Don't... (37 page)

I flinched slightly as I felt Gray’s hand slip around me, sneaking around my waist, and pulling me back to him.

“Interpret Jess for me, Jan.”

“I,” Hmph. Gray had tugged at my shirt, pulling it free of my trousers, all to run fingertips over my abdomen. “contemporary design, to a—a classic representation.” A kiss went to the back of my neck and every muscle in my abs was feather-played as Gray traced his hand to the waistband of my trousers. “As ear-early as the Thirteenth century,” Christ. “men have dressed as women.” I willed the swelling in my trousers down. “The Church forbade the appearance of women on stage. Ironical—” I missed a breath. “Ironical. The Church back then; not allowing women on stage, yet condoning men and boys dressed as women, compared to today’s contemporary attitude.”

I licked my lips, finding them suddenly dry. The red to Jess’s dress—all suddenly vivid, alive, each shift of her body moulding the material to her curves, hip bones; her eyes. I hadn’t noticed before just how blue they were.

“Too distant. You’re still on the outside. Close your eyes, Jan.”

“Ah.”

Gray flicked at my clasp. “What do you see?”

Colours all exploded as Gray stroked against my shaft. “Reds, silk, blues, blacks, heat. An essence: defiance of tradition through colour.” I smiled. “Put her in fire, and Jess would dance and twist with the smoke.”

“What do you smell?”

I groaned. Heat flushed my cheeks as Gray cupped my balls through my boxers.

“Roses, not the sort kept in expensive bottles.” I breathed deep and caught the sweet scent. Or I thought I did. Completely subjective. Reds, silk, life.

“And what... what do you feel?”

I reached behind me and cupped the back of Gray’s head. “You,” I murmured quietly.

A nip at my ear, Gray slipped inside my boxers and took a firm hold of my cock. “You,” Gray whispered. “You just feel you, Jan. Life beyond vanilla restraint, beyond red rope and barriers. You are stepping into the picture.”

I opened my eyes, content to play my hand on Gray’s neck, continue feeling his bites, the handling in my trousers, and I let my free hand wrap around his, feel my hardness under his hand.

“BDSM isn’t all about pain, Jan,” Gray said quietly. “It’s about letting go and experiencing feelings you haven’t yet allowed yourself to discover.”

I controlled my breathing. I don’t know what magic Gray worked, but I was a few strokes short of coming, loving his hand stroking my cock, mine held over his, fisting his hair as we played.

“Feel Jess, Jan.”

Jess closed the distance, and I sank down with a groan. Gray followed, his hand now cupping my balls and base of cock.

Jess had stopped in front of me, and I reached for her, pulling her close, the feel of silk under my fingers as I trace round to her ass, my cheek nuzzling in close to her stomach. Hands ran through my hair, and her sigh was so soft.

“Being a Dom is as much about your own pleasure as it is someone else’s, Jan. You’ve found one comfort zone with Jess, with her expressions of femininity.”

Turning Jess around with a gentle tug, I guided Jess down to her fours and watched the play of silk on the curve of her hips as she took position.

“You need to respect her need to find hers,” said Gray.

A frown, I asked Jess what she liked. Resting her head to the floor, hair fanning out around her, Jess brought her hands behind her back.

“And there you have it,” Gray whispered.

Handcuffs were offered from Gray, and I didn’t even question where he’d taken them from. I’d never put a pair on before, only for my sister when we were kids playing cops and robbers, but I don’t think that really counted. It was embarrassing in many ways; it showed how tame my sex life had been with Rob. He’d never shown an interest with this kind of stuff, not with me, or maybe I’d just never pushed it. Gray seemed to understand my reluctance, and as I took them off him, feeling the metal warm under my fingers (had they been close to his body? That shouldn’t have jolted my cock the way it did), he whispered instructions. How to hold Jess’s hand with my free one, how to slip it round and lock it in place with the other, all to repeat with the other. Jess would shift her hips, more a need to ease the ache between her thighs, but she’d catch my dick, or Gray would purposefully flatten as much of me against her silk-covered ass to make sure she rubbed up against me.

