Golden Dancer (9 page)

Those black eyes bored into him. “Do you really believe that?”

He met the man’s gaze. “No.”

“You know he’s mad for you, and if he can just be honest with himself for five minutes at a time, he’ll be here begging to fuck you.”

“I doubt he’ll achieve that level of honesty, but yes, I think he is mad for me.”

“And you for him?”

Trelain sighed. Life could be so bloody complicated. “Yes, there is some madness there.”

“It’s not hard to understand why. He’s intriguing, intellectually curious, energetic, and magnetic. Plus, that big, skinny body is sexy as hell.”

“But then, so are you.”

“Am I?”

“You surely don’t have to ask.”

“I find myself unusually uncertain of my status.”

Well, bloody hell, if that wasn’t the sweetest little declaration. Trelain leaned toward Daniel. “Could I perhaps show you just how sexy, magnetic, and energetic I think you are?” Trelain unwrapped Daniel’s robe to find an already pulsing, hard-as-steel cock.

“Um, don’t forget intellectually curious. I find I’m intellectually curious about what it would feel like to have your beautiful, uncut cock in my ass, since we were thwarted in our attempt this afternoon.”

“Oh, yes. I’m totally dedicated to research.”

Daniel’s breath already came hard. “Shall I turn over?”

“No, I want to see your face when I fuck you.”

“Oh shit, Trelain. Do it now.” He started to pull his long legs back.

Trelain reached out and stopped him. “Ah, ah. First I want to satisfy my intellectual curiosity by tasting every inch of you.”

Now his breath was gasping. “I’ll never last. I’ll come.”

“Come away,
bolshoi chelovek
; I’m still going to pound your arse.” He reached over and extracted a condom and some lube from the nightstand.

“What does that mean?” Daniel barely got the words out.

“Big man.” Trelain grabbed Daniel’s cock. “And you are a very big man, indeed.” He kissed the end of the dripping penis, then slid his body up Daniel’s until he could nibble on his neck and then close his mouth over Daniel’s in a deep soul kiss. He felt that sweet tongue slide over his just as he wanted to slide his body over Daniel’s. Oh yes, he was lovely. He pulled away from the kiss. Time this bloke found out what a dancer could really do with his body. Undulating against Daniel’s cock until the man was practically screaming, he licked and kissed down his neck to his chest. Mm, what a sweet creature he was. And a little salty.

By the time Trelain got to his belly button, Daniel was moaning and bucking his hips. His big cock stretched up above his navel. Delicious. Trelain dipped his tongue in the delicious innie and then lapped at the big red cockhead. A little in, a little around, a little in—

“Oh, shiiiit, please fuck me, please.”

“Oh, you asked so nicely, bolshoi chelovek. It will be my pleasure.” He pushed hard on Daniel’s legs, and the man grabbed them and pulled them back until his arse faced up at Trelain. What a beautiful sight. A blob of lube on two fingers and Trelain pushed into that obviously eager hole. He dipped inside, then pushed hard, so his long fingers found Daniel’s prostate.

“Oh, shit, yes.” Daniel’s cries filled the room, and he seemed to have worked out how to rock his arse to push back hard on Trelain’s questing fingers. Oh, yes, the man liked it deep.

With his other hand, Trelain slid on a condom and slathered lube on his own cock. He could hardly wait to get it in. The whole teasing enterprise had driven him just as crazy as his lover. He pulled out his fingers and positioned his cock. Fortunately, Russian men were often well-endowed, even if they were small and slim, so he had enough equipment to make a good dent in this lovely bottom. “Daniel, look at me.”

The man opened his eyes, but the moans continued. “Hurry, need to come. Hurry.”

Gazing into those drowning dark eyes, Trelain pushed his dick deep and got a low howl for his trouble. Who would have believed the man would like to bottom this much? Bloody hell, Trelain loved being his top. Hot, deep, and tight. Obviously, the man didn’t get fucked often. His hole was like a sweet vise closing around Trelain’s hungry dick. He pulled out. Daniel moaned. He pushed in. He moaned louder. And then Trelain began to hammer, deep, deep, deeper. Hot, so hot. His body rubbed hard against the big, hard cock on his belly. In and out, in and out. Tight, hot bliss. He couldn’t see anymore, just the light behind his eyelids as he pushed forward on the strength of his arms, feeling like his cock was where it needed to be. Harder and harder.

