, full force. “It won’t work. It can’t work. Fucking our brains out is not going to solve anything.”
Henri took another sip from his coffee. “No, but it’s a damn good start. If you’re willing to take that risk, then I am, too.”
“Risk? There’s no risk involved.”
“Not even to your heterosexual identity?”
“Henri, I was brought up by gay men. I don’t have a heterosexual identity. No, that sounds wrong. All the men who were important to me growing up were gay.”
“Then why are you so scared to move beyond the sex?”
“I’m not scared.” Nikolai laughed. “Don’t give me an earful of Psychology 101. I’m not afraid of commitments or settling down. It just never works out because I’m working all over the globe and I’m not made for routines and nine-to-fives and picking up the kids from kindergarten. It doesn’t work.”
“No danger of kids here,” Henri said dryly and finished his coffee. “Fine. Maybe you still have some growing up to do. Your age, I couldn’t commit either.”
“Fuck you, Henri.”
Henri lifted a finger. “That’s kind of the right thought, just in the wrong context. I’d love to suck you off before I fall into an exhaustion-induced coma. Because right now? I’m hard for you, Nikolai. I’d do anything you’d ask me. Scream your name when you fuck me. Hell, maybe this time, we might even kiss.” All delivered in a quiet, mildly ironic voice. Teasing.
“Shit,” Nikolai muttered, his body responding to the invitation. Just fifteen minutes ago, he’d never wanted to see Henri again, had never expected to see him again, had firmly intended to leave the whole episode behind him and move on, regardless of the chemistry and the banter, but here Henri sat, seemingly in control of his arousal and that electric current in the room. He switched Nikolai on and off at will with his flirting, his suggestions, and that honesty Nikolai would never have expected from a corporate player. “What’s your room number?”
“One hundred thirteen.” Henri pulled out his wallet and produced a key card. “Here’s your card. I’ll grab a shower, lube up, and you can fuck me right there on the bed if you want. No preparation necessary. You could be just a burglar taking advantage of me.”
Holy shit, those dirty fantasies. Nikolai’s pulse beat up into his
throat. “That doesn’t change a thing.”
“I think it does. You’re no good at no-strings-attached sex. Even so, I’m in the same hotel, I’ll fly back tomorrow, but I fully intend to have you again tonight. Whatever you make of that. My offer’s on the table.”
“Right.” Nikolai took the card and pushed it into his pocket. “I might see you later.”
“I think you will. And you’re more than welcome.” Henri smiled at him.
Oh hell. He stood, noticed Henri’s gaze rake down from his face to his groin. The jeans were way too tight, and he figured everybody in the bar had to see how hard he was. He headed back to Vadim. “All done. Let’s go?” Please.
Vadim nodded mutely, paid for his drink, and followed him to the suite. Nikolai’s mind was racing, mixing the business stuff with the sex stuff, keyed up and on edge. He needed to call Ruslan, but right now, his mind wasn’t clear.
“What do you think of Henri?”
“He’s smooth.”
“That he is. Good God.” Nikolai shuddered. “He invited me to his room. I . . . don’t think I should. I’m trying to not do this.”
“Why not?”
Nikolai shook his head. “I don’t even know.”
Vadim put a hand on Nikolai’s shoulder and leaned closer. “Trust this old battle horse when I say: enjoy life. It can be over faster than you think. And you never know what kind of memory will keep you going when you need it.”
Nikolai tensed. “But what if . . .”
“Life’s never clean. Or abstract.” Vadim’s hand moved to his jaw and Nikolai turned to look him in the eye. “You were right. You came out well, Nikolai. Trust yourself. You’re a good man, and you’ll make good decisions. And if you don’t . . . life can be generous and give you a second chance. Or a third one.”
“You pushing me into this?”
“It’s more a nudge. Try it. Take a risk. It might end well.”
“Strictly speaking, Henri’s playing for the enemy.”
“Well. I acquired myself an enemy, too, and look where that got me.”
And an enemy who fought with guns and knives rather than contracts and corporate shenanigans. Compared to Vadim’s epic love story with a Scottish Special Forces soldier in Afghanistan, just about anything that didn’t involve invasions, genocide, and incarceration had to be boring. But that was normal existence, undramatic and without life-or-death decisions.
“Trust yourself, Nikolai. I already do.”
“Shit.” Nikolai fought tears that welled up again. “You know what? I wish you’d been there to teach me all that earlier. This feels damn good.” He touched his chest, where his heart was pounding. “I think I needed to hear that.”
Vadim smiled at him. Not a measured, wary, sharp smile, but an all-out bright, beaming one. It came with an odd cuddle and a ruffling of his hair. As if Nikolai were suddenly six years old, and his father had never left. “Go. Enjoy being young and strong.” He slapped him between the shoulder blades and headed down the corridor, breaking the intimacy before it could become uneasy and spoil.
Nikolai was still stunned how much those few words had meant to him. He’d never thought he’d needed that expression of confidence, or this blank check of affection. This meant so much to him coming from Vadim, the most emotionally reserved man he knew, yet also the one in the family who could admit and show emotion and weakness—though doing so was a battle to him, making that gift all the more precious.
Nikolai turned to head to Henri’s room, anticipation mixing into the weirdly emotional moment. Henri might be a mistake, but it did feel good to be with him. He liked the guy. And, yeah, there was definitely lust and desire. It wasn’t much, maybe; compared to a woman, the courting phase had been short, though he’d shacked up with a few of his girlfriends after a semi-drunk encounter in a bar. Fresh off the rig, he hadn’t been the choosiest man alive. Truth be told, with some of them he’d talked even less than with Henri that first night.
He let himself into Henri’s room, which was lit by a single lamp. He closed the door carefully.
