by CJ Bishop
Gabe's arms squeezed around him as the man fucked him harder, needing the release, as if it would somehow ease his fears and worries over Abel. Gabe grabbed his own cock in his tight fist and jerked off erratically as Cole fucked him with as much urgency.
“Fuck!” Gabe cried out sharp, loud. “Fuck, Cole! Fuck me! Uuuhh!! I'm gonna fucking cum!”
Shouting out his own ecstasy, Cole slammed hard and deep into the guy's ass and unloaded with force, strangled yells bursting forth. Gabe came seconds later, shooting hot juice up onto his chest. Panting hard, Cole dragged his tongue over the man's chest, licking up his cum then kissing him. Gabe's fingers shoved into his hair, holding his head firm as they kissed deep. Cole's heart did a sudden, unexpected flip-flop in his chest as a funny tickling sensation zipped through his body, making him shiver with an unusual delight.
What the fuck was that? Cole's heart pounded like crazy as their lips parted. He could feel the shock resonating in his eyes and wondered if it was as obvious to Gabe—as Gabe's shock was to him.
They had both felt it.
Chapter Four
Pattern Of Life
The next two days dragged by at a snail's pace. Abel ached to visit Savannah but was sick at the thought of running into Devlin. When he started to consider going anyway, the shakes would start. He couldn't look the man in the face. Maybe never again.
Cole had visited Savannah for him, though she repeatedly asked for Abel. When Cole came home from the second visit, he brought a small envelope from Savannah.
“She asked me to give this to you.” Cole said when he handed Abel the envelope.
“What is it?”
Cole shrugged. “She didn't say.”
Tugging open the flap, Abel withdrew a single photo; the one of him and Devlin, taken that day...that his life took its final leap into hell. His hands shook as he turned it over. Savannah had scrawled a simple message on the back; You belong together.
He didn't know the tears were falling until he felt Cole's thumb slide across his cheek and wipe them away. A hard sob broke out and he tore the photo to pieces. “No, we don't!” he cried. “We don't belong together! I don't belong anywhere!” Cole grabbed him and hugged him tight. Abel held onto him, sobbing. “It hurts so much. I don't want to be here anymore. I just...I want to go away...where I'll never see him again...far away.” Cole's arms tightened and he kissed his hair.
Far away. Overseas. Maybe Kaplan's offer didn't seem so unpleasant anymore. So what if he had to fuck the guy? What did it matter anymore? At least he would be away from here, away from Devlin—and the reality he couldn't live with.
He pulled out of Cole's arms and wiped his face. “I'm sorry.” he cleared his throat.
“Abel...you don't need to be sorry.” He rubbed his hand down the back of Abel's head. “You're going through some unimaginable shit.”
Abel stared at the floor, the bits of the photo strewn around. That was his life now; ripped apart beyond repair. “Everyone goes through shit.” he whispered tight. He looked at Cole. “Can we go to the club?” His cold was still clinging on, but this apartment was beginning to feel like a prison. He needed his customers—men who only wanted his cock...and would leave his heart the fuck alone.
* * * *
When Devlin had seen Cole in the corridor the first time, he had no control over the sudden spike that sent his heart through the roof. Was Abel there as well? He hadn't laid eyes on the boy since the events at the coffee shop. Fuck—he was like a junkie in desperate need of another fix.
But in approaching Cole, he had been given the cold shoulder, told that Abel wasn't ready to talk and—again—receiving no explanation.
He had lost count of the number of times he'd driven by the club, and Abel's apartment. At times parking and contemplating trying to talk to the boy despite Cole's insistence to keep his distance. How long was he supposed to keep his distance? Infinitely? There was no fucking way. He'd be damned if he was just going to go skipping along his merry way without some explanation as to why his entire fucking world just spontaneously blew apart into a million fucking pieces.
The second time Cole had shown up at the hospital—yet again without Abel—Devlin had confronted the man once more in an attempt to get even a hint of what had went wrong between him and Abel. Yet to no avail. He didn't understand the secrecy. Their final conversation played over and over in his head as he scrutinized every tiny detail—and yet it still made no sense why Abel had shifted so suddenly, just turned on him and ran away. There had to be something he was missing, some piece of the puzzle he wasn't seeing.
Or not wanting to see.
Why did that damn thought keep pushing into his head? Why would his subconscious mind deliberately look away from the tell-tale cause of Abel's meltdown? Yet that one little thought nagged at him, and over and over he went, retracing the conversation, and still coming up with nothing. What could he possibly not be seeing? And why the hell wouldn't they just tell him?
A ray of sun broke through the thick, black clouds and stabbed through the Sedan's windshield, impairing his vision—like God poking him in the eye and telling him it wasn't polite to spy on people. Even less polite to stalk.
It's their fault, he reasoned with himself and the man upstairs, making an attempt to justify him being parked less than a block down from Abel's apartment waiting for...what? He wasn't quite sure. They drove me to desperate measures. If they would've just talked to me and told me the truth of the matter, I wouldn't have to stake out his apartment and workplace.
