Stay the Night

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Author: Parrish Scarlett

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A Total-E-Bound Publication


Stay the Night ISBN #978-0-85715-726-3 ©Copyright Scarlett Parrish 2011 Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright October 2011 Edited by Lisa Cox Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 1.


STAY THE NIGHT Scarlett Parrish


Kit Blackman's anti-social facade cracks when a new co-tenant moves into his house - and bed - but unless he lets Steven in where it matters, Kit will end up sleeping alone. Permanently. Kit Blackman is anti-social, insular and bad-tempered...and those are his good points. As well as an attitude problem, he's also got a how-will-we-pay-the-rent problem when one of his housemates breaks their third of the lease. If he wants to keep a roof over his head, he'll have to accept that Steven Kenton, a complete stranger, now shares that roof. Yes, the new housemate’s good for helping out with the bills but he also has the knack of putting Kit on edge with a few well-chosen words and lingering looks. Kit’s is-he-flirting-with-me uncertainty doesn’t last long; on his first night there, Steven makes his intentions more than clear. He wants Kit, and he knows the feeling’s mutual. It’s in Kit’s nature to push away any man who shows an interest in him, especially when they live together, but he can only push so many times before Steven decides he’d be better off finding somewhere else to stay the night.


Dedication

This book is for, and because of, Lisa the Enabler, without whom I would be a sweet and innocent little flower. Honest. (With a dishonourable mention for Tiffany Reisz, who elbowed her way onto my cast list.)

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Miller: The Miller Brewing Co. Formica: The Diller Corporation Ordnance Survey Map: Ordnance Survey Kleenex: Kimberly-Clark Worldwide, Inc. Supernatural: Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc. Migraleve: Pfizer Consumer Healthcare Imigran: GlaxoSmithKline Group Tipp-Ex: BIC Corporation


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Chapter One

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I was the only one standing and the only one with the balls not to come out with some congratulatory bullshit. I wasn’t going to lie about being happy for the guy who was leaving us all in the lurch just because his girlfriend had a goldmine in her pants. “Kit.” Gary widened his eyes and looked from me, to Ben and back again. “What? What?” Okay, so I probably hadn’t given Ben the reaction he’d hoped for when he’d announced his intention to break his third of the lease to move in with his other half, but it was no more than he’d deserved. How the hell we were going to make the rent now I didn’t know. The whole point of having three guys living together was so we could afford a roof over our heads and beer in the fridge and now we were losing one third of the budget. I grimaced and looked at the label on the bottle I clutched like my life depended on it. No more Miller, then. Supermarket own-brand crap from now on. Or paint stripper and aftershave if things get bad enough. “It’s good news. Right?” Gary looked at Gemma for backup. She didn’t live here, but visited often. And thank God, he didn’t seem as pussy-whipped as Ben obviously was. In his case the boss had instructed him to announce his imminent departure on his own, claiming she ‘had to work’ or something. Meanwhile, I was left standing in the kitchen staring at two housemates, one of said housemates’ girlfriends, and a prospective life of penury living on beans on toast and supermarket beer. “It’s good. It’s cool.” I couldn’t share Gary’s optimistic outlook. “What’s good about losing one third of the rent?” “Kit, for God’s sake.” Gemma had that look on her face only women could perfect. It must have been something she was born with. Ovaries, breasts and the ability to smile while disapproving with her eyes. “For Ben.” “Oh. Oh, right.” Fuck, Blackman. She’s a human being, not the devil. Don’t you dare shudder. I took another gulp of beer to fortify myself but the way she tapped her fingernails on the kitchen table made me jittery. “Good news for Ben. Of course.” It was easier just to agree with Gemma when she glared at me like that. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Look.” Ben eased his chair away from the table and leant back, probably much less anxious now he had Lady Macbeth’s overt support. “I realise this’ll put the pressure on you two guys, but—” “No, no, it won’t.” Gary waved away Ben’s concerns and shrugged. “Yes it will.” The three sitting at the Formica table—no way was it in any fit state to be called a dining table—turned their heads to look at me in such coordinated censure I almost laughed. Almost, but not quite. “What?” I shrugged. “It will. We’ll be down a third of the rent each month and that’ll leave us less money for…” Gemma lifted her eyebrows and I lowered the hand that held the beer bottle to my mouth. “…food. And beer.” My voice got quieter. “And…stuff. Look, anyway, these are valid concerns. I hate to be the only pragmatic one here, but bills have to be paid.” “Oh, you’ll get by,” Gemma said, her voice just a shade away from an outright snort or “Pfft”. “How would you know? You don’t even live here.” “I spend enough time here to—” “Yeah, ain’t that the truth?” I muttered. “Kit.” This time there was enough steel in Gary’s voice to make me think again. “Sorry.” I rolled my shoulders slowly, more to shrug off the guilt from being such a bad-tempered bastard than work out any stiffness or kink. I liked Gemma, but the bottom line was, she didn’t contribute to the Blackman-Lacey-Taylor household beyond whatever favours she privately showed Gary, and even if she did give me the glad-eye, her womanly wiles wouldn’t have worked on me. Actually, pretty soon it looked like being the Blackman–Lacey–Who-the-fuck-ever household. Not that that was an entirely unfeasible idea… “Hey, listen…” I murmured, turning my back and draining the bottle. First stop, the bin to bury the dead soldier. Second stop, the fridge, to get a refill before—“What the fuck?” I let the fridge door swing open and looked over my shoulder at Gary, Gemma and Ben. “What?” Ben sat up straight. “Something wrong?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“That was the last fucking bottle you gave me.” When I’d walked into the kitchen, he’d had it opened and ready. A peace offering before war broke out. “Um…yeah…?” “There’s no fucking beer left.” “Ah. Yeah, I…” “You polished off the last of it?” “Technically you did. I had the penultimate—” “Motherfucker. You’re welcome to move out now, you beer-stealing bastard.” “Kit. Your language is a bit…” Gary began, then swallowed nervously when I shot him a glance. “Fruity?” I suggested, daring him to say that about the only gay guy in the room. “Not in front of the lady, am I right?” “Her?” His laughter, though forced, went some way towards lightening the atmosphere. “Don’t make me… Anyway. You were saying…?” “I was?” Frowning, I looked back at the fridge and kicked it shut. “Fucker. Right, yeah. If the littlest hobo over here’s moving on, we better do something about it.” “A moving-out party?” Gemma grinned, defining the word ‘perky’. If I’d been a boobs man—as opposed to favouring pecs—I would have grabbed myself an eyeful. “Fuck no.” I shook my head. “I’m gonna put an ad in the paper to see if we can’t find someone to replace him.” “At least let my grave go cold, why don’t you?” Ben slapped a hand on the edge of the table, perhaps in anger. Perhaps because he was pissed off I wasn’t begging him to stay. I didn’t do that with ex-boyfriends—anymore—I sure as hell wasn’t doing it with exhousemates. “I’m sorry, dude—but, you know, gotta be pragmatic about these things.” “There’s that word again,” Gary muttered. “It’s true. If Ben’s hitting the road, we need to cover our asses.” I fucking wished. It’d been so long, if I got laid again any time this millennium I’d need a flashlight and an Ordnance Survey map to find my own prostate. “I mean, look out for ourselves. Right?” “Excuse me? Excuse me, hello? Am I invisible or something? Am I not even here?” Ben drummed his fingers rapidly on the tabletop and raised his eyebrows in a ‘go on, I’m waiting’ expression. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Pretty soon you won’t be so I’m not sure it makes much difference.” Gemma groaned and buried her face in her hands, resting both elbows on the table. Her ponytail bobbed or swung or whatever it was ponytails did when women shook their heads while groaning through their fingers. “You know…” Her fingertips dragged at her skin as she lifted her head again, and she looked like she was trying to pull whatever annoyed her out of her own face. Funny. I had that effect on a lot of people. “It’s true. Ben hasn’t gone. Yet,” she added pointedly. Giving me that look again. “Stop glaring at me.” “I’m not glaring—” “Yes, you are.” “I’m not! Am I? Am I glaring?” Gemma’s voice rose about seventeen octaves and if it got any higher, only dogs would have been able to hear her. Maybe not such a bad thing if it gave me peace and quiet. “Yeah, you were glaring,” Gary said. “You were a bit. But…” He shrugged. “Kit was being a twat-monkey again, so…” “Hey, fuck you, pal.” I scowled, no longer sure if this was all ‘ha ha, very funny, friends insulting friends’ or something a bit more sincere. “Sorry. Not really your area of expertise, is it?” he threw back. “You’re an arsehole. Put it that way.” “How am I the arsehole? He’s the one who—” “Christopher Blackman.” Gemma made herself sound like someone’s grandmother when she called me that. Sure, it was my name, but I still didn’t like to hear it. “Ben is moving out to be with his girlfriend. Yes, he’s breaking the lease, but you will manage.” “Yeah, by getting someone more reliable to—” “You. Will. Manage. Have you no romance in your soul?” Gary snorted. “Him? Romance?” This time it was me who glared. Trouble was, I couldn’t contradict him. Romance had died off around about the same time my sex life had packed its bags and left town on the Queen Street express.


