Taking Over Trofim (The Dominion of Brothers series book 5)

By Talon P.S.

The Dominion of Brothers Series book 5

Trenton Leos has always been known to many as the Dominus, the man to go to for the perfect D/s match. However, Trenton and his brothers are about to find out that he and their lifestyle has become the target of a political cleansing. A shady operation with very deep pockets comes to the surface when Trenton is asked to investigate a dark secret that threatens the future of Pyotr’s younger brother, Trofim Laszkovi and his lover, Shay Wilks.
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Trofim Laszkovi would never forget how right it felt to be in Shay’s Wilks’ arms five years ago. But Shay’s father made it abundantly clear with threats hard to ignore, that Trofim’s family would pay the price if he didn’t stay away from Shay. So with the help of a friend, Trofim made a career move that put him an ocean away from his family— and his heart.
Even now, having finally returned home only a year ago to the family he missed, Trofim hadn’t dared allow himself to look in Shay’s direction.
~ * ~
Shay Wilks has done everything he could to keep his father’s plans for him at arm’s length and protect his internship as a doctor from ruin by the same man. All in hopes that the only man Shay has ever loved will one day return to him.
Now, five years later, Shay finally has another chance to be with Trofim. If only he can convince Trofim they are better together than apart as well as get out from under his father’s brutal hold in time before Shay loses Trofim again— for good.

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MM / Erotic Romance / Drama / Beginners D/s / Explicit Hot Language

THE DOMINION OF BROTHERS SERIES
Becoming His Slave
Domming the Heiress
A Place for Cliff
Rough Attraction
Taking Over Trofim
Right One 4 Diesel
Touching Vida~Vince

• Language: English
• Publisher: TPS Publishing
• Release date: Dec 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311004628

Talon P.S.

Both Proud Indy Authors: Talon P.S. and his twin, Tarian P.S. love to torment their editor with a nefarious world of foreign-language, slang, local dialect, stretched/outside-of-the-box synonyms. They’re also known to throw in some con-lang at times. Though it will do you no good to scold them for it, they’ll point to Shakespeare with a retort along the line of “He started it.”This, of course, is all thrown in there with the dyslexia soup stock they both suffer from that makes editing with them a joy. [joy: n see mental illness]As a results of the abuse to their editors, the ignored kitties, and don’t even bring up the house chores, the final product comes out as richly-detailed, holographic worlds of Suspense, Science Fiction, and Erotic Romance, both Het and Gay. Not to leave out Talon's favorite genre: Space Sci-Fi Frontiers; and Tarian's favorite genres Post-Apocalyptic Dark Fantasies, all for readers to submerse themselves into and escape from the mundane.So be sure to have your reading glasses ready and stake out some prime cozy real estate cushions, because once you open these pages— Oh, the places we will go!

Book preview

DEDICATION

To my twin, Talon

&

To our Bug and Bobkitty

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A huge THANK YOU to Dr. Harvey Kaiser for taking the time to walk me through the medical field of cardiovascular surgery and helping me make sure Talon’s story accurately portrayed young doctors and having the surgical details right. As well as letting me know when it was okay to stretch it a touch to preserve the moment of elevated suspense.

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Special Thanks goes to:

Alison Greene and Ethan LJubankovic

for keeping us Dyslexic-Disaster-Zone free.

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To all our Readers and fans:

Thanks for sticking with us, even though all the dyslexic-grammar challenges.

We’re here because of you, our stories thrive and continue because of your support.

Thank you so much!! **big squishy Hugs**

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Warning

This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes, a MM relationship, some violence, and Adult Language, which may be considered offensive to some readers. It is intended for sales and the entertainment to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

However, in light of recent censorships that are but a mockup of book burning. In the most common and recently used definitions of what is deemed unacceptable offending content, it has become prudent to clarify the level of content warning here for this title. This book does NOT contain any described rape. It does NOT contain any incest, bestiality, under-aged play or sexual scenes with anyone under the legal age.

