Aria (9 page)

O
PENING night of the opera, and Sam’s departure was approaching far too fast. Aiden couldn’t remember being happier, what with spending his free time with Sam and doing what he loved. The fact that David Somers was conducting made it all that much more enjoyable, and he enjoyed dinners with Jules and Jason twice as much with Sam at his side.

David’s partner, Alex Bishop, flew in for a few days between performances of his own. The four of them had dinner at a three-star restaurant on the aptly named rue Beethoven, in the sixteenth arondissement. Afterward, Sam and Aiden spent the entire night making love, and they slept in late the next morning, bodies intertwined.

The performance was a resounding success, and Aiden headed from his dressing room to the opening night party to meet David, Alex, Jules, Jason, and Sam. Showered and dressed and once more in his tux, he strode into the main entrance of the theater. The high-ceilinged atrium had been transformed to accommodate partygoers with a lavish buffet, a fully stocked bar, and large floral arrangements. The opera’s board of directors had invited the lively mixture of opera patrons, cast, and orchestra members more as a fundraiser than as a purely social gathering.

This too was part of Aiden’s job—to mingle with the crowd and thank them for their continued support, knowing that the health of the opera house and his future engagements depended upon their continued donations. He had learned to take full advantage of the adulation and chat comfortably with men and women alike in spite of his lingering insecurities. In the end, though, it was only an act. Beneath the sophisticated veneer, he was nothing like his public image, and he feared that one day he’d be recognized for the pretender he really was.

Alexandria, blessedly, had not come to opening night, although she had called several times over the past two weeks. Aiden had not answered. Alexandria’s husband most likely had told her not to make an appearance, fearing more publicity.

Making his way through the crowd seemed to take ages. After forty minutes of stopping to speak to the guests and smiling in response to their compliments, he spotted Sam standing with Jules, Jason, and David in the far corner of the room.

“Excuse me,” he told the platinum blonde who still clasped his hand in hers. “I need to congratulate Maestro Somers.” He had no real interest in speaking with David—they had discussed the performance after the final curtain as they usually did—but he wanted to talk to Sam. He knew it shouldn’t matter what Sam thought, but he wanted to know Sam had enjoyed the performance. He also wanted this part of the evening to end. Sam would be leaving the next morning for the States, and Aiden wanted them to spend as much time as they could together.

Aiden caught Sam’s attention, and Sam beamed. Was that pride Aiden saw in those clear blue eyes? None of the compliments he had received that evening meant as much as Sam’s smile and the way Aiden felt in that moment.

He’d kept telling himself it was just a rebound thing or maybe some adolescent fantasy—going back to the way things had been in New York, before Cam and all the bullshit. But no matter how he tried to dismiss the thing with Sam, he knew he was fooling himself. It had been more than a fling before, and it was more than a fling now. He genuinely cared for Sam.

I need to ask him if I can see him again.
He’d be traveling to LA in a couple of months. He could spend a few days in Philly before rehearsals started—maybe longer. It’d be easy enough to change his ticket. He made up his mind to ask Sam if he’d like him to visit. What was the worst that could happen, anyhow? The guy would say no and they’d go their separate ways.
He was only about twenty feet from Sam when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shot Sam the hint of a smile, as if to say,
I’ll get there—just a minute longer
. He caught Sam’s understanding nod, then turned around to greet his admirer.
“Cam?”
Aiden’s surprise and confusion must have been easy to read, because Cameron laughed, then embraced Aiden, lingering far too long on each cheek. “I didn’t mean to give you a shock.”
Aiden thought that was
exactly
what Cameron had intended. And the gambit worked. Stunned and caught off guard, Aiden didn’t immediately tell Cam to go to hell.
“What are you doing here, Cam?” Aiden’s throat felt dry, so he snagged a glass of wine from one of the passing waiters and took a long drink.
Cam looked offended. “I came to hear you sing. Why else would I be here?”
Aiden took another swallow of his wine. “You shouldn’t have come. Especially for me.”
“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” Cam leaned forward so that his lips nearly touched Aiden’s ear.
Aiden backed away far less gracefully than he had intended and bumped into one of the waiters. The sound of breaking glass turned heads.
“I’m so sorry.” Aiden was mortified. He had hoped to leave the room quietly, without anyone noticing, but all eyes were now on him and Cam. Including Sam’s. Aiden’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Excuse me, Cam,” he added, heading for the doorway without looking back.

A
IDEN sat in front of the lighted mirror in his dressing room, staring off into space, rubbing his right shoulder. God, had he really reacted like that? He’d had a hard enough time trying to forget about Cam. He clenched his jaw at this thought, and his gaze caught the huge vase filled with roses that Cameron had sent for the performance. There were at least four dozen, all a deep red.

