Love Most Inconvenient Page 8

  Chapter Five

  A little while before the Thanksgiving break, Paul came home to find Marco packing. He was surprised that Matt was there with him. He could hear them in the bedroom, talking and laughing. Paul sat on the sofa feeling super depressed suddenly, which made no sense. He didn’t know what in hell was going on with him lately.

  When Marco and Matt emerged from the room, it was obvious they’d just finished making love. They were fully dressed, but clearly straight from the shower. Matt had a giant hickey on his neck that he displayed quite proudly.

  Paul said hello, which earned him a polite hello in return from both men. “Marco,” Paul said, watching him take leftovers out of the fridge.

  “Um?” Marco asked, putting some ham in his mouth.

  “When are you leaving?”

  Marco had been distant again since that kiss the other night. Paul was hoping they could get past this feeling of uneasiness.

  “Tonight,” he said.

  Paul looked at Matt, who’d joined Marco at the counter. Marco fed him a piece of ham. They laughed. Paul looked away, their intimacy grating on him suddenly.

  “So, are you going to say where you’re going, or is it a secret?”

  “To Rio, for a whole month, lie in the sun, and…” Marco began.

  “Make love and make love some more,” Matt added, grabbing Marco and kissing him hotly.

  Paul stiffened. “A month?”

  “Is there a problem?” Marco looked at him.

  Paul nodded soberly. He’d thought Marco was going alone.

  Matt left the room for a second to get his stuff. Marco started making a sandwich. Paul stood up and walked over to him. “This seems pretty serious, between you and Matt. So, you’re finally settling down?” Paul asked, his voice trembling.

  Marco shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “Which means?” Paul probed.

  “What do you care?” Marco asked, meeting his eyes. “You have Phil to worry about.”

  “I … well … I care about you, like you said the other night, we’re friends. I don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all. I’d like to see you happy.”

  “Um. Well, thanks for your concern. Don’t worry about me,” he replied. “I can take care of myself. You have much bigger problems with what’s his name.”

  Matt finally left, saying something about waiting downstairs. Paul tried to think of something to say. “You know, Phil has saved the holiday to be with me.”

  “You told me that already, twice,” Marco reminded him. “What in hell do you want me to say? Lucky you,” he sang, checking his suitcase.

  What did he expect Marco to say? Did he want him to be jealous? Paul watched him closely as he took his suitcase out into the hallway.

  “Phil’s trying.” Paul met Marco’s gaze.

  “Paul, don’t tell me, tell yourself. Phil is constantly trying; the question is, trying to do what? Believe what you want to believe.” Marco sighed. “You’re determined to think Phil will do the right thing and maybe he will. You’ve always believed exactly what you wanted about Phil”—he paused and looked at him—“and about me.”

  Paul balked. “What do you mean, about you?”

  “You thought you knew what kind of man I was right from the very beginning. You wanted to believe I was some kind of heartbreaking Romeo, so you never even gave me a chance.” He reached in the closet for his coat.

  “I didn’t know that you … ah, wanted a chance,” Paul managed, feeling quite desperate all of a sudden.

  Marco shrugged his broad shoulders, turning around. “It doesn’t matter if I did or not. And do you know what’s so fucking ironic? You really did end up with the heartbreaker after all. I never understood it. What in hell was it about me that scared you so much, Paul?”

  Paul opened his mouth, then closed it. How could he tell him that just looking at him made him tremble all over? How could he explain that? How could he explain to Marco that the man could bring him to his knees with just a look, that loving him could rip out his heart if Marco ever rejected him? How could he tell him that he loved him way too much?

  “Well,” Marco said suddenly, “I got to go. See you around. Take care … and”—he turned around at the door—“good luck with Phillip. I mean that sincerely. If he’s really what you want, I hope it works out for you.”

  “You sound as if … like you’re not coming back?” Paul said. He laughed faintly, but it rang hollow.

  Marco didn’t answer. He just walked out and shut the door behind him.

