Over-Exposure

Perfect Fit


Marc walked into the bedroom of the apartment above the studio, pulled the closet open and hung up the garment bag. He threw himself down on the bed, rolled over and looked at his reflection in the closet door mirrors. Exhaustion was written all across his features. Why did he always feel so tired after a fitting?

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he remembered convincing Colton to install mirrors on all the closet doors, creating a wall of mirrors. Colton had been a little hesitant at first, but when Marc told him what a huge turn on it was, seeing his reflection while Colton had his way with him, his lover couldn’t get them… and him… installed in the apartment fast enough.

He heard the door to the loft open. Colton had come home. Footsteps approached and then stopped. Marc looked down past his feet to find Colton leaning in the doorway, a quiet smile lighting up his face.

“Now that’s what I like to see! A hot man sprawled in my bed.”

Marc felt a smile spreading across his face. Colton could always improve his mood no matter how tired he was. Patting the mattress in front of him, Marc moved back to make room for Colton to sit next to him.

Colton sat down, toed off his shoes and leaned back against Marc with a deep sigh. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Marc curled around the body of his lover, resting his cheek on Colton’s thigh. Fingers combed absently through his hair, calming them both. “Mmmm…”

“Rough day?”

“Fittings all day long. New designer wants a portfolio using my name to give him a boost. Turns out the tat caught his attention. Some of his designs are ‘enhanced’ by it. ”

“Is the shoot going to be at a local studio?”

“No, he’s booked a ‘quaint little B & B’ for it. Wants the contrast with the ‘edgy’ look he’s going for,” Marc did a credible job of sounding snobby and British.

“That wouldn’t happen to be The Carriage House, would it?”

“Yeah… That’s the one.” Since when had Colton become a mind reader?

Obviously seeing the confusion that Marc was feeling on his face, Colton chuckled. “I’m only asking because I was offered a shoot there next week. Seems the photographer they had booked tore his ACL and won’t be available for weeks.”

“Did you accept?” Marc winced and rubbed his knee in sympathy. He knew a model who had to give up his career because he’d torn the ligament and couldn’t pose for extended periods of time, much less do runway work.

“I will now. It’s a three day shoot and there’s no way I would pass up the chance to try out all those beds with you!”

“You perv!” Marc chuckled as his face was shoved into Colton’s crotch. He nipped the thigh under his cheek in retaliation and earned a smack on his ass. From there it devolved into an impromptu wrestling match.

When Colton finally relented and flopped down next to him, Marc was laughing so hard his sides hurt, and he could barely breathe. They lay there in a companionable silence as Marc’s breathing slowed.

“I’ve got to go in and sign my contract tomorrow. Want to come with me to sign yours?”

Colton looked startled, “You haven’t already signed one?”

“No, they wanted to make sure that I was the right size first. It’s a fit modeling gig.”

“No wonder you’re exhausted. Had to try on every piece?”

“Yeah, he wanted to see how the tat looked with everything, too.” His exaggerated sigh lifted the hair off his forehead.

“Poor baby…” Colton leaned back as Marc took a playful swing at him. “Yeah, I’ll come with you tomorrow. Might make things easier if they know we are together.”

Marc paused thoughtfully before nodding.

“Now I’ll go throw something together for dinner. I’ll get you when it’s done.”


When Colton returned, not surprisingly Marc was already asleep. He worked the barely conscious man out of his clothes and tucked his lover into bed, brushing a kiss across his brow. Because tomorrow was going to be an early day, he might as well eat and then join him.

The golden sunlight pouring in through the sky light woke him before the alarm. Glancing at the clock revealed Colton still had a half hour before they had to get up. Hitting his internal snooze button, he burrowed back into Marc’s arms. His lover shifted with a sleepy grunt and his arms tightened around him.

Muttering something that Colton couldn’t quite make out, Marc nuzzled his hair. Colton began to think that snoozing wasn’t going to be an option as hands wandered aimlessly down his back. He was just as happy to spend his time in bed with Marc awake.

