Don't say I didn't warn you—because I literally did
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Don't say I didn't warn you—because I literally did
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It was supposed to be a peaceful night at a beachfront hotel, away from the hustle and bustle of the city and the pressures of responsibility. The luxury hotel, which had glass walls, had been specially commissioned by Gawin's father and came complete with a private pool overlooking a private beach. The waves gently lapped against the sand, creating a monotonous rhythm that would normally lull anyone to sleep.
But not tonight.
Not when Joss strode in with heavy steps and a tense face, phone in hand, having been on the line for an hour. Gawin recognised that expression immediately. It was the face his lover wore when bad news arrived. Or when his father's orders couldn't be refused.
"There's an urgent meeting," Joss said briefly, kissing Gawin's forehead before hastily buttoning his shirt.
Gawin looked up from the long sofa where he had been lying since the afternoon. He was wearing only Joss's thin, oversized T-shirt and satin shorts. His bodyguard's favourite smooth thighs stood out brightly in the warm glow of the hotel room lights. His legs dangled lazily over the back of the sofa; his hair was messy and his face was half buried in the pillow. He looked like a spoilt prince who had got too comfortable.
"It's a vacation, Joss. You promised"
Joss stood still, smoothing the collar of his newly worn black shirt with one hand. The shirt hugged his muscular frame, signalling that he was ready to get back to work. His professional demeanour returned instantly, as if their tender moments throughout the afternoon had been a fantasy.
Joss slowly approached, saying, "I know." He sighed, slipping a finger under Gawin's chin and forcing him to look at him.
"It's your father"
Gawin wanted to throw something. Anything. A phone? A pillow? Joss himself?
There's always an 'obligation'. There's always an 'order'. And, as always, Joss will choose his duty. Even when Gawin is right in front of him.
