Rough Attraction (25 page)

And that coil of energy was suddenly exploding inside— small bombs detonating in his gut, his head and his heart.
Fuck!
His head screamed.

What seemed like a frozen, silent eternity finally dropped and reality kicked in, he glanced around and— Maxum was flying solo.
Where was June Cleaver?

“We— we’ve met.” Maxum stammered as did his hands. First frozen at his side then seemingly considering offering to shake hands, but that failed too and they dropped back down to remain at his side. There was a ripple of emotions over Maxum’s face that seemed to match what Darko felt, but gone too soon to know just which ones were winning out. Save the last lingering one of puzzlement, “What are you doing here?”

The question of suspicion hit Darko wrong, he was almost inclined to either ignore him and not answer, or say something rude, like pointing out that Diesel used the word
friend
, but he bit the retort back. He wouldn’t do that in front of his friends— or to Maxum for that matter. It wasn’t the place to stage a personal drama. “You remember—” he paused not sure of just how privately Maxum and Diesel knew each other and perhaps—
well fuck, this was just getting harder
. He wasn’t the type to hide behind smoke screens, but then he had been Maxum’s affair and realized what he was about to say would be incriminating and quickly rephrased himself. “My brother Pyotr recently adopted his lover’s sister as a daughter—”

“The one I met at your brother’s house. She was sick. ” Maxum’s comment dismissed any secrecy and his concern showed. It was a small comfort for Darko. Maxum was snapping his fingers, “Kimmi—” the snapping stopped and he pointed a finger as if pointing out the answer to his silent question, “Wasn’t her name Kimmi? She has leukemia? I’m sorry.” He surrendered some grief that may have also been to him as well as for Kimmi, some portion saying
I’m sorry I should have known
.

Darko was almost surprised that Maxum would risk outing himself, but it fazed him little. It was hard standing here next to him pretending to be little or say nothing at all of how they knew each other. He hated even more that he was still strongly attracted to the man.

“Yes. She is still sick.” Darko’s head motioned towards Diesel, “He’s her guardian angel. This gala is for others like her.”

Maxum suddenly stiffened up, right in front of him. He looked almost nervous like he was ready to bolt and Darko had to wonder why he would react so strongly to unless—

Diesel grew antsy as well, “Say Maxum,” his hand taking the man by the shoulder and pulling him along almost pushing him towards Darko, his eyes watching something else in the crowd of guests, “why don’t you take Darko out on the dance floor for a tune.”

“But I don’t know how—”

“Yeah, but Darko does and he loves to dance.” Next thing Darko knew, Diesel had practically strung he and Maxum up together and sent them rushing in another direction, while he took off in another direction. Even Maxum seemed to glance over his shoulder a moment. Darko bunched his brows up in a near glare at Maxum who now had him by the arm, intent on doing just what Diesel had instructed him to do. Maxum steered him more toward the center of the crowd then finally pulled him around to face him.

The
Schiller
tune wasn’t fast and grinding like the music that called to Darko at Club Pain, but not so slow it was like cowboy-slow dancing. Never the less, Maxum was suddenly two left feet, save for his arms that quickly took their place around his body as if it was the one thing in life Maxum needed in order to live.

Darko for a moment melted right into it, for the same misconception.
He needed it.

He did what he could to lead the man into a moving tempo of simple footsteps, but he wasn’t doing so well himself as emotions bum-rushed him and he finally just surrendered his forehead to Maxum’s, closing his eyes while the two of them just rocked in place.

Darko felt himself leaning into the strong arms that held him, almost as if he needed them there to hold him up. He heard the low rumble of Maxum’s own surrender to the moment and he relaxed into him, feeling a warm brush of fingers up his spine. But, Maxum’s mind was someplace else. The grinding of gear evident.

“What has you so deep in thought?”

