Give Yourself Away
Page 17
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Caleb licked and nibbled and kissed his way up from March’s feet. He lingered on his toes and dragged his mouth away before March decided he had a foot fetish. Caleb just found bare feet sexy.
“What happened here?” Caleb asked and trailed his tongue down a scar on March’s shin.
“Surfboard.”
“And here?” On his knee.
“Dry stone wall.”
Caleb licked a white line on his thigh. “This one?”
“My fight with a T. rex. I won.”
Caleb laughed. He bypassed March’s groin and started at his fingers. “This?” He let his tongue drift along a narrow scar running across his wrist.
“Enough,” March said and pulled Caleb up until they lay facing each other. “I want to do something to you.”
“Define ‘something’.”
That scar on March’s wrist… Caleb straddled March’s body, took hold of his wrists and spread his arms. “How did you get that scar?”
“I’ve forgotten.” March was staring at Caleb’s cock.
Caleb shifted his hips and angled his body so that his butt cheeks caressed March’s dick. Then he squeezed.
“Tell me what you want to do,” Caleb said.
“Wh-what?” March groaned and rocked his pelvis to rub himself against Caleb.
Caleb leaned over and kissed him, still sliding on March’s cock. “This is better with lube.”
“It feels pretty fantastic without. Oh God. Bedside cabinet. There’s been a miracle.”
“Don’t move.” Caleb leaned over, knowing his cock was a whisper away from March’s lips, and pulled open the drawer. “A random selection of coins, the menu for a Chinese takeaway, a tangle of earphones, two condoms past their sell-by date…oh, and a magazine called Hard Boys 4U. I wonder what that’s about.”
“There is not.” March reared up, accidently brushed his cheek against Caleb’s cock, jerked away and then lay back.
Caleb chuckled and held up a tub of Vaseline. “Your miracle? Arms back where they were.”
When March did as he was told, a thrill of pleasure warmed Caleb’s gut. He scooped a small amount of the pale grease onto his finger and put the lid on the tub before he came up on his knees and rubbed the lubricant over his hands. He reached behind to slide his fingers in the seam of his own butt and wrapped his other hand around March’s cock.
“What are you doing behind you that I can’t see?” March croaked.
“Giving you the finger. What do you think?”
March scowled.
“My hands are all sticky.” Caleb wiped them on March’s chest but the protest died on March’s lips as Caleb lowered himself and began to rock against March’s dick, letting it glide through the slick channel of his backside and squeezing his butt cheeks.
March reacted at once, groaning and gasping, and desire coiled low in Caleb’s stomach, his heart rate increasing.
“Can I touch you? Christ.” March’s eyes were glazed. He kept licking his lips.
“Soon.” Caleb wanted March desperate to touch him, wanted him to do it without thinking, without pulling back. Wanted March to want him as much as he wanted March.
He looked down at March’s cock as he rubbed himself against him, watching it appearing and disappearing between his thighs, giving a delicious scrape to his balls as his own cock bounced with excitement.
Caleb hadn’t gone bareback since he’d escaped. He’d had himself checked. He’d gone to three different places just to make sure because, once he read about what could have happened, he thought there was no way he could have escaped infection. But he had.
Only, now, he found himself wanting to feel March inside him, wanting March to come inside him. March’s cock swelled in Caleb’s hand and March gave a quiet groan. March moved his hands to Caleb’s hips and dragged him down harder on his shaft, their balls slapping together.
“Christ. I’m going to come again,” March moaned.
He wasn’t the only one. Caleb squeezed his muscles and wrapped his fingers around his own cock, letting his palm drift over the tip before he dragged his fist down. The breath stuttered in his chest as March bucked beneath him and exploded, shooting come over his own belly. Caleb followed, his body spasming, light and heat exploding behind his eyes.
March pulled him down, ate at him in a greedy kiss, their come gluing them together.
“Oh fuck,” March grunted. “I feel like a teenager but if I come again, I think it’ll kill me.”
Caleb pushed himself up. “So what was the Vaseline in there for? Makeup removal?”
March growled. Caleb loved his growl.
“Diaper rash?” Caleb asked.
“Be very careful. It’s for my hands when I’ve been rock climbing. The chalk dries them out. Vaseline hydrates them.”
“Phew. I was worried that joke I made earlier about piles—”
March roared and Caleb leaped off the bed. “I get first go in the bathroom, right?”
“We can use it together.”
Caleb faltered. “No. My back.”
March fell back against the mattress. “Fine. You go first.”
March woke with a start, reached for Caleb and found an empty bed. He groaned as he sat up because he ached, but in a good way. He began to reach for the light, then remembered and drew back his hand.
“Caleb?”
There was no answer and no sound from the bathroom, so March flicked on the bedside light. Caleb’s clothes were gone but there was a note on the pillow.
Gone to work. Didn’t want to wake you. Last night was fun. Caleb.
March wished he had woken him because he had to go to work too. He couldn’t believe how much lighter he felt, as if he’d been carrying something heavy around with him and finally put it down. And with that thought guilt surged back.