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“Nah, you’d be hard pushed to find a soul, let alone any romance there,” he added and I raised my middle finger, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, or doing a pretty good impression of its sleep-deprived, crack addict cousin with homicidal tendencies. “When were you planning on dropping us in—I mean, moving out?” I asked, catching Gemma’s eye but ignoring the warning therein. Kind of. I’d amended my wording but the enquiry was the same. Ben shrugged. “Within a couple of weeks.” “Great.” I looked skyward, wondering if we could hold the damp patch on the kitchen ceiling quite literally over the landlord’s head. Give us some leeway with the rent and we won’t fake asthma, emphysema, bird flu and rickets before calling the environmental health with our ‘dying’ breaths. “That’ll leave us with six months on the lease, but we’ve got, what, a fortnight to find someone else to take over and smooth it with Simon?” “I’ll help you out if there’s any overlap with timetables and moving days,” Ben said. “Big of you.” “No you won’t,” Gary put in and I swore they were ganging up on me. “It doesn’t matter.” I barely got out a decidedly unmanly squeak before he silenced me with a look. He’d been taking lessons from Gemma, the duplicitous swine. “Simon won’t mind if we move someone else in as long as the money goes into his bank account every Friday. All it takes is running off another tenancy agreement and getting the new guy to sign it, and we’re golden. It’s fine. Really.” He flicked a glance my way and my stomach sank. It wasn’t just the financial situation bridging the gap between Ben Taylor and Unknown New Guy, but the unknown new guy himself. Gary and Ben took the piss out of me on occasion and I very, very rarely even warranted such treatment, but a new tenant meant dancing around a stranger, being polite, a way of communication that didn’t sit well with me. I was used to people shrugging off my moods and saying, “Oh, that’s just Kit. Ignore him.” I’d have to put myself out and pretend to be civilised so I didn’t scare off our new housemate, if we got one. We’d need the money, so damn it, I’d just have to be civilised for once in my miserable, lonely existence. I’d definitely need more beer for this. “That seems like a roundabout way of admitting I was right after all.” “You?” Gary asked. “About what?”


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“Putting an ad in the paper? Duh. Far be it from you to say yes, Kit, you were right, but—” “You’re not getting a female housemate, I can tell you that.” Gemma shook her head. Firm, determined and resolute. “I beg your pardon?” I began. “You don’t even live here and—” “Not for my sake, don’t worry. I’m not that controlling and possessive, am I? Tell them I’m not, Gary.” “Yes, dear.” But he winked and I think even I risked a brief smile. “No, I mean this house couldn’t handle two lots of PMT. It’s bad enough already with Princess Pissypants over there acting like the entire universe revolves around him.” “I’m the only practical one round here. You lot are too damn busy mooning over Ben’s thing.” “My thing? My thing?” Every furrow in his brow screamed confusion and what the fuck are you on? “Yeah, your relationship.” “It’s not a dirty word, Kit.” Gemma lowered her chin and looked up at me through downturned lashes. “Yeah, you would say that. You and him have got a…a…thing. As well.” “You really are a self-absorbed shit at times, Blackman, you know that?” “I like to plan ahead. I don’t enjoy having this sort of thing sprung on me at the last minute.” “Which is why I told you guys now, not at the last minute,” Ben put in. “Yeah, thanks for that—” “Oh, piss off back to your hobbit hole, Kit.” Gemma waved a dismissive hand and I bridled, even though that was exactly what I wanted to do. “We’ll deal with this.” “I thought it was me who came up with the idea of actually doing something?” I asked. “You know, the ad? Doing something practical instead of getting all starry-eyed just ‘cause Ben’s pussy-whi—I mean moving. Out.” I gulped. My throat suddenly parched, I’d never needed a stiff one more than I did at that moment. Double entendre intentional. “Oh, fuck it, I’m going back upstairs. I’ve got work to do.” “Missing you already, you twisted piece of—” Gemma began.


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“And there better be beer in that fridge by the time I come back downstairs!” I yelled, before drowning out whatever they said in reply by stomping on each stair as if I hated them as much as I did my own life.


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Chapter Two

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d picked up my phone and it was someone I wanted to speak to. Most of my friends—and by ‘friends’ I meant ‘people who hadn’t yet tried to kill me’—sent texts or emails when they wanted to get in touch. Only the brave or bastardly dared speak to me directly. My boss wasn’t brave. And I never learned. Yes, I checked the screen first, planning to ignore whichever idiot saw fit to disturb me but this guy signed my paycheque at the end of every month and it wasn’t like I had much of a social life anyway, the aforementioned friends choosing to communicate from a distance, so… I shrugged and slid open the mobile as I turned the corner onto the street where we lived and—remembered the definition of ‘we’ was about to change. Possibly. I’d put the ad in the paper, being something of a computer whizz—read: nerd—handy with a credit card and submitting the text online. Gary, though, had dealt with all the phone calls and interviews and informal chats and vetting the prospective masochists who thought living with us would be a good idea. Something to do with me not scaring anyone off. But he’d told me about the guy who made balloon-animals as a hobby and whose greatest achievement in life was lighting his own farts without toasting his balls. Then there was the fruit-loop who’d refused to arrange a visit during daylight hours because His Satanic Majesty preferred his minions to be nightwalkers. It was the bloke whose resume for the past three years was blank because he’d been a guest of Her Majesty who’d prompted Gary to tell me even I looked normal by comparison. “Somebody sober with no criminal convictions would be nice,” he’d said, adding a pitiful groan. “And I’m not sure Simon would be too happy if we moved in someone who wanted to paint the windows in Ben’s room black. His room, I mean. Whoever. The new tenant.”


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I’d stood in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around my chest, trying not to feel quite so smug, but Gary had met up with a platoon of nut-jobs after forbidding me from scaring off the normals so I went easy on myself. The smugforce was strong in this one. “I almost wish you’d been around to see them off,” he muttered and the smugforce grew for all of one millisecond until I realised it was a bit of a backhanded compliment. “Hey, wait a second. I’m just a normal—” He snorted. “—person who does his job, comes home and…” “Yeah? What do you do, Kit? I mean, aside from watching Supernatural DVDs on your laptop when you claim you’re ‘working’.” He made air-quotes with his forefingers, the pretentious little twat. “I like to break up my hours when I work from home by putting my feet up and—” “Cracking one off to Jensen Ackles?” “Pfft. Please. That’s just…you…I don’t…yeah, anyway, what I don’t do is try to recruit you into Beelzebub’s Dark Army, so be thankful for that at least.” “I reckon you’ve set me up with all these weirdoes as revenge for banning you from the vetting process.” “Now, would I do something like that?” I only wished I’d thought of it just to punish him. “And anyway, I don’t give a damn about the vetting process as long as it’s someone mostly human, not clinically insane, and who isn’t a complete knob.” “The complete opposite of you, then?” “I hope you end up signing someone who looks normal on the outside and turns out to be even worse than me. That’ll learn ya.” “You’ll have to live with him too.” “Sod that—I’ll just retreat to my room, watch some DVDs and wait to see the result of the last man standing bout downstairs. If that doesn’t work, I’ll just come on to him ‘til he freaks out and bolts. The next time around? I do the interviewing.” “And what if he likes it when you make a pass?” “I wouldn’t be so lucky as to end up living with a good-looking gay guy.” “Okay, what if he’s gay and ugly?” “Look, would you just stop it? You’re freaking me out now. Just get us an ugly straight guy, not clinically insane, no criminal record, IQ above his shoe size, not in league with the www.total-e-bound.com

