Short Stay Read online

  “Too many people in Times Square. Plus, it’s cold.”

  “Then go to Disney World.”

  “Elijah will kick you in the shin when he hears you suggested that.”

  “For fuck’s sake. Pick something else. We live in a huge country. I imagine you could find a city with a hotel within driving distance where you can hide out from your mother and connect with Elijah. Somewhere that wouldn’t inspire him to roll his eyes.”

  Marius seriously underestimated Elijah’s ability to dismiss Baz’s ideas. “I’ll think about it. There’s got to be somewhere we could go.”

  He did think about it for the rest of the day and all through the night, lying awake as he wracked his brain trying to come up with the perfect place to take Elijah on a New Year’s Eve escape. When he realized he wasn’t going to sleep until he came up with something, he got out of bed, put his contacts back in and his lightest sunglasses on, and padded into the sitting room of their bedroom suite to fire up the computer.

  Even before he opened a browser, however, the glinting of the small Christmas tree his mother had put on a side table caught his eye. The lights, turning on and off, running in sequence. Multicolored, flashing lights, filling the space.

  The idea formed in Baz’s mind, expanding slowly. He let it bloom a moment, testing it out, kicking it around, looking for Elijah-sarcasm holes.

  When he couldn’t find any, he smiled and shut the computer. Then he went to his mother’s study to tell her the bad news.

  ELIJAH WASN’T ABLE to do as Mina suggested and talk to Baz about his fears, which he pretended was because there hadn’t been a good time. Truthfully, it was because he hadn’t quite found the nerve. He told himself he was working toward broaching the subject. Slowly. He had all the time he needed, right? They hadn’t set a date yet. He was nervous about something that was at this point theoretical.

  It was evening—Baz was downstairs with his mom, but Elijah didn’t want to make family small talk, so he caught up on his email and social media. He deleted some spam, and he had a flutter when he discovered a reader email praising him for one of his alter ego’s smutty short stories. He strolled through Facebook, missing Mina and Giles and Aaron and Lejla when he saw their posts and pictures from the holidays.

  He sifted through his friend requests—and found one from his cousin Penny.

  Elijah stared at the request for several seconds, certain it had to be a mistake. But it looked like her. He’d know her red curly hair anywhere, flying about as usual in her profile picture as if she were Merida from the Disney movie Brave. When he clicked on her profile, sure enough, he saw she was friends with his aunt, her mother, and several other family members.

  He hadn’t seen her in years. Her mother wasn’t the same kind of crazy as Elijah’s, but she was plenty severe. She’d kept Penny away from Elijah once he’d come out, and from the terrified way she’d stared at him, he’d assumed she’d been glad to be removed from his presence. Now she’d reached out to him on social media. Why?

  Elijah didn’t delete her request, but he didn’t accept it either, closing his laptop with the Facebook screen still open. It was late now, but he couldn’t sleep, so he went looking for Baz, deciding it would be better to let Gloria freak him out with her seven-layer plans than sit here and drive himself crazy trying to figure out why Penny had reached out to him.

  He found Baz in his mother’s sitting room, listening to his mom tell him about a private retreat perfect for the wedding.

  “It’s an island in the South Pacific. Exclusive, very remote.” She flipped a page in a promotional booklet. “Look at the beach. When have you seen something so charming?” She smiled at Elijah. “Come on, darling. Tell us what you think.”

  The beach was indeed beautiful. It was perfect, dotted with perfect people and perfect umbrellas and perfect little straw huts. “It’s nice.”

  “We’d rent out the whole island. Charter a plane to take the guests there. But you’ll have to let me know if you want to book—even with a small bribe under the table, the waiting list is intense.”

  “Sounds great, Mom. We’ll think about it and let you know. Wow. What a sunset.” Baz flipped through the booklet, pausing occasionally to show Elijah some amazing feature of the resort. He seemed excited and happy.

  Perfect. The perfect man for the perfect wedding at the perfect resort.

  Elijah swallowed his hysteria and did his best to play along. But he couldn’t fake it long, and he ended up right back in bed, doing his best to channel his anxiety attack into an internal meltdown no one else could see. He buried himself in the comforter, feigning sleep as he did his best to ignore the evil whispers telling him he didn’t belong on that island, didn’t belong with Baz. When Baz climbed under the covers himself and begun breathing the regular breaths of someone fast asleep, the whispers turned into low, grumbled shouts, and they came in the voice of Elijah’s father.

