Antidote (Don't) (46 page)

I was about to tell Gray, then noticed somebody (Mikal?) was already by us and whispering something in his ear.

Gray looked back down on the dance floor, for a moment scanning the crowd. Then he obviously caught-on as to who was here. After a slow ease away from the glass, he was moving for the doors. Giving a last glance down, I followed, seeing people behind suddenly shift as if to stop me, but I was already through the door and taking the stairs two at a time.

By the time I made it to the first floor, over to the bar where Jack had been dancing, he was nowhere to be seen.

Panic tore through me. If Henry was here, if he’d seen Jack—if he’d fucking
touched
Jack.

Gray leaned over the bar to have a word with the bartender and he was pointed over to the door marked
Private
. It led on through to a comfortable hall with thick carpet, soft lighting, and mahogany picture frames. Tasteful. All that left was a door at the end that Gray didn’t let sleep for long. After making it slam against the wall and the occupants jerk their heads in our direction, things went very quiet, very fucking quickly as Gray went in.

Jack was up against a wall, the big guy pressed in close, hands having tugged Jack’s shirt out and messing with the skin beneath. Up close, the man was even bigger, and he was the one who got all of Gray’s attention as his smaller ferret of a friend tugged a condom out of a wrapper.

Going nose-to nose with the big guy, even though Gray fell short in every department going, Gray backed the man away from Jack without a word uttered.

“What—?”

Gray levelled a
shut-it
finger in Jack’s direction, yet stayed completely with the big man as something fell from the man’s hand. It hadn’t been visible under Jack’s shirt, but now it caught the light as it hit the floor.

“Get him upstairs, Ray,” said Gray, not even looking back, but I did, and just in time to see a man dressed in plain clothes standing by the door. As he came over, Jack backed away, looking scared as hell and enough for me to nearly hit Ray for getting close. But there was something about Jack’s look that cut short any cry. Locking Jack’s arms behind his back, nearly lifting Jack onto his tiptoes, Ray started to drag him out of the backroom. There was no aggression, no fight, and Jack was usually all fight. And his eyes... what the fuck was wrong with his eyes? Maybe he’d had a little too much to drink, at times he just seemed to stare, attention occasionally broken as Ray dragged him past me, through the door. None of his mouth, none of Jack’s martial art.

And that just left big guy and his real “fucking peachy” mate.

“What’s your problem?” said the weasel by me, finally finding a voice. “We’re all adults in here, he—”

“
Neil
,” hissed the big man quickly, shaking his head and adding a low, “shut the fuck up.” Then to Gray—“Apologies,” said the man, now backed up to the settee, Gray still in his face. “The guy didn’t say he was MC, certainly not a Master’s. I...” He let out a shaky huff. “I’m Kris from Hester’s circle. And I, I wouldn’t have touched otherwise. I’d have backed off that first night—”

“First night?” I went close. “What the fuck do you mean “first night”? He’s been here before?”

Kris frowned past Gray at me. “Didn’t expect to see him on a Saturday, but, yeah, the past two Frida—”

Gray’s hand met Kris’s throat. “You touched him? He let you fucking touch him?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Kris tried to get free, to breathe. “Like I said, we didn’t know he was Master Circle. I’m really sorry, Master Raoul. I stated clearly enough who I was. So did Neil. He never repaid that courtesy. I just thought he was this frustrated straight who wanted in on the scene.”

Neil seemed to lose all colour. But Gray pulled back, a slight frown on his face, then picked something up off the floor that had fallen at his feet. He gave Kris a nod, and Kris moved, avoiding any contact with Gray as he came over, pushing at Neil’s shoulder until both men were out of the room.

And that just left Jack, and what the
hell
he thought he was playing at. With a look at Gray, I left.

The VIP room had been cleared upstairs, but Jack was nowhere to be seen. As we made it to the bar, Gray was met by Mikal. Something was whispered in his ear, then Gray led me through the bar, through a stock room, and into a corridor with a door marked
Manager
at the end. A man in a suit stood outside, talking to Ray, and Gray gave him a nod and a soft apology before twisting the handle and going inside.

Jack sat on the floor, back against the wall, head buried in the arms across his knees.

“Hey,” I mumbled, starting for him, but a rough grip off Gray pulled me back.

“You. Talk,” said Gray, the anger evident in his voice possibly for the first time as he shut the door behind me. “You find that fucking mouth of yours and you talk very... fucking... quickly.”

