I Beleive Now (3 page)

Marvelous!

Absolutely amazing
.

This had been the very first time Max hit his orgasm
first
. In that moment, as Max's hot seed shot into Asher, he felt Asher hit his own orgasm with a long cry. Asher went over the edge, also in an incredibly powerful release. They rode out the spasms together to the end. Finally Max collapsed onto Asher, eliciting a soft moan from him. Then, quite on its own, an audible moan actually escaped Max's lips as well.

Max slid off of Asher and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight. He really didn't want to think too much about what just happened but he knew something did. Just what exactly, he wasn't sure. All he knew was he was deeply satisfied and content in this moment, lying next to this young man, basking in this unbelievable afterglow. But somehow…something had changed.

* * * *

"So how much longer are you on this assignment?" Max had just lit a cigarette as they sat together on the couch, both in robes, both with a glass of wine, waiting for Asher's surprise dinner to arrive. Max seemed pleased with the plans Asher had made. However, Max made it perfectly clear he did
not
like the possibility someone other than him would have been allowed into the penthouse. Max said he was definitely going to talk to the guards and take care of that little chink in the armor. Damn it.

They had already taken the bubble bath, although Asher did not have a chance to put in the bubbles and he honestly did forget to turn on the music…but it wasn't necessarily his fault either. Asher had simply bent over at the waist to turn on the water for the bath. The fact he was naked at the time, spread his legs just a bit and wiggled his ass just a tad probably had something to do with Max grabbing him from behind and lifting him into the tub while letting the water run. Max sat down first then sat Asher right on his lap. Asher's opening, still lubed up and soft from just moments before, took Max's once-again hard member in fully on the first thrust. When had the sex maniac put on another condom? By time the water needed to be shut off or it'd overflow, there really was no point in even finding the bubbles or taking the time to turn on any music. Instead, once again spent, they lay back, Asher in Max's protective arms, and simply enjoyed each other's company until the water cooled.

Now, sitting on the couch, Asher leaned into Max's shoulder as the older man put his arm around Asher and pulled him close. Asher had become very used to the feeling of being safe and…and what? Loved? Ha!

Well…yeah. Loved. Max Tyler's kind of love.

Asher sighed. "About three days—maybe four—for this first book. I'm not sure. I want to move the location from these tourist parks, though, to maybe downtown again. Get some more shots at night. Tomorrow I'll make that decision."

Max chuckled. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Asher laughed as he pulled away. "Yeah…even though I know you're the one who got me the job."

Max reached over and grabbed Asher around the neck and pulled him back into his embrace. "I didn't get you the job. You applied along with thirty other photographers and got the job yourself."

"See? Right there! That's how come I know you did it. I never told you any of that."

Max looked down into Asher's face with a smile. "Do you think I would allow you to do anything without checking it out first? Of course I know all about it."

"Oh…yeah, that's you, Mr Paranoid. Right." He shifted under Max's arm, not really sure how to take all this overprotectiveness. "So…you didn't threaten any lives or anything? You know, call in some markers?"

Max laughed, something Asher noticed he was doing a lot more of recently. "No, I did not threaten any lives or call in any markers." He sobered. "Are you disappointed?"

Narrowing his eyes, Asher turned to look at Max.
Disappointed? Really? Do I actually want Max to do those things for me?
Well, not threaten people or anything, but maybe the occasional marker would be nice—but then again, maybe just a little irritating too. If the mere mention of Max's name could move mountains, small accomplishments—like these photo books—should mean little-to-nothing, even in his own opinion.

But truthfully, he lost himself every time he lifted the camera to his eye. The hours flew by as he chased the light and shadows. The moments he seemed to be able to capture… No, not just moments, but emotion. And not just capture, but create something that would speak to everyone who took the time to look. Sometimes it was just an image, but other times he knew he could make people see what he saw at that moment. He could make people feel the reason he clicked the button in the first place. He felt the magic flow through him and he knew at least some of the shots were exceptional. So at the moment, anyway, it really didn't matter to him what Max's name alone could accomplish.

