Page 43 of Waiting for a Prince
He’ll tell me when he’s ready.
“No, no one.” Sam fixed his gaze on a lone figure out on the water in a canoe. “I went out to a couple of gay clubs when I was in London a few times, but to be honest, I was scared to death. It wasn’t like I imagined.” He shivered.
“Tell me.”
Sam scrubbed his fingers through his short hair. “I don’t know, it was just so…. The music was loud and throbbing, the dancers… My God, the dancers were naked!”
Mark chuckled. “Oh, you went to a gay strip club. I’ve been to one a couple of times.” He didn’t mention the fact he’d hooked up with one of the strippers after the show for a lightning-quick fuck in the alley behind the club.
Something in Sam’s words registered.
Wait a sec.
“Sam… have you… what I mean is…” He cleared his throat.Oh, for God’s sake, justaskhim.“Sam, what have you done with a guy?”
A slow tide of red spread upward from Sam’s chest, crept up his neck and across his cheeks. The blush was adorable.
When it became clear Sam wasn’t going to answer the question, Mark persisted. “Okay, this is none of my business, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… Have you and Rebecca had sex?”
More silence.
Mark sucked in a deep breath. “Sam… are you a virgin?”
Those cheeks were suddenly bright red—and Mark had his answer.
Holy fuck.
“Sam. You’re twenty-three.” Mark couldn’t imagine getting to that age and not having fuckedsomeone, at least once.
“I’ve blown a couple of guys and been sucked off a few times. Besides, my parents brought me up to see sex as something that happens when you meet someone and fall in love.” Mark couldn’t miss the defensive note in Sam’s voice.
“Now hang on a minute—you had oral sex.” Mark arched his eyebrows. “Oral sex doesn’t count as sex in your book?”
Sam’s cheeks flamed. “Sorry. I guess I think of sex as being when someone actually….youknow…” The words trailed off.
Mark’s face tingled. “I think it’s great that you waited. Makes me wish I had.”
Sam jumped in. “Oh, but being experienced is good, too.” His face glowed. “I know I wantmyfirst time to be with someone who knows what he’s doing.”
All of a sudden Mark heard his mother’s voice in his head, the memory as clear as if it had been yesterday, not five years ago. He snorted. When Sam gave him a puzzled glance, Mark explained. “My mother’s idea of the birds and the bees talk? ‘Just make sure when you have sex for the first time that it’s with someone who has a clue what they’re doing. There’s nothing more pathetic in this life than the idea of two virgins fumbling around together.’”
Sam widened his eyes. “I… I don’t think that’s pathetic at all.”
Mark looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. A feeling of heaviness settled over him. Things might have been different if his dad had been alive. He was certain his dad wouldn’t have reacted to Mark’s coming out in the same way his mother did. A familiar slow tide of rage threatened to surge through him, buthe fought against it, determined not to let anything spoil the day and this time he shared with Sam.
He fixed his gaze instead on the figure who was tugging a canoe up onto the beach. He recognized the young man clad in a bright blue wetsuit immediately. Taylor Monroe operated a small business down in the bay, hiring out surf boards, kayaks and wetsuits. Mark had just joined Ryde High School when Taylor had been about to finish his final year there. He’d been a bit of a loner at school, a typical surfer who seemed to spend every spare minute out in the water. Mark envied him his life. Taylor had a house right on the bay, a large white painted edifice with a porch where he would sit throughout the summer. Mark had often imagined living there.
To be able to open a window and hear the sea. Heaven.
“Just so you don’t feeltoosorry for me.” Sam broke through Mark’s reverie. Mark gave him his full attention. “I do have a few toys.”
“Oh really?” Mark arched his eyebrows.
That flush was back again.
“I bought a Fleshjack.”
Mark cackled. “Which one?”
