Chapter Thirteen
“I Thought We Weren’t Going to Do This Again.”
Marc opened the mini-bar and extracted two small bottles of whisky. He held them up for Jason’s inspection. “Will these do?”
“Better than nothing.”
They were in Marc’s hotel room. It had gone one o’clock. He’d had no intention of inviting Jason back, but after what he’d just experienced, all the things he’d seen at The Viaduct, he couldn’t return alone. He would explode if he didn’t have a chance to talk and debrief.
He took a bottle of water from the fridge to loosen the whisky if needed and put them on the coffee table. The executive room was a decent size. It was L-shaped, with the bedroom on one side and a sofa and sitting area around the corner.
He wondered if Theo had filmed in this room or entertained any of his clients and immediately shut down the idea. The lid had to go firmly back on that box for now .
Marc sat in the chair across from Jason and poured his whisky into a tumbler. He added the same amount of water. Jason took his neat.
“I tried to warn you not to go.” Jason sat with one arm along the back of the sofa, his gaze fixed on Marc. Those large blue-green eyes were soft in the lamplight.
“I know. I take full responsibility for myself. And you were right. It was lot.”
“You’re thinking about your brother in there, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying not to.” He swallowed. “But yes. It’s impossible not to. Is that what he was into? Group sex? Orgies?”
Jason crossed his knee over his ankle. It was raining again. Marc had left the curtains open, and it skittered down the window.
“Does it matter if he was? It’s a shock at first. But I don’t think it’s a bad as you think. Everything that goes on in there is consensual. You heard the guy behind the bar. They need to keep everything above board. They can’t risk losing their licence. What was going on looked kind of intense, but it was all harmless. No one really got hurt.”
“Even the guy who got his balls smacked. That had to hurt.”
“You know what I mean. He was doing what he wanted.”
“And that guy with the mask? Shit, that was creepy. How can anyone find that a turn-on?”
Jason let out a soft chuckle. “All the colours of life and sex. Though I’ll admit, the mask was scary. The guy under it was probably a pussy cat. A social worker or primary school teacher.”
“Now, that is a scary thought. ”
“Look, I know it might not seem it, but that place has earned its place in the community. Last year and over the winter, when the Blyham Strangler was at large, The Viaduct offered a safe haven. Where guys could hook up without any fear they were taking a psycho home with them.”
Marc hadn’t thought about it that way. The murders committed by the so-called Blyham Strangler had been horrific, but he didn’t have any first-hand experience of the fear and terror they had caused within the city. Marc didn’t frequent the gay scene and rarely took strangers home for sex. His tame lifestyle hadn’t made him a target for the crazed killer. Theo, on the other hand, would have been right in the thick of it. Living through every terrifying moment. Jesus .
He knocked off the drink and went back to the mini-bar. There was no whisky left. He pulled out a miniature vodka instead and poured it into his glass with a Diet Coke mixer.
“It wasn’t a complete waste of time,” Jason said. He finished his own drink and rose, picking up his jacket. “I’ve got some information to go on and will make a start on tracking Tyrone first thing in the morning.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Marc hadn’t wanted to invite him back tonight, but the thought of him going caused a tightening across his chest. A mild panic.
Jason stood in the middle of the floor. His eyes were catlike in the low lighting. His magnificent body strained against his clothes. Marc remembered what he was wearing underneath.
“It’s getting late. And I want to get started straight away tomorrow.” His face was deadly serious. His gazed locked on Marc. “No time to lose. ”
Marc crossed the floor. Something possessed him. He flung his hand behind Jason’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. Jason responded deeply at first, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue against Marc’s, then he hesitated.
“I thought we agreed this isn’t a good idea,” Jason said.
It was the middle of the night and Marc had just been to a sex club, investigating his brother’s death. He was a businessman, used to making good decisions based on sound evidence and judgement, but right now he couldn’t tell a great idea from a disastrous one. All he knew was that he wanted Jason.
