18. Marcus

18

Marcus

I’m back in a familiar pattern— hooking up with my best friend’s brother behind my best friend’s back.

But I can’t stop. Nothing could make me stop this.

Because I’ve forgotten the massive difference between hookup sex and sex with someone I actually like.

Seb and I used to have amazing sex when we were university students. Now, it’s even better. Maybe it’s because we know our time together is finite, so we’ve got to make the most of every second. Every time I touch him, I try to etch the sensation into my memory.

Unfortunately, Saskia has scheduled lots of group activities like snorkeling, paddleboarding, and hiking, which means I’m forced to spend time with Seb without touching him. It’s like navigating a minefield of temptation.

We hike into a waterfall, and I try not to ogle Seb’s ass in his cargo shorts as he walks in front of me.

Unlike so many of Saskia’s friends, Seb is in his element outdoors. His usual awkwardness melts away, replaced by a quiet confidence as he navigates the trail with ease.

While we’re at the lookout, Seb crouches to examine something on the side of the track.

I step closer to see a small green frog, almost invisible in the leaf litter.

Seb leans in, completely absorbed, a soft smile on his face. There’s something about his expression that pulls me closer.

I manage to get near enough to murmur in his ear, “If you kiss it, do you think it’ll turn into a handsome prince?”

He throws a small grin at me. “I’m actually quite discerning about the things I kiss.”

I huff out a laugh. Saskia snaps her head up from where she’s bent over to retrieve a water bottle from her pack.

“What’s so funny?” she asks.

“Seb’s found a frog, and he’s just telling me some interesting facts about Fijian amphibians,” I lie smoothly.

Saskia takes a swig of her water bottle. “I didn’t realize that would be so amusing.”

“Oh, trust me, it is.”

“Saskia! Come over for a photo,” one of her friends calls.

“Those acting lessons definitely paid off,” Seb says to me in an undertone after Saskia turns away, and I flick a grin at him.

Later that afternoon, when we’re lying in bed after a more enjoyable form of exercise than hiking, Seb tells me about the different species of frogs, explaining how some Fijian frogs lay their eggs on land, skipping the tadpole stage entirely.

I don’t know why listening to Seb talk passionately about something makes me feel more centered than I have in years.

Maybe I just like the idea that the world has people like Seb in it.

“Sorry, that’s probably more than you ever wanted to know about the evolutionary adaptations of tropical frogs,” he says.

“Are you kidding me? If they ever do a remake of The Princess and the Frog , I’ll definitely impress the casting directors with all my knowledge.”

Seb gives me a grin. “I’m sure it’ll be ribbeting.”

I groan, covering my head with the pillow. He pulls it off, laughing his deep chuckle.

“So, what’s the next movie you’re releasing?” Seb asks.

“It’s called Love in Zero Gravity .” I can’t help screwing up my nose slightly as I say the name.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m never going to win awards pretending to be a Martian matchmaker, am I?”

Seb props himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing slightly as he studies my face. “I think you’re devaluing the movies you make, Marcus. They make people laugh. They let people escape from their own reality, even if it is just for a couple of hours.”

His words give me pause.

Because he’s right. The movies I make do have value to people, and I shouldn’t ever dismiss that.

But how can I explain the drive I have to be an award-winning actor, to make beautiful movies that leave a lasting impact on the world?

My life has to mean something to compensate for all the pain I’ve caused.

I sit up, putting my hands to my eyes, trying to banish the memories crowding my head.

“What is it?” Seb asks.

“Nothing.”

I can see he doesn’t believe me.

Luckily, he doesn’t press me. He just kisses me instead.

The next day, there’s a snorkeling trip in a glass bottom boat out to the reef, and on the return trip home, I have to stare out to sea to avoid salivating over Seb. He’s only a few feet away from me, looking sunkissed and relaxed, his wet hair curling wildly, drops of water clinging to his lean body.

When we’re getting off the boat, he glances at me, and from the change in his expression, I know I haven’t managed to completely hide my desire.

“Marcus, we’re thinking of trying out the resort’s cocktail-making class. You in?” Saskia asks. I snap my attention back to her.

“I actually think I’m just going to take a nap,” I say.

“Oh, is it naptime for the Hollywood princess?” she smirks.

