Something Like Thunder (46 page)

Nathaniel wasn’t content with this alone. As he continued to suck, he reached up and across those abs, felt Kelly’s chest, returned south to caress his hips and stroke his legs. Anywhere he could reach, Nathaniel wanted to touch, and so he did, Kelly moaning his approval. Nathaniel’s own body began to ache with need, so he stopped what he was doing and looked up.

Kelly raised his head to see why he’d stopped. “What?”

“I’ve been dreaming about those lips every night. Or at least right before bed.”

Kelly’s eyes became half-lidded. “What did you dream I’d do with these lips?”

“Stay right there and I’ll show you.”

Nathaniel climbed up, placing a knee to either side of Kelly’s head and using one hand to point his dick downward. He rubbed the head of his cock across the closed lips, which opened in invitation. Nathaniel slid inside, the sensation overwhelming. Digital porn and a palm greased with lotion couldn’t compete with this. Kelly’s head was bobbing, but soon Nathaniel’s hips were thrusting, deeper and deeper, but Kelly seemed able to take it, his nose bumping into Nathaniel’s pelvis a few times. He found himself getting close, but he didn’t want to finish yet. Not in this position.

Nathaniel rolled over onto his back. “Come sit on me.”

“Condoms and lube,” Kelly said. Then he added, “And a few more nights like this, because I’m not ready yet.”

“That’s fine,” Nathaniel assured him. “That’s not what I meant anyway. Come here.”

Kelly climbed up and over, that gorgeous bubble butt of his settling down on Nathaniel’s cock. He might not be ready emotionally, but when Nathaniel flexed it a few times, he could tell Kelly’s body was willing.

“I love your face,” Nathaniel said, grabbing Kelly’s hips and grinding against him. “So many expressions.” Then he shifted Kelly downward enough that Nathaniel could sit up. They were facing each other, Kelly in his lap, arms and leg wrapped around Nathaniel as they kissed. Their hands reached for the same area, bumping together before adjusting and pressing their cocks together. Nathaniel’s was still wet from Kelly slobbering on it, but that wasn’t enough for their hands to slide freely. He looked down, took aim, and spit, Kelly doing the same. Then they laughed at the absurdity of this. Their levity didn’t last long. Nathaniel locked eyes with Kelly as they resumed pumping. He paced himself, not wanting it to end, watching every sensation play out on Kelly’s face. More so than ever, especially in the throes of bliss, Kelly was beautiful. If only the camera could capture him now! Nathaniel wouldn’t let that happen. This was for him alone. The handsome face became strained as he struggled to hold back the inevitable. Nathaniel thrust against him a few times, bringing their mouths together but not allowing them to touch. “Come with me,” he whispered.

Kelly chewed his bottom lip and nodded, his expression shifting to need. Nathaniel pumped faster, still waiting for the right moment, but that face was so damn beautiful that he couldn’t hold back. Hot white liquid splashed against the dark skin of Kelly’s chin. Mere seconds later, Nathaniel felt more of the same covering his stomach, Kelly nearly howling in ecstasy. Nathaniel leaned forward to kiss him, mostly to shut him up before the neighbors could complain. They shared the same air, gasping against each other. When their breath slowed to mere panting, Nathaniel grabbed Kelly and fell backward, holding him tight. He didn’t want to let go. Not ever. Eventually he sensed Kelly wasn’t exactly comfortable and loosened his grip.

Kelly rolled off. Nathaniel’s mind summoned up ghostly echoes of words he used to speak after such moments. Promises of love or jokes about what they had done or demands for more. Instead the room was filled with a heavy silence—his fault because he’d forbidden anything more than the act they had just shared. Maybe he had been wrong.

“Kelly—” he said, but his new lover was already sitting up, groping over the edge of the mattress for his clothes. “What are you doing?”

“Just friends,” Kelly said, sounding upbeat. “I’m totally cool with that. Don’t worry. Besides, I sort of stole my mom’s car and should probably get it back.”

Nathaniel weighed this information. Part of him wanted more. Just a little affection, that’s all. This could be the best of both worlds. A friend, and when needed, slightly more. “You’re really okay with this?”

“Yeah!” Kelly said.

“In that case,” Nathaniel reached out and grabbed him, dragging him back into bed, “friends have sleepovers too, you know.”

“I suppose they do.” Kelly’s back was still to him, so Nathaniel couldn’t see his expression, but he didn’t sound despairing. “And I suppose when my mom finds both me and the car missing, she won’t call the cops right away.”

“Exactly.”

