Fish & Chips
Page 12Zane chuckled, and it shook both of them this time. “So what do you think?”
“I"m more impressed with the rest of you,” Ty assured him with another smirk. He gave Zane a few slow strokes. He wanted Zane in him, and now. But more than that, he wanted Zane to want it enough to make a move.
Zane hissed quietly. “Doll….” His voice carried a warning tone.
“You"ll make me forget we"re supposed to be working.”
“We are working, remember?” Ty drawled as he continued to slide the tips of his fingers against Zane"s swimsuit.
Zane splayed his hand over Ty"s chest and started stroking up and down his sun-warmed skin, going a little lower each time. “And I"m wondering just how Corbin would decide between being smug and showing you off or being jealous and dragging you to bed away from prying eyes,” he said throatily.
Ty shifted his body against Zane suggestively. If they were getting up to head to the cabin any time soon, he wanted Zane just as turned on as he was. He might even be able to push him over the edge and get him to go rough on him. God, that was fun, watching Zane battle between control and wild passion. His fingers stroked along the hard ridge in Zane"s shorts.
“I vote for the bed,” Ty murmured with a smirk.
Without warning, Zane surged up out of the deck chair, practically lifting Ty to set him on his feet. He grabbed a towel in one hand and Ty"s wrist in the other and started stalking for the doors that would lead into the concourse of luxury cabins. Ty nearly stumbled, barely grabbing his sunglasses, and Zane"s grasp on his wrist was the only thing that kept him on his feet as he was dragged away from the pool. He bit his lip in anticipation of what might be coming and tried to look suitably chastised as he followed.
Zane pulled him inside, and the forced air spilled over them as they moved through the entryway and into the wide stairwell. Once they were around the corner, Zane swung Ty around with a growl and pinned him to the wall, his head narrowly missing a sprig of holiday cheer taped to the bulkhead. “You have any idea how close I was to tipping you back on that chair?” he growled, grinding his obvious hard-on against Ty"s thigh.
Ty tangled both hands in Zane"s hair and bit his lip again against the smile that threatened. “God, I love it when you do this,” he told Zane with relish, his voice a bare whisper as he tried to catch his breath.
“This?” Zane purred against Ty"s ear as he pressed his body against Ty"s from chest to thigh, heated bare skin catching and skipping instead of sliding. He deliberately dragged one hand down Ty"s side toward his shorts.
Ty shook his head, fighting the grin as he let his fingers slide down Zane"s face. “I believe you were growling,” he corrected. He wrapped his arms loosely around his lover"s neck and tilted his head up, silently requesting a kiss.
Zane"s response started as a hum in his chest and built to the requested growl as he dipped his chin and pushed his lips firmly against Ty"s just as his palm cupped behind Ty"s thigh to hitch him closer. If Ty didn"t know better, he"d think Zane planned to fuck him right there in the hallway. When Zane growled again, dropped the towel, and slid his other hand under the fabric of Ty"s shorts to cup his ass, Ty suddenly wasn"t so sure he really did know better.
Zane had just dragged his tongue along Ty"s lower lip when Ty heard someone very close by clear his throat. He jerked back in alarm as Zane"s hands abruptly tightened on him, and Ty banged the back of his head against the wall. It was a knee-jerk reaction to being caught Ty was pretty sure he"d never get over. He didn"t like being surprised.
A man stood in the middle of the corridor looking into the stairwell, watching them passively. It was the same man Ty had seen observing them outside. He was quite striking up close. His hair was dark and curly at the ends, cut just above his shoulders and slicked back, with hints of gray at the temples and along his hairline. His stylish goatee was carefully maintained, hiding the hard lines of his lips. He held his expensive sunglasses in his hand now as he looked at Ty and Zane in bemusement. His eyes were a deep mahogany, a beautiful color, but cold and emotionless. The steel gray bathing shorts he wore just intensified that effect.
“Can I help you?” Zane said, the sounds rumbling between put out and wary.
