Chapter 1: Sunbathing and Sights
The sun was a heavy, white coin in the sky, pressing its heat into the white marble of the villa’s pool deck. Julian stretched, a long, lazy arc of his body that made the tendons in his abdomen stand in sharp relief. His skin, already fair, was going pink at the edges. He liked the sting.
He tipped more coconut oil into his palm, the scent briefly cutting through the perfume of jasmine and chlorine. He smoothed it over his chest, his touch deliberately slow, circling a nipple until it peaked tight and ruddy against his skin. His fingers trailed down, over the defined ridges of his stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of the tiny white speedo. The fabric was barely a suggestion, translucent where it clung to the curve of his ass. He knew what it looked like. He’d bought it for that reason.
A shadow fell across his closed eyelids. Not a cloud. Something denser.
He smiled without opening his eyes. “I can feel you staring, neighbor. It’s rude.”
“Is it?”
The voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder over the hills. Julian opened his eyes, shading them with a hand. Marcus stood at the wrought-iron fence that separated the villa’s curated paradise from the wild, grassy slope of his own property. He was breathing hard, shirtless, sweat making the sun-kissed olive skin of his torso gleam. His running shorts were dark with moisture, clinging to thighs that were thick as tree trunks. Every muscle was defined, not for show, but for use.
“You just get back from conquering a mountain?” Julian asked, letting his gaze wander.
“Five miles.” Marcus’s eyes weren’t on Julian’s face. They were tracing the path of the oil, down to where Julian’s hand had stopped. “Silas home?”
“Dubai. Until Sunday.” Julian let the information hang, ripe. He drew his hand back out of his waistband, making a show of inspecting his own glossy fingertips. “Why? You need to borrow a cup of sugar?”
A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Marcus’s mouth. His chest rose and fell steadily. “Maybe.”
Julian rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. The move arched his back, presenting the round, perfect globes of his ass, barely contained by the white fabric. He knew the view was obscene. He could feel the seams digging in.
He could feel the seams digging in.
Marcus’s gaze was a physical weight. Julian heard the soft clink of the gate latch. Running shoes, crunched on the gravel path that wound between the properties. He didn’t turn. He listened to the footsteps approach, stop at the edge of his lounger. The shadow now covered him completely, a sudden coolness that made his skin prickle.
“He pays for all this,” Marcus said. His voice was closer, deeper.
“Obviously.” Julian shifted, the movement making the speedo ride up. “The villa, the car, the credit card. He’s very generous with things that don’t cost him any effort.”
“And what does it cost you?”
Julian finally looked over his shoulder. Marcus was standing right there, close enough to touch. Sweat beaded in the hollow of his throat. Julian had an impulse to lick it. “My company. When he’s in town. Which isn’t often.”
Marcus nodded slowly, his dark eyes scanning Julian’s face, then drifting back down his body. “The age difference is staggering. What’s the real deal with him?”
“The deal?” Julian rolled onto his side, propping his head up on an elbow. He was being watched by a predator, and the thrill was electric. “He’s lonely, rich, and likes having something beautiful on his arm and in his bed. I’m young, broke, and like not having student loans. It’s a transaction. He’s not cruel. He’s just… old. In every way that matters.”
He said it plainly, no self-pity, just facts. It was liberating.
“And you?” Julian asked, reaching out to tap a fingertip against the solid muscle of Marcus’s calf. It was like poking granite. “What’s your deal? Former athlete turned hermit? I see you over there, lifting ridiculous amounts of metal, staring over here.”
“Trainer. I work with clients online. The hermit part is by choice.” Marcus didn’t move away from the touch. “It’s quiet.”
“It looks lonely.” Julian’s finger traced a pointless pattern on Marcus’s skin. “All that strength, no one to appreciate it.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened. His eyes held Julian’s, unblinking. “Does he? Appreciate it? Can a man like that even satisfy what you need?”
The question hung in the humid air, blunt and heavy.
Julian’s breath hitched. He held Marcus’s gaze, letting the truth spill out. “No. It’s like… being served a lukewarm glass of water when you’re dying of thirst. He’s careful. Routine. He thinks my noises are for him, but they’re just… frustration.” He licked his lips. “And to answer what you’re really asking… no, Marcus. I’m not into daddies. I’m into men.”
A low sound, almost a growl, vibrated in Marcus’s chest. The admission seemed to change the space between them, charging it.
Julian smiled then, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. He loved this moment, the tipping point where want became a visible ache. He swung his legs off the lounger and stood, stretching again, right in front of Marcus. He was close enough to smell the salt and heat on him.
“I should go in,” Julian said, his voice a feather-light taunt. “The sun is getting vicious. Thanks for the conversation, neighbor. It was… illuminating.”
He took a single step backward, then turned, giving Marcus one last, lingering view of what he was walking away from. He made sure his hips had a little extra swing as he crossed the marble toward the villa’s dark, cool interior.
He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He could feel Marcus’s eyes on him, a brand on his skin, all the way until the glass door slid shut behind him.