Vintage Pride (8 page)

Marcus’ stories had piqued his imagination. He couldn’t believe a collection of valuable paintings could really have remained hidden somewhere in the château for the best part of seventy years, but it would make for great television if they could somehow work the legend into the show.

He walked on, caught up in thoughts of the work they needed to do tomorrow. When someone stepped out of the shadows in front of him, Ethan almost let out a scream. He stopped himself on realizing he was looking at Jean-Luc LeBlanc.

“I’m sorry if I alarmed you,” Jean-Luc said, “but I needed to speak with you again.”

“What—? How long have you been waiting here?”

“Only a few moments. I caught the sound of footsteps on the stairs, but they belonged to a tall man with curly black hair.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s Leon. He’s our sound man. He and I are sharing a room.”

Jean-Luc nodded slowly. “I thought that if he was making his way to bed you could not be far behind—and I was right.”

Stung by what he took to be an accusing tone in Jean-Luc’s voice, Ethan felt the need to defend himself, even though he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. “Hey, Leon and I aren’t a couple or anything. Your housekeeper just hadn’t prepared enough rooms that we could all have one to ourselves.”

“Ethan, I only meant that if one of you had left the room, Marcus’ little party must be breaking up.” Jean-Luc caught hold of Ethan’s arm.

Heat seemed to rise between them at the contact. Ethan looked into Jean-Luc’s eyes. In the low light they seemed to shine like gold and their pupils were dark, fathomless pools. He felt his grasp on his surroundings slip a little.

“I regret that I was so abrupt with you earlier.” Jean-Luc made no move to release his grip. “But it doesn’t mean I’m any happier with the fact you and your team will be carrying on your investigation around my home.”

“So why—?” If Jean-Luc was trying to apologize, he was going the long way around it.

“This may sound crazy, but since we met I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it was only a matter of hours ago but…”

He said nothing. The Frenchman’s words echoed his own thoughts so closely it scared him.

“Come up to my room, Ethan.”

“But I thought you said that part of the château was off-limits.”

“To your production crew and your cameras, yes, but not to you. Please.”

Ethan knew how much it must be costing Jean-Luc to issue this entreaty. More than anything, he wanted a glimpse into the private domain of this strange, secretive man. But he sensed that if he accepted the invitation, he’d be crossing a line—going to a place from where he might not be able to return unchanged.

We have an early start. I need to get some sleep.
The excuses hovered on his lips. He glanced again at the man he’d pictured as some great wounded beast and something in him melted. “Okay.”

Before he climbed the stairs, Ethan took off his sneakers. He didn’t know why—stone steps didn’t creak and even if they did, he doubted Leon would still be awake to hear the noise. It just felt like the right thing to do. Clutching the shoes in one hand, he followed Jean-Luc up to his quarters.

Stepping into the room only heightened his sense of being in some Baroque fairy tale. Its only concessions to the twenty-first century were the sleek iMac on Jean-Luc’s desk and an expensive-looking telescope that had been placed by the window. Every other item of furniture appeared as though it had been there since the days when the revolutionary mob had tried to storm Château LeBlanc. Thick animal pelts covered the floorboards and moonlight shone through the half-open drapes. A small part of Ethan wondered about the practicalities of living here. How did Jean-Luc heat the room? Did the door on the far side lead to a bathroom?
Why would anyone choose to shut themselves away in here when they could have the whole run of this incredible building?

“This is wonderful,” he said, regarding everything in more detail. The wooden-framed bed, which had the family crest carved into its footboard, was big enough to accommodate two people with ease. Ethan thought back to Agathe’s mention of Benoît and wondered whether that was who’d once slept alongside Jean-Luc. If so, there seemed to be no reminders of him in the room. The only photo he spotted was one of a younger Jean-Luc with what Ethan took to be his parents.

“Thank you. You see now why I’m not keen for anyone to intrude on my sanctuary.”

“So why I am here?”

“Because you’re not just anyone, Ethan.”

The kiss seemed to take Jean-Luc as much by surprise as it did Ethan. He thought he saw a momentary flicker of doubt cross the Frenchman’s face, as if he felt it would be more prudent to pull back from the brink than press on any further.

Are we making a mistake here?
If so, Ethan didn’t care. Right now, this was just what he needed to wipe away the last traces of his failed relationship with Boyd. He let his sneakers drop from nerveless fingers.

