The Darker Side of Trey Grey

by Tara Spears

  As my foot stepped from the crumbly asphalt onto the concrete sidewalk, a car pulled around the corner and didn’t stop until it reached my ally. I changed course, and followed the white Mercedes. Molly. She must have been watching Hoppers arrest.

  I opened the rear door. “Molly, darling—”

  “Get the fuck in here and close the door before they see the damn light.”

  “Nice to see you too. They won’t be back for an hour.” I slid in and closed the door.

  She shuffled over the seat and right onto my lap, sliding her hands under my shirt. She knew how much I disliked cold hands and her’s were pleasantly warm. As we traveled through our mostly unfaltering routine, an odd melancholy settled over me. The only thing that ever changed with her was position. She either rode me or I rode her, depending on her mood.

  She was needy tonight so her ass rode me. She was a total anal slut while her stodgy husband was a two-position fuck, and only once a month. He allowed her some sexual freedom, and in payment, she played the perfect executive wife. I smiled when she swore colorfully as my thumb brought her to climax. She fell against my chest, and I nosed her neck, enjoying the Giorgio that was always there.

  “I’ll miss your scent,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around her.

  She lifted her head off my shoulder. “What?”

  “I’m retiring, Molly.”

  “When were you planning on telling me?”

  “I just did.” I chuckled.

  She smacked my chest. “Bastard. Freddie?”

  “No, although I do like your brother.” I paused, loosening my hold as she leaned back to look at me. “I made a promise,” I told her.

  Her finger traced my cheekbone. “I’ll miss you.”

  I nodded, pulling her against me. “I know.” I swallowed. “Three weeks, Molly, then I’m gone.”

  She shook her head, her fiery hair grazing across my cheek. “No, I won’t come back.” She pushed herself up, taking my face in her hands. She pressed her lips to mine then climbed off me, clambering ungracefully into the front seat, as I cleaned up.

  I had my hips lifted so I could zip my jeans when she leaned back, sliding my pay into the front pocket. She retrieved her panties from the floor and tossed them over her shoulder then sighed.

  She tipped her head at me. “Take care of yourself.”

  I smiled at her. “You too. Stay away from the streets.” I opened the door and stepped out. She’d been a loyal client for two years and it was hard to watch her drive off one last time.

  My Zippo flashed against the end of my cigarette and I drew in the acrid smoke, savoring it, before I headed back to my corner. The sounds of squealing tires and honking horns brought my head up. “Oh shit.” The camo Hummer peeled backwards, and all but disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke. Dirk the jerk. I smiled despite myself. It’s a party now. I shook my head and sighed.

  He ground a gear on his army issue Hummer as he turned towards me. Dirk really wasn’t a jerk. He was a retired WWE wrestler, who had suffered a blow or two too many to his cranium. He was loud, rough, and fuckin’ huge. I used to go home and cry after he screwed me. Willie thought it was hilarious. Me not so much, but I was used to him now.

  For a long time I thought Dirk was a pedophile, but no, he just liked pretty small things he could pick up with one hand. He even tried to kidnap me once, only I was eighteen at the time so it wouldn’t have technically been kidnapping. He just tossed me in his Hummer and drove off. I told him what he was doing was illegal, and that he would go to jail. He had stammered out that he just wanted to take care of me. He couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t let him. He still didn’t.

  The Hummer lurched to a halt, and I braced when I heard the door slam shut. Dirk rammed into me, hoisting me up as he licked my neck, making me cringe a little.

  “Oh little one, I missed you.” He dropped me, and I grabbed his leather vest to keep from tumbling backwards. “Dude, I had the most amazing two months with this cute doll-of-a-blond. Oh man, the little guy was amazing.” He had a hold of his tangled graying mane of hair and was tugging at it aggressively.

  “What happened?” I asked, taking a step back to avoid his flailing elbows. This was the other thing about Dirk. He always had to tell me about his sexual escapades.

  “Oh, dude, he was a freaking nympho. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Man I loved him.” Dirk kept yanking at his long hair and pacing in a jerky circle.

  “Did you scare him?”