He felt Maxum shake his head stutteringly, then looked up at him, pained and troubled by something. Maxum’s hand came up to caress his temple, eyes wandering over his face and hair as if to— well Darko wasn’t sure really. “You’re not a rent boy. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I—” he shook his head again and his face clearly said he wasn’t happy about the words that fell from his mouth, “I wish I had treated you better, because you deserved better.” Their dancing came to a grinding halt and the room fell away until it was just the two of them and nothing else, “I wish I could have another chance to be better for you.”

Maxum’s deep tenored voice rolled across his skin, speeding up Darko’s heart rate. His breath drew in deep and felt heavy in his chest.

Schiller’s mood swimming lyrics filled the ballroom with words that seemed to talk just to them.

—
I’ve been here all the time. I’ve been here all the time. As far as I know doing right. I’ve always waited for the moment that you would come walking through my door. —

Darko’s eyes filled with his presence. Maxum had always looked good, but tonight he was different. He still had the suit jacket that hid his masculine frame. Yet the hand died silk shirt underneath was thin enough, Darko was certain if he tried, he could taste the man through it and that alone had his mouth watering for a taste he knew he enjoyed.
Fuck, the things this man made him feel
. He felt the pull to lean in, kiss Maxum, and let him know he could have it—

“Mind if I cut in?” A rather agitated voice broke through the spell and they both snapped around to see Sognac standing there next to them and none too pleased.

Maxum’s expression collapsed and he took a step back, “Of course.” He surrendered Darko respectfully to the date he brought with him. Once more, the planet was slammed to a halt and Darko even felt the tilt from the centrifugal force in his chest as he watched Maxum in silent, emotional horror disappear back out to the mingling social crowd.

Fuck.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Maxum found his way back to Diesel, spotting him talking with Bob and Sandra. Both known for their outstanding involvement in community improvement and if there was a fundraiser gala being held, they were likely to be there. He caught words about the ear marked funds for the new wing at the cancer center when he stepped up, only to freeze in his footsteps to see Simeon chatting as always the usual social butterfly among them as if waiting for him to arrive. Bob was quickly drawing Maxum into the conversation while Sandra went on about the Guardian Angel’s Program getting a large boost of funds from tonight to help cover personal care expenses not covered by standard insurance and to help low income families. Maxum was about to make an escape for the bar when he turned and there was Darko with the intruder who had stolen the moment he was hoping to rediscover with the man.

Well fuck.
Wasn’t this a thrill ride through Dante’s hell?
He might as well drive his car into an oncoming train for all the wreckage he was feeling inside right now.

Someone behind him commented to Maxum directly about something, his brain clicking into autopilot, staying his feet and he answered without really paying attention to what he said or what the conversation was anymore. He just stared at Darko.
Fuck, he wished he could erase all this, start all over again. Do it differently. Something
—
Anything.
He just wanted to say he was sorry and beg Darko to let him have a chance to make things between them right.

The conversation about the treatment center shifted to names of people or children there, and something sank in. Something Darko had said— before the dance floor. And quite suddenly Maxum was interrupting them all, directing his question to Darko, “Back there you said this event was for others
like
her.
Like Kimmi
— but you didn’t say it would help her. Why?”

Darko kept silent even as everyone turned to look at them both. Sensing there was far more being said then what they heard. Diesel shook his head and took Maxum’s shoulder with a firm hand, “She signed her terminal declamation papers.”

“What does that mean?” Simeon asked, having held on to every word said between them. It annoyed Darko— no it pissed him off actually. He didn’t care if Simeon cared or not.

“It means Kimmi will die of Leukemia.” Darko fell laconic and stepped away. His New Year’s evening going from glum to dismantled in two-point-five-seconds. Had to be a world record for cursed luck. He didn’t even bother to see if Sognac was following him and kinda hoped he wasn’t. He just didn’t need to be consoled by someone whose compatibility felt like sand in his carburetors. He stopped at the bar and ordered a double shot of tequila, then turned leaning back on it; looking out to the man, he left standing with Diesel. His heart wondering if he troubled Maxum’s mind as much as Maxum St. Laurents troubled his. He almost didn’t notice when Trenton Leos stepped up.

“Do you want to be with him or not?”

