Unobtainable (17 page)

“No,” I answered quickly, almost too quickly seeing both of their heads dart in my direction. “We’re good.”

Sam gave me a strange smile and walked away, snapping his towel at one of the waitresses as he past her. He was such an open flirt, everyone knew what a ladies man he was, especially his soon-to-be ex-wife Erika. I think he was working on adding to his collection, talk was, he was serious with one of his waitresses. But that’s another story.

“I feel terrible, really fucking bad about the other morning. I treated you like shit, there’s no excuse,” he admitted, and I almost wanted to give in right there and then and tell him it was okay, but I wanted more from Harley.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why won’t you just tell me about your dreams, they’re dreams, it’s not as if they’re real and can hurt you.”

Harley chewed at the flesh of his inner cheek, spinning his glass in his hands. His brow creased as if he were in pain. He looked up at me, deep into me.

“They are real,” he muttered, I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Dream’s aren’t real, Harley,” I told him, watching as his eyes darkened.

“What I see each night are nightmares, night-terrors. They are so close to reality it’s as if I’m reliving them, they haunt me over and over, year after fucking year…reality is the worst fucking nightmare, my friend.”

Sam startled us both as he set our drinks on our coasters, looking back and forth between us. “You sure you don’t want some wings or something to go with your beers?”

“We’re good, maybe later,” Harley said, slurping a mouthful of foam from his glass.

“You’re not going to leave it at that are you?”

He shook his head, swirling his thumb over the layer of frost on the side of his glass. “I was in a relationship for three years, his name was Bruno. We lived together for about a year,” he took a sip from his drink before going on.

I chose to listen and keep my mouth shut as long as he was willing to share. I feared one word would set him off and send him back into his carefully hidden sanctuary he’d worked so hard to erect.

“Anyway, the relationship was all good until I moved in and he changed. He became…” he stopped.

“Became?” I asked, encouraging him to continue.

“Abusive,” he said, his face riddled with shame. “He did things to me, these are the things that haunt me, keep me awake and won’t allow me a decent night of sleep.”

Harley raised his hand before I had a chance to open my mouth and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself before going on.

“I’ve never told another living soul about what he did to me,” his eyes met mine. “You have to promise me this conversation stays between us, no one else can ever know.”

I nodded my head wildly, I was intrigued. The curiosity was eating at me because he wasn’t talking fast enough. I would keep his secret, after all he was keeping mine.

“Bruno was into the whole BDSM thing, not that I knew how into it he was until I moved in. We were both into Kinbaku, we studied it with a master he knew. I learned the craft well, I’m very good.”

I tipped my head, I was lost. “What is that?” I asked.

“A form of sexual restraint with ropes,” he explained. “I gave you a taste of it the other night.”

“Oh yeah, I remember, I just didn’t know the proper name, go on.”

“Bruno wasn’t very good at it, he was very impatient and often left marks that lasted for days,” he said, looking around, making sure no one could overhear. “Fuck, I can’t do this, it’s too embarrassing.”

“There’s no way after talking me into meeting you that I’m letting you get away without telling me what the fuck has you so rattled. Embarrassment be damned, it’s only me get on with it,” I griped, with a hearty scowl.

“You want to know everything? Fine I’ll tell you.” His eyes darkened as he finished his drink and slammed the glass on the table. “Bruno would tie me up and brutally fuck me, I mean brutally, whether I wanted it or not…and then just for laughs he’d leave me tied up and go out for hours. A few times he left me that way over night. I could barely walk for days, I’d have to call into work sick.”

I was sure by the look on my face that Harley knew I was knocked for six. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight while I cradled and rocked him. But all I could do was convey my sadness with my eyes.

“Like a fucking idiot I let myself believe he loved me. Isn’t it strange the things you’ll accept as true in the name of love? I was living a lie and he was getting off on it.” Harley shook his head staring up at the ceiling. “I vowed each time that it would be the last, that come morning I’d pack my things and leave him and each morning came with more lies to keep me there. What a fucking pussy I was!”

Harley raised his arm until he managed to get Sam’s attention and waved a finger between our glasses. We sat silent until Sam brought two more drafts and set them down.

Every word Harley had said was stirring in my head. When thinking of abuse, the first thing one thought of was a woman being raped by a man, beaten and assaulted physically at the hand of some vile creature. Harley had in actuality been raped and tortured. It was a sickening reality most men would never admit to, he was a brave man sharing this with me.

“Sam, can I bother you for two shot of Chivas?” I asked, as he set our beers on the table. “We won’t be driving, don’t worry I’ll make sure we get home safe.”

“Coming right up,” he gleefully smiled. “Is it a Chivas night, gentlemen?”

“Nope, two will be plenty thanks,” I assured him, and waited until he was out of ear shot. “I’m not trying to insinuate anything but I can’t help asking.”

“What?” Harley asked, skeptically.

“Could that be the reason why you like it rough?” I asked, apprehensively. “I mean, like some kind of revenge sex or something?”

A hint of a smile creased the corner of Harley’s mouth for a brief second. “No, I’ve always enjoyed rough sex. Its humiliation and fear I don’t enjoy…Dyson, have you ever been tied up naked and left alone in the dark? It’s fucked. Unless you experience it first hand, you could never imagine it.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

Harley cut me off mid-sentence holding up one finger, “I’m going to tell you this because I don’t want you thinking I’m some fucking spineless jellyfish that let the bastard get away with what he did and I most definitely don’t want your pity…one night Bruno screwed me so savagely I was black and blue, he left me tied up until his friend came over. Bruno sat on the sofa and watched his buddy fuck me while I screamed and begged him to stop. No one should experience that kind of pain, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, it was excruciating.” Harley combed his fingers through his hair. “I just thank God he used a condom, God only knows what the results could have been.” He struggled with himself as he fought to go on. “Afterwards, I let on like I was over it, that I liked it so that Bruno would untie me…Once he did, I beat the lord living fuck out of him, I don’t know where the strength came from…and while he lay bleeding all over the kitchen tiles, I packed what I could into a duffle bag and took off. I never saw him again.”