Jean-Luc pulled Ethan into his arms, planting his mouth hard on Ethan’s in a swift, demanding fashion.

He’d never been claimed in such an assertive manner before and he found his body responding. He wrapped his hands around the back of Jean-Luc’s neck and kissed him, his tongue battling with Jean-Luc’s and his breathing growing rapid and heavy.

“I’ve been trying to deny it to myself but I know you are the one.” Jean-Luc broke the kiss to murmur into Ethan’s ear, “Everything about you inflames me.” He paused, took a deep breath. “But before we go any further, there’s something I should tell you.”

Ethan shook his head, afraid the moment would be spoiled by Jean-Luc’s revelation. “Whatever it is, it can wait. This won’t.”

With each fresh kiss, the heat between them increased. Ethan had grown almost painfully hard. He ground his body against Jean-Luc’s, the bulge at his groin rubbing on a similarly thick protrusion concealed within the folds of Jean-Luc’s brown and gold jacquard robe.

Ethan’s jeans seemed a size too small, the zipper pressing uncomfortably at his sensitive flesh, even through the soft cotton of his underwear. He needed to be naked. More than that, he was impatient to see what this gorgeous man looked like once his clothes came off.

As if following the steps of some time-honored dance, Jean-Luc paced toward the bed, taking Ethan with him. Ethan allowed himself to be maneuvered backward until he felt the backs of his thighs bump the edge of the mattress. He sat heavily, the bedsprings creaking beneath his weight.

Jean-Luc reached for one of Ethan’s socks then pulled it off. He repeated the action with the other foot. Ethan wriggled his bare toes, wondering whether the man intended to strip him down to the skin.

He got his answer when Jean-Luc grabbed his belt buckle, making short work of unfastening both it and the fly of Ethan’s jeans. In moments, the items were off, leaving him in just T-shirt and underwear. The damp spot of pre-cum on the front of his briefs provided damning evidence of his mounting excitement.

Jean-Luc stepped back from the bed and untied the belt of his robe, letting it fall from his shoulders. He wore nothing beneath it. Ethan gazed in frank admiration at the Frenchman’s long, thick cock, rising proudly from the mat of blondish curls at his crotch. Unlike all of Ethan’s previous lovers, he was uncut. Ethan found himself wondering what it would be like to stroke that foreskin back and forth along Jean-Luc’s substantial shaft.

He had the opportunity to find out when Jean-Luc joined him on the mattress. As they kissed, Ethan put a hand down between their two bodies to grip that uncircumcised length. The feel of it had him smiling against Jean-Luc’s lips. So hard within yet wonderfully soft on the outside.

“
Ah, mon dieu
,” Jean-Luc muttered while Ethan continued to jerk him off. “You don’t know how long it’s been since anyone touched me like this.”

Ethan had gone through dry spells of his own and knew how overwhelming it had been when he’d found himself in the arms of another man once more. He slowed the pace of his caresses, not wanting to drive Jean-Luc to the point of release just yet.

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to stop.” Jean-Luc pouted.

“So tell me what you need,” Ethan replied, anxious to make this an experience neither of them would forget.

By way of answer, Jean-Luc rolled over on to his front, splaying his limbs and presenting his rump in an enticing fashion. The move surprised Ethan. Until now, the big Frenchman had been setting the pace of this encounter but it seemed he’d reached some kind of tipping point. It was almost as if he needed Ethan to take responsibility for whatever came next.

There are so many demons driving you, aren’t there? This Benoît, just how did he hurt you—and what can I do to make it right?

Ethan pulled off his T-shirt and briefs, then tossed them aside without caring where on the floor they fell. Being in control had made him momentarily reckless. He climbed on top of Jean-Luc’s long body and pressed sensual kisses to his shoulders. Jean-Luc smelled of sandalwood and pure musky male, the scent of his skin driving Ethan half-crazy with desire. He’d never believed in the power of pheromones when it came to finding Mr. Right but lying here, breathing this man in, he was beginning to change his mind.

Hey, don’t start thinking about LeBlanc as Mr. Right. If anything, he’s just Mr. Right Now…

Returning his thoughts to the task at hand, Ethan moved steadily lower, planting a trail of kisses along Jean-Luc’s spine until his mouth hovered over the divide between his partner’s butt cheeks. Without hesitating, he continued on his downward path, licking and lapping at that dark crease and finishing by running his tongue over Jean-Luc’s arsehole. The Frenchman smelled clean and fragrant there, as though he’d recently showered.