“Mr. Porter?” the man asked in heavily accented English. Ty couldn"t quite place the origin. Turkey, maybe. He wasn"t sure. What was obvious was that this had to be one of Corbin Porter"s contacts aboard the ship. And he definitely wasn"t Italian. That left Vartan Armen, the acquisitions specialist.
“I"m Corbin Porter,” Zane acknowledged. “You must be—”
“Vartan Armen, yes,” the man broke in. “Only the one telephone conversation more than a year ago does not give one much with which to draw a conclusion, I know.” Armen paused and looked Ty up and down. “I must admit, your… husband gave you away.”
Ty had to fight not to bristle at the man. He felt like a pit bull, his hackles rising because he didn"t like the scent of the man. He snorted at him as if amused. Zane must have picked up on the tension, though, because the hand on Ty"s shoulder began to rub soothingly. “He does attract attention, doesn"t he?” Zane said.
Armen gave Ty a polite look and nod. “Quite striking, indeed. I am aware we are not to meet until some days hence, but I feel all this cloak and dagger is quite cumbersome. We"re not here to hide from one another,” he said with a smile that seemed genuine. “My stateroom is 8520, if you wish to contact me before our scheduled activities coincide. I feel dinner and drinks would put us all more at ease before we convene any business.”
“I agree,” Zane answered as he nodded. “I"m sure it won"t throw our itinerary off too much to make a change.”
Armen gave a courteous nod. “Very good. I shall be in touch.”
Ty remained silent, practically vibrating with the desire to jump in and say something, dig for information, anything before the man left them. He remained silent though, feigning boredom as he looked away with a long sigh. He slid his sunglasses on as if preparing to return to the pool, and he looked back at Armen. With one push of his thumbnail to the inside of the frame, he activated the tiny camera inside the designer sunglasses. He stared at Armen just long enough to hope the camera got a clear shot, then pushed the button again and looked away.
“We"ll see you soon, Mr. Armen,” Zane said, a slight hint of closure clear in his tone.
“Until then, Mr. Porter,” Armen said. He nodded to Ty. “Mr.
Porter.” And then he was gone, through the doors to the promenade.
Ty stepped back slightly, letting his hands slide down and away from Zane"s body as he watched the man disappear. “He"s kind of slimy, huh?” he said, still using his accent for fear of losing it.
“Yes.” Zane watched the doors with narrowed eyes. “That"s a good description.”
“So much for sticking to our itineraries,” Ty murmured. But if Armen was advancing the schedule, perhaps this job would go faster than they"d anticipated. “But hey, now we know where he"s staying,”
Zane finally turned his chin and refocused his full attention on Ty.
“And we don"t need to worry about any meetings for the rest of the day,” he said with a ghost of a smile.
“Good, gives us time to contact the backup team, get some eyes and ears on this guy. I think I got a good picture, which means we"re already halfway done,” Ty answered distractedly as he peered at the doors and reached out for Zane again almost unconsciously. His hand met warm, firm skin as Zane took a step closer.
“Is that all?”
Ty looked at him with a twist of mischief on his lips. “And my accent is slipping,” he claimed as he moved closer to his partner, his fingers dragging against Zane"s skin as he wrapped his arms around his waist. “I think I"m going to need a little more practice before dinner.”
He pressed a kiss to Zane"s chin.
Zane"s lips quirked as his arms slid around Ty"s waist. “Who are you and what did you do with Ty Grady?” he asked under his breath.
Ty smiled and pulled himself closer, brushing his lips against Zane"s. “Don"t get used to it, darling,” he drawled, kissing Zane again languidly.
Zane"s low chuckle was practically a purr. “Then I"ll enjoy it while I"ve got it. C"mon, baby. Finish what you started out by the pool.”
THEY were in foul moods by the time their scheduled dinner came around, mostly because they"d discovered after getting to their cabin that their luggage included a whole lot of lubricant—flavored, scented, warming, desensitizing, stimulating, silicone, gel, and one tiny tube that Ty suspected had glow-in-the-dark and/or explosive properties—but not a single condom to be found.
