Page 106 of Elite Connections: an LGBTQ Romance Charity Anthology

I’m hangingout by the pool, waiting for Matthew to get out of his meeting. Finally, his colleagues emerge from the conference room, but Matthew isn’t with them.

I feel twitchy because it’s been a few hours since I’ve touched Matthew and I’m craving it right now.

I’ve never felt addicted to someone before.

But these last few days feel like they’ve been an exercise in becoming hooked on Matthew because it appears Matthew and I simply can’t get enough of working off our animosity.

The only problem with the working-off-our-animosity theory?

It’s becoming harder and harder to remember the animosity between us.

Last night, we talked for hours. Maybe it’s because of our shared history, but I find it easier to talk to Matthew than anyone I’ve ever slept with.

A tightness winds inside me because I don’t want to think about what emotion has replaced the animosity between Matthew and me.

But the tight feeling unwinds the moment I see his dark hair emerge through the doors.

I stand up.

“Hey, sweet cheeks.” I greet him with a quick kiss.

Not to brag, but I’m rocking the fake-boyfriend thing. So many of Matthew’s colleagues have commented on how nauseatingly in love we are.

Some of the stress on Matthew’s face dissolves, and a grin takes over. “Hello, my rosebud.”

I wag my eyebrows. “You want to head back to the villa before lunch?”

“Most definitely.”

“Ah, young love,” Carl says as I grab Matthew’s hand.

I’m too busy tugging Matthew away to come up with a retort.

But once we’re inside the villa, I don’t jump him immediately like normal. Instead, I study his face.

“How did your meeting go?”

Matthew screws up his face. “It was okay.”

I know he’s lying. I fix him with a look. “What happened?”

He runs a hand through his hair and heaves a deep sigh. “Just more of the usual. I’m trying to sell my team on my vision for our five-year strategic plan, but certain team members seem determined to oppose me every step of the way.”

“Paul?” I guess.

“The one and only.”

“That guy is such a douchebag,” I say.

Matthew’s lips lift up in a small smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that term.”

“Well, it fits him, doesn’t it?”

“Totally and absolutely. Your linguistic skills are completely accurate in this instance.”

Matthew’s superior intellect was something he taunted me with growing up, so I don’t understand why it turns me on so much now.

Maybe it’s because I know how smart Matthew is, and the knowledge that such an advanced brain wants me is good for my ego?

Whatever the reason, Matthew standing there looking all nerdy-cute and using complex vocab really does it for my cock.

My face must give something away because Matthew’s eyes darken with lust.

But when he reaches for me, I take a step back.

A look of hurt crosses his face. “You don’t want to have a quickie?”

“I’d prefer you explain more about what Paul did that upset you,” I say.

He blinks at me for a few seconds. “I kind of want to forget about it right now. Maybe we could talk about it later?”

“Okay,” I agree.

“Because right now, I’ve got some better ideas of things we could be doing with our mouths.”

“You were always an ideas guy,” I say as Matthew pushes me back onto the bed.

And I feel the puff of Matthew’s laugh on me as he wrenches down my shorts and boxers.

It turns out Matthew’s great idea is for an epic sixty-nine session.

Hey, I’m not going to argue with a guy who has literally made millions of dollars from his mind.

After we’ve sucked each other off—in one of the hottest things ever because it appears it is physically impossible for Matthew and me to have sex that can be categorized anywhere below the level of sizzling—I lie with my arm around him, his head on my chest.

“We should get up soon, or we’ll miss the start of the treasure hunt,” I say.

“Mmm.” Matthew nuzzles into me.

I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of the strands under my fingertips. How can simply lying here with Matthew O’Conner in my arms fill me with such…happiness?

The thought catches me.

This is just two guys who have worked out they’re sexually compatible and, as part of that, have moved from hatred to a grudging like of each other.

I’m stupid to think it could be more than that, right?

I shift slightly.

“Come on, let’s go kick some ass in the treasure hunt,” I say.

“You seem mightily confident in our abilities,” Matthew says as we throw on some clothes.

“I’m a professional treasure hunter, haven’t I told you that?”

“No. You failed to mention that fact,” he says as he buttons his shirt.

“You and me can take on the world, baby.” The words slip out of me without thinking, and I cringe immediately, but Matthew just smiles.

* * *

Okay, we might not be up for world domination yet, but I still feel good about our chances as we stand around listening to the resort staff explain the rules of the treasure hunt. Each team will receive a pirate map of the island, and there’s a series of clues leading to varied challenges we have to do before we receive the next clue.

Combining my athletic skills with Matthew’s brain has worked for us in every other challenge so far.

Paul comes sidling up to us. I can’t help noticing the way Matthew stiffens.

“You guys looking forward to this?” Paul asks.

“Definitely,” I say.

