Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
At the end of the long hall, József stopped and pulled his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. He turned the knob and then paused, looking over his shoulder at Royce before turning his gaze to Marc.
“Should I ask your boyfriend to remain behind?”
“No, let him join us,” Marc said as a new idea started to form in his brain.
József hesitated another second but nodded. Opening the door, József led the way inside the large room. Marc’s gaze quickly drifted over the exquisite collection of Old Masters. He counted one Caravaggio, a pair of Rubens, a few Rembrandts, and even a van Loo. József really did have an amazing collection of art, and everything looked as if it were legally purchased. In a long glass case in the center of the room, he saw the half dozen Fabergé eggs that he owned along with other unique pieces made by Fabergé.
But it was the pedestal at the far end of the room that was drawing his eyes. He knew it only by the written description from Fabergé and the black-and-white photo, but he was sure that he’d recognize the egg regardless. As they walked closer, he could more easily make out the small gold wire stand and the matte white enamel egg balanced on it. The egg stood less than four inches tall and was decorated with gold and platinum. A variety of diamonds glittered in the light in the shape of baskets, flowers, and ribbons. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand if the tiny gold bust of Alexander III on a lapis lazuli pedestal was with it.
Instead, he let out a little sigh and forced his eyes to wander away from the long-lost egg as if he were already bored.
“Can you believe it? I found it!” József said, excitement vibrating with every word.
“What? The egg?”
“Yes! It’s the Alexander III Commemorative Egg that we’d discussed.”
Royce placed his hand on Marc’s hip and gently pushed. Marc took the hint and carefully moved to his right around the pedestal. He could only guess that Royce was moving him so that he could get into position where he was not in view of the security camera he’d likely spotted or the guard who was standing in the doorway.
Lovely. He had to grab both the attention of József and the guard. Well, this was likely to do it.
Marc gave a little dismissive wave of his hand and stepped into József’s personal space. “You know that Fabergé is not my specialty.” Marc placed his hand in the middle of József’s chest and smiled, letting it turn a bit wicked. “I thought you’d asked me here for a different reason.” He wrapped his fingers around József’s tie and slid them down the silken threads, his knuckles brushing against the man’s chest. There was no missing the man’s audible swallow in the quiet room.
“But-but-but…Marc,” he stammered.
“Oh, there’s no reason to play coy with me now. You’ve dropped a dozen hints over the past couple of years. All our meetings and late-night dinners. Drinks and heart-to-hearts. I thought you were just being a friend.” Marc took a step closer and licked his lips, while József took an unsteady step backward.
“I was!” he croaked.
“No, I’ve realized the truth now. After being with Royce, I can see it now. He’s taught me so many things. You’re dying to fuck me. You want to bend me over that chair,” he said, jerking his chin toward the chair next to the door and the security guard. “And you want to fill me with your fat cock.”
“Marc!” József cried out in a strangled voice. He said something low and broken in Hungarian before switching back to English. “What about your boyfriend? Royce—”
“Royce loves to watch. He gets off on watching someone fuck me hard.”
József swallowed again and took another step backward as Marc stepped closer. Marc had managed to angle József so that he was directly in the guard’s line of sight and away from the stolen egg. He didn’t know how long Royce needed to get the damn picture, but Marc was beginning to worry that József would surprise him and take him up on his offer. He knew József was not gay, but the fact that the art collector wasn’t shouting and cursing him made Marc wonder if he’d read the man incorrectly.
Taking a ragged breath, József looked over his shoulder at the guard, who very quickly directed his gaze away from them. Marc nearly laughed. He’d gotten the audience he’d been trying for, but now József appeared to be seriously considering his offer. Fuck.
Another arm slid around Marc from behind, and a strong hand pressed against his chest. Royce’s cologne wafted past his nose and it was like he could suddenly breathe again.
“Mmm…I think you might have misread this one, baby,” Royce said, his voice barely over a growl. “Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll fill you up.”