Don't... (14 page)

I backed him up against the table, my lips tasting his, maybe feeling the stings off my cuts for the first time since the workout had started. “Jack,” Jan started to say, but I laid him down with a gentle push to his shoulders, pushed his shirt up his torso, and ran my tongue from trouser line to navel.

“Oooohkay,” said Jan, melting back down. “Nice and friendly, the people around here.” He added a groan as I pulled his cock free and tongued him root almost to tip.

“Fuck...” He sounded good breathless, and I teased teeth at the base of his cock as I thumbed the tip. “Whoa,” he said, half rising, half-heartedly trying to lift my head, then falling back down. “Jack, should—uh—should we do this—Christ.” Another groan. “H-here? Really?”

How fucking sheltered had his sex life been?

“Jack?”

I looked up to find his nervous gaze back on the door, and I chuckled. Shifting slightly, I pulled some keys out of my pocket. “Don’t move.” Waiting until he looked down, I licked at his shaft to make sure he got the point.

He gave this sultry smile, one that had me locking the dojo doors and back drawing his legs onto my shoulders. A quick tug at the rim of Jan’s trousers exposed the curve of his fine ass against me. Yet I was careful to keep myself covered.

“So,” said Jan, stroking his cock. Or I assumed he was; he was lost now under the ruffled shirt. “Missed me, huh?”

I worked my cock free, the hardness as I rubbed between trouser and ass almost painful. I needed closure from last night. I needed him. “Fuck,” I growled, remembering I’d no condoms with me.

“What?”

“No... y’know.”

With a grab at his jacket, Jan then sorted around in his pockets, eventually pulling out something that made me smile.

“Missed me, huh?” I said, taking the condom off him and then suiting up in Olympic speed. “Get them duty free?”

I got a wicked smile. “Yeah, shut up and fuck me now, martial arts guy.”

Although he was grinning, he’d added a whole new kick to this with that command, and hand on cock, my push into Jan was tight, almost asphyxiating. It caused me to shiver. Yet it was that slight frown to Jan’s brow, bite of lip, and drop back of head to expose his long throat that caught my breath. He had a gorgeous sex-face.

“Mine,” I murmured, and took him with long, gentle strokes, as much drawn to watching as I was to feeling his body move against mine. Hands above his head, Jan gripped the rim of the table, and wrapped his legs around my waist, pulling me in one way, steadying us both the other.

I pushed his shirt up, exposing his cock, how it rode up his stomach with each stroke he took, and I know I groaned seeing it, then pounded harder as I worked the anger crying for release.

“Christ, Jack.” Jan cried out. I think I followed the same warning, pulling out, taking off the condom and coming over his thigh. I watched milk spill on his tanned skin, just touching the crease between thigh and groin, and it didn’t feel like I was going to stop. My hand still worked Jan and he writhed and twisted, so close to finding his.

Shuddering through mine, I kissed at the base of his cock, worked my way up, just teasing.

“Jack—” A condom brushed my cheek. “—use this.”

I stilled, fingers digging into Jan’s hips, forcing out a hiss from him as he bucked, cock slicking my cheek. Condom brushed aside, I took as much of his cock as I could. I’d lied; I wasn’t bigger than him, and he’d been the perfect gentleman by humouring me.

Jan went deathly silent and his whole body tensed. I panicked for a moment, then realised it was just the way he came, so quiet on final release, as though it was something to be revered, given sole attention, pure focus, and nothing gave me greater pleasure knowing I could take him to that place. A final cry, his come hit the back of my throat, and I took him for every ounce.

“Jack....” His body relaxed and Jan growled a groan. It registered then how much my scalp hurt. He might be quiet, but he’d grabbed it at some point, fisting through the strands. “I... Jesus.” He groaned. “I didn’t mean to come, not then. I’m—”

I kissed my way up his stomach and flicked my tongue over a nipple.

“I’m sorry.”

I frowned up at him. “Sorry? You keep saying that. Why the hell are you sorry?” I danced my eyebrows. “You
were
one up on me.”

Jan brushed his hand against my cheek. “Ah. So it’s a competition, is it?” He didn’t look as happy as he sounded, in fact there was a sadness there that made me kiss him hard.

“Shop talk,” I said, brushing my nose against the stubble on his cheek. “I’m pretty lousy at it.” I snuggled into his throat and linked our fingers, holding him out almost for sacrifice. “I missed the fuck out of you, Jan.”