“Good,” breathed Gray against my ear. Cool air hit the heat in my tip, and I looked down to see Gray rubbing his thumb over it. Fuck. Jack was right. Gray made this sexy. In one hand he held a condom he’d kept scissored between two fingers, and I watched completely fascinated, and lost to the feel of his hands on slick latex, as he suited me up.

Jess pushed back, stretching silk over her rump with the strong pull of leg muscles. Almost as though she’d known Gray had prepped me, and she wanted to feel me against her. Gray obliged, rubbing my cock again on the silk material keeping her ass safe.

My hands shook as I reached to Jess and started inching her dress over her hips. It was pulled tight, and as I gave it a last hitch up with it caught under my thumbs, the tanned curve of Jess’s ass slid free.

I let out a slow breath as Gray, hand gently cupping the base of my cock, angled it against the crease of Jess’s cheeks. My hips came into natural play, and I rooted, once, twice, loving the feel of my tip push and slip against Jess’s opening. Breaths a little faster. Jess was slimmer than Jack, muscles defined, but not given the harsh and worked-out edge to Jack’s. Jack was OCD extreme even to his body. All lines and angles perfected so that extra fat couldn’t soften and distort; leave him with internal chaos as he played. And Jess—

With a grunt, I jerked back, knocking into Gray a touch, at the same time pulling my condom off, then standing.

“Sorry.” I stepped away, hands running through my hair, judging the distance between Gray, Jess, and the door. “I’m sorry, Jess. You’re beautiful, damn beautiful, and a gorgeous person, but... but.” She was looking at me and the gentle understanding in her smile made all of this even worse.

“I’m not Jack, honey?”

I groaned and made it back up the stairs. I thought of leaving, then thought of drinking, then remembered where drinking had gotten me last time, so instead opted for slumping in Gray’s chair behind his desk.

Gray pushed through the door a few minutes later. Jess didn’t. Maybe she’d left through another door, but Gray came around and rested against his desk close to me. Arms folded, feet crossed, he raised a brow at me.

“Don’t, Gray,” I said, rubbing at my eyes. “She’s—she’s not Jack.”

“Neither am I.”

I looked up at him.

“Yet you had no problems with me touching you.”

I was up and pacing the desk in front. “That’s... that’s different.”

“How?” said Gray. “I’m not Jack.”

“No. You’re,” I clamped my lips shut and looked at him. Just what the hell
was
he? He wasn’t Jack, no. He—he was everything dark and sexy about life that turned even Doms to subs when he walked by, but more than that, he was the only artist I knew who could paint a picture around him and keep it alive well after I’d walked away. Hell, my dick was still in that other room fucking Jess if not in body, then in mind so long as he was behind touching me. “You’re... you.”

Gray came around the desk too, and I heard him pouring a drink. A moment later he came over and offered one to me. I shifted uncomfortably against the pull of trouser on my groin hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“No, thanks,” I said stiffly.

“I don’t doubt your ability to stay in control, Jan. I have a feeling you don’t either.” Again he offered the drink, and I took it. We drank at the same time, Gray just a sip, me half the glass and nearly choking by the time I’d finished.

“Fidelity is good on you,” he added quietly, and I pulled the drink away from my lips slightly. Had that been a test on his part? “But,” he added, “that’s not going to teach you how to take Jack to levels I know his body and mind need in order to cope.”

He sighed. “Jess will be needed tomorrow,” he said after taking another sip of his drink.

“Tomorrow?” I frowned. “I....”

“Your ex’s funeral?”

I nodded, and the gentle rub of hand into my shoulder surprised me a bit. “When you are ready,” said Gray. He watched me for a moment, then gave a slight smile. “MI5,” he said eventually, and for a moment it didn’t click what he was talking about.

“My department is counter-terrorism.”