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devil, preferably not given to lighting his own farts and making balloon animals and…” I shrugged. “We’re golden.” “Right. And where the hell am I gonna find one of those in this town?” “More fucking chance of that than finding a good-looking gay man,” I threw back. So there I was on the way back from work, struggling to remember the prospective housemate’s name—Stuart or Simon Something—and resist the urge to growl at my boss down the phone. “I know tomorrow’s your day off, but—” I knew what was coming, and my footsteps slowed. I didn’t want to meet this new guy—well, it wasn’t that. I just didn’t care as long as he was sane and halfway normal. So, I didn’t care to meet him, and I wanted this shit with Bill dealt with as soon as possible. “I’m gonna need you to flush out the bugs in the software and iron them out.” “You want me to”—I frowned at his interesting mixed metaphors—“iron out the bugs?” “Yeah, we need the beta software ready to show the client on Friday and—” “Why can’t Scott do it? He’s—” “He’s claiming some man-flu bullshit so you’re the only one left to deal with it.” Besides you, you mean? I wanted to ask out loud. “I haven’t had a day off in ages.” I stopped walking, indignation nailing me to the same pavement square, and for once I thought of others, and lurked to one side of the path so I didn’t get in anyone’s way. “And you expect me to come in tomorrow?” Not that I’d had anything planned. “I assumed you wouldn’t have much on anyway.” Bastard. “You assumed wrong.” You’re a bastard and I’m a liar. Unless loafing around on the settee being a couch potato all day constitutes ‘plans’. “If I get another migraine because of all this crap…” And with such words, I more or less agreed. Or at least allowed myself to be steamrollered. “As you’re coming in tomorrow—” “I’m working from home.” “—I’ll give you a day off in—what? If there’s any problem with the software I’ll need to know immediately.” “That’s why God invented the telephone and email. I’m working from home.” “Jesus, Kit.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Take it or leave it.” I probably sounded like I was trying to put the blackmail thumbscrews on him, but one of the advantages of being a selfish, anti-social, bad-tempered, insular little shit was I didn’t care. “Oh, and I want two days off in lieu.” “Fuck.” “I’m working from home as the office is too full of distractions for me to be able to concentrate.” Namely that fancy piece in accounting with the green eyes and narrow hips. “And I’m getting two days off in lieu because this is a bit last-minute. I’m just on my way home on the day before I was supposed to be getting a lie-in.” “Fine, fine, two days off. It’ll take some re-jigging of the schedules but I’ll let you know what days are available.” “I’ll let you know what days I’m taking off,” I said. I could tell him which I wouldn’t— whichever was moving day for the new guy. Gary and I had enough cash to tide us over for a month or two, but we needed to find someone quickly. If today’s guy didn’t work out, we’d be reduced to taking in Ex-Convict Man and sleeping with knives under our pillows. Still, on the upside he could probably organise a bank job for extra cash. Being banged up if caught wouldn’t be so bad. I’d have a roof over my head and a pretty good chance of getting laid if I kept dropping the soap in the showers. But, whoever moved in, he’d be doing so on his own, or with Gary. Moving one’s shit into the now-spare room wouldn’t take more than an hour or so. Clothes, books, bed linen— what else would there be? The only other requirement was hospitality and I didn’t do hospitable. Let Gary make the tea or pour the beer. Moving day would be one day I was more than willing to put up with Bill bending my ear about some bullshit or another, while eyeing up the twink I was sure had been giving me the glad-eye. Bill groaned. I grinned. I’d still have the day to myself at home even if I did have to work, and I was getting two other days off instead. Not so unprofitable a phone call after all. “I’ll come in at the end of the working day to let you know what I’ve come up with. If there are any problems I’ll call to let you know.” “Fine.” Gotcha. “I’ll need you to email me the details of what the problem is. I’ll run a diagnostic in the morning and set about trying to flush the bugs out.” “Yeah, do that then. Bye.” www.total-e-bound.com

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I stared at the dead phone for a second before sliding it shut and jamming it into my jacket pocket. “You’re welcome. Right.” Hitching my laptop bag on my shoulder, I started walking. One day off lost—if another two gained—one complete stranger to go make nice with. How much worse could the day get? I kicked the front door shut behind me with a click less terminal than I’d like. Ordinarily it made me think, “Home again, home again, clickety click,” but not this time. Not when I had work to do. “Kit, there you are.” Gary hovered in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed like a nagging housewife. All he needed was his hair in rollers and to brandish a rolling pin. “You say that like I’m late.” “You are.” “Hmm.” I cocked my head. “Oh well. Got a call from Bill, he wanted me to go in tomorrow but I told him to get fucked and…is the…” I peeked round the living room doorway. An empty room with nothing out of place. “Steven? He’s in the kitchen. We were just having coffee before I give him the tour. You want to come meet him?” Gary thumbed over his shoulder and I resisted the urge to screw up my eyes and get a closer look at the shadowy form lurking just out of sight, partially masked by the door. “No, I thought you were dealing with all that crap anyway? I meant the modem and router. They’re still switched on, I take it?” “Yeah, I was on my laptop earlier to send emails to… Look, you should probably come meet…” “Are you kidding? I’ve just had my day off pulled from under me and Bill’s emailing me some shit he needs sorting out. I want to get as much as possible done tonight so I can still spend some of tomorrow with my feet up.” Consciously dropping my voice, I eyed the kitchen behind Gary and beckoned with a discreet nod of my head. He came closer. “You can deal with him, can’t you? You always said I scare people off and if he’s sober and solvent and employed, then fine. Just sign him up. I’m not bothered, as long as he’s not gonna slaughter us in our beds.” “Yeah, but you should meet him. He actually seems halfway normal.” “No balloon animals?” Gary shook his head. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Is he one of the undead? A serial killer? He doesn’t believe he’s Napoleon or collect belly button fluff in coffee jars? Talk to the voices in his head?” “What are you smoking? God, no, he—” “Good, then just sign him, then, before he takes his wallet elsewhere.” “You are such a mercenary bastard, Blackman, you know that?” Backing up the stairs, holding my palms open in feigned innocence, I smiled. “I have a swinging brick where my heart used to be, Lacey. Now, go on. Shoo. Shoo. You have a housemate to go sign.” From the tone of his voice—low, growled—I guessed he was swearing at me, but my laughter blocked out any specific words. Four-letter ones, knowing him. Most of them learned from me given that Christopher Blackman was King of the Potty Mouths. I booted up the laptop before I’d even got my jacket off then kicked off my shoes and pulled my T-shirt over my head. Lax though the dress code was at work—ironed jeans were considered making an effort—I couldn’t wait to get my ‘work gear’ off. A shower would have been cool—well, boiling hot was my preference—but it’d have to wait. Bill’s email would come through any second and I wanted to check exactly what the problem was. I hoped he was getting his panties in a bunch over nothing, but one never knew… I was a couple of hundred words into my well-crafted reply, a thinly-veiled bullshit translation of “Bitch, please, are you a complete techno-tard?” when I heard footsteps on the stairs and laughter. Good sign. The tour continues, and they sound like they’re getting on. Then one of them had to go and spoil it all by knocking on my door. “I’m working.” “Come on, Kit, stop being such an anti-social bastard and come to meet Steven.” “I told you, I’m—” “I’ve got tea.” I jumped off the bed and threw the door open. “Why didn’t you say—” For a moment the presence of two men surprised me, as if Steven being there had deleted all mental preparation I’d done to accept a stranger being in my home. He blinked and frowned and I wondered if a shirtless blond with a really bad temper was so unusual that he had to keep staring like that. “Thanks. Shame it isn’t beer, though.” I lifted the mug out of Gary’s hand,


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telling myself it was the heat making mine shake, and moved to tap the door shut with my foot. “Wait.” Gary put his hand out. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” “I said thanks.” “Steven.” “What, did he make the tea? You’ll settle in here, then. Milk, no sugar for me. Have a nice day. Bye—” “Will you stop doing that?” Gary didn’t even give Steven a chance to speak and I wasn’t even sure the guy would be all that articulate, if his fascination with my only jewellery—a silver cross—was anything to go by. Then again, I did wear it on a chain of exactly the right length to rest between my pecs. Sad and lonely and bad-tempered I may have been, but vanity was pretty high on my list of sins too. “What? Doing what?” “Being rude.” “I wasn’t, was I?” I stared Steven out, willed him to look me in the eyes and cocked my head. Wished the tea was something a bit stronger than even beer. Christ, I need a stiff one. And I ended up choking on the damn tea. “Hey. I’m Steven Kenton.” He held out his hand. I guessed I was supposed to shake it or something. Then I wondered what his hand would be like wrapped around my— “Fuck.” “What?” Gary frowned. “Something wrong?” “Tea. Hot.” I cleared my throat. “Nice meeting you, Steven.” I backed off a step but neither of them made a move to shove off. “Gary’s just been telling me about the spare room.” “Yeah, well, it’s not this one. You’ll find it just across the hall, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to—” “Where are the other six?” “Sorry, what?” The little bastard had interrupted me. Okay, not so little. My height. Bit more slender. Curly black hair I reckoned would look fucking sensational wrapped around my fingers and, oh God, I really needed a date with someone other than Mrs Palmer and her five lovely daughters.


