Don't... (10 page)

“Yeah,” Jan took a swig of his. At least he hadn’t asked for wine. I didn’t do wine either. Catching quiet glances of him eating was fun. He attacked everything with the same
snooze it, lose it
drive. “What about you?” He brought me back with that. “How were your parents on the whole gay scene?”

I shrugged and swirled noodles around my fork. I usually didn’t try to do the past too much either. “I got up close and personal with an eighteen-year-old, and the same old, same old, bullshit: my old man caught us.”

“Ah,” said Jan. “How old were you?”

“Just gone fifteen.” The noodles tasted really good.

“Fiftuh—” He cut his own words off. “Any wonder he was pissed, even if it had been a girl.”

“I didn’t say
he
got pissed. I did.”

Jan frowned.

I really didn’t want to do this. “My old man had actually stood looking all apologetic, even asked if I was playing safe, and I lost it, I suppose. It was a private moment, one no kid wants their old man to see, but, well, there he was, blundering in as usual, all blushes, apologies, putting my safety first over any shock he was feeling.”

“Sounds like a good man,” said Jan quietly.

“He was, still is. I wasn’t.”

Jan was quiet for a moment and seemed to forget his fork hovered a few inches from his mouth. “You hit him.”

“I hit out, not really meaning to hit him; he just seemed to get in the way.” I shrugged; it seemed to brush the event off, but that wasn’t my intent. It was just my only way to express everything I was feeling. “It was the only time. He came back, hitting me hard enough to knock my sorry ass on the floor. It was one of the only two times he laid a finger on me. I’d gone on the defensive expecting this whole huge argument on the gay thing; he went on the defensive, looking more hurt over me swearing and taking a swing at him over catching me in bed with a guy.” I pushed my plate away, not hungry anymore. “I’ve never sworn or raised a hand near my old man since.”

Jan remembered he was supposed to be eating. “You love him.”

I didn’t mind admitting that. “Always have done.”

Jan nodded, looking satisfied. “You said it was the first time he’d hit you. When was the second?”

I took another long sip of beer. “Jan.” I was uncomfortable now. “We’ve known each other for, what? Twelve hours?”

Jan narrowed his eyes, barely visible through that wild fringe. But, damn, so fucking sexy.

“You’ve done time, haven’t you?” said Jan.

Smart bastard.

Something played in his eyes. “In the car, you went quiet over the mention of my father. I thought you didn’t take to the idea I had prison history in my family.”

I’d made him uncomfortable back then? Shit. That hadn’t been my intention. Far from it.

“I know you care for your old man,” said Jan. “Considering you went quiet in the car over mine, I guess the reason for your silence again could only be surrounding prison.” Jan winced. “From the description you gave of your old man, I can’t see him doing time. Soooo?”

I’d tried to avoid this in the car. With Jan’s history with his old man, maybe it was best to get this out of the way now. If he chose to walk away, it wouldn’t hurt so much, right? “Just a few months in juvy.”

“Cars?”

Was I that stereotypical? I nodded. “I was head of the wrong crowd for a few guys from the age of fourteen till my late teens. The old man found out I was stealing cars and selling them on, so he waited for me to go out one night, followed me, watched me take a car, and then he called the police. I tried to run; he caught hold of me and hit me when I said I wouldn’t take the fall for the other guys, even though I’d set the scene up.”

“Huh?” Jan had forgotten he was eating again. I was tempted to reach over and help that fork find a home. Or something. “He sold you out to the cops?”

Looking back, I’d have done the same. “My head was pretty screwed back then.”

Jan scoffed, and I frowned at him over my beer. “Let’s get this right, you had everything a kid could want, a family that loved the bones off you, had no issues with you being gay, and
your
head was screwed.” Jan gave a playful shake of head.

I snorted a laugh despite the dig. “If I’d got what I’d wanted,” I said, taking the tray over to the trashcan, “I’d probably still be penned up in a cage that doesn’t just accommodate my cock.”

Jan groaned happily, and I got the feeling his mind hadn’t gone past the cock cage. I think he had a kinky streak hidden under that all-too-innocent look.

“Weren’t you pissed your old man had dobbed you in?”

“Dobbed?” Boy did that show his more council roots.

Jan glared at me over a scoop of food. “Got a problem with the way I was brought up, posh?”