“How about a towel? You’re a human geyser!”

Nathaniel grinned. He did tend to make a mess. “Sorry. Be right back.”

He wasn’t sure how clean the towel in the bathroom was, and even though it would get much dirtier, he still wanted to present Kelly with something decent. He went to the hallway instead, Zero slinking along behind him on his way back into the room. Nathaniel pretended not to notice.

“The dog isn’t sleeping with us, is he?” Kelly said with a hint of a smile.

“It’s actually his bed.” Nathaniel tossed him the towel. “Zero got a part-time job to pay for it and everything. If we’re lucky, he’ll let us share it with him. It’s either that or the couch.”

“I suppose we’ll have to make do.” Kelly finished wiping off and threw the towel back, Nathaniel finding one end still dry enough to use. Then he tossed it aside and flopped into bed, patting an empty space next to him out of habit that Zero soon filled.

“You sleep naked with the dog?”

“Don’t worry, he’s naked too. No collar, see? He’ll let you wear it if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“That’s all right.” Kelly found something wet just above his collarbone and looked at Nathaniel incredulously. When Nathaniel grinned shamelessly in response, he wiped it on the sheets defiantly. He considered the dog between them once more and sounded resigned as he got beneath the covers. “When in Rome…”

Nathaniel settled down, expecting a sense of warm satisfaction to lure him into sleep. That didn’t happen. He found himself still wanting. His body had been satisfied, but his heart… Nathaniel reached over, stroking Zero’s fur a few times before he let his hand settle there. Love. Just not the kind he was longing for. He listened to Kelly shift, surprised when fingers bumped into his. He didn’t know if it was pure chance, if Kelly was petting Zero without knowing his hand was there or if Kelly had reached for him specifically. Either way, the need in Nathaniel rose up. Only when he allowed their fingers to weave together did it settle down again.

Chapter Seventeen

Marcello didn’t play chess, not because he wasn’t skilled enough to master the game. Nathaniel’s theory was that the game was too simple for him. Or perhaps too convoluted, because while Marcello manipulated events with casual ease, he rarely utilized deception and deceit. Instead he simply gave other people whatever they desired. But first he made sure to convince them of what exactly that desire was. By no coincidence, this always coincided with his own needs.

Kelly was the perfect example. He had accepted the modeling contract on a purely temporary basis, since he was already enrolled in college and about to begin his first year. However, his summer job had attracted international attention, so delaying his education could be very profitable. Nathaniel knew Kelly wasn’t enthusiastic about studying, mainly because he didn’t know what career he wanted to pursue. Despite being professional and hardworking, Kelly wasn’t passionate about modeling. Getting him to commit to either path could have been tricky.

Not for Marcello. He idly dialed numbers on his phone, creating an assignment for Kelly at one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Clients normally came to him, but Marcello was comfortable making propositions when needed, such as the one he made to Kelly.

College could wait. The world was calling! Fame and fortune were too, but they wouldn’t stay on the line for long.

Check and mate. Kelly resisted the offer at first, but something had changed his mind. When they arrived at their hotel in Cancún, Nathaniel discovered what that ‘something’ was. One room. Nathaniel
knew
he had booked two, because he had made the reservation himself. He still had the email confirmation. When he tried to correct the situation, the desk clerk pointed out that the exclusive emperor’s suite had already been prepared, an expense that would need to be paid for even if they didn’t stay in the room.

They took the suite. Kelly seemed delighted. Nathaniel glowered at everyone in sight. He soon relaxed when discovering the suite had two separate bedrooms. Marcello probably envisioned them driven by temptation to visit each other in the night. His prediction would no doubt come true, which was frustrating because Nathaniel had stayed tight-lipped about the increasingly frequent sleepovers. They had an understanding: no talk of relationships, no sappy terms of endearment. He and Kelly conducted themselves professionally when at work, not even flirting behind closed doors. And yet Marcello seemed to know the truth anyway. This assignment—a business-class flight to Mexico, a stay in a luxurious suite, and a few days off after the shoot—was no coincidence. A honeymoon without the wedding.

Work came first. While on the way to their appointment, Nathaniel did his best to disregard Cancún’s azure waters and ivory beaches. The tanned bodies in swimsuits were a little harder to ignore, as were the scents drifting from the restaurants they cruised by. Nathaniel usually felt an aversion to such places, preferring to travel further down the road to wherever the locals called home. For a tourist trap though, Cancún sure did sparkle.