A burglar taking advantage of me.
His arousal went up a notch. He moved into the room, where Henri lay sprawled on the bed, on his belly, hands under the pillow, head tilted away from the door, duvet covering only half of his ass—that was definitely staged. A condom packet lay to the side, next to a lube bottle, and the light was mostly on so Nikolai could orientate himself.
Nikolai kicked off his shoes. He wanted nothing more than to be inside Henri. If that was absurd, so be it. He had meant for Henri to never approach him again, had actually believed he’d meant it when he’d told Henri to move on and find somebody better, but right now he was glad Henri hadn’t done as asked. If it led to kinky sex, he was up for it. Hell, very much up for it.
Henri could have been sleeping; he looked relaxed on the bed, but the way it was all so carefully arranged indicated he wasn’t, or hadn’t been for long. Nikolai pulled the duvet down a bit, baring Henri’s ass completely. His legs were splayed, but not enough to see his hole. Nikolai ran a hand down his own crotch, traced the outline of his rapidly hardening dick. Then opened the top button and the small ones, pushed his boxers out of the way. He took the condom packet, ripped it open, rolled the latex down over his dick, then lubed it up. No need to hurt Henri. He crawled onto the bed, wondering how Henri would react as he covered his body with his own, grabbing his arms. “Surprise,” he breathed into Henri’s ear.
A soft chuckle was the response. “Not really, but I’ll play along.”
Nikolai grinned. “Burglar, eh?”
“I was considering getting you leather gloves and a balaclava, but on such short order that would have been difficult. I’d . . . damn, I have that fantasy, and you’re big enough so I could fight back and still lose. Also, if you hate me a little, you could fuck me so hard it hurts.”
“Kinky.”
“Yeah.” Henri opened his legs wider. “Tie me up and fuck me hard and come on my face.”
“You know what they say about stressed-out managers compensating with submission games?”
“In my case, that’s all true.” Henri groaned. “Shit, are you as hard as I am?”
“Harder.”
Henri chuckled. “Of course. Though it’s no competition.”
Nikolai slid his thighs in between Henri’s legs. “Lift up. Show me that ass.”
Henri groaned and obeyed, presenting his ass to Nikolai’s cock, and Nikolai reached down to position himself against his hole. A quick check with two fingers proved he was lubed up, so Nikolai pressed in immediately, gasping at the sensation. Damn, this felt so good. It seriously felt so good, holding Henri down, their hands now entwined, Henri’s upper body motionless but their hips grinding together as Nikolai slowly worked his way into Henri’s ass.
“God, yeah,” Henri muttered, voice strained. “You’re getting good at this.”
Nikolai chuckled and thrust harder, just as Henri relaxed around him, letting him in all the way. Completely and fully inside, he felt everything, every breath and every beat of Henri’s pulse, every slide and push of his muscles, every small hitched sound of pleasure. “Maybe I’ll play burglar next time. Or maybe just close your eyes and feel me.”
He was still mostly dressed, socks and jeans and T-shirt, which focused his attention even more on his dick. Henri, by contrast, was bare-assed naked and sprawled underneath him, on his knees, spine curved, chest and face to the mattress.
No mirror to watch them together, but Henri’s whole position said “fuck me,” and that was what he’d do. He rolled his hips and thrust, small movements, and Henri was shaking, squirming underneath him, pushing back until they found a sweet, natural rhythm that only made the pleasure grow.
That weird tenderness, that sense of being one, moving in harmony, a bit like a fight but with no ire, just physical and intimate and trusting, generous, every jolt of pleasure shared between them. No different from sleeping with a woman, not really
, not emotionally. Nikolai gritted his teeth as he moved back, secured the condom, and pulled out.
“What the—”
“Turn. Legs up. Just turn.” Nikolai struggled out of his T-shirt, very nearly ripping the sweat-damp cloth. The jeans were worse, tight and sweaty, but then Henri turned around and helped him pull them down. It was awkward, so Henri pushed him over with one hand and pulled the jeans off him, his hard cock bobbing with the movement, and Nikolai took a moment to squeeze his balls. Just taking Henri in, his chest, abs, cut dick that was leaking pre-cum, his body manscaped to perfection. Barely a hair left on him apart from a patch around his dick. The nipples small and hard, and though Nikolai loved breasts, a good set of pecs was a fair substitute.
Henri pulled Nikolai’s jeans off, and his socks, then placed two weird, chaste kisses on the backs of his feet.
“Don’t tell me you’re a foot fetishist, too.”
Henri chuckled and glanced up. “Not a fetishist, but don’t tell me you’ve never had somebody suck your toes.”
“I used to work on an oil rig. There’s very little toe-sucking going on there.” Never mind that the state of his feet hadn’t inspired confidence once he’d pulled them out of steel-toed work boots. “I think . . . give it a go when I’m showered, maybe?”
Henri grinned up at him, and Nikolai got the sense the bastard enjoyed flustering him. Well, he was really the master at this gay sex thing. Nikolai had no clue, though learning Henri’s turn-ons would be fun. Had been fun so far. Henri had a wicked imagination, and that alone was a big draw. And that grin . . .
“Okay, change of plan. I’ll make you work for it.” Nikolai pulled Henri up by his shoulders, scooted up to the headboard himself. “Come on.”
Henri straddled him, took Nikolai’s dick in hand and positioned it, then slid down on it. Damn. That expression on his face, the rapture, lips open, eyes closed, and Nikolai reached up to touch Henri’s chest, twisted his nipple, and Henri responded with a shudder, one hand trailing down to his dick. Nikolai caught his wrist, all the while bucking into Henri’s body, thrusting deeper and deeper, until all of his attention was focused on getting as deep as possible into the tight, moving, increasingly frantic heat.