All the Way to Shore Read online

  And he proceeded to do just that—many more times before exhaustion took over.

  JONATHAN LAY with his arms around Marco, who’d fallen into a light sleep, and stared out at the darkness beyond the stateroom windows. He felt the wave pendant against his bare chest and peeked down at the one on Marco’s. Marco Pellegrini. His lover. His… life partner? Jonathan hoped so. Despite their several mind-blowing orgasms and the sweet way they’d clung to each other afterward, now that Jonathan was alone with his thoughts, things seemed cloudy. The certainty he’d felt about their epic connection was beginning to falter.

  His eyes fell on the outline of the desk in the dim light, and he remembered the faxes from Vallen Industries—almost certainly from Frederick Vallen himself, the world’s most driven boss. Thinking about Father was enough to drain all certainty out of Jonathan. Father would view his bond with Marco with withering contempt. Jonathan could just see him growing purple with rage. God. How Marco had survived a year with him, Jonathan didn’t know. It was a testament to Marco’s strength that he’d not only survived but managed to turn the company around.

  Not wanting to waste any more time thinking about Father, Jonathan considered the man in his arms, still amazed at his good fortune. Marco Pellegrini was nothing short of magnificent. And this magnificent man had chosen him—Jonathan Vallen. Jonah Rutledge, you mean, whispered his doubting voice, but Jonathan pushed the doubts away. He was ready to reveal his real self to Marco. The prince had chosen Cinderella in the end, hadn’t he? Because she alone had managed to capture his heart. Jonathan glanced down his legs to his feet. It would have to be a pretty big glass slipper to fit one of those, so it was good he didn’t have to pass that test. He told himself to stop messing around and think.

  Tomorrow was their last day at sea, and also New Year’s Eve. A sudden memory of last New Year’s Eve came to him, when he’d toasted his new life on the Cape with champagne and harpsichord music. He’d imagined having a dog and a man by the next New Year. He had the dog, and now it seemed he had the man. Jonathan was going to ring in this New Year with not just any man, but the most incredible man he’d ever met. The ship was hosting a formal gala, and Jonathan couldn’t wait to see Marco in a tux.

  Staring at the desk again, Jonathan shifted as he remembered the other part of last New Year’s Eve—the phone call with Father, who’d berated him and made him feel worthless. He wasn’t that person anymore, he told himself. That person would never have snagged Marco as a lover. Jonathan had worked so hard to reinvent himself, and now he was reaping the rewards. “I deserve this,” he whispered.

  He decided to tell Marco on New Year’s Day, when they had their last shore stop on Key West. He’d take him to lunch in some little café and tell him the truth. They’d still have time to talk and work things out before getting back to Ft. Lauderdale. Jonathan’s stomach churned. God, what if Marco didn’t forgive him? What if he left him? He didn’t notice his arms tightening around Marco’s sleeping form until Marco mumbled a sound of protest. Relax, doll, Anthony said in his head. It’ll all work out. Deciding to grasp Anthony’s words of hope, flimsy though they were, Jonathan closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  MARCO’S JOURNAL

  UP EARLY and thought I’d get some work done before Jonah wakes up. Jonah. My love. Amore mio. I don’t know what else to say that doesn’t sound completely gooey. He’s beautiful. He felt so good to hold and give pleasure to. Sex with him is definitely not something to check off the To Do list. I have a feeling it could go on for hours. Today I’m going to test that theory. Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and we’re about to step into a new year and a new life. We got matching pendants. That’s how serious this is.

  Speaking of a new life, I can’t wait to quit Vallen Industries, just to get Frederick Vallen off my ass. The bastard keeps sending faxes to the ship! Like there’s anything I can do about the current crisis until I get back. I’ll fax back a few memos that summarize our position, and he can deal with it.

  Gratitude: Wow. Where do I begin? It begins and ends with Jonah Rutledge coming into my life. Thank God for this cruise, and for the beauty of the ocean, and for Jonah. Amen.

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  MARCO WAS tying his bow tie when he heard a soft knock at his door. After a quick glance to make sure he’d remembered to straighten out the bed that he and Jonah had occupied most of the day, he pulled it open. Sophia stood on the other side in a crimson evening gown, leaning on her crutches and beaming at him.

