Page 24 of The Swap After Hours

Sweat beaded my brow, though I wasn’t sure if it was caused by the intensely sexual things I was seeing or the fear of getting caught. Part of me kept waiting for someone to recognize me as a member of the catering staff and call security to have me hauled out of there.

Luckily, I didn’t have to worry. The guests were so caught up in their own activities that I might as well have been invisible. My heart about leaped into my throat when I passed the room Ms. Rathchild was in, but she was too focused on the man she had tied spread eagle on the bed.

I cringed when she delivered a harsh blow to his thigh with her whip, making him cry out, but the way his dick was leaking all over his stomach made it clear how aroused he was by the stinging pain. I moved on to the next room before Ms. Rathchild could spot me. I didn’t want to anger her, especially when she was holding that whip.

I made my way down to the last room where the tantalizing sounds of slapping skin, wet sucking, and garbled moans leaked out into the hallway. A woman was on her hands and knees on the bed, being spit roasted by two men. Another man lay on his back, his face between her thighs, furiously licking her clit while fisting his own cock.

Disappointment made my shoulders slump. None of them were the man I was searching for. There was only one other place he could possibly be and that was the rooftop terrace, where I’d seen him the last time.

Deciding to head up there and have a look around, I started to back away from the doorway when I bumped into something solid. Hoping it wasn’t some expensive vase that was about to fall and shatter apart, I whipped around, colliding into the man standing there.

“I’m so—” My apology got stuck in my throat when I looked up and saw Mr. Marshall staring down at me, his body rigid with tension and his face red with fury.

CHAPTER 9

DONOVAN

I was seething as I glared down at my PA. I barely noticed the sharp sting of my fingernails cutting into my palms as my hands fisted at my sides. My jaw clenched tight, and my nostrils flared as I tried to rein in my harsh breaths.

I’d arrived late to the swap party, as usual. I didn’t give a shit about socializing with any of the people there or sharing a meal with them. I attended those parties for one reason and one reason only. To fuck.

Helen Rathchild had been passing the bowl of keys around when I got there—an idea that was a bit outdated, but some guests seemed to get a kick out of the tradition, so it continued.

I’d barely slept the night before thanks to Trevor Reed and the thoughts of him that plagued me, no matter how hard I tried to push them away. I ended up tossing and turning most of the night only to fall into a fitful sleep where I dreamed of him—his full, pouty lips that just begged to be kissed and eyes the color of the bluest sky that sparkled whenever he smiled.

In my dream, I had him backed against the door of my office, my hands on either side of his head, caging him in. He stared up at me as I towered over him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in invitation.

I bent my head to kiss him but movement to my right stopped me before I could and when I turned my head, I came face to face with many of the people who worked for me, the vice president of the company, board members, shareholders, Kelly, and even Dan the security guard. They shook their heads in unison, disapproval radiating off them in waves.

I’d woken with a start, my heart racing and a thin sheen of sweat coating my body causing the sheets to stick to me uncomfortably. I couldn’t help that I was attracted to Trevor, but the dream had served as a reminder of why no one could ever know about it.

As owner of the company, I had obligations, responsibilities. Thousands of people were counting on me for their own livelihood. I had to act my best, be my best at all times. They trusted me to make sound business decisions, not to behave like some perverted boss in the 80s, chasing his secretary around the desk.

Giving up hope of getting any restful sleep, I’d finally climbed out of bed, taken a shower then padded down to my home office, figuring I might as well get some work done. The lack of sleep had left me in a foul mood and the last thing I wanted was to be cornered by someone who wanted to talk business, which was why I chose to stay out of sight until most of the guests had selected their keys and dispersed with their partners for the evening.

I stood in a small alcove, watching the pairings trickle out of the room, some inviting a third to go with them, others not taking a key at all because they preferred to watch instead of partaking in the randy activities. There were no set rules—apart from safety matters—at swap parties. Guests were free to explore their deepest desires in whatever way they wanted.

Most nights, I didn’t take a key. I preferred to choose my own partner, which helped avoid those awkward situations when a woman happened to select my keys. Most seemed disappointed, but understood when I explained that I was gay, a couple of them even convincing me to fuck their husbands while they watched.

Those had been fun nights, but overall, I preferred selecting my own partner. Especially tonight. I was tired of Trevor Reed screwing with my head, and was determined to fuck him out of my system, once and for all. I just needed to find someone who looked enough like him.

And then I spotted him. A man who looked so much like Trevor that he could be his twin. Dirty-blond hair, plush lips, slender yet firm body, this man checked off all the boxes. My cock jumped eagerly at the sight of him, obviously agreeing that this man was the one.

My attention was diverted when Helen sauntered over to talk to me. We’d known each other for years and took part in many of the same social and charitable functions. I liked her and appreciated her discretion when it came to the parties she threw, so I swallowed my frustrated sigh and spent several minutes talking with her.

Unfortunately, by the time she moved on, so had the man who looked like Trevor. I scanned the room one more time to be sure then hurried up to the rooftop, hoping he was there and that he wasn’t already occupied with someone else. My heart sunk when he wasn’t there either, but I was determined to find him. He looked so much like Trevor that surely, fucking him would help exorcise my PA from my system.

Returning to the main floor, I began checking each room that had an open door. There were several people loitering in the hallways, watching the erotic scenes playing out inside the rooms and I sighed with relief when I spotted a dirty-blond head at the far end.

I moved quickly, not wanting to lose sight of him again, but the closer I got, the easier it was to take in his features. Ice ran through my veins as my eyes zeroed in on him and I realized he didn’t just look like Trevor, he was Trevor. What the fucking hell?

Fury and an overwhelming feeling of betrayal coursed through me as I moved in behind him. I stood there, trying to rein in my anger, but before I could get it under control, he stepped back, bumping into me. He started to apologize, but his words died off when he realized he’d been caught.

His blue eyes widened with fear when I wrapped my fingers around his bicep. I glanced around. Several people had turned to look at us. “Mr. Marshall, I can?—”

“Not here,” I hissed.

I dragged him over to a nearby janitor’s closet and shoved him inside, following behind. The room was cramped, the sparse floor space storage to a couple of vacuums and a big yellow mop bucket. The scent of harsh chemicals hung in the air, making my nose twitch.

---