He pressed his hips against him, revealing the full extent of his arousal, and sought his mouth to continue the kiss. Jason’s reluctance disappeared and their mouths opened in passion. Marc’s head was light, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He wrapped his arms around Jason’s torso, his hands searched the muscular planes and ridges of his back. Jason’s own arousal was evident as they ground their bodies together.
“Let me see your jockstrap,” Marc murmured.
Jason licked his lips. “You liked that, did you?”
He nodded. “Do you wear them often?”
Jason grinned, then drew his tongue along Marc’s jaw, all the way to his ear, before he whispered, “Just when I’m feeling hot.”
Marc’s cock throbbed harder. It seemed impossible to be turned on any more than he already was, but Jason kept making him harder and harder.
They broke apart and Jason unfastened his jeans, shoving them to midthigh. His cock strained against the black material of his jock. Marc had never really considered their erotic appeal before. They’d always been something he thought of as practical, a piece of sportswear. But on Jason’s body, they were fit for a far different kind of physical activity.
Jason gripped the bottom of his T-shirt and raised it to show the jockstrap in full. Then he turned around, giving Marc a clear view of his rear. His big, meaty butt was perfectly framed by the black and red straps. He transferred his weight from side to side, flexing his cheeks.
Marc’s dick swelled even harder. He moved close, sliding his palms across Jason’s arse to take a buttock in each hand. He squeezed, savouring the weight and density of his flesh. He pressed his face to Jason’s neck, rubbing the skin, before kissing and tasting the mild saltiness of sweat.
“Your arse is amazing.”
Jason chuckled and pushed back against his hands. He turned his head to seek Marc’s mouth and they kissed again. It was all intoxicating. The heat, smell, contact of his body. The scent of shampoo in his hair, the tobacco notes in his cologne, the detergent on his clothes. Everything about him was arousing.
Marc wanted to go much further than he had the last time. He guided Jason towards the bed and pushed him face down on top of it. Before Jason could react, he fell on top of him and buried his face in his arse. Jason gasped in surprise as Marc parted his cheeks, seeking out his opening.
“Is this all right?” Marc asked.
“Yeah. I’m totally vers. Knock yourself out.”
He savoured all of it. The damp sweat in his crevice, the soft brown hair that coated the lower halves of his cheeks. The hairs in his crack had been trimmed to keep his beautiful, dusky pink opening clear. Jason shuddered when Marc drew his tongue across the smooth skin of his hole and the skin of his arse rippled with gooseflesh. Marc went to work with fervour, teasing Jason with the tip of his tongue, taking delight as he squirmed and pressed his hips into the bed.
“That’s amazing,” Jason whispered.
Marc hadn’t eaten a man’s arse since Jack. His late husband had adored it, and Marc was able to take him to fresh heights of pleasure every time. He’d never imagined he’d want to do this to another man again, but there was something about Jason that drew him in and made him want to relax the barriers he’d put up around himself in the last few years. Marc had never believed he would enjoy this level of intimacy again.
His emotions were in chaos. One minute he was determined he would never have sex with Jason again, and the next he had his face planted in his arse and was tonguing his hole like it was the only thing in his life that mattered. Grief worked in the strangest of ways. Grief for his husband, grief for his brother, it had coloured his life for years.
But Jason was alive and so was he. After the stress of the last few days, they deserved to indulge their deepest desires again. Right now, Marc was nothing but an animal. A creature of instinct. And his instinct was to continue.
“Let’s take off our clothes,” Marc said, pushing back from the bed.
They undressed hurriedly. Marc stripped all the way but was quietly pleased when Jason removed everything but the jockstrap. With a wickedly sexy grin, Jason leapt back on the bed and arranged himself on all fours. His back was arched, and he presented his butt to Marc.
“It’s all yours,” he said. Gazing at Marc over his shoulder, he planted a hand on his right buttock and spread his cheeks. His dark hole glistened with saliva.
Marc raced to the bathroom to retrieve a condom and a bottle of lube. He was from an era when safe sex really mattered and always came prepared. He tore into the packet, never taking his eyes off Jason’s arse as he unrolled the rubber down his hard dick. The last time Jason had fucked him, it was what they’d needed at the time. Now their roles were reversed, and he wanted to experience Jason from the other perspective. He lubed his cock, then applied more to Jason’s hole, pressing into him to prepare the way.