Still mumbling, Marc started making little random movements of his hips, the hard line of his cock pressing into Colton and just beginning to leak. Colton doubted Marc was awake yet, but felt maybe he could do something to remedy the situation.

Rolling onto Marc, he sought his plump lips and pressed their cocks together. Marc gasped and his eyelids fluttered open, his eyes were still hazy with sleep but heat came rushing in. He wrapped his arms around Colton and started rocking with him, his tongue thrusting back in time with his hips.

Colton would have preferred to drag it out, but knew they were up against a time limit so he picked up the pace until they were both grunting and spilling their seed. He lowered himself onto Marc and whispered, “Good morning,” into his ear.

He got a breathy, “Morning,” in reply and little kisses on his neck interspersed with soft gasps for air. He moved next to Marc before he got any “too heavy” comments. With his head on Marc’s shoulder, his gaze followed his fingers as they trailed through the mess on his lover’s belly down to tangle in the carefully groomed nest of curls. He was glad that Marc hadn’t gone back to the bare look, prepubescent really wasn’t his thing.

With one last kiss, Colton regretfully rose and headed for the shower. A low whistle filled the air and he used his sexiest saunter as he went. A chuckle and his lover followed closely on his heels.


The designer’s secretary looked up as Colton followed Marc into the suite in the garment district. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, we have an appointment. Colton Black and Marc.”

Puzzled, she glanced at her computer screen. “I didn’t realize that you would be coming, Mr. Black.”

Colton could hear the question in her voice. “I’m here to accept the photography fill-in slot.”

“Right this way, gentlemen. I’m Sterling Smyth.”

Marc’s impression had been scarily close to the reality. The designer was a dapper man who obviously went to great lengths with his wardrobe. Maybe to compensate for his characteristic British teeth , Colton thought uncharitably. He wasn’t sure what about the designer set him on edge, but he had disliked the man almost immediately.

“Marc and… Mr. Black, was it?”

“Colton Black, photographer.” He caught the way Smyth tried to create some distance between them with that one comment. No, he didn’t think he was going to like Mr. Smyth.

“If you will come over here,” the designer motioned towards his desk, “we can get those contracts signed.”

Colton didn’t care for the man, but he wasn’t going to let that interfere with a job. Egos were just one of the hazards in this line of work. He wasn’t going to negatively impact Marc’s chances by letting his thoughts show.

He glanced over the contract, making sure that all the usual points were covered and there were no surprises before he signed. Marc was taking longer to look his over, probably because it seemed to be a couple of pages longer and to contain more clauses. But once he reached the end, he wrote “Marc” on the professional name line and signed “Mark Taylor.” He paused and took a moment longer to write in his address. He had finally stopped using his old address when the lease ran out.

“Gentlemen, it will be a pleasure working with you next week.” Smyth rose and offered his hand to Colton, then Marc. Once again, Colton felt a ripple of distaste at the way the designer took Marc’s hand and didn’t seem inclined to release him.


Marc noticed that Colton was a little quiet on the drive home, but wasn’t sure what to attribute his uncharacteristic moodiness to. He had seemed upbeat all morning, but hadn’t said more than a handful of words since they had left Smyth’s office.

Colton swept into the studio like a force of nature; hardly slowing, he walked up to Bobbie. “Call Parker and tell him I won’t need him today. Then take your lunch.”

With a startled look at Marc, Bobbie grabbed his cell phone and left the studio.

Marc heard the lock engage and by the way Colton’s shoulders twitched, he must have as well. Since Colton didn’t storm over and unlock the door, Marc figured that he tacitly agreed with Bobbie’s assessment that others were not welcome right now.

Now to wait and see what Colton had been holding inside.

Colton paced back and forth a few times like a caged tiger. Marc watched the emotions on Colton’s face as concern was followed by anger. Colton seemed to have reached some decision, for he turned and walked toward Marc with a determined look on his face.

“I want you to be careful around Smyth. I don’t care for the way he acts towards you.”