  “Sorella! Come in, come in. How lovely you are!”

  She hobbled in, and he kissed her cheek. “You look great too, big brother. Red is so festive for your tie.”

  “You seem well. Dr. Parson appears to be good medicine.” He grinned at her.

  “You should talk. You’re glowing, or is that beard burn from a certain Jonah Rutledge?”

  “Ha. We both seem to be doing all right for ourselves. But come, sit down and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  Sophia made her way over to the arm chair. Marco helped her sit, then collected her crutches and set them to one side. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Just water for now. I’ve been having a very relaxing time of it. Melanie’s quarters are comfy, and she has TV, Internet, and a bunch of books. She was at the clinic part of each day, so I just took it easy.”

  Marco handed her a glass. “And when she got back? She took care of you?” Marco laced his voice with innuendo.

  Sophia laughed. “Did she ever.”

  “Nice. What about after the cruise? She keeps working for the cruise line, yes?”

  “Yes. She does have some vacation coming up in the spring, and we plan to stay in touch.” She set down the glass. “But enough about me. You’re the one with the big love affair going on. Tell me about Jonah.”

  Marco scratched his neck absently and felt the leather cord of their shared pendant. “He’s the one, sis. The one I never knew I wanted.”

  “Oh, Marco. I’m so happy for you.” She clasped her hands around one knee. “Tell me everything.”

  “Everything? He makes me feel complete. Like I don’t have to go through life without someone to love. He’s the guy Mama always hoped I’d find. I just wish she was alive so I could bring him home to her.”

  Sophia wiped her eyes. “That’s beautiful. But, Marco….” She chewed at her bottom lip.

  “What?” He had a good idea of what she was about to say.

  “You’ve never really been out as bisexual. I thought you needed to hide it because of business. Are things going to change?”

  “Yes.”

  Sophia reared back, eyebrows raised. “Just like that, eh?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He gazed out at the ocean with a small smile. “I’ve never met anyone I wanted to change the status quo for. Now I have.”

  “Eeee, this is the ultimate!” She clapped her hands. “I knew we were gonna have fun on this cruise, but I never thought I’d see you get serious about someone. It’s about time, fratello.”

  “Yes, it is. The only thing is, I think he’s hiding something.”

  “Hiding? What do you mean?”

  Marco shifted in the chair as he thought about it. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I get, and you know me and my feelings. I’m sure it’s nothing too bad, but it’s something that makes him feel bad about himself. I hope he’ll be able to share it with me.”

  “Yes, I hope so. You’ve been through so much yourself, there’s probably nothing Jonah could say that would shock you.”

  “You’re right. I’m not going to worry about it. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.” Marco wished he was as sure of that as he sounded.

  Sophia put down her glass. “I can’t believe it’s almost 2016. What a year it’s been, brother dear.”

  “It’s certainly been an interesting one. Well, are you ready to go to the ball, princess?” Marco got up and offered her the crutches and his arm. “Melanie meeting you there?”

  “Yes. How
about Jonah?”

  “The same. Come along. Our chariot awaits.”

  She giggled. “Silly.”

  “JONNY, THAT tux is to die for! I’m glad I made you order the green cummerbund.” Anthony, a vision himself in a purple tuxedo, looked Jonathan over. “Your prince is going to have a hot flash when he sees you.”

  Jonathan laughed. “What are you saying? Marco’s a menopausal woman?” He inserted his cuff link and fastened it. “He’s hot, though.” A smile played around the corners of his mouth as he recalled making love with Marco for hours.

  “Oh my God, you’re thinking about all the sex you had with him, right? I can tell you’re going to be impossible to live with from now on. Just because you’re getting it on with the most attractive man on the ship, you don’t have to be so smug!”

  “Sorry. But it’s not as if you struck out or anything. How’s it going with Todd?”

  Anthony made a face. “He’s sweet, but way too young for me. And energetic? My Lord—he wanted to do a four-way with these other two twinks, and I probably would have had a heart attack! Two days with him and I reached my limit. I’m getting too old for these games, Jonny.”

