Now Comes the Dark (Basic Instincts #1)

Chapter Nine

Reunited

“When did you return?” Roman gasped when Mallon released him after a long, lingering kiss.

Mallon’s hands roamed all across Roman’s torso, feeling him up beneath his clothes.

“About three weeks ago,” he said, pulling Roman’s hips against his own, where the bulk of his hard cock could not be mistaken.

“Oh.” Roman tried to hide his disappointment. They hadn’t exchanged numbers, so how could Mallon have gotten in touch?

Mallon gave him a dimpled smile, reading his displeasure. “Relax. I’ve been busy.” He gripped Roman’s backside in two hands, squeezing his flesh. “This is the first time I’ve been out since getting back. I hoped you would be here.”

Roman brightened, leaning into Mallon’s taut body, relishing how his hands kneaded his arse. “You did?” It could have been a line, but he was happy to fall for it. Roman was already thinking with his hole instead of his head.

Mallon looked hot as hell in a thick, winter jacket. He wouldn’t have thought the same on most other guys, but Mallon could pull off anything. Roman had had no interest in Benito, or any other man since that night in October, and a few seconds with Mallon had him feeling hot and eager. No one else compared. Roman jammed his lips against Mallon’s, hungry for another kiss. He shoved his tongue into his mouth, savouring the taste and scent he remembered so well. He planted his hands on the French man’s butt, pulling their hips even tighter together.

“You’ve missed me,” Mallon said, moving his lips against Roman’s.

Roman nodded, planting kisses along the side of his mouth.

“Have you missed me, or is your ass just hungry for a good fuck?”

Roman’s cock swelled to another dimension. How is it possible to be so turned on?

“I missed everything,” he whispered.

Mallon loosened his hold and gave his butt a playful slap. “Then why are we wasting time in this freezing cold piss hole. Let’s go.”

Roman’s felt his pulse racing all through his body. He hadn’t appreciated how horny he was until Mallon appeared. He’d triggered something inside him that had been switched off since autumn. Lust .

“Let me get my jacket and tell my friends I’m leaving.”

“I’ll wait at the door.”

Roman raced to the table. The conversation was still going round in circles, debating what they could do next.

“Sorry, guys, but I have to leave it here.” He pulled on his jacket and gathered his scarf and gloves.

“Where are you going?” Ashley fixed him with sharp, narrow eyes.

“I just ran into someone I know. We’re going to…catch up.”

“You met someone in the toilet?” Ashley arched a judgemental eyebrow. “Who?”

“You don’t know him.” Roman withered under Ashley’s penetrating stare. “Okay,” he yielded. “It’s someone I met a few months ago. I told you about him. The Frenchman. Mallon.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Anjoa said. “After everything we’ve been talking about, you’re going off for a random hook-up. Jesus. Will you horny guys ever stop thinking with your dicks?”

“It’s not like that,” he argued. “Look… This isn’t some weirdo. I know him. I trust him.”

Ashley shook his head. “Unbelievable. We’re fighting a losing battle here. How can we expect guys to stay safe when just one sniff of cock is all it takes to make them run headlong into danger?”

“Come on. You’re being a drama queen. I’m not taking any risks. I already know Mallon. Besides, he’s just been in here, so he’s going to be all over the CCTV footage. If I don’t come home tomorrow, you’ll know who to look for.”

“Don’t make light of this,” Phil said, fixing him with a serious stare. “It’s not a thing to joke about. Take every precaution. Text Ashley later to let him know where you are. And share you location if you go back to this man’s place instead of home.”

“All right, I will. But this is the guy who saved me from a group attack last October. I don’t think he’s about to turn on me now.”

“Just do it to keep us from worrying, okay?”

He raised his hands in submission. “I will. But you’re wrong about this man. I’ll be in no danger with him.”

As Roman walked away Ashley called after him, “I hope you’re fucking right, ’cause you might not wake up tomorrow otherwise.”

There was no point in arguing. They would keep him here all night if he allowed them to.

Mallon waited at the front door, smoking a cigarette. He turned his head slightly and gave an eyebrow twitch of acknowledgement. Roman shivered and fastened his coat, wrapping the scarf around his neck. The temperature had plummeted in the time he’d been inside.

“Shall we get an Uber?” Roman asked.

“We can walk to the taxi rank,” Mallon answered. “It’s not far, and it’s not late. You’ll be safe with me.”

Roman fell into step beside him, and they headed up Salvin Road. It didn’t escape his notice that he’d been walking this exact route, from Julie’s to the taxi rank, when they’d first encountered each other.

Two uniformed police officers passed by on the other side of the road. If they had bothered with more regular patrols last year, Roman and Mallon might never have met.

“A lot of cops about,” Mallon observed. “Did you report what happened to you last year?”

“I did.”

“Did they ever catch the men who attacked you?”

“No. I don’t think they ever looked.”

