7 Cutter
I DON’T KNOW WHAT MAKES me stop on my way through the main house. The lights dim, telling me the next act is coming on. The music starts, the relentless beat of an old NIN song. Only one dancer here would choose music like that.
And there he is, strolling onto the stage like he owns it.
Dressed like it, too. Like he just walked out of a board meeting. Sharp suit. Chin length brown hair ruthlessly slicked back like a Wall Street shark. Moving with a haughty, ‘I’m better than you’ swagger.
The casual way he drags a chair out. Discards his jacket onto it. Like possessions don’t mean anything to him.
I tell myself to look away. I’ve got a job to do.
And yet I keep watching.
His hips rotate and I feel my dick start to harden.
Imagine him moving like that against me.
He grabs his crotch and I bite my lip.
Look away.
He reaches for the tie, his eyes scanning the room. And that’s when I feel it.
His eyes locking onto mine.
I don’t know how he sees me back here, but I can feel his attention like a physical touch.
When he licks his lips, I can taste it.
When he drags his hands over his skin I can feel it.
What the fuck is he doing to me?
Look the fuck away.
Even if I wanted to leave, I can’t. At least, not until my dick calms down.
Luckily it’s dark enough in here to hide the prominent bulge in my pants.
His shirt hits the floor, revealing the intricate black and red Chinese dragon that crawls up his left side from his lower hip to his shoulder. The ink seems to come alive when he writhes his body to the beat of the music.
He’s doing more than just dancing up there. It’s like he’s…fucking.
I swallow.
You could cut the sexual tension in the room with a knife.
Every calculated move brings a physical reaction from the audience.
And when he finally peels that suggestion of a thong off and tosses it over his shoulder, my cock nearly explodes.
How can I come from just watching someone take off their clothes?
And a man.
This man in particular.
I’m aware of my pulse thundering in my ears as I watch him prowl up and down the stage.
Completely naked.
Then he touches himself, his finger running across his glistening head before bringing it to his lips.
His tongue flicks out before he sucks the finger in.
I swallow a moan.
I might have temporarily blacked out for a second.
Mercifully the song ends, along with my torment.
I can finally breathe again.
Seriously, get your shit together.
This is Aubie Gauthier we’re talking about.
The definition of bad decisions.
I make my way to the restroom and splash some cold water on my face, pressing my crotch against the cool porcelain. Closest thing to a cold shower I can think of right now.
This is ridiculous.
I’ve seen dozens of men strip in this club.
Never had this reaction.
Maybe Daryl’s right. Maybe I need to get out. Meet people.
Get laid.
It’s sexual frustration.
That’s got to be it.
I pull out my phone and scroll through the hockey scores to refocus my mind until my dick starts to soften.
When I have myself under control, I emerge and head for the lobby, which is where I was headed before that unfortunate detour. After checking that everything’s running smoothly there, I start my rounds.
Front door.
Theater.
Back door.
I’m feeling more or less normal as I make my way toward the rear exit. And then he steps around the corner.
Before I can stop it, my breath hitches.
At least he’s dressed now.
We stare at each other for half a minute, then his lips curl up in that hated smirk.
“It must kill you, huh? I know it does me.”
“What?” I ask hoarsely.
He steps closer.
Close enough that I can see the green and amber flecks in his gray eyes. The slight sheen of sweat still coating his body. Why does that thought make my mouth water?
“This…attraction. Compulsion. Whatever it is.”
He sounds like he’s no more a fan of it than I am.
I plead ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grins then reaches out and places a single finger against my lower lip.
Same finger he sucked into his mouth.
His skin is warm.
Soft.
“Deny it all you want, but I’ll leave you with this.” He leans closer and drops his voice. “If I was able to do that to you from across the room, imagine what I could do with full body contact.”
That’s the problem.
I am imagining it. To the point that it’s becoming a distraction.
And it’s pissing me off.
“Fuck off, Aubie.”
“Anything you say…lover.”
He winks before turning and strolling down the hall to the exit. I can almost hear the music again as I watch his hips roll as he pushes open the door.
I don’t know how long I stand there staring at the door until someone clears their throat next to me.
“You okay, big guy?” Izzy asks.
“Fine. Just…thinking.” Thinking? Way to sound like an idiot.
“You look a little lost. When’s the last time you took a day off?”
I shake my head and attempt a smile. “No need.”
