Breakdown (22 page)

Blinds were open, letting in a low yellow light that played softly in the bedroom. Giving a sniff, I let the bed take the weight off my feet as I sat down. Giving nothing more than a grumble, the man asleep there eased onto his back, but didn’t wake.

He wasn’t hard on the eye, not for someone maybe twenty years older than me. He’d spent some time shifting pallets and lifting crates, the covers shaping him well. Boxers were worn, but nothing else, and I let a smile creep in before looking away. Yeah, I kind of got a kick out of an older guy’s body.

“Up and at ’em, East Ender,” I slapped hard on his stomach, making the man jolt and crumple in on himself slightly.

“Wha—”

“Shush.” Razor blade pulled out, I straddled his torso, pressing a hand against his mouth, blade against his throat, making sure he shut the fuck up. Eyes were wide, and I winked, liking the look. “A word in your ear, guv’na,” I said quietly, breath playing against his jaw. “My favourite one for tonight is...” My body shifted against his, getting comfortable, getting more enjoyment out of feeling him scared and naked beneath me. “...informer.”

There was a mumble against my hand, a wild shake of head, but the press of the razor against his throat sent him quiet. Happy he was going to stay that way, I eased up, keeping the blade pressed close to his throat. “Name, East Ender,” I said quietly.

No name came, and I frowned, not liking that he wasn’t playing along. A slight slice down with the razor forced a hiss, a slight draw of blood, then—“Dave.”

“Dave...” I smiled. “Well... Dave.” Pulling the keys out of my back pocket, I held them up in the darkness. “Brought your keys back,” I said quietly. He looked at them, but only for a minute before I held them up to the light. “Tried to box clever with me, hmmm?”

The play of light off metal almost hurt my eyes.

“See, I was promised a copy, and looky what I got instead.” I held them close, close enough to touch his nose. “I got the original ones. Looks like someone fucked up somewhere, and you got the copies.” I drew one of the keys over his lips. “And there’s a clear mark on the blank to this one saying ‘Do not copy’.”

Covering his nose, razor in tow, I waited until he was forced to take a breath before forcing the keys into his mouth, one by one.

“Seen enough spare keys in my time to know that locksmiths don’t copy restricted keys, so did you get a call saying someone had tried to copy them, hmmm? It put you onto maybe there being an inside job on the go?”

Dave choked, spluttered, then coughed out the keys. “I have a right to protect what’s mine.”

“Of course you do,” I said, patting his cheek. “But you now forced me to protect what’s mine.” Coming down close, I kissed at his cheek. “So we’re gonna take a little ride, you and me.” I pressed the razor into the corner of his mouth. “Then, we’ll play a little game, one where we find out who’s better at protecting theirs: you, or me.”

Clouds Nightclub in London was your typical Saturday night dive, mostly taking the local chavs and underage drinkers trying to play it big and reach up to the bar without being asked to flash an ID card.

Mase was over on the dance floor, making a noise and playing up to one particular oaf who looked semi-interested in coming out to play too. Going over, I backed Mase up into him, forcing the big guy to spill his beer, curse, then steady Mase as I tongued Mase deep.

“Hey,” said the guy behind, and I looked at him as I played. “How about you come and greet me like that, gorgeous,” he said, and I got a very knowing grin, then a long look down at my body.

“Tell your friend to piss off, Mase,” I said flatly.

Mase kissed at my neck, then jaw, then lips. “Get lost, Rich.”

“Mase—”

“Fuck,” I said flatly, “off.”

Dropping his smile, the big man moved off, occasionally glaring back.

“It go good, then? Tonight?” murmured Mase in between alcopop-laden kisses. He was my age, but you wouldn’t have known that from his giddy chuckle and sweet Malibu-tasting lips. He tentatively traced down to my dick, and I let him touch.

“We’ll talk about it back at yours, hmmm?”

“Jack...” “Jack’s not here at the moment.” I bit at his ear. “How about you run with Martin for tonight, Jack’ll get back to you soon enough.”

Mase tried to look serious, eyes looking a little puzzled, then he smiled as arms wrapped around my neck. “Heard you like it freaky.”

“Hm?”

Giving a groan, Mase palmed my hard dick. “Want it freaky. But my old man’s at home there, Juh—Mart.”

“Yeah...?” My smile grew. “Then I know just the place.”

“A garage?” Mase’s look was a little unsure, but maybe a little too innocent as he eyed the old warehouse up, then flicked a look at me. “You don’t want to fuck about in your car?” His slight lift of lip and quick glance back was tempting enough. “Plenty of room in a Range Rover.”

I pushed on through to reception and Mase never even questioned why it was opened this late at night as he followed. Could get into most places, and, let’s face it, you didn’t piss in your own backyard, so a rival one from a few units down from Jack’s father’s would work goddamn perfectly. “Been there, fucked in that.” A wink was passed back. “I’m after a different ride tonight.”

I locked the door, and Mase dug his hands in his pockets, cheeks looking flush already as he looked around. “So... what’cha got in mind, boss?”

Hm. Coming in close behind him, I snaked his waist, pulling him back into me. “I like boss better.” A hand slipped down into his jeans and palmed at his cock. Oh yeah, he liked it too. My semi already dug into his clothed thigh, more than letting him know how much I really loved him all nice and knowing his place. A groan came as my hand pulled out of his boxers, then as a black silk blindfold was slipped into place, a breath of his escaped again, this time more shaky, not so disappointed.

“Let’s go for a walk, baby,” I mumbled, but as soon as Mase took a step forward, he stopped, giving a chuckle.

“Can’t see a thing, Martin.” Hands blindly travelled up my arm, and I pushed them away, instead grabbing on to his T-shirt and tugging him forward.

