Prologue
Dante
The guy wasn’t bad at giving head. And what he lacked in finesse, he more than made up for in eagerness. But the fact that I had to remind myself to start fucking his mouth was evidence enough that my head wasn’t in the game. I’d like to say that was because of the slight buzz I had going from the two glasses of champagne I’d downed in record time after the first one that I’d slowly sipped during the handful of toasts that had been given to the grooms, but lying to myself was just a waste of time.
No, there was only one reason I was so fucking distracted that even a halfway decent blowjob was doing nothing for me.
And that reason was wrapped up in a gorgeous 6’2 package of hard muscle, a lazy, killer smile and the most intense blue eyes I’d ever seen.
That reason also hated my fucking guts and had no problem reminding me of that every time he flashed those icy blues my way.
Did he have a reason to?
Okay, so maybe I’d enjoyed needling him just a little too much about how uptight he was, his advanced age - though at forty something, he wasn’t at all advanced – and the fact that he was a grandfather. Hell, the man didn’t look anything like any grandfather I’d ever seen.
I’d wanted him from the very first time I’d met him and since I was the kind of guy who was used to getting what he wanted, I hadn’t hesitated in letting him know that five minutes with me would change his entire outlook on life.
A little conceited? Yeah, I suppose. My mother had always told me I needed to think more before I spoke, but I found that most of the men and women I wanted found it more of a turn on when I told them what they wanted. And I never failed to follow through on the promise of pleasure. Whether it was a man or a woman or hell, more than one of either or both, I made sure all my partners got off and then some.
Leave them wanting more.
It was a good rule of thumb because it meant I never had to chase someone. They came to me and then they kept coming back until I decided I was done, which was nearly always the case after the first time.
Like the pretty little number voraciously sucking my dick.
I’d honed in on him from the moment I’d spied him working with the rest of the wait staff to get the hors d'oeuvres set up. He’d tried to ignore my not so subtle glances, but when he’d upended a tray of some strange-looking shrimp dish after I’d discreetly adjusted myself so that only he would see, I’d known it wouldn’t take much. After that, I’d just had to tease him mercilessly with hungry glances and the occasional playful touch as he’d repeatedly approached me with trays of appetizers I’d had no interest in eating. When I’d finally stroked my hand over his groin after he’d appeared at my side with a tray full of champagne flutes, he’d barely managed to hang on to it. All I’d had to do was tell him, “Upstairs bathroom” and he’d nodded so excitedly that he’d looked like a man who’d just won the fucking lottery.
So, the blowjob really should have been better. Or I should have at least been able to look down at the head of brown hair and not see dark hair heavily threaded with silver. I shouldn’t have been hoping I’d see gorgeous blue eyes looking up at me as my cock was being sucked to the back of a corded throat.
Fucking Magnus DuCane.
I’d met the man the day I’d been assigned to stand guard outside his grandson’s hospital room. Little Matty Travers had been undergoing chemotherapy treatment at the children’s hospital in Seattle and I’d been charged with protecting him after his father, Tate and my former colleague, Hawke, had run afoul of some drug dealers. Fortunately, there’d been no threat to the boy and while I would miss interacting with the kid, I was glad he was out of the hospital for good.
What I wouldn’t miss were the looks of disdain Magnus would shoot me every time he saw me. How the fuck was I supposed to know the man wasn’t gay or even bi?
Okay, so maybe I should have gotten the hint early on when I’d sent him a few flirtatious looks and he’d responded with obvious discomfort, but I’d sworn I’d seen something else in those stunning eyes of his, too. And since I’d been more than willing to let the guy use me to test what it would be like to fly his rainbow flag, I’d made sure to let him know that with the occasional touch or suggestion when he’d been leaving his grandson’s room. His response?