Chapter Twenty-One
Alone in the House
When everyone had left and the house was quiet, Jason fell asleep on the sofa. It was dark outside when he woke up. Marc had switched on the lamps around the room and drawn the curtains. The local news played on TV. The volume was turned down low and the subtitles were running.
“Hey,” Jason said. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Marc said. He was sitting on the sofa beside him, his broken arm resting on the edge.
“How long have I been out?”
“A couple of hours.” Marc glanced at the clock. “No, more like three.”
“Shit. I never sleep during the day.”
“You needed it. That’s why I didn’t wake you.”
Nadine had left around four. He must have fallen asleep straight after. “I wanted to make a start on the case. Call Blake Remar.”
“Not today,” Marc said kindly. “You can do that tomorrow. If you’re up to it. ”
Jason was about to argue, then realised he barely had the energy to sit up straight. He was exhausted, in his body and mind. The painkillers must have made him drowsy, but they were wearing off. The hurt in his ribs and ankle was returning. He would resist taking another dose until bedtime. He didn’t like the way they made him feel, and he couldn’t afford to get hooked on them.
“Anything?” he asked, gesturing to the news report.
“Tyrone’s death was mentioned as the fourth feature on the local news. Nothing on the national bulletin.”
“Shit. This has overtaken our entire world and it’s like nobody else even cares.”
“Maybe now we’ve got Nadine on our side, it will improve.”
“Do you trust her?” Jason groaned as he pushed himself into a more upright position.
“Absolutely not,” Marc laughed. “But I think she was genuine today. She might be able to open doors that we haven’t. And when it’s all over, she’ll definitely hold Blyham police to account, I have no doubt on that. She’ll crucify them in print.”
Jason nodded. “No one else is offering to help, so she’s our best bet.”
Marc switched off the TV. Though he’d spent the day fussing over Jason, Marc did not look in the best condition himself. His face was drawn, and his eyes were dull and dark. He looked like he needed a decent meal and a full eight hours’ sleep.
Jason realised he was starving himself.
“How about something to eat?” he suggested.
“I’ll order us a takeaway.” Marc picked up his phone and tapped the screen.
“Not a good idea.” When Marc gave him a puzzled look, he continued. “In case we find ourselves opening the door to our masked friend instead of the delivery. Unless your fridge and cupboards are completely bare, we should leave that as a last resort.”
With a sigh, Marc tipped his head back to gaze at the ceiling. “Will this ever end?” he muttered.
“Yes.” Jason patted his thigh. “It will. And we’ll be able to do all of those normal things again. But until then, we need to take precautions.”
They went into the kitchen and rifled through the options. Most of Marc’s meat was frozen and Jason was too hungry to wait for anything to defrost. He found a dozen eggs in the fridge.
“How about I poach these? Quick, easy and delicious.”
Marc protested, but Jason insisted he sit down and leave the cooking to him. He put a large pan of water on the hob to boil with a splash of vinegar.
“What you just said.” Marc poured them a Diet Coke each and carried his glass to the table. “About things getting back to normal and being able to do regular things. Do you think that could include a traditional date sometime?”
“If that’s you asking me out, then it certainly could.” Jason cocked his head to one side. “Unless you plan on taking me to The Viaduct, of course.”
Marc rapped his fingers in the tabletop. A gentle warmth had returned to his features. “Maybe we’ll keep The Viaduct for a second or third date, eh? Let’s not spoil ourselves all at once.”
Jason kept the mood light and relaxed as he cooked, but deftly removed the largest butcher’s knife from the knife block and placed it within easy reach. Somehow, he would attempt to take it up to bed with them later, hopefully without Marc noticing. When Marc excused himself to use the bathroom, Jason hurriedly double checked that the back door was locked. He’d confirmed the house was secure when Nadine had left that afternoon, but now darkness had fallen, he felt an extra sense of caution.
He put four eggs in the pan to poach and buttered four slices of toast. He’d always been an expert at cooking eggs and this time was no exception. When Marc cut into his and exclaimed delight when the yoke oozed all over the toast, he felt a small sense of pride.
“I’ve always been useless at poaching,” Marc said. “I have mine fried or scrambled because I can never get them right.”
“You’ll just have to have me over to cook them for you again.”
Marc’s smile was the sweetest thing he’d seen all day. After so much angst and worry, its pureness went all the way to Jason’s heart.
“You have an open invitation.”
Jason cleared everything away and found a carton of chocolate ice cream in the freezer, which they had for dessert. Despite his injuries, the increasing pain in his ribs, and the worries of the last few days, this was as close to ordinary as anything he’d ever done with Marc. And he loved it.
He made tea and they sat talking for a while, before deciding they would go up to bed.
Excitement rippled through him at the prospect of spending a night with Marc, but it was tinged with restraint. They were alone in the house. And while its coastal location was idyllic, Marc’s closest neighbours were a good distance away. They would have been safer back in the city. In a hotel, or Jason’s apartment.
Marc seemed to read his mind. “All of the doors and windows downstairs are alarmed. There’s no way for anyone to sneak in unnoticed. ”
Jason gave up on any pretence and picked up the butcher’s knife. “I’ll still sleep easier knowing we’ve got some protection up there.”
They turned off the lights and headed upstairs. It had just gone nine o’clock and despite dozing for much of the afternoon, Jason wanted to go to bed. Marc went ahead of him. It was still a struggle to put weight on the injured ankle and Jason needed to take his time. He copped a look at Marc’s fine arse as he mounted the stairs. It was good to know that stress and trauma had done nothing to dull his attraction for Marc.
