Worth Keeping (8 page)

Nick’s mouth moulded under his as he sighed softly, his lips parting, allowing Owen access. His tongue slid along Owen’s, warm and slick, probing his mouth with an octopus-like tentacle that made Owen harder than he could ever remember being. His cock jerked like a marionette being yanked on a string as it reached out eagerly wanting to embrace the other man.

Owen’s own senses were filled with Nick’s scent of warmth and spice, the smell of soap from a recent shower as he seized Nick’s long damp hair, wrapping his fingers in it, pulling the man’s face closer against his own. His own breath rasped in his throat, and Nick moaned softly, kissing Owen back as Nick’s hands pulled his head closer.

Despite having a headache of Grand Canyon proportions, Owen wanted more. He let go of Nick, gripping him around the waist and pulling him down over him.

But this time Nick did struggle. He fell over Owen awkwardly and he gasped at the sensation of a rock hard cock meeting his own. Then Nick placed his hands either side of Owen’s body and catapulted himself back onto his feet like a human boomerang.

His face was darkened by both anger and passion, his chest heaving with every breath he took. Despite his slightly blurry vision, Owen could see the hard ridge of Nick’s erection lying against his thigh. Nick stood, panting, watching Owen with what he could only describe as both intense desire and an element of pure fear.

“Don’t,” Nick whispered, his voice husky. “Please don’t.”

Owen reached up a hand to take his trembling hand. “Nick, what the hell? We want each other, what’s the big deal?”

Nick shook his head vehemently, his eyes haunted, snatching his hand away. “That’s not just it. It’s gone too far already. I can’t get involved, Owen. Not with you.”

And with those cryptic words, Nick swirled around like dark mist and disappeared. Owen lay on the bed, his head spinning and his eyes still unfocused.

What the hell did Nick mean, not with him? Did Owen have the fucking plague or something? And the man’s hair had been wet. He’d obviously showered before coming home, probably with bloody Daniel. That meant bodily fluids, sweat…sex.

Owen scowled.

Fuck, he had no idea what to do with this man. He was a bloody pain in the arse. And not in the way Owen wanted him to be. Owen stood up, immediately feeling a head rush that nearly landed him back down again. He steadied himself against the wall, smiling in triumph when the dizziness passed. He left his bedroom to find Nick. Nick was in his bedroom, removing the watch he’d been wearing. He laid it down on his side table, turning as Owen appeared in his room. Socks was curled up on Nick’s bed, fast asleep.

Nick’s face darkened. “Christ, you’re like a bloody fly that won’t die,” he hissed. “When are you going to get the message that I want to be left alone? That I’m not interested in a relationship of any sort with you?” His tone was cruel but Owen ignored it. He regarded Nick steadily, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded.

Nick swallowed. His hands were trembling. “Do you mind? I want to get into bed and I don’t need an audience, thank you very much.”

“What are you so scared of?” Owen asked quietly. Despite his headache, he was sobered up. The sight of Nick and his vulnerability had awakened a protective streak in him that seemed to have dispelled the alcohol in his system. “I’m not asking you to marry me and bear my children, Nick. I know you’re attracted to me. I just want to get to know you better.”

Nick laughed harshly, his features twisting into something ugly. “Believe me, that is one thing you
don’t
want to do.” His voice was bitter. “There’s nothing much worthwhile knowing about me, Owen. So give it up.” He moved over to his bedroom door, laying a hand on the doorknob. “Now if you don’t mind, I need some sleep. It’s been a busy evening.”

Owen nodded. “I’m sure it has. I’m glad you had fun with Daniel.”

Nick ignored that barbed comment, motioning to the hallway. “Shut the door on your way out. I spoke to Daniel about you. He’s happy to take you on in his business if you want the job. He even has a friend in town who’s looking for a roommate. I told Daniel you’d go see him tomorrow morning about the job and he’ll introduce you to his friend. Then you’ll be able to leave and get your own place. We just have to put up with each other in the meantime I suppose.”

Owen’s pulse quickened. He liked the idea of having a job but he wasn’t looking forward to leaving Nick. But at least he still had somewhere to stay until that happened. A lot could happen in that time. “I see,” he said quietly, feeling a sense of loss flood his body. “Then I guess that’ll make you happy then, me not being here.”

He didn’t miss the fleeting look of pain in Nick’s eyes at his statement.