Darko’s head nearly spun off at the question, and it took a long moment to form coherent words. “I— I’m not sure anymore. I mean, I wanted to, just not sure it’s worth being tossed away over and over.”

Trenton nodded to him in understanding.

“I mean what’s the point if he is still with his partner.”

“Maxum and Simeon are no longer together. Maxum came alone, only Simeon came alone as well knowing he would be here and is trying hard to hang onto his bragging rights.”

Darko leaned forward a bit at the revelation of news. “So why don’t you throw him out?”

“Wanting something you took for granted and now can’t have, isn’t a crime.” Trenton’s gaze moved from him out into the crowd of people, “Besides, it seems there will be more discovered and learned tonight by letting him stay.” Trenton let out a heavy sigh. One that was practically mirrored by Darko.
Why the fuck did life, have to be so complicated?

“Maxum is an extremely powerful and clever man. He doesn’t make his living off of directing businesses, he does it by being in charge of people’s private personal funds and knows how to direct people to his will. It’s also a very volatile and high stress job. So when he comes home he wants something comfortable and secure.” Trenton turned back to him and smiled, the Dominus’ Bailey’s-n-crème eyes glinting with the understanding of the pleasures that came with power. “Hard to believe he is so mellow inside. Only it’s hard to find comfort foods when you have bold tastes like he does. However, there is one thing you can count on. He will sacrifice so much; he will flex, bend, and even give up things to make you happy.” Trenton’s attention moved to Katianna who sat quietly in his lap, listening and watching the crowd herself. His eyes floating over her features, taking in every detail of her body before looking back at him, “Can you say you would have ever done as much for someone you wanted?”

Darko had listened but more so he saw
.
—
taking in every detail
— just as Maxum was looking at him only a moment ago. “But I haven’t asked Maxum to give anything up. I just wanted him to let us have a chance by trying, to not get dismissed just because we started off fucking like a fire storm.”

“Perhaps you should have.” Trenton’s smile almost chuckling at him, the way Pyotr always did. “Asked something of him.” The man added to be sure Darko caught on.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Maxum had watched Darko walk away. He knew not to chase him down, but his eyes tracked him to his very location. Nor was he going to leave him there for long. He looked at the man who had interrupted his moment with Darko, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.” Maxum extended his hand out.

“Sognac. Like cognac but with an
S
.”

Maxum nodded, not sure why the man felt he had to give a reference for his name. Saying it was good enough without the example of enunciation. “Sognac. Okay, I’m Maxum and this here’s Simeon.” Maxum pulled Simeon up, his hand gently pressing on his back, bringing him up to play the social butterfly.

Sognac easily traded hands for Simeon’s. Like clockwork, Sim fell into a well-rehearsed dance step of approach.

“So how long have you known Darko?” Maxum struck up conversation.

“Just met tonight. A friend of ours hooked us up, kinda last minute thing.”

Maxum nodded. For some reason that bit of information made him feel better and he was noticing that Sognac hadn’t actually let go of Simeon’s hand yet. “Say, ah, Sognac, why don’t you and Simeon go to the bar and get some champagne. I’d like a chance to talk to Mr. Gentry alone a minute.” Simeon swayed up to the man without even a glance in Maxum’s direction. Something that, in the past, would have only added to his misery in their relationship, but not this time. This time he planned and banked on it. He was watching this ship sail for the last time. He almost wanted to wave them farewell, but it would have been a bittersweet gesture of mockery. Not so much that Simeon did just as he figured he would and was so easily detoured by other men, but that this was what Maxum kept shoving Darko away for.

Maxum glanced at Diesel and he looked as if he already knew what he was going to say. Though Maxum wasn’t really sure himself. “I-uh— I know we’re business associates and never really been close, but I don’t know who else to turn to.” The man just looked at him, quietly. That was something he’d always noticed about Diesel Gentry, he wasn’t a talkative man. Quiet came easily for him. “It may not be my place to ask or your place to answer, but I really do need some insight on the man.”

“You mean Darko don’t you?”