  “Oh well, you had fun, though. Right?”

  “Of course!” Anthony’s eyes sparkled. “And I plan to have a ball at our New Year’s Eve party tonight. I’m sure I’ll be kissing someone at midnight, don’t you worry about that!”

  “I never worry about you, Tony.”

  “Should I worry about you, Jonny? Everything is going so spectacularly for you that your little saboteur must be itching to screw it up.”

  Jonathan opened his mouth to protest but then closed it. Anthony was often annoying but also often right about Jonathan, whose failures and struggles he’d had occasion to study all their lives. “I’m trying not to let my sabotaging tendencies run away with me.”

  “I know you are.” Anthony sat on the edge of the bed. “When are you going to tell him?” His voice was quiet, sympathetic.

  “Oh, now you think I should tell him? You’re the one who told me to enjoy the fairy tale.” Jonathan heard the bitterness in his voice and started to pace. It wasn’t right to blame Anthony for his own cowardice. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

  “But it is, doll. I was just playing games, enjoying a romantic fantasy when I said all that crap about fairy tales. I never imagined you’d fall in love with him for real! And he seems just as serious about you.” Anthony heaved a sigh. “I hope it doesn’t all fall to shit.”

  “I…. What’s done is done. All I need to do now is make it right. Tell him the truth—and hope what we have is strong enough.” He came to a stop in front of Anthony, whose face was full of concern. “I’m going to tell him tomorrow. Tonight is for fantasies, right? We’ll go to the ball, and I get to kiss the prince.”

  Anthony rose and gave him a quick hug. “Amen to that, Jonny. And just so you know, I’m still a big believer in happy endings.”

  Chapter FOURTEEN

  MUSIC SWIRLED and thumped as the colorful crowd celebrated the last few minutes of 2015. The big room teemed with revelers wearing hats and blowing horns, even though midnight hadn’t yet come. Marco smiled at Jonah hopping around trying to keep up with Andy, who was wearing a tiara that spelled out 2016 in rhinestones. The small group of outrageous guys they were dancing with included Todd, but Andy didn’t seem to be sticking to him, if his current sexy bump and grind with a stunning black guy was any indication. Jonah weaved through the dancers and returned to lean on Marco, groping his ass as he did so. His face glowed, flushed and happy, and his blue eyes sparkled.

  “Someone’s having a good time.” Marco smiled at Jonah’s goofy grin and kissed him, tasting the salt of his sweat.

  Making a humming sound, Jonah answered with a filthy kiss involving plenty of tongue. Fuck. Marco was just biding his time until they rang in the New Year and could get back to the stateroom.

  “Happy?” he asked Jonah when they broke for breath.

  “Ecstatic.” Jonah kissed him again, then reeled back so much Marco caught his arm. “Oops. And kind of drunk.” He ran his hand up Marco’s chest. “My prince.”

  Marco chuckled. “Prince? Hardly.” A drunk Jonah amused Marco—the dorky dancing and the funny things he said, the reddened cheeks and the wanton openness of his glances that seemed to be telegraphing come fuck me with more and more fervor as the night wore on. He was delicious—and hard to resist. So Marco was glad he didn’t have to.

  As the band started playing Prince’s “1999,” Marco checked the clock, wanting to ring in the New Year with the two people he cared about most. He caressed Jonah’s hair. “Let’s go to the table and be with Sophia for midnight.”

  Jonah raised his head. “Yes! Lemme get Anthony… uh, Andy. Whatever his name is.” He pulled away and made for the dance floor, calling, “Anthony! Andy! Andony! Tony Tiger! Get over here!”

  Marco shook his head, still amused. His sweet Jonah was very much in his cups tonight, but Marco didn’t mind. He’d take care of him.

  Jonah started back, pulling a protesting Andrew, who said something to Jonah and darted back to grab the sexy black guy. Then they all came over. Marco consulted the lit-up clock on the wall again. Two minutes.

  “Thanks for doing the countdown with my sister, guys. Come on, she’s right over there.”

  Sophia sat a short way away at a table next to an open window looking out at the dark water. Melanie was returning with a bottle of champagne and some glasses. Sophia brightened when she saw Marco. “There you are! I asked Melanie to get extra glasses in case you and Jonah came over.”