“What?” Marc felt completely off balance at such a ridiculous statement.

“I just didn’t like the way he kept hold of your hand.”

“He was just shaking my hand, like he did yours.” Marc protested. Why would Colton even think such a thing?

“And yesterday… He was there during the entire fitting. Did he try anything then?”

“What do you mean? It was just a fitting! There were other people there.” Now Marc was getting annoyed.

“You said he wanted to see the tat. Did you show him the whole thing?”

“Of course not! What do you think I am?” He started for the stairs to the loft, then thought better of it. He unlocked the studio door and stormed off.


Colton stood there with his mouth hanging open. What the hell had just happened? He had just meant to warn Marc about the designer and somehow it had turned into impugning Marc’s honor. Surely he didn’t believe Marc would do something like that? He trusted him… But if he did, why had he said something like that?

He knew he had some insecurities about the age difference, but Smyth was hardly any younger. Besides his insecurities had no impact on what Marc might choose to do.

He needed to talk to Marc and explain what he really meant. Tell him that he hadn’t meant Marc to take it that way. He knew that, with all the wardrobe changes, models spent a lot of time half naked on the job. He had just intended to show Marc that Smyth could have been taking advantage of him without him even noticing. The last thing he wanted to do was imply that he thought Marc was a slut.


Marc stalked off down the sidewalk, fuming. What the fuck was that all about? He was a professional. There was no way in hell he would have done what Colton was implying. The whole using favors to get something might just have rankled so much because of the little stunt on the V-Star, but that was different. He wanted Colton and that seemed the only way to get him at the time. Now that he had Colton, was that little stunt going to cost him his happiness? Not if he had anything to say about it!

Right now he was just too damn pissed off to talk at all. He would have to cool down some first.

Almost as if on cue, his cell phone started to ring. He looked at the display. Colton. Big surprise there! But anything he said right now would only lead to an impressive explosion and the last thing he needed was to make it onto the cover of some tabloid right before this shoot. He turned the phone off.


Colton had taken the hint when Marc’s phone stopped ringing and the automated “not available” message started. Marc didn't want to talk to him for a while. So when he heard the loft door open well after midnight, he pretended to be asleep.

He could hear Marc moving around the bedroom, getting undressed. But when he got into bed and turned his back to Colton without even checking to see if he was awake, he knew it was going to be a long night.

Colton opened grainy eyes when the alarm went off. At some point, his brain had finally shut down and let him sleep. He reached for Marc only to find himself alone. So much for the faint little hope. Might as well get up and see if he was still in the apartment.

Judging by the evidence, Marc had at least eaten breakfast before leaving. He'd even considerately left a pot of coffee for Colton. Maybe his attempt to appear to be sleeping last night hadn’t been believed.

He was on edge all day, worrying about just what to say to Marc when he saw him that evening. Bobbie and Parker kept shooting each other significant looks, until Colton was nearly ready to tell them to just ask him about it already!

He finally gave in and sent Marc a text. I’m sorry, baby. Need to talk.

That night he made all of Marc’s favorites for dinner, cedar plank salmon, grilled asparagus and the little bits of bruschetta that he liked so much. He had decided against wine with the meal. They didn’t need any more misunderstandings cropping up.

The tight band around his chest eased a little when the door opened and Marc walked in.

“Long day, baby?”

“Not really,” Marc came and sat at the island in front of one of the plates.

He walked around the island and sat next to his lover. Might as well eat first, nothing good ever came out of low blood sugar. He had made the bruschetta for that very reason. They ate in silence and for the first time it was awkward.

Marc took their dishes to the sink before moving to the living room. Colton sat down and was even more relieved when Marc sat next to him instead of the other side of the sectional.

“I’m sorry, baby. I never meant to imply anything. I know you would never do anything like that. I just wanted you to be careful around him. I think his interest is more than just professional. And I got upset watching him act like that.”