He knew he wouldn’t—he
couldn’t
—go back to Cam, especially since things had been going so well with Sam. But the memory of Cam’s betrayal still hurt like hell. He closed his eyes and blew air between his lips, trying to clear his mind.

The door to the dressing room opened almost silently. If it hadn’t been for the mirror, he might not have even known he was no longer alone.

“I don’t want to talk about this, Cam.” Aiden watched Cameron in the mirror, unwilling to look at him directly.
“I want you back, Aiden.” Cameron looked genuinely distressed, as if he didn’t understand what he could have done to alienate Aiden so completely. “We simply need some time together. Alone. The yacht’s in the Mediterranean. When you finish here, we can spend a few weeks, just the two of us. Maybe stop in Cannes or—”
“You can’t buy everything, Cam.” Aiden kept his voice low, measured. “It’s over.”
“Don’t say that.” Cameron put his arms on Aiden’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “You know how sorry I am for what I did. I really am. I can’t live without you.”
“You don’t know how to live
with
me, Cam.” Aiden stood up abruptly and faced Cameron.
“I won’t ever do it again. I told you he meant nothing to me.”
“You lied to me. You promised you’d never—”
Cameron grabbed Aiden and kissed him, then snaked his arms around Aiden’s waist and pulled him close. For a split second, Aiden allowed himself to be drawn in by the kiss. But then reality reasserted itself and his brain took over from his body.
“No,” Aiden nearly shouted. “I told you, Cam. It’s over. It’s time for you to go now. Go back to your little fuck buddy.”
“But it’s so lonely in that big old house without you. Damn, Aiden, it’s
your
home too!”
“It
was
my home.” Aiden felt tears threaten and fought them off. He’d cried enough over Cameron. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, leaving. But it was all bullshit. All of it.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know
damn
well what I’m saying, Cam. I want you to leave now. And if I ever see you again in public, you’re going to pretend you haven’t even seen me.”
“You can’t mean that. You need me, Aiden. You need what I can give you. You—”
“I’m doing fine on my own. I get hired because I’m
good
. Because I work hard.” Aiden’s heart pounded in his chest and his throat burned.
“Don’t mess with me, Aiden,” Cam hissed. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Get the hell out of my dressing room.” Aiden struggled to maintain his composure, his anger mixing with genuine fear.
“Not until I—”
“Leave, Cameron.”
“Don’t you dare—”
“You heard the man” came a steely voice from the doorway. “He asked you to leave.”
Cameron raised his chin and sneered. “Who the hell are you?”
“The guy who’s going to punch your face in if you
don’t
leave.” Sam’s voice was restrained.
“As if,” Cameron snorted, but he backed away from Sam and moved toward the door as Sam walked into the room. Then, stopping for a moment, he turned toward Aiden and said, “I meant what I said, Aiden. You need me.”
Aiden said nothing but stood his ground and tried to school his face to something hard, immutable. Like granite.
Sam gestured to the door. Cameron stormed out, slamming it as he left.
Aiden drew a long breath. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Sam’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Lord Sherrington, I presume?”
“Quite.” Aiden’s nervous laugh filled the room. “I’d love to say that’s the last I’ll see of him, but I doubt it. He doesn’t give up easily.”
“You okay?”
Aiden nodded. “That wasn’t nearly as difficult as when I found him….” Aiden stopped himself and began again. “Sorry. It’s over. No need to rehash all the gory details.”
“No need to. Jules told me.” Sam’s expression was sympathetic. “He was about to go after the man and tear him limb from limb. Jaz had to hold him back.”
Aiden shook his head. This time the laughter was more genuine. “Sometimes I wonder how I managed to deserve the two of them.”
“Not much to wonder about. You’re a good man, Aiden.”
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Who hasn’t?” Sam slipped his arm around Aiden’s waist. Aiden took a long, slow breath and leaned his head against Sam’s shoulder and lost himself momentarily in the warmth of Sam’s body. Aiden relaxed with the soothing contact.
“Let’s get out of here,” Aiden said finally. “Do you think Jules and Jason will mind if I monopolize your last evening in Paris?”
Sam chuckled and planted a sweet kiss on Aiden’s lips. “I already told them I’d be back in the morning to say my good-byes.”
Sam and Aiden took a cab back to the hotel from the opera house. They barely spoke in the taxi, although the silence was far from uncomfortable. As they walked through the lobby to the elevator, they held hands. The scene in the dressing room had left Aiden feeling a little off-kilter, and the contact was reassuring. Aiden knew it was more than only the encounter with Cam, though, that left him feeling that way.
Sam squeezed Aiden’s hand as the elevator reached their floor. A few minutes later, they were kissing, Sam pressed against the inside of the hotel room door. Aiden unbuttoned Sam’s shirt to find the smooth skin beneath and lick one of Sam’s nipples.
