Carter (Mayfair Model Series Book 2)

by Claire Castle

  For some reason, even if he ignored me, I didn’t want to let this thin line of connection break. Then Marshall invited us over, and I jumped at the chance after hearing Jamie would go.

  Now we sat in Marshall’s and I leaned back on the couch, giving Stuart a hard time about how he’d gotten so burnt.

  “Who would have guessed?” he told us all, recounting how it was the sun’s fault and not possibly his own for staying in it too long.

  I stretched my legs out and tried to zone out when they started talking about Jamieson’s win.

  Fuck, why did he have to lick his lips and look so delectable.

  Marshall elbowed me. “Don’t be a sore-ass loser now,” he cajoled.

  “Hey, if my ass was sore, I’d be enjoying someone’s company a lot more than this,” I said as everyone laughed at me.

  Stuart pulled out some game he wanted us all to play, and I seriously wondered why I’d come here and not gone somewhere to talk to Jamie alone.

  But as I admired Jamieson’s ass while he bent over the counter to eat something, I knew the answer perfectly well.

  After a few drinks, he seemed to relax a little and even joked with me about losing. Well, in a roundabout way.

  “Thanks for not being a sore loser.” Jamie laughed and raised his glass to me. It was almost as if he was about to add something as he sat there looking smug as hell.

  I stomped off out of the room. Luckily I knew my way to Marshall’s spare room.

  Letting out a sigh, I paced back and forth in front of the bed and shoved my hands in my shorts. I couldn’t believe he’d gotten under my skin like this. I wanted to talk to him and I’d been so sure that once that occurred, we’d each continue with our lives. I’d tell him my version of the story of what happened before and see where that left us.

  I sat on the bed and thought how after seeing Jamie and spending time with him, I was so drawn to him. Just being in Jamie’s vicinity made me feel better, not that I’d let him see that. Until now, I thought I’d done a good enough job.

  The door opened and I somehow knew it was Marshall even before I cracked an eyelid open.

  He came over and sat next to me, though I didn’t move much. When I felt him tap my knee, I sat up straighter. I knew I’d been in the wrong to storm off, but fuck. “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice didn’t sound like usual as if he was unsure.

  “Not really.” I sighed. “Sorry. Really, I didn’t mean to ruin the night. I’ll be good. Let’s go back out and have a good night.” I quickly changed my demeanour, plastering a fake smile on my face. I was an idiot and wasn’t going to bring Marshall into all of this. Jamieson was pissing me off, but that wasn’t his nor Stuart’s fault.

  I strode out and he took hold of my wrist. “You don’t have to do this. They’ll understand. We all do.”

  “Thanks, but I’m really okay.” I continued out to the living room, barely giving Jamie a glance.

  9

  JAMIESON

  I was in Montreal after a long-haul flight from Manchester via Toronto, sitting at the hotel bar and chatting to the other flight attendants. Stuart told me last week, in a round-about way, he’d heard from Marshall how Carter really wanted the opportunity to talk to me. I wasn’t sure how much he knew, but I was sure it wasn’t the full story.

  I laughed and winked at the guy dancing near us. Any other night, I’d have him up to my hotel room by now or in a dark corner for a quick fuck. Why was I even second-guessing it? Although, as I asked myself the question, I knew the answer. Carter.

  His face came vividly to mind—how he’d changed since I last saw him and yet stayed the same. His body moved the same, his mannerisms, how he smiled. Sure, his hair had changed. And hadn’t he got taller? No, that was ridiculous.

  I almost phoned Damien, though I knew it was the middle of the night. Not that that meant anything. Even though he was more Stuart’s friend, I felt he was mine too. He always knew what to say. Damien’d taken me under his wing, as he had Stuart, almost like a mother figure to us.

  I waved to the other flight attendants and left to go to my room. Some looked in shock as usually I’d be the last to leave. “Night, guys. Got to make a phone call.” I was only slightly lying.

  I sent a text to him instead, and figured if he was sleeping, I’d attempt to do the same. He was awake all hours though, so I expected I’d hear.