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For everyone else, this book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may NOT find objectionable. Certain side effects are bound to happen should you decide to continue reading. Symptoms may include, but not limited to: Heavy breathing, warm sensation in chest and lower regions of the body, and sudden urges to wrangle your partner towards the bedroom, {with intentions to gain a deep feeling of satedness only great sexy can bring—}. Should this happen, do not become alarmed. It is perfect natural and very beneficial end-results are likely to occur. Your partner will thank me later).

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Trademark Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Vehicles:

ConQuest Knight Armored Luxury Trucks

Cadillac Escalade

Cadillac Coupe Deville

Mercedes E Class

Alcohol Brands:

Hypothesis by Roots Run Deep winery in the Napa Valley area of California. 

Colognes:

Euphoria Men Intense cologne by Calvin Cline

Set Sail Martinique by Tommy Bahamas

Set Sail St. Barts by Tommy Bahamas

Misc:

Pelican™ cases - Pelican Products, Inc.

Under Armour® Apparel 

Rick Day – photographer

Bruno Gmunder – photographer

Books:

Three Men in a Boat: To Say Nothing of the Dog by Jerome Jerome.

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TABLE OF CONTENT

DEDICATION

TRADEMARKS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

EPILOGUE

THE END

ABOUT THE TWINS

BONUS READ I

BONUS READ II

BONUS READ III

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PROLOGUE

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Shit, shit, shit. Trofim cursed after banging his knuckles for the hundredth time as he pulled hard on his sticks to keep in pace with his crew mates.

It was their first practice outside of the indoor tank hall and Pyotr was drilling them to break their winter stymy shells. You could drill and practice your ass off all winter long, but there was something lacking in the static positioning of the floating barge they rowed in and you didn’t realize it until you were back on the river. But in early March it was fucking cold, and despite Trofim’s fingers being frozen to the bone, he felt the pain of raw skin every time his hands collided.

Shit, shit, shit. Trofim cursed again.

What’s the matter little brother? Zane, who sat stroke seat, asked over his shoulder.

Its fucking cold and I keep catching on my cross over. Trofim complained. Zane wasn’t his brother, but as a team they were, so no one paid any mind to calling each other brothers.

Then maybe it’s time you put some meat on that body of yours.

I do that and I’ll lose my job.

Next time wear a polar-tech. That’ll keep you warm. Andres, who sat behind Trofim, butted in on the conversation.

Cox’swain! Give me a ten! Pyotr called from the bow and they all knew it was time to stop the chatter while Calon gave the warning.

Power-10 warming up in five!

Trofim tried to dial in on his body. But the cold was an issue. It was barely in the forties when they all started to arrive at the boathouse late afterboon when the sun was already on its way down, dipping down behind the city’s skyline of towering skyscrapers.

But the ice in the river had melted enough so that Pyotr was adamant the team left the tank hall and got down to some real rowing.

Trofim’s entire body burned. Part agonizing burn from pulling beyond the point when his body wanted to say fuck it and quit. The other part was the icy wind that breached his sweats and his Under Armor, and cut through skin clear to the bone. It was enough to make a man question his sanity as to why he was out here. And to think, tomorrow their practice was scheduled for six in the morning to row.

POWER 10! The call blasted ahead of him, his thoughts instantly scattered and his arms and legs did what they’d been trained to do. Pull without thinking, overriding the bitching and whining, to pull harder and faster. The eight of them remained in sync, folding over in the forward slider seats, then eight sets of navy and gray oar blades dipped into the water, and they all heaved back, pushing with their legs to propel their low profile scull down river.

Seven strokes— fold—dip— pull—

Eight strokes— faster—

Nine— harder—

Ten—

POWER DOWN! And they all eased back on the drive. Calon drummed on the hull to set the restored pace where they would remain until the next bridge. After that they would drop down even more to start cooling down before making it back to the boathouse.

How you guys feeling? Pyotr called out sounding as if he expected them to cheer back with exuberant raves. What he got was an ear full of grumbling and fuck offs instead. He laughed which didn’t seem normal, It’s your first day back out on the head, so I’ll let the lacking enthusiasm slip. Come tomorrow though, I better have a team response or I’ll have Hemi chant us back in. The reprimand from the captain was given.