Their destination was equally as ostentatious, leaving him puzzled. Nathaniel had expected a studio with minimal windows to control the light. Instead they parked in front of a resort. He leaned forward to argue with the taxi driver, explaining that they weren’t tourists, but to no avail. The address was correct.

“Location shoot?” Kelly asked once they were out of the car.

“Maybe,” Nathaniel said. “The emails I got were hard to understand. Very broken English in all capital letters.” Bellboys rushed out to assist with their luggage, but all Nathaniel had with him was a laptop in its case. They still tried to take that from him until a glare sent them slinking away.

“Where do we go from here?” Kelly asked.

“Front desk, I guess.” Nathaniel strolled inside, the interior full of fountains, sculptures, polished brass, and squeaky-clean floors. This made him long for a couch covered in dog hair. Which reminded him… “You sure your brother knows what he’s doing?”

“I’m not answering that again,” Kelly said patiently.

“Taking care of a dog isn’t easy. What if he doesn’t cook for him? I don’t want Zero eating fast food. That’s not healthy.”

“We’ll send him to fat camp as soon as we’re back,” Kelly said, nodding and smiling at the front desk receptionist as she rattled off a greeting. She asked for their names, as if they were checking in.

“We’re here for the photo shoot,” Nathaniel said. When she looked at him blankly, he exhaled, because he felt stupid just saying the name. “We’re here to see the Lieutenant.”

“Ah! Yes, of course. Just a moment please.”

She picked up her phone, and when it clicked, loud party noises could be heard on the other end. She spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, listened for a response, and hung up.

“Just a moment please,” she repeated, smiling at them nonstop until another person arrived in the lobby.

The man looked starved and exhausted, which meant he probably shared Nathaniel’s occupation. No greeting was offered. He simply gestured for them to follow. Down a few hallways they reached the hotel ballroom. The space had been transformed by an explosion of clothing, which littered the floor, hung from racks, and stuck out of boxes and trunks. Scattered amongst these were little tables cluttered with makeup and mirrors. People were squeezed into any remaining room.

“Kelly Phillips?” their guide asked, leading them toward one corner.

“Yeah,” Nathaniel answered for him, struggling to keep up. “I’m sketchy on the details. Do you have studio space set up somewhere, or is this an outdoor shoot?”

“Outdoor,” the man said, pointing to open doors on the far side of the room. The light of a swimming pool shimmered beyond.

“Swimwear?” he asked. “The photos we were sent didn’t look like—”

“Here is your technician,” the man said, gesturing to a thin-faced woman with dark hair and eyes. “She can answer questions.”

Nathaniel attempted to block the man as he left, but he slipped away into the crowd.

“This looks like a fashion show,” Kelly said, as the technician pulled at his clothes with no regard for his privacy. All around the room, people were in various states of undress.

Nathaniel watched as the technician matched Kelly’s skin tone before she started powdering his bare chest. “Hey,” he said, trying to get her attention. “I need a schedule. When does the first shoot take place and what does it involve?”

She shook her head like he wasn’t making sense, then continued her work.

“It looks like a fashion show,” Kelly repeated.

“That’s not what you’re here for.” Nathaniel spun around, searching for someone—anyone—in charge. Eventually he spotted a short Mexican man with a gravity-defying coif of white hair. He wore huge shades that concealed his eyes and a lavender version of a military uniform. That had to be him. The Lieutenant. A fashion designer and a would-be dictator judging from the way he was making the rounds and barking orders. He was coming toward them anyway, so Nathaniel waited until he approached.

“I think there’s been some sort of mistake,” he said.

“Ah, the Americans.” The Lieutenant offered a smile that lasted a fraction of a second. Then he pushed past Nathaniel to face Kelly. “Have you seen them? I’ve made such wonderful things for you!”

“The outfits are beautiful,” Kelly said, remaining motionless so the technician could apply makeup, but his eyes were on the rack of clothing to his right.

“This looks like a fashion show,” Nathaniel said, borrowing Kelly’s words as he elbowed his way between them.

“That’s because it
is
a fashion show,” the Lieutenant said, looking up at him.

“I thought we were here for a photo shoot.”

The Lieutenant slowly took off his sunglasses and stared at Nathaniel. “There will be cameras. Lots of cameras. Taking pictures.”

“While he’s on the catwalk?”

“Yes! What, you thought he would be in a photo booth? Does he need passport photos made or something?”

Nathaniel was ready to growl a response, but Kelly intervened. “I’ve never been on a catwalk,” he explained. “It might be a little tricky with my crutches.”

