The Athlete and the Aristocrat Read online

  They’d had dirtier sex, more active sex, but this slow tease, this exploration of sensation, seemed… more. Si was so intensely aware of Lucien, of his every reaction, of how he felt under Si’s hands, against his body, and by the time he finally rolled on a condom and pushed into his ass, the connection between them was so intense, he nearly came on the spot.

  From the way Lucien clenched around him, he wasn’t far off himself. Si’s body wanted so badly to pump, to thrust, to enjoy the hot clasp of Lucien’s ass around him until he came, satisfied, but he forced himself to go slow. To glide in and out. To fully appreciate every millimeter of friction, every nerve ending. To glory in the tight heat encasing him. He paused, savoring the sensation of Lucien around him, of the hot, damp skin of his back under Si’s palm. That glorious, velvety, golden skin. He bent his head and blew lightly, loving the way gooseflesh prickled and Lucien shivered.

  “Simon, Simon,” Lucien moaned, thrusting his ass back toward Si. “Please, more. Now. Harder.” The words were like tinder to a flame, and Si’s control broke.

  He thrust hard, and Lucien’s cry of triumph rang in his ears like music. What felt like hours but was more likely mere moments of thrusting later, Lucien came with a shout that probably disturbed the neighbors, his ass clenching around Si like a vise and pulling him over the edge. He collapsed against Lucien, barely maintaining the presence of mind to wrap his arms around him and roll them to their sides.

  For a long time they just lay there, panting. Si knew in some part of his brain that he should be trying to regain his faculties, but it just wasn’t happening.

  “You’re a tease,” Lucien finally said, his breathing still uneven. Si smiled.

  “Yeah.”

  Silence.

  “We should definitely do that again.”

  Chapter Nine

  LUCIEN sat back and listened to Simon and Tim bickering over who to approach to help them run the training camp, smirking slightly. The two were obviously old hands at arguing with each other, often knowing where a sentence was going before it was completed.

  It had taken him only a few minutes of conversation with Tim to know he was the perfect person to help Simon with screening applicants. He’d told him so, offering the job to the sound of Simon’s quickly cut-off victory yell.

  Since then, the two former athletes had seized the ball and run with it, so to speak. Paul had ordered in food, and over lunch the conversation had focused on what steps were next, and how to prioritize them. The press release was due to go out within twenty-four hours, and they were expecting requests for interviews from sports journalists shortly after—and if the requests didn’t come, Simon and Tim had some key contacts they could lean on to make them happen. But before those interviews, they needed names. Names of former athletes and football professionals to draw people to their mini training camp.

  Simon had spent the morning contacting people, and they already had an impressive list, but nobody that he was willing to hand over management of the camp’s training program to. Originally, he’d wanted to do it himself, but Lucien—backed up by Tim—had pointed out that during that time he would still need to manage On the Ball, as well as coordinate the camp overall and be available to any press that showed up. Somebody else was needed to run the programs and oversee the coaches. Tim had declined as soon as Simon had looked at him, before he even opened his mouth to ask, claiming he wasn’t bossy enough. That had led to twenty minutes of debate that Lucien wisely stayed out of.

  “Right then, that’s settled,” Simon said now, drawing Lucien’s wandering mind back to the table. “I’ll call him this afternoon. He’s a bloody good coach, and we’ll be lucky to have him. Are you sure he’s been bored since retirement?”

  “That’s the rumor,” Tim confirmed.

  Lucien glanced over at the notepad in front of Simon, saw the name written there, and smiled approvingly. He was indeed a good coach, and a high-profile one. He was also known for his charitable works, so it seemed likely he would agree, although Lucien and Léo had approved a small stipend for the camp manager.

  “All right, then. Gentlemen, I am afraid I must leave.” Lucien stood, and Simon glanced at his watch.

  “Crap, I hadn’t realized the time. Okay, we’ll just hammer out a few more details, and then I’ll take Tim to the airport.”

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lucien,” Tim said, standing and offering his hand. Lucien shook it warmly. “And thank you again for the job.”

  “That is my pleasure,” Lucien assured him. “And please remember that if you ever change your mind about the salary, there will be no hard feelings.” Tim had very generously waived a salary, claiming he had enough money invested from his football career to keep him comfortably, and that the funds would be better spent within the program. Lucien had reservations about that, but could not refuse such an offer—although he would ensure Tim’s employment contract covered all bases.

  Their discussion began again before he’d even left the meeting room, and he grinned as he headed for Paul’s office. He’d check in, then prepare for his next meeting, which sadly had nothing to do with football.

  It was quite a shock to walk into Paul’s office and find his father there. Usually Édouard stuck to his own offices on the top floor, mostly because employees had been known to become nervous if he wandered freely through the building. After the time a finance assistant had spilled a cup of scalding coffee over himself and his computer, resulting in a trip to the hospital for burns treatment—and a new computer—the executive team had decided it would be safer for any visit by Édouard to be planned and “leaked” well in advance.