  All that night, Paul lay awake thinking about what Marco said. It was true, all of it. That night two years ago, he’d seen that guy run out of this place crying, and he had never even bothered to ask Marco to explain his side of it. He’d just assumed Marco had used that guy, and had tossed him aside. And the guy he thought was safe, Phil, his boy next door, was the one who had betrayed him.

  Paul tried to put it all out of his mind. He told himself he and Phil still had a chance. He went about preparing the turkey dinner. Then he waited. When Phillip didn’t show by midnight, he knew he wasn’t going to. But this time, he felt relief. It was over, but then so was his excuse. He had never been in love with Phil. He’d used him to keep himself from facing the truth. He was in love with Marco, and he’d been in love with him from the moment he’d laid eyes on him. What he’d been looking for was exactly where his best friend Tony said it was, right in front of his eyes.

  That Monday he went back to the office and when Phillip came in, prepared to give him his excuses, Paul looked at him and shook his head. “Marco was so right about you. You’re a loser. And finally I’ve woken up. Phillip, I don’t love you anymore. In fact, I don’t think I ever did. I don’t want you. Although I wasn’t making love with Marco, I sure as hell should have been. All those nights I wasted with him just down the hall. I’m in love with Marco, and when he comes home, I’m going to tell him so.”

  Phillip laughed bitterly. “Well, good luck, because the way I hear it, buddy, you blew it. He’s not coming back. He gave his notice to the station the day before he left. The boss practically begged him on his knees to stay. Guess they’ll have to find a new golden boy, and you’ll have to get yourself another fantasy.”

  Paul gasped. “He never said anything.”

  “No,” Phillip threw back at him, “he wouldn’t. He just figured you were too damn stupid to figure it out, too focused on me. Guess he was right.”

  Paul felt sick to his stomach. “What are you … what are you talking about?”

  “He’s in love with you,” he sneered. “Everyone could see it. All that concern about our relationship, the way he took you in. Christ, the guy almost broke my arm in his freaking bathroom. Well, have fun being alone,” he said, and walked off.

  Paul rushed into the boss’s office without knocking. “I have to have a week of vacation, now,” he begged.

  The answer was no.

  Paul looked his boss in the eyes. “Listen to me; I can get Marco to come back to the station; at least, I think I can. You do want him back, don’t you?”

  “I’m listening.” He stood.

  “Let me go to Rio, talk to him. Jack, I’m going to tell you the truth, and I don’t give a shit if you approve or not. I’m in love with him, and I messed up big-time. I think he’s leaving because of me. I have to go after him, with or without your permission. If you won’t give me this week off, I’m going to quit!”

  Jack was silent for a long time, then he frowned. “All right, go on, and personally I don’t give a shit how you get him back here, just do it.” He handed Paul a paper with the name of a hotel on it and Marco’s room number. “This is where he’s staying. I was supposed to forward his pay.”

  Paul grabbed the paper and ran out the door. He called Tony as soon as he had made the reservations. “Tony, I’m going after him,” he said into the phone.

  “Paul, let him go. Phil is a no-good—”

  “Not Phil. I’m going a
fter Marco. I’m in love with him. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to beg him to come home.” Tears stung his eyes. “He left the station. I think it’s because of me. He never really said, but I’m sure that’s what it is. I’ve been so stupid.”

  “Finally!” Tony exclaimed. “Go get him, Paul. You’re meant for each other.”

  “He’s with someone,” Paul said hesitantly. “He left with another guy.”

  “Paul, give it your best shot. Don’t come home without him.”

  “I won’t,” he said with determination, and hung up. He had a flight booked to Rio that night. He’d been lucky to get the last room available at the same hotel where Marco was staying. He had one shot. He had to make this work.

  On the plane he thought about his last words to Phillip. Phillip hadn’t even seemed upset when he’d told him it was over. Boy, had he ever played Paul for an idiot. Marco had been right all along. Please, he prayed, please God, let him believe me when I tell him how I feel, let him still care.

