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“Scotch?”
Marcus takes the glass with barely a nod and downs it in one gulp, pursing his lips as the burning alcohol slides down his throat.
“Another?” Esca asks, motioning to take the glass.
“No.”
Marcus hands the glass back to Esca and watches while Esca slowly sips his own drink. Esca can feel the scrutiny from Marcus's gaze and he shifts back in his seat, trying to look relaxed, crossing one leg over the other and resting his arm across the back of the leather seat. He meets Marcus's scrutinizing gaze with one of his own.
Marcus looks unperturbed. “You do this a lot?”
Esca takes another sip of scotch. “That would depend on what you mean by this,” Esca says. “Attend fights? Drink fine scotch in the back of my limo? Carry on conversations with violent underground street fighters?”
“I mean pay guys like me to fuck you,” Marcus mutters, looking unimpressed by Esca's humor.
“I have done,” Esca replies, because he doesn't see the point in lying. “Does that upset you?”
“I don't give a shit what you do,” Marcus shrugs. “If you have to pay for it, that's your business.”
Esca bristles. “I don't have to pay for it. I choose to, because it's easier.”
“How so.”
“I look at it as a business deal,” Esca takes the last sip of his drink. “No emotional attachment.”
Marcus doesn't respond, and he turns his gaze to the window as the car begins to slow. The driver takes the vehicle down a long driveway, buzzing them through the security gate, and pulls the car up to the front entrance.
Esca raises his empty glass in a mock toast. “Home sweet home.”
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“Scotch?” Esca offers again, stepping behind the bar and taking out two glasses.
“No.”
Esca slips three ice cubes into his glass and fills it halfway. “I also have beer, if you'd rather.”
“No.”
“Suit yourself.” Esca takes out a beer anyway, setting it on the bar, before taking a sip of his drink. He watches Marcus, who is slowly pacing the room and looking unimpressed.
“What's one person need with all this space?”
“How do you know I live alone?” Esca smirks.
Marcus gives him a glare as if he sees right through him, and then slides his hand along the back of the sofa, feeling the brocade and flicking one of the tassels. “You actually like this stuff?”
“That's French silk,” Esca says, tilting his glass towards the sofa. “It's expensive.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Esca shrugs. “I like it well enough.”
Marcus ignores the reply and walks over to the grand piano in the corner. “Steinway,” he mutters as he touches the keys, and a few notes trickle out before he speaks again. “You play?”
“Nah, it's just for show.”
Marcus ignores Esca again, focusing his attention on the piano. It's an intriguing juxtaposition - Marcus, bruised and bloodied, standing next to the sleek black piano, his callused fingers ghosting over the smooth black and white keys.
“And you?” Esca asks, because he's suddenly curious. “Do you play?”
There's a beat as Marcus's hand stills, and for a split second Esca is sure he's going to say yes.
“No.”
“Thought you were going to say yes,” Esca laughs. “You seem quite taken with it.”
Marcus looks unamused. “I just find it interesting.”
“The piano?”
“You,” Marcus gestures around the room, waving his hand flippantly, “all this.”
“How so?”
“You own a grand piano that you can't play, you buy shit just because it's expensive--”
“I'm not paying you to insult my taste,” Esca interrupts.
“You haven't paid me anything yet.”
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“I'm giving you half now,” Esca explains when Marcus reaches for the money. “You'll get the other half at the end of the night.”
Marcus pauses. “How do I know you'll hold up your end of the deal?”
“I'm a man of my word.” Esca thrusts the money in Marcus's outstretched hand. “As long as you hold up your end of the deal you'll get what I promised you.”
Marcus stuffs the cash into his pocket. “So where are we doing this?”
“Doing this,” Esca repeats the words, smirking, “you make it sound so casual.”
Marcus lunges then, as if they're in a fight and Esca is his opponent, and Esca doesn't see the move coming. His breath catches as Marcus shoves him against the desk and thrusts his knee between Esca's thighs, pinning him.
“A business deal, right?” Marcus spits. His breath is hot against Esca's cheek as he leans in, and Esca can smell him. Marcus smells of sweat and blood and earth, and the thick humid air of that filthy back room, and an ache grows low in Esca's groin.
“We haven't laid out your rules,” Esca says, his voice softer than he'd like as he speaks against Marcus's ear. He doesn't really care about the rules at this point, his cock is already growing stiff and he's not about to back out, but if Marcus wants rules he can lay down rules.
Marcus grasps Esca's hair and tilts his head back, holding him in place and speaking against Esca's cheek. “Two rules. One, I'll fuck you, but I won't blow you. And two, you'll do as I say.”
“That's a pretty open-ended rule.”
“It's simple, actually,” Marcus growls. “You want me to fuck you, you'll do as I say. Got it?”
Esca can't help but smile, despite the hold Marcus has on him. “Got it.” Esca pushes his cock against Marcus's leg, using the small amount of leverage he can manage. “I want you to blow me, though.”
“My rules,” Marcus shakes his head, taking some of his weight off Esca. “And if I'm going to fuck you I need to be hard,” he uses his hold on Esca's hair to give him a push, forcing him to his knees. “So make me hard.”
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Pinning, hair pulling, merciless topping, forcing to kneel! ♥
Top!Marcus is a rare sight, but so, so yummy! And he has a mysterious backstory!
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........
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I LOVE IT!!!!!
MORE!!!!
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I love that Marcus is the one in charge for once and it is obvious that they both have hidden depths that I can't wait to see revealed :)
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