"No. Of course not. I am certainly not disappointed. I love the fact I got the job on my own…if I did." He saw Max smirk as he put the thin cigarette to his mouth. "I'm having fun and the shots are turning out great. I might even enter some of the shots in this contest coming up. The winner will have a showing of their work at the next Art Fair Chicago."

Max nodded his head. "I've gone to that a few times."

Asher once again pulled back after he had settled into Max's shoulder and looked up at him. "What? You? Cultured? You're kidding me, right?"

Max smiled but it looked more like he had just been insulted. "Even cold blooded, ruthless criminals enjoy art, Asher."

Well, Asher had to admit the old man did have taste. One look at this living room alone screamed all kinds of things about Max's personality—sharp, clean lines; minimalist simplicity with only a touch of color. He leaned back into the couch, suddenly feeling tired again but not taking his eyes off of his lover's wickedly beautiful face. "I bet if I had any of the pictures I already took of you being the cold blooded—what was that again? Oh yeah,
ruthless
criminal—I'd win for sure. Maybe I need to take some more."

Max raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry. I'm not following you." Asher huffed out.

"I know."

"But
you
are having me followed."

"I am."

"Why?"

"I think that would be obvious. To keep you safe."

"There isn't anyone out to get me anymore…except you, that is."

Max made no comment as he set his now-empty glass down on the table in front of him and snuffed out his cigarette.

"Hey! There
is
no one out to get me, right?"

"Of course not. But I am still going to protect you."

"Yeah, well, I noticed a few more guards than usual today. What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself about."

"So there
is
something going on.
What
?" Asher sat up straight and looked right at Max, his heart suddenly tripping. "Did something happen?"

Max simply took Asher's glass from his hand and set it down, too, then took the front of Asher's robe and pulled him into a firm kiss. Asher fought for a bit, finally being shoved down onto the couch and pinned. Max broke the kiss just so he could whisper in his ear, "It is none of your concern. Stay out of it. I will take care of everything." Then he took him into a deeper kiss, his hands exploring, making Asher forget they were even talking.

Asher wondered vaguely what would become of dinner.

* * * *

"Asher, please, don't run off like that." Kira had finally caught up to Asher and grabbed his arm as he swung Asher around to face him. "If Mr Tyler knew how you always do this, he'll be angry."

Asher didn't mean to run off, at least not this time. But he could have sworn he saw someone he knew—someone who made his heart leap so hard it actually hurt. Asher had moved his entire operation downtown and had just set up a great shot when out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw him. The man's face didn't actually register in his brain right away. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought the guy looked familiar—very familiar.

Then it hit him.

Jackson? Congressman Jackson!

Freaking fucking A… Are you fucking kidding me?

Asher took off running after him because at the moment, the man had gone around a corner and if Asher didn't move his ass, he'd never know if it was Jackson or not. He never gave even one iota of a thought to his own safety, or what he even planned on doing, if indeed the man was Jackson and he caught up to him. He never even looked back, just grabbed his camera and sprinted off down the sidewalk without a word.

However, Kira, despite his size, could move like the wind. A main reason, Asher was told, the man had this assignment. But so could Asher and honestly, the only reason the big man was able to catch Asher so fast, was because when Asher rounded the same corner the mysterious man had, he just wasn't there. He had disappeared. So Asher stopped dead in his tracks.

Asher shot a confused look at Kira over his shoulder as the man tried to stop before plowing right into him. Now, as Asher faced him, Kira painfully gripping his shoulders, even more confusion muddled his brain. "I'm sorry. I just thought I…" His voice trailed off. He shook out of Kira's hold, turned around again and his attention went back to the sidewalk in front of them.
Where the hell did the guy go?
Sure, he lost sight of him when the guy went around the corner but Asher could have only been maybe two seconds behind him. That's all. How could he have just disappeared?

Whatever the situation, disappearing like that seemed suspicious. Asher really thought it was Jackson, too. But how was it even be possible? The guy should be in prison, right? Asher had seen his face again and again on the news, not to mention he remembered the face from the pictures he'd taken that time.