He clenched his fists. It wasn’t wrong to want Caleb. It didn’t mean March had forgotten what happened all those years ago and the way he’d felt, but Caleb had touched a place inside him that he’d thought was dead, and brought it to life. March had fucked around over what he wanted for long enough, he’d ached with sadness for long enough. He’d never forget, but he had to move forward.
Why had he fought this for so long? Wasted all this time? Hurt Annabel? He felt an idiot now. Caleb, too, likely thought he was an idiot.
March showered, grabbed a bite to eat, shoved his cell and his pager in his pocket, picked up his briefcase and locked up. When he reached his car, he gave a short laugh. A single red rose had been tucked between the wiper and the windscreen. He took it back into the house and stuck it in a glass of water.
His good mood lasted all the way in to work and only weakened after he’d parked and was heading toward the Arts Department.
But the ground didn’t open up and swallow him. No one looked at him any differently, at least not until he reached the staff common room.
Andy came straight over and held up crossed fingers.
“I’m not a vampire,” March muttered.
“What the hell’s been happening? The rumor mill has gone wild. Why didn’t you call me after you were suspended?”
March poured himself a cup of coffee. “You know why I was suspended?”
“One of the students claimed you’d propositioned her. Now she’s retracted it. But what happened?”
March could feel ears swiveling as the buzz of conversation diminished.
What am I supposed to do? Just come out and say…I’m gay? March had thought everything would go back to normal without him having to say anything, but it quickly sank in that now mud had been thrown, the doubt over what he’d done remained, even though Jemima had withdrawn her complaint.
“I’m gay.” But March muttered it quietly, didn’t shout it from the rooftops. Then he was irritated by his c
owardice, though relieved he’d said it. Now he waited to see what Andy would say.
Andy didn’t say anything for a long moment, just gaped at him. “When the fuck did that happen?”
March shocked himself by laughing.
“I’m serious.” Andy caught his elbow and pulled him to the side of the room. “You were engaged, practically married, less than six months ago? How the hell can you be gay?”
“Do I really have to answer that?”
“Yes. Did it suddenly happen? Have you always known? What the fuck were you playing at?”
“It didn’t suddenly happen. Yes, I think I have always known, but there was stuff that made me repress it. And I have no idea what the fuck I was playing at.”
“Shit.” Andy blew out a long breath. “That changes everything.”
March stiffened. “Like what?”
“I have to look for a guy for you instead of a woman. Christ, how do I do that? Where do gay guys hang out?”
March relaxed again, knowing Andy was okay with it. “You don’t need to look.”
“You’ve found someone? That was quick. Where? How? Who? I’m only asking because you know Sonia will have me on the rack if I don’t have answers to give her. I might as well have all the details now.”
“His name is Caleb.” There was a swell of warmth in his gut when March said his name. “I pulled him from the sea on a lifeboat call-out. He’s a few years younger than me and he’s a carpenter. I’m telling you nothing else. And I don’t want you to tell anyone that I’m gay.” Coming out was something he had to do himself.
“Sonia will want you to bring him for dinner.”
“Not yet.”
Andy smiled. “It’s serious then?”
March nodded. “Yep. It’s serious.”
Caleb called at a shop on the way to work to pick up sandwiches, water and an apple for lunch. He needed to settle on a place to live but he didn’t want to sign for somewhere without seeing it. He’d have no time to go in the daylight until the weekend. Maybe he could manage until then. He thought of March’s bed and smiled, but Caleb still needed a place of his own.
He worked hard all morning building units for the TVs in two of the lodges. Keith let him use his circular saw, which saved Caleb time and effort, but he had to force himself to concentrate on what he was doing. If his mind kept wandering back to March and his luscious body, he’d end up with no fingers.
Last night had been great, apart from the episode on the beach and apart from Caleb’s tiny niggle of doubt over how fast this happened.
He was glad they hadn’t had full-on sex because he wanted that uncertainty gone before they did. Tonight then? Caleb smiled but it quickly slipped as his insecurity raised its ugly head. Did March want to go out with him, to have a relationship with him? Or did he just want to use him in order to come to terms with his sexuality? In other words, was March only interested in having sex with him?
Caleb worried that now March had stepped out of the closet, he was trying to make up for lost time. Except it wasn’t just that. How could Caleb know March wouldn’t be this way with any willing guy? Is it just that I’m convenient? Maybe he should take March to a club. Let him see what was available. March shouldn’t settle for the first guy he’d come out to. How would he know Caleb was the one?
I want to be the one.
Christ, do I have to spoil this before it’s even started? He already liked March a hell of a lot more than he’d ever liked Mike, and more than he’d liked Simon. Why was he already trying to back away?
Because he’s too good for me. I don’t deserve him. What would he think of me if he knew the truth? None of it was my fault but will he ever believe me?
Academic, because no way would Caleb tell him.
His hand slipped on the wood and a splinter went through a hole in his glove into his palm. Caleb broke off the exposed piece of wood, and eased the glove off so he could pull out the splinter. He should have changed the gloves once he’d seen that hole.
It wasn’t going to be so straightforward to ease the guy out of his heart, but for March’s sake, maybe he had to, or at least give him space to find himself and then hope March found him too.
