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  “It’s all good. I handled it.”

  “Speaking of which, that would not be your job. You’ve got to let Tucker take care of stuff like that.”

  Unfortunately, Christian was right. He was supposed to be a senator, not a trained security operative. “Christ, I’m sorry. I blew it, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. I get that you’ve got hard-wired reflexes to a situation like that.”

  “You would not be wrong. I don’t know if I can break my habits. I’ve spent a long time carving them into my brain.”

  Christian was silent. He looked as if he was still absorbing the relief of the attack having been nothing dangerous. Still. It had obviously been a hell of a scare for him.

  To distract him, Stone asked, “Does Jack even speak Spanish? And then that kid. And his mother. Poor woman was convinced we were gonna kill him. Not that I blame her—”

  “Stone.”

  “—And the cops. I wasn’t sure they’d listen to me and not tase him—”

  “Stone.” Christian spoke a little more forcefully this time.

  Jeez. He was babbling.

  He never babbled.

  “You did fine,” Christian said gently. “Better than fine.”

  “I panicked when that reporter threw that question at me. And then I figured, what the hell. Go for it. I figured the crowd would like it.”

  Christian smiled a little. “They loved it. And to answer your question, Jack speaks enough Spanish to proposition a whore, but that’s about it.”

  “Crap. I’m sorry. I had to make a call on the fly….”

  “Your call probably just got Jack an extra several million in campaign contributions. I’ve been telling him forever to support bilingual education, and he’s refused to listen to me. You’ve put him on the right side of the polls on the issue whether he wants to be there or not. And besides, now I can force him to learn some more Spanish, or at least to pretend to know more.”

  “Hah! That’s what he gets for taking off with Señorita Chesty.”

  Christian grinned.

  “You know, we could rewrite a bunch of his positions while he’s gone,” Stone suggested.

  A snort of humor escaped Christian. “You have no idea how tempting that is.”

  “Then do it. He left you holding the bag. He can’t very well complain about what you do with the bag.”

  “If he flip-flops on too much, he’ll lose his voter base.”

  “I dunno. You have to admit it’s an appealing idea.”

  “Don’t encourage me,” Christian laughed.

  Their gazes met, and there it was, that intense sexual attraction that hung between them any time they let down their guards for even a second. They both looked away hastily, and Stone stared out the window at nothing.

  Every time they connected emotionally for even a second, it proved yet again that their smoking-hot chemistry wasn’t only in his imagination. That the sex between them was as hot and intoxicating as he remembered it. More so.

  Not to mention the more they got to know each other, the more they knew how to evoke each other’s emotional and erogenous hot buttons.

  Take Christian, for example. On the outside, he was all about control. But Stone was secretly convinced that he wanted more than anything to give up control. He was certainly willing to do so in bed, given the opportunity. How to get him to relax a little about the rest of his life, though?

  He leaned forward. “Hey, Tucker, how long till the hotel?”

  “In this traffic, at least an hour. Sorry.”

  Perfect. “No problem. Take your time and be safe.”

  “You got it.”

  Stone sat back and ran up the privacy panel between the front and back seats. “Is this thing soundproof?” he asked casually.

  “More or less. Tucker could hear if someone screamed.”

  Christian was frowning slightly, not seeing where this was going. Excellent. It was high time the man was ambushed and surprised out of all that self-discipline.

  He reached for Christian’s fly and unzipped it all the way in one smooth, quick move.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  He didn’t bother answering. Rather, he leaned over and freed Christian’s cock from his briefs.

  “What the—” Christian squawked.

  But when Stone leaned down and closed his mouth around the abrupt spring of a fast hard-on, Christian broke off on a gasp. His hips surged up against Stone’s face.

  Yeah. As he’d thought. All that control was a thin veneer at best.

