Play Along (6 page)

Mark froze at the sound of that voice. He watched, dumbstruck, as the men shook hands and the younger of the two headed for the exit while the other approached the counter.

The girl behind the desk began typing furiously, an impatient frown marring her freckled face. "Yes, of course. Just one moment, sir. I was about to get this gentleman here checked in. What was your name, sir?"

Mark had no time to answer. The businessman turned and looked at him, recognition immediately lighting in his eyes. "Holy shit. Mark Nelson!"

Mark looked down at the familiar face of Nathan Marshall and tried to remember how to breathe. Nate was still stunning, the same blond hair and piercing blue eyes, the same firm athletic build filling out a pair of slacks and a clinging, white dress shirt. Mark found himself suddenly embraced by his former lover in a macho hug, Nate slapping his back harder than necessary. The man hadn't changed at all.

"Good to see you again, Nate."

Nate stepped back and looked him over, his eyes raking over Mark's body like a caress, and Mark's knees nearly gave out under him.

"God Mark, you're fucking huge! Looking good!" Nate reached out and squeezed the muscles in his arm and Mark's face heated in a pleased but embarrassed blush. He'd been awkward and gangly in his youth, a high metabolism keeping his six foot five inch frame thin and almost gaunt. He'd been too clumsy to consider sports, but Ricardo had encouraged him to go to the gym regularly after Nate bailed on him, and as he'd matured it had paid off, allowing him to bulk up and fill out.

"You haven't changed a bit, Nate, not at all. It's great to see you again. It's been too long." Mark covered Nate's hand with his own and smiled fondly at him. He was surprised when a sudden rush of butterflies invaded his stomach. Nate still turned him on as much as he had twenty-five years ago. He hadn't expected that, not at all.

The receptionist cleared her throat and tapped a key card against the counter to get Mark's attention. Her eyes were narrowed, but she smiled as she held the card out to him. "You'll be in room 709, Mr Nelson. Carl can show you the way."

A bored-looking teenager appeared from behind them and reached for Mark's bag. Nate released Mark's arm and grabbed the bag himself, shaking his head at the teenager. "That won't be necessary, Carl. I'll show my friend to his room myself. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Mark nodded his thanks to them both before following Nate to the elevator. He pushed the button for the seventh floor, surreptitiously admiring Nate's reflection as he bent over to set Mark's bag on the floor. The car began to move, and Nate stepped closer, reaching out and brushing imaginary lint off Mark's shirt.

"
I knew you would come. You never were able to resist
coming
for me.
"

Nate's hand brushed quickly over Mark's groin, and Mark jumped in surprise, caught off guard by the playful grope.

"It's been a long time. I've wondered how you've been, how you've changed. I've missed you." Mark bit his tongue, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.

Nate grinned back up at him. "Well, I'm very glad you're here."

The doors opened and Nate led him down the hallway. When they reached the room, Nate pulled out a card from his wallet and used it to open Mark's door. "Passkey," he explained as Mark followed him in. Closing the door behind them, Nate held up Mark's bag. "Where do you want this?"

Mark grabbed the handle, unsettled by how nervous he felt about being alone with Nate. "I'll take it." He carried the bag over to the dresser, putting some much needed distance between himself and Nate. He took a deep breath before bending over the bag to unpack his things. His body remembered Nate, and embarrassingly, it still responded to him the way it had when they were together. He needed to get himself back under control before he did or said something stupid.

With his pulse pounding in his ears he didn't hear Nate approach, but a moment later he felt Nate's hands on his shoulders, pushing him down further over the dresser top. Stunned, he stood passive as Nate ground his solid erection against his ass, his hands sliding down Mark's back and grasping his hips.

"Damn, Mark, this brings back memories, seeing you bent over the furniture like this," Nate breathed into his ear, pushing a knee between Mark's thighs and spreading his legs.