“Ok... I’m sorry, too. I’m just a bit touchy on that subject. I will be careful, but you will be there so neither one of us should have anything to worry about.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just over reacted because I was jealous.”

“When you put it like that, it’s almost romantic.” The wry twist to Marc’s mouth was unmistakable.

Overwhelming relief rushed through Colton and he was knocked back as Marc threw himself into his arms, mouth slanting in for a passionate kiss. He barely got his arms around his lover before he found himself on his back, listening to the little needy sounds his lover was making. He'd been so worried about what he was going to say that he had completely forgotten about make-up sex.


Marc couldn’t believe how one day of avoiding Colton had affected him. He was desperate to have Colton buried in him, connected to him. Trying to unbutton Colton’s shirt while being kissed ardently had him so frustrated that he finally just yanked the shirt open with a growl. Buttons went flying everywhere. One part of his mind thought he might be getting a little carried away with the moment, but since it wasn’t the part in command, he didn’t stop.

The fate of his shirt didn’t seem to faze Colton. He worked Marc’s shirt over his head and reached for the button of his pants. Marc scrambled up and shimmied out of them in record time. Colton had scarcely gotten his own button fly opened.

Colton took one look at him standing there and opened his arms wide. Marc stepped forward into his embrace and sighed as those strong familiar arms wrapped around his waist. He clasped his hands behind Colton’s neck. Colton pressed a kiss to his belly and murmured, “You don’t know how much I missed this last night.”

Something lodged in Marc’s throat, making it difficult to breathe for a few heartbeats. “Me,too.”

“You smell good enough to eat, and I haven’t had dessert yet.”

The next thing Marc knew, he was braced across the corner of the sectional, his left knee on the cushion and the other draped across the back. Colton was kneeling on the floor, kissing the inside of his leg. His mouth left a wet trail along Marc’s inner thigh, sending ticklish shivers up and down his spine.

Then Colton settled back into the corner beneath him and licked the head of his cock. The warm tongue stroking over the head, dipping into the slit and probing under the crown was even better than he remembered. The teasing went on while Colton fondled his balls and stroked the soft skin behind them. Just when Marc felt he would die if things didn’t speed up soon, Colton stood up and removed his pants.

Marc watched in surprise as Colton walked over to the book shelves and removed a condom and some lube from what he had assumed was a decorative box. Had they always been in there?

He watched over his shoulder as Colton slipped his lubed fingers into him with very little resistance. He was so ready he didn’t want to wait. He pushed back until the digits brushed over his gland. With a shudder, he began to rock his hips, fucking himself on his lover’s fingers.

When the fingers withdrew, he stilled, knowing Colton’s cock would be taking their place. He’d been so wrapped up in what he was doing he hadn’t even heard the sound of the foil tearing. Colton was taking too long! At the first touch against his entrance, Marc pushed back until Colton was fully seated.

He could feel the moans getting ready to spill out of his mouth. All he needed was a little motion, and he would be flying. “Please…” The husky whisper was too sexy to be his.

Like a man possessed, Colton slid his hand under the leg on the back of the sectional, grabbed Marc’s hip with the other and proceeded to thrust as deeply as he could. His thighs slapping against Marc’s hard enough that Marc had to brace himself with both arms. He raised Marc’s right leg and hugged it to his chest, opening him wider and sliding even deeper inside. The head of his lover’s cock rubbed over his prostate on the thrust and the withdrawal, making it impossible to do anything other than drown in the pleasure pouring into him with each movement.

When he felt the rhythm change to short quick stabs, he managed to reach down and stroke himself. He was so close now he would take very little to blow. When Colton’s mouth closed on his shoulder like a tiger claiming his mate, Marc came. He clamped down on Colton as the cum kept pouring out of him in strand after pearly strand.

Colton dropped his leg and grabbed his hips as he thrust forward the last time, calling out Marc’s name as he came.


