The Other Man (Starting Over Book 2)

by Matthew J. Metzger

  Aled winced.

  “You will need to talk to him.”

  “Yeah—”

  Suze cocked her head, frowning. “This isn’t like you. You never got jealous of Melissa’s other regular guys. And I thought you had dinner with that kinky guy Gabriel likes? Kieran?”

  “Kevin. I did. He’s nice. He did your kitchen refit, remember?”

  “Oh, that guy?” For a moment, she grinned. “Gabriel has good taste.”

  Aled rolled his eyes.

  “So where’s this come from, then? What did the texts say?”

  “They were just—crass. You know, shit like, ‘when are you back, I have something for you to do’ and ‘I miss seeing your arse around my cock.’ Just crass Grindr-type shit.”

  “What if he’d said—I don’t know, ‘I miss you’ or just ‘when are you home, we could get together next week if you’re free?’”

  Aled hesitated. “I—I don’t think I’d have minded that so much.”

  “So, it’s this guy being all crass and overly sexual that bothered you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Or maybe it’s the lack of care?”

  Aled blinked. “Sorry?”

  “Well, this other guy, Kieran—”

  “Kevin.”

  “—what if he’d texted saying ‘get your arse over here’ or sent a dick pic or something?”

  Nothing happened. No flare of anger. No twitch in his brain. Nothing.

  “That—doesn’t bother me.”

  “But you know Kevin cares, don’t you?” Suze pressed. “You’ve met him once or twice. You know he takes care of Gabriel as much as you do.”

  “I—yeah.”

  Kevin did extreme stuff. Stuff even Aled thought was too far. Gabriel always came back from shagging Kevin looking like he’d gone ten rounds with a professional boxer. But Kevin was also Gabriel’s best friend, and if he came back smashed up, he also came bright and buoyant and brimming over with energy. He came back beautiful.

  “Does Michael?”

  “Does he what?”

  “Care.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if he did, would that make it better?” Suze asked. “Like, if he’s all crass and let’s fuck and rude by text but in person, he’s—I don’t know, he likes to cuddle, and he picks Gabriel up from work when it’s raining, all that nice person stuff?”

  “I don’t know, Suze,” Aled said in frustration. “I can theorise but I don’t know. What if this guy hacks me off just by being around? What if—”

  What if it wasn’t just him?

  What if it was just Michael right now, but it would be the next guy too? And Kevin? And anyone else? And—

  Gabriel would walk.

  “Stop it,” Suze said. “Stop panicking and just think, okay?”

  Aled swallowed.

  “Michael might be fine. You might like him. If this issue is that you think he doesn’t care, then all you have to do is get some evidence that he does. Maybe meet him, maybe see more of his text messages, talk to Gabriel about what he’s like. I mean, Michael could look at you just the same.”

  Aled frowned. “How do you mean?”

  “Well, some of what you text each other probably looks really awful if you don’t know about BDSM and stuff.”

  Aled paused. That was true. But—

  “Michael’s vanilla.”

  “Even vanilla people like porn and dirty talk sometimes. Tom’s so vanilla he’s practically just milk, but even he likes to call me a slut occasionally when I’m sucking him off.”

  Aled grimaced. “Really? Tom?”

  “It’s the closest he gets to being good in bed,” she said dismissively, then waved a hand. “Back to the point. Maybe Michael’s fine and you just caught something out of context. I think you need a bigger picture before you go jumping to some conclusion that you’re a madly jealous shit and there’s going to be major problems.”

  Aled groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. She was talking sense, but—

  “And what if I am? What if Michael’s a complete cunt and I’m jealous of him? What if he’s not a shit and I’m still jealous of him?”

  “Then I guess you and Gabriel need to talk about how to handle that. Maybe Gabriel would be willing to let this one guy go if you’re super clear that you’re not asking for monogamy. Or maybe Gabriel just not talking about him anymore would solve the issue and you can feign ignorance and feel fine about it.”

  “I can’t ask him to move in now,” Aled said desperately. “You know what he’s like, if he thinks I’m getting jealous and trying to get more control over his life—”

  “But you’re not.”

