Any rant he had thought about slamming down on Marc’s head over the slip-up was lost. He was torturing himself enough already, torn up over the idea that someone in his family could be trying to kill him. Royce had yet to see anything redeeming or even affectionate from the trio, but it wasn’t his place to judge Marc’s family. Marc loved them. Trusted them. That was why he needed Royce protecting him.
“No,” he said evenly.
“But…”
Royce closed the distance between them to stand between Marc’s spread legs. He loved the brush of those slim, muscular thighs, wanted to feel them wrapped around his waist, but he pushed the thought aside. Wrapping one hand around the side of Marc’s neck, he forced the other man to look up and meet his gaze.
“I don’t think she poisoned it, but we have to be cautious at all times. We can’t afford to be careless.”
Marc nodded, exhaling heavily. “You’re right.”
“Has she done that before? Brought drinks for you?”
“Yes.”
“Is it normal for her to not get one for your other brother?”
“Gabriel rarely drinks. He’s a thoracic surgeon. He’s been called in at odd times for emergency surgery. Usually only drinks when he’s out of town on vacation.”
Slowly, Royce dragged his thumb along Marc’s jaw, watching as Marc’s pupils dilated and his breathing caught. They were alone. No need for the show, but Royce couldn’t release him, and Marc wasn’t pulling away.
“So, all your siblings are assholes. How did you escape?”
A half smile tugged up one corner of his mouth. “Don’t sell me short. I can be an asshole too.”
“I bet you can.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Royce saw Marc’s hands lift toward Royce, and then drop back down to the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly. “We should get back out there.”
“You’re still pale.” Royce’s thumb dragged back toward Marc’s chin, running just over the edge of his bottom lip. “We have to get some color in your cheeks. Convince your siblings that we were doing something other than arguing in here.”
“Oh…”
Sliding his hand up Marc’s neck into his hair, he fisted his fingers around the silky threads before diving in for a brutal kiss. Marc instantly parted his lips and moaned into Royce’s mouth. They’d kissed probably a dozen times in the past week, but it was always for an audience. Sweet, gentle kisses after that first fiery one. Some teasing and probing—but always pulling off before it went too far.
This was different. This time Royce was giving in to all the desire that had been building since he’d first set his eyes on Marc. With his free hand, he grabbed the side of Marc’s throat, holding him captive. His tongue plunged in again and again, claiming every inch of Marc’s mouth, his lips, each labored breath. He wanted everything he could get from this man.
As he slowly started to pull away, Marc’s hands came around and tightly clasped his ass, pulling him in so that they could grind their cocks against each other through the thin material of their slacks. Marc’s tongue chased after Royce’s, keeping the kiss going.
He wanted to keep the kiss going, tear off all of Marc’s clothes so he could bend him over the desk, but a shrill laugh cut through the relative silence of the office, reminding them that the outside world waited.
Royce broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead to Marc’s as they panted.
“We shouldn’t…have done that,” Marc whispered.
Royce straightened and took in Marc’s mussed hair, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks. He looked like he’d been thoroughly kissed and enjoyed every second of it. “Maybe. But it was a lot more fun to do it than to fake it.” Because he couldn’t stop himself, he reached out and ran this thumb over Marc’s lower lip. “You look like someone kissed the hell out of you. I hear that’s something that couples do.”
The laughter returned to Marc’s bright blue eyes. “That’s true.”
It was a struggle to step backward and put his hand on the doorknob. Royce would rather stay in the office and continue to explore the heat between them, but Marc had a show to run, and Royce needed to protect him. After giving Marc a minute to smooth his hand over his clothes and hair without undoing all their hard work, Royce opened the door and followed Marc back into the gallery.
They barely reached the main room when the fire alarm blasted through the gallery. Everyone winced and lifted their hands against the horrible noise.
Marc froze, looking just as stunned and confused as the rest of the gallery guests who were still standing around. There wasn’t any smoke or other indication of why the alarm had gone off. Royce clenched his teeth, taking a second to debate whether he should risk trying to get that alarm shut off so that Marc could remain in the safety of the gallery, or hustle him outside where he’d be safe from fire but vulnerable to other attack.