Colton looked with interest around the Bed & Breakfast. It could certainly be called quaint and had obviously been a carriage house in a former incarnation. The entire ground floor had been converted to a great room. The guest rooms were all above. A huge river-stone fireplace dominated one wall with several very comfortable looking seating areas. The kitchen housed a cast–iron, wood-burning stove and a matching river-rock hearth large enough to roast an entire pig. A large dining table occupied the area between.

He turned to help Parker and Bobbie bring in the equipment. There would be plenty of time to look around later. Marc was taking his luggage up to the room that had been assigned to him. Smyth had the room next to Marc's and Colton, Parker and Bobbie had the room across the hall. Not that he had any intention of crowding his crew by staying there.

Once the gear was all stowed, he roamed the lower floor with his light meter in hand. It didn't appear that he would have to use too many spots. The sunlight streaming through the numerous large windows was more than adequate for his needs.

He was already planning the sets when Smyth made his appearance and started pointing out things he wanted changed. Leaving him to Bobbie and Parker, he continued cataloging the available resources. There was a lot of natural lighting and good furniture to work with.

When he was done, he walked over to see what Smyth had in mind. He listened to what the designer was telling his crew before interjecting himself into the conversation. Bobbie flashed him a thankful look and eased out to do some errand. Parker looked hopefully after him, so Colton sent him on another errand.

He wasn't really happy to be left with Smyth, but there was no avoiding it. They had to layout tomorrow's shoot and arrange the sets. They spent the next hour doing just that while the dresser and Marc planned the wardrobe and wardrobe changes for the most efficient use of time.

He noticed the rapidly fading daylight as one of the support staff returned with dinner from the caterers. Time to take a break and pause for a working dinner. Dinner conversation centered on the goals for the following day.

With a final pointed glance at the grandfather clock, Smyth rose. "I don't know about the rest of you, but we have a long day tomorrow and an early start, so I'm off to bed."

In Colton's opinion, Smyth's gaze rested overlong on his model.

Things broke up after that; Parker, Bobbie, Marc and Colton headed to their rooms and the rest of the crew departed for the nearby hotel. Except for the wardrobe manager who went up to have a final pow-wow with Smyth.

Colton stopped in his room just long enough to get his duffle and take it to Marc's room. He locked the door behind him and slid his arms around his lover. "You know how hard it was to keep my hands off you all day?"

"Yeah," Marc chuckled, "actually I do! Now strip and we’ll fix that."

“I like the way you think.”

Neither one wasted any time disrobing. Colton had plans for the cock jutting proudly up towards his lover’s navel. Taking Marc’s hand he led him to the bed. Settling back against the pillows, Colton urged his model to straddle his shoulders facing away from him.

Marc leaned forward, encircled his arms around Colton’s thighs and proceeded to swallow his cock. His automatic gasp was lost as he pulled Marc’s hips back and sucked on his lover’s straining cock. He gave a couple of tugs on Marc’s hips to let him know it was okay to move, then opened his throat to take as much as Marc chose to give him.

The model’s slim hips moved carefully at first. His groans vibrating along Colton’s length, making his balls draw tight with anticipation. But when Colton sank a saliva slick finger into his fluttering opening, the moan that escaped him warned Colton to prepare for a wild time.

Marc’s cock was soon plunging deep into his mouth, not stopping until he pressed flush with Colton’s lips. When he rocked back he impaled himself on the finger stroking the gland inside him. Colton could feel Marc trying to suck his cock while fucking his face and himself, but fairly quickly he was reduced to moaning on the cock in his mouth.

Even before he came, Marc had his face pressed in Colton’s groin, his hand now trying to stroke Colton’s cock in a rather disjointed fashion. He shoved his cock as deep into Colton’s mouth as he could and came with a bitten-off cry. Colton gulped the biter flood that filled his mouth with every pulse of his lover’s cock.

Marc fell next to him, breathing in great ragged gasps, his hand still moving as if his brain was no longer in control. Colton gently dislodged his hand and replaced it with his own. A few strokes were all that were necessary for him to spill his load. Wiping his hand on the sheets, he pulled Marc under the blankets with him.