Jean-Luc grunted something into the pile of pillows on which his head rested. Ethan took that as permission to carry on licking his arse, before running a questing finger over the little dimple.

Jean-Luc lifted his head to murmur, “Please, I need you to fuck me.” The words sounded as though they’d been wrenched from a place deep inside him.

Ethan rose to a kneeling position.

“What about protection?”

Jean-Luc stared back at him over his shoulder. He looked baffled at first then appeared to realize what Ethan meant. “I don’t have any condoms, I’m afraid. I haven’t needed them for quite some time now.”

“Well, it’s a good job one of us is prepared.” Ethan hopped off the bed then picked up his discarded jeans. He reached into his back pocket to dig out his wallet. Boyd had been ready and willing for sex no matter the time or place, reveling in tempting Ethan to get down and dirty in locations where they ran the risk of being caught. As a result, Ethan had grown used to carrying condoms around at all times, aware he might need them at a moment’s notice.

“If you need
lubrifiant
—what do you call it, lubrication?—it’s in the top drawer of the nightstand.”

Of course they needed lube. Ethan didn’t just want them to be hot with desire for each other. They had to be slick and ready, too.

When he checked the drawer Jean-Luc had indicated, he found a whole armory of sex toys. Judging by the ropes and handcuffs that nestled alongside the vibrators and butt-plugs, this guy had a kinky side. All of Ethan’s lovers had been pretty much vanilla in their tastes—Boyd’s penchant for sex in public notwithstanding—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to experiment with the right guy. For now, though, the only thing he needed was the tub of thick lube designed for anal play, which lurked within easy reach.

“And now we have lift-off.” Ethan grinned as he showed his plunder to Jean-Luc. He unscrewed the lid to discover the pot was half-empty. Had Jean-Luc been using those big, cock-shaped dildos on himself? The image that thought conjured in his mind had Ethan growing even harder than before.

He fitted the condom then scooped out some of the lube, applying it generously to Jean-Luc’s hole. “Does that feel good?” he asked in response to Jean-Luc’s earthy groan. “D’you like it when I play with your arse?”

His lover murmured something Ethan didn’t understand but the tone of his response made it clear he liked what was being done to him.

He withdrew his fingers from the tight clasp of Jean-Luc’s rear passage then replaced them with the head of his condom-covered cock. “If it gets too much for you, tell me and I’ll pull back.”

“Your concern is truly touching,” Jean-Luc replied, “but I just need to be fucked, hard and deep.”

Ethan kissed the side of Jean-Luc’s neck then whispered into his ear, “Anything you say.”

With one firm shove he breached Jean-Luc’s muscular ring. Another push took him even deeper. The Frenchman growled, and Ethan, afraid of causing his lover discomfort, paused in his movements.

“
Merde
, don’t stop,” Jean-Luc begged him.

Eager to oblige, Ethan started to fuck Jean-Luc with slow strokes, thrusting till his sac slapped against the Frenchman’s taut butt before pulling out almost all the way. As his passion grew, his speed increased. The room filled with the scents of sweat, pre-cum and lube, and Jean-Luc groaned beneath him, humping his hips on the bedcovers in his excitement.

Ethan held on tight to Jean-Luc’s hips. His muscles tensed, his balls tightened. His release was mere moments away. Still he kept pounding Jean-Luc’s arse, lost in a place where nothing existed except his need to come.

Jean-Luc stiffened before letting out an almost bestial howl. Ethan had never been with a guy who made so much noise when he climaxed but figured the walls here were so thick, even if there’d been anyone close by, they wouldn’t hear a thing.

Spurred on by the sounds of his lover in the throes of ecstasy he gave one last, forceful thrust. His own orgasm hit him with the power of an express train. His world seemed to shatter into pieces and he could do nothing but cling to Jean-Luc’s body, calling out, “Oh, God, oh, yeah.”

Then he slumped on top of his lover, unable to do anything else as the last ripples of pleasure fluttered through him.

When he could finally move, he rolled to lie on his back beside Jean-Luc. Even though sleep beckoned him, he knew they still had a certain issue to resolve.