by K A Sands
“Yeah, okay. Yeah,” he cried.
“And your blow goes up your nose or on your own genitals, unless asked. Yours, no one else’s. Got me?” I didn’t squeeze this time, figuring he got the message loud and clear when he winced and tears streamed down his face. He muttered an apology which was good enough for me. “Now, you get dressed and put that thing away, then fucking clean my sister’s room before she comes home and tears you a new one.”
I left him under the watchful eye of Boomer and returned to an empty kitchen, stone cold tea, and no Chrissie to be seen. I called Sophie, time she was home. I was in no mood for any bullshit today.
* * *
Half an hour later and Sophie breezed through the door. My mood hadn’t shifted any and I could see her tense when she came face to face with me in the kitchen. She looked a mess, like she’d just crawled out of someone’s bed. I didn’t like it.
“Where’d you stay?”
“I told you.” She grabbed orange juice from the fridge and turned her back on me. “Ayden’s.”
“The guy from Uni?” I knew exactly where she was, who she was with but couldn’t help needling at her because I was in the mood to do so.
“Yup.” She smacked her p as she said it, pissing me off further.
“The gay one?” I didn’t need the clarification, I’d found out myself the night before but I wanted to catch the lie if she was telling me one.
“The very same.”
“How come I’ve not met him, Sophie? What are you hiding, girl?” There had never really been a need to meet him from what she’d said and I’d seen. He appeared to be a decent bloke, and I doubted she knew I’d had my fingers down his pants in the men’s room the night before either. She’d pitch a bloody fit if she did. “I wanna know who you’re hanging around with.”
Sophie whipped around and scowled at me. “Can we just stop with the suffocating bullshit, Shaun? He’s a nice guy, way fucking nicer than you. That’s all you need to know. You don’t need to be meeting him. My friends don’t need to be yours and yours are certainly not going to be mine.”
I thought about what she said, remembering Shorty from earlier. Yeah, she was right about that, my friends were not her worry. Charlie was. The old man had made idle threats a few times recently, I didn’t take too kindly to it, but I listened. He had me on a short leash for good reason. No one touched my beautiful baby sister and Charlie had the resources to make that happen should I step out of line. Now and again the leash was tested, and he would always smile around the idle threat.
“Why were you at the club anyway?”
“Fancied a night out,” I lied.
She laughed at me. “You can’t peddle your shit in there.”
She was only getting half a truth from me. I knew I couldn’t. I went to the club mostly to keep an eye on her, that was true, but I’d also been scoping the place out for Charlie, at his command. He wanted info on the club, so it worked out in my favour. There was a definite personal vendetta going on between him and the owner, of which I’d had a front row seat to when a gun was shoved in my face. Whatever - there was no chance in hell Charlie was getting his coke in there. He was gonna be pissed when I told him that very thing.
“I’ve no intention.” No lie.
Boomer came into the kitchen and Sophie stiffened when he brushed past her to wash his hands at the sink. I watched with casual interest as he took his fill of her, not in a hungry way like some of the others did, but more an inquisitive way. He’d known Sophie since she was a little girl and his crush was as bad now as it was when he used to pull on her pigtails. My sister was gorgeous, all blonde hair and huge eyes that made her look all innocent and shit. It was hard not to look twice at her. Boomer had an air of respect, genuinely cared, but I still didn’t like him ogling her and he knew it. He kept his looks toward her benign for the most part.
“You all right, Fly?”
She refused to look at him, or answer and it got my back up. “Don’t be fucking rude!” I snapped at her.
She huffed and grunted out a ‘fine’ before finishing her juice and placing the glass at the side of the sink, then making a beeline for the door. I moved with her and snatched at her arm, hauling her back to me.
“This gay friend, Ayden,” I accentuated the gay, “best be on the up, Sophie.”
She smirked at me, a look I hated on her and she knew it. “He’s a good guy, Shaun. One of the best I know. Quit being an arsehole.”