  He stopped, letting his hair go, and throwing his hands into the air. “He said I did.”

  “Yeah? Well, you used to scare the shit out of me too.”

  “I don’t scare you anymore?” His dark eyes rounded comically.

  I raised my eyebrows at him and smirked. “Not as much. You have to learn to take care of your toys, big guy. I’ve told you that before.” I shot him a reprimanding look.

  His face fell as he scuffed his huge boot on the ground.

  “Did you just come down here for relationship advice?” I asked, trying not to laugh at his wounded appearance.

  He shook his head quickly. “No.”

  I didn’t tell Dirk I was retiring for fear he would try to take me home again. He fucked me with his steroid-altered, battering ram of a cock, and then I let him coddle me like a doll before I sent him on his way. I leaned against the wall of the Laundromat, hidden in the shadows, until my ass recovered. I kept clenching it and wriggling around while I puffed on a smoke. By the time I reached the filter, I had worked most of the soreness away. I would miss most of my regulars, but Dirk, not so much.

  * * * * *

  I headed home, having finished the evening safely stowed from the cops in frick and frack’s mini van. Their real names were Joe and Jeff, but the latter fit them. They were an energetic, pot smoking, couple of giggling gay men that had been together for at least twenty years. They had a true love of threesomes, and rather than cruise the bars and be disappointed, they came to me because I was a professional. It was actually because I could fuck them both without “IT” wilting, and they found that amazing.

  They always took an hour or more, but it was an easy six-hundred. They liked to build up to as climactic an end as they could. So it was some sucking, lurid talking, more sucking, more talking, fucking, talking, more fucking, and then they were done.

  Like Justin and I, there wasn’t a top or bottom in their relationship. They cherished each other as individuals. Even now, a person could tell they were still in love, not to mention lust, with each other. I saw them differently tonight. What they had was rare and beautiful, and stayed with me all the way back to my dorm room.

  Before I stepped into the shower I texted Justin to let him know I missed him and I was on my way.

  He didn’t text me back.

  The whole drive over was a fast blur. I knew in my gut he was okay, but my mind conjured up all kinds of heinous things like; overdose, drowning in his tub, cutting until he bled out, drinking his paint thinner. Not to mention whether he would even allow me in the house. Damn, I wish I had Kelly’s number.

  A drizzle had begun to fall while I was in the shower. It became a sideways deluge as kitten and I rocketed across the bridge. What if he decided I was too much trouble? I couldn’t blame him if he did. I was pretty high maintenance and not in a humorous way. I shifted to fourth as I glided kitten into traffic on I-405.

  I slammed her steering wheel, downshifting to third. You would think people who lived in Seattle would know how to drive in the rain. But they didn’t. Instead we all got to crawl along at forty MPH, on the freeway for God’s sake, at one in the morning.

  I turned on the stereo and Queen blasted through the speakers. “No.” I hit the changer; AC/DC’s Back in Black album, “No.”; Nirvana, “No.” I hit the brakes hard, sending kitten skidding. I blared her horn at the idiot who dove in front of me then had the audacity to slow down. He waved in his rearview mirror at me.

  “Fucker.” I
showed him my pretty finger then switched to the radio, hitting the presets until Seether’s growly tone filled the interior.

  A few minutes later I bumped down the drive, relieved to see Kelly’s white Honda, and the house looking peaceful. I parked next to Fawkes, grabbed my bag, and ran through the rain to the door. I lifted my fist up to knock. What the hell am I doing? I practically lived here, or at least that was the consensus until last night. I walked in and found Kelly curled up on the couch with popcorn and a movie. She looked up at me, smiled, and then cringed.

  “He’s sleeping. He kinda wrecked himself.” She crammed a handful of popcorn in her mouth, chewing noisily, while giving me a sympathetic look.

  “What do you mean by wrecked himself?”

  She swallowed as she set the popcorn bowl on the floor. “He took a sleeping pill, some alcohol, and an extra Thorazine. He’ll be out for hours.”

  I nodded as I chewed on my lip. “How is he?” I asked, as I felt my face screw into a grimace.

