Raw (Raw Instinct Book 1)

by Lee Quail

  “Relax, babe,” Edward said.

  Raw relaxed as Edward pushed his helmet through and it slid easily in, like a plug fitting a socket in the wall.

  Raw released a loud gasp and rolled his eyes back. “Oh Jesus fuck, that’s so beautiful,” he whispered.

  Raw did something he never thought possible. He brought his hands over Edward’s buttocks and pushed him from behind. Edward’s cock slid in and Raw gasped with pleasure as it hit his prostate.

  “Oh Jesus! Oh Jesus, Fuck me, please.” Raw’s love blurred the imperfections between them as he demanded more from Edward.

  Edward withdrew, then pushed in. Slowly at first, then a little faster. Edward stretched his own legs back and lifted Raw’s ass off the bed. In one swift move, he grabbed a pillow, placed it under Raw’s ass, and didn’t stop pumping. Such domination turned Raw on. He opened his eyes and gazed at Edward who came down on his lips as they fucked and kissed deeply, both moving with each sensation. With each rub of Edward’s cock against Raw’s prostate, Raw begged him to keep fucking him. Raw’s tears rolled down the side of his face as their bonding cemented their love.

  He didn’t need to hide in the safety of his unopened self any longer for he had finally opened to Edward in the most intimate way possible. No more wild feelings of emotional withdrawal. No more arguments over trivialities. Raw had finally found himself after having lost self over many years. He no longer felt confused, no longer suffered uncertainty and anxiety.

  He shared this Ubuntu with this man, this perfect man that God allowed him to have and keep, and nothing, not even death, could tear it asunder.

  They changed positions several times. He sat on Edward’s cock with his back to him. He sat facing him and at one stage Edward moved him off the bed into a standing position. Eventually, Raw lay on his side while Edward penetrated him. Edward stretched his neck to meet Raw’s lips while Raw breathed and moaned into his mouth and gazed into his perfect blue eyes with respect and yearning. Edward flipped his head back as pleasure boiled up and engulfed him. “I’m coming. I have to cum, babe. I’m there. Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

  Raw contracted his anus the moment Edward exploded and felt jets of cum deep inside. “Man, that’s the most amazing feeling,” Raw said, his voice dreamy, his face a masterpiece of delight as he too released all over the sheet. Raw’s orgasm came, not from his cock, but from all of him.

  Their limerence for each other had finally come full circle and found it’s fulfilment in this last act of tenderness. Both Edward and Raw felt the need to merge their deepest selves and to yield completely and vulnerably to each other. A striving for equality beyond equality, a yearning for security where otherwise it faltered.

  Peace.

  Both men, exhausted in the afterglow, lay silently, their eyes closed, Edward still deep inside. He began to pull out when Raw stopped him.

  “Stay inside me. I want you inside me forever.”

  They remained in each other’s arms for endless hours, touching, holding, nibbling, kissing and fondling. All their inhibitions lost to the wolf of the wind.

  15

  The atmosphere at the gym could best be described as complete elation. An excitement staff and members had not felt for years as the staff went around placing notices of the upcoming fights onto the walls of the gym. Members took to the streets to place placards on poles and trees.

  Members immediately bought tickets for the events. Edward contacted his friends in the IT business and by mid-morning, the gym had a website. Anita called Computicket and organized for them to sell tickets through their online portal. Curisco called several meetings to brainstorm ideas. As the days rolled away, Curisco found the time to train his two boxers. They complemented the other, but he never used them to spar. That would, in his view, be a waste of energy, although he had planned a special event for them on the side.

  Raw and Edward had an idea that they would be fighting each other, Curisco had suggested it, but hadn’t turned concrete. Curisco had to plan this one carefully because although his son and Edward were lovers, they still worked for him and were bound to him contractually.

  After the first week of high-end training, Curisco received a call from the Scottish manager, Johnson. Johnson had a problem beyond his control and he wanted to speak face to face.

  Johnson arrived early Friday morning of the first week and Curisco invited him to sit on the leather couch in his office.

