THE BUSINESS meeting had gone well, and he was just wrapping it up with a dinner with the CEO and CFO of the company and their wives. It was fancy and expensive and on their dime, which made it even better.
He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, though, when he got to fly home. It had been a short business trip as business trips went, but for once he was longing to be back at home. He imagined it had something to do with a certain little princess and her daddy.
His phone buzzed, indicating a text message. When he looked, it was from Eric. B. Someone is missing you. If you have time, call her? If not, see you tomorrow. E. He smiled. Josie was missing him.
Mrs. Abney leaned over and grinned. “That must be a good message.”
“It is, yeah. I need to make a call, though. I hope you can excuse me for a few minutes.”
She laughed and waved her hand. “Go on, the boys won’t even notice you’re gone now that they’re into the golf scores.”
He headed out to the vestibule and hung a right into the hall where the restrooms were. There was a little bench and a potted plant. He sat down and dialed home.
Eric answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, baby.”
“Oh, hey, Bee. I hope I didn’t bother you. She’s just really upset.”
“No, that’s fine. We were having a celebratory dinner. She really misses me that much?”
“She’s been asking about you all day. She’s scared you got taken.” Eric sighed.
“Oh, man. I guess there are repercussions from that, huh? Put her on.”
“Jo! Jo, Bee called for you.”
“Daddy Bee? Daddy Bee!” He could hear the shrieks of joy.
A warm feeling squeezed around his heart. He was grinning like a fool.
“Daddy Bee! Come home! Come home! Josie is waiting!”
He chuckled. “Hey, honey. I’m going to be home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrowday? P’omise? I miss you. We’s lonesome.”
God, she was cute. “I promise, honey. So your daddy is lonely, too?”
“Uh-huh. His belly hurts.”
“It does?” He frowned. “What happened? Did he do something to it?”
“I dunno. You want to hear a song?” She started singing.
He chuckled and sat back as her little voice regaled him. The song was random and tuneless and seemed to involve him and Eric and a kitten named Screwy or Louis or something.
He listened until she was done. “That was really nice, honey. I’m going to say good night now, since it’s probably time for you to get ready for bed. Can I speak to your daddy again?”
“Uh-huh. Love you, Daddy Bee. See you tomorrowday.”
“See you, honey.” Christ, that was sweet.
The phone changed hands, and then Eric’s voice sounded. “She’s all smiles. Thank you.”
“Hey, I’m smiling, too.” Grinning, in fact. And then he remembered why he’d wanted to speak to Eric. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong with your belly?”
“Jack called. The baby’s on the way. He’s tickled.”
“That’s nice.” Jack had what? Twelve kids? Thirteen? “What’s wrong with your belly?”
“Huh? Oh. My incisions are bruised from where they took the stitches out. They look gross.”
“Are you in pain?”
“It aches more than hurts. Itches. I. Brock, they haven’t found Tim McCarthy yet, but last night, his grandfather was attacked.”
“Shit. Do they think it was Tim?” He looked at his watch. He bet he could catch a flight home tonight if he cut the rest of this dinner short.
“I don’t know. I just don’t.” Eric’s voice lowered. “I kept Jo in today, just in case. You think I’m being a worrywart?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re not right. You let the security guys know, right?” He was definitely finding a flight back tonight.
“I did. I feel silly, but… I’m not strong enough to fight a hyped-up kid.”
“Nobody’s strong enough to fight a gun, baby. You let security protect you. I’ve got to go—I’ll see you tonight.”
“You mean tomorrow, love. Have a good night.” Eric was chuckling softly as the line went dead.
He only meant tomorrow if Eric was asleep when he got home.
He called up Stephanie, even as he made his way back to the table to make his apologies to his hosts.
IT WAS just past 1:00 a.m. when he finally got home.
Brock stepped off the elevator and nodded to Sergei, their night security guard, who offered him a tight smile.
“Any problems?”
“All quiet, sir.”
“Cool.” He opened the door and let himself in. The apartment was quiet but changed. There was a little jacket hanging from a doorknob. The hospital bed was there but empty. He peeked into Josie’s room, shaking his head at the sight of Eric there beside her, lying on the floor, sound asleep.
He went in and looked down at Josie for a long moment, smiled. Then he crouched next to Eric, hand going to one shoulder to gently wake him.
Eric’s eyes fluttered open. “I. Bee?”
“Who were you expecting?”
“No one. No one at all. Is everything okay?’
“Yeah, it’s all good. Come on to bed.”
He helped Eric up, and they headed into the bedroom, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He helped Eric into bed and then stripped down to his boxers and slid beneath the covers.
“You have a good trip?” Eric stared at him.
He found himself turning onto his side so he could see Eric’s face comfortably. “Yeah, it went well.”
“Cool. Jo was pretty good, until tonight. I talked to my principal, Charles. He has me on leave for the rest of the school year.”
“That’s good. You’re going to need the time to recover, let alone anything else. What set Josie off tonight?”
“I think she was reading my stress, and she saw the bruises and incisions for the first time. That scared her.”