Hey, Pyotr! Zane called up.

Yeah?

FUCK YOU! He shouted, And ten!

And just to put Pyotr in his place they were all dipping back in for another set of power pulls with a chant of fuck you added to the mix. It was a shame, Trofim thought, not being able to see the smile his brother was likely wearing. Being the slave driver Pyotr was, he was probably loving this.

They slipped under the last bridge and Calon gave the order for the cool down. They all just stopped pulling for a couple of breaths as the shadow of the bridge pulled away and the afternoon light caught them again.

A seagull cried out overhead and Trofim glanced up. But it wasn’t the seagull he saw. It was him.

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CHAPTER ONE

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Trofim finished his shower, and went to his locker with nothing more than the towel tied at his hips. He needed to get out of there. Instead, he found himself dropping down to the bench, overwhelmed with old feelings. That face up on the bridge, looking down, just as his team rowed underneath— he knew that face, remembered it all too well. It still hurt to see him after all this time. Why Shay would suddenly show his face at their first outdoor practice seemed more than coincidence. It would be just like Shay Wilks to come sneaking around, but Trofim’s heart couldn’t take it.

Are you joining us for dinner?

Trofim heard the gentle question reach him through everything else that bombarded his mind. He looked over, finding his brother’s concerned face. He never could hide anything from Pyotr, and it was no mystery that what he felt now had started back in the fall at the championship race.

Shay had been there too. Shay was pulling stroke seat on the New Rochelle Master’s Rowing Team. Trofim was only grateful he hadn’t seen him on the river during the race or he would have likely created a similar wreckage of oars for his teammates as Shay had for his. So he was told. No doubt Shay’s father, former Senator Benjamin Wilks had been there as well and saw what caused his son’s failure. The New Rochelle Team would have taken third place in the Masters if it hadn’t been for that calamity. A wrecking ball Trofim was grateful to have been oblivious of.

Except when Shay came running up to congratulate him after receiving the championship trophy, Trofim nearly crash-landed off the back edge of the platform trying to get away. Seeing Shay again brought on a storm of old emotions, both good and painful. The worst of them was knowing Shay's father would see them too, and Trofim couldn’t allow that.

Trofim? Pyotr’s fatherly tone broke through the clouds in his head again.

Sorry. Trofim averted his eyes. Pyotr had just gone through the death of his lover’s sister, Kimmi, and both Cliff and he were still nursing the pain and grief of the loss. The last thing Trofim wanted to do was dump his five year old broken-heart melodrama on the man. Nah, I’m good. I think, I’m just gonna grab something and head to Club Pain. Fashon will be expecting me there.

When you’re ready then. Pyotr gave him a long assuring look, like a pillar only a brother could provide, before he vanished behind the wall to head out. It was his brother’s way of saying he would be there for him whenever he was ready to talk. Even with a new love of his own, Pyotr would never stop being Pyotr. Nothing was too important to keep him from family. Always the big brother that looked after his siblings as if they had always been his own children, and in a sense, they were. After all, Trofim himself, had only been eleven years old when their parents sent them out of Yugoslavia to flee the coming civil war. Pyotr became the only mother and father they had after that.

Trofim stared at his locker, hating the sinking feeling he had. Even less, he lacked the motivation he needed to get dressed and forget what could not be changed.

I got tired of waiting outside for you. Someone spoke from behind him.

Trofim spun about, jumping to his feet and backed against the lockers at the familiar voice. His heart dropped the millisecond his eyes came upon the handsomely refined face of Shay Wilks. What are you doing here? He swallowed hard, trying to regain his bearings and hopefully some resistance.

Shay took a step towards him, closing the space between them that wasn’t nearly enough, and placed one hand flat against the lockers next to Trofim’s shoulder.