  He circled the bold head of Christian’s cock with his tongue and then stroked the length of it, drawing his tongue along the underside and back up in a delicious slurp. Sucking gently, he drew it into his mouth while he dipped his hand lower, cupped Christian’s balls, and pressed his fingertips into the sensitive spot behind them. A tug with his hand in time with the sucking action of his mouth, and Christian’s anus, balls, and dick all clenched in unison.

  “Jesus, Stone. Not here.”

  He lifted his mouth away long enough to mutter, “Wrong answer. Sing for me, Christian.”

  “Huh?”

  He closed his mouth around Christian’s now rock-hard, heavy cock. The man was impressively endowed. Stone took enough of it into his mouth that the head bumped against the back of his throat. Forcing his throat muscles to relax, he sucked his way up the shaft and then rammed his mouth back down on it, hard and deep.

  Christian’s hips bucked again, and his breath hissed in and out.

  That was more like it. Stone grasped the base of Christian’s cock with his left hand while he continued squeezing and tugging rhythmically at Christian’s balls with his right hand. And then he set up a merciless rhythm with his mouth, up and down, slow then fast. Shallow and ever deeper with each downstroke. And each time he retreated, he swirled his tongue around the straining head of Christian’s penis.

  Christian started making strangled sounds of pleasure that were so tortured and sexy they nearly drove him to come in his own pants. The moans became a steady stream of cursing from behind Christian’s clenched teeth.

  He kept up the sliding movement of his lips and swirling tongue, steadily, inexorably, stripping away the layers of Christian’s self-control. It was intoxicating, exposing his lover like this.

  Christian plunged his hand into the short hair at the back of Stone’s head and tried to pull his head faster and harder against his lap, but Stone resisted.

  Oh no. They were doing this on his terms, and Christian was going to lose his mind before this was over.

  “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Christian chanted in a breathy whisper.

  His dick strained against Stone’s throat, rising eagerly to meet each down thrust of his mouth.

  Christian’s breath became ragged and then devolved into hoarse pants.

  Soon now. Smiling around the base of Christian’s dick, Stone squeezed everything a little tighter, sucked a little harder, drove a little deeper down his throat.

  Christian was large enough that a true deep throat wasn’t feasible, but with a combination of fist and mouth, he was able to envelop the guy’s cock in a tight, wet, hot glove of relentlessly pumping stimulation.

  He felt Christian’s balls tighten in his hand. Beneath him, Christian’s entire body tensed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Christian yank up his tie, shove a length of it between his teeth, and bite down on it as his entire body exploded. He surged up off the bench seat into Stone’s face, his cock pulsing and pulsing as he emptied himself in a massive ejaculation.

  Christian collapsed, limp against the seat, a drop of perspiration rolling down his temple and tracing the line of his square jaw. “What the… hell was… that for?”

  “That was about you giving up control.”

  Christian’s right eyebrow arched skeptically. “Looks to me like you’re riding a hell of an adrenaline rush after that kid jumped you. Or did you like hearing that crowd cheer for you a little mor
e than you’re letting on? Are you sure you’re not the one who needs to let go of the reins a little after the head rush of power?”

  Stone stared at him. Damned if the man wasn’t spot-on. It was getting a little freaky how Christian seemed to know him better than he knew himself sometimes. He mumbled, “What do you suggest?”

  “What do you need?”

  Such a simple question. And yet packed with so much significance. Recognition that he was wired tighter than a spring. Willingness to help. An offer of his body to fulfill Stone’s needs.

  Lord, the generosity of it. Did he dare accept the gift? His knees went weak at the prospect. And yet….

  Fear trembled low in his belly. He was starting to need this man a hell of a lot more than he wanted to need anyone. He was a lone wolf, dammit. But a lone wolf who wanted Christian, body and soul.

  Christian rolled off the seat to the carpeted open space in front of the single bench seat and onto his knees. He pulled his trousers down and planted his elbows on the bench seat. Looking over his shoulder, he said soberly, “You know you want to. And I know you need to. Take me. Do what you want to me. I trust you.”

  Christian trusted him?