Whether or not God bought into his justification remained to be seen. But it worked for him. He perked up when Cole emerged from the building with Abel in tow. Devlin's heart raced as crazily as if he hadn't seen the boy in months. God knew, it felt like that long. Even from this distance, it seemed he could see every excruciatingly beautiful detail of Abel's face. Another ray of sun dropped down on the boy's head, illuminating his blond hair, creating a kind of halo. Devlin wouldn't have been surprised to see his lovely angel sprout large beautiful white wings and fly back home to heaven.
“Oh man.” he groaned and gripped the steering wheel, leaning forward a hair as if it could afford him a better look at the boy. “This is beyond desperate. You could be arrested for this...surely.” This would look great on his record—'Young, promising intern caught stalking hot, sexy male stripper.'
* * * *
Max leaned on the far end of the bar, talking casually with a customer. The guy was younger than Max by a good ten years and though he didn't seem to be hitting on Max—he was sure as hell flirting like mad. Abel didn't have to be up close to see that. It was understandable. Max might have been a bit over forty, but he was a good looking man with an extremely fit body. He rarely interacted with the customers, leaving them to his boys, but he seemed pleasantly engaged with this one.
When he noticed Abel and Cole, he leaned close to the guy, spoke quietly in his ear. The young man smiled and nodded, then twisted on his stool and watched Max leave him and walk their way. Whether or not he'd propositioned the guy to hook up with him later, Abel didn't really give a fuck. He didn't care to contemplate the man's affairs. These days, he wasn't feeling too fond of Maxwell Raines.
“Abel.” he spoke low, with even a bit of caution, as if understanding how Abel was feeling about him. “It's good to see you feeling better.” Abel just stared at him, and granted him a slight nod. Max rubbed his chin absently. “Could I speak with you, in my office?”
Abel followed Max without a word as Cole disappeared into the back. As soon as the office door closed behind him, Abel found his voice. “Why did you tell Kaplan about Savannah?” he demanded low, tight.
Max went to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, rested against the front edge. “I thought he should know what he should expect to pay out—if you accepted his offer.”
“You had no right to tell him.” Abel insisted. “It isn't any of his fucking business. He doesn't need to know what the money i
s for.” Tears simmered at the surface. God, he felt like he was losing his fucking mind—and he didn't need Horatio Kaplan with a front row seat to his impending insanity, adding his two cent's worth to help drive him over the edge.
“I'm sorry.” Max offered sincerely. “I crossed the line and I apologize. I know how you prefer to keep your private life—private.”
If you knew, then why the fuck did you tell him? He left the question unasked.
“Look, Abel...” Max rubbed his hand over his mouth and let it linger. “This isn't what I wanted for you. In truth...” he met Abel's somewhat rigid stare. “...you deserve better than all of this. It seems almost a waste. There's so much you could do with your life.”
Like what? Abel thought sourly. Honestly? What other asset did he have but his ass? He hadn't developed any skills other than street survival and the art of seduction. Besides, he wanted nothing to do with the world outside...or anyone in it.
“I like it here.” he mumbled, dropping his hostility. “I don't need anything else.”
Max sighed then smiled. “I wasn't implying you should leave.” he assured him. “I just want you to know that I don't just see you as...a piece of ass with a dollar sign. I care about you, Abel. And Savannah. In some ways...you feel like my own kids.”
Do all fathers pimp their sons out to the highest bidder? He wasn't being fair and he knew it. Max had said straight up that he hadn't been planning on telling Abel about Kaplan's offer, but for the money issue he had brought it up. But was that the truth? Or had he conspired with Kaplan to get Abel to accept the offer? They seemed awful social.
Abel just looked at him without response. Max sighed again and pushed off the front of the desk and walked around behind it, sitting down. “I understand that Horatio wants you to fly overseas with him on the weekends.”
How chummy was Max with this guy? Abel nodded, “Yeah.” he murmured.
“How do you feel about that?”
Abel shrugged.”Doesn't matter.” he muttered quiet. “I'll do it. The club will get its share, Savannah will get her care, and me...” He gazed dully at Max. “I guess I'll get fucked.”
But why change the pattern now? Life had fucked him in the ass from the start, and Kaplan—as well as all the other shit dumping down on him—was just one more indication that it didn't intend to stop.
* * * *
The Sedan sat in the same parking space as the first night Devlin had ventured to the club. Again, he stared across the street at the front entrance. There weren't as many customers filing in and out, being the middle of the day. And the music was much lower. Yet now, it seemed even more daunting, the prospect of walking in there. How many steps inside would he get before Cole or Gabe sent his ass packing? He hadn't seen Gabe since the night he talked to him at the bar, but Cole had developed a tinge of hostility—as if he thought Devlin meant Abel some kind of harm? But how could he think that? Why would he think it?
He needed some fucking answers and he was damn sick and tired of being left in the dark. He had every fucking right to know what he'd done to cause Abel to run from him.