Mark closed his eyes and slumped down over his bag, clutching the sides of the dresser. He was so turned on it hurt, memories of his time with Nate flooding his senses. "You have no idea how much I missed this, missed you. Missed having you inside me."

Nate's hand slid around to Mark's fly, opening his pants and closing on Mark's solid erection. "Yeah. You want that now, don't you? You want my dick up your ass, pounding you raw. That's what you came for, isn't it?"

Mark groaned, overwhelmed by the sensations of having Nate pressed against his back, his erection aching painfully as Nate fondled him with rough, hard tugs.

"Aw, fuck, Nate! Fuck!" One of Mark's hands joined Nate's inside his pants. Nate slid his hand down Mark's shaft and grabbed his balls, tugging them sharply before stepping back and smacking him on the ass. Mark stroked himself to the sounds of clinking of metal and rustling of fabric behind him.

"Oh, I intend to buddy. Don't you worry about that."

Mark's legs began to tremble with anticipation, and for an all too brief moment they were kids again, lovers again. With his eyes closed tight and the man he'd been in love with pressed against him, Mark could believe they were back in their apartment twenty-five years earlier, that nothing had changed.

But as his pants slid down around his thighs and the cool air from the hotel room washed over his bare ass, Mark forced his eyes open. Staring back at him from the mirror on top of the dresser, he faced his own reflection, with its gray hairs peppered into his close-cut black hair, the deep lines around his troubled brown eyes. A glint of light sparkled off the edge of Ricardo's watch, reminding Mark that he and Nate weren't kids anymore. They were no longer lovers—or even friends— at this point. They were strangers now, with nothing between them but bad memories.

His erection began to flag with his conflicting emotions, and Mark drew himself up to his full height. He grabbed his pants and pulled them back up before turning to face his former lover. Nate had his pants open and his shaft in hand, leisurely stroking himself as he watched Mark. Nate's cock was swollen and dripping pre-cum, and despite his resolve not to take this any further, Mark couldn't stop himself from licking his lips.

Nate noticed, of course, and a smarmy grin split his handsome face. "You want to suck me first, buddy?"

Nate really hadn't changed one bit, and Mark found himself swallowing back bile as he studied the lustful yet emotionless expression on Nate's face. Mark's anger made him bold, and he closed the distance between himself and Nate, caressing the smaller man's lips with the index finger of one hand and grabbing his ass with the other. "Or you could suck me first; before I spread you out on that bed over there and nail you into the mattress."

Nate eyes flashed with anger and he quickly stepped away, glaring up at Mark. "You stupid, fucking tease! I saw how excited you were, bent over for me just now. You want it as badly as I do, so why waste time with these stupid games? Just drop your pants and I can give you what you really want."

Nate's words hit Mark like a slap in the face, cruelly reminding him of how one-sided their relationship had always been. He tried to suppress the shudder Nate's words invoked. This man had been his world once, and it embarrassed him to realize how completely selfish Nate really was.

Mark hadn't come for a last fling with an old flame. He'd come hoping to find a good man madly in love with his wife and leading a happy life. Instead, he found the same cold-hearted bastard he'd once foolishly loved, expecting Mark to fall to his knees and worship him. He had expected better, but after this, he could definitely close the door and walk away the way he should have done all those years ago. "You should go." Mark zipped up his pants and looked down into Nate's angry eyes.

Nate tugged firmly on his cock and again closed the distance between the two men, reaching for the zipper on Mark's pants. "Really, Mark, let me at least give you what you came for first. You know you want it."

Mark slapped his hand away and stepped back out of his reach. "I don't sleep with married men, asshole. I'm here for your anniversary, you prick!"

Nate smirked and shook his head, chuckling at Mark's reaction. "Still the sentimental fool you always were, aren't you? Fine. You can have it your way for now." He shrugged and carefully tucked himself back into his pants, zipping back up. "But we both know you didn't come all this way just to congratulate me. You'll be on your hands and knees begging me for it before this week ends, and we both know it." Nate opened the door, pausing only long enough to wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.