  You’re a worm, Elijah. You don’t belong with those people. You don’t belong with anyone.

  This horrible voice still ringing in his ears, Elijah escaped to the balcony, where he huddled in a thick bathrobe and wished he had cigarettes and a bottle of Xanax while his fears circled his brain like a pack of hyenas.

  He jumped as the sliding door opened behind him, and he tried to throw his mask up, but he forgot himself as he saw Baz had come out without his ever-present dark glasses. “What are you doing? You can’t be out here with naked eyes—what if someone flashes a light this way?”

  “They won’t, but I put my contacts in just in case.” Baz had brought the comforter with him, and he came up behind Elijah, wrapping the blanket around them both as he cuddled Elijah close. He kissed Elijah’s ear. “Missed you in bed. Thought I’d come join you.”

  Great, now Elijah felt guilty about that too. “I was about to come in,” he lied. “Was thinking about some stuff.”

  “Me too.” Baz ran his hands under Elijah’s robe and into the waistband of his pajama pants.

  Elijah shut his eyes and sank into the touch. Maybe he shouldn’t give into sex when he’d just been admitting he didn’t know if he had what it took to be a Barnett-Acker fiancé, but what could he say, he was weak. If Baz wanted to distract him with an orgasm, he was ready to be lured away from his terrifying thoughts. Whether or not he had any right to do so.

  But Baz didn’t take his seduction further than lazy touches and tender kisses, didn’t entice Elijah back to bed. He said, “Let’s run away to Vegas.”

  Elijah jerked, a hot thrill of terror laced with longing rushing his bloodstream. “I knew you didn’t want a long engagement, but I figured you could at least make it a month before you started suggesting we elope.”

  Baz stilled, shivering as he purred into Elijah’s neck. “I meant we should bail on the gala and make our own party in Sin City. Though now you’re putting all kinds of ideas in my head, baby.”

  “I’m not marrying you in some tacky chapel with a drunk Elvis officiating. Besides, your mother would punish us for the rest of our lives.” So would Mina and Lejla. And Walter and Kelly. And Aaron and Giles and Marius and Damien and Pastor Schulz—everyone, basically. Thinking about it made Elijah feel queasy about the wedding in a whole new way, actually.

  Baz shifted them so he could lean on the doorframe leading to the bedroom, still holding Elijah close. Baz shivered again, this time because of a sharp breeze. “Vegas would be warmer than here, for sure.”

  And it wouldn’t be full of wedding planners and Baz’s friends and family eager to get a peek at the scrawny, moody weirdo he’d brought home from the pound. Elijah began to wish the suggestion wasn’t a joke. “I thought we couldn’t get out of this New Year’s thing.”

  “You think this because it’s what my mother wants you to believe. We can do whatever we want. We’re adults. And I have a trust fund, and a car you drive very well.” He ran fingers idly down Elijah’s arm. “Besides, I’ve never been to Vegas. Was supposed to go with Marius and Damien a
few years ago, but it didn’t work out.”

  Elijah hadn’t been to Las Vegas either. He hadn’t thought about going much before, but now his imagination played him scenes of walking the brightly lit streets of the city as envisioned by Hollywood and television, draped on his sexy, rich boyfriend’s arm. It wasn’t a bad vision. Which didn’t explain why it still made him nervous. “I don’t think I’m much of the gambling type.”

  “Then you can cheer me on while I do. Or we’ll do something else. We could go dancing, see shows, find the party. Or make it.” The wind blew harder, and Baz pushed away from the wall, grabbing Elijah’s hand. “Come on. It’s too cold to stand out here. Let’s continue this discussion inside.”

  Elijah let Baz lead him into the suite and to the love seat facing the fireplace, where they tangled together beneath a blanket. “I can’t tell if you’re joking about Vegas or not.”

  “Honey, you know I’m always up for a wild hair. Especially if you’re along.”