“Oh, baby, you’re doing it. You’re making me come. You’re making me blow my load, baby. Baby, shit, shit…” And his howl shook the walls.

Trelain vaguely thought of the servants and the noise before his eyesight went black, heat rushed from his balls to his head, and it felt like his entire insides were spurting into the condom in Daniel’s hot arse. Bloody, fucking hell. His body collapsed onto Daniel’s sticky chest, and he felt the tremors of the big man’s orgasm still rolling through his body. This was so good, it frightened him. How could he be slightly mad for two men at the same time? He didn’t commit, ever. He’d lost his mind.

He heard a chuckle. “I think my curiosity is satisfied.” And he fell asleep to the vibration of Daniel’s happy laughter.

Chapter Ten

Mac pulled up to the gate of Terrebone’s estate by the water. He ran a hand through the unruly curls. Too long, as usual. Too messy. Even more usual. But he’d slept badly and then, when he did sleep, missed his alarm. The photographers would be here any minute. Crap, he’d hoped for a bit more snooping time before he had to start supervising.

A phone call from Woo this morning had driven all questions as to loyalty out of his mind. He was a reporter. A good one. He’d get the photos, do the profile, and hopefully, find some useful leads for his Terrebone-the-billionaire-is-a-big-fat-thief story. Of course, he hadn’t made any promises to her about that story. In fact, she seemed to think he was slightly batty on the subject, but he knew better. Something that well planned and executed had to have a mastermind behind it. One with serious money and a very big brain. Terrebone had both, plus motivation, since Von Berg refused to sell. He sighed. A shame, though—he kind of liked the guy. He was sorry he had to bring him down.

As if by magic, the gate opened, and he drove onto the circular drive. As for the Trelain business, he’d decided to just fucking table the issue. So maybe he was attracted to the man. What the fuck, the dancer was beautiful. It didn’t necessarily mean Mac was gay. And even if he was fighting those instincts, as Debbie thought, he sure as hell shouldn’t earn his homo merit badge with Trelain Medveyev. That was Eagle Scout material, and he wasn’t even a Cub. So he’d get the pictures, try to dig up some dirt on Daniel, and get the hell out of here. That was his agenda.

The butler met him at the car and took some of his bags.

“Your photographers called a few moments ago, sir, for last-minute directions. They should be here any time. Mr. Terrebone and Mr. Medveyev have not arisen yet.”

Mac tried to ignore the combined sick and sexual feeling that attacked his stomach. The two men were still in bed together. Probably busy fucking. Crap, his cock got a charge out of that. Down boy. Trelain knew they had a lot of setup to do before he was needed for shooting, so he wouldn’t be in any rush. Time for other agendas.

“May I scout around the house a bit for good photo locations?”

“Of course, sir, as long as you don’t disturb the gentlemen.” He held the front door as Mac walked in. “All areas are open to you, except, of course, for Mr. Terrebone’s office. That we wouldn’t want to disturb.”

Mac looked at the man’s impassive professional face. Maybe “we” wouldn’t want to disturb the office, but Mac sure as hell would. Best goodies would be there. How could he get in? “Thanks. I’ll look around.”

Sure enough, a half-hour of so-called scouting revealed nothing except that Terrebone had impeccable taste and a generous heart. Or at least that was the impression he wanted to give. Where other wealthy men kept photos of themselves with presidents and prime ministers, the billionaire had a wall of thank-you notes and wishes from children he supported through charities all over the world. Must have a good PR person.

Still, what in hell would a man who obviously gave money away like water want with another priceless work of art? He’d almost certainly done it. The thieves had made it through advanced cycling password encryption systems and complex locking and alarm devices like they were children’s toys. That kind of sophistication took big bucks. Terrebone had both the desire, as displayed by his outlandish offer to buy the statue, and the money to carry off a theft. But why would a guy who was clearly bright take such a chance for just another trophy? He had dozens of pieces of pricey art in this estate and had a bunch of other houses that were probably the same. Mac walked down the hall toward the living room. Maybe he didn’t need a reason. Maybe the guy had just done it because he could. And there was no affection between Terrebone and the owner of the statue, Von Berg. Maybe that’s why he did it, to give Von Berg the shaft.

