Page 16 of Waiting for a Prince (Island Tales #1)

Chapter Thirteen

Sam woke with a start to find himself in inky darkness.

Where am I?

Then he remembered. Mark’s flat. The Scotch. That explained the suede tongue.

He sat up, trying to recall the room’s lighting. A lamp. There’d been a lamp nearby.

He reached out carefully, sighing with relief when his fingers connected with the on/off switch. Warm light spilled into the room, and he moaned when he saw the glass of water on the coffee table. He drank it all, then padded his way into the kitchen to get more.

His head ached, and he had no idea of the time.

All he knew was he’d never felt so alone.

I have to put things right.

He just wasn’t sure how.

When the thought came to him, he dismissed it. Mark would explode. But Sam’s need overrode his good sense. He left the living room and stood in the small hallway, surrounded by three doors.

Which one is it?

His pulse quickened.

This is not a good idea.

Sam had listened to that inner voice several hours ago. Look where that got me .

Sure, Mark might throw a hissy fit when he woke up, but right then, Sam needed to feel like he wasn’t alone in the world.

The solution to that lay behind one of the three doors.

Sunday, August 18

Mark opened his eyes and blinked in the sunlight that poured through his bright yellow curtains. He glanced at the clock beside him and did a double take.

It was already nine.

Fuck . Mark rarely slept this late.

Thank God it’s Sunday.

He yawned and stretched his body under the sheet—and froze when he came into contact with a warm, solid body which definitely hadn’t been there when he’d fallen asleep. He jerked away, rolling onto his back, and stared in disbelief.

Sam lay beside him in the bed, his head nestled in the pillows, eyes closed. Mark caught his breath. Sam’s upper body was bare. Mark lifted the sheet carefully and peered beneath it. At least he’d kept his briefs on.

Mark’s brain went into overdrive. What the hell was Sam doing in his bed, and how long had he been there? He sat up, all sleep driven from him.

“Morning.”

He jumped. Sam gazed up at him, his expression watchful. He gave a sleepy blink.

Mark pulled the sheet up around him, dimly aware of the absurdity of this action. The man had seen him naked on the beach twice , for goodness’ sake.

“What are you doing in my bed, Sam?” He kept his tone even.

Sam opened his eyes wide. “The way you’re reacting, anyone would think you’d never had a guy in bed with you before.”

Mark gave him a meaningful stare. “That might be because I’ve never had a guy in bed with me before.”

And what does that say about my sex life?

He frowned. “I know I put away a lot of booze last night, but I don’t recall asking you to come to bed with me.” The state he’d been in, anything was possible. And just because he didn’t remember saying anything resembling that, didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

Sam flushed. “You didn’t. I… I woke up a couple of hours ago and I… I didn’t want to be alone.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I just assumed…”

Mark reached across the sheet and grasped Sam’s hand. “Really, it’s okay. It was just a bit of a shock, waking up to find I had a bed partner.”

A bit of a shock was an understatement.

He tilted his head. “Do you often climb into bed with your friends?”

That flush deepened. “Not really. Besides, there’s only one person I’d class as a friend, and that’s you.”

Mark blinked. “I’d have thought that would be Rebecca. You know—your girlfriend?” He kept his tone light, but he had a list of questions that was growing longer by the minute.

Sam paled. “Oh fuck.” His eyes dropped to the sheet which covered him. Mark pulled back his hand and threw off the sheet. He got out of bed, picked up his robe from where he’d dropped it earlier, and pulled it on. He stood at the foot of the bed and gazed at Sam.

“I think you and I need to talk, because right now, I’m confused. I’m going to make some coffee.” He turned and exited the room. Inside his head was a mass of tumbling, convoluted thoughts.

Last night had fucking hurt .

He accused me of manipulating the situation. Sam had been the epitome of the indignant straight guy. But a straight guy doesn’t climb into bed with his gay friend, does he? And judging by Sam’s reaction just now, there was more to this than not wanting to be alone.

Mark switched on the kettle and dumped coffee into two mugs, his thoughts never straying far from the man in his bed.

The one thing that refused to leave him was the thought that Sam had looked damn good in it.

From behind him, he heard movement. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam pulling on his jeans, his face still flushed.