“Being this good-looking and charming can be exhausting,” I say.

“You’ll regret it when Hollywood decides to do a remake of Cocktail , and you don’t get the part.”

Actually, I’m fairly sure I’m not going to regret my choice now.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I say.

I head back to my villa and wait a few minutes. Then I sling a towel over my shoulder and take the back path toward Seb’s villa. If I run into Saskia or anyone else, I can just claim I decided to have a quick swim before my nap.

But before I reach the pool, I veer off, ducking between a bird of paradise plant and a dense cluster of hibiscus flowers to arrive on Seb’s private patio.

I lightly tap on the sliding glass door.

“There’s something very secret agent about this,” Seb says as he opens the door. There’s a hint of sunburn across his nose and his lips quirk in a half-smile.

“Well, I do have a license to thrill,” I say.

Seb laughs. I don’t know why I get such satisfaction about making Seb laugh compared to other people.

“Do you want to come in and debrief me on your latest mission?” he asks.

“Sure. I’ve got some classified information to share. But it might require a hands-on information exchange.”

And then we’re kissing, me pressing Seb up against the wall, and it’s our usual frantic removal of clothing, hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, our eagerness making us clumsy.

When we’re naked, we press together. Seb’s skin is flushed and warm against mine.

His hands explore my chest, his touch igniting sparks wherever he makes contact. My lips find the sensitive spot on his neck, eliciting a soft moan.

Suddenly, there’s an insistent rap at the front door of this villa.

“Seb, are you in there?” It’s his father’s voice.

Oh, holy shit.

Seb pulls back from me, his eyes alarmed.

The alarm turns to panic when we hear the door handle turning.

I do the only thing I can. I make a mad dash out the still-open patio door while Seb bends down, scrambling for his shorts.

“Hey, do you have—oh…sorry—” his father says.

“I was just getting changed.” Seb’s voice comes out strangulated.

“Your mum isn’t feeling well after the boat ride. I said I’d come check if you had any paracetamol.”

“Um…yeah, I think I’ve got some.”

Seb’s and his father’s voices float out the open door to where I’m standing butt-naked on the patio.

“I’ll just…check the bathroom.” Seb’s voice is unnaturally high.

I hear the sound of Seb’s footsteps padding across the tiles to the bathroom.

But then I hear another set of footsteps coming in my direction.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“You shouldn’t leave your patio door open. You’ll be invaded by bugs. If you want fresh air, you need to use the screens.” His father instructs Seb, his voice sounding even closer.

I look around for where I can hide, but the small patio contains nothing but a sun lounger.

In a panic, I grab the nearest thing to cover myself—a large flimsy leaf from a nearby plant. It barely covers the essentials.

Seb’s father is at the door now. For a second, he’s too busy fiddling with the screen to notice me.

Then he looks up and freezes, his eyes widening, mouth going slack.

There’s a moment of excruciating silence as we stare at each other, me clutching my pathetic leaf shield, him with his mouth agape.

Finally, he closes his mouth and clears his throat. “Ah, Marcus. I see you’re…embracing the local flora.”

I try for a casual smile, which probably looks more like a grimace. “I always like to get in touch with nature.”

Seb appears behind his dad, his expression one of complete horror.

His dad glances at him, then back at me. “Well,” he says dryly, “Don’t forget to use plenty of sunscreen. Some areas are particularly susceptible to burning.”

My face flames hotter than any sunburn.

“I’ll just…leave you to your…nature appreciation,” he says, turning to go. Then he pauses, looking back with a twinkle in his eye. “But you might want to find a bigger leaf.”

“Here’s the paracetamol for Mum,” Seb blurts, thrusting the packet at him.

“Thanks.” His father takes the packet and disappears out of sight.

I stagger into the villa just in time to hear him call back, “Seb, for everyone’s sake, put a Do Not Disturb sign on your door next time.”

The door clicks shut, leaving Seb and me in stunned silence.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that just happened.” Seb stumbles back to the bed and flops face down like he’s attempting to suffocate himself with the pillows.

“Hey, you weren’t the one with your junk hanging out,” I say, and Seb starts a laugh that sounds on the verge of hysteria.

He rolls over so he’s facing the ceiling, rubbing vigorously at his temples. “I’m just going to pretend that didn’t happen. I’m trying to summon the TARDIS so I can undo the last five minutes.”