“More.” It was more a gasp than a spoken word, but Aiden didn’t need anything else to understand what Sam wanted. He took the pink flesh between his teeth and nipped at it, then licked it until he heard Sam’s hiss.
“What do you want?” Aiden realized the hidden meaning in the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He didn’t care. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the answer.
“I want to remember this.”
The words both pained and encouraged Aiden. He pushed Sam’s jacket and shirt off, then began to nip at Sam, just enough to mark the pale skin. Sam’s breath was audible, stuttered, as Aiden worked his way down, getting to his knees, not caring if the expensive tux got wrinkled. Who gave a shit about that?
“Aiden.”
Aiden closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart. And, oh God, what was that pain in his chest? It was exquisite, this combination of need and impending loss.
“Come.” He took Sam by the hand and waited a moment until Sam stepped out of his pants and boxers. He didn’t look back as he led Sam to the bedroom. He wanted to prolong the anticipation for both of them.
The look of surprise on Sam’s face as Aiden flipped on the light and caressed Sam’s body with his gaze was perfect. Sam was beautiful like this. Vulnerable. Still slightly awkward in his own nakedness, and yet craving that discomfort almost like an addiction. Aiden had never found anything so enticing as he did Sam’s need to give himself over to Aiden.
Aiden turned Sam around so he could lave the back of Sam’s neck as he tweaked Sam’s pinkish-brown nipples. Sam leaned into Aiden’s embrace, his head on his right shoulder, allowing Aiden access to the sensitive spot under his ear. Aiden knew what Sam wanted, but he withheld the touch, instead squeezing Sam’s nipples harder and rolling them around in his hands.
“Aiden. Please.”
Tell me you want me, Sammy.
Aiden released a nipple and ghosted a line down Sam’s chest with his fingers, stopping above Sam’s cock and biting Sam’s neck hard enough to make him shudder.
“Please.”
Not yet. I’m going to make you remember this.
I’m
going to remember this. I’m going to make you remember
me.
Aiden pinched Sam’s right nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he pressed against Sam’s back so that Sam would feel his hard cock against the small of his back. On any other night, he might have fucked Sam like this, still fully dressed. Tonight, he would feel Sam’s skin against his own skin.
He released Sam’s nipple and pulled Sam’s head back farther, turning it so he could steal a kiss as he finally touched Sam’s cock. Aiden slipped his tongue into the corner of Sam’s mouth—he couldn’t kiss him deeply from his position behind Sam, but that was what Aiden wanted. Sam tried to turn around to meet Aiden’s tongue, but Aiden kept Sam firmly against him.
“I want—”
“I know what you want.” Aiden squeezed Sam’s cock and brushed a thumb over the weeping slit.
“Aiden… please….”
This time Aiden turned Sam, snaked his arms around Sam’s naked body, and pulled him tight before slipping his hands downward to cup Sam’s bare ass. Sam’s hard cock ground against Aiden’s thigh, and Aiden felt his self-control begin to erode. No, it was more than that. He was turned on by Sam’s submissive side, but he suddenly realized he didn’t want to be completely in control tonight.
He wanted to be with Sam. To
really
be with Sam. To hold him close more than just one more night. And with that thought, the memory of New York resurfaced with such force that the pain in his chest spread to his arms and his legs.
Fucking hell. What’s wrong with me?
“Aiden, is there something wrong?” Sam must have noticed the change in Aiden’s demeanor, because Sam was now looking directly at him with a strange expression.
Aiden forced a smile. “Nothing. It’s been a long night.” It was a lie, of course. Aiden knew what he was feeling had nothing to do with performing or even Cam.
“Then let me make it better for you.” Without waiting for a response from Aiden, Sam began to take Aiden’s clothes off. His fingers brushed Aiden’s neck as he loosened and tossed away the black silk bow tie. Sam undid the black studs of Aiden’s tuxedo shirt, pausing with each stud to feather kisses at each inch of flesh he revealed. He kissed Aiden on the lips as he slipped the silver-and-black cufflinks from Aiden’s wrists.
Throughout all of this, Aiden watched in silence, pulling his thoughts back from the reality of Sam’s impending departure to the reality of the here and now. He would not waste the time they had left together; he would cherish it.
Perhaps Sam felt the same, because he took his time to acknowledge each bit of skin revealed as he continued to remove Aiden’s clothing.
“Christ… it feels so good.” Aiden’s legs shook as he stepped out of his pants and boxers.
Sam held out his hand and led Aiden to the bed. “Make love to me, Sammy.”
Slow. So I can remember you.
Damn. Aiden didn’t want this to end. Why the hell did it have to end? He was almost foolish enough to raise the subject with Sam, but then Sam kissed him again—and thank God for that. Aiden wouldn’t spoil the time they had left.