  “You sounded as if the world had ended, Johnson. It can’t be that bad.”

  “Bad enough to get an immediate appointment with you. There’s a rumour. People are saying your son and that other boxer, they’re – I don’t know how to put this, so I’ll be straight up. They’re shaggin’.”

  “Shaggin?”

  “Bufties. Queer.”

  “Queer? No, Johnson. They’re far from queer. I believe the word is Gay. Homosexual.”

  “That’s the rumour out there.”

  Curisco smiled. “Is this a problem?”

  “My man wants no fight with a queer.”

  “Gay. Say it. Gay.”

  “Gay.”

  “And is there a reason for his refusal to fight my son other than he’s gay.”

  “He feels he might get AIDS.”

  Curisco laughed so loud it reverberated off the walls of his office. He calmed down. “My son has been tested, so has his lover. They’re HIV negative. Do you want to see their certificates?”

  “If you will, I’d like that.”

  Curisco buzzed reception and told Anita to find Raw and Edward’s medical history. A few minutes later she passed them on to Curisco in his office.

  Johnson read the reports and closed the file. “I dinnae know if my lad will accept this.”

  “Your man seems to have a problem with gay people in general. He sounds like a mean bigot.”

  “That may be, but he’s made up his mind, unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless yer increase the purse. He’s prepared to fight Raw fer two hundred thousand.”

  “I’ll have to consult Raw, first. This gym also belongs to him.” Curisco leaned over and asked Anita to get Raw into the office.

  The two sat silently in a long stare off as they waited for Raw. When he arrived, Curisco told him to sit down.

  “Johnson, you tell him what you told me.”

  Johnson could have crawled under his seat. “There’s a rumour that you’re a buftie…”

  Curisco interrupted to define buftie.

  “…And my lad doesn’t want ta fight ye, says he’s afraid of getting AIDS. Now yer father has shown me yer medical history and I’m convinced that ye are HIV negative, still, my lad wants more money. If he loses he wants a hundred K. If he wins he wants 200K.”

  Raw sat dumbstruck. Raw leaned forward. “Are you serious?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “Let me tell you something, Mr. Johnson, about AIDS. People are having safe sex nowadays. I’m sure you’re aware of that. Secondly, AIDS is not the death sentence it once was two decades ago. Thirdly, you tell your man to go and fuck himself.”

  Raw stood up to leave the room when Curisco demanded he stay. “Let’s sort this out like adults.”

  Johnson said, “Simmer down, lad. I can tell you I would have said the same had it been me. Son, I don’t discriminate. There’s nawt wrong with queers. But, it’s my lad. You either give him what he wants or we walk away from this deal.”

  Raw called Curisco out of the office where they could talk in private.

  “Fuck them, dad. There is no way in hell I’m going to fight a bigot, not for any amount of money.”

  “Where do you suppose they got this information?” Curisco asked.

  “It can only be one person, Caine.”

  “You see, son, this is what happens when you make enemies. They bite you on the arse before Angie can knit a jersey.”

  “If I ever get hold of Caine I’m going to break his neck in a hundred dif
ferent places,” Raw said, throwing a punch in the air.

  “So you don’t want to fight this man?”

  “Hell no, dad. This boxer is deep in his straight shit that he can’t even see there’s toilet paper to wipe it clean. They’re a bunch of idiots who refuse to understand there is a lot more to life than heterosexuality. They’re extortionists. Drop them.”

  Curisco and Raw returned to the office and calmly, Curisco poured himself a glass of milk.

  “Tell me, Johnson. Did you enjoy my prize whiskey?”

  “I did, indeed. Look, I’m sorry this has happened. I don’t understand people sometimes. It still amazes me that in this day and age there can be so much discrimination in sport.”

  “Damn right!” Raw said, pouring himself a glass of milk now. “That’s the only sane thing you’ve said to us. Still, Mr. Johnson, you go and tell your lame, bigot of a boxer, we won’t be cajoled and extorted into this fight. I’m not going to waste one punch on him. The deal is off.”