  “Hurt, pissed. I think more hurt than anything. He’s upset you didn’t call, feels you betrayed him, aren’t taking him seriously, the relationship seriously, don’t really care about him, there was more but I can’t remember it.”

  I held up a hand. “I get it.” I stared down the hall and could see a soft glow emanating from the bedroom. I glanced back at Kelly, and she gave me an encouraging look.

  “I’ll see you in the morning. I hope.”

  “You’ll work it out. Night, Trey.” She picked the popcorn bowl back up as I made my way to Justin.

  He was sprawled across the bed on his stomach, wearing a pair of black boxers, and drooling on his pillow. He’d shoved all the covers off the end of the bed. I let a small hopeful smile escape when I saw the cuff around his wrist. I wanted to touch him, but I didn’t feel I had any right too.

  Instead, I set my bag down, stripped, took a piss, reclaimed the covers, and climbed in bed. I found the other handcuff wedged between the pillows, and clicked it on. I closed my eyes happy to be home, even if tentatively at the moment.

  I woke in the darkness screaming at Willie, and Justin remained comatose. I wiped my eyes, huddled up to his side, and managed to fall back to sleep almost immediately. I didn’t wake again until after ten, and found Justin still out, snoring. I wondered if he ever wet the bed when in a drug induced stupor.

  I could smell coffee, which meant Kelly was awake, and now I was wide-eyed too. I spotted the keys on Justin’s nightstand. I managed to lean over him and retrieve them with no more than a snort from Justin before he was snoring again. I paused over him for a moment, breathing him in. He smelled a little rutty right now, and I found the rather masculine scent unexpectedly arousing. Needless to say so did “IT.” I sighed as I resisted the urge, yet again, to touch him.

  * * * * *

  Justin finally roused at one thirty in the afternoon. Kelly and I had cleaned the house in preparation for the party then I had helped her unload some of her belongings from her car while Justin slept. We were just finishing up lunch when we heard the grumbling coming down the hall.

  I glanced up as he entered the kitchen. Unsure of what his mood might be I stayed seated and allowed him the first move. He was pale, his skin moist, and he looked like crap. His eyes arrested me for a second. They were brittle and dark. He was obviously still pissed at me.

  He didn’t say a word as he walked behind me, seized a handful of my hair, and wrenched my head back. I could smell the chemical sweat as his body tried to leach out the excess toxins he had put into it.

  “You’re not supposed to let yourself off your leash.” He shoved my head roughly forward. Was he ticked because I had left the bed this morning?

  “I’m not a dog, Justin. Besides, you were out and I figured you needed the sleep.”

  “Definitely not a dog. They’re more loyal.”

  Ouch. The laundry room door slammed shut, then the sounds of coughing and gagging filtered through. I looked at the door concerned, then to Kelly questioningly.

  She glared at the door. “He’s okay, just stupid. Alcohol, an empty stomach, and his pills don’t mix well. He usually throws up a few times then he’s fine.”

  I nodded, however the distress over what he was doing to himself stuck with me. He came out of the bathroom, filled a glass with water, and then left without a word. I followed him. He closed the bedroom door in my face, and I heard the lock click.

  “Justin, come on. Talk to me, yell at me, hit me... just... hell.” I leaned my head on the door. I didn’t know what to say to him. I only knew I didn’t like him mad at me, and I didn’t like seeing his manic side in control.

  “I don’t want to talk right now. I’m going back to bed. Just... just leave me alone.”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  When he didn’t answer my body began sagging towards the floor. I had done the one thing he asked me never to do, and I was terrified he wasn’t going to forgive me.

  “No,” he finally yelled.

  Thank God. I sank the rest of the way down the door. I sat rumpled on the floor for a long time, trembling, and I wasn’t sure why.

  Justin slept the rest of the afternoon, or at least I assumed he did. I kept myself busy helping Kelly move anything that could be easily broken into, what was now, her room. Like the television, stereo, and even the big mirror above the sofa. While moving the mirror I remembered I hadn’t seen it that first night, and how that fateful night seemed a lifetime ago, rather than the month it actually was.