  When he got to the hotel room, he paced the floor nervously. Coincidentally, he was down the hall from Marco and Matt’s room. Should he call him? Should he just bump into him? No matter how he did it, Marco was going to be surprised to see him there. He decided to say that Jack had sent him to convince him to stay at the station. That would work for starters. Yes.

  He called the hotel switchboard and was connected to Marco’s room. Marco answered right away. “Hello?”

  “Marco,” Paul said into the receiver, clutching the phone.

  “Paul?” he replied, his voice surprised. “What’s wrong? Is everything all right? Did something break at the apartment?”

  “No. I’m not at the apartment. I’m … ah … down the hall.” He waited for a reaction.

  “What room?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said, and hung up.

  Seconds later, there was a knock on the door. Paul opened it. Marco eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jack sent me to convince you to come back.”

  “I’m not going back.”

  “Marco, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving the station? What were you going to do about the apartment?”

  “I bought the apartment before I left, Paul. You can live there rent free as long as you like. I would have told you. I left a letter for you on your desk. I guess you didn’t see it.”

  “What did you say in the letter?”

  Marco shrugged. “I told you about the apartment. I said that I needed a change.” He walked over to the window. He turned around a few seconds later, smiled at him. “Why would Jack send you to talk me into coming back? He knew I’d made up my mind.”

  Paul swallowed. “He knows we’re friends, and he thinks you care about me.”

  “I do care about you,” he said.

  There was a silence. Paul took a deep breath. “This Matt guy, do you love him?”

  “Not yet.”

  Paul laced his fingers together. “Jack didn’t send me out here.”

  Marco lifted an eyebrow.

  Paul ran his gaze over him, the white shorts, light blue tank top, hair tied back, those eyes, looking at him now, so beautiful, questioning.

  “No. I came because I…” Paul’s voice faltered.

  “You came because you what?” Marco took a step toward him. “You what, Paul?” he persisted, reaching over and taking one of his hands.

  Tears lit Paul’s eyes. “I love you. I loved you the moment I saw you. It took me by surprise, scared the shit out of me. You were larger than life … you are larger than life and I … please tell me it’s not too late. Tell me that…”

  But before he could go on, Marco pulled him into his arms and kissed him deeply, ran his hands over his back, then let him go.

  “That was some answer,” Paul replied, spellbound.

  “I can do better, if you let me.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Paul laughed a little. “But what about Matt?” His heart was racing, his face not able to contain his smile.

  “Matt who?” he asked softly.

  “Marco, you just can’t leave Matt hanging, like with Shawn and…”

  “Do you want to know what happened with Shawn and I? Do you care to hear my side now?”

  Paul nodded.

  “Shawn and I slept together once. It was after an office party. We both had a little bit too much to drink. I tried to let him down easy. He became clingy. Before the party, I had given him the key to my apartment because he’d agreed to check on things when I took my vacation that summer. I regretted it. Things got out of hand. I know, I might not have handled it the way I should have. I tried to be nice, but…” He threw up his hands. “I had nothing to do with him losing his job. He did that all on his own. I actually tried to talk Jack into giving him a break. Do you believe me?”

  Paul nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. And Matt? You can’t just leave him down the hall.”

  “Matt isn’t down the hall. I’m alone.”

  “Then where is he?”

  “On tour. He was only traveling halfway with me.”

  Paul gasped. “You made me believe that you were going to Rio with him! He played along?”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “Matt is actually the kind of guy you want to avoid getting involved with. It was only sex with us, nothing more. When he realized how desperately I loved you, he suggested that we pretend we were going together.” Marco pulled Paul back into his arms. “I was hoping for a reaction. It seems to have worked?”

  Paul grinned. “Yeah, it worked,” he said grudgingly. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “Will you forgive me?” Marco looked down into his eyes, kissed his mouth tenderly. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

  “Oh baby,” Paul cooed, undoing the tie from Marco’s hair, “do I have a list for you.”

