Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

it when you do this,” he told Zane with relish, his voice a bare whisper as he tried to catch his breath.
    “This?” Zane purred against Ty’s ear as he pressed his body against Ty’s from chest to thigh, heated bare skin catching and skipping instead of sliding. He deliberately dragged one hand down Ty’s side toward his shorts.
    Ty shook his head, fighting the grin as he let his fingers slide down Zane’s face. “I believe you were growling,” he corrected. He wrapped his arms loosely around his lover’s neck and tilted his head up, silently requesting a kiss.
    Zane’s response started as a hum in his chest and built to the requested growl as he dipped his chin and pushed his lips firmly against Ty’s just as his palm cupped behind Ty’s thigh to hitch him closer. If Ty didn’t know better, he’d think Zane planned to fuck him right there in the hallway. When Zane growled again, dropped the towel, and slid his other hand under the fabric of Ty’s shorts to cup his ass, Ty suddenly wasn’t so sure he really did know better.
    Zane had just dragged his tongue along Ty’s lower lip when Ty heard someone very close by clear his throat. He jerked back in alarm as Zane’s hands abruptly tightened on him, and Ty banged the back of his head against the wall. It was a knee-jerk reaction to being caught Ty was pretty sure he’d never get over. He didn’t like being surprised.
    A man stood in the middle of the corridor looking into the stairwell, watching them passively. It was the same man Ty had seen observing them outside. He was quite striking up close. His hair was dark and curly at the ends, cut just above his shoulders and slicked back, with hints of gray at the temples and along his hairline. His stylish goatee was carefully maintained, hiding the hard lines of his lips. He held his expensive sunglasses in his hand now as he looked at Ty and Zane in bemusement. His eyes were a deep mahogany, a beautiful color, but cold and emotionless. The steel gray bathing shorts he wore just intensified that effect.
    Zane straightened to his full height, curled his arm around Ty’s shoulders, and subtly pulled him closer, splaying his hand across Ty’s collarbone possessively. Ty bit back the annoyance the protective stance caused.
    “Can I help you?” Zane said, the sounds rumbling between put out and wary.
    “Mr. Porter?” the man asked in heavily accented English. Ty couldn’t quite place the origin. Turkey, maybe. He wasn’t sure. What was obvious was that this had to be one of Corbin Porter’s contacts aboard the ship. And he definitely wasn’t Italian. That left Vartan Armen, the acquisitions specialist.
    “I’m Corbin Porter,” Zane acknowledged. “You must be — ”
    “Vartan Armen, yes,” the man broke in. “Only the one telephone conversation more than a year ago does not give one much with which to draw a conclusion, I know.” Armen paused and looked Ty up and down. “I must admit, your… husband gave you away.”
    Ty had to fight not to bristle at the man. He felt like a pit bull, his hackles rising because he didn’t like the scent of the man. He snorted at him as if amused. Zane must have picked up on the tension, though, because the hand on Ty’s shoulder began to rub soothingly. “He does attract attention, doesn’t he?” Zane said.
    Armen gave Ty a polite look and nod. “Quite striking, indeed. I am aware we are not to meet until some days hence, but I feel all this cloak and dagger is quite cumbersome. We’re not here to hide from one another,” he said with a smile that seemed genuine. “My stateroom is 8520, if you wish to contact me before our scheduled activities coincide. I feel dinner and drinks would put us all more at ease before we convene any business.”
    “I agree,” Zane answered as he nodded. “I’m sure it won’t throw our itinerary off too much to make a change.”
    Armen gave a courteous nod. “Very good. I shall be in touch.”
    Ty remained silent, practically vibrating with the desire to jump in and say something, dig for information, anything before the man left them. He remained silent though, feigning boredom as he looked away with a long sigh. He slid his sunglasses on as if preparing to return to the pool, and he looked back at Armen. With one push of his thumbnail to the inside of the frame, he activated the tiny camera inside the designer sunglasses. He stared at Armen just long enough to hope the camera got a clear shot, then