He reached out and slid Eric’s T-shirt up, wincing. “Wow, that’s…. Yeah.”
“Ugly, huh?” Eric sighed, hand sliding over the scars.
“It’s not pretty, baby, that’s for sure. I can only imagine what it must look like to Josie.”
Eric nodded and pulled his shirt down. “I’m like Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Only you’re actually alive.”
“He was alive, wasn’t he?” Eric grinned at him, winked.
“It’s one in the morning and I am not debating Mary Shelley with the English teacher, thank you very much.”
They used to, though. They used to stay up until all hours of the night talking about anything and everything—books, movies, plays, politics.
“Coward.” Eric chuckled, reached out and touched his cheek.
He smiled and nuzzled into the touch.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Eric murmured.
He chuckled at that. “You’re maybe a little biased. And possibly stoned. And you have this thing for Italian guys.” Some of the antipain drugs they had Eric on made him fairly loopy.
“No. No. You’re just… fuck, Brock.”
“That’s right, baby. I’m just Brock.”
“I want you to know, I’m sorry we broke up. I’m not sorry about Josie, I never will be, but I’m sorry we aren’t… us. Anymore.”
“Me, too. Don’t be surprised. There hasn’t been anyone since you.” Lots of fucking, no loving.
“No? I haven’t… I mean, I’m a single dad, you know?”
Brock chuckled. “Yeah, I can see how having a kid puts a crimp in your dating life.”
Eric muttered something he didn’t quite hear.
“What was that?”
“It doesn’t matter, man.” He thought he could feel the heat of Eric’s blush.
“It’s almost two in the morning, baby. That’s secrets-sharing time. Spill.”
“I wanted you, you know? If there were offers, they weren’t the right ones.”
He wasn’t surprised to hear there were offers. Eric was a catch, he knew that. “You deserve the best. So does that little girl.”
“I want you.”
“That’s those drugs talking again.”
Eric gave him a soft little smile, kissed his forehead. “Sleep well, Bee. You look tired.”
“So do you.” He reached up and stroked Eric’s cheek.
“I bet. Jo will be tickled to see you in the morning.”
“You’re going to rest, right? Sleep? I came home because I was worried about you guys.” He yawned, the travel starting to catch up with him.
“Uh-huh. Gonna watch you for a little while.”
Brock snorted, already half-asleep. “Watch me.” He snorted again.
“Yeah. I know. I’m stupid. Humor me.”
He reached out and patted Eric’s shoulder. “Sleep, baby.”
“You, too, Bee. You, too.”
THE ONLY warning he got was an excited squeal that half woke him from sleep, and then something small but heavy with pointy elbows and knees landed on his stomach. Brock groaned, arms going automatically to wrap around Josie even as his knees and shoulders drew up from the hit he’d taken.
He grunted something that might have been “Don’t do that” or “Good morning.” He wasn’t sure he cared which.
“Daddy Bee! My daddy Bee!” Kisses peppered his face, little hands on his cheeks.
He chuckled and blinked his eyes open, looking into Josie’s dark eyes really close up. “Hey, honey.”
“Good morning!” She laughed happily. “Missed you. Missed you so bad.”
He gave her a big hug. “I missed you, too. I didn’t know I could miss anyone as much as I missed you.” It was true, too. She was something special.
She started talking to him, telling him about this and that—he only understood about 70 percent, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that smile.
He reached out and found Eric’s hand, squeezed it.
Eric squeezed back, so warm and right there. “Hey, Jo.”
“Daddy! Daddy Bee home!”
“He is.” Eric chuckled and patted her back.
“I am. And I’m taking the day off. Do you think we should ask Daddy if he feels up to going out for pancakes?”
“Pancakies!”
He turned to smile at Eric. “Are you up to it?”
“Absolutely. Jo, go pick out clothes.”
She nodded and kissed his cheek, then toddled off.
“You’re sure, right? You’re not going to faint taking the elevator or anything?”
“I promise. No fainting. Besides, we have to stop in and see if there’s a new baby.”
“Okay, we’ll go, then.” At least to breakfast. He hoped security was in the mood for pancakes.
Eric nodded and slid out of bed, heading for the hallway. Jesus, the man had to have lost ten pounds, easy.
Brock slipped out of bed and stretched, scratching his belly. He headed for his bathroom and got under the hot water, groaning happily. His cock filled, swelling as he soaped himself up. Humming, he ran his hands over his balls, reached back to clean his ass. He rubbed his cock, enjoying the feeling.
God, it felt like he hadn’t just enjoyed touching himself in so goddamn long, enjoyed making himself hard and wanton. He leaned back against the tiles and licked his lips. Eyes closed, he worked himself nice and slowly. He could imagine Eric on his knees, that beautiful mouth open and swollen, begging for his prick. He’d never found anyone who loved sucking his cock the way Eric did.
Groaning, he tightened his grip on himself. Sucking him, tongue sliding on his shaft, teeth just threatening the tip. Fuck. Fuck, yeah. He worked himself faster, thumb on the tip like it was Eric’s teeth. Fuck, he loved that mouth. Loved to hear Eric moan as he pushed inside, spread his lover with his cock.