In the bedroom, Marc turned on the lamps and shut the curtains.
“Any sign of a police watch?” Jason asked.
“Nah. It’s desolate out there.”
Jason opened the top drawer of the bedside cabinet and slipped the knife inside. “Just in case.”
Marc came towards him, unfastening the buttons of his shirt with his good hand. “Can you help me with this?”
Jason grinned. “Try stopping me.”
Marc untucked his shirt and Jason eased it off his shoulders, asking him to turn around slowly, to extract each of his arms. The bruises on his chest were a horrible, mottled fusion of black, blue and purple. Jason carefully put his hands on Marc’s waist and kissed his collar bone.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“It looks worse than it is.” He shuddered as Jason drew his tongue along the hollow in his throat.
Jason unfastened the cord on Marc’s sweatpants. “Let me help you with these too.”
Marc stepped out of his slippers and let the pants fall to his ankles before kicking them to one side. Contained in a snug pair of white briefs, his hard cock inclined along his left hip. Jason smoothed his fingers across the bulge, feeling it twitch and lean into his touch. Marc sighed.
“I needed a hand with those as well,” Marc said.
Jason slipped his thumbs into the waist and slid them down, releasing his powerful cock. As his briefs dropped, he cupped Marc’s balls in the palm of his hand, gently juggling them in their sack. “Missed these,” he whispered.
“And I’ve missed this.” Marc fondled Jason’s dick with his good hand. Jason groaned.
Jason dropped his own lounge pants and briefs with little effort. The T-shirt would not be so easy. Stretching through the ribs was too intense.
“I’m going to ride you,” Marc said, brushing his cheek against Jason’s.
“Can you manage that?”
“You’re the one with the broken rib. I’ve just got this—” He waved the plastered arm. “Sit back and let me do all the work.”
Jason climbed onto the bed and arranged himself with the pillows propped behind him. His eyes followed Marc as he opened a drawer and produced a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. “You might have to do this part yourself.” Marc tossed him a condom. His cock bobbed as he got onto the bed.
Jason opened the wrapper and rolled the rubber down his dick, all the way to the root. Marc dribbled lube over Jason’s cock, then coated its entire length, his good fist squelching with each pass. Another squirt of lube into his hand then his fingers went to his arse. Jason watched as Marc reached behind, pressing into himself.
“It’s tight,” he gasped, before throwing a leg across Jason’s waist to straddle him .
“Are you sure about this?” Jason asked.
Marc didn’t answer. He reached for Jason’s cock and manoeuvred it into position behind him. The comfort of his crack pressed against the head before he found the opening. Jason put his hands on Marc’s thighs, caressing him. Marc bit his lip in concentration, then lowered his hips, so slowly. He was tight. His hole was like a lock, refusing entry. Marc pushed down more insistently. It seemed impossible that Jason would ever fit in there, until there was a sudden give. His cockhead slipped past the resistance then the path was easy. Marc slid down his length until his buttocks rested on Jason’s thighs.
They sighed with pleasure.
Jason couldn’t take his eyes off his face. Marc’s brow was furrowed, a blend of focus and delight. He licked his lips then drew a deep breath.
“I just need a moment,” Marc whispered.
Jason twitched inside of him. “Take all the time you need. I could stay in your hole all night.”
With a grin, Marc nodded agreement. “Not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
Marc’s cock was as straight and hard as a mast. His balls had drawn tight into their sac. Jason had no concern that Marc was in any discomfort. His cock proved just how much he was enjoying this.
When he was ready, Marc stayed true to his word. He worked Jason with his hips, rising and falling, just a little to start, before lengthening the motion, dragging his hole all the way to the head, before sliding down to the base. He did all the work, riding Jason for both their pleasure.
Pre-cum gathered on the head of Marc’s dick. It glistened in the lamplight, before drooling down his shaft. He gasped and altered the angle of his hips, sending them both into fresh terrains of pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” Jason gasped.
“Mmm,” Marc agreed. “It’s filling me right up. I fucking love it.”
This was a softer kind of sex than they’d experienced before. Jason wanted to grab him, flip him over and pound his arse into the mattress. Neither of them was in any fit state for that. For now, this was perfect.
Marc bucked and writhed on his dick—he bared his teeth and squeezed his nipples with his healthy hand. Jason couldn’t take his eyes off him. The way his body tensed, how his cock bounced with the motion, scattering drops of pre-cum across Jason’s belly.
“Now let me make you shoot,” Marc said. He tightened his sphincter and adjusted the angle.
“Holy fuck,” Jason roared as the movement took him to a new height of ecstasy. He reached a plateau. Marc held him there for what seemed an impossible age. Jason caught a breath and closed his eyes, then suddenly he tipped over and his cock throbbed inside Marc’s arse, blowing one shattering expulsion after another.
He felt a hot gush across his belly as Marc squirted his own massive load.
Jason’s legs trembled as the orgasm continued to course through him, shocking in its intensity.
“Fuck me,” he sighed afterwards. “That was so intense. Amazing.”
“No kidding.” Marc panted, still rooted on his cock.
He wouldn’t have believed it was possible, he’d been transported to another place. For a blessedly short time, he’d had no concerns about murder, or stalkers and who might be out there in the dark, wanting to do them harm.