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Still, having a housemate that good-looking meant I’d be getting a lot more exercise in the coming—literally—weeks. Use your left too, Blackman, balance out the muscle definition in your biceps. “You know. Doc, Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, Sneezy and Dopey.” “What?” I thought for a moment, went through the list in my head. My mind wandered away from his thick black brows and my speculations on how they’d look knitting together in a frown right before he—“Wait a minute, did you just call me…? You cheeky bastard.” He burst out laughing, Gary restraining himself to a quiet snigger. Steven’s eyes crinkled up at the corners when he laughed and I hated noticing how gorgeous his mouth was when he smiled. It made me want to stick my cock in it. That’d soon shut up the cheeky fucker. “Look, I’ve got work to do, so go have a look round the house. If you like it, fine. Sign the lease. I’m more—” “Don’t you want to check me out?” Steven asked. I already am. “I beg your pardon?” “I mean, you don’t know who I am, or anything important, do you?” “Hasn’t Gary already talked to you about this?” “Yeah, but both of you guys have to agree, right? I could be a serial killer moving into your house.” “Are you?” “No.” “Got a good job? Money to pay the rent?” “Yeah.” “Criminal record?” “Does Wham’s Greatest Hits count?” I blinked. Please, God, let him be gay. No, let him be straight. Then I won’t spend my nights fantasising about what he’s like in bed. Top, I’d put my shirt on it. If I was wearing one. “As long as you don’t play it too loud when I’m trying to sleep.” “Or work?” he shot back. “Important job, is it?” “He’s a computer nerd,” Gary said. “Programmer.”


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“Which means he’s responsible for all the gadgets lying around the house. His dominion. It makes him feel important.” “You write games, then?” “I test them sometimes. Mostly it’s boring accounts software and shit like that.” I scowled. Back to being Grumpy, the missing seventh again. “Speaking of which…?” “Oh. Right.” Steven took a step back, thank God. His proximity wasn’t doing much for my blood pressure and I just hoped the imminent boner wouldn’t show itself until the door was closed and I had my cock in one hand and a bunch of Kleenex in the other. “Right, thank you for that, Mr Interested. I’ll go give Steven the tour, then, shall I?” “You do that. Thanks for the tea.” I winked at Gary. “Bring a biscuit next time, though, eh? Bye.” I shut the door, but slowly, and not before noticing the quick down-up sweep of Steven’s eyes. Their voices faded as they crossed the hall, and I leaned my forehead against the back of my door, clutching the tea mug like it was a lifeline. Man, I am so fucking screwed.


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Chapter Three

“Are we gonna have a housewarming party then, or what?” Steven reached over his head and held onto the settee back with one hand, the other resting in his lap. And I definitely didn't look. Much. What I did do was ignore the hint of treasure trail as his waistband shifted and stop halfway across the living room floor, panic flaring in the pit of my stomach like desire gone horribly wrong. I clutched two beer bottles between the fingers of one hand and with the other, held a third halfway to my lips. “What?” Gary, beside Steven on the settee, shrugged. “I don't see why we can't have a few people round.” He puffed out a breath, ruffling a perspiration-dampened fringe. Steven had had more boxes and bags to bring upstairs than expected. I'd arrived home as the worst of the work was done and for that, had been very grateful. Not out of selfishness—well, not entirely. But it would have been hard to cope with the sight of Steven's arms shifting boxes in that grey vest he wore. He had tattoos and I was in so, so much trouble. Avoiding him for an hour or two on moving day had been easy enough—I'd made the excuse that I was going to the local supermarket for supplies. Beer, pizza and the like. I'd have to pull off a monumental anti-social act if I was going to avoid him until my feelings died down. No, not feelings. Painful hard-on. Could take a while. So I'd picked up extra Kleenex while at the shops. “I was only joking you.” Steven leant forward, the switch from reclining to erect—oh, Goddamn it, Kit, why did you have to think of that word?—lending him a kinetic air, the feel of someone with whom I’d find it hard to keep up. “I knew it’d wind him up,” he added as an aside to Gary, the wide smile becoming a conspiratorial smirk even as he looked at me. Me. “Sounds like you’ve got him pegged.” I opened my mouth to speak, caught Steven’s eye as I advanced, reluctantly and not reluctantly. For God’s sake, Gary, why did you have to use that word?


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“I like to think so,” Steven murmured, nodding his thanks when I handed him a bottle. I held my breath in anticipation of his fingers brushing mine as he took his drink. Relief and disappointment coursed through me in equal measure when that contact didn’t come and I turned reluctantly away. Gary seemed oblivious to what had just passed between his two housemates. I wasn’t even sure myself, but my confusion hinted at there being something I’d missed. Fuck, I thought, throwing back another cooling mouthful of beer. Was Steven sending me an overture? I held a hand to the back of my neck, must have grimaced, because Gary looked at me in concern. “You getting another migraine?” “I bloody hope not,” I said, rolling my shoulder muscles. There was definitely tension there, but that could have been down to the six-feet-tall orgasm-in-human-form lounging on my settee. Our settee, now. Boning someone—or, in my case, being boned by someone—I lived with was such a bad idea. So was skulking in the bathroom, whacking off to my latest memory of the way his hair fell across his face, but it was safer that way. Just until I got over this stupid crush. Or my arm fell off and I wanked myself into a coma. “You get migraines?” Steven winced. “I don’t envy you that. My sister gets them. We have to creep around the house not making a sound for twenty-four hours until she resurfaces.” “Oh, we don’t have to do that. He drugs himself into unconsciousness and sleeps for around about that length of time.” “Is that healthy?” Steven asked. “A lot healthier than rolling around on the floor in agony.” “But…” Steven’s frown actually made him look genuinely concerned and I prayed that he wouldn’t be that most rare of creatures—a hot, single, caring gay guy. Because if he was, I was well and truly fucked. And not in the way I liked. “What if you’re sick?” “Rarely happens. I prefer to just take as many drugs as I can handle, climb into bed and wait for it to pass. But no…” I shook my head, wincing, though under my breath. “I’m not getting a migraine. I think. I better not be. Anyway…” I held up the now-empty bottle. “I’m gonna make this my first and last. Get one of those migraine strips out of the bathroom cabinet just in case.” “Those what?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Peel-off strips with gel on them,” Gary said. “He sticks them on the back of his neck and they smell so bloody antiseptic.” “They work,” I insisted. “They help when my neck goes stiff. Even if they do feel cold.” “Oh right. I’ll have to let my sister know. Don’t think she’s ever tried them,” Steven said. “You guys gimme your bottles—I’ll take them through to the bin.” “We can’t have the new guy clearing up on his first day.” But Gary’s protests were as empty as the two bottles he shoved into Steven’s arms. I, the lightweight, only had one to surrender. “Think I’ll head upstairs myself soon. Get my clothes unpacked, all that settling-in shit. Guess if I’m living here now I need to make myself at home.” “You don’t want to stay down here and watch a movie or something?” Gary asked. “Nah, I’m tired,” Steven said from the living room doorway. “Some other time when I haven’t been shifting boxes all day.” Damn, he had to put that image in my head again. He’d no doubt worn that vest for comfort and convenience, but it was inconveniently making me feel very uncomfortable, especially with front-row seats for a close-up viewing of his ink—Celtic knotting banded around his upper left arm and barbed wire around his upper right. The only thing hotter than tattooed arms was tattooed, perspiring arms, muscles cording with tension. “Kit?” That concerned frown again, and I got so angry at myself I nearly told him to fuck off. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I shook my head, but the images remained. It wasn’t a migraine—I hoped—and I didn’t need painkillers. What I needed was a good hard fuck but that hadn’t happened in ages and wasn’t likely to any time soon. I just wasn’t the kind of guy who got lucky with anyone who didn’t just want a one-night stand any more. I wasn’t overly-romantic about these things, but a deep and meaningful overnight affair with a housemate would fuck up the household dynamic more than it would my arse and with my history… “Well, if you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna stay down here and put all of Kit’s DVDs in the wrong casings just to fuck with his head next time he wants to watch Supernatural.” Gary grinned. “You—”