He had a toughish side, and it set me off chuckling, because I bet the scrawny kid still living somewhere in some run-down street had probably run away from more fights than he’d started.

“He came with me to court.” My beer was empty, so I pinched Jan’s and took a swig. He gave me another one of those killer looks that wanted to protect his drink. Sex, food, beer, Jan went all in for each one. I wouldn’t mind that kind of possessiveness for me, even if it did mean him grabbing me and running away from the hassle. “My old man stood by me when the sentence was read out, then was there when I got out.”

Something washed through Jan’s eyes, a jolt; guilt? And I quickly changed direction. “He got to me early. Seventeen’s not such a tough age. It can be manipulated as much in the right ways as well as the wrong.” Although Gray had played a huge part in that too.
Tell him that, Jack.

He still looked a little sad, that slight frown not something I’d like to see kept there for long. I handed him his beer back. He took it, and I made a point of brushing the back of my hand over his fingers to try and steal that look off his face.

“I think I’d like to meet him,” Jan said quietly.

“Who?”

“Your old man.” He nodded, almost to reassure himself. “What about your mother? How—” Jan’s mobile phone cut him off, and he shifted and pulled it free from his trouser pocket.

“Richards.” There was a sharp business bite to his tone. “Yeah... yeah. No. I haven’t had chance to look over the documents yet.” He looked at me. “Yes... as soon as I can. Bye.”

Jan gave me an apologetic smile as he tucked the phone in his trouser pocket. “Damn. Sorry, Jack. I’ve got to get going. I have a few overseas clients, two particular ones from Germany. I’m flying out tomorrow morning for two separate meetings.”

“Germany?” I was impressed.

“I need a few hours in bed where I actually sleep.” Although he had this smirk to his face that said he might just be lying. And as much as I wanted that, I wouldn’t have minded just letting him sleep, watching, waking him in the morning.

“Ah-hem.” I coughed then and ran my gaze over his chest. “You need a shirt first.” He’d been sitting there shirtless throughout the meal. One of the main reasons I hadn’t been able to concentrate on eating too much: fork-to-mouth became quantum physics sitting opposite that.

Jan looked down at his lack of shirt. Sexy.

“Oh yeah.” He gave an impish grin.

“Take one of mine.” I’d sized him up ages ago so knew he was only a size down from me.

“You sure? I could just slip my jacket on.”

Fuck. Do the whole suit jacket but bare chest? Down boy, down. “And if some reason you get stopped by the cops?”

“Only if you were with me, Jack.”

I ignored that.

“But good point.” Jan disappeared upstairs and came down a few moments later pulling on a shirt. “Thanks. I’ll get it back to you.”

“Keep it.” I waved him off, doing a lousy job of casual. “Looks good on you.”

Jan finished fastening the buttons and smiled over. “Thanks.” Tucking his shirt in, he glanced out the window. “Glad I brought the Jag with me.”

Jan had barely touched his beer, so he was safe to drive. I’d have ordered a taxi otherwise. “You let me know if you have any trouble with him, okay?”

Jan frowned back my way, then gave a soft smile. He came and knelt in front of me. “That sounded like a goodbye.” He sounded a little sad. He tugged at the clasp on my jeans, pulled the zip, and worked my cock free. To my unabashed shame, it was hard long before he’d touched it.

“Now me.” He pulled a condom from his pocket (mine? And obviously a lot more safety-conscious now), sheathed me up, then licked at my tip. I breathed deep,
real
deep, once to ignore the way Jan tossed the rubbish on the table, twice just at the feel of his lips on me. “I don’t do casual.” Jan smiled up. “What would you like to do, though, Jack?”

His cheek was too irresistible not to stroke. “You.” It scared me how good he felt, all so fucking fast. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good answer.”

I sucked in a breath as he sucked my tip. And pretty much nothing else existed after that but the life being sucked out of my cock.

I came hard and rather surprisingly quickly, gripping his hair, resisting every temptation to fuck his mouth. You didn’t fuck Jan, you teased the hell out of his body, watched him squirm, all just to hear him call your name, but you didn’t use him like a disposable sex toy. I’d fucked a few like that, and been fucked like it in return.

Watching me soften, thumb still brushing along my shaft as he held it, nearly making me jerk with how sensitive my tip was, he gave a slight smile. “I’d like to have you for a long time, Jack. No casual, remember?”