Colton ran his fingers through the exhausted young man’s hair as he listened to Marc’s breathing even out with sleep. He was just starting to drift off himself when he heard the wardrobe manager leaving. A few moments later a quite knock and a rattle of the door knob was followed by a low voice calling, “Marc?” Anger flared; the accent was unmistakable.


In the morning, Colton was the first one down. The freshly brewed coffee smelled exquisite. Their host was in the kitchen, stoking the wood-burning stove, obviously intending to actually cook their breakfast on the antique. Intrigued, he sat at the table, nursing his mug and learning the finer points of kindling a fire. While the fire burned down to a nice bed of embers, the host started a cheery blaze in both fireplaces to take the edge off the autumn morning air.

Slowly the other members of the shoot began filtering in, as if the scent of breakfast had the magical ability to draw even the most confirmed lie-abed from their haven.

Since the fire was already burning, they decided to do those shots first. Bobbie and Parker set things up to Colton’s satisfaction with occasional changes from Smyth.

Meanwhile the hair-stylist and the make-up artist were busily creating the look that Smyth had in mind for Marc, hair artfully disarrayed, a touch of eyeliner and some glitter applied to the tattoo. The clothing rack stood close by with the outfits carefully arranged in the order of the shots.

By the time Colton had the first set ready, his model was ready for business. Colton had to admit Marc looked hot in the low slung jeans and the button down shirt with only the center button done up, the tat showing in flashes as he moved. If he’d realized how good a gold chain looked on him, he would have gotten one a long time ago.

He snapped some unposed shots to catch the peek-a-boo tattoo as Marc strode up to the fireplace. He would go back later and zoom in on just the hip for himself.

Marc took his first pose, and Smyth repositioned the chain around his neck. Colton bit down on the surge of annoyance. It would be a long day if he let every little pose adjustment bother him.

When he looked through the viewfinder, he was pleased to see Marc positively glowed. He would perhaps be forgiven for thinking that was due to his presence alone.

It wasn’t until the next wardrobe change that he realized Marc was commando under the garments. He knew that wasn’t uncommon to ensure the clothing lay smoothly, but he suspected Smyth had insisted for a much less benign reason. He could feel his blood pressure going up.

Each wardrobe change had Smyth circling like a hawk. Throughout the shoot, Smyth repositioned and adjusted Marc’s wardrobe more than he thought was absolutely necessary. It had even reached the point where others were starting to take notice. Surely Smyth knew he and Marc were together? He must have noticed that the address on their contracts was the same.

Under other circumstances, Parker’s and Bobbie’s attempts at chaperoning would have been amusing, but right now Marc seemed to appreciate their help as much as Colton did.

Thankful that the nearly silent shutter allowed him to take photos without alerting Smyth, he snapped every inappropriate touch. He even got a few of Marc pushing Smyth’s hand away. Marc’s glow was fading under all the unwanted attention; the photos were still good, but not the same quality as before.

The wardrobe manager called Smyth over for some likely unnecessary last minute questions. Without Smyth constantly touching him, Marc was able to catch his breath and suddenly the glow was back. Colton took the opportunity to get some good shots without Smyth interfering.

Colton was having more and more difficulty maintaining a professional attitude. He… no, they shouldn’t have to put up with such ridiculously selfish behavior, but he didn’t want to cause trouble for Marc. Having a boyfriend with the reputation for causing trouble on shoots would not be good for Marc.


Marc couldn’t believe how well Colton was taking the designer’s almost constant come-ons. Especially after he had warned Marc about the guy’s intentions back when they first met him. Marc had reached the point where he was nearly ready to start a scene if that was what it would take to keep the guy off him. Over the course of one day, he developed an aversion to dapper, snobby little Brits. The accent alone was putting his teeth on edge.

Then of course there was Colton’s voice in the back of his mind chiming in with “I told you so” every so often. He knew his lover would never actually say the words, and there wasn’t even a trace of it in his expression, but the annoyance mixed with pity on his face was even worse. Marc was never so happy to call it a day.

