Max - Bey Deckard Page 0,42

could hardly breathe. Then he laughed—Max was pranking him, obviously.

Ha ha, he wrote back. It had been weeks since Max had even mentioned this imaginary friend of his.

“Monsieur?”

Crane realized that he was at the head of the line. He put the bottles down on the counter. When he had finished paying and saw that Max hadn’t answered, he couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved. Brow furrowed, he exited the store and rejoined the throngs on the sidewalk, heading back to Max’s waterfront condo.

Max stared at him unblinking for a few moments, frozen in place. It was like someone had hit pause and it was a little unsettling. Then Max’s lips curved up, and he laughed, but the amusement was slow to reach his eyes.

“Of course it was me fucking with you,” he said, answering Crane’s question. “What? Do you think Eddie’s a real person?” He chuckled and shook his head, like he thought Crane was an idiot.

Crane gritted his teeth. He watched Max dump the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and rummage through it, his forehead wrinkled in thought.

“You know, I might as well tell you the truth,” Max said airily, finding the bottle of rum. He smiled at it appreciatively before glancing over at Crane. “I made Eddie up just to fuck with you at the beginning. To make things interesting.”

“Uh-huh?” Crane said, his doubt clear.

“Yeah.”

“Then why did you message me earlier? Hm? Why are you telling me the ‘truth’ now?”

Sighing dramatically, Max rolled his eyes. “You know it’s tedious being your boyfriend,” he said, dodging the question. It was unlike him—usually there was a method to his madness.

“Partner,” Crane corrected him.

“That sounds like we play tennis together,” Max complained, and then his grin got cheeky. “So I am your boyfriend! You’ve put some real thought into this, hm? Oh my stars and garters, you’re finally coming around! Dr. Dennis Crane, you do surprise me.”

Crane swatted at Max as he stared up at him adoringly, but Max dodged out of the way. Crane chuckled and caught Max by the wrist before he escaped and turned him around to tug his boxers down and deliver a good smack to his already bruised rear.

Yelping, Max struggled in his grasp. “Ow! You fiend. I’m going to drop the rum!”

Crane released Max, smirking.

Max pulled his boxers back up and stood rubbing his ass, sulking for a moment before finding two relatively clean glasses. He poured a measure of the dark rum in each and held out a glass to Crane.

“Let’s drink to our partnership, shall we?” Max said, touching the rim of his glass lightly to Crane’s. “And to the end of Eddie. I promise that you’ll never hear from ‘him’ again, okay?”

Crane nodded and took a sip, the rum almost syrupy and smoother than he remembered. Maybe he was getting a taste for it.

Max downed his glass and went looking through the shopping bags again. He pulled out the tomatoes and lifted an eyebrow.

“I thought I’d make us spaghetti tonight,” Crane explained.

“You’re going to cook for me?” Max murmured, his eyes wide.

His amazement looked real enough that it caused Crane to flush a little in embarrassment. “What? I’m just tired of eating takeout,” he said, shrugging. He drank more rum and glowered at the stack of dirty dishes and food containers. “And… Things are going to have to change around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a fucking pigsty, Max. Look around you.”

Max made a show of glancing around and lifted his hands in bewilderment. “So?”

“So, if you want me to cook for you, you’re going to spend the afternoon cleaning up. Starting with the kitchen.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Max barked, giving Crane an exaggerated salute. Then he chuckled and lifted his drink to his mouth, but Crane snatched it from him before he could take a sip.

“I’m serious.”

“Gimme that back!”

“After you’ve cleaned.”

“What? You’re really serious? You want me to clean?”

Crane put both the glasses down on the counter and reached for Max, gripping him hard around his bicep. Max’s eyes were locked on Crane’s, but he made no move to resist when Crane grabbed the front of his boxers and yanked them down again. Crane leaned forward, bringing his face close to Max’s. He cupped Max’s testicles and limp cock, squeezing slowly until he gasped in pain.

“Yes, you’re going to clean every inch of this kitchen. You’re going to make it sparkle.”

Wincing, Max clutched at Crane’s wrist, nodding quickly as Crane crushed his soft parts. Crane narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding