Alex winked at Madam Ulyova as she set the table for dinner. The young man poured himself a glass of the sauvignon blanc, the bottle chilling for the first course of chicken parfait and melba toast. He could see the widow eyeing him up and shaking her head at his tight leather clad bottom, muttering about sins of the flesh. He was not planning on getting drunk, as inebriation by either alcohol or drugs was on his list of things not to indulge. The slight buzz and mellow edge of relaxation was as much as he ever achieved. The wine was crisp and dry, an excellent vintage from New Zealand. He normally only sipped the wine on offer and noted the difference in varieties and how they complimented the courses prepared by the two chefs. He had visited the wine cellar and talked to the chef and the housekeeper about wine, not that he had much of a palate. It was good that Maxim preferred simple food, nothing too rich or fancy; but more than mere calories and nutrition. The clock struck seven, Maxim was running late.
He should have written down a list of his concerns, he knew it was his own paranoia clouding the water, not any concrete threat from his lover. Maxim was not into power and control, well not in the bedroom anyway. Alex shuddered thinking about those sorts of games including restraint, pain and submission. No, he too was very on the vanilla side of the fence. He was not like Henry and Dave, who spoke of spicing things up a bit. Communication was the key to solving the reason behind his new babysitters.
Alex had done some serious inlay to the bottle of white wine before his lord and master made an appearance. The Russian shocked at his lover's dress and obvious inebriation.
Dressed like the whore he was, Alex smiled and tried to explain his problem. "You know I'm deeply flawed. I have issues a mile long. I don't talk much. I'm a world champion at bottling things up. So, why the babysitters Max? Have I done something wrong? Is there something bad going to happen? Or are you listening to those voices in your head saying its good so its all going to fuck up spectacularly?"
Max's expression darkened into a deep frown, but he remained silent.
"I get not articulating about emotions and stuff, but look at this from my point of view. I don't react well to incarceration. I don't want my home to become a prison and those bodyguards look awfully like jailers." Alex looked at his lover's hard, closed off body language. Alex decided to quote "Love is freedom and this is not love but possession. I'm yours, Max. You don't need to wrap me up in cotton wool and things would go really bad really quick if you try and chain me to your bed. You know I had fuck all in the way of TLC growing up, so why the guards now?"
The Russian sat down and poured out his own glass of wine, understanding that Alex had needed the liquid relaxation to articulate his fight or flight conundrum. It was a Mexican stand off as the first course of seafood in rose marie sauce was served. Neither diner ate. Since becoming the master of his own destiny, Maxim had never had to explain his actions to anyone. "You're safety is paramount to my security. I hired English personnel so you would not be so isolated."
Alex smiled as he was the master of denial and avoidance himself, he shrugged and began to eat.
Maxim was even more puzzled by Alex's apparent submission after clearly planning this confrontation.
As the first course plates were cleared and steak was served. Alex had gone through everything that had changed in the past few weeks and the only change being the fact Alex had received post from America, a very brief communication from Joe Canterbury. "So, I went to school with James Sprintz. In that class, there were the children of several well connected, prominent and superrich businessmen. I was only there for three weeks and I was only friendly with James. So the other kids included Paul Roscoe of Roscoe Industries, Communications and others, Dimitry Ivanov son of General Viktor Ivanov, also Hugo Vries, Nicholas Marc, Joe Canterbury, Cassian James and Tom McMorin; I only spoke to them briefly. I can assure you, I was not friends with the other guys; in fact I doubt I would recognise any of them now. Joe writing to me is completely out of the blue. In fact, I'll show you his letter."
Alex got up an retrieved the missive from his store of personal items.
'Dear Spyboy - Reduced to writing to you via snail mail. Come off it, its the twenty-first century, you have no social media. Here is my email, messaging, phone, blog, instagram, Skype and Facebook details.
All the other guys gave up trying to find you. Partly because James was very reluctant to rekindle your friendship. Good job at scaring him off. I got Maxim's details from his dad, Dieter and I just sent this to his home address. Write, mail, phone or message. Owe you everything. Joe. PS my parents are still dicks, lived with my grandma after liberation from Stalag Grief.'
Alex let Maxim read the letter. He pulled up Joe's blog on his phone, "Look at his blog, that guy is a serious anti globalisation and anti government protester. I talk to him and I'll get flagged up on several security databases as a person to watch. The kind of attention I actively avoid. I still think the Chinese won't give me a visa for your planned visit to Shanghai in June. I was thinking of talking to him next time we were Moscow on a burner phone."
"He is handsome." Maxim said softly, staring at the remains of his dinner.
"Yeah, his long hair is almost as impressive as mine was. I guess I looked like a freaking hippy when I arrived, but I had a phobia of barbers, I'm not into any save the anything anymore. Hell, Mine, pillage, destroy, that's fine by me. I dealt with bastards blackmailing and abusing me to take on nutters playing the thermonuclear global annihilation and biological warfare cards; you get just a tad jaded about humanity after those sorts of games." It was not like Alex even considering procreating. Best way of avoiding an unplanned pregnancy was not to fuck females in the first place. The young man relaxed, jealousy and the fact Joe was a seriously badass environmentalist had caused the change in priorities. "So, do you like my outfit. The girl in Paris assured me I looked smoking hot in it."