Trofim’s eyes followed the possessive move of Shay’s arm still molded with the muscles of an athlete and took that as a sign to move away. One step and Shay slapped his other hand up, blocking his escape. Still running I see. It was more of an accusation than something arrogant. So much of the rich boy attitude was at work in Shay. When he had Trofim in his targets, Shay fully intended to have him.

I didn’t run. I left. I got that break into modeling. It required a lot of travel. Trofim blabbed out in his defense. Even if it wasn’t entirely the truth.

~  *  ~

"Yes, I know. But were you so busy you couldn’t pick up the phone and call your lover just once? I didn’t even get a sayonara from you." Shay let his eyes drift down Trofim’s body, lapping up the very sight of him. Then back to Trofim’s eyes. Blue like the night was long. Not a light blue or a sky color, but deep like cobalt stone. The kind of blue most had to accomplish with contacts, but Shay knew first hand Trofim’s eyes were all natural. The color of his soul— so deep, it was staggering.

Senator Wilks saw to that. Trofim snapped, stifling the rest of the words where as the shakiness of his voice conveyed there was more he wanted to say.

Shay stilled, just inches from Trofim’s face. He had always known his father had some doing in Trofim’s sudden departure, but no one, not even Trofim’s brothers would speak of it. I was angry for months after you left and then I saw the first modeling release of you Shay laid a soft feathery kiss against Trofim’s jaw, I saw how beautiful you are, but those first few pictures also showed your pain. I saw in your eyes you were hurting too. He kissed him again with light, lingering contact, I tried to reach out to you, but you never came back— ‘til now. Shay leaned back, his gaze washing over Trofim’s body as if he had done so with his hands. So handsome. He whispered, as if remembering something far more intimate, I think I’ve managed to collect every photo ad ever printed of you. His hands dropped from the lockers to Trofim’s arms, delighting in the feel of the excerted muscles of his biceps. Shay’s eyes locked on the muscular curves, Damn, rowing has been good to your body. Shay moved his hands up over the other man’s shoulders, gliding down over his chest. Both hands squeezing the firm gentle rise of pec muscles firmly then catching one of Trofim’s sensitive nipples between Shay’s fingers and pinched him hard.

~  *  ~

Before the gasp could barely break past Trofim’s lips, Shay came over them, his tongue plunging into his mouth and lapping at his tongue. Claiming Trofim all over again with a deep hunger that had never been quenched by anyone but Shay.

Trofim was spontaneously drowning in the kiss, feeling the man’s arms tighten around him like a snake coiling around its prey, refusing to allow even the slightest chance for escape. Yet it was the kiss which made Trofim stay. Shay had a mouth that could get you drunk on the euphoria of its caress, as if his kiss were made of honey wine. And Shay was force feeding an entire barrel of it into Trofim’s mouth that very moment. Delivering and eating all at the same time. Moreover, to ensure there was nothing left of his resistance, Shay pressed in, delivering a firm grinding of his hardened arousal against Trofim’s own cock. Shay’s hands wandering further down and grasping over Trofim’s hip, pulling them to ride against him.

Despite every brain cell sending up immediate alarms to get away, Trofim’s body knew he was in the arms meant to hold him and everything lit up. Awake and wanting. Convincing him to stay where he belonged.

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Since he was a boy, Shay had always fantasized of ensnaring one of the Laszkovi brothers, and in his book, Trofim was cream of the crop; and, at one point, had been his. Standing here now, pressed against Trofim’s body again, every lust laden memory Shay’d ever had was heating up inside him once more. He wasn’t about to let Trofim leave without being reminded just how good Shay could make him feel. Renew those intimate addictions, making it so Trofim had to come back for more.

Skipping past ceremony, Shay dropped to his knees, pulled the man’s towel free and pressed his face into Trofim’s crotch, inhaling the alluring, clean male musky scent of the man and felt his cock harden against his face in a matter of seconds. Shay smiled as he licked at the soft skin of Trofim’s hilt, glad to know he wasn’t the only one who remembered.