“Typical.” He paused to stub out his cigarette in a waste bin. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. “That’s the third group of cops I’ve seen all night. What’s the emergency?”

The cold bit into Roman’s ears, and he pulled his hat lower to cover the tips. “Don’t you know about the murders?”

Mallon turned to look at him. “I remember hearing something last time I was here. Haven’t they caught who was responsible for that, either?”

It seemed incredible that Mallon knew so little about what was going on when it was such a hot topic for everyone he knew. Then he remembered two major factors. Mallon didn’t live here. He was a visiting businessman. And even more relevant, the mainstream coverage of the killings had been minimal. A couple of the national newspapers had run with the story after the two most recent murders, but they had revelled in the salacious details of the victim’s lifestyle, coming to blame them and their behaviour for their deaths. There had been nothing major since. He wondered if anyone outside of Blyham’s LGBTQ community were even aware of the troubles. From what Mallon had just said, it sounded unlikely.

Roman filled him in on the Blyham Strangler.

“Five men dead so far, and the police are no closer to catching the killer. Do you remember Cameron? The guy you were with in The Viaduct on the night you met me?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

“Should I?”

“I suppose not. Only he’s one of the victims.”

Mallon swore in French and shook his head. “Five dead queer men is not the same, is it? If someone murdered five straight guys from a football team, or golf buddies, they would throw every resource into catching their killer. No?” There was a bitter tone to his voice.

“It feels that way.” Roman glanced over his shoulder. The two police officers were out of sight. It was hard not to feel anger towards them. How long would they continue to patrol the streets, anyway? If no one fell victim to the killer in the next few weeks, they would drift back to their important duties. If the Blyham Strangler wanted to remain at large, all they had to do was wait. The cops would disappear soon enough.

Roman was freezing by the time they reached they taxi rank. The cold had seeped through his boots and chilled him from the toes upwards. He was relieved to see three cars at the kerb and no one waiting for them. They jumped into the back and Mallon gave the driver an address. No discussion over where they were going, Roman’s place or his. Roman didn’t mind. It would make everything a lot simpler if Mallon didn’t have to face a pissy Ashley in the morning.

He slid close to Mallon on the back seat, pressing their legs together and shivering.

“Soon you’ll be warm,” Mallon assured him, sliding his gloved hand up Roman’s thigh, letting it rest against his crotch.

Despite the cold, Roman’s cock stiffened. This was not where he had expected his evening to end, but he was thrilled at the development.

The taxi drove along the waterfront, passing by The Vermont Hotel without stopping.

“We’re not getting out. Are you staying somewhere else now.”

Mallon leaned closer, his breath hot against Roman’s face. “You’ll see.” He gave his thigh a squeeze.

The taxi came to a stop in front of a new building that been completed approximately two years ago. It was modern and minimal and didn’t really suit the architecture of the waterfront. One of the those building Roman saw most days without ever paying any interest. They got out, and Mallon paid the driver. As Roman looked up at the building, which had to be at least twelve storeys high, he realised it was a fancy apartment block with balconies looking out onto the river.

“You’re staying here?” he asked as Mallon came up beside him and tapped his arse, encouraging him to the main entrance.

“It’s cheaper than the hotel now that I have to be here for more than a few nights. Alas, no penthouse apartment, but it’s sufficient for the time I spend here.”

He used a key card to enter the secure door, leading into to a fancy foyer. It was still one-hundred-percent nicer than any of the hotels Roman had stayed in, except for his night with Mallon at the Vermont. He moved towards the elevator.

“We can take the stairs,” Mallon said with a smile, guiding him to a passageway on the left. “I told you, no penthouse. My apartment is on the first floor.”

Mallon’s word caused Roman to lower his expectations, which was a mistake. Mallon’s apartment was much bigger and swankier than the room he’d had at the hotel. The main living area was open plan with a high-end kitchen area on one side, all modern white units and black granite surfaces, while there were brown leather sofas and a huge mahogany coffee table in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a balcony terrace.

“Fuck,” Roman gasped. “What the hell is the penthouse like, if this is what you get on the first floor?”

“I don’t know,” Mallon said, taking off his jacket and hanging it over a chair at the breakfast bar. “I haven’t been up to see. But this will do for now.”

“What do you do to be able to afford all this?” The words were out before Roman could stop them. He knew it was rude, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know.

“I’m a project manager. Ever heard of AgeronBus?”

“No. Never.”

“You will. It’s a French engineering and manufacturing company. We are expanding with a new factory right here on an estate outside of the city. A lot of jobs and investments will come on the back of it. It will soon be a very big deal in Blyham” Mallon moved behind the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. “Vodka for you, right?”

“Great,” Roman said, pulling off his gloves and scarf and attempting to brush his hair into some kind of style. He took off his coat and hung it over the back of a chair beside Mallon’s. He knew he should text Ashley and let him know where he was, especially after the fuss they had made, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood. He would do it in a while.