  Andy said, “Be right back,” and ran off, presumably to snag more glasses, while his companion introduced himself to them as Franklin.

  At a minute to, Andy ran back with another bottle of champagne and two more glasses, and he and Marco busied themselves with pouring and distributing.

  Jonah had flopped into a chair and laid his head on Sophia’s sturdy shoulder while he gazed at Marco with a happy grin. “I love New Year’s! I love being with my prince! Isn’t he the best prince ever?”

  “Here.” Marco handed him a glass. “You’re the best drunk ever. I love being with you too.”

  “I love you!” Jonah widened his eyes. “Oops. Not s’posed to say that.”

  Andrew uttered what sounded like a nervous laugh and held his hand out to Jonah. “Hey, cousin, stand up. You have to be ready to kiss your pr—um, Marco at midnight, right?” He hauled Jonah to standing, and Jonah immediately plastered himself to Marco’s side. “Okay, okay! Everybody have your glasses?”

  Marco tightened his arm around Jonah, who gave him an adoring gaze that was breathtaking in its dorky cuteness. They raised their glasses, Jonah sploshing champagne over the rim rather badly.

  “Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

  The band swung into “Auld Lang Syne” and fireworks lit up the sky, shot from the ship’s bow. Setting their glasses down, Marco pulled Jonah close. “Happy New Year, baby.” He settled his mouth over Jonah’s, who opened up and let him in. A wave of love welled up, and Marco’s eyes prickled with sudden tears. Not near drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol, Marco pulled away to say what was burning him up inside.

  “I love you, Jonah. Ti amo. I never knew what it was before—love, I mean. But now I do.”

  Jonah stared at him, eyes huge. He seemed to be struggling with something, and a flicker of sadness crossed his face before he gave Marco a sweet smile. “I love you too, Marco. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget you or this week.”

  “That sounds almost ominous,” Marco said lightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I hope not.” Jonah hugged him so tightly that Marco had a hard time catching a breath. “Can we get out of here now?”

  “Gladly.”

  MARCO PULLED Jonah to him, buried his nose in Jonah’s sweaty neck, and took a deep sniff. Ahhh. That s
weet Jonah smell undid him every time. Jonah clung to him like a baby marsupial to its mama—so tightly Marco had a hard time pulling back so he could get the rest of Jonah’s clothes off.

  They’d finally made it to the stateroom, Marco half dragging a very handsy Jonah who’d insisted on stopping every few yards to plaster himself to Marco for a filthy kiss. Much as Marco loved uninhibited Jonah, he far preferred private to public sex, so he’d kept bearing Jonah steadily along in between their kissing stops, laughing at Jonah’s attempts to climb him each time he’d pushed Marco against the hallway wall to make out.

  Now, though, after shedding their jackets and bow ties, the torrid groping had calmed into a warm embrace. Jonah the sex tiger had turned into a kitten. It seemed all he wanted to do was hug and bury his face in Marco’s shoulder. Another rush of unreasoning affection hit Marco, and he stopped trying to move things along in any efficient manner. Efficient? Hah! Love wasn’t all that efficient, Marco was discovering. Renewing, yes. Intoxicating. Baffling at times. Just like Jonah Rutledge himself.

  “Hey, gattino mio,” he whispered to Jonah, who raised his head, eyes storm-cloud blue.

  “Gattino?”

  “Little kitten.”

  “You and your cats.” Jonah smiled, but his eyes still looked troubled.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Kiss me.”

  Marco forgot his concern as he met Jonah’s lips in a bruising kiss. His mouth sealed over Jonah’s, Marco went for his buttons. Then his fingers hit the metal studs and fumbled. Damn formal wear. And they were both still wearing cuff links. Marco gave up and gave himself over to the feeling of Jonah’s tongue deep in his mouth, questing and stroking. Jonah ripped Marco’s shirttails out of his tuxedo pants and ran his hands up Marco’s sides, then rubbed Marco’s nipples into aching stiffness. Stifling a groan, Marco pulled his mouth from Jonah’s to gasp out, “Shirts, pants—off!”