OMG no way can I keep up the level of ‘whooo-hooo’ Bella gave yesterday…. I have a whole new view of undies now (until yesterday what I pictured were my teenage self’s Hello Kitty undies…).

Here’s a scene from Marc & James’ story for you (if you’re interested, check out the tag for more snippets)….

Voices surrounded James, clamoring for his attention in so many different languages it all melded together into an indecipherable mash of noise. He smiled and waved at them, lifted his guitar in his usual salute to the masses and fled for the back door. Five men in James-Bond suits waited there to guard his retreat. That had been his only true demand. He needed peace and quiet after his performances, always had, always would, and partying the night away with people who had more money than was good for them was not his idea of peace. So he’d mingled before the show, shook hands and signed champagne glasses for the hostess, all to keep the money man happy.

Finally, back to his suite at the hotel.  A drink, some food, and catching up on sleep, those where his priorities. He shouldn’t have agreed to this trip at all, but the package deal had been tempting, too tempting even for him to refuse.

So here he was, a New Year’s concert given at a private party in Singapore, city of hardly any seasons. It was winter at home, but here one could have walked outside in jeans and t-shirt, even if one wasn’t two whiskeys short of sober.

Marc would have liked it here. He’d been miserable in Washington last time they saw each other, shivering in his Everest-proof jacket. This type of weather should be right up his alley.

He lifted his hand to down the drink he’d poured himself and almost spilled it all over his shirt when someone knocked on the door to his suite.

That shouldn’t have been possible. There was a bodyguard in front of the door, another by the elevators and one more by the stairs, all with strict orders to leave him the hell alone. Never mind how depressing it was to be alone for New Year’s.

The knock came again and then the door knob actually moved. James debated hiding in the bathroom but the two whiskey’s he’d already drunk made facing the danger seem like the better option. Whatever it was – or whoever – had gotten past the bodyguards so it wasn’t like he’d be able to do anything about it. He downed the whiskey after all and closed his eyes. What a start to the new year.

“James, Sir!”

His eyes flew open at the sound of that oh so familiar voice. “Marc?”

There he was, a mirage, an apparition, wished into being perhaps by three whiskeys and a bucketload of concert-sourced adrenaline. Marc, his boy, his boyfriend, lover, love. James opened his arms, dropping the empty glass, and welcomed Marc into his embrace.

Hope you liked it!

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