  “—at the same time—he won’t see it like that, Suze.”

  She hummed, twisting her wine glass between her palms. She’d barely touched it. “Yeah. I see what you mean.”

  “So what the hell do I do? If I ask him to move in then later bring up I’m jealous of one of his other guys, he’ll freak. But if I do it the other way around, he might freak just at the jealous thing, and—”

  “Okay, in his shoes—I think I would be weirded out more by ‘move in with me’ followed by ‘I don’t want you seeing this guy.’ That—I don’t know, that seems more controlling to me. Less coincidental. You know, that’s—that’s the kind of thing you see building up in those domestic violence storylines on the soaps.”

  “Shall I pretend I watch the soaps?” Aled asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He snorted but nodded.

  “So, I think you need to talk about Michael first. And pause the moving-in question until everything settles again after that. I mean, if it turns out you’ve completely got the wrong end of the stick and you’re not a bit jealous when you find out he’s really into snuggling and kittens and volunteers to help old ladies cross the road, it might all blow over as a complete nothing and you can ask about living together anyway.”

  Aled smiled but didn't really feel it. Somehow he couldn't see Michael being into kittens and snuggling. The off vibe was just too strong. And he was torn between listening to his instincts and telling his instincts not to be so damn judgemental. It wasn't like Aled's career and hobbies were all that predictable from his sexual preferences either.

  “And if it’s not, and I can’t stand the idea of Gabriel anywhere near this guy?”

  “Then—yeah. Keep moving as a separate thing, I think. Really separate.”

  Aled nodded, raking his hands through his hair again. “Fucking hell. When did I get jealous, Suze?”

  “I don’t think you are,” she said softly, reaching across the breakfast bar to squeeze his hand. “I think it’s something about this guy, not guys in general.”

  “Why? How do you know?”

  “Because you never have been before. And you were just as nuts about Melissa as you are about Gabriel. And you said yourself, you don’t think Kevin’s a problem. So I think something about this one guy has rubbed you the wrong way, and I think maybe it’s that crassness. I mean, your whole issue with your sex life has always been that you don’t like how your aggression comes across. Your aftercare has always been a good cuddle and—well, care. Maybe you think this guy doesn’t care, and you’re wary about trusting someone you love to him. And I think if you frame it that way, and you let Gabriel prove you wrong—if he can—then it’ll be okay. You know Kevin cares. And you know that because you sat down with him and talked.”

  Aled blinked.

  It clicked in his head.

  He’d—he’d been jealous then, too. Anger at what he’d thought had happened had morphed into this ugly jealousy whenever Gabriel had mentioned Kevin for a whole week, until Aled had decided that he couldn’t just ignore things.

  Gabriel had come over the week before Christmas with a black eye that would have put a professional boxer to shame. And Aled had hit the roof. Suddenly, that hot rage in his stomach wasn’t as unfamiliar as he’d thought—he’d had
it before, that Christmas, with Gabriel trying to explain that it wasn’t what it looked like.

  And it had taken sitting down with the owner of the fist that had caused it and talking about what they did together.

  He’d seen for himself that Kevin wasn’t what he looked like. He was like Aled—someone extremely dominant, even violent, when it came to sex and yet harmless outside of it. He cared for Gabriel, just as much—although differently, perhaps—as Aled did. He did things for Gabriel that were too much for Aled to manage, the kind of BDSM that Aled liked in porn but couldn’t act out himself. But it had taken sitting down with Kevin, talking about it, and eventually sitting in on a session and watching the way he cared for Gabriel after the fact for Aled to really believe it.

  “Shit,” Aled said. “It was—it was the same with Kevin.”

  “What?”

  “I felt like this when I thought Kevin had smacked Gabriel around. Remember? Before Christmas, like you said.”

  Suze blinked. “That was why you wanted to talk to him?”

  “Yeah. Gabriel came over with a shiner and blood all down his thighs and I flipped my shit.”

  “Because of Kevin?”