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“You watch Supernatural?” That made-my-balls-ache grin was back on Steven’s face, like all his birthdays had come at once. “Oh yeah,” Gary said. “Usually when he’s alone. So if he puts the DVD on, just stay out of his way. He turns into a total girl when Jensen—” “More of a Jared Padalecki guy myself.” Steven shrugged. “Anyway. I’ll see to the rubbish and head upstairs. I’ve only got tomorrow off, so I want to get all my things straightened out and tidied up. As much as I can.” He backed away into the kitchen and I breathed out, suppressing the groan into silence. “Right.” This conversation had me tied up in knots more tangled than the one inked on Steven’s arm, and I couldn’t put my finger on why I was so unsettled. “I’m gonna…” I thumbed over my shoulder in the general direction of the stairwell. “Go up…” “Yeah. You do that,” Gary said, laughing. “Don’t you dare.” I cast a glance at the DVD cabinet, then back at him. “Don’t.” “Would I?” “Yes, you would. But you won’t, or I will hurt you.” “Yeah? How?” “Next time Gemma calls I’ll tell her you’re at the clap clinic.” “You f—” I laughed. Quietly, because of the creeping stiffness at the back of my neck. “I think we understand each other. Night, then.” I shivered on entering the bathroom. Or maybe it was a shudder, born of nervous energy. I’d escaped but only momentarily. The guy was living here now and I’d been unable to come up with any excuse to say no, strike him off the list, beyond, “He distracts me from getting shit done.” So I’d remained silent as I signed the paperwork, told myself to think about the rent money. The twink. The twink in accounting. Ask him out. If—when—it all goes tits-up, you won’t have to see him nearly as much as you do Steven. This could not end well. I told myself the slight trembling in my hands as I opened the bathroom cabinet was down to the migraine aura, the premonition, the calm before the storm. If I took enough painkillers, got enough peace and quiet, there was a chance I could avoid the worst of it.


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“Fuck.” Even removing the strip’s backing was a bit too much for me to manage, and I sank onto the edge of the bath, waiting for my head to stop spinning. “You okay?” I lifted my head and the stiffness in the back of my neck became an ache. “Yeah.” It was a lie, but he didn’t know the exact truth of what I felt. “I was just on my way to my room to make a start on sorting all my things out. Thought I heard you say something.” Steven leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, and the sight of his muscles tautening made me feel sick. “Just said ‘fuck’, that’s all.” I hung my head, reasoning it was better than looking at him, and fiddled with the peel-off backing on the damn painkilling strip. The nausea was completely unrelated to the burgeoning migraine and no amount of medication would cure it. “You often swear to an empty room?” His voice neared me; funny how I was more aware of that than his footsteps. “Yeah, when I can’t get this fucking thing sorted,” I muttered, wishing he’d back off and stop making me want him. Maybe it was because it had been an embarrassingly long time since I’d got laid. I’d barely know what to do if he came onto me no matter how much I wanted him to. I wished he wouldn’t, though. Prayed he wouldn’t. “Here. Let me.” “No, it’s fine, I—” But he sat beside me on the edge of the bath and took the strip out of my hand. “Tiff’s hands always go a bit funny when she’s ill as well.” “Tiff?” “My sister. Tiffany.” Steven frowned as he used a fingernail to separate the strip from the peel-off backing. “There. Done it. Yeah, her hand-eye coordination’s shot when she gets a migraine. You put this on the back of your neck?” “Thanks. I’ll—” I shivered as soon as the cooling gel touched my neck and Steven’s hand curved against me, pressing the strip into place. “What’s wrong?” he whispered, like we were in a library or hospital waiting room, rather than a bathroom. His voice was so low it didn’t even echo against the tiles and porcelain.


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“Cold. It’s…” I stared at my feet, willing him to lift his hand away, but if he kept it there, I’d start to get used to it, start to want other things. I didn’t deal well with wanting. It always left me unsatisfied. “Cold.” I rolled my shoulders, but his hand stayed put. “Does this stick to your neck, then? I’ve—” “Yeah, it…” I made the mistake of watching his mouth. “It’s all right, I’ve got it. You can…” “Need anything else?” “No. Yes.” What the fuck did you say that for? Steven laughed, a close-lipped huff, barely more than a smile with the quietest of breaths behind it. “Make up your mind.” “I have trouble thinking straight when I’m distracted.” “You’re distracted? I thought you said you didn’t have a migraine? This was just a precaution?” “Yeah, well, sometimes worrying about something happening makes it come”—my speech slowed when his other hand snaked round to the back of my neck—“about.” Steven inhaled deeply. Held it. “You seem…” He cocked his head and breathed out just as slowly. “Tightly wound.” “You’ve got both hands on my neck.” “Am I hurting you?” “No, but…” Every muscle in my body wound itself even tighter. The position I was in, made awkward by such tension, ensured I’d have some sore spots in the morning unless I moved or relaxed soon. The first option wasn’t all that attractive; the second, impossible. I gripped the edge of the bath with both hands, knees pointing forward but head turned towards Steven. I could have balanced myself more comfortably by leaning a little closer to him, but if I even brushed his leg accidentally, I’d not stop there. “Kit.” He cocked his head further, his brow furrowed in scrutiny. “Why don’t people call you Chris?” “Do I look like a Chris to you?” “No, you look like a bad-tempered so-and-so.” But he smiled as he said it, then leaned in closer. “Grumpy.” “Why have you still got your hands on me, then?” “I’m being the Good Samaritan.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“By holding my head up?” “Yeah.” He pressed his lips together, nodded and said again, so quietly, “Yeah.” He trailed his thumbs lightly over my jaw and I startled, though not enough for him to break contact. “Steven.” “What is it?” “You’ve only lived here five minutes. This is a bit…” “I haven’t done anything.” “No, but you…” Those thumbs, that light trace, the electricity under my skin, none of that came from Steven being the Good Samaritan, the helpful housemate, the guy I could count on in a crisis. And if he didn’t fucking stop, it’d become even more obvious what he did to me. “I’ll admit I was thinking of it,” Steven said. “Why haven’t you done anything about it? If you were thinking about it, I mean?” “You seem a bit jumpy to me.” His gaze dipped to my mouth. “And like you said, I’ve only lived here five minutes. It’d probably be a bad idea.” I gulped. “What would?” “This.” He kissed me, and his lips were as warm as his hands, or maybe it was just that the pair of us sucked all warmth out of the air around us. He kissed me, and I let him, frozen into an inability to resist—not that I’d want to—or even respond. He pulled back, frowning, and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. He hadn’t even tried that with mine, keeping it restrained and light, no pressure. Just a simple first kiss. And I’d fucked up by blanking out and acting like I’d never been kissed before. “I thought you liked me.” “I did. Do.” I shook my head, wondered how to best explain my idiotic lack of response. “But…” “But?” At long last, Steven lifted his hands from my neck and sat back, resting his arms on his legs as he leant forward. I took a few seconds to notice I’d exactly echoed his posture, with a Kit Blackman twist—wringing my hands before speaking. “We live together.” “Yeah, I know. Maybe only for a few months, though. Who knows?” He’d signed up to the end of this lease, which was six months away and he could move on after that. Or re-sign. Not exactly long term. www.total-e-bound.com