“Just a heads-up, Annette and I are members of an orienteering club, so I think we’ve got your number in this activity.”

“Don’t write checks you can’t cash, old man,” I say.

Paul lifts a brow, but before he can say anything, the resort staff hands us our first clue.

Go to soar above the trees, where you’ll get a thrilling ride along the breeze.

My forehead creases. “What do they mean: a thrilling ride along the breeze?”

Matthew’s eyebrows knit together. “Isn’t there a zip-lining course somewhere?”

“I think I spotted a high-ropes course at the edge of the resort. It must be that.”

“Oh goody, a high ropes course. Just what I need.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask because, from his expression, it’s obvious something is very wrong.

“Uh…heights aren’t exactly my thing, remember?” he says.

Fuck. I do remember that. The memory of Matthew once freezing on the high diving board at our local pool comes back to me. If I remember correctly, I taunted him about it for months afterward.

“I’ll be right there next to you,” I say.

Matthew quirks an eyebrow. “Ready to push me off the edge?”

“I was thinking more that I’ll be there to catch you if you fall,” I say.

Matthew stands there, blinking at me like a bewildered owl. Shit. I replay my words, realizing how intense they sounded. I hide my embarrassment by studying the map.

“Looks like we’re heading east,” I say. “We better get going.”

I start off at a jog down the path. Matthew follows me.

We get briefly lost on the way, so when we arrive at the high-ropes course, Paul and Annette are already getting harnessed ahead of us.

Matthew looks up at the ropes high in the treetops, biting the inside of his cheeks.

“We’ve got this, my tulip,” I say.

A staff member gets us both in harnesses, and then we climb up the rope ladder and onto the platform. Before us is a swinging tire bridge that we have to navigate to get to the other side.

I lean forward to whisper in his ear. “Just look up, not down, and remember, I’m right behind you.”

He turns to me. “That’s right, you’re my personal Indiana Jones.”

“Hey, I could rock a young Harrison Ford. I’m pretty much Indiana Jones and Hans Solo combined.”

“If you were going to be any Star Wars character, you’d be Chewbacca,” Matthew says.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say about my personal grooming standards,” I say, and Matthew laughs.

Our conversation seems to have relaxed him, though, because he takes a deep breath and sets off across the tire bridge.

He makes it to the other side and throws me a triumphant smile.

Fuck. Even if I had a massive fear of heights myself, nothing would stop me from getting across to Matthew so I can high-five him.

I race across the tires.

“Told you that you could do it,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I’m still trying to get my mind around the idea of having Liam Jamieson as my personal cheer squad.”

I chuckle. “Not sure if I have the legs to be a cheerleader.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ve got the legs.”

The look he gives me is so sizzling that I have to remind myself we’re high up in the air and trying to beat the clock right now.

Matthew grows in confidence as we race around the course.

It’s not until we reach the final challenge, a high zipline from the top of a tall tower back down to the ground, that Matthew blanches. Because he can’t really use my just look up, not down mantra right now.

His whole body is rigid as he stares at the steep course the zipline takes as it plummets.

“Do you want to go individually or together?” the instructor asks.

“Together,” we reply simultaneously.

The instructor straps our harnesses together and snaps us into the zipline.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Matthew whispers, his face pale.

“Are you kidding me, Matthew? Surely the guy who masterminded framing me for the whole school play set debacle can handle a few obstacles suspended in the air.”

His eyes met mine. “But the school play set malfunction had the added incentive of getting you in trouble,” he says.

“Don’t forget, I’ll be right here,” I say.

Matthew takes a deep breath. “I guess if I’m plummeting to my death, it’s only fitting you’re by my side.”

“Don’t forget making Ms. Beauton happy would be the silver lining,” I say.

I can feel the vibrations of his laugh. “Okay, let’s do this.”

We step to the edge and tension radiates from Matthew’s whole body. “You ready?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“On the count of three. One…two…three. Jump!”

We launch off the platform into the air.

And we’re flying together, the wind in our faces, Matthew pressed against me.

I whoop, and he makes a more choked noise as the ground rushes up to meet us.

We hit the safety net, and Matthew leans back into me, and I brace his weight, my arms instinctively going around him.

“See, that wasn’t too bad, was it?”

Matthew’s face is flushed. “I guess it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

The instructor comes forward to unclip us.

When I look up, I see Paul and Annette are only halfway around the course, inching their way through the log challenge.

I nudge Matthew’s shoulder, and he follows my line of sight.

“Guess their orienteering superiority isn’t much help up high,” I say.

“Still a long way to go before we reach the treasure,” Matthew warns.

Once we’re out of our harnesses, the instructor hands us our next clue.

Head to where patrons laze and children play on the sand

Palm trees sway and the edge of the water reaches the land

“Okay, so it’s on a beach, but what beach?” Matthew asks.