  “A list, eh?” he said, a twinkle in those dark eyes.

  “Oh yeah.” Paul nodded. “First, take off those clothes, all of them. No more taunting me with your half naked body like you did back home.”

  “Taunting you?”

  “Off, now,” Paul demanded, grabbing his shirt. “And you’re going to talk dirty to me with that sexy radio voice of yours and…”

  Marco brushed his hands away and undid his shirt. He tossed it aside. “You know,” he mused, pulling Paul’s T-shirt over his head, “I just might have some demands of my own. After all, you have made me wait for over two years.” He reached for Paul’s pants.

  “As if you’ve been depriving yourself,” he accused with a grin.

  “I have.” Marco smiled. “All those others were just poor substitutes for the real thing.” He moved his lips down Paul’s chest and started stroking his erection. “I don’t have any wives in the closet, sweetie. All I have is me. And I’m all yours. Think you can handle it?” He sank to his knees and took Paul’s cock into his mouth. Marco looked up at him, and met his eyes; his lips tightened around Paul’s shaft.

  Paul moaned. “I’m willing to give it the old … ah … college … oh my God … college ahhhh.” He forgot what he was saying suddenly; the expert maneuvering of Marco’s tongue was turning any words he might utter into gibberish. He let his head go back, every nerve in his body tense. Oh, he was so close. He wanted to hold on. He wanted it to last forever.

  Marco took him deeper, swallowing. He felt the head of his cock touch the wall of Marco’s throat. Jesus God. He let out a shout and came, his cock spurting out reams of cum as Marco sat back on the floor and smiled at him.

  Paul reached out to steady himself, his body shuddering with the remainder of his release. He looked down at Marco. He was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But damn it, he still had those shorts on. Paul licked his lips, his knees weak. “Take off your…”

  Marco got to his feet. Seductively, he stripped down naked and then motioned to Paul with his finger. Paul followed him to the bed. He w
ould have followed him anywhere. Marco lay on the bed and gave him that beguiling smile. “Come and get it, baby. Come and make love to me. And make me feel it ’cause I’ve been waiting for you oh so long.”

  Paul trembled as he moved down into his arms and kissed his mouth. It was like ambrosia and chocolate, the most numbing sense of euphoria he’d ever experienced. Marco’s hands moved over his body, and almost reverently, Paul began to kiss every succulent inch of him.

  “Here is Marco Delino,” he said in his sexiest radio voice, “coming to you live, in fact, very live”—he glanced down at his own erection comically—“from Rio, where the most wonderful guy I’ve ever known is making passionate love to me, and I surrender. I surrender myself to him before all others. I give to him all my love, my heart, my body, and my soul. I love you, Paul Conners. Will you take me and make me yours for the rest of my life?”

  Paul raised his head and looked at him, tears burning his eyes. “Baby,” he whispered, “oh, baby. I love you Marco.” He grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily. “I take you forever, my beautiful lover. You’re mine, for the rest of my life. Make me yours now.”

  Paul reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. He rolled it onto Marco’s cock, then straddled it. He closed his eyes as he felt Marco’s cock slide up inside of him. He looked down to see the bliss on Marco’s handsome face. He took him deeper. Marco gasped, then reached up to touch Paul’s face. Paul began to ride his cock, to make it his. He’d waited so long for something he didn’t even think was possible. He took it hard and fast, finally slowing to catch his breath.

  Marco bucked underneath him. Paul laughed, his hands settling on his hard, sculptured abs. “Slow down there, cowboy,” he cooed teasingly as he reared up off of his cock and then took him back inside, inch by succulent inch. He wiggled down onto his hips, taking as much of him as he possibly could. “You’re a big boy,” he whispered with a slow smile.

  Marco reached up for his face and dragged his mouth to his. Paul lost himself in that kiss. He couldn’t help thinking how many men would have killed to be in his, ah … position right now. He moved a little, letting himself feel Marco’s cock burrowed deep inside of him.