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Trofim’s arm shot up as if he had every intention of knocking Shay away from him, but surrendered instead, coming up over his own head and sliding down to cover his eyes. Damn it— shit— Trofim gasped sucking in his breath just to get the next word out before having to find his breath again, Don’t do this.

It was hard enough just to stay on his feet. Shay’s mouth had that kind of effect on him, but there was still the underlining current that they would have a world of hell come down on them if they got caught.

I can’t stop. Shay purred against his skin, Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been, waiting for you to come home?

~  *  ~

Shay ran his tongue along the underside of Trofim’s cock watching the man’s head fall back on his shoulders. He watched the convulsions in Trofim’s chest and shoulders as Shay licked over the broad tip of his lost lover’s shaft and nibbled over the glans; super sensitive and delicious. The chills it created deliberately intended to overwhelm Trofim. His hands instantly running across his chest to still them in response to Shay’s approach, but dropped down to fondle himself, adding to the elixir given over by Shay’s tongue.

~  *  ~

Trofim’s fingers reached out to find Shay’s lips, tracing the movement as his hard length of muscle slipped between them. Into a hot mouth of bliss, and surrendered to Shay’s will, rendering him helpless against the moans that ripped from his lungs.

Trofim looked down his body at the man eating hungrily around his cock and the sight made him even weaker. Shay played with him, allow Trofim’s cock to slip from Shay’s mouth. The erotic sight of how the glistening broad tip now shone with the added moisture of saliva, left Trofim helpless to do anything, but throw his head back again and enjoy.

He chewed at his lip. God the man had a wicked tongue. One he’d never forgotten and after all these years it’d only gotten better. But Shay Benjamin Wilks was off limits. Son of one of New York’s elite white rich families and former Senator, he was way off limits for any gay man.

Trofim was going to say something— something along the lines of stop or we can’t, but then his cock hit the back of Shay’s throat and then slid in even further until Shay’s lips were kissing Trofim at his hilt. "Ahhh— fuck, Shay." He groaned, forgetting everything else.

Shay's mouth moved steadily up and down, his tongue whipping around the shaft like a demon hell bent on cursing him to fall in love with this man all over again. Trofim stroked at his balls, already pulling tight against his body while his other hand felt around the side of Shay’s face, finding the fullness of the man’s cheeks from his thick cock pumping into Shay’s mouth. Oh god it was euphoria and it was coming to destroy him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling something as exquisite as Shay’s mouth. The pleasure so intense it was almost painful. It was torture just to not pull away.

He’d known Shay since they were kids in the Academy school; Shay was a few grades down and not on the radar. It wasn’t until Trofim was in college, Leon, his boyfriend at the time, came to him with stories of the newest pledge and a magical mouth. Leon invited the pledge over for a three-way. It just so happened the pledge turned out to be Shay Wilks, and damn had he grown into a man. Trofim could never take his eyes off the man. He was hooked and the threesome carried on, but it wasn’t long before the chemistry shifted and Leon was left out.

That year, Trofim’s four years in college came to an end; his relationship with Shay did not. For Shay’s remaining three years towards his bachelors, Shay was on the collegiate rowing team, and the boathouse, after practice, became one of their usual hook-up spots.  Shay’s pre-med Bachelors program was demanding to say the least. And he had his hopes set on being accepted into medical school for the surgical program, but he always made time for Trofim somehow.

The two of them had been in love then. Even now, Trofim could feel the heartache wanting to be mended by the same man sucking him to the edge of orgasm.

Trofim’s body trembled, his breath turning ragged as he struggled to breathe in the ecstasy coming at him like a wave to pitch him over the edge. Oh fuck, Shay— he gasped, feels so good, so good. His knees weakened and Shay’s hands tightened their grip on his hips, keeping him steady.