Jack covered his head, soft sobs shaking his shoulders, and that was enough for me. “Hey.” I crashed down by him, trying to get him to lift his head, grab hold of the grief, but he pushed away, jerking his head to the side. Then I frowned as chuckling took over. He glanced up, wiping his nose on his sleeve, tears falling, but mostly because he couldn’t stop laughing.

“Fuck, you see their faces down there seeing him?” Jack nodded in Gray’s direction.

I eased to my feet.

“Christ.” He buried his head again, trying to stop the laughter, then pushed to his feet. Going over to the manager’s desk, Jack sorted around in some drawers, pulled out some cigarettes, some complementary matches, then lit up a smoke as he sat on the corner of the desk. “Could’ve at least let me get laid first,” he said before taking a long pull, then pointing at Gray. “Always did know how to spoil the fun, didn’t you, Welsh?”

I backed away a touch as Gray took hold of the chair, put it in front of Jack, then sat down facing him. “Hey, there, Martin,” he said quietly, almost tiredly.

Jack finished glancing around the office and flashed a smile at Gray. “You’re looking old. Jack been riding you hard all these years?”

Gray snorted and drew a leg up onto his knee, looking relaxed and tense at the same time as Jack took another long pull on his smoke and flicked a look at me.

“Got him some pretty young ass to fuck, too, by the look of it. Fuck me, and I thought I partied hard.” He started humming softly, then, “Three in the bed and the little soft vanilla said, roll over and let me fuck you harder, baby. Jack’s gone soft over the years and learned to spread his legs without hitting someone, I see?”

“Talk to me about April Leamore, Martin.”

Jack gave a raised brow. “Play fuck and tell with you?” He gave another pull on the smoke, threw the cigarette packet on the table, but kept a hold on the matches as he smiled. “Even after all these years are you still trying to dig deep for all of Jack’s little secrets, mmm?”

“April,” Gray said flatly. “I have a few ideas on just how she knew you. What I want to know is, how does she know Jack?”

“Tell me more about those ideas over me.” The smirk in his eyes had every ounce of Jack’s cock-teasing look, but something in there tainted it. “Where do they take you, Welsh?” His gaze travelled up and down Gray’s body. “Hmmm. When those hands roam, heading for a little self-exploration, who do you think about? Jack? Me? Do you ever hide your face in guilt from Jack because you miss... me?”

“After April’s husband found you two in bed, you forced him between the sheets with you at knifepoint and made him fuck her in front of you. Beats Jack hitting his father when his father walked in on him and the first man Jack took to bed.”

“Knifepoint?” Jack shifted back a touch, getting more comfortable. “April’s husband tell you that? That I used a weapon?” He stubbed out the smoke, still watching Gray. “Suppose he’d have to make something up to justify getting in bed with us and letting an eighteen-year-old fuck him as he fucked his missus.” That smile. “If I was there, of course.”

“And April? How much did that play on her mind, knowing you’d fucked her husband too?”

“Well, if I had been there, if it had been me,” said Jack, and he winked over at me, “I can honestly say I wouldn’t have let April’s whining ruin a perfectly good threesome.”

“But something did?”

Jack shrugged. “I suppose I might have gotten bored. April probably had a killer mouth, but being, what? A nurse working for NHS, what came out of her mouth can’t have been none too bright. If I’d been there, of course.”

Gray gave a little smile. “Of course. Fuck off now, Martin, let me talk to Jack,” he said coldly, only to have Jack snort.

“Fuck you, cunt. He doesn’t let me out too often these days. Besides...” Matches in hand, Jack slipped off the table, then went and straddled Gray’s legs, draping his arms over Gray’s shoulders. “You took my ride off me.” He bit at Gray’s lip. “Fancy being mine? You can pretend I’m Jack.” Jack traced Gray’s jacket, opening it up so he could get at Gray’s shirt. “Like his mouth, don’t you, Welsh?” He was grinning as he kissed at Gray’s neck. “How he fights to sub.” Jack groaned as he let his hand fall to the clasp of his own trousers, flicked them open, and slipped inside to start touching himself. “Fuck,” he mumbled, biting at Gray’s throat again. “I can play sub for you, let you collar me, Christ, even call me bitch. One condition,” he added quietly. “You collar me—I collar you, chain it to mine, and make sure you wake crying in the morning with a sore fucking ass first—”

Gray suddenly shifted, shoving Jack off, then up against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

“
You let those bastards fucking touch him? You
—”

“Oh yeah, there he is.” Jack traced a touch along Gray’s jacket. “I feel you fucking him each time. Do you know that?” Jack sighed, and traced his touch down to Gray’s ass, pulling him in, hips against hips, lips now ghosting his jaw, and there was a slight smile there as he played. “Pity he doesn’t know what gets you going,” was whispered in the wake of his kisses. “I remember. From how pissed you are even after all these years, I know you remember showing me, Welsh.”