  A wave of warmth rolled through him, so emotional he wasn’t sure he could handle it. This man. It was shocking how perfect he was.

  Christian’s rear end stuck out impudently. The man really did have great glutes. They were round and firm, with white, smooth skin sandwiched between dark tan lines on his hips and thighs. Reluctantly, Stone trailed his fingertips down the deep indentation of Christian’s spine from his waist to the crack between those muscular cheeks.

  Christian shuddered a little, and Stone’s entire body clenched with desire.

  This way lay madness. But damned if he could do a thing to stop himself from racing down the road to hell. It was Christian. Handsome, classy, brilliant Christian. Strong, graceful, elegant Christian. Kind, generous, caring Christian.

  He unzipped his own fly, then leaned forward and spread Christian’s cheeks wide with both hands. He ran his tongue around the puckered rose there, amused at how Christian’s muscles clenched and released convulsively.

  Apparently we are, in fact, going to do this. His erection practically doubled in mass, density, and hardness in the length of time it took him to have the thought.

  Capitulation complete and damnation assured, he surged up, covering Christian’s body with his. He reached around Christian’s hips and was not surprised to find his cock already hardening again. The guy was in great shape—and he needed the stress relief nearly as badly as Stone did.

  He took Christian’s cock in his grip and stroked it into a brand-new throbbing mass of hungry lust. Christian’s hips rocked faster and faster against his fist as he pumped him toward another huge orgasm.

  When Christian was moaning incoherently, Stone positioned his cock at Christian’s opening and murmured, “Last chance to say no. Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes. Oh God. Yes,” he groaned.

  After taking a moment to tear open a lubricated condom packet and roll it over his throbbing cock, Stone pushed forward triumphantly. He felt like a fucking conquering Roman general. Barely hanging on to his control, he paused, the tip of his cock lodged in Christian’s tight heat. He nearly came right there.

  He felt a fractional relaxation of the muscles gripping him and pressed forward. Christian gasped, and Stone froze.

  “Keep going,” Christian ground out.

  Stone pressed forward carefully. It took maybe ten seconds total to seat himself all the way to the hilt. But it was the most incredible eternity of his life. This self-disciplined, high-powered, blue-blooded intellectual had just given all of himself to him. The triumph was so heady it almost made him faint.

  It was, in a word, glorious.

  Christian took all of him, grasping every inch of him so tightly with his internal muscles that it was his turn to bite back a groan. He withdrew fractionally and then pressed forward carefully again.

  Ever so slowly, he worked Christian’s body, coaxing the muscles to relax enough for him to move safely. Gradually, gradually, Christian’s tension eased. His body relaxed beneath Stone’s.

  He checked in quickly. “You okay?”

  “Uh-huh,” Christian panted. The sound was laced with a big fat helping of lust. Exactly how Stone liked his lovers. He grasped Christian’s cock and stroked it in time with his pumps in and out of his body. It was, bar none, the sexiest feeling he’d ever experienced.

  Cars whizzed by on the freeway, oblivious to the epic sex going on behind the blacked-out windows of the SUV. It was erotic and forbidden, and he took Christian in front of them all.

  He pumped faster and faster, and Christian’s hips rocked back and forth in a matching frenzy that drove him out of his mind. Who was the one being taken here? He was methodically being torn out of his body, his whole being focusing on where their bodies joined, his emotional defenses shredded.

  Christian began chanting again, whimpering more and more urgently that he felt a second orgasm coming. Every syllable devastated Stone. He’d never felt anything like this—not physically, not mentally, and definitely not emotionally.

  His own orgasm began to build, and everything disappeared except the pounding lust, the irresistible pull of Christian’s body, the need to mark this man as his and only his, and…. Oh… my… God….

  The explosion, when it came, all but tore him apart. His entire being emptied itself in a massive eruption of hot, convulsing pleasure. This time Christian shouted into the crook of his elbow and shuddered uncontrollably around Stone as their bodies continued pulsing in aftershocks.