  “Jamieson, want to join me? Video chat?” There was a muffled laugh in the background. “Join us. Francois saw your pic on my phone and he’s interested.”

  “This was a bad idea. Enjoy your night.” And I hit End on the call. I knew I’d never sleep. Opening my bag, I found a People magazine I’d bought at the airport and flipped through some pages. It was mindless entertainment.

  Then my phone rang and I debated answering it. Knowing Damien though, he wouldn’t give up.

  “Jamieson, this better be important. I had a very hairy hottie in a compromising position and—”

  “I hung up.” Biting my lip, I knew that I wanted to talk and Damien was still was on the line. I could hear his breathing. “Look, I’m here in Montreal, right, and this hot guy winked at me, and I didn’t bring him up here.”

  “Pretend I’m sitting across from you, okay.” I closed my eyes and could visualize it. “Now take a deep breath and answer me this.” I did as he said. “Do you want to be with Carter?”

  “No,” I replied instantly. “I mean, I don’t know. Maybe? He was everything to me at one time. And I just don’t know. What if he leaves again?”

  I let that hang in the air between us and waited. Damien was a chatty mother hen, but also imparted perfect advice when required. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I know he means something to you, even if you aren’t fully admitting it to yourself. You need to talk to him. And not tiptoe around stuff like in York.”

  “I … I’m scared,” I whispered.

  “Of what. Talking to him?—or falling in love?”

  “I think I’ve always been.”

  “I know you haven’t told me the whole story, but tell me more about the history. Maybe it’ll not only help you to let it all out but also see where your head is at. I don’t like seeing you like this. Since I’ve met you, you’ve been the life of the party, the jokester, happy and carefree. This … this, to have this much effect on you, he must mean a lot. And you either need to get him out of your system and move on or take a leap and see where this takes you. You won’t know if you don’t try. Look at Marshall and Stuart now.”

  Not sure whether I was trying to convince Damien or myself, my thoughts drifted back as I went on to tell him how I found out that Carter was back in the UK all those years ago.

  I’d gotten home after a long day at college. I couldn’t wait to be done with all the training and get to the real job. Flying anywhere right now would feel good. There were people surrounding me all the time and yet I was lonely. I’d made plenty of jokes while at school in an attempt to try and fit in, but maybe that was the problem. People just saw me as someone who didn’t take anything too seriously—like the class clown.

  I liked to see people happy but maybe that was because I was shoving my own feelings so far into a dark corner in hopes they’d be forgotten. Carter had stopped contacting me and it made me sad. But how many times could I email and sound pathetic.

  One day while studying in our dorm room, I’d told my roommate about Carter and he laughed and had said young love was just that—young love. It meant nothing. Maybe it was true but I still dreamed of us being together.

  In need of a distraction, I locked myself in my room one night and logged on to my British Boyz porn subscription. There had been one couple who was so fucking hot, I could watch them for hours. I pulled my sweatpants down and caressed my cock. Pressing Play on the video, I watched as the larger guy licked the smaller guy’s ass. He held his hips as his balls hovered over his face. I rubbed my cock faster and squeezed.

  I was at m
y computer desk but grabbed the laptop and threw it on my bed. Much more comfortable. I could spread my legs open.

  As I watched, my breathing became heavier, and closing my eyes for a brief moment as I heard them performing, Carter flashed across my vision. I could see him in a state of ecstasy, coming with me. I squeezed my cock and opened my eyes, continuing to watch the guys in the video and come sprayed all over my abs.

  I lay back, gasping. Before I could hit Stop, another video popped up, one in which I’d never seen before. I sat up quicker than I’d meant to and stared at the screen after I’d just been thinking of Carter, who I hadn’t seen in a few years.

  No, it couldn’t be, but there it was. A hot, sexy man with his cock out, palming it. I couldn’t stop watching as he licked his lips. He was on a red velvet-looking blanket and fully enjoying himself with a smirk on his face as he moved the foreskin down over his mushroom head. He fell onto his back and his hole and balls were on full display.