Giving a frown, Gray eased back a touch, his hands coming up more onto Jack’s waist, putting a little space between them. Jack pulled a match free with his teeth, flicking it over his tongue and tossing the match box aside. Then reaching high above his head, he struck the match on the wall. Lifting his shirt slightly, he bit back a cry, body arching into all of the hurt as he ran the match just below his ribs. “Fuck... me,” he breathed, head thrown back, eyes closed. Dropping the match as I cried out in disgust, he slipped a touch down his own body and found the heat going on between his thighs, his dick hard and topping his trousers as he stroked along it. “You like playing with bastards,” he mumbled, pulling Gray back in by the ass as he played. “Loved playing the bastard with me, too, didn’t you, Welsh? When Jack was hiding.” A chuckle was given. “You told Jack about it yet?” Grey eyes flashed playfully. “Want me to?”

A snarl, Gray wiped at his mouth, looked distractedly around, then grabbing Jack’s wrist, Gray pushed him back against the wall again. Body pressed against body, everything was so much calmer with Gray as he ran his nose along Jack’s jaw line, forcing Jack’s head up slightly when he didn’t react, and he gave such a gentle kiss to his throat as he traced a hand down Jack’s side.

“Give me Jack back, please, Martin.”

“Doesn’t want to come and play,” he mumbled quietly. “Sent me instead.” There was that slow smile again. “Needs fucking so badly, that kid. Wants to be tied down, fucked, forced to feel you, get Vince off his skin. But he’s too scared to ask for it.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Gray. “If he’s craving BDSM, if he’s craving this, and can’t ask for it yet.” Gray’s free hand caught Jack’s, guiding it up the wall, and a knife was slipped into Jack’s hand. “Then it’s mine to give it to him when he’s ready, not you.”

Jack groaned. “Now that’s playing dirty.” He took the knife and let it slip down his own body, arching into Gray. “He fucking loves a blade. Can feel it, he how he likes it.” He let it brush his exposed shaft. “Always did know how to play us both, didn’t you, Welsh?”

A snarl, Gray shifted, taking Jack with him, forcing him over the manager’s desk onto his back. A tug at Jack’s shirt, exposing just a slice of tanned side, he pushed the flat of the knife against Jack’s skin.

“You think he needs this now?” Gray brought his body down, the knife caught between them, a grip in Jack’s hair, lips now so close. “Think you know him better than me?”

Exposing Jack’s throat, Gray licked a long trail, collarbone to jaw, then nipped at the skin. There was something in Jack’s eyes, fear, yes, but something so much more. A need. A playful arch of body that said
yeah, fucking like that, baby
.

“Yeah,” whispered Gray heatedly, adding a little grind of hip. “Got all of Jack’s gorgeous reactions going on there, Martin. So fucking hard.”

“Like it, Welsh? Fucking hurt it, then. Let’s go play with fire and really get you all hot and horny.”

Gray kissed more heatedly at Jack’s neck. “Yeah, you still know how to play someone, find their kink. But the knife’s been on the floor, Martin. Did you know that, hmmm?”

Jack went very still.

Gray followed that stillness, his look now as cold as Jack’s as he eased back and looked down on him. “One fleck of dust carries a multitude of germs,” he held the knife against Jack’s throat, “but that doesn’t matter, does it? Jack’s cured now, right?”

“
Th’ fuck
off me!” Jack tried to pull away from the knife, anything to shift and stop the blade touching. Giving a frown, Gray put the blade on the table out of harm’s way.

“Been feeling a little strange the past few Fridays? Enjoying the knife against you, then finding little things start to annoy you? Whether the Dom touching the knife has washed his hands?”

Jack seemed to shiver, frown, and Gray rested his head down, forehead to forehead with Jack. “Unusual for you to call the police in, Martin. Why’d you do that? Has Jack given you some strange limits that are even fucking with your head?” He sighed heavily. “Caught between seeking out the BDSM Jack’s missing and crying out something’s wrong with you?”