“Kind of the whole point,” I mumbled, guiding him through to the main garage floor.

It was still in darkness, except for the candlelight that I’d set up to flicker close enough to Dave. Had to consider atmospherics for this shit, not often a dad was given a front row seat like this. Still in his boxers, Dave was bound to a chair over by the roller doors. Engine hoist chains kept his chair still, but I guess seeing Mase led in did the rest, Dave went very quiet, very still, especially now I came behind Mase, pulled him back into me, and slipped a finger to my mouth for Dave’s eyes only. Cutter’s razor was now held inches from Mase’s throat.

Good ol’ Dave could have made the perfect mouse for how he never made a noise.

“Mart,” Mase started to say, but a grab of the hair that forced his gaze up reminded him that this was my game, my rules.

I smiled over Mase’s shoulder, looking at Dave. “What do you want from me, Mase?” I kissed at his neck.

“Christ... I....” One hand tried to blindly search back along my body. “Fuck. Can you just fuck me, please?”

“You need to know,” I whispered, biting playfully at his ear. “I like it rough, I like it kinky.”

“Yeah,” breathed Mase. “Heard that too.”

“Yeah?” I kissed at his neck, gently bit, all the time keeping an eye on Dave and the multitude of expressions and emotions playing over there in his corner. The blade hadn’t touched Mase yet, but the look there was stunning: the need to get free, to protect what was his. “What did you hear?”

Letting go of his hair, I traced down over his abs and snuck a hand into his jeans. Oh yeah, he was practically crying between his legs to be fucked.

“Kinky,” he breathed, again pressing into my hand. “Heard that you like it kinky. Fuck... want it—”

“Want what, baby?”

“Kinky. Want it kinky.”

Running the barber razor back along his throat, making him go still as I traced his Adam’s apple, I winked over at Dave. “How kinky?”

“Like that. Rough.”

The razor slipped down to the neck of his T-shirt, now blade side, and a slight nip was given, then the front of the shirt was ripped in two, exposing his abs, making him jerk, making his old man shift heatedly in his seat and stifle a cry.

“Martin? That a chair?” The moment Mase tried to turn his head, a finger against his jaw discouraged it. His abs were on display, and yeah. I made sure the flaps of his torn shirt stayed open. He was fuckable, alright. Tight abs, tanned, he could almost give me a run for my money in the looks department. Almost.

“Trousers,” I said quietly. Where Dave groaned into his gag, Mase was already unbuckling the belt to his jeans in front of me. Candlelight caught a bare arse as he slipped out of his jeans and boxers, and I followed the movements with a slight tilt of head as he finished off the perfect naked pose by shrugging off his shirt. Mmmm. That light dancing on a slim, tight ass looked damn good as I did a slow circle around him. Mase fumbled with his trainers, and I smiled seeing him hop a few steps, his cock slicking and hitting his abs, just before he kicked everything away, leaving him naked to the elements.

“Nice,” I mumbled, taking a lick along the razor blade. I was back in front of him, loving the view, even though his was still blacked out by the blindfold.

“Y’like, Mart?” The smile seemed uncertain, to drop a touch, and the knife came away from me as I watched him.

“You ever been touched intimately before, Mase?”

“Yeah. But—”

“But?”

“But mostly, y’know, quick fucks in the house when my dad’s not around.”

“Doesn’t know you’re gay, huh?”

A nervous smile, so fucking cute too. “Nah. I think he’d be okay, but...”

I ran the back of the blade along his cock and it shivered. “Don’t...” I said quietly, as Mase went to grab instinctively between his thighs. “You’ll cut your hands.”

“You... you wouldn’t hurt me, would you, Mart?” He looked scared, just a little, and I stepped up, kissing gently at his lips, exploring his tongue. All fear seemed to turn into fight as he tongued me back.

“Mart,” he breathed against my lips, hands fighting along my body. “Can I suck your cock, please? Would you let me taste you? I’ve wanted to suck your cock for so long now.”

I bit back a smile. “Knock yourself out, kid.”

I got a bite to my lower lip, then neck, then with hands resting on my pecs, Mase traced his way kisses all the way down my body, biting at cloth, finishing by kneeling all nice and sweet there at my feet. His light touch rested either side of my hips, and he came in close, nibbling at my cock through the material of my jeans.

“Smell so fucking good, Mart. Love how you take care of yourself.”

I stroked through his hair, watching him play. The moment I touched, he reared up, instantly unfastening the clip of my jeans, pulling them down over my hips a touch, then slipping his sweet mouth over my cock.

Fuck, yeah. He’d certainly sucked head before. He took me down to the root, throat muscles completely relaxing as he gripped my ass, pulling and sucking at the same time. “Want to lick the come out of you, Mart.” He pulled back, my cock thudding back against my abs, slick from his mouth, from my own enjoyment of feeling his touch. And, fuck me, he came back in, licking his way up my cock, root to tip, then down again.

“Wanted you to screw me so bad. Will you screw me, please?” A kiss came at my cock, then pushing my T-shirt up, he kissed and licked at my abs. “Fucking hot. Saw you with Jeff in the woods a few months back. Saw you fuck him, and naked... So fucking fit and rough, Mart.”

He was back to licking at my dick, and I had to admit that I liked it.

“Worship the goddamn ground you walk on,” he said quietly.

Taking hold of his hair, I made sure he stayed reared up against me, blindfolded eyes forced on me even if he couldn’t see. His breath still played my abs, my exposed cock leaving traces of me behind on his jaw, and I ran the razor against his cheek, this time letting him feel the blade.

I really needed to fuck him now.

“Don’t... hurt me. Please,” whispered Mase.