  “Yeah, Gabriel had a bad day and nearly came off the wagon, so he went to Kevin and Kevin beat him for it. It’s one of their things. And I—you know. Would you believe it, if someone told you that?”

  “Not really.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But that’s great!”

  Aled blinked at the sudden tangent. “Is it?”

  “Yes!” Suze gave him a megawatt grin. “You got mad, you got jealous, just like now, because you thought this other guy was abusive or taking advantage. And Gabriel didn’t dump you, you worked it all out. Together. So talk to Gabe. Tell him it’s like that time. And if Michael’s actually a sweetheart like Kevin is, then you’ve nothing to be jealous of and you can get over yourself.”

  Aled nodded, and his shoulders finally relaxed. They’d worked through the issue with Kevin. No problem. As long as Michael was just like Kevin, then it would be fine, and Aled could get back on track persuading Gabriel to move in.

  And if Michael was a crass idiot who only saw Gabriel as a place to stick his dick, then—

  Then maybe Aled wouldn’t feel so bad about trying to persuade them to part ways after all.

  Chapter Four

  The first day back at work sucked.

  Gabriel stacked shelves in a Tesco Express. He didn’t have any qualifications to get a proper job, but he’d been doing it long enough that he was at least a fraction above the minimum wage. Sometimes he helped train the new staff. Sometimes he helped old ladies work the self-service checkout. And sometimes he had sex in the stockroom with one of the cashiers—but Jonathan didn’t work Tuesdays and Gabriel’s spotty teenager of a manager decided to give him another lecture about ambition.

  “I don’t have work ambitions,” Gabriel said, which only served to piss her off. “I’d like to shag someone from every county in the country, though. Does that count?”

  It didn’t count.

  He texted Kevin as he left. He wasn’t allowed to walk home after dark on his own—his flat was in a rough neighbourhood and Gabriel didn’t pass consistently enough to rely on it being generally a bad idea to approach unknown men in Belle Isle. Whether it was Aled or Kevin who picked him up was negotiable. But after a whole weekend and this morning with Aled, Gabriel fancied a change of pace.

  And Kevin was expecting him, because the reply came back within seconds.

  Kevin: On my way.

  Gabriel lounged by the door, smoking and talking to the security guard about the possibility of the store closing down. It was threatening to snow. Gabriel wasn’t really one for Christmas—he usually had to spend it making awkward small talk with his grandfather and uncles in Pudsey, instead of on his back with someone ploughing him like a field as he would have preferred—but a white Christmas was tempting. Leeds was pretty in the snow. Even Wakefield looked nice. It had snowed on Aled’s birthday last year, and he’d fucked Gabriel in a snowdrift. It had bloody hurt and been bloody fantastic to boot.

  Kevin’s banger of a car pulled up into a proper parking spot, and Gabriel worked his way through another cigarette as Kevin did a quick circuit. Typical mid-week emergency supplies of a family man, even if Kevin looked more like a mob enforcer than anyone’s dad. The basket gave him away. Nappies, milk and a pack of burgers.

  “Burgers?” Gabriel asked when he came back out.

  “Grace is having a phase,” Kevin said, and rolled his eyes.

  Kevin was a big man. Big shoulders, big chest, big dick. When Kevin fucked him, Gabriel could feel it for a week. Even gentle handling from someone with hands like Kevin’s felt dangerous. When he leaned over for a kiss in the car, Gabriel felt like any wrong move would leave a bruise on his jaw—even though Kevin was barely touching him.

  He shivered and pressed harder into the kiss.

  “You want the basement after all?” Kevin rumbled.

  “Too sore,” Gabriel admitted. “Maybe next week?”

  “No problem.”

  They didn’t talk again on the way over. The silence was comfortable. Gabriel surfed radio channels, Kevin drove and they ignored each other peacefully enough until the garage door closed behind him and plunged them into darkness.

  Then Gabriel jumped as a hand was pushed insistently down the front of his jeans.

  “Too sore, huh?”

  “Um—inside. Too—too sore inside.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have been sucking on my tongue like a slut, should you?”