  Lucien and Paul were an exception to this, of course, but still Édouard did not visit often, and when he did, it was usually in Lucien’s own office.

  “Lucien, there you are,” his father said, rising from the chair he’d been ensconced in while he read… was that the file Lucien needed for his next meeting?

  “Here I am,” Lucien affirmed. “As are you.”

  Édouard smirked. “Relax, son, I am not here to interfere—or send you back to Helsinki, although I believe it’s really rather pleasant there at this time of year. You weren’t in your office, and I knew Paul would know where I could find you.”

  Lucien shot Paul a grateful smile. Paul could indeed have directed his father down the hall to the meeting room he’d been in, but instead had allowed Lucien a few extra moments to enjoy his break.

  “Was there something you needed, or just the pleasure of my company?” he teased, and his father snorted a laugh.

  “Your mother would like ‘the pleasure of your company.’ She mentioned yesterday that she has not seen you for some time.”

  Lucien did a quick calculation and realized with some surprise that it had in fact been over two weeks since he’d last seen his mother. Usually he tried to see her at least once a week—it kept her from poking into his life.

  “I will have to rectify that immediately, won’t I?” he said, mentally running through his schedule. Breakfast the next morning was out of the question, since Simon was still staying with him, but lunch was a distinct possibility. “Thank you, Father.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, I’m still here.” There was a decided twinkle in Édouard’s eyes. “Tell me, how is the charity project coming?”

  Édouard’s personal interest in the project surprised Lucien. His father was generous to charities, but Lucien had never known him to show any interest beyond allocating funds.

  “Very well,” he replied, somewhat cautiously. “We have secured offices and hired staff. The press release goes out tomorrow, and we expect it to be well received.”

  “Excellent. And Mr. Wood? I hear he has been in the building the last few days, setting everyone aflutter.”

  A light clicked on. Édouard was fishing for information about Simon, probably as a result of what had happened in Monaco. “I don’t know about that, but he’s certainly here. I just left him a few moments ago.”
Lucien regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. His father’s face lit up.

  “Well, I should go and say hello! Where is he?”

  Lucien cast a desperate glance at Paul. “Er, he has someone with him, one of our employees, and they are due to leave shortly—”

  “Then I had best go now. Which room?”

  Lucien was considered one of the most astute and fast-thinking businessmen in Europe, but whenever he went up against his father, he was left feeling like a bumbling teenager. Unable to conceive of a reason not to, he told Édouard which meeting room, and then after he left, slumped into a chair.

  “Why does that always happen to me?” he asked, directing the question not so much at Paul as at the universe.

  Paul answered anyway. “Because he’s your father and all fathers have the ability to make us feel like children again. Here are the notes for your meeting.” He handed Lucien the file Édouard had been reading. Lucien took it and flipped through, not really seeing anything.

  “Thank you. Could you please make sure Simon and Tim are… not hijacked by my father for too long?”

  Paul only smiled.

  LUCIEN strode into his mother’s favorite bistro, five minutes late for their lunch date. The hostess recognized him and smiled in greeting.

  “Good afternoon, Monsieur Morel. Your mother is here already. Please follow me.” She led him across the room, inquiring politely how his morning had been. He answered just as politely, and then as she left wondered if maybe he should have asked about her morning.

  Damn Ben.

  “Hello, Mother.” He leaned down to kiss her, then took his seat.

  “Hello, Lucien.” The warm tone of her voice always made him feel loved. His parents weren’t like those he’d seen on television programs while growing up, always involved in every aspect of their children’s lives, but he’d never doubted that they loved him. “You have been busy lately.” The subtle remonstrance made him glance up from his menu and chuckle.

  “I apologize for neglecting you,” he said. “I have been very busy with a new project, but that is no reason to forget my loving mother.”

  She laughed, and waved a hand. “You have always been impudent.”

  He grinned at her. “So, what have you been up to?”

  As his mother updated him on the latest goings-on in her life—which took quite a while, since she’d always been extremely active socially—he scanned the menu and wondered idly how Simon was doing. He had been due to return to London this afternoon, but had decided to delay until they saw how the press release was received. After all, he might be needed in the office.

  Speaking of the press release…. Lucien glanced at his watch. It had now been sent out. They would know soon if they would need to pull strings to get the press coverage they wanted.

  “Lucien, are you listening?” his mother demanded, and Lucien blinked and focused on her.

  “Of course I am,” he told her, injecting just the right amount of indignation to his tone. Quickly, he thought back over what she’d been saying. Absorbing conversations without actively listening was a skill he’d inherited from his father, and one that drove his mother insane.

  She frowned prettily at him, trying to appear stern. “What has you so distracted?”

  The waiter appeared right then, giving Lucien a moment’s reprieve as they ordered drinks, but the moment the man left, he was once again in his mother’s sights.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I was thinking about the project I’ve been working on. It goes public today.”

  His mother lifted a brow. “The football one?”