“Patrons laze…maybe the south beach. It’s got the most sun loungers?” I suggest.

“Good thinking. Let’s try there.”

Sure enough, when we reach the south beach, there’s a series of tables with complex cryptic puzzles set up.

Most of the puzzles are gobbledygook to me, but Matthew races through them like they’re as simple as a color-by-number activity.

“I kind of love your brain when it’s not conspiring ways to get at me,” I say.

He looks up as he clicks the last piece into place. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I’m pretty sure my ‘Oh my god, Matthew, your ass is amazing’ is equally up there.”

“So you love my brain and my ass then?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“They both have their good points,” I say.

He grins at me, and I can’t help swooping in to kiss him. Which could be weird because we’re halfway through a treasure hunt, so it can’t progress to anything, and none of his colleagues are around for it to provide evidence for our fake relationship.

But nothing feels weird about kissing him anymore.

Instead, I’m kissing him just because I want to. There is nothing better than having Matthew’s lips against mine, having his body pressed against me.

Our kisses have changed over the last few days. They’re not the frantic and furious ones they were to begin with.

This one is gentle and soft.

He sighs against my lips, and when he pulls back, he looks completely kiss-drunk. Kind of like how I feel.

“Uh, I guess we better save the working off animosity stuff until after we’ve won this thing, right?” I say.

He blinks at me a few times. “Right,” he says.

My breathing is coming faster than it should as we open the envelope to get our next clue, which sends us hurtling toward the restaurant.

But as we race through the resort, I’m not focused on navigating the fastest track so we can win the treasure hunt.

Instead, my mind is full of Matthew.

Why can’t I stop wanting to kiss him? Why does this feel like so much more than two guys just hooking up?

We go through the restaurant challenge without a hitch, somehow combining to guess the five mystery ingredients in the dish.

We share triumphant smiles at the end, and I realize this is what’s messing with me. Because this thing with Matthew doesn’t just feel like a connection in the bedroom. Underneath all our quips at each other’s expense, something else is present. Some kind of weird…compatibility.

Which is literally the last word I ever thought I’d use to describe Matthew O’Connor and me.

The hot sexual chemistry I get, and okay, it might be more intense than anything I’ve had before, but that could just be due to the extreme emotions that have always existed between us.

It’s this connection out of the bedroom that’s really spinning my head.

Unfortunately, we lose our way while heading to the small cove with the palm trees where the buried treasure awaits, so when we finally arrive, Paul and Annette are already there, halfway through digging a hole.

Damn their superior orienteering skills.

Matthew’s shoulders slump.

“It’s not over yet, baby,” I say. “You know how good I am at finding the treasure spot in tight holes.”

Matthew just shakes his head wordlessly at me. It’s like he’s been rendered dumbstruck at my immense sense of humor. I’m not sure if it’s in a good or bad way though.

I pull out the clue and read it.

Seek the tallest tropical sentinel and head four paces toward the water from the crest.

Then duo two to the left and dig to reveal the treasure’s nest.

“The tallest tropical sentinel has to be the tallest palm tree, so it’s four paces toward the water, then two paces to the left,” Matthew says.

I don’t have time to marvel yet again at Matthew’s brain because we’re busy treading out the instructions. Then it’s time to dig.

It’s a one-on-one race, and I’m not about to let Matthew down.

I shovel sand like my life depends on it, heaving handfuls over my shoulder. Matthew and I dig side by side, sweat dripping down our faces in the hot sun, our shoulders brushing against each other. The muscles in my arms and shoulders hurt, but I don’t allow something small like pain to deter me.

Not when the reward is going to be Matthew’s smile.

My hands scrape the top of something hard.

“Here it is!”

We speed up our digging until I manage to remove enough sand to pry the treasure chest out from the sandy depths.

“There’s some kind of code to unlock it.”

Matthew figures out the code in a few seconds because, of course, he does, and suddenly, the treasure chest is open, spilling out loads of fake gold coins.

Matthew grabs a handful, raising his eyebrows. “I’m not sure if fake gold coins are the prize I’ve always desired in life.”

I give him a wink. “You get me as a prize later on too.”

“So, a booby prize then,” he says, and I can’t help laughing, then swooping in to kiss him.

We just pull apart when Henrietta and Carl arrive on the beach, treasure map in hand.

Henrietta takes one look at the treasure chest open in front of us, then at Paul and Annette, who are still digging away fruitlessly on the other side of the beach, refusing to concede defeat.

“Let me guess, you two won again?” she asks.

“Yup. It’s what we do,” I say.

“You guys make the ultimate team,” Henrietta says.

Matthew looks at me, and the smile he gives me is almost shy. “Yeah, we do.”