He began jerking his hips, pushing through his hand as if it was Eric’s mouth. Oh fuck. He wanted it. He wanted Eric, swallowing around him, needing him, hungry for him. He didn’t care that it had been nine years. He wanted Eric.
“Eric.” He whispered the name, coming over his hand.
“You okay, Bee?” Right there. Eric was right fucking there. “I heard you….”
Shit. “Fine.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”
“Okay.” He heard Eric’s deep inhalation.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“’Kay.” He heard the bathroom door open, then, “You still smell so good.”
Then the door closed.
Oh fuck.
His cock twitched.
He still wanted that man. Wanted him badly.
THE FOOD was good, and Josie was happily playing with the syrup on her plate. Brock wasn’t really paying much attention, though. He kept finding himself watching Eric. Eric was watching him right back, eyes warm and a little haunted and a lot hungry.
Shit, they couldn’t do this.
Eric was hurt.
Josie was right there, babbling away and making toast soldiers dance in the yolk.
It had been nine years.
And in those nine years he hadn’t seen anyone as good as Eric. He hadn’t fucked anyone as good as Eric, and he sure as hell hadn’t loved anyone like Eric. He was hard now, his food going cold on his plate in front of him.
“Are your waffles okay?”
Like Eric had touched his plate.
“Uh-huh.”
“Cool.”
Eric stared at him. He stared back, trying to remember why they’d split up. Eric had beautiful eyes—big and warm, clear. Brock swallowed, caught and not caring.
“It’s okay, Bee. We’ll figure it.” The words were soft, fond.
“You think we can?”
“One way or the other, yeah.” Eric smiled at him, and he thought the look was a little bittersweet. “No matter what, you’re still my hero.”
He snorted. He had money to throw around—he wasn’t sure that made him a hero. Not like Eric, who’d adopted a little girl and given her the world. All by himself.
“My daddy Bee,” Josie proclaimed, patting his hand.
“Yeah, honey, I guess I am.” He and Eric just had to figure out what, exactly, that meant.
Eric watched them, and Brock had to wonder if it hurt, having Josie love a stranger so much, so quickly. He reached out and touched Eric’s hand, stroked the back of it without even thinking.
Then a camera flash popped, a photographer appearing out of nowhere. “Mr. Vencenza, is it true your companion was Tim McCarthy’s first victim?”
Eric immediately grabbed Josie, keeping her close. Their security guard was there before Brock could open his mouth, pushing the photographer away with a growl.
Brock tossed some money down on the table and nodded to Jeff. They were getting the hell out of here.
“Come on, Jo. Let’s go home and see what Bee brought you from his business trip.” Eric reached for her, picking her up with a whimper. “Home. Straight home.”
He growled at Eric and muttered quietly, “Hand her over before you hurt yourself, you stubborn ass.” He took Josie from Eric and let Jeff run interference and led them out of the dinner.
The media were outside the restaurant in force, flashes going off, people shouting out Josie’s name.
She shivered, hid her face in his throat. “Daddy Bee?”
“It’s okay, Josie, you hold on tight to me, okay?” He shook his head as a microphone was pushed into his face. He had no comment for these vultures. Someone must have sold the tabloids the story or something for this to have ballooned this far.
Brock reached back for Eric’s arm, making sure he didn’t get left behind as they followed Jeff to the car.
“Jesus. They’re everywhere.” Eric grabbed his hand, moved with him.
“Don’t say anything.” They could take anything and twist it, throw up two or three words into a scandalous headline.
Eric nodded and then they were in the car, the Lexus silent once the door swung shut.
“Shit, I should have anticipated that.”
“Daddy Bee, look at all the peoples!” Josie stayed curled in his lap.
Eric was pale, lips tight.
“Yeah, there’s lots, isn’t there?” He patted Jeff on the shoulder. “Get us out of here, man.”
“Yes, sir. Home?”
“Yes, but not directly. If they don’t already know where that is, I don’t want to lead them right there.”
“It’s a pretty day, huh?” Eric smiled, the expression tight, tense. “We could have a drive. What do you say, Jo?”
She laughed, clapped. “Yes! A drive in the sun.”
He chuckled. Damn, she was resilient. He smiled at Eric over her head.
Eric winked, took a deep breath, and leaned back. “It’s been three weeks since I’ve been to my house.”
“You miss it?”
“Not really. There are things in it, I suppose. Clothes, my books, my guitar—my pillow. But home is where my family is.”
“I’m sorry. I never asked if there was anything we could get from there for you.”
Eric snorted, popped his arm with a fist. “Because you hadn’t done enough for me.”
“If you’re needing anything I can provide, then no. I wouldn’t be much of a hero otherwise, hmm?”
Eric’s hand rested on his arm, fingers moving in lazy circles.
It felt good. It did.
He was driving around in circles to escape the paparazzi with his ex-lover and a three-year-old and it felt good.
Who would have guessed?