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This, however, was his first night and I wasn’t looking forward to half a year of awkwardness whenever we passed on the stairs. “I tend to fuck these things up.” “It was just a kiss.” His thick black brows lifted and he eyed me sideways. “Wasn’t it?” “Yeah. Yeah, it was.” He waited, and I had no idea what was going to come out of my stupid mouth next. “It’s been a while.” Okay, stop now, Blackman. You are officially a pathetic idiot. “Have you seen you?” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was a compliment and coming from someone like him… “Things could get awkward.” “Hmm. Like they didn’t feel awkward when I was”—Steven shot a glance at the open door then back at me—“kissing you.” “It was a surprise. That’s all.” I wiped my perspiring palms on my jeans and stood, pressing gingerly at the strip on the back of my neck. Whatever was in the painkilling gel felt cold, and the memory of Steven’s hand warmed me up again. “Look, I’m no good at this sort of thing.” “What, talking? Kissing? Hey, if you need time to get warmed up I’m willing to try again—” “No, I mean this. You. Me.” I waved from me to him and back again, unable to decide if there was too much distance between us or not enough. “Were you about to use the R-word? Relationships?” Steven’s lips twisted into the kind of smile worn only by those trying desperately not to laugh. “God no.” I grimaced. “Christ, what do you think I am?” “I’m flattered you kept your disgust under control long enough to let me kiss you,” he muttered, looking away. “No, I meant…” But my voice faded away as he rose. I hadn’t wanted to freak him out by mentioning the R-word even if it was to say I didn’t do relationships. Not only that, I didn’t do interaction with other folks much at all. At work I was left pretty much to my own devices as long as the job got done. At home? Gary knew I didn’t like to be disturbed so the same went for my home life. “I’d better leave you to it.”


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I didn’t know if the curve to his lips was genuine or forced, didn’t dare look into his eyes to see. Real smiles reached the eyes too, but something told me I’d accidentally insulted him. It happened a lot with me, putting my foot in it unintentionally, but it was different now. I couldn’t just walk away from the person I’d pissed off so I preferred to pretend the insult hadn’t happened in the first place. “Hope the migraine doesn’t get any worse.” Steven closed the door softly behind him and though he’d left the room, the conversation didn’t feel over. There was still something left to say. But all I came up with was, “Fuck,” forced out through gritted teeth, and an overwhelming desire to kick myself.


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Chapter Four

On leaving the bathroom, the rhythmic thud at the back of my neck had become a dull half-pain, not as threatening as it had been minutes before. Maybe that had been down to every pulse point in my body responding to Steven’s adrenaline-inducing presence. Something like regret settled in the pit of my stomach—one abortive attempt at a kiss to which I’d failed to respond in any way that wasn’t an insult. I’d have been as well saying, “Ugh, get away from me, you insanely unattractive freak,” when that was the exact opposite of what I thought. I didn’t know how to handle men who were halfway decent-looking and currently residing in the same house. Still, I had disrespected him by brushing him off and so what if my sudden attack of conscience was nothing but an excuse to insinuate myself into his presence again? There’ll be plenty of chances for that, Kit. At breakfast. Lounging around in the evenings. Passing the time of day on weekends. You don’t have to… I watched my hand ball into a fist, my knuckles rap on his bedroom door. I hadn’t told them to do that. It seemed my cock wasn’t the only body part of mine which developed a mind of its own whenever Steven was nearby. “Yeah?” Seconds after that pseudo-greeting, the door opened and Steven jerked back, as if he hadn’t expected to see me standing there. Perhaps he’d thought Gary wanted to speak to him. His lips parted slightly, obvious surprise keeping him mute. Obsessively observant me—in this instance at least—noted the way his fingertips tightened around the paperbacks he clutched in one hand. Minutes before that hand had been on my— “Hey.” Nice opener, Blackman. “I…” What? Wanted to apologise? Straighten out what the fuck just happened even though I have no idea how to explain it? “Want to come in?” he finally said, startling me with the invitation. That hadn’t been my intention, but now the tentative welcome was on the table, I’d take it. I shrugged, little more than a twitch of my shoulders. I was a computer geek by trade, no actor, and my faux nonchalance fooled neither of us, I supposed.


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The door clicked shut behind us and the knot of guilt in the pit of my stomach unfurled and became a twist of anticipation. He’d let me in and shut the rest of the world out. Still, if Gary had happened by, he’d have seen two guys sitting in the bedroom of one of them, talking about whatever newly-acquainted housemates talked about. When ‘they’ could have talked downstairs, sure, but for all he knew, I could have volunteered my moving-in services at last. Told Steven I’d help him unpack and shelve his books. As it was, the word ‘migraine’ had been mooted so Gary wouldn’t dare disturb my closed bedroom door, nor the grumpy bastard he presumed lay behind it. But, I reminded myself, as if I needed reminding, if he happens to knock on Steven’s and discovers me here, what’s he gonna think? “Why’s the door closed, guys?” “Why’s the door closed?” Steven cocked his head. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” “No. I just thought…” “I figured we could use some privacy.” Steven stood entirely too close. My observational powers, rather than being muted with him nearby, were sharpened, magnifying the curly chest hairs just peeking out from the neckline of his vest. And now I knew he had a treasure trail and was definitely, definitely gay… “Oh?” “Unless you just came to offer your services?” I completely failed in my attempt to turn the cough of surprise into a simple clearing-ofmy-throat. What I did manage to do was make him laugh. “Helping me unpack, of course.” He waved two paperbacks at me. “What did you think I meant?” “Nothing. Nothing.” Steven swanned past and stood in front of the near-empty bookcase, laughing to himself. His shoulders shook with merriment, drawing my attention— once again—to his ink. “You know, considering you’re so tightly wound, you’re surprisingly easy to wind up.” “I am not—” The thud of the books hitting the shelf and sliding into place curtailed my denial. “Yes you are.” And Steven’s voice put paid to it absolutely. “Make yourself useful, then.” My already-tense facial muscles tautened still further when I frowned.


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“Open up the next box.” He nodded at the cardboard boxes on the floor at the foot of his bed and I complied. Thankfully they weren’t taped, just fastened with each flap tucked under the adjacent one, daisy-chain style. It took seconds to undo the first. “You know…” Don’t fold your arms, don’t fold your arms, don’t fold your—ah, fuck it. He folded his arms and leaned against the bookcase, grinning. “You probably wouldn’t get half the migraines you do if you just lightened up a bit. I bet the cost of your next beer consignment they’re stress-related.” “How do you know how many migraines I get?” “Tell me I’m wrong.” “Is your sister stressed out?” He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Tiffany? God, no. She’s so laid back she’s practically horizontal. In fact.” He shrugged. “Most of the time she is, but anyway, nice deflection there, Kit. With women, migraines are mostly hormonal. It’s unusual for men to get them. Most of the time in those cases, they’re stress-related. You have a high-pressure job?” “You’re joking, aren’t you? I dick about on computers all day; it’s hardly brain science. Rocket surgery. I mean—” “Computers and stress, see. I hate to say I told you so.” He reached out for a pile of books and I handed them to him, casting a quick glance over the spines and titles. “But you’re gonna do it anyway,” I muttered. “So this is the kind of thing you read, huh?” “You said ‘this’ with your eyebrows raised.” He winked. He winked, and turned his back, not looking in the least embarrassed, sheepish or shamefaced before he did so. And why would he? “Are you daring me to be shocked?” Steven looked over his shoulder—his toned, inked, get the fuck over it, Kit, shoulder— and laughed. “Not at all. I think I’d be the shocked one, though, if you read anything other than Computer Nerding for Dummies or any sort of geek manual.” “I read proper books too.” “Yeah? Name the last novel you read, Kit. For fun. The last DVD you watched that wasn’t Jensen Ackles wank-fodder.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“You’ve been paying attention?” “Or the last time you got laid,” he muttered, nearly but not quite under his breath, clearly intended to be heard. “What?” “Nothing, nothing. More books in that box, are there?” “That innocent act isn’t fooling anyone.” “Act? This isn’t an act.” Two supplicant hands waited, palms up, for the next load of books from the same box. I slapped them down on his hands one by one. “Elizabeth Silver? Ash Penn? L. M. Turner?” I recited. “I’m a gay guy with healthy appetites.” He shrugged. I couldn’t faze him no matter how I tried. It was me constantly on the back foot, and he’d only been a tenant for a matter of hours. The bed was made, he’d offloaded some stuff in the kitchen but his books and a few other bits and pieces were still in bags and boxes. He hadn’t even made his mark on the house yet. Me, on the other hand… “I read erotica on occasion. Sometimes I read the Brontes too.” He indicated a couple of books already shelved with, I had to admit, broken spines and worn covers. “Tolstoy for some light reading. I’m not all about the filth, Kit. I can be quite cerebral too.” “I never thought… Look, I didn’t knock on your door to discuss your reading material…” “No?” Without looking at me he shuffled a few books around on the shelf, perhaps grouping novels by the same author together, or arranging according to genre. Hell, he could have been colour-coding his shelves according to the appearance of the spines for all I knew. “No. About the…” I thumbed in the general direction of the bathroom. “What happened.” “Or didn’t happen, you mean.” “Hmm. Yeah.” I crouched on the floor at the foot of his bed, pulled another box open without even thinking to ask if this one was also full of books. It was. Kazuo Ishiguro, Wally Lamb, Ian McEwan. Vladimir Nabokov. My eyebrows lifted and I glanced at Steven. He caught my eye and stood, unmoving, one hand on the shelf at his shoulder height. “Like what you see?” www.total-e-bound.com