Mark turned back to his task. When he picked up the two mugs and went toward the sofa, he found Sam sitting on the edge of the seat cushion, his torso and feet bare, elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands.

Mark set the mug down in front of him and then sat at the opposite end of the sofa.

A little distance was required right now.

Mark sipped his coffee, wincing as the hot liquid burnt his lip. The silence spun out between them until it was almost tangible. Sam wouldn’t look at him.

Finally, Mark couldn’t stand it any longer.

“All right, talk to me. That’s what you came here for, after all, wasn’t it?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, his chin raised, his head cocked to one side. Mark did his best to keep his expression neutral.

“What’s going on, Sam?”

“I’m sorry about last night,” Sam said finally. “I had no right to say those things. I knew as soon as I said them that you wouldn’t do something so… so…”

“Underhanded? Mean? Sneaky?” Mark suggested. Sam nodded unhappily. Mark pushed out a long stream of air. “Then why did you leave like that?”

Sam hung his head. “Because if I’d stayed, I might have told you the truth,” he whispered.

Mark stilled. “The truth? So that implies what, that you’ve been lying to me?

” Sam kept silent. Mark put his mug down and moved closer, until he was sitting so close to Sam that he could feel the heat pouring off him.

“Come on, Sam, you’ve got this far. Don’t stop now.

” His heart pounding, Mark stretched out a hand and cupped Sam’s chin, tilting his head upward.

The tortured look in Sam’s lovely blue eyes twisted Mark’s gut.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can tell me anything, all right? I’m not gonna judge you.”

Sam blinked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed several times. He straightened and looked Mark in the eye. “I’m gay.”

Mark froze, staring at him in confusion. “What?” The words wouldn’t register in his brain. “I don’t understand.”

Sam stared at him miserably. “I’m gay.”

“Since when?” Mark demanded. A thought suddenly hammered in his brain. “Oh, God, you’re not gonna tell me I have anything to do with this, are you? That I somehow turned you gay? Because I hate to break it to you, but you can’t catch gayness like some infection.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, no. I’ve known I was gay since I was in high school.”

Mark’s mouth fell open. “You what ?”

“Remember me telling you Mr. Edwards was the one who caught me on the computer, watching porn?” Mark nodded. “Well, what he didn’t tell anyone was that it was gay porn.”

Mark was suddenly dizzy as fuck. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted in a low voice. “He said he had to inform the Head, but that the… subject matter would be our secret.” He gave a wry smile.

“I’d always wondered about him. Well, I stopped wondering after that.

He was so cool. We had this long chat one day after class.

He was the first person I came out to. I was just starting to be interested in guys, and it was a really confusing time. ”

“I still don’t understand,” Mark persisted. “You’re passing yourself off as straight. Hell, you have a girlfriend .”

Sam wrung his hands. “Mark, there’s no way I can be gay. My dad…. My dad just wouldn’t understand.”

Mark’s heart went out to him. Apparently, that was one thing they had in common. “If that’s the case, then okay, I get it. But why not stay single? Why go to the lengths of having a girlfriend?”

Sam stiffened. “I…I don’t want to talk about Rebecca, all right? It’s… it’s complicated.” His eyes pleaded with Mark. “Besides, there’s something much more important that I want to discuss.”

“What?”

And then the breath caught in his throat as Sam leaned forward and kissed him.

His lips were soft and warm. Mark let out a soft moan and cupped Sam’s head, deepening the kiss, his tongue darting out to lick the seam of Sam’s lips, tasting coffee.

Sam groaned and reached for Mark, his tongue demanding entrance. Mark was lost in the heady moment.

Until reality bit—hard.

Mark pushed at Sam’s chest, breaking the kiss.

“Wait a minute.” He struggled to get his breath back. Sam stared at him, wide-eyed, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, his chest heaving.

Mark gave him an incredulous look. “What—you thought you’d tell me you were gay and that would be it? Next stop, between the sheets?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Sorry, Sam, it doesn’t work that way.” He shivered. Despite his protestations, the kiss had shaken him to the core.

No one had ever kissed him.

No one had ever rocked his world the way Sam had done in a heartbeat.

Mark struggled to compose himself.

“But…. But…” Sam’s voice quavered. “I kissed you—and you kissed me back. I didn’t dream that part, did I? That was you moaning just now?”