The Lieutenant perked up. “Oh, no problem there! I have these for you!” He hustled over to the rack and pulled from the folds of clothing a pair of forearm crutches similar to Kelly’s, but these glittered and sparkled, the highly polished metal covered in clear multifaceted stones. The Lieutenant pushed away the makeup technician so he could hand them to Kelly. “Here you go. Give them a try.”

Kelly accepted them, but a shadow had come over his features and he was clenching his jaw.

Now it was Nathaniel’s turn to intervene. “He’s supposed to be here for a professional photo shoot, not a circus performance using those ridiculous things.”

The Lieutenant’s face grew red. “I designed these myself!”

“Obviously,” Kelly muttered.

“Listen,” Nathaniel said. “There’s been a misunderstanding, but if you’d like Kelly to model your
clothing
designs, we can grab a photographer and some lighting technicians and get set up somewhere. I’m sure a resort of this size has—”

“He’s a model.” the Lieutenant said. “Models go on the catwalk.”

“He doesn’t have any runway experience, and frankly, I feel like you’re being exploitative. If you want him for his appearance, that’s fine. If you want to pull some publicity stunt by—”

“Of course I’m being exploitative!” the Lieutenant shouted. “This entire industry is built on exploitation! You want diamonds because they sparkle? First you’ve got to wipe off the blood.”

“He’s not an object!”

“You don’t think we have beautiful black boys in Mexico? Why do you think he’s here?”

“To be respected as a model,” Nathaniel shouted back, “not some marketing gimmick!”

“He can go home if you don’t like—”

“That’s exactly what we’ll—”

“It’s fine!” Kelly snapped. Both men turned to him. “I can handle this. Really.”

“I’m glad one of you is professional!” the Lieutenant sulked before stalking off.

Nathaniel glared after him, then turned back to Kelly. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” Kelly gave a single nod, then the makeup technician descended on him again. “I’d feel worse if I ran away. I want to own this, make it mine.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel exhaled. “Whatever you want. I’m behind you all the way.”

“Thanks. Do you think I’ll have time to practice first?”

“Probably not. All you’ve got to do is have a shitload of attitude. Think you can manage?”

Kelly smirked. “That’s a rhetorical question, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Just don’t fall in the pool,” the makeup technician interjected.

“What?” Nathaniel asked.

“The pool. That’s where the catwalk goes.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he soon found out. Nathaniel walked to the end of the room and peered out the doors. The catwalk was narrow and transparent, which was bad enough, but it extended directly over a large swimming pool. One misstep would lead to disaster, a challenge for any model. Kelly had his work cut out for him.

* * * * *

The lights around the pool were low, the only luminance provided by narrow-beamed spotlights above and submersed lamps directly beneath the clear runway. This all changed when the first model stepped out from the doorway, camera flashes blazing. Blinding. Nathaniel barely paid attention to the model, noticing the water that had slopped onto the runway despite it being toweled off before the show. He sat front and center after bribing a member of the press to give up her seat. Nathaniel would be close, ready to dive in if Kelly fell into the water.

He watched impatiently as model after model crossed one leg over the other up the runway, hands on hips when they reached the end and turned around. Did they realize how lucky they were to move with perfect ease? To not need to compensate for a missing body part?

Kelly appeared. He did a damn fine job of slinking seductively down the runway, wearing an expression normally reserved for the bedroom. The gaudy crutches flashed and flared, reflecting the lights of the press back at them. The effect was surprisingly cool. The outfit was striking too, tailored for Kelly’s amputated limb, thin chains hanging down where the rest of his leg should be. Nathaniel braced himself, ready to beat any laughter into silence. Instead he heard gasps of awe. As Kelly reached the end, his crutches forming an X as he paused, the cameras couldn’t snap photos quickly enough. Nathaniel was even jostled as people tried to get a better angle.

He relaxed slightly, but each model had to make multiple rounds, which meant more chances for an accident. He watched as a stiletto heel slid off the edge of the transparent runway, the shoe grazing the water before the model caught her balance. The runway had been hard enough to see during the day, but now it must be nearly impossible, especially with so many lights flashing.

Kelly appeared again, this time wearing strange pants. One leg was white, the other black, and as the cloth neared his knees, the two shades spiraled down to his foot, creating the illusion that humans were one-legged creatures. Kelly was nearing the end of the runway when one of the crutches slipped on the wet surface, causing Kelly to stumble but not to fall. No one missed this, the audience tensing, but Kelly’s “I’m sexy as fuck” expression didn’t waver in the slightest. He swiftly recovered and kept moving.