I leaned down and kissed him, hard. I wasn’t particularly fond of the taste of condom, but the softness to Jan’s lips as I roughed them up more than made up for it. “Call me when you get back, yeah, Jan?”

Jan tongued me for a minute. “I’ll call you when I get there.” A peck at my nose, which was a little weird, cute kind of weird, but weird nonetheless, then he got up. “I have your number already, gorgeous.”

After sliding the condom off, tying it, ignoring how Jan watched me get some wipes and clean myself down, I took the rubbish to the bin, made sure I was tucked away, then followed him to the door. “You have my office number.”

Jan pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket as I opened the door for him. “I have yours,” he said with a smile. He should sell those on a market somewhere. He stood at the door, hands in his pockets, looking a little shy. “Thanks, Jack. For letting me in.”

I frowned at that, then pulled him into a hold. “It was good to let you in,” I said and brushed his lips with mine.

“Hmmmm.” Eyes closed, he licked his lips. “Letting me in...” He shivered, then pulled away with a smile. “Speak to you tomorrow,” he said, heading for his car. “And you, well, you take care, Jack.”

What else had he gone to say then? “You too, Jan.”

I closed the door and hell if I didn’t have a smile of my own as I leaned back against the door. The world became a little lighter. Feeling tired, I went back into the kitchen and started to clean up. It was getting on for ten, going by the kitchen clock, and my body started to feel it now. The rest of the trays went in the bin, the cutlery in the dishwasher, and I stretched and gave a yawn.

After a quick wipe over of the table, my units, beer bottles put in the recycling, I turned down the lights and headed off to bed. It was still too hot for covers, so I peeled off my jeans and opted for just my boxers as I lay on the bed. The drawer had been open when I came up, a sure sign Jan had been in here, and I smiled at the thought of him finding his way around my things.

“Punishment incurred, Jack.”

I tensed.

“But real good choice in partner, Jack. Sexy. Loved the no shirt, just jacket look.”

I felt sick. Very fucking sick. “You leave him out of this. I wore your fucking cock ring.”

Light breathing. It wasn’t mine. “Ah, but you came, Jack. And if Fear doesn’t Encourage Aggressive Rebellion, don’t...”

I waited. “What?”

My breathing was the only sound as I listened for a finish to the conversation. Nothing was given; and I don’t know how long I lay there waiting before sleep finally pulled me under.

“Coffee, boss?”

My knuckles caught the brunt of the gearbox, and I cursed as the spanner clattered to the floor. “Fuckssake. What?” I snapped back at Sam, ignoring the graze and wishing I could ignore the engine too. No way I was going to stand there sucking on my fingers like a bloody schoolboy, not with bloody rubber gloves that tasted worse than bloody condoms.

“Coffee.” A mug wafted coffee under my nose, and I grabbed it, mumbling a sulky thanks. It tasted damn better than it looked, and I deliberately sighed away some tension.

Jan hadn’t phoned this morning. I hadn’t put him down as a Gray, to deny contact to get a point across.

“So.” Sam stood close to the main hoist whose chains hovered over my engine. “You thought about getting yourself a decent bird, boss? You know, ease some of this tension?”

Great, that was all I fucking needed. I glanced at him over my coffee, and Sam rested his ass against the wing of the car I worked on. He was well within hitting distance.

“Don’t you have enough shit in your own life to be worried over mine?” I was hopeful he’d get the hint and get back to work; Christ knows everybody else was except him.

Sam shrugged and took a sip of his tea. He shifted his ass against the car as if it were a bed he sought comfort in. “I get bored real quick.”

“You’ll be fired real quick unless you get your ass off this car and back to work.”

He nodded, this brother mechanic thing that only he ever seemed to understand. “Well, I’m just, y’know... all that tension and aggression. You just need to get laid boss. I have a friend—”

“
Sam
.” Steve poked his head out of the bonnet of another car, so did a few of the other guys. “Get your goddamn skinny arse back to work. You don’t talk like that to the boss.”

He actually pouted. He’d put my sex life on display, and
he
was pouting. “But you lot know about my shit.”

“Only because you tell us,” Steve, me and just about everyone else in the garage chorused together. I think even one of the customers from in reception joined in too.