Free Saying Goodbye by G.A. Hauser Page A

jaw.
    “No.”
    “No resentment over the Randy ordeal?”
    Mark grimaced. “Do not mention that again.”
    Steve knew it. “Then you are angry with me. You won’t let me make you come.”
    “Steven,” Mark said in a reproving voice. “Shall we argue at three a.m.? After my son just had a meltdown in Rome?”
    Steve sighed and snaked his arm around Mark, bringing Mark to l ie on top of his chest. He kissed Mark’s hair and cheek. “It must be overwhelming.”
    “He i s a wreck. They are working him terribly.”
    “Adam said they would.” Steve drew Mark’s hand to his cock, hinting he wanted Mark to play with him. Mark , of course, did. “Separates the men from the boys I guess.” Steve bent one knee, so Mark could also reach his ass and balls.
    “He’s a boy. Steven, you know , in every way, although Alexander has done so well, and is such a good lad, he’s a baby. He’s not a man.”
    “He misses his daddy.” Steve made Mark hold his cock tighter. Mark did, as if he realized, yes, Steve wanted to come.
    “He misses getting shagged by his captain.” Mark reached for the nightstand drawer and Steve ducked as Mark got a dab of lubrication for his hand job.
    “What do you miss?” Steve cupped Mark’s jaw as Mark began sliding his palm along Steve’s dick.
    “Nothing.” Mark flashed that fake model smile Steve knew well. “I have all I need.”
    Steve’s cock went soft at his thoughts. What he wanted Mark to say was, ‘ You .’ Of course Mark didn’t.
    Mark seemed to notice the trouble down below. He tilted his head. “Steven Jay gone soft?” Mark tried to make a joke. “Not possible.”
    Steve removed Mark’s hand from his cock and again looked over at the sleeping men. “You don’t miss our loving? The sex between you and me?” Steve lowered his voice even more, “You topping me?”
    Mark tried to physically turn away and avoid the topic.
    Steve gripped him and knew anything said too loudly would be overheard. “Come with me.”
    Mark gave him an annoyed glare.
    “You can’t sleep anyway.” Steve got off the bed and brought Mark with him to the bathroom, closing the door, turning on the light. Steve crossed his arms. “I hate that fucking shrink but when we get ba ck to LA we’re seeing him to air this out.”
    Mark washed his hand and then ran it through his hair, lookin g at himself in the mirror. “Air what out?”
    Steve grabbed Mark by his arms and pushed him against the door. “This shit with Randy . It’s killing you and its killing me . ”
    Mark cringed and turned away.
    “You can’t have sex with me anymore . ” Steve tried to keep his voice down but was struggling. “You think I can’t feel the difference? You think I don’t know you despise me?”
    Mark’s green eyes blazed with fury. “Never!”
    Steve blinked, not understanding.
    “Never would I despise you!” Mark bit back a sob. “Me! I am the filthy one!”
    As if a knife had passed through his chest , Steve died. He held Mark and squeezed him. “No … you are not. Oh, God. You’ re the saint. The father who loves his son like no other.”
    “I’m a vile whore.”
    Steve got the confirmation he dreaded. Randy had indeed fucked Mark. He felt as if he had been shot, but didn’t fall down. Steve released him, sick to his stomach. This was his fault. His and Billy’s mess. And Mark cleaned it up. Cleaned it up the best way he could. For Alex.
    For Alexander Mark Richfield to achieve greatness when his legacy, his deceased grandfather’s company, Richfield International, worth billions, was being handed down to Mark’s mother Leslie’s new family. The man she remarried, Harry Jenkins, gave the whole company to his son Luke and in turn, to Harry’s grandchildren.
    And yet, the money still had not been deposited from the sale of this retched estate into their account.
    Steve had spoken to both Leslie and Harry, been assured the money would be wired for Alex to their bank to be placed in an IRA.