The man is a damn mystery. Does he want me gone or not?

“Fine. I can see it’s time I moved on. Good night, Nick. Leave me Daniel’s address on the kitchen table and I’ll visit him tomorrow. Thanks for getting me a job. I appreciate it.” He turned and went to his room, going inside and shutting the door. He leaned against it, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to centre himself. Then he undressed down to his black briefs and climbed into bed, lying awake for a while, listening to the sound of the sea outside and the cries of the seagulls.

Owen was jolted awake once again in the early hours of the morning by a loud cry coming from the other bedroom. The sound was heartrending, a scream of such pain and fear that his heart beat faster and his throat dried up.

He shot out of bed, opened his door and raced down the hallway to Nick’s room. The chances were Nick had locked his door again but he’d try and talk to him at least. He stopped outside the bedroom and without hope, he tried the door. It opened. Uneasily, he moved into Nick’s room to see him thrashing around in his bed, the covers flung off his writhing body. He wore nothing more than a pair of loose jogging bottoms and his chest was matted with sweat. The capuchin was sitting on the floor, looking up wide eyed as Owen came in. Owen moved swiftly over to Nick, sitting down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Nick, wake up, buddy. You’re having another nightmare. Come on, wake up.”

Nick’s hand reached up to Owen, gripping his bicep so tightly Owen flinched. Nick’s eyes opened, full of panic and pain. Owen’s heart broke at the sight of the other man in such obvious distress.

“Stop hitting me,” Nick said brokenly as he sobbed, wetness leaking from his eyes and running down his cheeks. “For God’s sake, leave me alone. You’re hurting me. Just please stop it.” His voice trailed off into a shuddering sigh and Owen reached out, gathering Nick into his arms. Nick’s hand clasped his wrist, holding it.

Owen’s eyes filled with tears. “Shush. You’re okay, Nick. No one’s hurting you. Just settle down. I’m here, I’ll keep you safe. No one’s going to hurt you again, I promise.” His protective instinct to shield this man from his pain was so strong it took his breath away. And he meant every word he said. He’d fight anyone who threatened him. Nick’s breath ghosted on his bare chest. Owen held Nick until his body stopped shaking and he thought he’d gone to sleep. He was about to gently lower him down to the bed and cover him with the blanket when Nick’s hand tightened on his wrist. Nick’s lips moved against the bare skin of his chest.

“Stay here with me, please,” Nick whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

Owen wasn’t sure if he was speaking about just tonight or remaining at the cottage. He kissed the top of Nick’s head tenderly. “Lie down. I’ll stay with you. I promise to behave myself too. Just go back to sleep.”

Nick sighed as he lay back on his side of the bed. Owen picked up the covers, crawling in beside him, pulling Nick’s back to his front.

Nick shook his head. “Not behind me, Owen,” he whispered. “Turn around.”

Owen turned to face the other way, dread nipping at his chest at Nick’s words.

What the hell had happened to Nick to be scared of someone behind him?

He could guess but his very thoughts made him feel sick. Nick turned and wrapped his arms around Owen’s waist as he pressed himself against Owen’s back. His breath tickled Owen’s skin. Owen shifted slightly, trying to ignore the growing turmoil in his groin. He’d promised to behave himself and this man needed comfort, not sex. “Go back to sleep, Nick,” he murmured. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay,” was the sleepy reply.

Socks chirped quietly in apparent agreement from his position on the bottom of the bed. Owen lay awake until he heard Nick’s breathing even out and deepen. Only then did he fall asleep.

Chapter 6

Nick awoke to a small monkey lying curled in the crook of his armpit and a softly snoring man only inches away from his face. He lay still on his back for a few minutes as he assessed the fact that once again he wasn’t alone, and then he sighed heavily. The sigh turned into a yawn. He gently lifted the sleeping capuchin, placing him at the bottom of the bed. Nick watched Owen’s face as the man slept. Owen slept with his mouth slightly open, his long eyelashes lying against pale, freckled skin. A lock of dark hair covered one eye and Nick itched to brush it back. He resisted the gesture. He remembered last night, asking Owen to stay with him, and panic threatened. He honestly hadn’t meant to get all needy. But once again the dream of Roger thrusting in and out of him, fiercely and with violence and then slicing him open like a piece of meat off a joint had invaded his thoughts and driven him wild. The touch and comfort of the man next to him last night had been welcome despite all Nick’s efforts to push him away.