Mark shifted away from him. “Yes, I’m attracted to you.

Hell, you heard me last night. That wasn’t a lie.

” He softened his voice when he saw confusion etched across Sam’s face.

“And yes, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy.

But none of that matters.” Mark swallowed.

“You have a girlfriend, Sam. And I’m sorry, but I will not be a party to you cheating on Rebecca.

” His chest tightened as he said the words.

“I only have sex with single guys.” Then he sighed.

“Okay, so I have no idea if they’re in a relationship or not.

They’re only there to get blown or fucked.

But I do check for a wedding ring, every time.

” He fixed Sam with an intense look. “That’s beside the point.

I don’t know every guy I hook up with—not that there have been that many, I hasten to add—whereas I do know you.

I’ve met Rebecca.” He shook his head once more.

“I’m sorry, Sam. Much as I would love to take you into my bedroom right now and fuck your brains out,”—Sam jerked his head back in surprise—“I’m not going to. ”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Sam spoke. “You… want me?”

Mark chuckled. “Oh God, Sam, you have no idea how much I want you.” He watched Sam’s pupils dilate, and that simple physical reaction spoke louder than words ever could.

“But we can’t,” Mark stressed, as gently as he could.

Even as he said it, he felt his cock harden, his nipples tighten into hard little nubs.

God, he ached. He gazed down at his mug of coffee, deliberately avoiding Sam’s gaze.

He heard the hitch in Sam’s breathing and waited for his next words.

“You’re right.” Despite his words, however, there was no mistaking the note of reluctance in Sam’s tone.

Mark heaved a sigh of relief. He’d instinctively known Sam was an honourable guy, but it was good to hear him confirm Mark’s faith in him. It didn’t stop Mark’s heart from sinking, all the same.

Why in God’s name do I have to be so principled ?

“Would you mind if we talked some more?” Sam’s question was almost shy.

Mark smiled. “Not at all. I have some questions of my own.” He watched as Sam nervously gulped down his coffee.

Mark had an idea. “How about we go somewhere and have some breakfast? I know a quiet place where we could grab a couple of bacon sandwiches and sit and look at the sea. What do you say?” He mentally crossed his fingers.

Anything to get Sam out of his flat and away from the temptation of taking him to bed.

Having principles was one thing, but Mark wasn’t Superman by any stretch of the imagination.

He had no idea how long he could resist the lure of those blue eyes, that tight body.

Right now, he was fighting the urge to stretch Sam out on the couch under him and trace every tattoo with his tongue, and play with the silvery rings through his nipples, tugging at them with his teeth.

Thankfully, Sam appeared to like the idea.

“That sounds good,” he acknowledged. “Can I ask a favour, though?” Mark waited expectantly.

“Would it be okay if I grabbed a quick shower? I was sitting on the beach for a good few hours last night, and I feel kind of sandy.” He flushed as he looked down at the couch. “I hope I didn’t get sand everywhere.”

Mark got to his feet and collected Sam’s empty mug, along with his own. “Sure. I was going to have a shower myself. You go first. I’ll find you a towel.” Sam gave him a grateful smile. Mark deposited the mugs in the kitchen sink and went in search of a clean towel.

And while he’s showering, I need to steer clear of the bathroom , Mark thought decisively.

No, definitely not Superman.

Sam bowed his head under the stream of warm water, letting it sluice away sand and sleep.

I haven’t screwed it up.

Well, not entirely. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, and Mark would never get to hear the whole story.

No one would.

But their conversation had provided a glimmer of hope.

Sam still had his friend. More importantly, Mark had feelings for him, not that he would act on them, and that only confirmed what Sam had suspected.

Mark’s one of the good guys.

He’d have to be careful during their next conversation. There was only so much he could reveal.

How far am I prepared to go?

As far as it took to keep Mark in his life. Not the way Sam wanted him, but he’d resigned himself to that.

Mark’s question of the previous night resurfaced.

Why do you stay with her?

A question he couldn’t answer, because the truth filled him with self-loathing.

Anger.

Disgust.

The words of a song came to him, something about turning back time.

What would I do differently?

That was easy. He wouldn’t have agreed to this whole unhealthy scheme.

And he’d have kept Rebecca as far away from the drawer of his bedside cabinet as it was possible to get.