After an entire day of being stared at and pawed, Marc was tired. He didn’t know if he could tolerate Smyth a moment longer without the flimsy excuse of pretending that everything was just what was to be expected on a shoot. If Smyth hit on him one more time, he wasn’t confidant he wouldn’t do something he might regret later. Although the thought of his fist imbedded in the designer’s face did have a certain ascetic appeal to it…

He stayed as close to Colton as he could for the rest of the evening. He didn’t even try to be subtle about it. His reputation was either going to take a beating from the way Smyth had already behaved or would be totally unaffected by this shoot. He hoped Smyth’s people would be too embarrassed to say much.

Not wanting to give Smyth a chance to catch him alone, Marc waited until they could go up to his room together. Colton stripped down to his boxers, but Marc sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his on. After going without them all day under Smyth’s gaze, he found himself wanting the comfort and safety the clothing offered.

He opened his arms and Colton stepped between his knees. He leaned forward, hugged him around the waist and rested his cheek on his lover’s belly. Colton’s arms settled on his shoulders and the fingers of one hand combed through his hair and then down to massage his tense neck. He inhaled the warm musky scent of the man he loved with a tired little sigh. He had needed this all day.

A quiet knock sounded, and before he could say anything, Smyth opened the door. Marc glared at the startled expression on the Brit’s face. Colton turned to the door, and Marc could feel him tensing.

“Leave. Now.” Colton said in a voice dripping with ice.

There was a moment of shocked silence and then the door hurriedly closed. Marc released a pent up breath and sagged against his lover’s warmth.

In a voice only slightly warmer, Colton growled, “I’ve wanted to say something to him all day.”

Marc only nodded and tightened his arms. He wasn’t ready to let go of his refuge just yet. He was so tired, but he just couldn’t relax and doubted he would be able to sleep. He finally allowed Colton to coax him into bed.

He lay in his lover’s arms, on edge and unable to unwind. Just thinking of another day with Smyth was unbearable. He could only hope the designer would leave him alone now he knew about them. But he feared he would try to use it against them.


Colton could tell that Marc was too wound up to sleep. He ran his fingers through his lover’s hair and massaged the knot at the base of his skull. Marc was still just a bundle of nerves. It became apparent that the situation wasn’t going to improve without some intervention. So even though he knew Marc was exhausted, he slid a hand down between them and started stroking Marc’s cock. Marc whimpered and shifted his hips.

Leaning over him , Marc sealed their lips together, slipped his tongue into Colton’s mouth and fed him one whimper after another. He didn’t seem to be able to stop as Colton worked them both out of their boxers and into his hand.

He didn’t try to prolong it or make it anything other than a simple release of tension. He stroked both cocks at a frenzied pace and let Marc control the kiss. They raced to orgasm with a flurry of uncoordinated thrusts and came to a stuttering halt once their peak swept over them. Colton could feel the body in his arms going slack as Marc’s breathing slowed and became shallow with sleep. He didn’t take long to join him.


Surprisingly, the rest of the shoot went without a hitch. Smyth was very professional and nothing unpleasant happened. They even parted on good terms. Colton wondered how much was due to Parker and Bobbie quietly letting some of the designer’s employees know there was photographic evidence if they should ever need any.

He didn’t really care why. He was just happy to be finally stowing the last of their gear and more importantly Marc in his Escalade. Soon they would be on their way home.

A cute girl broke away from the designer’s group. “Nathan, wait.”

Parker looked embarrassed as she handed him a slip of paper, most likely with a phone number or email address on it based on his expression. Or maybe the embarrassment was over his name. Hard to tell with him. At least teasing him about it would provide some much needed levity on the drive home and hopefully divert the conversation away from everything else.

Marc trailed a hand over Colton’s shoulders on his way to the passenger door and said, “Let’s go home.”

With a happy grin, Colton got behind the wheel. Didn’t Marc know he was Colton’s home?