  “I’ll pass on your message. Curisco, you wouldn’t by any chance have any more of that whiskey hidden away, would you?”

  Curisco exclaimed, “Get the fuck out of my office, Johnson.” He pointed at the door. “And don’t come back until you’ve got a real man to fight, yes?”

  Johnson skittled out of the office and ran to his car.

  Curisco laughed, and within moments Raw saw the humour in the fiasco and joined him.

  “In fact,” Curisco said. “I do have another bottle. Far away from nosy eyes.”

  “Don’t look at me, dad. I’m not the alcoholic.”

  Edward sneered when he heard what had happened. He would have done the same. But this meant they were short of a fight and this meant marketing and advertising would need revision.

  “What are we going to do?” Edward asked as he lifted weights upstairs.

  “I don’t know,” Raw said, spotting for him. “We’ll need to come up with a plan. You’d think that the money we’ve pumped into the gym this week is enough to save her. But, it can only last for so long. We’ll need to do something, and soon.”

  Anita came running up the stairs and headed towards them. “Mr. Curisco wants to see you guys.”

  They made their way to Curisco’s office and hoped he’d come up with a plan to replace the match.

  “The only solution I can think of,” he said, playing with his pinkie ring, “is to promote you two in a 12 rounder.”

  Raw winced. He had his doubts about such a fight. Firstly, he and Edward were lovers. By their bonding, they had made a silent promise never to hurt each other. Secondly, Raw had seen Edward in the boxing ring during sparring sessions, and by personal experience, he knew that Edward’s fists were mean sons of bitches. He had his health to consider. Curisco, nor the gym’s medical team, knew about his condition.

  “You’re not happy about this?” Curisco asked.

  “Dad, isn’t that asking too much of us? I mean we’re not only partners in business, but we love each other. We never included this in our bonding.”

  “I don’t know what else to do.”

  “There’s Breed. Maybe Edward can take on Breed.”

  “Me?” Edward asked, taken aback by Raw’s sudden suggestion.

  “He’s not a strong contender. He’s a great sparring partner but that’s all. You’ll easily break him.” Raw said.

  Curisco wagged his finger. “No, No. Not Pritchard. We have to use the stars in this gym. That’s you two.”

  Edward said, “I think we need some time to think about this, sir. It’s not something we planned.”

  Raw said, “Listen, guys, I’m okay with fighting Edward. It’s just a fight after all.”

  “You’re okay with this?” Edward asked.

  Raw shrugged. “Yes. I mean if it’s going to add to the coffers of the gym, I don’t see why not.”

  “I think we should discuss this,” Edward gazed into Raw’s eyes.

  “I don’t want problems,” Curisco said.

  “We’ll come back to you in the morning with a definitive answer, dad.”

  Curisco shrugged. “Think about it carefully and especially what it means for this gym.”

  Angie waited patiently in the parking area of Raw’s apartment block. Raw spotted the old Anglia immediately and wondered why the hell she bothered with driving at all. She could afford a chauffeur to drive her wherever she wanted, goodness sakes, she could afford her own personal Uber service.

  Angie packed her knitting needles away when he arrived and dashed from the car to intercept him as he walked towards her carrying the dinner ingredients he had bought.

  “You should have called me. I would have been earlier to meet you,” Raw said. “Hope you’re staying for dinner. Edward will be here in about 45 minutes.”

  “Oh, darling, I’d love to stay, but I’m sure I’d be an imposition. Here, let me help you with some of those packets.” She lifted two packets from his arms.

  “Great to see you again. I thought you might be angry with me for confronting you the other day.”

  “I’m beyond that stage when anger rules my world. Nothing can keep me from you or Edward, you should know that by now.”

  Inside the apartment, he donned a black and white pin-stripe apron and called out from the kitchen.

  “What are you making for dinner, darling?”

  “French onion soup because it’s winter and it’s the only soup I know how to make without fucking up, and chicken in a sweet orange sauce with French vegetables and roast potatoes. A simple, kind of hearty meal.”