The door closed behind the arrogant prick and Mark sat abruptly on the edge of the dresser. He drew in a shaky breath, fighting off the sting of angry tears. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to having sex with that bastard. He shouldn't have come here. He should have thrown the damn envelope away unopened and left things the way they were. But no. He had to come back for more of the same abuse Nate had given him the last time. Nate was right about one thing: Mark never could refuse him anything. Whenever Nate called, guess who came running? Twenty-five years and a real, loving relationship later and Nate still had him on the edge.

But Nate hadn't gotten what he wanted, had he? Mark swiped his hands across his eyes and stood up. This trip had already served a purpose. Seeing Nate again hurt, but it was like having a broken bone set. He had to endure the pain of everything being shoved into place so he could heal properly.

Mark dug his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing a number he should have called long ago. The call was answered on the second ring, and the voice of Ricardo's brother, Manuel, sounded in Mark's ear.

"
Hola
?
"

"
Hola, hermano!
"
Mark clutched the phone and smiled. Manny
'
s familiar voice, so like his brother
'
s
,
soothed away the tension that had built inside Mark during his confrontation with Nate.

"
Mark? Is that you? It
'
s been a long time,
mijo,
a really long time.
"

Mark's smile faltered, remembering guiltily that the last time he'd seen his brother-in-law was at Ricardo's funeral.

"I know. I'm sorry, Manny. How have you been? How's business?"

Manny was an engineer with a crew of skilled laborers, freelance carpenters and construction workers who hired out their services to companies running behind on their deadlines. When business was slow, they took on odd jobs remodeling kitchens and bathrooms or building gazebos and benches for wealthy locals.

"
Slow
.
Not much happening in the city right now. We put up a new wrap-around porch last week, repaired a few roofs. Nothing exciting
,
though. What about you, the bar still hopping?
"

"Well, actually, yeah. Yeah, the bar hasn't slowed down a bit. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if maybe you and your guys might still be interested in expanding the place for me, like we were planning, before…"

Before Ricardo died.

Mark didn't finish the thought; he didn't have to. Ricardo had asked his brother to draw up plans for expanding the bar several months before his accident. They were going to knock out the far wall, raise the stage, and build a balcony for added floor space.

"Hell, yes! Me and some of the guys, we were talking about that just the other day, wondering when you were ever going to call. Are you ready for this?"

Mark laughed at the man's exuberance, his excitement returning after a long dormant stretch. "I think it's time. The place has been too small for a long time, and if I don't do something soon the overcrowding problem will force people to find somewhere else to go, if the outdated style doesn't run them off first."

"Well, then let's do this thing! You still happy with the plans we made before, or do you want me to draw up something new?"

Mark considered the question for a while, remembering Louie's suggestion that they add a second bar and Ricardo's dream of adding a game room in back. If he was going to do this, why not do it right? "Actually, Manny, I've got a few more ideas I'd like to run by you."

"
Great! I
'
ll dig out the old plans and we can go over them, see what kind of changes you want to make. When do you want to get started?
"

Mark could hear the excitement in Manny's voice and he grinned, glad that he'd found an ally. Manny had been a part of the crew that fixed the place up when he'd first bought it. It felt right, having him on board again now.

"I'm ready, Manny. Does next week work for you?"

"That soon? You're serious?"

"I've put this off long enough. I don't want to give myself a chance to back out. I… I need this. The sooner we get the plans together, the sooner we can get started. I fly back in Sunday morning. We could go over the plans Sunday night. What do you say?" Mark caught himself picking at the hotel wallpaper, nervously waiting for Manny's reply. He stopped himself and sat down heavily on the bed.

"
Fly back in?
Demonios
.
Where are you?
Is everything okay
? What happen
e
d
Mark
?
"
Manny
'
s reply caught Mark off guard. He
'
d forgotten how perceptive the man was. He could read Mark almost as well as Ricardo had.