  Carefully, Stone pulled out of Christian, relieved to see no blood. He genuinely didn’t want to cause him any pain. Only pleasure. Loads of mind-blowing pleasure. After disposing of the condom, he turned, half fell onto the seat, and weakly started putting his clothes to rights.

  He was both amused and gratified that Christian didn’t move right away. He had to absorb what had happened for a minute, huh? Good.

  Slowly, a little gingerly, Christian pulled up his pants and sat down beside him. Eventually he zipped his fly and fussed with his tie where he’d bit down on it before, trying to smooth the teeth marks out of the silk.

  Stone said quietly, “Thank you for giving me that. It was… spectacular.”

  Christian responded, his voice resolute, “And it can’t ever happen again.”

  Chapter Nine

  STILL IN a state of minor shock, Christian stepped into the suite behind Stone, who insisted on playing bodyguard for him from the elevator down the hall to the hotel room. Old habits die hard, apparently.

  Although, hell’s bells, his careful habit of keeping his private life far, far away from his professional life had kicked the bucket spectacularly tonight. He needed a long, hot shower. He was sore and messy, but damned if he wasn’t so exhilarated he could hardly see straight.

  Which was exactly why they could never do that again. For the first time in his life, he was tempted, genuinely tempted, to walk away from the career—from the identity—he’d constructed so carefully over so many years. He was ready to throw in the towel and give it all up for Stone if the man would have him.

  Which, of course, would never happen. Stone was so busy staying in perpetual motion, running from whatever demons dogged his heels, that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, slow down long enough to have a real relationship, let alone a permanent one.

  Christian might be a fool for love, as it turned out, but he was no dummy when it came to reading people. And he was not wrong in his assessment of Stone Jackson.

  The message light on the phone was blinking, and Christian rushed over to it, hoping against hope it was Jack calling to tell them he’d be back shortly. Or at least to check in and let them know he was alive. The bastard.

  “Good evening, Mr. Chatsworth-Brandeis. This is the Miami Morning Crowd calling. We were wondering if there’s time in your senato
r’s schedule for a live, on-camera interview tomorrow morning.”

  He advanced the machine to the next message.

  “This is the Miami Enquirer. We’d like a quote from the senator on this evening’s incident. He’s being touted as a hero for protecting his attacker.”

  And the next.

  “This is the Tampa Examiner. Does Senator Lacey have a comment on the attack against him earlier?”

  The next half-dozen messages were more of the same. Nothing from Jack, though.

  Damn him, anyway. Part of him hoped the bastard never came back. That the whole train went off a cliff, and he would be forced to completely reinvent his life. With or without Stone in it.

  He watched through the open bedroom door as Stone stripped off the senator’s suit, article by article of clothing. The jerk was doing that on purpose to tantalize him. And it was working.

  He picked up the TV remote and pointed it at the television without taking his gaze off Stone, who was kicking off Jack’s boots and peeling out of the pants at the moment. Damn, that man was built like a rock. He wasn’t thick, but he was hard. Everywhere. His name fit him to a T.

  “—visiting senator and possible presidential hopeful defends himself against an attack and then protects his assailant from police in this dramatic footage from tonight’s Latin American Chamber of Commerce event….”

  Oh, shit. He’d really, really hoped the media wouldn’t pick up on the incident, but he knew better. A senator protecting his assailant from the police was sound-bite gold.

  “Hey! That’s me on the news,” Stone exclaimed from the doorway. “Cool!”

  Christian actually felt the blood draining from his face as he prayed that the footage would be of poor quality and not show Stone’s face too clearly. “People who know Jack are going to see this.”

  His prayer wasn’t answered. As clear as day, Stone took down that kid and then protected him from the police.

  Stone murmured, “Dude, you don’t look so good. Maybe you should sit down.”

  Christian made his way over to the sofa. Numb, he switched channels. Of course, all the local news outlets had picked up the story. He said weakly, “Please, God, let the national outlets not have picked it up.”