I let go of her arm. If she was telling me he was a good guy, then I’d have to take her word for it. Call me curious though, I wanted to meet him properly, take my fill of him and figure out his angle face to face. See if he could be worth the risks I wanted to take.
Sophie returned to the kitchen, her face red and her words angry. “Which one of your dirty fucking friends was in my room?” Boomer ducked his head and I looked away when I uttered Shorty’s name. She reeled back in disgust. “You let that creepy prick stay in my room?”
“Not exactly.”
“Who else?” She marched over to Boomer. “Who else was in my room?” He didn’t hesitate in telling her it was Chrissie and I could have punched the idiot in the head. Instead I got the punch, a swift and brutal thump to my arm. “Fucking bastard!” There was no love lost between the two girls, never had been. “You let that skanky bitch use my room so she could fuck Shorty in my bed? My bed! Eeeew, Shaun. That’s disgusting. What is wrong with you?”
Not waiting for an answer, she hightailed it from the kitchen, slamming her bedroom door behind her.
“I should string that bloody idiot up by the balls,” I ground out, Boomer agreeing. “I have to go see Charlie. You coming?”
He washed up Sophie’s glass and nodded at me while drying his hands. “Sure. Let’s see how much more trouble you can get into this morning.”
“Fuck off!”
He laughed at me, I sulked at him. Prick.
Ayden
Not wanting to waste his day, my dad left not long after Sophie and Ryder, going back to Beaufort early. He’d said his goodbyes before I went for my shower, with Jake still lying in bed. By the time I’d scrubbed last night from me, I was feeling a hundred times better, and I wandered back into my bedroom in just the damp towel, water still dripping down my torso. Jake looked up from his phone when I sat on the end of the bed.
“You gonna get up today?”
“Grumpy git.”
Yeah, I was. Sophie leaving quick because of her brother being pissed, didn’t sit well with me. I knew he could be an overbearing arse and I guessed this morning was one of those times, just hoped he wasn’t going to be a prick to her.
I shuffled up the bed, my back leaning against the headboard, much the same as Jake. I could see he was still naked, dark pubes just visible above the top of the duvet cover. It was going to be woeful having the conversation that was to follow. Jake had a gorgeous body, not overly muscled but strong enough to take what I dished him. I was going to miss having sex with him, no way to deny it.
“It’s finished, right?” he asked, as if reading what I had on my mind, which was nothing unusual. We were always on the same page.
“Yeah.” Because it was, and he knew it as much as I did. There was no way we could continue down this road, it wouldn’t lead to anything good. “Sorry.”
“Hey,” he chuckled, “don’t be. It was fun.” Oh, it had certainly been fun, boundaries tested, lines crossed. “Could you do me one last time?”
His question was so blasé, I turned to look at him thinking he was joking, only to be met with a steadfast stare that told me he wasn’t kidding in the least. “Jake...” I started.
He stopped me with a hand in the air. “We used the belt once, you remember?”
How could I forget? I thought it would go down as one of the hottest sexual experiences I’d have, the craziest fucking thing I’d ever done. Would be hard to beat. I hummed low in my throat, my dick plumping at the memory of my best friend submitting to
me on his hands and knees, a brown leather belt fastened around his neck, his head snapped back, gasping for air while I thrust in and out of him. The vision was hard to get out of my head.
“I only did that because it was you,” he said. “It was safe because it was you. I don’t think I’ll get this again.”
I agreed with him, how could I not? I didn’t know if I’d feel comfortable enough with anyone else to be able to tie a belt around their neck and strangle them as I took my pleasure and fucked them into oblivion. Jake had come, hands free that time, my orgasm never ending. I shuddered thinking back on it.
“I want you to do it again. One last time, for the spank bank.” He winked at me and shoved his hand under the duvet. “Jesus, my dick’s weeping already thinking about it.”