Trofim tangled his fingers into Shay’s light, golden-brown hair, riding the motion of his head, sliding up and down his cock, faster and deeper while his other hand roamed over his own body. Feeling over his abs and chest— raked through his hair then back down to race over his body again. Shudders turned to jerks and his knees threatened to give out. He slapped a hand on the lockers behind him for added support, while the on hand on Shay’s head tightened, Oh god, Shay, I’m gonna cum. Trofim couldn’t stop his body from surrendering to what it loved. His leg lifting up to drape over Shay’s shoulder, and pressing the heel of his foot into Shay’s back. And he was finding it hard to ignore how his thighs ached to have Shay’s familiar hard body pounding between them.

Shay’s head pressed in, taking Trofim’s cock all the way past his throat and then those damn grey eyes looked up at him, and Trofim was done. His whole body tensed and locked. A groan fought its way past clenched teeth as the explosion rattled through him like a shock wave over every nerve ending and then shot out of his rod, filling Shay’s mouth and gullet with his release.

His fingers raked through Shay’s already tussled locks while those of his other hand raked through his own, fighting to hang on while Shay’s throat hugged and caressed every last drop down, like milking nectar for a meal.

Shay let Trofim’s softening shaft slip from his lips and he kissed and licked over it tenderly before making his way up the chiseled chest to find Trofim’s lips waiting to reward him with a deep kiss. Trofim’s reached up and cupped Shay’s face and drew him in. His tongue licking out to taste Shay’s lips before finding their way past them to tangle with his tongue. Shay’s hands mirrored those of Trofim’s and the two kissed with a deep passion they’d never shared with anyone else before.

When was the last time you felt something as good as that? Shay teased him with his self-gloating.

About five years ago. Trofim sighed and pulled away slowly.

What? Aren’t there gay men other than you in the modeling industry? Shay said it with heavy sarcasm, yet seemingly pleased that no one had had his man during their separation.

There are. They just don’t touch me the way you did. The sarcasm was scratching over tender ground that at the moment felt like fresh wounds and squelched the euphoric after-feeling. How’d you know I had practice here?

I’m interning at Queens General, under Pavle. I overheard him on the phone the other day saying he wasn’t going to make it to practice. So when my class lecture for tonight got canceled— Shay shrugged, I took full advantage of your where-a-bouts before it would be time for me to go in for my rotation at the hospital.

Going for the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em tactic, are you? Trofim hardened himself and turned his back to Shay, swinging his locker open. It was bad enough he couldn’t resist the man, but for Shay to just come here to use him for a quick fix pissed him off. Stripping the last of the lingering intimacy he’d allowed himself to reconnect with.

Oh, I won’t be fucking you tonight, Trofim. Shay leaned a shoulder against the lockers, watching him like Shay owned him or something.

Trofim pulled his briefs over his legs and up over his hips, feeling every bit of Shay’s licking gaze as he did. Trofim tossed his head back to flip the long strands of his curly bangs from his eyes and forced a hardened glance towards Shay. What? Don’t tell me your parents were right all along and you’ve gone straight. Trofim grabbed the can of body spray and doused himself. The space around him filling with the fresh scent of zingy lemon peel, basil, fig leaf, vanilla, and warm teak wood. He triggered a few extra shots, if not to rid himself of Shay’s scent, then to at least fog his long ago lover out of his personal space. So what was this? A blow job for ol’ time sake?

Not hardly. I’m still as gay blooded as the day I was born; I just don’t have any intentions of letting anything come between us again. Shay stepped into Trofim, his hand dropping over the soft bulge in Trofim’s briefs and stroked over it, Not even a condom. We’ll go get our blood work and then I’m going to nail you to my bed for several days before I let you up again.

Trofim brushed Shay’s hand from his crotch before he could work him hard again, You’re such a romantic.

Do you want romance? Shay moved until he was behind him and pressed his body against Trofim’s. Shay’s long arms coming around Trofim’s waist and hugged at his hips, then Shay dropped his lips to kiss Trofim’s shoulder and brush his skin with a warm breath. Sweetheart?

Trofim took a deep breath and twisted out of Shay’s arms, I want you to stay away from me. He grabbed the rest of his clothes from the locker and stepped over to the bench to avoid further contact from Shay. He dropped his jeans on it, then proceeded to pull his dress shirt on.