  Gabriel whined. He lifted his hips as Kevin’s fingers pushed farther back, and began to ride the heel of his palm. A single finger forced its way inside, and he whimpered at the painful scratch of a jagged nail edge.

  “Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll fuck your arse instead.”

  Oh, fuck. Gabriel clamped his own hand over his mouth. It had been far too long since Kevin’s deep threats, and now he had to be finger-fucked in silence? That was just—

  The nail caught. Pain blossomed. Blood poured south, and he rutted into Kevin’s palm like a horny virgin.

  “F-fuck—”

  Gabriel’s face hit the dashboard. He bit his tongue. Tasted blood. He was cupped between both hands, one down the front and one down the back, then—

  “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck—!”

  Another nail. Dry. Pushing. Forcing—

  “One more word out of you and it will be a fuck.”

  He gasped wordlessly as he was probed. The jagged nails hurt. The blunt stabs of movement ached. And the constant moving pressure of Kevin’s palm against his cock, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing—

  Then it stopped.

  Air. The tightening frenzy began to fade. The high sank.

  But he was still there. One finger in his arse and two in his cunt. Being cut open from the inside by rough nails. Pinned.

  Waiting.

  Gabriel could sense the danger. He knew the next step. If he spoke again, Kevin would fuck him properly. Shove that thick prick in him and fuck until he bled. Fill him up. Then if he was feeling really sadistic, fist him. Plunge the cum and the blood right back out of him on Kevin’s fist—

  His cock strained. It ached. It wanted.

  He licked his lips—and Kevin spoke.

  “What do I get if I let you come?”

  Silence.

  “Seems only fair that I get something out of it.”

  More silence.

  “Don’t you agree?”

  Gabriel felt the sweat running down the back of his neck.

  And another finger pushed at his arse.

  “Don’t.”

  Pain crackled up his spine as it entered him.

  “You.”

  Deeper.

  “Agree?”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  The fingers stilled.

  “That’s better.”

  Kevin’s voice was very
low. Deeper than the darkness in the garage and twice as frightening. Gabriel shivered as fear and lust wound around one another in his brain into a tangled weave.

  “You wanted a kiss earlier.”

  It sounded like a change of subject, but Gabriel knew better. He whimpered.

  “If your cock gets to come, only fair that mine does. And you can have all the kisses you want while you’re fucking it. Sound fair?”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “After you.”

  Gabriel groaned when the fingers started to fuck him again. And it wasn’t slow and torturous anymore. It was fast. A proper fuck. It hurt. He could feel blood from Kevin’s fingernails. And when they caught at the exact same time, and dragged—

  He came.

  Came.

  Fucked Kevin’s palm like he’d not had sex in a year. White-out. Air like icicles inside. Shook apart. Came.

  Came so hard that—

  That then—

  Gabriel came back to himself muzzily. He felt heavy. Lethargic. Almost drunk. His jeans were gone. His hips ached. Bruises on the outside and a dick like hot steel inside. Fucking. In and out and in again. He relaxed on it. Sagged against Kevin’s shirt, hips being smashed down between those huge hands, just—limp. Being fucked like a doll. A toy. A plaything.

  He ducked his head against Kevin’s jaw. Nudged. A mouth swallowed his own, all teeth and tongue and heat.

  When he was flooded, it felt like being washed from the ocean to an island that was home.

  When he was pushed back against the steering wheel and inspected, it was like being studied as a work of art.

  And when he was fisted and the cum punched right back out, it should have felt like agonising torture.

  Instead, it felt like being anchored back to shore.

  * * * *

  “There you are!” Judith trilled when he came back downstairs from the shower. “I thought you might have fallen in the toilet and drowned!”

  Gabriel just grinned at the sight in front of him.

  From being fucked and fisted in Kevin’s car to this? Really?

  It was nearly seven, and the whole house smelled of dinner. Kevin was sprawled on the sofa, three-year-old Grace snoring against his left shoulder and four-year-old Lily against his right. Judith was tucked up in the armchair, breastfeeding their newest addition and cooing every time a chubby hand waved.