Breakdown (34 page)

“Funny.” I said and suddenly moved in close. “Got the perfect thing to cure you of that, boss.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah.” I grabbed an arm around his waist, tugged at his hand, then started singing at the top of my voice, some x-rated shit that needed just the right amount of filthy dancing, a gentle, but deliberate grind of hip against hip. Gray could dance too, more classical, but classical needed a bit of rough every now and again.

“You want to end up back in the West Wing?”

I danced my eyebrows. “With you? Fuck yeah.”

Gray tugged my hands off. “Ed’s security dog,” he said calmly, but he was failing miserably to hold back on his smile. “Or worse. Ed.”

That sobered me pretty quickly. “The old hired help? Pissed off over the cheese, is he?”

“More the champagne,” said Gray, and he indicated I should get my jacket. “That’s a three hundred pound bottle, one Ed had bought. Not wise to keep upsetting my...”

“Fucked-up butler.” Yeah. That was food burned for the next few weeks. I was learning fast how to cook around here lately.

“I’m going to be another few hours here,” said Gray. “There’s a strict no-entry policy on the East Wing. Get your ass in there if you have to. Stay out of trouble.”

“Worried I’ll lead your guests astray?”

Oh that smile was a killer on the balls. “Oh yeah, you leading those particular guests in there astray is my first priority, Jack.” He was taking the piss; I could even see it, but how, fucked if I knew. “Just stay away from Ed,” he added. “And if I were you, I’d put the jacket in the West Wing first. I know Ed all too well; he’ll set his dog on you just for the fun of it.”

“I’ll find someone to hold it for me,” I said as we headed on out. “Don’t suppose you want to see if Ed needs one?” I’d have killed to see that Doberman bite his ass for a change.

Gray gave another raised brow and I shut up then. Almost. “Who was the guy just?” I asked instead.

“A business colleague.”

I gave an “oh,” then smiled down at my feet. That was something, right? Him talking about me to colleagues? And maybe in a good way, not discussing whether said ass should spend a few years in prison? I coughed. Not that it fucking mattered, wasn’t as if we were fucking. “You’re not gonna give me his name, are you?”

“Shaun,” said Gray, walking on ahead. “Master Brennan to you.”

“Master?” My turn with the raised brow even though Gray had his back to me. “Got issues with growing up? He don’t look like no Master to me.”

“You think?” Gray turned to look at me, now walking backwards and throwing me this wicked-ass grin. “I’ll let him know that at our next meeting. I’m sure after tonight he’d love to consider replying in his own unique way.”

“Good with his oral skill, is he?” I hid a grin.

“Mouth, Jack. It’ll get you seriously fucked one of these days.”

“Seriously? What we talking here?
Drag me off to a room and beat the shit out of me
fuck me over. Or more
c’mere, Jack, you show me yours and I’ll show you mine
kind of fuck me up? Because if we’re going to the next stage, I’m all in. You know I’m in, right?” I thought it over. “Or if you want to combine the two, go for a little cop and kink...”

Gray looked back.

“Just saying,” I said, raising my hands. “Give me something for creativity, at least. I mean, some of the tossers you interrogate and rough up, you never felt like sneaking a sneaky length up them, really mess with their bodies as you play with their minds?”

“That would be rape, Jack.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Only if I didn’t agree. And I did say I was up for most things.”

“Most things? You have limits, then?”

“I prefer any guys you rough up to be left alive afterwards, if that helps.”

“No necrophilia.” Gray winked back. “Noted,” he said, then headed on into his manor.