“Is this still all right?” he asked, as Jason’s tight passage gripped his fingers.
“Fuck me,” Jason demanded, holding himself strong on his hands and knees. “I want you inside me.”
Marc swiped his cock up and down the crease, teasing his hole for a moment, before angling to the opening and pushing in. The tightness of his body was instant ecstasy. Marc told hold of Jason’s hips and leaned into him, until his pelvis pressed against Jason’s butt. The view from above was stunning. Jason’s broad back, his compact waist and prime beef arse—now filled with Marc’s cock.
They took a moment to adjust to each other.
The rain rattled heavier against the window.
Marc moved inside him, gently, until Jason demanded more. “Really fuck me. Like the way those guys were getting fucked at the club.”
As his mind flashed back to the hardcore sex he’d seen all around in The Viaduct, Marc gave him what he wanted, pulling back until just the tip remained inside, before thrusting into the depths. He gave it to him with long, steady strokes, increasing in speed and force. The sounds of their skin smacking together obliterated the rain. Jason’s wide back glistened with sweat. Marc ran a hand across his spine, placed it on his shoulder and fucked him even harder. They gasped and grunted together, engrossed in each other, lost in sex.
“Fuck me,” Jason growled through gritted teeth.
Their breath came faster and more ragged. There was no way to prolong this. They were too caught up in the raw, animal passion of their fuck to hold back.
The catch in Marc’s desperate grunts signalled the end. He cried out, helpless, as something inside him tightened, his balls throbbed, the insides spasming in the most intense and pleasurable way.
“Oh, God,” he cried. It was almost too much. The spasms continued all through his groin, building, intensifying, getting stronger, prolonging the exquisite ache as he came. With a roar he buried his cock inside Jason and surrendered to the orgasm as it rode right through him.
Jason let out a deep-throated laugh as they moved apart. He turned to reveal the wet front of his jockstrap. “I didn’t even touch myself,” he gasped. “I just shot my load spontaneously. I’m pretty sure that’s a first.”
It had been a night of many firsts for both of them.
Marc went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returned, Jason had removed his damp jock and lay naked on top of the bed. He gazed at Marc with soulful eyes. “You don’t mind me lying here, do you? Or are you going to chuck me out?”
Marc laughed and flopped face down onto the bed beside him. “No chucking out from me. ”
Jason rolled onto his side. He ran his hand along the curve of Marc’s back. “That’s progress then. I thought we weren’t going to do this again.”
Marc murmured, turning his head to face him. “Neither did I. It doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.”
“Tonight upset you? Going to The Viaduct?”
“Upset is the wrong word. It’s just… I don’t know. Opened my mind. Made me think about Theo in a different way.”
“Just because he went to the club, we have no idea what he used to do in there. And like I said earlier, during the Blyham Strangler days, a lot of guys went there. It was the safest place to go for sex.”
“I’m not judging him for what he used to do. He lived a far more enlightened life than I ever have.”
They lay quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts and listening to the incessant rain.
“I wonder if he was there tonight?” Marc said at last.
“Who?”
“Whoever killed my brother.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know. It just came into my head.”
Jason’s hand lingered in the small of Marc’s back. He said, “If it was anything to do with Soloman Archer, then I very much doubt it. The reason Soloman hires escorts like Theo is because he can’t be seen with other men in public.”
“I guess you’re right. I know you say it’s a safe place, but to me, it just felt dangerous.”
“It’s different, not dangerous. Unlike the other bars across the city, I’m not aware of a single incident of violence being reported in The Viaduct. For Blyham, that’s remarkable. ”
Marc sighed then yawned. “I’m knackered,” he admitted.
“You should sleep. Forget all about this until tomorrow.”
The warmth of Jason’s hand on his back was comforting. “Will you stay?”
Jason moved closer. “If you want me to.”
“I do.”
They got up and slipped beneath the covers. Marc turned his back so Jason could spoon in behind. Despite the turmoil and confusion in his mind, Marc fell asleep within minutes.