Chapter 8

 

Sven froze for a moment as he watched Geoffrey slip out of his grip and dance toward the undulating crowd. He was supposed to stick right next to Geoffrey whenever he could, leaving his friends to back him up when Geoffrey needed a moment alone with a friend. But the dance floor. He’d have to be out there in the middle of the dance floor with Geoffrey if he was going to protect him.

Geoffrey moved in a sinuous, boneless fashion to the throbbing beat of the music. He was sex and temptation. Sven blinked and Geoffrey beckoned him closer with one finger. His mouth went dry. God, what was he doing with Geoffrey? And yet his feet moved, taking one step after another, while his mind still warred with his sense of self-preservation. He bumped and rubbed against numerous people, earning several looks while Geoffrey poured through slender openings as if he were made of water. He grabbed Sven’s hand, pulling him along. Sven’s fingers tightened around Geoffrey’s, not to stop him but to cling to him. This wasn’t his thing. He didn’t dance. Never danced. But holding on to Geoffrey made everything okay.

In the center of the floor, Geoffrey finally turned back to Sven and pulled him close, hands gripping his waist tight as he slithered closer. His hands drifted higher, sliding over his chest and across his shoulders. The air was suffocating, it was so hot, but everywhere Geoffrey touched, chills followed so that goose bumps dotted his skin. Blood rushed to his cock with every brush of Geoffrey’s stomach across his groin, leaving him aching and hard. He knew it was probably obvious he had an erection, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Geoffrey.

He’d wanted this. Wanted those wide blue eyes on him, Geoffrey’s body moving against his. He wanted to lift Geoffrey up so that he could wrap his legs around him while plunging his tongue into that too-smart mouth. Lately, he’d been little more than a tight knot of want and need where Geoffrey was concerned.

Sven wasn’t even dancing or trying to move to the music. He didn’t care. Geoffrey had his full attention. A drop of sweat fell from his hairline, tracing along the side of Geoffrey’s beautiful features. Without thinking, Sven lifted his hand to cup the side of his face and wipe the sweat away with his thumb.

And now that he’d finally given in and touched him, he couldn’t stop. He ran his thumb across his cheek, feeling the sharp cheekbones under his flesh. Geoffrey’s blue eyes narrowed with pleasure and his lips parted on a sigh that was lost to the music.

Slowly, Sven caressed his jaw, inching closer and closer to the mouth that haunted him. He was dying for a taste. To run his tongue along those plump lips and then slip inside. He wanted to nibble and suck on them. He wanted to feel them moving down his body and wrapping around his cock.

His thumb teased the edge of Geoffrey’s bottom lip before pressing into all that fleshy softness. The tip of Geoffrey’s tongue slid along the pad and Sven groaned. He swore he didn’t move, but his thumb was suddenly enveloped in the wet warmth of Geoffrey’s mouth. His nimble tongue caressed him before sucking him hard, hallowing his cheeks.

Grabbing his hip with his free hand, he pulled Geoffrey against him. Heat and need pulsed as Geoffrey continued to suck. He swore he could feel an echoing pass of his tongue over his dick. Bending his knees just a bit, he cupped Geoffrey’s ass with one hand so that he could grind his cock against his stomach, searching for some relief. His underwear was damp, he was leaking so damn bad.

Geoffrey bit down and he could feel vibrations of his answering groan. There was no missing Geoffrey’s hard cock pressed against the inside of his thigh. He pulled his thumb back so that he could run it over his lips before pushing it back inside his mouth, slowly fucking him with his thumb. At the same time, Geoffrey rocked his hips against Sven. Blue eyes were blown out, practically begging Sven to take him right there.

He squeezed Geoffrey’s ass, his fingers skimming along the seam between the cheeks.

Someone bumped into Sven hard, rocking him to the right, forcing him to move his feet to catch his balance, while tucking Geoffrey tighter against him to keep him safe. But to do that, he had to pull his thumb free of his mouth. It was like waking up from a dream. He blinked hard several times and looked around. People danced around them, completely oblivious to what was happening. There was a different song playing than what they’d been dancing to when Geoffrey lured him out onto the dance floor.

Oh, fuck! What was he doing? He had one hand all over Geoffrey’s ass and his thumb was still damp from where he’d been dipping it into his mouth. An answering throb from his cock reminded him that he’d been damn close to simply fucking him right there on the dance floor. He’d manhandled a client. He’d broken the company rules. And worse, he’d broken his own rules about doing anything with a smaller man.