  I turned the volume up, even with the risk of someone hearing in the hallway, and felt myself getting hard as I heard his moans and gasps. He looked more muscular than I’d remembered. Not overly, but had grown out of his younger lankiness.

  Before my eyes, I watched him lean forward to switch off the camera. And in that moment before the screen went blank, I saw something glitter around his neck in the distinct form of a Disney castle, and I knew it was him. He was back. Back in the United Kingdom, London, and he hadn’t thought to find me. To tell me.

  Damien cleared his throat. I’d almost forgotten he was there. He murmured some reassuring words and that helped soothe me.

  “And then, I did something royally stupid.”

  “You fucked your way through London.” Damien joked. “That’s not so bad.” There was rustling as if he moved positions.

  “No, that was the fun part. Something much worse.”

  10

  CARTER

  “Looking wonderful, Mr. Easton.” I stood to greet Marshall as he entered the Mayfair offices. His blue V-neck sweater highlighted his blue eyes. The smile he gave radiated. What a change Stuart had made in him.

  I gave him a hug and saw he had someone younger than us by a few years with him.

  “This is Rutledge,” Marshall said, and pointed to the man beside him. “I did the LGBTQ T-shirt campaign with him a few months ago.”

  “Nice to meet you. What brings you here?”

  “I’ve, ah, got a contract here with Mayfair.” He glanced at Marshall for reassurance. “They want me to be the face of the campaign. With you, I think.” His American accent was unusual to hear.

  Marshall patted him on the back and then did the same to me. “Yes, guys, I’m going to try my hand behind the camera for this one. I hope I can do you proud. Brenna and the others should be along soon.”

  We all sat at the conference-room table and I handed them each a bottle of water. As everyone else poured in, I waited to hear the details of the next campaign. Since Marshall’s coming out, it had forged a path for others.

  Who I was sleeping with—or fucking—was no one’s business, and I never brought it up at modelling jobs. Sure, Marshall knew, but like him, I still worked with women in the swimsuit and cologne ads.

  Not that I really planned to shout anything from the rooftops now. But he and Stuart showed that everyone could be out and themselves. As did this campaign. I was excited to work with Marshall behind the camera too. He still did modelling, but I knew he didn’t want to travel so much and leave Stuart, Jess, and Lola.

  As I tried to intently pay attention, Marshall elbowed me at some point. Turning to him, I smiled and then listened some more. Details of the campaign did sound exciting. Various gay, bi, and lesbian models, along with all of us at Mayfair, would get to pose in a rainbow sidewalk with the shirts on. Just then, Marshall abruptly threw something at me. “Those are the shirts. What do you think?”

  They had an abstract heart shape in rainbow colours. The writing in white said “Be your true self.” On the shirtsleeve was the logo of the Humankind League—where all the proceeds would go.

  “Fantastic! Really neat.”

  At the end of the meeting, I hugged everyone as they left and spoke to Brenna. She’d come with me to my next trip to New York.

  Outside on the street, there was some drizzly rain, and as I pulled up the hood on my denim jacket, I’d wished I had brought an umbrella. I shivered and my rubbed my crossed arms to keep them warm.

  Marshall tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to look at him. “Oh, hey, I thought you’d gone already.”

  “Just checking to make sure you’re okay.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Just have stuff on my mind. But I’m good. How are you and Stuart?”

  “Good. We’re gonna go to a club tonight where Stuart’s friend works. Do you want to join us? It’s called The Queen of Hearts.”

  I pushed my hands in the back of my jeans. I didn’t have to leave for my next job until the day after tomorrow. “Sure, why not. Text me the time.” I could probably do with a night out. Maybe it was time to find a willing body, forget about Jamieson, and leave our past in the past. Hell, I hadn’t even seen him in a few weeks. Why was I letting him get in the way of what I wanted to do? I couldn’t decide if I was trying to convince myself or someone else.

  I waved goodbye to Marshall and jumped in a taxi to go home. Back home at my loft, I stretched out on the couch, picked up my iPad, and checked some emails and my upcoming schedule. I’d have the next day and a half off, and then I’d be away for almost a month.