I watched some TV up in Gray’s bedroom, but soon got bored. I’d never been one for Friday night TV. I liked it best when nobody was here, leaving the rooms open to wander through, occasionally scaring the hell out of Gray’s staff who seemed to ghost here as much as I did. I gave up glaring at the closed door. Halfway through arranging Gray’s aftershaves according to size, shape, and colour, I gave up on that too, feeling unease itch a little more than usual, and pulled back, eyes falling on the meds. Yesterday’s doses slept next to a glass, and I’d missed today’s too. Some guy Gray knew, Halliday, had done some head shrink bollocks, and understanding all the little gripes and itches behind not wanting to shake hands, constantly needing to arrange things, to wash, to kick against order, black out and eventually walk, it made a little more sense. Gray helped more. There was no laughter in his eyes over it, no judging, no push to make it happen, just quiet understanding. Yeah, and also that heavy presence to make sure meds were taken and appointments were met.

His quiet. Fucking loved his quiet. It calmed a lot of things, being here. Meds were easier to keep on top of lately, but there were still those times when forgetting was even easier, when it left needing something... just something more to take away the bite.

Vivaldi and his Four Seasons from downstairs picked up pace even from here. Fuck, since when did I recognise classical music? And I switched Gray’s stereo on to some softer shit that drowned it out before taking my meds through to the en suite and downing them with a glass of water.

Gray’s walk-in closet was visible in the mirror off to my left. Door slightly ajar, and water in hand, I headed on over and inched the door open a little further.

Suits hadn’t done much for me in the past, especially the dickheads wearing them, but Gray in one—any of these? I ran the cuff of a shirt through my fingertips, then edged just a few inches closer and let my nose play over the soft material.

Fuck. Every inch smelled of him. Clean, cologned, casual, secure....

Closing my eyes, my free hand traced down my body, just brushing the swelling in my cock. That stir was there, that pull to Gray that kept my body on constant
need to fuck now
around him. I couldn’t put my finger on what he did, even when he wasn’t around. Ghosts.... So many people haunted Gray’s life, none ever allowed to touch; the rare few, me, never allowed to go farther than surface deep and sleep next to him, play my cock along his thigh, but still one of his ghosts just the same. Didn’t really mind being anything, so long as I came with his tag. Yeah, I could be his. Th’fuck I could be his.

He’d been a bastard to begin with. Or I thought he’d been the bastard. Frustration had me calling him all the fucks under the sun after Cutter had been sent down. If he didn’t want to fuck me, why have me here? Why let me get off lying next to him? He’d said nothing, he never said anything, and it had driven me fucking nuts. But then something had changed. Just being close, catching his scent even though I knew I only haunted his home while he was away, keeping his bed warm, it was enough, it became enough.

Quiet. Life became quiet.

And Gray kept coming back, slipping beneath the covers next to me, not touching, not holding, and I’d fall to sleep so fucking quickly just knowing he was there, just feeling he was there. Routine and security, yeah, that’s what it was. Gray wouldn’t want any emotional bollocks, this was just his way of calming life.

Breathing deepened and I briefly screwed my eyes shut before turning away and heading for the bed. The glass went on the nightstand before I climbed in and lay on my side. I’d kept it light tonight, slipping on some of Gray’s black silk PJs, no shirt, and I pulled the covers up over me, leaving just a gap to peek through. Lights were off, just the grey from the moonlight playing through the room as the soft music filtered over from Gray’s music system.

This was Gray’s side, and I twisted my head into the pillow, catching his cologne. My hand had already drifted down my abs, under the silk feel of pyjamas. His scent didn’t seem to go right without mine.

Fuck. One hand gripped the pillow, the back of my other teasing the swelling in my cock, and I stretched into the covers. Everything here, so fucking up close and personal as I stroked my tip against Gray’s pyjamas.

The door had my attention only briefly. Guests seemed a world away, and with Gray giving the order not to come into the East Wing, I had some serious alone time with my body.

From the bedside unit on my side, I shuffled over and took out a wooden box I kept hidden under my boxers and sock drawer. The colours by which the socks were always arranged was enough to say Gray didn’t look. Just as well.

The lube was placed at my side under the covers, then the vibrator came next. Nothing huge, just enough to tease, to play, and I eased back down, arm covering my eyes, the box lost somewhere in the covers.