  “Sounds delicious, darling,” she said, starting to knit.

  “Have you heard from Caine?” Raw asked, anticipating an answer.

  “Have I heard from Caine? Of course, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you and Edward about. Shall we wait for him to arrive? You know how I hate repeating myself.”

  “Rather wait. I’m sure whatever it is you need to tell us will be fruit-from-the-gods for the evening’s conversation.”

  “It certainly is,” she sang. “How’s your father?”

  “I’ve been with him all day, do we have to talk about dad?”

  “Well, he is your father, after all, you should never be tired of talking about your family. He told me you didn’t seem to like the idea of fighting Edward in a match.”

  Raw raised his brow. “Does he tell you everything?”

  “To a degree. Most things.”

  “I’m not overly excited about fighting Edward. One of the promoters cancelled his match and left us hanging. Curisco thought it might be a good idea for a replacement match.”

  “How does Edward feel about it?”

  “I don’t think he likes the idea. But he’s accommodating.”

  “Do you need my advice?”

  “I always need your advice.”

  She placed her knitting on the table and joined Raw in the kitchen.

  “It’s not a good idea,” she said. “It’s a terrible idea. You and Edward are in love with each other. It makes no sense to pit one against the other, even in an organized bout.”

  “I hope you told Curisco what you’re telling me.”

  “I did. He said that it should be considered as a business decision and not a personal one.”

  “I thought he’d react that way.”

  “By the way, did you give him the envelope?”

  Raw stopped chopping onions for the French onion soup. His blood ran cold and the knife dropped from his hands. “Oh, shit!”

  “Don’t tell me you forgot,” Angie said, grinning.

  He ran to the main bedroom and frantically rummaged through the clothes he had worn during the week and found the envelope in the black, leather jacket he’d worn during his visit.

  He rushed back to the kitchen. “Found it.”

  “Thank goodness for that. Now be sure to give it to him in the morning. It’s important that you do,” she said with a warning in her voice.

  Raw placed it on th
e table in the lounge and returned to the kitchen where he continued chopping onions. After six onions he wiped the tears from his eyes. Then he chopped another four before Angie placed her hand over his and stopped him.

  “You’ve chopped more than enough onions for the soup.”

  Raw stepped back knife in hand. “What?”

  “You’ve chopped up ten onions for a soup dish for three people. It’s more than enough, darling.”

  “Needs more.”

  “Are you okay, Raw?”

  Raw stared at the onions on the table. He had brought out 25 onions to chop and without so much as a thought, kept on chopping. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “Do I need to ask you again to get your headaches checked?”

  “What headaches? I don’t suffer from headaches.” It was clear, Raw was in denial. Something far worse had happened here, tonight.

  “Okay, that’s it. I’ll finish dinner.” Angie removed the knife from Raw’s hand and gently placed it on the table. She checked the water in a pot and gave it another 15 minutes to reach boiling point. In the meantime, she led Raw to the lounge and lowered him onto the couch. “You sit right here. You’ve had one of those nasty attacks again.”

  “I have to cut onions for French onion soup before Edward arrives.”

  Angie sat down beside him and drew his head against her chest.

  “My poor, poor darling.”

  “Relax darling. Breathe in…breathe out. That’s it, get oxygen into your brain.”

  After 10 minutes of sitting with him, she lifted his head and gently placed him in a lying position on the couch. In the kitchen, she checked the water and threw in half the onions he’d chopped up and churned spices in a half a cup of butter.

  She returned from the kitchen and found him sitting up, looking bewildered and frightened.

  “What’s happening to me, Angie?”

  “You’re fine now, darling. Sit here, I’ll prepare dinner. You relax.”

  Angie had placed the potatoes and chicken in the oven when the doorbell rang. Edward had arrived.

  He placed his overnight bag on the hallway floor and kissed her cheek. “Angie, it’s good to see you,” he said, placing a bottle of cooler in the fridge. “What are you making?”