Anger simmering his blood, he shoved open the drive door and stepped out. If they wanted him to leave without answers—then they would have to pick his ass up and throw him out.
Chapter Five
To See You Again
Unfamiliar tension stapled Cole's intestines, pinching, causing a funny tickle behind his naval when he spotted Gabe at the bar, engaged in a casual conversation with Carl. This was a new development—this funny feeling in his gut. He'd never experienced it before with Gabe. Not with anyone, really. The man was quick to inspire other effects, no doubt about it. Always had been. But this...was all new, and Cole wasn't sure how to define it or deal with it.
That other day with Gabe, on Abel's sofa...it had been...strangely fulfilling in ways their other encounters hadn't. And caused his heart to go a little crazy—kind of like it was doing now.
What is wrong with you? This is Gabe. Fuck friend extraordinaire. But that's all. His breath began to puff from his nostrils as he approached the bar and he had to force his breathing back into normal range. He dropped onto the stool beside Gabe as if nothing had changed and he had no invested interest in the man.
“Beer?” Carl asked.
“Yeah.” Cole glanced at Gabe. The guy twisted his glass on the bar top, a bit of rigidness to his back. Gabe had never been tense—or nervous—around him before. Shit, the things they had done together—it left no room for nervousness. You were either comfortable with it or you weren't. And they always had been.
The customer pool was shallow at the moment, though it would pick up once the sun started to go down. Something about the darkness seemed to nurse the belief that one could hide their sins more effectively—as if God didn't have night vision. It wouldn't be long before a crowd began to build.
“You went to see Savannah today?” Gabe asked suddenly, downing a portion of his beer. He didn't look at Cole, just continued to twist the glass back and forth.
“Yeah.” Carl slid a fresh glass of Coors over to him and he took a sip. “She keeps asking for Abel.”
“When is he going to visit her again?”
“Soon.” Cole murmured. “He doesn't want to go to the hospital, but he won't stay away from his sister.”
Gabe sighed and pressed his lips tight. “Did you see the doc?”
“Yeah.” Cole nodded. “He isn't backing down. And I think he's starting to get pissed that we won't tell him anything. He'll resort to drastic measures before too long.”
“Drastic measures?”
Cole looked at him and the guy finally met his eyes. “He's parked outside right now.” shook his head and swallowed more of his drink. “Followed us from Abel's.”
Gabe cocked an eyebrow. “Does Abel know?”
“No.” Cole sighed, and glanced towards the entrance. “He'll be working his way inside here pretty soon.”
Following his eyes to the door, Gabe asked, “And then what?”
“Don't know.” Cole admitted. “Abel is gonna have to tell him something. He isn't going to go away. Not until he gets some kind of explanation.”
A different tension gripped Gabe. “It's too risky telling him the truth. What if he went straight out and called the cops?”
Cole shrugged. “It's Abel's call. As of right now...he don't want to tell him anything.”
“Good.” Gabe whispered. The man had real affection and concern for Abel, which Cole found painfully endearing and made him want to kiss the guy. And why not?
Cole reached over and grabbed the back of Gabe's neck, and leaned around in front of him, planting a kiss on his lips—deep, warm. When he drew back, Gabe cleared his throat and smiled uncertainly. “What was that for?”
“We need a reason now?” Cole wondered, his lips twitching, playing it cool. But fuck—his heart felt like the rapid thump of a rabbit's foot, smacking his ribs. And his cock was so freaking hard all of the sudden he nearly whimpered.
“No, I...” Gabe locked eyes with him, their faces close. Cole could feel the man's breath, slightly quick, rushing through his nostrils. “I don't suppose we do.” Something shifted behind those baby blues that both terrified and excited Cole beyond measure. Gabe seemed about to go for another kiss when his gaze flicked past Cole and his face tightened. “Doctor alert.” he murmured tensely. “Nine o'clock.”
Twisting around to his right, Cole spotted Devlin standing at the entrance, eyes darting around anxiously—no doubt seeking Abel. He sighed when the doctor's gaze slid across him and Gabe, and hardened with determination. “I got this.” he told Gabe and abandoned the stool as Devlin walked towards them.
* * * *
I don't care if you can kick my ass—you're going to damn well tell me something. Devlin wondered at his courage. He'd always considered himself more of the lover type, than the fighter. But now, he swore he was ready to go fist to fist with anyone who tried to keep him away from Abel any lo
nger—even if it meant getting the piss beat out of him. Which Cole was entirely capable of doing. Still, Devlin didn't hesitate as he approached the man.
“Doc.” Cole shook his head slowly, lips tight. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You know damn well what I'm doing here.” Devlin's pulse raced as his eyes continued to snap around the club in search of Abel. “Where is he? And don't tell me he isn't here, because I saw him come in with you.”
“So now you've resorted to staking out the place?” Even knowing the potential danger Devlin posed, Cole couldn't help but like the man—and admire his loyalty to his heart, and Abel. He was fighting for the boy the best way he knew how.