  This sort of flattery was exactly what Elijah’s neurotic mess of a psyche needed, which was why he suspected it was nothing more than a line to get him out of the doldrums. “If we went, would we really go with just the two of us?” It would be unusual to be so alone with Baz. They lived in a virtual hive at the White House, and there were never any shortage of people at his parents’ place in Barrington Hills. “Can we get plane tickets on this short of notice around a holiday?”

  Baz made a face and shook his head. “Flying’s for chumps. We’ve got a Tesla.”

  “You expect me to drive us all the way to Las Vegas? Christ, would we make it by New Year’s?”

  “It’s only twenty-six hours of driving.”

  Elijah snorted. “Only.”

  “The Tesla has Autopilot now. You can practically take a nap the whole way.”

  That wasn’t how Autopilot worked, which Baz knew. Elijah had his mouth open to get snarky with his fiancé, then shut it and studied him. “Okay, this is the third time I’ve assumed we’d be flying somewhere and you had us driving. I mean, it’s not as if your family doesn’t have a garage full of cars I could drive us in, and staff to shuttle us around if we needed to go into the city. Now you want me to drive for more than a day straight instead of hop a two-hour flight. Why don’t you want to fly? Do you have some secret phobia I don’t know about? Because I’m not going to judge. I just want to know why we never fly.”

  Baz pursed his lips and focused on his lap. “Because it’s a real shitshow when I go through security for a commercial flight. All the metal plates in my body, plus the way I can’t take off my glasses? Forget it. If my family’s there, they pull rank or charter a private plane, but this will just be the two of us, and it’ll suck. When we went to Europe with choir, some asswipe security guy whipped off my glasses and almost sent me to the hospital from pain, but they thought I was putting on an act. Marcus, Damien, and I got arrested, and Nussy about did too, until my uncle called and got us out of airport jail. If I never have anything like that happen again, it’ll be fine with me.”

  Elijah could only imagine.

  Baz ruffled Elijah’s hair, easy smile sliding into place. “So how about it? You, me, and the open road. Leave in the morning?”

  In the morning? “You’re insane. You know this, right?” When Baz only waggled his eyebrows, Elijah shoved him lightly. “We’re not driving to Vegas. We’ll go to your mom’s thing. It’ll be fine. I won’t love it, but I’ll manage.”

  “You think I’m doing this because I want to bail you out? I don’t want to go to the party either. I’ve hardly had you to myself since we got engaged.”

  The idea of being able to engage in wild monkey sex without having to avoid Gloria Barnett-Acker’s gaze over the breakfast table or imagine the knowing looks from the Acker housekeeping staff had a certain appeal. “Why don’t we go into the city or something? Why do we have to drive to Vegas?”

  “Because it’s fucking Vegas. Come on. It’ll be great. I’ll get us one of those crazy suites you always see on TV. Don’t you want that? Live it up in the high roller suite? Get fucked in the high roller suite?”

  Elijah did, though he wouldn’t admit it. Well, he didn’t mind admitting it, but he wasn’t going to concede to that hellish drive just to get fucked…

  Okay, he maybe would. Definitely he would if it got him out of the New Year’s Eve party. He still wasn’t sure it was okay for them to skip, but even if it were, they had to face other issues. “Baz, unless my concept of geography is way off, which it might be, we have to go through the mountains to get to Vegas. In the snow. In winter. I don’t think I’ve got the balls.”

  “You don’t think so? I’d better check.” Baz pulled him sideways across his lap when Elijah tried to get away. Despite his struggles, Elijah somehow managed to land ass-up over Baz’s knees, pants halfway down his legs and bracing himself on the arm of the love seat while Baz clinically fondled his business. “No, these are the standard-issue balls, totally capable of driving through the Rocky Mountains. You’ll be fine.”

  Elijah reached around to swat him away but only managed to pitch farther forward. When a cool finger slipped toward his hole, he hissed. “You fucker, where the hell did you get lube?” When Baz didn’t answer, only teased the quivering ring, Elijah gritted his teeth. “Put it in. Put it the fuck in, and stop being a dick.”

  “If you don’t know the different between my index finger and my dick by now, sweetheart, we’re going to have ourselves a pointed conversation.” He pressed the tip into Elijah, resuming his maddening circles. “Tell me you’ll go to Vegas with me. Tomorrow.”