~  *  ~

Shay watched Trofim’s retreat, Not gonna happen. He reached out to slip his hand under the shirt that had just blocked the view of his handsome Trofim, who in turn brushed his hand away and took another step back, putting the bench between them. Shay remained undeterred. He returned his back against the lockers and glanced in on Trofim’s things, even reaching in and moved a few things around. You know my heart was doing double flips when I saw you on the river during the master’s race last fall. Not to mention it stopped beating all together when you ran away from me at the awards ceremony. I’m not about to let you do it again. You’ve run from me long enough. Shay turned to face Trofim directly. I love you, Trofim. Always have. Seeing you again, I know I never stopped, and I know damn well you love me or you wouldn’t put so much effort into running from me. Shay dropped his hands into his jacket pockets and watched as Trofim continued to dress.

Trofim pulled his jeans up, adjusted his package and zipped up. Maybe it’s something else I’m running from. He stepped up brushing past Shay and grabbed his heavy jacket and scarf from the locker, slammed it shut and secured the lock on it.

Shay felt the grin coming on and he licked his lips. Damn— watching Trofim dress was almost as sexy as watching him undress, though the rewards were far better with the latter deed. What is it then? Tell me what it is and I might leave you alone. Shay’s mind was still locked on the man’s body.

Trofim’s face hardened, those cobalt eyes turning midnight with some painful rage he never voiced as he threw his jacket on and coiled the scarf around his neck, Go home to your fiancé, Shay. Trofim flipped his collar up, made a last tug on his jacket and headed out, And stay away from me!

Shay’s head fell back against the lockers, his smile evaporated as he watched the man storm away. Trofim hadn’t just been running from him, he was running from the broken heart they shared. However, that last part hurt the most, a dagger that scarred them both.

He banged his head against the metal several times, cursing each time. His father and step-mother had gone and printed the article in the paper announcing his engagement to Sarah Londonaire without his permission. Just days after the championship races where his father had watched the grid lock of oars on his scull.

The screw up cost his team their advantage on the other crews. And when the Greenwich Queens Rowing Crew was called up to receive first place, his father saw what had been the reason. There on the platform, with his teammates, was Shay’s ex-lover, Trofim Laszkovi. As beautiful as before and all the more buff. Shay knew that very moment, just as he had known five years ago, he never wanted to be with another man for as long as he lived. He and Trofim were meant to be together.

Five years of feeling utterly lost in his life burned away in those few seconds he saw Trofim. Recalling the small memory that his father lost to a new senator that voted in favor to legalize gay marriage in the state of New York made all the more sweeter seeing Trofim up there, taking the championship. Alongside his teammates who were publicly known for being an all gay male team.

Shay pulled his hand from a pocket and stared down at the item he’d taken out of Trofim’s locker. Shay was determined to do whatever it took to get Trofim back.

For starters, Trofim was going to want his blackberry back.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Trofim sat inside his car, staring up at the second floor of the boathouse as the last of the twilight faded to nighttime. His mind panic stricken with the memories of his past.

~~ The Columbia boathouse hadn’t been much different from this one. That’s where they were when it happened. The rest of the team had already left when he and Shay made love in the shower. Only, Shay had forgotten his father, who was still Senator at the time, planned to pick him up after practice for a fundraiser function. Trofim and Shay were going at it, hot and heavy. The world didn’t even exist for them— that was until Benjamin Wilks walked in on them.

A few days later, Senator Wilks’ goons began delivering the threats. Pyotr and the rest of his brothers were ready to fight back, but Trofim wouldn’t risk his family to the threats that included them too.

His brother Darko, at the time was dating Fashon Rayneux, a local hot shot fashion designer. Darko only had to inquire once and Trofim was thrust into the modeling industry nearly over night. It had been his ticket out; away from the man he couldn’t trust himself to keep his hands off. In those five years, and being back here now, he realized nothing had changed. He was still unable to pull himself away from Shay Wilks.~~

Trofim took a staggering deep breath and blew it out with a huff, the backs