I can’t help chuckling. But then my voice turns serious. “You don’t think he’s going to tell Saskia, do you?”

“No. I’m fairly sure my father is so traumatized that he’ll never want to relive this particular moment,” Seb says. He glances up and sees the look on my face. “But I’ll tell him we need to keep this on the down-low if you think that’s for the best.”

I feel bad forcing Seb to have an excruciatingly awkward conversation with his father. But equally, I don’t want to deal with the fallout of Saskia finding out I’ve hooked up with her brother against her express order.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

Seb has a vulnerable expression, and I find the words falling out of my mouth. “Not that I’m ashamed of…this. We can tell her if you want.”

“No. I don’t want Saskia to know,” he says definitively.

We just stare at each other for a long moment.

Then, Seb starts shimmering out of his boardshorts. “Given we’ve already been caught for the crime, do you think we could actually commit it?”

I can’t help laughing, even as I raise an eyebrow. “Is that the smoothest line you have to seduce me?”

“If you haven’t figured out by now that I’m not exactly the Casanova of smooth lines, then you really haven’t been paying attention,” he replies.

I move closer to the bed, drawn by the gorgeous man now sprawled out naked, waiting for me.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he watches me approach.

My cock, which deflated during the interaction with our unexpected guest, is definitely stirring back to life.

I crawl onto the bed, hovering over Seb. “Well, I’ve always been a fan of method acting. Maybe we should fully commit to this nature appreciation.”

Seb’s hands slide up my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “I think that’s a very sound scientific approach. We should probably conduct multiple trials to ensure accuracy.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his nerdy attempt at dirty talk. “Multiple trials, huh? I like the way you think, Dr. Kleggs.”

His fingers thread through my hair, pulling me down for a kiss. It starts slow, almost tentative, as if we’re both still shaking off the awkwardness. But then Seb nips my bottom lip, and suddenly, the heat between us flares back to life.

I kiss down his neck, relishing the sounds he makes. A recording of the noises Seb makes during sex would be my favorite playlist ever.

“Marcus,” Seb breathes, his voice husky with want.

I pull back slightly, drinking in the sight of him: flushed cheeks, pupils dilated, lips slightly parted.

“Yes?” I murmur, my lips brushing against his collarbone.

His hips buck against mine, creating a delicious friction. “I think we should move on to the practical portion of this experiment.”

Another day passes in a blur of sun, swimming, and Seb. Then another.

And suddenly, it’s our last day at the resort. I have to fly back to Los Angeles first thing tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, my best-friend duties keep me at the bar later than I want.

Seb went to bed half an hour ago, and I was about to discreetly follow when Saskia insisted on a final round of karaoke.

I find myself checking my watch every few minutes, calculating how much of the time I have left with Seb is disappearing.

Saskia and I belt out the final notes of “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” The crowd erupts in cheers and wolf whistles, and someone even throws a tropical flower onto our makeshift stage.

Tom greets us with a grin when we return to the table. “I didn’t know I married a pop star.”

“Oh, honey,” Saskia says, patting his cheek, “there’s still so much for you to learn.”

Everyone’s laughing, but all I can think about is Seb waiting for me in his villa.

I stand up. “I better get my beauty sleep.”

“You can sleep on the plane,” Saskia says.

“I’m going straight to the set, and even Hollywood makeup magic has its limits.”

Saskia pouts. “It sucks not having you to play with.”

“You’ve got a new husband to play with,” I point out.

A grin creeps over her face. “Good point.”

“My airport shuttle is picking me up at five tomorrow morning, so I guess I better say goodbye now.”

She wraps her arms around me. “I’m going to miss you so much,”

I’ll miss her too. I’ve been friends with Saskia for over ten years now, and our friendship has always been the one point of consistency in my life.

“Miss you too,” I murmur into her hair.

“Thank you so much for coming.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It’s been an awesome week.”

She grins at me as she pulls away. “It has, hasn’t it?”

“It’s definitely been epic.”

Of course I can’t share with Saskia that the most epic part of my week is what I’ve been doing with her little brother.

And when I let myself into the back doors of Seb’s villa, epic doesn’t come even close to describing the scene in front of me.