"It is indecent." Maxim said, but Alex could see he was now aroused.
"I bought it with you in mind. Do you get I like being owned. Its comfortable and safe, just being with you. If you need me to be babysat thats OK, but I do feel like pulling those guys chains, so if they leave don't be upset with me."
"Do you not like them?" The billionaire queried, wondering what had transpired on their first day on duty.
Alex chuckled "Only met two of them today. The youngest guy, well I've been pigeonholed as a fairy and nothing more to him. The older guy, well I think he has a tad too much empathy than is good for him. I'm not nice, I'm a paid killer and they need to understand that." Back in the mood to eat, the handsome blond smirked and asked "What's for dessert?"
…
Alex was extremely frustrated at the ill timed phone call. Maxim was sat naked at his desk, his laptop on and in full work mode as his lover watched from the bed. He was hard, horny and knew his partner was unlikely to return to bed. He should get up and retreat into the shower to wank himself off. His release no longer in the pursuit of a pleasure but a matter of necessity, as another day of work started at 4AM. He lay naked and pondered the snippets of conversation he could hear. Protesters in Irkutsk, trespassing at the main gas depot, TV coverage.
Tonight, he wanted to be selfish, he wanted Maxim to himself, no ever present staff, no background of bitchy gossip. The physical aspect of their relationship was so good, the older businessman was a superb lover, attentive to his partners pleasure, generous with touch and sensation not just penetration. Alex let his hands ghost over areas still sensitive from their foreplay, his nipples erect nubs, his lips and face fully sensitised by the light stubble burn, his arse still loose and lubricated from fingers, lips and tongue; not full fingering just loosening the ring of muscles. God he loved how Maxim got him worked up, to teeter on the edge of orgasm. Alex had been treated like a prince, only his cock had been neglected in anticipation of the final act of fucking. He rolled to reach over into the bedside cabinet and pulled out the sex toys, a large dildo shaped vibrator, lube and a plug.
The unsatisfied lover lubed up the dildo, pushing it slowly into himself welcoming the stretch and accompanying slight burn, gasping as it touched his prostate. He knew he was on display, in full view of the office through the open door. Alex smiled when he heard Maxim stutter mid sentence as he saw what his unsated lover was doing.
Closing his eyes, the blond lithe young man rode the waves of pleasure as the plastic toy pulsated inside him. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. Even though he was fully hard he knew the toy alone would not suffice. He swapped hands and his right hand encircled his cock to bring himself off, only to be stopped by the familiarity of Maxim's large muscled hands. He bit back and whining as the toy was removed, but his partner urged him onto his hands and knees and then Alex filled by Maxim's large rock hard erection and the older man fucked him like they had been parted for weeks.
Maxim was out of breath when he finally spoke, his softening cock still inside his lover; "You are mine, Sasha. I hate the fact others look at you. Everyday I fight the urge to keep you safe here, but then I think of how much fun it is to wine and dine with you, go to the ballet or opera with you; even boring meetings are enlivened by your presence ". The older man kissed Alex possessively before he moved to lay down on the side of his lover, his fingers running up and down Alex's arse, and back, smearing the leaking semen onto unblemished flesh. He then reached over and sucked at the muscled shoulder leaving a dark love bite. He then bit the raised flesh of Alex's burn scars. "No rest today, come shower with me, then we can plan out trip to Moscow. The Department of Interior Affairs can try to withdraw our licences for the planned pipeline to our new exploration sites. A waste of money pandering to protesters. The area was covered waste from uranium mining before the forest reestablished itself in the 1980s. There was no reinstatement or cleaning up under the soviets. Half the route is radioactive."
Alex picked up the butt plug and handed it to Maxim, and smiled at his evil, wanton thoughts "if I wear that all day, you can fuck me in the car as soon as its over. Think about being balls deep in me as we go though security leaving the Kremlin?"
The Russian shook his head and dryly commented "Thinking of such depraved things is probably breaking several laws, doing it is treason. Our president is not known for openness or understanding."
…
Alex looked at the security plan of action. He frowned as his rota stated old man Roy was meant to be his babysitter, but that had been changed to macho man Nick. His assassin trained instincts had him on alert. "What's up with the old man today, Anatoli?"
"Been vomiting all night, food poisoning. Off work for two days, doctors orders."
They all ate the same food and no one else was ill, it had to be a Mickey Finn. Alex went to Anatoli and whispered "High alert, OK. I have a funny feeling that things might go spectacularly wrong."
The Russian watched as the new Englishman arrived and then ignored everyone, even his mark. Hand signals passed between the three ex-Spetsnaz operatives making up these security detail to be on high alert. Travelling was a military operation in itself with two helicopters to the airstrip then the private jet to Moscow with two armoured cars to the Kremlin. Alex's uneasiness was just paranoia. The new guy was not part of some Machiavellian plot as Maxim's people had checked him out, it was just Roy being sick nothing more. His instincts were screaming that today was going to go bad, hopefully only in a business sense, not people dying. All the other guys had families waiting for them. He refused to contemplate Max dying, not on his watch.