Question Mark (36 page)

Mark got busy tugging down Zane’s briefs as he opened his mouth for another soul-searing kiss and the next moment they were blessedly naked against one another. Skin on skin. Chest to chest. Thigh to thigh.

Mark twined his legs over Zane and their kiss became almost frantic as they rocked against each other. Zane’s dick pulsed and he knew it wouldn’t take much more for him to come. He was out of control as his tongue dueled with Mark’s. His flesh was on fire with the heat between them.

“Zane…”
Mark grunted.

He knew what Mark needed and he cursed himself, remembering he didn’t have anything with him. “I don’t have—”

Mark kissed him to silence and pointed at his bag. Zane had it in seconds and nearly destroyed the thing as he rifled through it to get what he wanted. He tore through the condom wrapper with his teeth and shivered as Mark took it from him and lowered it down over Zane’s hard, glinting erection. When Mark went to grab one for himself Zane pushed his hand away and took his mouth in such a fierce kiss he nearly came.

By the time their mouths parted again, Mark was writhing with desire, his jaw clenched against it. When Zane finally lowered himself over Mark, he was shaking and breathing impossibly hard. Their sweat mingled as Zane took him and with slow, steady thrusts brought them both to the point of oblivion.

When Mark came, his orgasm rocked them and in the final moments before Zane followed, he grabbed Mark’s jaw and stared into his eyes.
“Mine…forever…”
Mark turned his head and sucked Zane’s thumb into his mouth with a breathless moan.

The orgasm washed over Zane and he roared as he thrust through it. There were tears in his eyes as the delicate ties between them went taut.

Zane pinched his eyes shut and collapsed against Mark, rolling over and bringing his man with him. Mark held on so tightly there wasn’t any room left between them. It was as though Mark was in his bloodstream now and it was the first time Zane had ever been whole.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“You brought condoms?” Zane turned his head on the pillow he was sharing with Mark and cocked an eyebrow.

Mark chuckled and ran his hands up into his hair, shaking the short strands out until they were adorably puffy. “Hope springs eternal, I guess.”

“No doubt.” He rolled toward Mark and gathered him closer with an arm over his chest. “I like the way you think.”

“Yeah,” Mark smirked at him. “Sometimes you do.”

They locked gazes and soaked in one another’s presence, the quiet of the room surrounding them, making Zane feel like they were alone in the world. His eyes roved over Mark’s face, memorizing the contours. With his fingers, Zane traced along the bridge of Mark’s nose and down over his lips to press lightly on their pillowy surface. Zane lifted his head and laid his mouth on Mark’s for another taste. After a heady moment when their breathing picked up again, Zane pushed up, letting his weight rest on one elbow. Mark watched him silently.

Zane kissed him again as his hand snaked beneath the covers to run softly over Mark’s hip. “Hey…”

Mark cocked his head, waiting.

“I love you, Mark,” he whispered, never taking his eyes away.

Zane didn’t know what he expected Mark to do, but as his eyes filled and he wrapped his arms around Zane’s neck, his surprise was complete. The raw strength in that grip and the disbelieving light in Mark’s stare brought Zane’s emotions to the surface as well. His throat tightened and he couldn’t speak.

“…You, too,” Mark returned, his voice a shadow. “So much.”

They held each other for a long time until Zane settled them both back on the bed, Mark’s head now resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through the soft, short locks of Mark’s hair and tried not to ball in the midst of all this unexpected bliss.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark’s cheek moved against the muscle of Zane’s chest and he smiled.

“Of course. Anything.”

“I remember when you came out to the public, but had you already come out privately? To family or friends? You didn’t say so in that interview you did.”

“You watched my interview?” Zane sounded surprised and pleased.

“I caught it when you first did it, but I watched it again a couple weeks ago,” Mark admitted. “I’ve probably watched every video of you available on
YouTube
. I had a Zane Whitlow marathon.”

Zane shook his head. “Whew. Should I be worried about that?”

Mark scooted closer to him and sighed his no. Silence fell and Zane thought about Mark’s original question, remembering the stress of his coming out and worry of how he would be received. Coming out to the public had been so much worse than telling his mother and eventually his agent.

“My mom knew. I told her after my freshman year of college. Jenny and Leslie knew. And, of course, the couple of guys I dated back before I was well known.”

“How long did you know before you told your mom?”

Zane mumbled as he tried to do the math. He couldn’t recall having a “gay epiphany” when he realized he was into men. It was more like an awareness that became a solid
knowing
. He shook his head absently.

“I don’t know. I think it happened really gradually with me. I had some girlfriends—kissed, but never slept with any. Had no desire to do that. Never.
Not once
. That was sort of a glowing neon clue. I actively tried not to think about shit like guys versus girls. I kept myself really busy and exhausted myself so I wouldn’t have to confront the stuff waiting around in the back of my mind.

“I think that the summer after freshman year I finally sat down and let it all out from under lock and key. I had this roommate…”

“Ahhhh,” Mark said. “There’s always a roommate.”

“Did you have a roommate?” Zane asked, his head coming off of the pillow.

“Nah. No unrequited love for the guy in the next room. In fact, I couldn’t even stand my first roommates.”

“Well,
this
guy was straight, but he had this killer effect on me. When I realized it was a
crush
, that’s kind of when I had to stop fucking around and make some decisions for myself. He wasn’t even anything amazing, he just hit these trigger points in my brain or something. I never told him. God, even thinking of doing that still scares the hell out of me. The knowledge was still so fresh, then. I didn’t really want to christen the
U.S.S. GAY
with a confession of love for my very straight roomie.”

