Jack’s laughs turned to moans, and his legs wrapped around Ethan as his hips rocked up, his cock thrusting against Ethan’s. “I just want this forever,” he breathed, arching into Ethan’s touch. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” Ethan whispered, capturing Jack’s lips. Their kiss stretched on and on, and neither man noticed Scott quietly shutting the study door. “And you have me. Forever.”
Jack’s fingers went to Ethan’s shirt, working quickly down the long line of buttons. “Make love to me. Don’t ever stop.”
The party rolled on without them as Ethan painted Jack’s body with love, breathed life into his soul, and held him through all of his tears.
72
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
ADAM PLUCKED AT THE long sleeves of his snow-whitethawb. The garment was long and far looser than anything he’d ever worn before. Like a dress, or a muumuu, even. The gentle Riyadh breeze wafted up the long, loose hem. Even though the wind was hot, goose bumps rose on his calves.
Being in Riyadh in summer felt like he was on the surface of Mars. Heat blasted him, as if the sun had turned its whole focus on the desert city. Shimmering heatwaves reflected off the ground, the buildings. Even at the king’s palace, with its stately palms, jewel-encrusted courtyards, and industrial air conditioning, the heat still roasted their every move.
Faisal ran his hands down Adam’s chest, smoothing histhawbafter straightening his collar. The ends of Adam’skeffiyehdangled over his shoulders, loose knots tickling in the soft air.
The king had summoned them both to Riyadh. King Faisal al-Saud, the man for whom Faisal was named, the ruler of Saudi Arabia, and the head of Faisal’s family.
First, Uncle Abdul had been summoned to the palace, shortly after Adam and Faisal landed in Riyadh, sent from Moscow by the Saudi Arabian embassy. Uncle Abdul had been white as a ghost when he stormed into the airport and found them, bruised, bloody, and bedraggled, and barely hanging on. To Jeddah they went, back to Uncle Abdul’s villa, along with an army of physicians.
It was in Jeddah they told Uncle Abdul about their marriage.
He’d paced for hours, and then prayed through the entire night. They heard his low voice, the groans and warbles of his Arabic filling the villa. Prayers to Allah, for guidance, for wisdom. For peace. For answers. For help.
Adam and Faisal had clung to each other all night long, every hour repeating the vows they’d made. Faisal wore his dog tags, the metal cool against the warmth of his golden skin.
“No matter what,” Faisal whispered against his lips. “We will stay together.”
“I’ll go wherever you will go. Anywhere.” If they were banished. If Faisal was cut off. If they had to resettle somewhere in Europe, or in Malaysia, or Jordan, or Egypt, or Morocco, or even Australia. Somewhere, they would try and have it all: their faith and their love. Would one always have to be subsumed for the other?
No matter what, anywhere they had to go, he’d follow at Faisal’s side.
In the morning, Uncle Abdul, ashen-faced, had said, “I must inform the king.”
He was on a plane to Riyadh that afternoon.
A week passed.
Doc texted them one afternoon.Hey asshole. Where did you disappear to?
He hadn’t told Doc and Coleman. They’d been transported to the US embassy while they were unconscious, and they’d woken up at Bethesda Naval Hospital when they were back in the States. He’d never gotten a chance to say goodbye.
[I went home with Faisal. To Saudi.]
No shit? For how long?
[Forever.]
Silence, for hours, and he’d thought that was the last he’d ever hear from Doc.
Coleman’s busting out of here in a few days. You got some spare rooms in one of your sugar daddy’s palaces? We both wanna be somewhere warm after that shitshow in Santa’s hellhole.
He hadn’t expected that. Faisal found him struggling to hold back tears as he sat on the dock, the same one he and Doc had shared a beer on when he’d finally admitted the truth about him and Faisal.
[If we still have anything after his family is done with us, then yeah. Please come.]
Good luck, L-T