  Fuck it! Sitting up suddenly, I decided I needed to get it out of my system. Jamieson. Us. Lack of us. Whatever.

  Punching my iPhone’s screen didn’t nearly have the same effect as years ago with a real phone. The flat glass screen took my finger’s abuse like it was nothing. The phone rang and finally Marshall answered, sounding breathless.

  “Ah, Carter?” he asked. “We’re meeting later, right. Is everything okay?”

  Shit, I’d interrupted. Awkward. I stood up and cleared my throat. “Yeah, I just … if Stuart’s okay with it, I need Jamieson’s address. I need to clear the air once and for …” I rambled on and when I looked at the screen, Marshall’d hung up. What the fuck.

  My phone beeped in my hand. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

  Stuart: If it means you two will sort out your differences. 1414 Lealeigh Avenue. See you later.

  Wow, I really had interrupted them. I could imagine Marshall getting home and … No, no, I wasn’t going there.

  I ran down my front steps and found a taxi around the corner before I could talk myself out of it. I wanted this over with and we could both move on with our lives. Then I could go back to my old life. As Marshall reminded me, I had “a willing body in every city I visited.” I wanted that, right?

  Giving the taxi driver the address, I glanced out at the passing buildings. I wasn’t familiar with the area we were heading. Not long later, we’d arrived. I paid the driver and as I stepped out on the curb, I realized I didn’t even know if he was home.

  Oh well, I could wait.

  The building was older and had a certain charm about it. And I knew Stuart wasn’t around. I laughed to myself. No, he was busy. It was like they wanted rid of me and I wasn’t even there. Well, could I blame them? They had the ultimate relationship. I quickly forgot that line of thinking. Why was I even thinking of relationships? I sighed. I’d be terrible at it. Sure, I could do the small talk needed at parties and events, but that was all for show.

  I hit the buzzer before I lost my nerve. Rubbing my hands on my pants, I, then, pushed my hands through my hair nervously. This couldn’t hang over me for another month.

  I thought back to the time I’d seen Jamieson, years before the disastrous night a few weeks ago at Marshall’s mum’s fundraising event …

  Xavier, the owner of the porn studio, had come over and tried to kiss me roughly. I’d pushed him away, denying his unwanted advanc
es. It had become growingly and increasingly uncomfortable, but he was always sneaky about it—approaching me when no one else was around.

  Luckily, Jordan, one of the other performers had walked in, saving me as he and I had been slated to do a scene shortly. We’d have a few hours together ahead of time to get to know each other better and the director would come in and explain the scene.

  He was handsome even if a bit too muscly for my liking. Pulling Jordan to me, I kissed him chastely. There was no passion, no excitement. I was used to this now. Not long ago I moved from solo shows to working with other performers.

  It went well for awhile, but lately it’d become boring. There was no other word for it. I didn’t hate it or anything, but it had just become more routine. In. Out. Shake it all about. I laughed to myself as Jordan brushed my cock, asking what was so funny.

  I couldn’t very well tell him this felt about as exciting as watching laundry dry. And I had slimy Xavier getting too close for comfort. I shook my head and chose to distract him by pinching his nipple. As I could have predicted, he moaned on cue. I let out my own moan, pretending he turned me on.

  We stood in the right places for lighting and popped some pills. Showtime had arrived. I rubbed my cock and closed my eyes, throwing my mind back to something special. I had to really dig deep because recalling quick fucks and blow jobs didn’t help. And it wasn’t as if being in the moment in the porn studio was enough. It wasn’t. If I stuck to that, it’d come across to the audience as stilted or forced.

  I didn’t even realize it, but one time when I was being pounded into a mattress from behind, with the camera man zoomed in on my face, I’d had a vivid vision of Jamieson being there with me. I nudged my hips in the air and grabbed my cock.

  Emotion poured out of me and I gasped, coming harder than I ever had in the studio. My breathing faltered, and gasping, I had to control myself from yelling out his name. It felt beautiful and raw and real.