It appears Seb has used the time waiting for me productively.

He’s lying sprawled on his back, wearing nothing but a mischievous grin and a strategically placed tropical leaf.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

“Oh, holy fuck.” I rip off my shirt.

Seb has obviously been a very busy boy because when I start to prep him, I find him already soft and pliant under my fingers.

Holy hell. That’s so hot.

I set a new land-speed record for how quickly I’m hovering over him, lining myself up, my hands shaking with anticipation.

I sink into Seb, and it’s like nothing else.

I appreciate it fully now.

Now that I know what it’s like to be without him.

This is supposed to be fun, last-night-together sex. Seb’s already set the tone, yet somehow, I can’t get the vibe right.

Instead, I’m kissing him like I’m devouring him. It’s desperation and passion and longing all mixed into one.

I try to relax, to calm the fuck down, but our kisses turn tender, slow, drugging as I move inside him, the world narrowing to just the two of us. I can feel every twitch, every shudder of Seb’s body.

Fuck. This is intimate in a way I’ve never had before.

Panic grasps at my chest.

I can’t handle this.

I pull out of him, my breaths coming in frantic gasps.

Seb props himself up on an elbow, his forehead creasing. “You okay?”

I try to summon a casual, nonchalant tone. “Yes, I’m fine. You want to go on top? About time you did some of the work.”

“Okay.”

I lie back, and Seb straddles me. He grins, but it fades as he sinks down onto me. His expression shifts to intense concentration, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

Holy fuck. Why did I think this position would be better?

I can’t take my eyes off him, and we’re locked in each other’s gazes.

He’s staring back like he really sees me.

And this is what gets me about Seb. I have people around me all the time. I’m constantly being watched, cameras following my every move, fans mobbing me, directors telling me who to be, stylists deciding how I should look.

But Seb makes me feel seen in a different way to everyone else.

The panicky feeling is back in my chest, but I don’t let it overtake me.

Instead, I watch this man set a slow, torturous pace as he rides me. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his eyes half-lidded, but he never breaks eye contact.

Seb’s watching me as I move inside him, and I feel exposed, like he can see right through me to all the parts I try to keep hidden. His gaze is tender, almost reverent.

I wonder if, like me, he’s trying to memorize every moment of this.

He feels incredible, all tight heat and perfect pressure. It’s like he was made for me, our bodies fitting together in a way that defies explanation.

And I know I’m not going to last, so I stroke him, my thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. I’m torn between wanting to draw this out forever and needing to see him fall apart above me.

His breathing turns even more ragged.

“Marcus.” My name on his lips is not a word but a groan as he comes all over my chest.

Fuck, seeing Seb’s face so awash with pleasure has my own balls clenching, and it’s the final push I need. I explode inside him, every nerve ending in my body lighting up like the Las Vegas strip.

Seb slumps forward, and my arms automatically encircle him, cradling him gently. I press a soft kiss to his temple.

For a moment, I let myself pretend this isn’t our last night together.

I pretend I don’t have to let him go in the morning.

Morning comes too quickly. My alarm shatters my peaceful cocoon of sleep, and I fumble for my phone, desperate to silence it before it wakes Seb.

It’s an utter fail.

Seb blinks at me blearily, that stubborn tuft of hair sticking up at the back like always.

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to pull away from him, to get out of bed.

As I pull on my clothes, the panicky feeling from last night is back in my chest.

How do I say goodbye to Seb?

He fumbles for his glasses, and there’s something vulnerable and hopeful on his face as he watches me pull on clothes.

Fuck.

One of the things I like most about Seb is his lack of pretense. But it also means I will know exactly how much I’ve hurt him if I screw this up.

And I desperately don’t want to hurt him.

I rake a hand through my hair before I push out the words. “We should stay in touch. When I’m back in New Zealand next, we could…catch up,” I say.

A smile slides up Seb’s face. “Catch up? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Okay, catching up properly might require us to get naked,” I say, and his grin widens.

I can’t help smiling back.

“So, you’re going to give me your new number, and you’ll reply to my messages?” He’s aiming for nonchalance, but I can hear the tension in his voice.

And even though I’m not the type of guy anyone should trust to keep a promise, I find myself making one to Seb now.

“I’ll definitely reply.”