Mark cracked up against him and Zane gave him a squeeze, loving the intimacy of where they were and how they held one another. It had been so long since he’d experienced anything like this, and never quite this way.

“Was your mom wise to you?”

“Hell no!” Zane laughed. “I guess I had us both fooled. Posters of half-naked chicks on my walls did the trick. She kept patting my hand and asking, ‘Are you sure, Zane? You’re a gay?’”

“
‘A gay’
?” Mark shook against him, practically choking.

“She wasn’t up on the lingo. Though, she probably still goes to her book club meetings now and says,
‘Zane’s got a new gay in his life. Isn’t that sweet?’
It’s harmless really.”

“So she supported you. Took it pretty well?”

“We were in sort of a small town—she’s still there actually—and I think after the initial shock wore off, she was really worried about what would happen to me and how I’d be treated. It wasn’t such a big deal because I was going to school out of state and I’d like to think I can take care of myself, but a mom’s a mom. She didn’t want to have people being bigoted dicks about her son. I kept it a secret though—professionally. Chose guys very carefully because I never let getting sex take first priority. I’d have had all sorts of guys bribing me if I’d been promiscuous. Two of the guys I was with were in the closet, too. Also actors. They do mostly stage stuff now.”

Zane chuckled again and Mark arched his neck to sneak a peek at him in question. He said, “I think it was like three days after I told mom when she walked into my room and asked me if I had a type. I said, ‘Yeah. Men.’”

“Seriously? That’s all you said?”

Zane grinned. “I was coming to terms with it myself! I didn’t want to sit down and tell her I had a hard on for the manager of the grocery store or whatever. Weird. Still weird. We’re close, but she’s never met any of the guys I’ve dated. They haven’t been the type to allow it, and I guess I knew I didn’t want them to be the ones I was bringing home to her. To me, meeting her is a big deal.”

Mark made a noise that Zane thought sounded understanding. Zane knew his mom was dying to meet Mark—though he hadn’t been able to update her on their reconciliation yet. He wanted to make that introduction very badly… A first for him.

“Your family’s met at least one of your guys…” Zane said quietly, thinking of that picture up in Mark’s old room. His imagination—evil, vindictive thing that it was—mulled over Mark sleeping with that bastard there. He wasn’t just jealous for Mark in this situation either. The thought of that great family getting to know someone else and liking him made Zane restless.

Mark grunted, ignoring the tension in Zane’s comment. “I’ve only had a couple serious boyfriends and a lot of serious crushes that left me a big hot mess. The family only met Tim and Rafe.”

Zane groaned. “God… These names will never escape me. Hell.”

Mark pinched him playfully. “Cut it out,” he smiled against Zane’s skin. “I happen to know that my family loves you more than anyone I’ve ever been with and possibly more than they love me.”

Zane pulled Mark on top of him in one swift move and nipped at his jaw. “Impossible.”

Mark wriggled a little to brace himself on his forearms, his groin grazing Zane’s in a way that sent a white-hot bolt of energy up through Zane’s spine. He let out an involuntary grunt of pleasure.

“I’d like to meet your mom someday,” Mark said softly, plucking at a loose string on a pillowcase. “No pressure, though. Only when and if you’re ready.”

Zane’s heart pulled a Grinch and grew three sizes. “You’ll meet her as soon as I can arrange it,” Zane promised. “You two are the most important people in my life.”

Mark bit down on his bottom lip like the words were almost his undoing and buried his face against Zane’s neck, breathing shakily. “Shit. Zane… I-I just...” He lifted his head and kissed him, then showed him what he couldn’t say in a slow, thorough way.

***

An attack of nerves kept Mark in the shower five minutes longer than usual. He didn’t want to walk back out into that room and stick another wrench in the works when he and Zane were finally together again. He groaned in irritation, feeling like he always had to wrestle this internal coward before doing anything. Why couldn’t he be more like Reid right now—marching out to shoot his mouth off, knowing things would work out—or even like Sean who was too practical most of the time to give into anxiety?

Shutting off the water, he toweled off and stepped into a new pair of underwear. When he’d left Albuquerque, he’d been low on clean clothes so he was now stuck snapping the waist band of a pair of violently red bikini-cut briefs he hardly ever wore unless his dresser drawers were empty. He looked like he was wearing a Speedo and the flush that spread over his skin only made him feel more ridiculous. The underwear didn’t look bad, they just looked so
small
…and
red
. Everything was right there, like,
Hello, I’m Mark’s dick and these are his balls.
He had to start doing laundry more often.

Mark wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the steamy bathroom to find Zane at the desk in a pair of loose jogging pants, reading over his pages for tomorrow. He was snacking on the steamed vegetables delivered by room service; count on him to stick to his diet no matter what.

Zane glanced up and smiled before ducking back into his work. Mark breathed a sigh of relief that he could throw on some clothes without his siren underpants wailing the alarm. It was too late to take the damn things off completely and go commando.

Mark sifted through the debris of his bag left behind after Hurricane Zane tore it apart. He found the pants he wanted and moved quick, the towel nearly snapping as he threw it aside. The pants were up to his thighs when he heard a choked gasp from across the room.

“Hold up!”
Zane blurted and Mark froze, blushing a color that complimented his hot pants. He looked up in time to see Zane swing his chair around. “I had no
idea
you owned anything like
those
!”

“Come on! I was low on clothes when it came time to pack—”

“And thank God you were.” His words held a trace of humor, but Zane was eyeing him with boiling intent, his gaze moving up and down Mark’s body in a way that got a rise out of him—no pun intended—in spite of his discomfort.