When Caleb went to get his lunch out of the car, he saw a red rose tucked under one of his windscreen wipers. Panic shot through him before he convinced himself this was March’s work.
But if March had driven out here, why hadn’t he come in to see him? Would he really drive all this way and then go back without a word? Maybe…if he wanted to make a romantic gesture. And it was fine if March had left the flower.
Caleb took out his phone. He’d missed a call from March. He had his phone on Vibrate and hadn’t heard it above the sound of the saw. There was a message too and he opened it.
Thx 4 the rose. Whose garden did u nick it from? Want 2 come 4 dinner?
Caleb slumped against his car. Shit. The panic he’d suppressed surged back and his heart pounded. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He read the message again, in case he’d made a mistake, but he hadn’t. Whoever was after him now had March in his sights. What was he going to do? Hyperventilating wasn’t going to help, but Caleb could feel his chest tightening. The prelude to a panic attack. Count…breathe… He dragged himself back under control and called Victor.
“Hello, darling,” Victor said. “I’ve missed the sound of your voice.”
Caleb assumed he’d been forgiven, or Mike was pissing Victor off and Victor wanted to piss Mike off in turn.
“How’s the invalid?”
“I’m exhausted looking after him. Fetch this. Get that. Buy the steak from Costco and not Sainsbury’s. Put a different channel on the TV, as if his finger has fallen off. I’m his new slave. I’d forgotten how demanding he is. I’m a fool— Yes, yes, it’s Caleb asking how you are. He’s been worried sick. Go back to bed. I’ll bring you something to eat. Something big and juicy.” Victor laughed. “Right, the pest has gone now. Did I say how exhausted I am?”
Victor’s tone of voice led Caleb to suspect the guy was reveling in having Mike to take care of.
“Is he feeling better?”
“Since he insisted we watch him perform in his favorite movie Guy Play twice last night while he checked his equipment was still in working order, I think we can assume the answer is yes. And the good news is—so is mine.” Victor rolled his r’s as he purred.
Caleb made himself chuckle. He didn’t care what Mike did anymore and it was a relief. By cheating on him, Mike had done him a favor.
“Are you all right?” Victor asked. “Jamie called twice asking about you. Wondering if you were okay, where you were staying.”
“I’m fine. This is going to sound a crazy question,” Caleb said, mentally crossing his fingers, “but do the words ‘red rose’ mean anything?”
No point asking if either of them had sent the roses. They had no idea where Caleb was living in Lymton, though Caleb had mentioned the town lifeboat, but they didn’t know about March.
“Funnily enough, there was a red rose on the doorstep of Mike’s place when I went to get him some clothes before he left the hospital.”
Oh shit. Caleb dropped his phone and scrambled to pick it up.
“You still there?” Victor asked.
“Yep, sorry.”
“There was a card with it. It said ‘I’m the only one allowed to love you’. I thought you must have sent it. Though I didn’t know what you meant. You know Mike doesn’t do subtle. He needs everything spelled out. He thinks you want him back.”
“I didn’t send it. I’ve had one too. It was put on my car this morning.”
“Oh fuck.” Victor put two and two together, and quickly. “You think whoever stabbed him also left the roses and has his eye on you both?”
Caleb’s heart settled uncomfortably on his stomach. Set out like that, it was exactly what he t
hought. “Be careful, Victor. I don’t like this. I think the message was for me and Mike. Plus I haven’t told anyone where I’m working, but somehow this guy found out.”
“Should I tell the police? Are you going to?”
“They’d laugh in my face.” Caleb was torn. Once he’d opened that door, he’d give himself away, but if he didn’t speak to the police and anything happened to Mike or to Victor…or to March… He mentally groaned. “I’ve changed my mind. I think you should tell the police. Tell them I had a rose too and I’m worried.”
“Do you have a stalker?” Victor asked.
“I think I do.”
“Maybe I should take Mike away on a little vacation. Somewhere warm and sunny.”
“That’s a good idea. Can he fly?”
“If not, I’ll drive. You be careful, Caleb.”
“Yeah.”
Caleb had a lot of thinking to do. He left his lunch in the car. His appetite had gone.
Caleb erected flat-pack units all afternoon. He didn’t speak to the others or stop for a break, just plodded on while his brain went into overdrive.
Four years since he’d escaped from the house. Four years since he’d seen Liam’s body. If Liam was dead, he obviously hadn’t sent the rose to Simon, hadn’t been responsible for Simon’s death, hadn’t stabbed Mike, hadn’t sent a rose to Mike, to March or to him.
But if it wasn’t Liam, then who was it? It seemed so unlike Jasim and, anyway, Jasim had told him he’d never see him again. Had Caleb been stupid to believe that?
Which brought him full circle to Liam. Could Liam really be alive? If he was, why hadn’t he come after Caleb before? Why wait four years? What was the point of a cat-and-mouse game like this?
“I’m the only one allowed to love you.”
The roses were a threat. Simon dead, Mike almost dead and now March a target, and Caleb couldn’t tell him why without revealing everything. No question whether he’d want him then. But how can I not tell him?