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I gulped. “I’m impressed.” “You say that like you thought I was a complete philistine.” He sidled nearer, but stopped when he was a foot or two away, thumbs hooked into his trouser pockets. I remained on the floor, looking up at him. Now this, I both liked, and didn’t. I hated the way he looked at me, even as his scrutiny intrigued. “Much as I’m sure you’d be uncomfortable if I went for the really obvious punch line,” he began. “What?” I asked. “While you’re down there?” “See? Maybe we are on the same wavelength after all.” Steven grinned. “There’s hope for you yet.” Another shrug, and he went on. “Let’s see to the books first. You can talk about my taste in literature when the real reason for your call makes you too, you know…” He rolled each shoulder in turn, then grimaced. “Icky.” “Look, I…” “Come on. Bring the whole box over. I know how icky it makes you handing over a few books at a time. My touch has that effect on a lot of men.” Steven retreated and added from the other side of the room, “Well? I’m offering you the opportunity to hold the box in between us like body armour. Can’t say fairer than that. I can’t possibly stick my tongue down your throat in front of Vladimir Nabokov, could I? It wouldn’t be proper.” I groaned as I rose, the box in my arms, and did as Steven bid. He’d only ordered me to stand there, holding the box while he did the organising work, but being this close to him was hard enough. And it wasn’t the only thing that was hard. One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand… “So.” He shot me a sideways glance after lightening my load by two Ishiguros and a Rushdie. “So?” “You knocked on my door, Kit.” “Ah. Yeah. The…” One McCarthy, a Mistry and a Kunzru. “Kiss-that-wasn’t-a-kiss?” “That.” “And you wanted to talk to me about it, did you?” Two McEwans. Two more. Obviously a big fan. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Yeah.” “That’s strange.” His lips quirked in a parody of a smile and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Steven paused with both hands on the waist-height shelf and turned his head to look at me. His body, however, remained angled away. “Because I’m the one doing most of the talking.” “It’s…” I cleared my throat, looked up at the ceiling, and startled when some weight lifted from the box in my arms. Two hardbacks. I didn’t see the names or titles. I’d somehow lost the ability to read. It didn’t help that they were Steven’s fingertips which skimmed over the gold leaf embossing a title which may have been written in a foreign language for all I could make out. “You know.” “Hard?” “Yes. No,” I amended instantly, but not quick enough to stop him bursting out laughing. I glanced back at the door, as if I expected someone else to have crept into the room unheard by either of us. “It’s all right. No one’s there.” Steven shook his head slowly as he emptied the box of its final novels. “Besides, I just laughed. If Gary heard me laugh, he wouldn’t think we were up to anything, would he?” “He’d wonder what the hell Miserable Git Kit had done to entertain our new housemate.” “Oh, I’m sure you could think of a few things.” The way he looked me down and up made my spine tingle. “If I’m in a guy’s bedroom and we’re up to something and he starts laughing, there’s something wrong with my pulling technique,” I muttered. “Ah, but we’re not, though, are we? Up to something, I mean.” “No. Maybe, but, oh, where should I…?” I indicated the box and he made a moue with his lips, I’m sure deliberately. “Just leave it at the foot of the bed. I’ll crush the boxes up and stick them in the recycling bin tomorrow.” All he’d said about his job since moving in was that he worked in an office. It probably didn’t allow its employees to show up in muscle-tight vests and jeans or shorts—dear God,


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shorts—but a crisp white shirt and dress trousers would look hot enough as I passed him on the stairs or in the kitchen and— “Kit?” “Oh, right. Yeah.” Tossing the box on the floor I turned back to him, startled by the furrowed brow, the intense scrutiny on his face. “I didn’t want you thinking, in the bathroom…” I rubbed the back of my neck as I always did when trying to initiate a bloody uncomfortable conversation, nearly dislodging the painkilling strip. I patted it back into place and cleared my throat. “Look, it’s just with us living together. I mean, sharing a house, not living together, that sounded a bit, you know…” Near-imperceptibly, he shook his head, the merest twitch and an equally gentle, nearsilent, “No,” was the only thing he said, leaning against the bookcase, arms and legs crossed. “Look, it’s unusual for someone to, you know, in the…” Come on, come on, Kenton. Give me something here. “Bathroom?” “Yes.” “You’d prefer I make a move on you in the privacy of my bedroom?” He pushed his weight off the bookcase and I shuddered, half in fear, half in anticipation. That twist in the pit of my stomach refused to fade. “No. I mean, not that I…” I gulped when he took a step closer. “Okay. Should I sneak into your bedroom in the middle of the night?” “Now I know you’re taking the piss.” “Why? How do you know?” I fought the urge to back off, to beat a hasty retreat followed by a fervent session of beating off in my own room. “Men like you…” He lowered his chin and looked up at me through downturned lashes. “Men like me…?” he prompted. “I’m going to assume that was your half-hearted, fucked-up attempt at trying to compliment me, rather than an insult.” “Merely an observation.” “What is it about men like me? Actually, forget that. What is a ‘man like me’?” “A fast worker.”


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“Good God, Kit. It doesn’t take six months to work out whether or not you fancy someone. I mean, you’re socially inept, grumpy, selfish and a workaholic loner, but you’re pretty easy on the eye, you know?” “You’re…” He lifted his eyebrows. “A straight talker.” “It’s the only straight thing about me.” I turned my laughter into a brief clearing of my throat. “I worked that out.” “Observant chap, aren’t you?” “Bit of a giveaway when you made a move on me on your first night here.” “That? You call that a move? Nah, that was a clumsy attempt at a kiss made even more clumsy by you acting like you’d never been that close to another man before.” “Been a while.” “How long?” “Embarrassingly long.” “You’re probably a bit rusty, then. I mean, if you thought what happened in the bathroom was me making a move on you…” “It wasn’t? I’d love to know what you…” My voice trailed away as I caught his eye, my face heating under his gaze. Busted. “Oh, would you, now?” He took a step forward and my entire body wanted to back off but my feet just. Wouldn’t. Move. “Steven, this really isn’t a good idea.” “Why are you here, then? You could have just crossed the hall and gone to bed.” “We live together.” “We share a house. That’s not quite the same thing. And the lease is only valid for another six months, so…” He shrugged and it was only when he stood a breath away from me that I rediscovered the power to move. Trouble was, I followed his lead like it was a dance with the final move being a left one-two, right one-two, and Kit’s back hits the wall. “This is only your first night here.” “Would you prefer I waited ‘til tomorrow instead?” “No—” “The weekend?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Steven. You’re not helping.” He laughed. “Okay, then tell me what the problem is.” I opened my mouth to speak but the way he inclined his head, eyebrows raised, eyes widened, taunted me. “Don’t tell me. We live together, it’s my first night, things could get awkward, blah, blah, blah,” he singsonged, nodding his head in a mocking parody of someone dropping off to sleep. “It’s true, though. And anyway, why would you? I mean, if I’m as grumpy and standoffish as you say, why would you even bother?” I knew I sounded like I was fishing for compliments and maybe I was, but the curiosity was genuine, at least. I just didn’t get it. This didn’t happen. Not to me. Not with men like him. I got the dregs, the leftovers, the bastards and the drunks. Not the gorgeous, confident, not-clinically-insane guys like Steven. “I also said you were easy on the eye, so why the hell not?” “I hardly know you.” “My name’s Steven Kenton. I’m twenty-nine years old. I’m gay, and I’ve got my hand on your cock. What else do you need to know?” “No you—fuck.” I groaned when he laid his hand over my erection, expecting him to laugh at my surprise, but his eyes clouded over. Only his arm, his hand, separated us and I thanked God the wall was at my back—nothing else would have kept me upright at that point. “Okay, so it’s through your jeans, but we’ll soon remedy that.” “This.” I took a deep breath and inhaled whatever it was about him that melted my resistance to nothing. “This won’t end well.” “Are you kidding me? A Kenton hand-job is the stuff of legend. This will have a very happy ending for both of us.” I gulped so hard my throat hurt. “No, really. This won’t end well—” His hand tightened just enough to stop me speaking and he leaned in so close I could almost, almost, almost taste his skin. I could have counted the flecks of stubble shadowing his jaw if I’d had any presence of mind left. “You don’t have much faith in me, do you?” he murmured and I wanted to tell him, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. Just shut the fuck up and kiss me. It’ll be so much better this time. No. Don’t.