Grabbing Geoffrey’s arm, he pulled him through the crowd to the edge of the dance floor where the gathering of people was a little thinner. As soon as they cleared the crowd, he spotted Royce. He gave a little jerk of his chin toward the back where the restrooms were located and the other bodyguard nodded. He hated leaving Geoffrey’s side, even for a second, but his head was spinning and he couldn’t keep Geoffrey safe if he couldn’t think clearly. Royce would step in and keep Geoffrey safe while he pulled his shit together.

“Stay,” he barked at Geoffrey and then marched toward the bathrooms.

 

 

 

###

What. The. Fuck.

Geoffrey thought everything had been going great. Hell, that dance had been better than great. It was the hottest damn thing he’d ever experienced. Sven seemed to be finally coming around, ready to give a little something a try and then that fucking asshole had bumped them. It was like Sven had woken up from a dream. That look of intense pleasure was wiped from his face to be replaced by something that looked a lot more like horror.

Geoffrey rubbed his suddenly tight stomach.

He hesitated on the edge of the dance floor, debating whether to chase after him, but he seemed so shaken by what had happened that Geoffrey let him go. Chasing him and confronting him in a crowded bathroom in a loud nightclub while trying to track down his stalker probably wasn’t the best decision.

He turned to look for the other bodyguards and stopped abruptly when screams erupted over the pounding music. He looked toward the dance floor to find people surging toward him in a massive wave. In an instant, he was engulfed in a mass of panicked people. The entire club seemed darker—as if something was blotting out the lights.

The main lights in the club flicked on in time to reveal huge clouds of blue and orange smoke filling the entire area. He’d seen this type of smoke before at the FC Cincinnati soccer game he’d attended earlier in the year at Nippert Stadium when members of the supporter groups set off smoke bombs to celebrate a goal. But that had been outside and the smoke quickly dispersed.

Now the smoke quickly filled the closed in building as people pummeled past him, spinning him one way and then another so that he could no longer be sure which way he was pointing. Swallowed in the mass of surging flesh and screams, he completely lost sight of his bodyguards.

He coughed, lifting his left hand to his face. Smoke and the thick smell of sulfur hung in the air, irritating his allergy asthma. He discovered as a child that he was severely allergic to mold, triggering an intense asthmatic reaction. The heavy smoke was irritating his airways, making it even harder to draw a breath. With the mold count so low that summer, he’d stopped carrying his damn inhaler and now he was fucked. He needed to get out of there.

Panic swelled in his chest. He gasped, blinking against the tears filling his eyes as he tried to spot the exit. What a stupid practical joke.

But it didn’t feel like a joke, and he needed to get the fuck out of there. He turned, hoping he was facing the front doors, when a hand came out of the smoke and latched on to his wrist. He jerked and twisted his arm, but his captor held tight and started pulling him deeper into darkness.

Geoffrey blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyes, but they just filled with tears as the smell of sulfur and other chemicals filled the air. He couldn’t see shit. The figure was taller than him, but he wore a dark-colored hoodie pulled up to cover his head and block his face from view. From just the build of the person, he was willing to say this was a man, but he couldn’t make out anything else.

“Sven!” he shouted. “Royce! Sven!” But his voice was little more than a raw croak. There was no way anyone heard him over the music that continued to play or the screams of the partyers.

He had to get away. Break free. Sven had to be out of the bathroom now after hearing the screams. Sven would be looking for him. Panicked and guilty. Oh God, Sven. This was his fault. He’d pushed Sven too far, made him run rather than hurt Geoffrey. The stalker must have been watching, waiting for a moment when Sven stepped away from Geoffrey…the moment when Geoffrey finally drove Sven away.

He had to get back to Sven.

Attempting to suck in a deep breath, he coughed and wheezed more, his head starting to spin. He dug his heels in, but his slick-soled shoes just slid across the floor, which was wet from spilled drinks. No damn traction to fight back against his kidnapper.

Swearing, he balled up his left fist and swung at the other person, aiming for where he thought the guy’s face must be. Pain exploded in his knuckles and shot down into his wrist as he connected with what had to be the guy’s shoulder. He thought he heard a muffled grunt, but his attacker didn’t speak, didn’t give away who he was.

Fingers tightened around his right wrist, threatening to crack bones, and Geoffrey let out a whimper in pain. This fucker was not taking him.

Leaning back so that he was pulling against the man’s hold with all his weight, he lifted his right leg while still sliding along on the edge of his left foot. He kicked out, aiming for where he thought the guy’s knee might be. Luck finally shined on him and he connected with the fucker’s knee, collapsing it.