Crap. It was one thing suspecting, a hell of a difference knowing. “And that makes you what?”

“As in my position?”

“Yes.”

“No,” said Gray, and I could see he’d reached a cut-off point with just what he was prepared to disclose. No problem there, not yet, anyway. What he
had
disclosed made me want to take a few careful steps back.

“You know I love Jack, right?” I said that very quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to arrange a little disappearance or anything.”

Gray chuckled softly. “I don’t
arrange
anything, Jan. That would mean going to the Director General. And unlike Jack, I’m not OCD about making sure all the right paperwork slots in all the right holes.”

Ah, but that put him below the Director General, yet high enough to make people disappear, no questions asked. And he’d let that Director General comment deliberately slip because—Shit. So my own inquisitiveness had just bit me in the ass there, warning made clear enough, me ending up in some unmarked grave now only one of many creative options. What was it Jack said? Just fucking peachy?

“Let me,” I waited for Jan to turn away from the mirror, then finished doing the tie he’d been staring down at for the past five minutes. He’d chosen a lovely dark grey Gucci suit and it tailored his toned body well. But it was still a suit, still a meeting with Rob where he was standing pretty and waiting on a call that would let him know it was time.

“You okay?” I asked quietly. Jan looked up from watching my hands. His face was a little pale, dark rings under his eyes making it look like he’d not caught much sleep last night. I’d slept with him in his bed, the first time in his bedroom since I’d stood in there and hit him. Both of us had our ghosts to sleep with last night, but the warmth of our bodies as we lay there had kept them at bay. Or I thought they had. I’d dropped off eventually; Jan must have stayed awake.

I ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he’d done the same thing a few moments ago, hand through hair, not liking what he saw in the mirror, and covering up his eyes to block himself out.

Jan rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly, “for being here with me today.”

A frown, I shifted my head up, taking his with me, and kissed gently at his lips. “I’m not just here for today, Jan,” I said quietly, “always.”

He lifted a hand up to my neck and gripped tightly. “I know.” His dampness brushed my cheek as he pulled me into a hold. “Sometimes I just need to hear it, okay?”

“Come on,” I said quietly, “we need to get moving,” He nodded against my shoulder and pulled away.

The drive up to the crematorium was uncharacteristically bright, the sun playing shadows through the trees, onto the road, and across Jan’s face as if to try and chase away the blankness going on with his eyes, and inject some of his usual colour and life back into him. We hadn’t followed the funeral cortege, simply opting to wait and go direct to the crematorium. Most of the spaces had been filled on the car park, and people stood huddled in little groups, their talking not matching the vitality of the day. If these were Rob’s friends and family, he had been pretty popular.

I reversed in close to the gates, letting the engine tick over as Jan sat looking at the gathering ahead. Two funeral cars were sleeping outside, and I reached over and let my hand rest on Jan’s thigh. It was easier for me to keep my eye on the lead funeral car, the second had a small casket with huge pink roses and Disney Princess pictures decorating the inside, and a part of me didn’t want to acknowledge a child rested there. The casket was small, just a small measure of the life that had been lived.

Over by the main doors, a woman, arms wrapped around a seven-year-old boy who had the same blank stare as Jan, was crowded by a number of people. And for all of the company around them, they were still detached from the crowd, whatever words being whispered, hugs being given, not grounding them enough in reality. They probably wouldn’t come back down for a few years yet.

I’d never lost anyone close, and most times found it hard to sympathize with anyone who had. I felt it a little more today, though. Looking at Jan, maybe a lot more.

“I can’t do this, Jack.” Jan had murmured that so quietly I barely heard him. “Can we go for a drink instead?”

“Jan, It’ll be okay, you know.”

He shook his head. “Look at them, Jack.” He was back with the people outside. “I spent ten years like this, sitting on the outside, watching. Lisa told me the other day that she knew all along that Rob had been seeing me, but for all of that time, she never acknowledged me, not even in anger.”