Here’s the thing. I liked my sex rough, Jake liked his dirty and we bounced off each other when we came together; we were explosive. I wasn’t a paltry smack on the arse and a few hard thrusts kind of rough either. I was all in. I bit, I squeezed, and I fucked, taking and taking hard. The only person who had ever laid out and took it from me without complaint, enjoying it as much as I did, was Jake. I didn’t know why I couldn’t get off with a gentle hand, but I had to be in control, using a heavy hand. Even sneaky blow jobs behind seedy clubs with random strangers never satisfied me the way a night in bed with Jake had.
“The belt?” I asked, to clarify. My dick was on board, I was so hard the head poked through the slit in the towel, but the sensible me had reservations.
“Hands and neck.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, “show me.”
Jake threw the duvet off and I watched as he ran his hand up and down his cock, the crown dripping with copious amounts of pre-come. He hitched his knees up and spread his legs, so I could get an eyeful of his balls hanging loose underneath.
“You gonna scream?”
“You gonna go easy?”
“Not a chance.”
“I wanna feel you inside me. One last time, then we move the fuck on. I love you, Ayden, but I need your friendship more than I need your dick.”
Always on the same wavelength.
Opening the towel fully, so he could see how turned on I was, I realised I didn’t want angry and rough, not this last time, not with Jake. I just wanted some good old-fashioned sex, no matter how long it took to come.
I lumbered over and pulled Jake down the bed, climbing on top of him. My weight pinned him to the mattress, a thing he said he always liked. He wasn’t much smaller than me, less muscle, could take me lying there no problem. Kissing him, rubbing my length against his when I pulled away, I stared into his eyes.
“No belt. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”
Jake was a broken man. He’d grown up in an abusive household, though he hid it well, I saw right through it, knew his history. From about the age of eight, we’d been a constant fixture in each other’s lives. Inseparable. When his mother was too pissed to feed him, I’d drag him to mine. When his dad got heavy handed, which was often, I’d make him stay. My dad had beat down his father many a time for lifting his hand to Jake as a young boy.
Anyone looking at him would take him for the quiet, polite young man he portrayed. I knew better. He was so far beyond damaged, and let very few people in. I considered it an honour he let me get close. Even my dad and Ryder didn’t really know him beyond what he let them see. Our friendship was forever, and I didn’t want to lose that by fucking around and making silly decisions without thinking of the consequences.
Ryder was right, shit storm waiting to happen.
“Last time, yeah?”
He blew out a breath. “Last time.”
Kissing him again, the only person I’d ever touched lips with, the noisy, sloppy kisses had no finesse through lack of practice. He never complained when my teeth clashed against his or I bit down too hard on his tongue. He just drew me in with the sighs and moans I could pull from him time and again.
Drawing out a packet of lube from under the pillow, he handed it to me, and I tore it open, letting the contents dribble down onto my fingers as I raised to my knees over him. Sliding inside his thighs, I nudged his legs wider, slick fingers probing, looking for the promised land. Jake never wanted much prep, liked the bite of pain same as I did, so I scissored two fingers into him, and spread him wide, pushing in and out a few times.
“Make me feel good,” he moaned as I shifted away and grabbed for a condom from the bedside drawer. Suiting up and rubbing more lube along my length, I lined up my cock, eager to please.
“Last time,” I said again, sinking into his tight heat.
On a gasp, Jake closed his eyes and barely whispered the words back to me. For the first time in my life, I made love to a man, hoping it wouldn’t be my last, even if it wasn’t with Jake, my best friend.
* * *
The noise of a text message pulled me from my fragmented sleep, the distant thought to get up crossing my mind. The text from Sophie had me wide awake after I’d fumbled with the mobile and squinted to read it.
Sophie: Do you have a spare bed for a few nights?
Jake was getting up too when I showed him the text. The Loft was as much his as it was mine, he had a say so in who stayed here too. I had no problems with it, the spare room perfect for any guests. I was, however, curious as to why now. We’d both extended the offer to her on numerous occasions, but she’d always turned us down. She didn’t like home that we knew of, yet she stayed. Probably for her brother.
“You think the brother pissed her off?”