“Mmmmm.” He pushed his chest up, forcing my lips level to his so he could kiss me. “Better.”

I chuckled and heard his groan as I pushed away. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

After heading on through to the restroom, I tucked the condom I’d used in some tissue and flushed it down the toilet. Watching it disappear, I tightened my grip around the handle as the need to find a toothbrush and floss started to bubble to the surface. Taking care of myself as best as I could, I dampened some towels, then headed back out to Jan. He looked sexy as fuck still sprawled across the table, and I took my time cleaning him up. Not saying much, just enjoying seeing, and being seen in return.

“Trip go okay?” I said as Jan slipped his trousers over his ass.

“Trip?”

“Hmmm.” I grinned. He had this dopey look on his face. I think he mirrored me. “You were gone for twenty-four hours, remember?”

Jan flicked a look over. “My day just got a whole lot better, if that means anything.”

Making sure we’d had no spills, I wiped at the table, then checked the floor. “Oh yeah? Why?” I huffed as my bag hit my side and fell to the floor. “Oh,” I said, grinning at Jan. “Right.”

“Fuck you.”

Bag slung over shoulder, I went and put my arm around Jan and pulled him into a half hug. “Partial service over, how about I take you home and see to the rest of that body of yours? Food, beer, bath?”

“You saying I need one?”

“A bath? Nah. Just used to throwing a wash in free with most services.”

An elbow slammed my ribs. From how it hurt I thought about asking if he’d fancy being initiated. But then, I actually needed to get some teaching done in class; Jan would be more than just a distraction.

“Home, James,” he said in this real formal voice, and I politely reminded him that I was Jack, and he was driving. James would have to walk.

“How did you know I was here anyway?” I said as we headed for our cars.

“I popped to yours first and this guy, Ken? He told me where you were.”

I mouthed an
Oh,
then made a note to self to buy Ken a big bottle of whiskey, a real large, expensive whiskey.

Following Jan in my car, I drove through to Park Village West, just East of Regents Park, to a detached Nash Villa. Didn’t really expect anything less from Jan, really. He gave me a modest tour, and although the home oozed style: high-gloss white kitchen design with black granite surfaces, leading through to a lounge that articulated that startling white theme of the rest of the house (the odd red cushion tossed here and there on two huge white leather settees), six bedrooms (and two en suites), Jan still looked a little lost in here despite his suit and tie.

“Beer?”

“Shoot,” I said, lifting the bags I’d brought onto the counter. I felt a little odd too, like I didn’t want to dirty such a beautiful show home. Which was damn strange coming from me.

“Mind if I shower while you cook?” said Jan, handing me a cool beer. “Go ahead,” I said taking a sip, then starting to pull the food out of the bag. I’d kept it simple: spaghetti, sauce, mince, a mix of fresh veggies for a nice spaghetti bolognaise.

“Where do you hide your cooking utensils?”

With a boyish rub at his eyes that made me smile, Jan headed over by the cooker and tapped lightly at a unit. An assortment of pots and pans slid out.

“You got a wok in there?”

“For bolognaise?” said Jan, fighting a yawn.

“Just comfortable throwing it all into something big,” I said, selecting one of the knives on display. “You mind?”

“Not at all,” said Jan. He came over and placed it next to the mince.

“You okay finding everything?”

“Sure, you go shower.” A kiss graced my cheek and I turned to look at him a little surprised. “What’s that for?”

Jan shrugged. “Just feels good, this whole....” He swept a hand around the kitchen. “You, this.” That insecurity in his smile. “Us.”

I leaned in and kissed his cheek, wondering just how long he’d been that someone’s bit on the side. “Us,” I said softly; it was easy to be gentle around him. “Go take a shower,” I added, and I set to work on the onions.

By the time he’d finished, the bolognaise was ready and I was straining the pasta. He came padding in rubbing his hair with a towel, and I frowned seeing he’d put on fresh shirt, tie, and trousers.

“Can I ask something?” I said over to him.

“Shoot.” The soft clatter of plates filtered over as he set the table.

“How long were you your ex’s bit on the side?”

Jan took a seat. “You’re gonna think I’m a right ass.”

I glanced at him as I served the pasta.

“Ten years.”

“Your mechanic?”