There was nothing personal about the apartment—no family photos or books, not even a stray magazine lying around. It was just as anonymous as the hotel room where he’d stayed before.

“How long are you here for?” he asked.

“The lease is for six months,” Mallon said, pouring a generous splash of whisky. “It can be extended if needs be. I won’t be here all that time, though. I’ll be travelling back and forth between Blyham and Lyon.”

“Wow. That’s quite a lifestyle.” Roman was quietly pleased to hear Mallon would be around longer than expected. If he were lucky, this didn’t have to be such a casual arrangement.

Mallon came from behind the counter, moving with languid sensuality. His jeans hugged his long limbs, bulging at the crotch. He wore a navy-and-white striped sweater, which hung beautifully on his wide shoulders and toned chest. He handed Roman his drink and raised his own glass.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Roman gazed into his pale grey eyes as they clinked glasses. Shit. He’s even sexier than I remembered . He sipped the drink, which was a lot more vodka than mixer. “Whoa. That’s strong.”

“It’s good, though. None of that cheap shit you drink in the bars.”

Roman laughed. “Cheap shit is all I can afford. You’ll get used to it, if you stick around long enough.”

“I’ll never get used to such inferior muck,” Mallon grimaced. He sat on the sofa and crossed an ankle over his knee, a pose Roman remembered so well. “I’ve missed your ass.”

Roman laughed uncertainly. Mallon’s directness could be beguiling. “Don’t you get all the arse you want in France?”

Mallon cocked an eyebrow and his dimples deepened. “Not like yours. Take off your pants. Show me what I missed.”

Roman glanced at the huge windows. He could see across the river and lights in the buildings on the other side. “They’ll see.”

“They can’t see. It’s too far. Stop delaying. Ass now, please.”

His boldness was impossible to resist. Roman put his drink on the coffee table and sat to remove his winter walking boots. He was aware of Mallon watching every move as he stood again and undid his belt and fly. His shoved his jeans to his ankles and stepped out of them. When he’d come out this evening, he’d had no plans to go home with anyone, and the underpants he’d chosen were functional rather than sexy—a pair of thick, navy trunks that came midway down his thigh.

“I didn’t expect to meet you tonight,” he said, tugging at the heavy cotton.

Mallon sipped his whisky and licked his lips. “You know what to do. Turn around and take them off.”

Since the last time, Roman had fantasied about this moment. He knew what Mallon liked and how to give to him. So what if his pants had been chosen for the cold weather… He was more than willing to deliver. He slipped his boxer-briefs down slowly, revealing his buttocks an inch at a time…lower, lower, until his full arse was on display. He raised the hem of his sweater to present an unhindered view, transferring weight from one leg to the other to make his arse swell. Then he shucked his trunks all the way down and off. He straightened, planted both hands on his cheeks and spread himself slowly, revealing his hole.

Mallon made a noise from deep in his throat, then he was off the sofa and on his knees right behind him. Mallon gripped Roman’s waist, and he buried his face in his crack. Roman gasped and rose onto his toes as Mallon’s tongue went straight for his hole, swirling around the rim with deliciously wet strokes.

“Oh my God.” Roman’s entire body shuddered. He’d forgotten just how great Mallon was at eating arse.

The Frenchman devoured him like a feast—slurping, probing, tasting, inhaling, enjoying his arse to the full. Roman touched his own cock, which was as hard as steel, leaking pre-cum down the length of the shaft to his balls.

Mallon pulled him to the floor, then rolled him onto his side. “I need to be inside you.” He fumbled with his clothes, shoving his jeans and underwear to his knees. He produced a small sachet of lube from somewhere and tore into it with his teeth. Wet, sticky fingers slivered into Roman’s crack, going straight for his hole and pushing inside. Roman arched his back and gave his body up.

Mallon moved tight behind him. Roman raised his right leg and held the back of his thigh to give easy access. He shivered when the wet tip of Mallon’s cock grazed his hole, then the wonderful pressure as Mallon leaned his hips into him and his cock spread his opening. Roman took a deep breath as Mallon stretched him and held it until he pushed through his sphincter. Mallon’s cock slipped all the way inside.

“Oh God,” Roman cried, resting his head on his outstretched arm, relishing the sensations of being totally impaled.

Mallon’s mouth fastened on the back of Roman’s neck, biting gently as he thrust. He snarled and gripped him tighter. Nothing compared to the feeling of being so thoroughly filled by a huge dick. They groaned in unison. Mallon bucked and shoved, utterly consumed by passion. Roman willed his body to open farther and pushed back against him. Three months of unspent desire for each other made Roman dizzy. They rutted and shoved like animals. Mallon came quickly. With a roar he buried his cock to the hilt and filled Roman with his load. The pulse of Mallon’s cock inside was all Roman needed to trigger his own release, and he unloaded all over the bland cream carpet.

“Oh, man,” Mallon groaned, leaving his cock inside when he was done. “I needed this ass even more than I anticipated.”