We just sat there staring at each other, there were no words.

“Not a good idea pouring strong liquor into empty stomachs,” Sam said, before he left us each a shot and a basket of pretzels.

“Maybe that’s why you still have nightmares,” I said, after chewing on a few pretzels and thinking.

“Why’s that?” Harley asked, tapping the base of his shot glass to the lip of mine. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” I said, downing my shot, feeling it burn its way to my gut. “You’ve never dealt with it, there was no real closure.”

“It took a good two weeks for my knuckles to heal. I think that was closure enough. I still have scars, see?”

Harley showed off a fat pink one inch long squiggly scar on the back of his hand near his third knuckle, and a long thin silver permanent gouge trailing along the outside of his other hand. They weren’t too impressive but he seemed proud in a primal chest thumping kind of way, to show them off.

“That’s not closure,” I announced, noting he was not very pleased with my dismissal. “They’re reminders of a violent past you escaped from and it will continue to haunt you until you deal with what that asshole did to you. Maybe you should see a therapist or something.”

“Thank you Doctor Phil, that’s precisely the reason why I never told anyone. I don’t need a shrink to tell me I’m fucked up. I already know I am,” Harley attempted to laugh it off.

“I’m certainly not laughing, I don’t find any humor regarding rape, this is serious. You’ll never get over it unless you deal with it.”

“I’ll take your advice into consideration, I need another shot,” he flagged over Sam and ordered two more shots of Chivas. “I feel like an order of onion rings, care to share?”

“Sure,” I said, knowing the discussion was drawing to a conclusion. “Make it a large order Sam, it will probably be the closest thing to dinner we’ll have tonight.”

There were still things I wanted to ask, especially on the subject of his bedroom but he had shared so much already, I was nervous to broach the subject. I rubbed my finger around the rim of my glass, making it sing. I looked up from my glass to find Harley was staring at me absorbedly, making me feel strangely circumspect. Those eyes of his, like blue pools of ocean water were hypnotizing me with his stare. He was very intense, devouring me with his eyes as his tongue peeked from between his lips adding a glistening sheen of moisture to his already perfect mouth.

The twitch in my pants made me sit up a bit taller. I swear he had some kind of telepathic connection with my pecker. Harley could rouse it even when he wasn’t sitting right there. The man had a supernatural power. He had an appetizingly captivating energy that lit me on fire. I was about to burst into flames when his voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“What are you thinking? You’re a million miles away.”

Harley’s eyes, his mouth, those beautiful full lips were dragging me back in, I had to resist. But resistance was futile with this man.

“I’m thinking one more shot and I’ll be done for,” I said, letting out a long sigh.

“Certainly can’t hold your liquor, can you?” he laughed.

So badly I wanted to tell him he was making me horny as hell, I wasn’t even close to drunk from the liquor. I was tipsy from the man sitting across the table from me. Adding another shot was only going to give me the alcohol induced bravery I needed to jump his bones.

“Shut the fuck up, I’ll let you know what I can handle and what I can’t,” I barked with pent up sexual frustration and pure liquor induced bravery.

“Would you like me to tell you what I want to handle?” he grinned, a grin so wicked it sent shivers racing along my spine.

“Handle this,” I latched onto the substantial boner I was sporting, glad to be seated, using the table as a shield from what could turn out to be an embarrassing moment. Harley laughed.

I was relieved to see Sam coming with our drinks and food.

“Gentlemen?” he said, placing a huge basket of onion rings in the center of the table as well as two shots and two tall glasses of draft.

“We didn’t order more beer,” Harley told him.

Sam shrugged. “Some guy at the end of the bar paid for those.”

“Who?” I asked, as we all turned in the same direction.

“Never seen him before, don’t see him now,” Sam scanned the crowd and pointed. “There, the guy in the black coat going out the door, he’s the one.”

“I couldn’t see his face.”

“He didn’t say why or give you a name?” Harley asked. “Who the fuck would buy us drinks and run off like that? Fucking weird.”

Things were definitely strange, men didn’t normally buy men drinks unless they were joining them, trying to pick them up or knew each other, and they certainly didn’t disappear into the night like a dark phantom on the run. It was plain creepy.

Since Sam had commandeered our car keys, volunteering to call us a cab, we both thanked him and decided to walk the short distance to Harley’s apartment. It was an awkward walk, not only because we were staggering, it was also a very silent one. I was wondering what he was thinking and was sure he was waiting for me to blurt out something stupid.

To my relief, standing outside propped against the double garage door, one leg cocked against it and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, was my pal Tag.

“Been waiting long?” I asked, watching as Tag took a long drag from his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter.

“Long enough to finish that,” He blew out a swirling blue plume of smoke.

Harley’s eyes followed Tags to the glowing hot cigarette butt.

“Disgusting habit!” I grunted. “Who wants to kiss an ashtray?”

“You,” they said simultaneously, laughing at the pissy glare I was imparting on both their smart-ass faces.

Harley stopped laughing, placing his hands on his hips and tapping the toe of his shoe on the stone walkway until he had the attention of us both.

“You’ve kissed my Dyson?” he asked.

My eyes widened, Harley had the audacity to call me his.

“Uh, he was mine first and yeah,” Tag placed his index finger on his lower lip. “These lips taught the boy how to kiss properly, the poor fucker didn’t have a clue before I took him under my wing…lips,” he laughed.