I leave her standing there while I head for the back door to check the parking lot. Hopefully Aubie is gone by now because I do not have it in me to face another encounter tonight.
? ? ?
The downstairs neighbor’s dog is barking again as I make my way up to my apartment. I really should move out of this complex. Find a nice house. Daryl pays me well enough.
I just don’t see the point. I don’t need anything more than what I have.
I hang up my jacket on the hook by the door and drop the bag with my dinner on the coffee table before heading to the fridge for a can of ginger ale.
Plopping on the couch, I unwrap my burger then grab the remote to turn on the TV.
I should try to get some sleep, but after what happened earlier at the club, I’m too wired to go to bed.
I’ll just check out what new videos have dropped.
I’ve kind of become addicted to those lawn clean up ones lately.
Something soothing about watching all those weeds disappear like magic.
Wish I had some of that kind of magic for my life.
I pull out my phone and am about to toss it on the coffee table when I notice I have a new message. I still haven’t listened to the ones from my mother or Callum–I can imagine what that’s about.
This is from another number. Left earlier tonight. Curious, I let it play.
“Cutter, I know I told you I didn’t want to hear from you, but I just really need to talk to someone, and well, we used to be able to do that…Look, ignore that. I’m just being a silly girl. Bye.”
Amber.
My brother’s ex.
Once upon a time my fiancé.
Not opening that can of worms. I haven’t had a drink in twenty-eight months. Why tempt fate?
And yet that doesn’t stop the IMAX video from playing in my head.
I’m excited. Practice ended earlier than I expected, giving me plenty of time to get everything ready for tonight. Amber has a late class and won’t be home till after six. I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything about our anniversary. All I can figure is she’s testing me to see if I remember.
How could I forget?
Four years.
The best four years of my life.
I know we said we’d wait till after we graduated from college to get married, but we practically live together now. What are we waiting for? I’ve known since I first set eyes on her that I wanted to spend my life with her, and I intend to tell her that tonight.
I notice Amber’s purse on the table by the door when I enter the apartment. Maybe her class got cancelled. I drop my gym bag and head back toward the bedroom.
“Babe? You got out early?”
A lot of things happen when I open that door, none of them good.
Their faces.
Amber’s twisted with guilt.
The sheet pulled tight against her body. Like I haven’t seen her naked before.
Of course, not like this.
And him? He flashes that same sheepish grin he uses on our mother.
The, ‘oops, you caught me’ look.
Because he always gets away with it.
We’re all just here for his amusement.
My own fucking brother.
I knew he was a snake, I just didn’t know how low he could go.
How low they both could go.
I don’t remember leaving.
Don’t remember that first drink.
That first bottle.
By the time I became aware of myself again, I was too deep into the hole to crawl out.
I said and did a lot of things I’m not proud of.
A lot of things I don’t remember.
A lot I wish I could forget.
It’s all a blur now.
Five whole years spent at the bottom of a well.
Wrecking whatever life I had built for myself.
Driving away whatever friends I had.
All but one.
And that’s all I need anymore.
Because people lie.
Amber lied when she said she loved me. Lied again when she said it was just a one-time thing. Because she stayed with him for three months. Until the next shiny object caught his eye and he tossed her aside.
Because that’s who he is.
Callum Knight.
The biggest piece of shit that ever walked the earth.
Lucky me he just happens to be my brother.
I don’t feel the old craving, but I scroll to the familiar number on my phone anyway. It rings three, four times, and I start to hang up. It’s way too late to be calling people.
He answers on the fifth ring, his voice sleep gruff. “Cutter? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“I know. I just…” What? You woke the man up, now say something.
“It’s okay,” Sammy says, sounding more coherent. “We all have our triggers. You want to talk about it, or I can regale you with tales of our twin terrors. They’re going on three now, you know.”
Jesus, I forgot about the twins. I remember he used to talk about how little sleep he and his wife got after they were born. “No, that’s okay. I apologize for waking you.”
“No need, brother. That’s what I’m here for. Now what’s keeping you up tonight?”
“Nothing. It was just a phone call. Actually, a voice message.”
“Ah,” he says like he understands. “How do you feel right now?”
I sigh. “Better. Just hearing your voice…”
“I am told I have a soothing voice.”
“Fuck you,” I laugh. Just talking to Sammy has helped. He’s a good sponsor. “I’m sorry I called.”
“Don’t be. I’m always here if you need me.”
“Thanks, Sammy.”