The guy cried out and immediately released him. Geoffrey fell to the wet and sticky floor, pain exploding in his hip. He ignored it and shoved back to his feet. The front entrance was clogged with people, but he swore he’d seen additional doors back by the bathrooms…deeper into the smoke and darkness. Shoving his attacker back to the ground as he tried to rise, Geoffrey covered his mouth and nose as he dove into the smoke. Pain lanced through his shoulder then hip as he clipped tables and the corner of the wall as he stumbled blindly to the back of the building.

He slid his right hand along the wall until he finally reached cool, smooth metal. And a push bar. The freaking door outside! Geoffrey shoved it and glanced over his shoulder as light from the alley poured into the club, cutting partially through the smoke to reveal that the hooded figure was limping after him. He rushed forward, trying to drag more air into his starved lungs now that he was outside. Glancing up and down the alley, he silently cursed to find that he was alone. Anyone who had escaped this way had likely rushed around to the front of the building.

Shoving off one of the walls, he took two steps forward to head down the alley when the metal door slammed open, hitting the wall. The stalker rushed after Geoffrey, still limping but it wasn’t slowing him now nearly as much as Geoffrey would have preferred.

Fuck.

Geoffrey tried to run, but he was still struggling to breathe. The soles of his shoes slipped on the damp cobblestones, slowing him down even more. The attacker’s footsteps echoed off the high walls, pounding against him as he gained on him. Geoffrey ripped the metal lid off an old trash can as he passed. On his next step, he planted his foot and twisted around, swinging the lid in a wide arc to hammer down on his attacker’s head. The shitty aluminum crumpled under the impact, but it was enough to send the bastard into the wall to escape a second hit. He continued back down the alley, knocking over the trash can and anything else he passed in an effort to slow the stalker.

His lungs burned and his head swam. He couldn’t tell if the bastard was still following him without looking over his shoulder. There was only the pounding of his own heart in his ears. As he reached the corner of the building and turned toward the main street, he saw people gathered about dressed in clubbing garb. He wanted to cry with relief.

Something snagged the back of his shirt and jerked him off balance before he could get more than a few feet down the narrow alley between buildings. He slammed into a rough cinderblock wall. What little air in his lungs was knocked free. With his left hand, he tried to shove away from the wall. A fist came down from above, crashing into his cheek and sending him to his knees. Geoffrey groaned, his vision threatening to black out.

The stalker still said nothing as he grabbed Geoffrey roughly by the upper arm and tried to drag him back down the opposite direction. He wanted to scream, to cry out to the people just a short distance away, but his throat was raw from the damn smoke. They’d never hear him.

Reaching out to hook his fingers on the broken cobblestone, his fingers brushed against the sticky neck of an old beer bottle. He grabbed it and swung around, slamming it against the side of the fucker’s head. He’d hoped to hit his face, but the bottle shattered all the same. The man grunted and immediately released Geoffrey, falling backward.

Nearly sobbing, Geoffrey shoved back to his feet and ran down the alley, lurching out into the main street. People were gathered in little clusters in the empty street. He saw some people scratched and battered from their escape. Most faces were streaked with tears from eyes irritated by the smoke. Sirens echoed in the distance, but he couldn’t tell whether it was cop, fire, or ambulance. Probably all of the above.

He didn’t fucking care because he finally spotted Sven. He stood a short distance off, his hands tightly clenched in Royce’s T-shirt. His handsome face was twisted with panic and rage.

“Sven!” Geoffrey croaked, but it was loud enough to catch Sven’s attention.

He ran the short distance to his bodyguard and launched himself at the larger man. Sven didn’t hesitate—simply scooped him up into his strong arms so that Geoffrey could easily wrap his arms around his neck while wrapping his legs around his waist. Sven’s large hands came down on his body, holding him tight as he carried him a short distance away. It was only when Geoffrey felt the rough bit of brick against his back that he realized that Sven had darted down a nearby alley across the street from the club.

With his hands now free, Sven cupped both his cheeks and pulled back so that he could look over every inch of Geoffrey’s face. “Are you okay?” His eyes locked on to the spot on his cheek where the stalker had punched him, but Geoffrey didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m okay. I swear. I’m okay,” Geoffrey repeated, though he was now shaking uncontrollably. His voice was a low rasp, but he could finally drag in a few deep breaths now that he was safe in Sven’s arms again. He’d kill for his inhaler to open his airways up, but the bodyguard was a great stress reliever.

Sven slammed his mouth down over Geoffrey’s, and the world fell completely away. There were no sirens, no lingering acrid scent of smoke, or people talking just a few feet away. There was only the overwhelming heat of Sven’s mouth and his tongue as it slid deftly into his mouth. Geoffrey moaned, welcoming him. Sven laid claim to him like a raiding Viking horde landing on virgin soil. He let Sven possess him completely and he loved every damn second.