Ty cursed himself again for not having foreseen that. Zane had gone to take a shower, muttering darkly after watching Ty go through all the luggage. Now Ty could hear things clinking and sliding and thumping on the marble vanity in the bathroom. When Zane stepped into the doorway, his hair was all slicked back, and he wore tailored black pants that rode low on his hips and a braided gold chain around his neck. Nothing else.
“Dinner had better be good,” he said in resignation. His mood had taken a hit with Armen"s appearance and had deteriorated all afternoon, capped off by them losing track of time. Now they didn"t even have time to make the evening interesting before dinner and let off some steam.
Ty looked at Zane blankly and shook his head, trying to see the humorous side of the situation. He failed miserably and grunted at his equally cranky partner. “I know the guy"s all kinds of classy, but you"re putting a shirt on, right, papi?” he asked wryly.
Zane stalked over to the wardrobe to rifle through the choices with an aggrieved sigh. He looked to be visibly wrangling with making himself relax.
Ty grunted in sympathy and scratched at his chin idly as he watched. “We"ll stop by one of the pharmacies and get some after dinner.”
Ty cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at his belligerent partner. He deserved to be cranky, but Ty didn"t deserve to be the target. Ty waffled between responding in kind and trying to defuse a possible argument. Fuck it. “Maybe you"re just not a good enough lay, and I"m cheating on you,” he posed finally.
Zane yanked a shirt off its hanger and turned around. “If I found you cheating on me, I"d beat you black and blue. And you"d get off on it,” he growled in Corbin"s voice.
Ty narrowed his eyes further and leaned forward. There had been a couple times now that he actually believed Zane as Corbin. This instance especially qualified. The line between them was easily blurred.
Ty didn"t particularly like this element of Zane"s transformation, possibly because it didn"t actually feel like a transformation. It was like there was a part of Zane somewhere in there really meant the things he said.
Now Zane steadily held his gaze as he pulled a shirt on. Zane"s eyes were deep brown, almost black, and not at all warm. Ty wasn"t at all intimidated, but he was annoyed just enough to want to deny Zane the fight he was angling for.
He smiled slyly. “You"re probably right.”
The icy scowl on Zane"s face thawed a little, as did the chill in his eyes, and one corner of his mouth curled up as he gave Ty a wink. “Of course I am.”
Ty rolled his eyes and stood. “You ready, cupcake?” he asked drolly.
“I"d feel better if I knew where our damn backup was,” Zane groused as he tucked in the black silk shirt. He"d left two buttons undone at the collar, and he looked slimmer, almost wiry, in the all-black ensemble, despite his six-foot-five frame and broad shoulders.
“What about weapons?” he asked as he strapped a narrow stiletto inside one wrist and buttoned the cuff.
“Well,” Ty started with a heavy sigh as he looked down at himself, “I don"t have anywhere to hide mine. But we can stash one or two more on you maybe.” He looked Zane up and down critically. It was relatively easy for a trained eye to spot a concealed weapon, and their main concern was being discovered as frauds. “I guess the real question is, would Corbin go packing, or should we hide it good enough to make it hard to get to?”
“Porter"s a thug. A smug one who"s careful, but he"s not paranoid. Too proud for that. I think he"d carry but have it well concealed for use in a pinch,” Zane said.
Ty couldn"t help the gleam that entered his eyes. “That means we have to be creative,” he said with a certain relish as he scanned over Zane"s body again.
“Creative,” Zane repeated, and he looked down at himself as he watched Ty study him. “Like… what? I already wear concealed knives.”
Ty smirked and cocked his head. “Inner thighs are good, right at the groin. Material"s always roomy, so it doesn"t show, but it"s uncomfortable as hell. Also hard to get to unless you feel like shooting off a round right next to your johnson. Lower back is probably the best place. Won"t impede movement, less noticeable, especially if you don"t take off the jacket,” he surmised as Zane pulled a black suit jacket out of the wardrobe. “We just need something to secure it. Other than stuffing it into your belt, of course.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">