  Lucien’s surprise was genuine. “Father told you about it?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Of course, months ago.”

  Another shock. “Well, that’s more than he told me.”

  “Perhaps he wanted it to be a surprise,” she suggested, tongue firmly in cheek, and Lucien laughed.

  “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Regardless, we’ve worked quite hard to get it up and running in such a short time, and I’m anxious to see what the response will be.”

  His mother reached across the table and took his hand, her eyes soft. “Lucien, if you have worked hard on it, it would not dare be anything but a success.”

  Once again, that feeling of being loved enveloped Lucien.

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  She patted his hand, then withdrew hers to her side of the table. “Now, tell me what is happening between you and Simon Wood.”

  Damn.

  He should have known she’d know.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, shrugging. “Simon is running this project—as I’m sure you know, since you seem to be so well-informed on the topic. He and I have worked closely the last few weeks, and will probably continue to do so until things are firmly established.” He took a sip from his water glass.

  His mother gave him the look, the one that had young socialites scurrying to do her bidding. When he’d been a child, that look had been enough to have him confessing all his sins. Even now he fought the urge to squirm.

  “I heard that he’s staying with you.” It wasn’t a question, but Lucien knew he was expected to respond nonetheless.

  “Yes. We’ve been working long hours, and we get along quite well. I didn’t see a need for him to take a hotel, not when there’s so much room in my apartment. He’s begun looking for an apartment, however.”

  The waiter approached just then to take their food order, and Lucien was glad for the reprieve, even if he knew his mother wouldn’t let it go.

  Sure enough, the moment they were alone again, she raised an eyebrow and said, “You have never invited any other business associates to stay with you.”

  He forced a smile. “I think Simon and I are friends, now. We have many common interests. Believe me, Mother, we both feel strongly that there can be no hint of impropriety regarding the Morel Corporation’s funding of this program.” There, that was suitably vague, but his mother should take the hint.

  Her gaze sharpened, and she took a sip from her wineglass. “Nobody who knows you would ever accuse you of impropriety in business, Lucien. But, I see your point. Now, tell me, how are Malik and Léo, and Léo’s charming boyfriend—Ben, isn’t it?”

  LUCIEN went directly from lunch to the On the Ball office. It would make him slightly late for a meeting, but he needed to take a few minutes to see how things were, if the press release had been a success.

  As he climbed the stairs—he could have taken the elevator, but he hadn’t had much opportunity to exercise lately and the stairs would do him good—he thought about how much his life had changed lately. He’d always loved his work, enjoyed the mental acrobatics needed to operate in the top tier of the business world, but each project, each challenge, had just been an exercise on paper, with the end goal merely profit. On the Ball was different. He felt different working on it—more excited, more energetic.

  Or maybe that was just working with Simon.

  Lucien sighed. He couldn’t deny it. Their relationship was supposed to be purely casual, just business and friendship, but it was becoming increasingly obvious to Lucien that his feelings for Simon weren’t casual. He’d suspected as much for several weeks, but had brushed off his instincts—after all, he hadn’t known Simon that long and most of their contact, with the exception of a few short visits, had been online or by phone. Nobody could form deep feelings that way. Could they?

  It seemed that it his case, he could. If his growing need to see or speak to Simon often hadn’t been enough of an indication, the stab of annoyance he’d felt when Simon told him he’d be looking for apartments in Paris was. Why did Simon need an apartment? He could stay with Lucien. Except wealthy adult men who were just friends didn’t share apartments. That was what boyfriends did.

  So… did he want to take that next step with Simon? It was so damn complicated, especially now, with the launch of On the Ball and the substantial financing the Morel Corporation
had contributed. If Lucien and Simon began publicly dating, they potentially opened the program up to negative publicity—because people were always looking for ways to find fault, even when there was none. On the other hand, if Lucien and Simon didn’t date publicly, Lucien was essentially consigning himself to living in the closet again—and worse, because his social position required him to attend certain events with a date, there would be a large element of deceit involved.

  He sighed again as he reach the correct floor. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he wanted to do something. Friends with benefits wasn’t going to be enough for him for much longer. Maybe he should just take a bold step.

  The phone was ringing as he stepped through the main door to the office. Anna had the receiver wedged between her shoulder and ear as she tapped away at her keyboard, and Lucien made a mental note to ensure she got a headset of some kind.

  Ten feet away, Michel was also on the phone, and through the door to Simon’s tiny office, Lucien could see that he, too, had a phone pressed to his ear.

  And yet the ringing continued.

  Should he… do something? Everybody was clearly busy. What should he do?

  Making a snap decision, he crossed the room to the desk that would be Tim’s when he was in the office, and swept up the handset of the phone there.

  “Hello—er—On the Ball,” he said, immediately wondering what he was supposed to do next. Fortunately, the caller was from a local newspaper, asking for an interview with Simon. He knew how to handle that, and shortly thereafter had taken the man’s details and assured him that Simon would call him back for a short phone interview.