Nick didn’t really want Owen to move out. He enjoyed having someone around him, the other man’s company, his snarky sense of humour, his warmth and most of all his ability to make him feel whole again. And Nick had a constant erection when the man was around. Although God knows, with his black moods he sometimes treated Owen like shit. But Nick felt a kinship to his seaborne catch that was deeper than he wanted.

His past was one that most men couldn’t come to grips with, and he didn’t really expect them to. His ex, Brad, had done so only because, in the end, Brad had seen a weakness, a vulnerability in Nick that let him play out his bully fantasies. Nick had finally realised it when he lay beaten and broken in hospital.

Owen snuffled, opening his eyes, and once again Nick lost his breath at their colour. They cleared slowly then Owen yawned, a large, jaw-splitting motion that showed his tonsils. He stretched long, slender, creamy arms with dark hair in the creases of his armpits. He pulled the cover from his chest down to his waist then grinned at Nick.

“Good morning. This is becoming a habit isn’t it?”

“Twice is hardly a habit,” Nick muttered dryly. “But good morning.” He sat up, pulling the covers round his waist as they bunched up. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Owen shrugged as he sat up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. He sat there as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair trying to straighten it out. “No problem. I was surprised that your bedroom door was open. You must have forgotten to lock it last night.”

Nick had been too preoccupied with fighting off the feelings Owen had created in him when he’d pulled him on top of him. “I guess I did forget.”

Owen nodded absently. “Lucky you did or you wouldn’t have had me to cuddle you last night.”

He stretched again. Nick studied his back and the pale skin spattered with small brown freckles. He wanted to run his tongue down the spine in front of him, see Owen shiver as he nibbled his skin between his teeth. His morning erection grew harder. He bunched the sheets densely around his groin as Owen stood up.

Christ, the man has a fine arse
, Nick thought fleetingly. The soft, rounded swell of Owen’s buttocks showed beneath the tight briefs, with a tantalising crease of firm flesh above. To Nick, it was an invitation to run his mouth over the pale skin, see what the man tasted like, inside and out. Owen cleared his throat, hitching up his underwear. He turned to Nick with a smile.

“Finished ogling?” he remarked cheerfully and Nick flushed as he realised Owen had seen him looking in the reflection of the cracked mirror on his old, battered dressing table. Nick scowled as Owen grinned. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. I’m glad I could bring some cheer to your life.” His tone was teasing but his eyes said something else entirely. They were compassionate, searching.

Nick swallowed. “About the whole cuddling thing. Thanks for staying with me last night.”

Owen observed him then sat down back on the bed. He regarded Nick thoughtfully. “You might like to tell me what happened to you at some stage,” he said softly. “I’m a good listener. I know somebody fucked you up badly. That’s a given. And I’d really like it if you shared it with me. Because once I leave here there’s going to be no one to rush in here and cuddle you, Nick.”

Nick’s stomach lurched at the reminder that Owen was going. “It’s not something I can talk about to just anyone,” he muttered. He saw the look of hurt flash across Owen’s face then it was gone.

“I didn’t think I
was
just anyone,” Owen said quietly. “But you know where I am if you ever want to tell me about it.” He stood up again. “I’m going to shower then go down to see your friend Daniel.”

He hurried out of the room, leaving Nick staring after him, his throat dry, his sense of loss keen and the man hadn’t even left yet. Socks stared, opening a bleary eye to peer at Nick. He yawned, showing a glimpse of tiny white teeth, then leapt off the bed in a flurry of monkey limbs and scarpered out the room. Nick was alone in his bedroom, disgruntled and unsure, and he didn’t like the feeling one little bit.

Finally, after a few minutes of punishing self-debate, Nick made a decision. His heart hammered in his chest at what he was about to do and the ramifications. He swore under his breath as he got out of bed, pulling up his sweatpants like a security blanket. He barrelled through to the bathroom and opened the door. Billows of steam assaulted his face, making him cough as he breathed it in.

“Um, Owen?” The bathroom was spacious, a simple but modern design with a bath, the wet room capable of fitting two big men, a toilet and a basin. It was decorated in shades of cream and blue. Nick saw the naked form of his lodger in the shower, all fair skin and long, slim, taut muscled legs with water cascading over his body. The smell of coconut shampoo swirled into Nick’s nostrils together with the tantalising tang of maleness.