Just needed... I screwed my eyes shut, brushing a hand down my chest, abdomen, all to stroke through hair, along my cock.

“Mmmmm.” Pre-come slicked my fingers and I used it to trace a gentle trail over my balls, squirming under the intensity of playing my taint, then traced down to my ass, all to brush gentle circles around the tender access point. “Fuck.” Heels dug into the bed as I pushed a fingertip in, feeling the muscle fight, then give. My lip took a bite but I barely noticed it as I slid my finger in up to the knuckle, just playing gently. The position was awkward, but one I took to temper the need to fuck deeper.

Fingering came a little faster, forcing me to arch my back a touch, my grip on the bedstead crying out what I bit back.

“Shit.” More. I needed more. Grabbing the thin silver vibrator, lubing it, then setting it to vibrate, I eased it over a nipple, giving a small smile. It traced my abs, and stomach muscles drew in, the gentle hum making me squirm. The vibrator found my cock, the tip swirling around the wet head, then flattening out against my shaft as I fucked it for a moment, echoes of something else drifting over. It found my balls eventually, adding a little thrust up from my hips. “Fuck.”

The tip hummed next to my hole, then around it, then frustration saw me push it in deep, letting it investigate as much as possible before pulling out sharply and giving a rush of fast, hard strokes. Eyes screwed shut, my free hand found my cock, pace not slowing in my ass as I played my cock.

Heels dug farther into the bed, ass now nearly off the mattress, wanting, needing more, body desperate to come but lacking something, missing something to give it that final push over the edge.

Breathing heavy, I let my body find some peace on the mattress, arm over my face, the vibrator still vibrating deep inside me.

Hot, everything felt so fucking hot. Sweat dampened my body, allowing me to make faint ice-skating trails as fingertips swept over my abs. The scratch of a nail earned a quick draw in of breath, a contraction of muscles, and I bit back a cry. Skin came alive with a grazing touch, one deep enough to just to scratch, almost to...

Bleed.

The need to bleed set every muscle alive, twisting them, writhing from the inside out, taking it higher, starting a fucked-up riot, leaving behind no cure, no need for a cure, just that need to... bleed.

Giving a snarl, one hand working the vibrator, I sorted blindly through the bed covers. Fingers brushed the rough feel of the wooden box, and I bit back that
Christ yes
feeling as my dick glitched, just jolting from knowing what I’d hid inside that box. Breathing heavy, riding the thrill of the vibrator in my ass, I flicked it open. Tipping it up, the false bottom fell out, and life completely stilled seeing what fell onto the covers.

Gray’s barber’s razor caught the light from the window, forcing me to drop my head back on the bed and screw my eyes shut, the pace slower, deeper with the vibrator, yet so close, so close to coming it didn’t matter what pace came now. I needed more, I needed—

Pushing the covers down to my waist, I let the vibrator rest deep between in my ass, sometimes squirming just to feel it in there. One arm fell across my face, hiding the guilt but needing what came next nonetheless, and I traced a touch over the covers, letting the cool steel of Gray’s razorblade brush the pads of my fingers.

“Fuck.” I writhed again, feeling the vibrator shift inside of me, hitting my prostate, as ghosts of my own came out... play.

Didn’t mind, so long as they came with this, with...

Bleed. The gentle stroke of the razor brushed at my hip. Slow... long... shifting from hip to navel, back from navel to hip, damp skin left shivering in its wake.

“Christ.”

The blade had a life of its own as it explored every damp offer of tight skin. Skin, body, and soul applauded, even cheered it on, willing waiters of destruction and not giving a fuck so long as life... bled. The razor traced up to nipple, gently flicking the bud, forcing another arch off the bed as the dangerous tease forced the bud hard. That anticipation... the wait before it cut, before skin broke, split into the quiet of the night, where even the darkness seemed to groan at the willing sacrifice, sometimes it was the best part. Maybe. The threat... razor sharpness shifted down, using its own heavy silver weight to gauge the pressure, innocently snaking through pubes...