The photographers had lights and electrical cords set up in the comfortable great room with its open pivot doors leading out to the terrace. They also planned some shots by the pool and perhaps a few by the ocean. Mac watched them tape down the cabling so no one tripped.

“Good morning, Mac-Kenzie.”

He turned and was struck straight in the face by Trelain’s amazing beauty. It robbed him of breath. And the response seemed to be getting worse, not better, each time he saw the dancer.

Today, the man was wearing a pair of jeans and a beautiful teal silk shirt that made his eyes glow like jewelry. Mac forced himself to speak. “Good morning. Sleep well?” Crap. Snarky much?

“Extremely well, thank you.” Okay, snarky back.

“I think the photographers are about ready for you.”

Trelain made a graceful gesture to his body. “Are these clothes appropriate, or should I be more formal?”

“No, you’re perfect.” Man, that was the truth. “We want this to look like a day-in-the-life, so casual is good.”

“I did my own makeup. I’m sure the photographers will let me know if I need more.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think to bring a stylist. But you look great.” The turquoise eyes glittered at him. Shit, he was so beautiful.

The photographer called for Trelain, and Mac watched them settle him on the big sectional leather couch that dominated the great room. They tilted the light to perfectly capture that chiseled profile etched against the huge open doors to the terrace.

The next hour was a study in agonized frustration. Not because the shoot didn’t go well. Hell, no, the dancer was clearly at home in front of cameras and gave them every pose they asked for and then some. No, the frustration came from trying to control his fucking cock that just wanted to get hard and stay hard watching the man. Trelain moved like some kind of mythical creature, all boneless and silky. Every gesture was graceful, but never affected. He was, as Mac had so appropriately said, perfect. But shit, Mac had to get under control. His responses were just some weird mixture of childhood admiration and deprived libido. He had to find a girl and get himself laid. Funny how that idea had no fucking appeal.

They had finished the inside shoot and taken some shots down on the beach. Trelain with a Frisbee. Though he swore he’d never played with one before, he managed to make the game a study in balletic virtuosity, leaping in the air to catch the plastic disk like the birdman he was. Now, they were waiting for the dancer to emerge from the pool house for their final setups. The photographer had been in discussion with Trelain about these shots for some time, but Mac hadn’t listened in. They already had tons of good material. Woo would be ecstatic. He just wanted to get the fuck out of here.

Terrebone had been conspicuously absent all morning, which had kept Mac from snooping. He figured the billionaire was working in his office, so not much chance of slipping in an open door. Mac saw the man emerge from the house just as he heard a soft gasp behind him. He turned to see the photographer’s grip standing frozen, staring. Mac followed his gaze and joined the catatonia. Holy blessed God. Trelain had emerged from the pool house stark naked. He walked out onto the pool deck, lit by the spring sun and the carefully placed floodlights. Everything in Mac’s body was motionless except his cock, which rose like it was the Fourth of July. Jesus, he’d thought the trunks Trelain had worn earlier hadn’t covered much, but it turned out to be quite a bit. Yes, he’d actually touched that cock, but he hadn’t really looked at it. Big for a smallish man, and loose and low-hanging, and, of course, uncut. A shower for sure, but he knew personally that it was also a grower.

It wasn’t the size of his equipment that captivated the audience, however; it was the sheer beauty of the whole package. As Mac watched, the dancer rose on the bare, callused toes of one foot, bringing an arm up in a graceful arc and raising the other leg so it hid his penis from the camera. The photographer began clicking again and again. Mac stared, transfixed. He realized this was an homage to a famous nude photo layout in
Vogue
magazine of the great Russian dancer, Nureyev. Trelain’s golden mane of hair was nothing like Rudy’s scruffy brown shag cut from the sixties, but his body was even more perfect—broader in the chest and shoulders, longer legs.

He had cotton in his mouth. His cock was painful.

“Enjoying the shoot?”

Mac started and looked up at the silver-haired menace. Shit, what he so did not need at this moment was the gloating billionaire. He crossed his hands in front of his crotch, realized it just brought attention to his condition, and dropped them to his sides and cleared his throat. Gotta be some spit in there somewhere. “Uh, yeah, it’s going great.”

“He is amazing, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jesus, he had to get out of here.

“I’m having a party for Trelain here at the house tonight. A gathering of friends I think he will enjoy. His next to the last night of this minivacation and all. I’d love it if you’d come. About eight. Does that work for you?”