The kiss was everything he had dreamed it could be with Sven and so much more. Sven was commanding and powerful with each bold stroke, and then with a soft whimper of need from Geoffrey, he became gentle. So much passion wrapped up tightly inside of Sven just waiting to be unleashed.

And Geoffrey was ready to be the focus.

Someone close by cleared their throat once…twice…sigh, three times. Geoffrey chose to ignore it, but Sven finally heard the person and broke off the kiss. He paused, staring deep into Geoffrey’s eyes. His green eyes were wide and a little lost for a moment before he looked away from Geoffrey. Royce stood a couple of feet away, his arms folded over his chest and a smirk on his lips. Why couldn’t the other bodyguard have walked away?

“Dominic got Quinn to the SUV safely,” Royce said. “You need me to stick around?”

Sven shook his head, looking as if he was about to release the man when Geoffrey remembered his attacker. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten, but then Sven was a hell of a kisser.

“Someone grabbed me,” he quickly spit out, wincing as everything came out scratchy. Sven’s hands dropped to his back and waist, tightening as if he was afraid someone would rip him away. A deep warmth swelled and flowed through his veins at the feeling, but he tamped it down. He’d think on Sven’s reaction later.

“Who? Did you see him?” Both Sven and Royce questioned him at the same time.

Geoffrey shook his head and then cleared his throat before speaking again. “Too much smoke. He wore a dark hoodie and, I think, a mask. Taller than me. Never saw his face. Definitely a guy.”

None of it was much to go on. Most of the men in the club were taller than him and the person could have put the hoodie on at any point.

“Fuck,” Royce swore and paced a short distance away. “No sense in looking now—he’ll be long gone.”

Sven gently laid his finger to Geoffrey’s chin, turning his face left and then right, as if he were trying to catch the thin lamplight overhead to inspect his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Geoffrey gave a little shrug. “He hit me, but I hit him hard…with a trash can lid and a beer bottle.”

Now that they weren’t kissing anymore, previous pains were starting to make themselves known. His hip hurt like hell and the knuckles on his left hand throbbed like a motherfucker. He also had a feeling that his right arm was going to be bruised and he didn’t want to think about the bruise that was going to spread across his cheek, but considering what could have happened, it all seemed unimportant.

“Just a little bruised. Nothing serious.”

“I never should have left you.”

Geoffrey wanted to agree but for a totally different reason. “I’m fine. Shit happens. This wasn’t your fault.”

“I shouldn’t—”

Geoffrey grabbed two fistfuls of Sven’s long hair, twisting it in his fingers so that Sven couldn’t look away. “Stop! I’m safe.” He paused and gave Sven a flirty smile while tightening his legs around his waist. “In fact, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

The guilt and worry evaporated from Sven’s gaze as it dropped back down to his lips. Geoffrey’s tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. This was more like it.

“You should probably put him down so we can get out of here,” Royce broke in.

Sven jumped, his hands loosening so that Geoffrey was carefully put back on his feet. Geoffrey glared at the other bodyguard, pretty sure he’d never come to hate any individual quite so quickly as he hated Royce in that moment.

But this was for the best. He would get Sven home alone with him. Yeah, that was much better. They could continue what they started in private under much more comfortable conditions.

“Did Quinn get any pictures?” Geoffrey asked.

“A couple hundred, apparently,” Royce replied, leading the way back toward the lot where they’d parked the Ward Security SUVs. “Said he’d send you some to identify people for him once he gets them sorted and entered into the facial recognition database.”

Geoffrey followed behind Royce as the bodyguard took them away from the crowd still gathered near the nightclub. Colored smoke still poured out of the club, while people stood nearby talking and recording with their phones.

A cop car pulled up followed by a fire truck. He had a feeling that they should probably stick around in case the police wanted to ask them questions, but he didn’t feel like it. The police hadn’t taken his complaint seriously at the house and only started to consider that he might be telling the truth when his car was vandalized.

As he walked, he thought he spotted a few of his friends, but he was quick to put Sven’s larger body between them. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. He just wanted to go home with Sven.

“There’s a good chance that Quinn actually got a picture of the bastard,” Sven murmured. “If we’re lucky, we’ll have this figured out in the next couple of days.”

Geoffrey tightened his hands into fists as he walked. That sounded great, but it also created an ache in his chest. He wanted to have his life back but wasn’t ready for Sven to walk away. What a fucking mess.