Geez, what a night that had been. Asher's brother had owed a man named Brogan a hefty amount a money. His brother, having already been beaten to a pulp, another beating was likely to have killed him. Brogan was a serious thug. However, neither Asher nor Asher's brother had that kind of money. But Brogan had a solution. Asher was to take his precious camera to an abandoned section of the warehouse district and, from a rooftop, take pictures of an illegal meeting. If he did this, his brother's debt would be cleared.

Even though it sounded incredibly shady, it also sounded easy, so Asher had said yes.

But then, from his vantage point on top of the warehouse—where he assumed this unknown congressman was going to be taking some sort of a bribe from a shady, prominent businessman—he had inadvertently seen a lot more than just a clandestine meeting about to take place. Arriving almost two hours early, Asher saw when a dark van pulled up, letting out six ninja-type gunman who proceeded to melt into the shadows. Then Jackson himself showed up, appearing to have no idea at all there were six AK-47s aimed right at his head at that very moment. Of course, Asher had no idea at the time what the man's name was, but he sure as hell learned it later.

Lucky for his boss and lover, Max Tyler, there even
was
a later.

Again, at the time, Asher had absolutely no clue Max Tyler was, in truth, Mr Blue Eyes, the man who had seduced Asher only hours before Asher climbed up onto that rooftop.

Max Tyler
.

Owner of Club Rise and who knew how many others in and around the Chicago area; extremely influential in not only politics but also in the underground—the term "prominent business man" was, by far, the understatement of the century. Needless to say, Asher was shocked—and totally confused.

All he knew was
something
wasn't right about any of it.

Luckily it had dawned on him in time. The real purpose in his being in the nosebleed section was to take pictures of Max Tyler being assassinated.

No. Fucking. Way.

He screamed out to Max that it was a trap and to run. Asher saved Max's life that night, and later he learned Jackson had been in on the plot to kill Max. The man belonged in jail. But, obviously, that's not where he was, because there was no doubt in Asher's mind the guy he just chased was Jackson.

He also knew Jackson had been accused of killing a man named Corrington, someone
else
who had tried to kill Max by blowing up Max
and
Asher not long after the warehouse incident, both about a year ago. Of course, it probably meant Jackson had something to do with that bomb as well—more reason for the guy to be behind bars, not waltzing his fat ass up and down the city streets.

Geez.
That was another senseless move on Asher's part. Forced into action in order to save his brother's life, Brogan had given Asher a flash drive. He had told him to fill it with the bank information from Max's computer, bring it back to him, and then he'd tell Asher where his kidnapped brother was. But just like the first time he was sent in to do a job, he had been lied to. Somehow Max knew and got them both under his amazingly indestructible desk before the damn bomb went off. But Brogan was not the bomber. According to Max, it had been Corrington who was responsible for the powerful explosives being placed into the flash drive Asher had so stupidly and dutifully carted right up to Max's office via his pants pocket.

Shit!
What a moron he had been.

Well, it didn't really matter who was the mastermind. Asher could not care less who was responsible for the explosives or who orchestrated the event. There was no doubt in his mind Jackson was up to his blue-blooded
earlobes
in trying to get rid of his Max, and Asher was absolutely damned if he was going to sit back and watch the asshole try anything else.

But, what was Asher going to do with this knowledge that Jackson was alive and free?

"Asher, are you all right?" Kira said in a concerned voice, forcing Asher to once again turn and look at him.

"Yeah!" Asher smiled brightly. No way could he tell Kira, because he'd be forced to tell Max and Max would simply pull the plug on his project, done or not. Asher would then be basically shackled to the penthouse again and he would absolutely fucking
die
. "I just thought I saw someone I knew. Sorry. It won't happen again." He shook his head. What difference did it make anyway? So what if the courts failed to put the fucker in prison, even if he
had
been involved? The whole ordeal of having all those charges laid against him, especially murder, had to have scared the crap out of the guy. There was no way in hell he'd want to even show his face, much less do something stupid again. Probably the reason the guy ran.