Jan shook his head as he watched me. He had these beautiful square plates, black, contrasting gorgeously with the whiteness of the kitchen, his long rectangle dining table, and I caught his frown when I nudged his plate into alignment with mine.

“I didn’t actually sleep with him,” he said quietly. “The mechanic,” he added when I frowned at him. I didn’t ask why; I wanted this to come under his steam. “I jumped in too soon after my break up with Rob. It didn’t feel right.”

Ah,
he
had a name now. I spooned the bolognaise over the pasta; then I added the wok to Jan’s dishwasher. I’d have to get one of those. “With Rob, he never stayed long here, did he?”

“What makes you say that?”

I looked at him as I sat down. “Jan, you’ve just come home from an overseas business trip, you’re obviously knackered, you need to relax, yet you’ve still dressed to impress.”

Jan looked down at his suit. When he met my eyes again, they were a little distant. “Sorry, Jack. I know what you’re getting at. It’s just....”

“Old habits.”

He nodded, and we ate in silence. Both of us were pretty quiet, mine mainly through habit, my own habits, Jan, I couldn’t really decipher what.

“It was good when he was here,” said Jan as he cleared the plates away into the dishwasher. “But he had a wife and kids.” He gave me this sly smile. “Not so bad, I’d managed being his secret long before she was on the scene.”

I followed him through to the lounge wondering what the hell it must have been like for him to watch his lover get married, have kids.

“But then I caught him with another guy.” He sat a distance from me on the sofa. “And I think that gutted me more than finding him with another woman or even his wife.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fucked up lives,” he mumbled, sliding a look over to me.

“He’s an idiot, Jan.” Didn’t stop or hide my guilt; I was just glad Jan added an “Mmmm,” gave a tired yawn, and finally pulled himself over. Thigh slipped between mine, he eased me around and lay down to pinch a cuddle. Contact stung the cuts, and I winced. “You comfortable here, Jack?”

I could smell the shower-fresh of his hair, and the fine strands tickled my nose. “Here or a park bench, makes little difference,” I said quietly, kissing the top of his head. “Feels too good to worry.”

“What I love about you, Jack.”

I eased him up a touch and hooked my fingers under his tie, giving a gentle tug. The knot loosened, allowing me to unfasten the buttons one-by-one on his shirt and slide my hand down his abs. He looked fucking good windswept and chaotic. Breakdown.

“Love?”

“Mmmm,” said Jan, and I could feel him swelling against my thigh. “A park bench or manor house, you seem completely at home.”

I liked the feel of him hardening against my thigh. “You don’t see this as a home, do you?”

Jan shrugged, but I saw it in his eyes. “Mom had this guy who was into her, and I guess he kind of liked me too. That first Christmas he gave me this old beaten up bike with this chain....” His eyes seemed to sparkle as they put some distance between us. “This fucking chain that kept slipping, nearly rubbing my ankle to the bone.” He smiled, but it wasn’t really for me. “He told me he’d bought it from this top-notch bike shop. At ten, only really used to seeing anything top-notch from a distance, I didn’t really care where it came from: it worked. I found out a few years later that he’d taken it from the tip.” His smile faded. “I was mortified, and, knowing few could match up to my old man, I made sure this guy knew it. I pulled every kid trick going, and eventually my mother sacrificed her own happiness for her kid’s tantrums and so-called disgrace.”

That surprised me. Jan didn’t look the type to act out.

He sighed and gave this lopsided smile. “Yeah, pretty shit, huh?” But I was the last one to judge. “Anyway,” he said, “I spent the rest of my life ensuring I had the best: home, life, the rest of that shit. But—”

“You kept the bike?”

Jan frowned down at me. “How’d you know that?”

I brushed the back of my hand against his jaw and saw him tilt into it. “You don’t throw something you love away so easily. I should know.” My time to smile. “I’m a mechanic.”

Jan kissed my hand, then leaned back in and nuzzled against my neck.

“Why I like you, Jack,” he mumbled, his breath broken by a teasing of lips and teeth against my throat. “You’re a shrewd businessman, and I get the feeling you have enough money to get yourself out of the side streets of London. All packaged with this,” a hand slipped under my top to run along my hip, “this damn fucking sexy body, complex mind.” Jan chuckled and it seemed to vibrate straight toward my cock. “You haven’t lost who you are. You’re still... you.”