“What else? I’ll text my dad and let him know. Just in case he decides to stop over one night and wanders into the room.”
“Yeah. Good idea. Ask her if she wants a lift, I can go get her.” Jake stretched his arms upwards and I smirked at the bite marks on his chest. “Fucking animal,” he grumbled as he gingerly ran a finger over one of the raised red spots. Leaning over, I swiped my mouth over where I’d sunk my teeth, then returned my attention to the matter at hand.
Me: Sure. Need a lift? Jake can come get you.
Sophie: In a taxi now. No need. TY x
“She’s on her way.”
“Already? That can’t be good.”
Getting out of bed and dressed, I’d have another shower later. Right now, I wanted to make sure the spare room was okay.
My dad had bought the Loft last year, didn’t want us in student digs when we came down, something both Jake and I had been grateful for. He’d paid a lot for the property, prime square footage with three huge bedrooms and spacious living areas. There was an intercom system down in the lobby, one of those places you paid an exorbitant annual fee for ‘maintenance.’ My dad had money, a lot of money, but I didn’t abuse it, it wasn’t mine, I hadn’t earned it. But both Jake and I had loved the flat on sight, it was airy, with lots of space and it never felt like Jake and I were in each other’s hair. Another person living here would not be a problem. If Sophie needed the space to dance, I’d even clear out the dining room for her. We hardly used it anyway.
“Her brother really is an arse hole,” Jake grumbled as he left the room.
Truth was, we didn’t know because she never imparted much personal stuff about him, only shallow stuff, nothing that mattered. I was betting Jake was right on the money though, why else would she go home then re-appear looking for a place to stay a few hours later?
The buzzer went as I was stripping the sheets from the spare bed Sophie would be using. My dad had stayed last night so I thought it best to put clean linen on. Not that he was dirty or anything, just seemed like common courtesy, something she’d appreciate.
When I walked in the living room, Sophie stood in the same clothes she’d worn to the club and left in earlier. Jake was hugging her close and when she looked over at me, her bloodshot eyes alluded to her having been crying. My anger was instant, hating seeing anyone as upset as Sophie was.
“I fucking hate him.” Jake smoothed a hand down her hair and kissed her hea
d. If only he’d get his act together. “He let two of his skanky mate’s shag in my bed. I can’t stay there, sleep there. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. As soon as I’m sorted, I’m out of your hair. I promise.”
I stepped in closer and draped my arm around the pair of them, kissing Sophie’s cheek. “Hey, it’s all right. There’s plenty room, take all the time you need. It’s not an imposition, we’d love to have you.”
And that was how Sophie finally came to live with Jake and me.
Shaun
Charlie’s office always made me feel sick. I was sure the old man lived in there, puffing on his cheap cigars and sipping his even cheaper whisky. When I knocked, and he shouted ‘enter,’ I stole a deep breath and swaggered into the room, Boomer trailing behind me.
“Out!” Charlie bellowed whilst pointing a finger at my friend. “Don’t need the monkey today.”
Prick.
The door closed with a barely supressed bang behind me as I made my way to the stained seats in front of Charlie’s cluttered desk. I’d be sure to wash my jeans the minute I got home, God knows how many people had sat in those chairs and pissed themselves. I didn’t think Charlie had a cleaner - not in the housework kind of sense anyway.
“Well?”
I shifted in my seat, knowing he wasn’t going to like what I had to say. “You’re gonna struggle getting anything through those doors and into the club.”
“You got in all right.”
“Getting in wasn’t the problem.”
“What exactly was the problem then, Gripp?”
“Being man-handled into a storeroom and having a gun pointed at my head was the problem.”
Charlie’s bushy eyebrows lifted at my matter of fact comment, then he burst out laughing. “He pulled a gun on you? Well, the boy has balls, I’ll give him that. He knew who you were?”
God, this man was a fucking joke.
“Yeah. Was very switched on, knows us all.”
“He’s not stupid, Gripp. He knows I’m gunning for his club, a club that was meant to be mine.”