  Ernie, the tight wrestler type I had chatted with the night I met Justin, arrived first with the alcohol, and a fair amount of pot compliments of his brother.

  “Who pays for all this?” I set the case I was carrying on the kitchen floor.

  “Everyone pays twenty bucks.” Ernie tore a box open then glanced leeringly at me.

  I laughed. “Keep dreaming, buddy. I’ll pay the twenty bucks.”

  He feigned being stabbed through the heart then shrugged and set to unloading the bottles. “It’s always worth a try.”

  “True, I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “So, it is true,” he stated, shaking his head softly. “I’ve known Justin for over a year and the dude doesn’t date. He doesn’t even let anyone stay the night... I heard once he had been hurt pretty badly, I don’t know if that’s just a rumor. But I know I tried for months.” He shook his head. “I wonder what he found in you.” He wrinkled his nose right before his eyes widened. “No offense, man, I mean, I’d do you in a heartbeat.” He grinned quickly.

  I chuckled. “None taken. I know I’m hot. What can I say, it’s a curse.” We both laughed and finished setting up the bar while Kelly, already in a flowing burgundy satin robe, welcomed the first members. I walked back to the bedroom, and found the door still locked. However, I could hear the shower running, so at least I knew Justin was up.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I retrieved a bottle of Ciroc then leaned against the wall near the kitchen as I watched people milling around and catching up with each other. Kelly had filled me in on the logistics of the club as we cleaned earlier. Justin had founded it three years ago after finding out the sex club he had joined didn’t exactly welcome gays with open arms, regardless of what they said. He didn’t like the options available, and discovered there were others equally unhappy with the scene.

  It had started small with only fifteen members, but now they were over a hundred and fifty strong. About a third of the members came to any given party. There were a dozen or so regulars, while the remaining attendants consisted of a menagerie of revolving members. It was an impressively organized club, with mandatory health testing and membership fees, which ultimately ended up in Justin’s pocket since he provided the location and held a huge weekend fuckfest the end of July.

  My eyes caught on a very cute boy slinking towards me and trying to act casual. He was failing miserably. As he pretended to wander past, I reached out and ruffled his black hair.<
br />
  “Garret, what are you up to?”

  He grinned and blushed furiously, sending his eyes right to the floor. I hadn’t figured out his ethnicity yet; Italian, Spanish, Native American? I couldn’t be sure. His unusual green and gold eyes threw me. He settled nervously next to me then sidled over until our arms touched.

  “You know I’m taken.” Then I muttered under my breath, “If he ever gets his ass out here.”

  “I know. Justin told me you were moving in.” Garret’s forehead wrinkled as he tugged on his pants legs, his eyes remaining glued to his bare feet. God, his feet were even smaller than mine. What Dirk wouldn’t do to get his hands on little Garret.

  I smirked. “He did, did he? Well, that was the plan.” I glanced over at him and was met with a totally expectant puppy dog look. I rolled onto my shoulder to face him, and he bowed his head again.

  “You really like him don’t you?” I hadn’t missed him staring longingly at Justin when he was here cleaning after the last party.

  “I could love you too, sir.” He wrapped two fingers around my hand hanging next to the wall. “I’m fully trained,” he added hopefully. I didn’t doubt that one bit, maybe too well trained with his overtly shy demeanor.

  “Garret, I couldn’t do that.”

  His head whipped up, his chin quivering. I took his small hand in mine and squeezed it.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I was owned once, and I couldn’t ever own anyone. Do you understand?”

  He nodded slowly then stretched up and kissed my cheek. Jesus, he was a sweet boy.

  “Garret, what are you doing with this group?”

  He smiled coyly while averting his eyes. “I’m too shy for the bars, and I really like sex, sir.”

  No one could say he wasn’t honest. “Then go find yourself a partner.” I laid my hand on his round ass and pushed him off. He grinned back at me then scurried off towards a brutish hairy guy almost twice his size. The dirty-blond noticed him and pointed to his fly making Garret squeal with glee. I chuckled before headed into the kitchen. If I were more into D/s play, Garret might just turn me on. The boy was damn cute.