Page 60 of Stand By Me

Finally, the time had come. He left the office quickly and as he walked through the corridors, he caught glimpses of the gala preparations but, unfortunately, no Clay.

Then, when Mario was almost by the exit door, he saw him.

Clay was standing in a group of other guys in formal wear, but Mario didn't care about any of them. What he cared about was Clay and how good—how absolutely drop-deadgorgeous—he looked in his tuxedo.

Mario had thought he'd be prepared, after regularly seeing Clay in suits, but no. Definitely not.

He didn't realize that he'd paused in his tracks completely until he heard Andie's laugh next to him. Before he could turn to her, though, the group of men dispersed and Clay glanced up, meeting his gaze right away.

Mario wasn't going anywhere now.

He wasn't even sure he could if he tried, since apparently the "weak at the knees" expression was more literal than he'd thought.

Then Clay started walking towards him and, somehow, Mario found himself meeting him half-way, dragging him behind the gigantic roll-up banner, away from view.

"Hello to you, too," Clay teased but Mario simply stared, trying and failing to take this absolutevisionin.

"No, you don't understand." He raised his hands to run them over the lapels, but he hesitated right before he was about to touch. "You look. God."

Clay leaned closer, the movement enough for Mario's hands to land when he desperately wanted them to. The smooth texture of satin under his palms was nothing compared to what he'd thought about the body underneath it.

"I'm glad you approve," Clay murmured right against his ear, and Mario shivered, closing his eyes.

They were in public. Anyone could appear any moment now and—

And he didn't care.

He tilted his head and caught Clay's lips in a kiss that should've been a peck, a brief hello, but Mario couldn't help himself. He licked into Clay's mouth, drew his teeth along Clay's lower lip, and did his best to convey all his frustrated desires in those thirty second he allowed himself to have.

Judging from the strength of Clay's grip on Mario's hips and the way Clay's gaze immediately dropped to his mouth when they parted, he definitely got Mario's message loud and clear.

"The things I'd do to you if we were alone," Clay whispered before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Mario barely resisted the urge to drag him somewhere private and demand he did all those things to Mario's more-than-willing bodyright now.

Sadly, only one of them wasn't on the clock anymore.

"Tomorrow," Clay told him, and it sounded both like a promise to Mario and a way to convince himself to pull back.

They stepped away from each other and Mario shoved his hands in his pockets in order not to reach out again.

He nodded. "Tomorrow."

Watching Clay walk away was a particular kind of torture.

Tomorrow. Mario could make it this far.

But no longer.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As it turned out, securing political galas was like riding a bike. He'd done enough of them back in the Secret Service to have a feel of them down pat.

Which was good, because after the emotional roller coaster from yesterday, he wastryingto be at his best but felt far from it.

"We've got this." Martinez clapped him on the shoulder as they met up in the middle of the evening for a quick sit-rep. "Relax a bit before steam comes out of your ears, would you?"

The man talked a big game but didn't seem particularly relaxed himself. On the job, Martinez was far from the happy go-lucky guy Clay had gotten used to. He was focused and mostly quiet, offering bits of colorful commentary on some of the guests merely a few times throughout the night on the private comm channel with Clay and Eddie.

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