  Elijah was going to punch his fiancé in the face. But not until he got good and fucked. “Fine, but we’ll end up staying in Denver instead, because I’m not driving those mountains. Now finger me, goddamn it.”

  Baz went in a little farther, wiggled, and withdrew. “Vegas.” He licked the back of Elijah’s neck.

  Elijah dug his fingers into the arm of the couch. “How about we take a bus or a train?”

  “We’re taking the Tesla.” Baz’s finger slid partway in, then stayed there as Elijah flexed around it. “Say yes.”

  Fucking hell. Elijah pushed until Baz’s finger was buried to the hilt. “Yes. Now fuck me.”

  Baz did, but he took his time, clearly in one of his moods to turn Elijah into a quivering mess before he let him get off. His fingering job was thorough, but it was too slow, making Elijah feel deliciously filthy but horribly frustrated. When Baz spanked him a few times and told him to kneel on the bed, Elijah stripped out of his clothes and climbed onto the mattress, knees wide, ass aimed at his lover. Baz ate him out more slowly than he’d fingered him, pausing frequently to nuzzle his taint and whisper plans for Las Vegas orgies neither of them would ever have the guts to pull off. It was hot to pretend, though, and Elijah let himself be drawn into the fantasy. When Baz finally put him on his back and pushed his cock inside, Elijah was practically weeping. With one brush, he came, then gasped and shook as Baz finished in him, lazily smearing Elijah’s thigh with cum as they collapsed beside each other after.

  He knew it wouldn’t happen, this Vegas-getaway fantasy, but Elijah appreciated the distraction of the thought. He slept peacefully, no tossing or turning, dreaming of lights and laughter and Baz. In the morning, Elijah woke in Baz’s arms, the red light of his boyfriend’s bedroom burning gently around them.

  Baz, still not wearing his glasses and possibly not even his contacts, skimmed a hand over his shoulder. “Better get in the shower. Walter and Kelly will be here in about an hour.”

  Elijah stilled. “Why will they be over in an hour?”

  Baz looked amused as he climbed out of bed. “You said you couldn’t do the mountains, so I asked Walter if he wanted to take his husband on an all-expenses-paid, short-stay Vegas getaway.”

  Elijah’s mouth fell open. “You have to be joking. We’re actually going?”

  “Never more serious in my life. We were going to spend th
e holiday with them anyway, and they were as nuts with family as we are. Made the most sense. I’ve already broken the news to my mother.” Baz tugged the covers off Elijah and clapped his hands before reaching for his glasses. “Up. Into the shower. We leave in two hours.”

  Elijah stared after him, watching him go. Then he climbed out of bed, padded to the shower, and tried to wrap his head around the idea that he was about to drive to Vegas.

  With Baz.

  Chapter Two

  BAZ LOVED BEING in his car with Elijah.

  They’d never gone even half as far as Las Vegas, but that only made Baz more excited to take this trip with his fiancé. He loved the way the Tesla shut them off from the rest of the world as they watched the road expand before them, letting reality reduce to the two of them and the sexiest car he’d ever dreamed of owning. He almost didn’t care he’d never be able to drive it.

  He almost didn’t mind anything, so long as Elijah was with him.

  The trip would be fun, and it would also mean Baz didn’t have to watch Elijah freak out about the New Year’s Eve party or the wedding. Baz thought his Vegas getaway had solved the situation quite nicely. He’d excavated them from the situation entirely, the party and the planning both. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy. No more stress. Viva Las Vegas, via a grand road trip in the Tesla. It was nothing but good times ahead, with Elijah.

  He had the bonus, too, of spending most of the trip snuggling with Elijah in the backseat as Walter and Kelly took turns driving. It hadn’t been his first choice to bring the Davidsons along, but Elijah had a point about all that driving being too much for one person. The whole purpose of this wild hair had been to get his fiancé to relax, and having him stress out over the drive wasn’t going to do them any favors. It had been a long shot to ask, but Walter had a deep love of the Tesla, and his mother was on one of her difficult streaks, crashing after the holidays. Walter insisted he and Kelly were paying their way, but Baz was going to do his best to make sure they paid as little as possible.