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“I don’t have much faith in myself,” was all I managed to whisper in reply before, thank God, he did kiss me. And, Jesus, he tasted of beer and coffee and the smoke we’d made him stand at the window to indulge in, and gum. I’d kissed guys who were all about the tongue, but tonsil rockets did nothing for me. The way Steven took his time made me want it even more and when he finally did use the tip of his tongue to draw mine into his mouth, I could have come then and there. “So.” He drew back just enough to draw breath—an ability for which I envied him; I sure as hell couldn’t—and licked his lips. That alone made the kiss seem even hotter in retrospect. “What did you mean by a ‘man like me’ anyway?” I gave a short, quiet burst of nervous laughter. “Put it this way—I didn’t think you’d do any of this. It’s usually the way of things that I end up with guys who have been touched by the simple stick, or who lean a bit too heavy on the beer. You seem neither of those.” “Fucking hell, Kit, don’t go overboard with the compliments. You’ll make my head spin.” “I’m just saying, those are the kinds of guys I…” Damn it, Steven, why the hell do I keep losing my train of thought when you’re around? “That’s just the way of it.” “I can understand that. If you’re saying you end up with alkies and morons, I’m just saying I get that. I understand it. A guy would have to be either off his face or clinically insane to think he stood a chance with you, wouldn’t he?” If Steven Kenton’s presence messed with my head, Steven Kenton paying me such a compliment fried my brain from the inside out. “So.” Come on. Think, Blackman, think. “Which one are you?” “I’ll leave you to figure that one out,” he murmured, before kissing me again. My hands, up to that point, had been glued to the wall behind me, fingertips clawing at the air, and now somehow they found their way into Steven’s hair. When I tugged one of his dark curls to wrap it round my finger, he moaned, so I did it again. Breaking the kiss, he hissed in a breath. “Was that sore?” His hair was still wrapped around my finger. As I was around his. I stared at him for a second and started to disentangle my hands from his hair. “I didn’t say it hurt.” And I stopped. “You like having your hair pulled?” “Why do you think I let the curls grow?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Suits you.” “And when your hands tightened against my scalp I think it was the first slightly-lesscontrolled-than-usual action I’ve ever seen from you.” “You haven’t even lived here twenty-four hours yet. And I’ve been out most of the day anyway.” “Convenient.” One eyebrow quirked in vague accusation. “I was working.” “Working at not helping me move in.” “I’m here now.” “So you are.” He nodded, a lazy smirk making him look so smug I couldn’t resist giving his hair another pull. He winced. “God.” But the vertical creases at the bridge of his nose, the almost-frown, didn’t tell me he was in pain. No more than he could cope with anyway. “I’ve waited too long for this.” His hand on me tightened again and it was my turn to stifle a moan. “Too long? You—” “Don’t give me that only lived here a few hours bullshit again, Kit. I meant…how long have you been in this room?” “About five minutes.” “Then that’s five minutes too long.” Both his hands went for my belt and the desperation in his fumbling silenced any half-hearted protests I might have given. “Honestly, Kit.” He eased my zip down too damn slowly for my liking. Now he’d made his move, I wanted him to just fucking touch me. “We’re both grown men. This doesn’t… I mean, we don’t…” “Fuck.” One hand on my boxers meant he was one annoying sliver of fabric away from touching my bare skin and my balls ached for him to make me come. “Look at me.” I craned my neck, the voice in the back of my head desperately reciting, not that, anything but that. A strange angle to hold my head at, and stranger still was the absence of any pain, given the earlier threat of migraine. I let go of Steven’s messy black curls and slid my hands down his face, let them settle on his neck and felt him shake his head. “Kit?”


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“Don’t. Just…” Maybe if I lowered my head and looked at him before he made skin-onskin contact, it’d be easier to take, easier to make him understand… “Just what?” His fingers edged inside the waistband of my shorts. “Touch you?” “No. Yes. I mean don’t—” “Told you. Stuff of legend. Haven’t even laid my palm against your cock yet and I’ve already rendered you incoherent.” “Steven.” Something in my voice must have got through to him because his hand stopped its advance. I lowered my gaze, tried to concentrate on the way my hands looked against his neck. “I don’t like being looked at.” “What? Why the hell not? You’re—” “I don’t. Like it.” Steven’s confusion hung in the air between us—what little there was anyway—for the longest moment I’d ever lived through, then he shrugged and pushed himself closer. “All right, then.” His breath warmed my face and I wondered when he was going to kiss me again. “So I won’t look at you.” Pause, then he slid his hand down the underside of my cock and I growled from the back of my throat, quietly enough to be discreet, loud enough to let him know how good it felt. “I still need to listen to you, though.” I hauled in a laboured breath, almost wheezing, and Steven laughed against my ear. “God, that’s hot.” “Fuck. Steven. You—” I pushed my hips against him when he curved his hand around my cock. “Shit—” “Still want me to stop?” “No. Oh God.” Somehow I managed to twist my head round, pull his hair so I could kiss him this time. No, I didn’t want him looking at me, but his scrutiny only burned when he pulled back, looked at me from a distance greater than an inch. This way I didn’t have his intense stare on me and I could again taste the sharp tang of smoke on his tongue, the mint he’d eaten to mask it which had mixed with the smoke rather than hiding it. He broke the kiss and touched his forehead to mine, rasping inhalations a reply to whatever noises I made. Mostly close-lipped grunts, each one less controlled than the last. “I knew you’d feel good,” he whispered. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” “Did you know it? Did you think about this before I even touched you?” His hand slowed in anticipation of my answer. “Don’t.” Say it, Kit, say it. It’s not a fucking weakness to let another man know you want him. “Don’t stop.” “Tell me if you did, then,” Steven whispered, and I fought to still my body, quiet my breathing, so I could hear him clearly. His hand on my cock quickened, I whimpered, and his free hand pushed off the wall and came to rest on the curve of my waist. “Did you?” “I—” “I know I did. Especially since that first time I came round here.” Watching the down-up of his shoulder had me undone. As if a bare shoulder wasn’t bad—good—enough, it was inked, and it moved because he was minutes away from making me come. “When you came to your bedroom door.” “I caught you looking.” “Likewise.” Steven’s lips curved into a smile I felt against my neck, and breath huffed out of him in a discreet laugh, making me shiver. “Wondered if you were gay. Or openminded at least.” “Oh.” I nodded, screwed my eyes shut, wanting to come and not wanting to come. “Definitely. Gay. Oh God, I’m gonna…don’t…” He flicked his wrist in a way that made my breath catch and trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of my neck, along my jaw, to my mouth. “Fuck, you look—” “Don’t.” I clutched the hair at the nape of his neck, pulled him towards me, dipped my head, anything to stop him. “Kit—” “Don’t. Don’t look at me. Don’t. Don’t stop—” I grabbed his arm with my other hand, tried to force it to move faster, but realised I was only letting him guide me. I couldn’t force his hand; his arm was only there to give me something to hold on to. And I gritted my teeth to stop myself biting his neck. When I got this close… “Is there something wrong with me wanting to see what you look like when you come?” “Don’t—” www.total-e-bound.com

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“You say that word a lot,” he taunted. “Let me hear it, then. Let me hear you come.” “No. Not here. Can’t.” “Can’t let yourself go?” Steven’s palm fit perfectly against the underside of my cock, then with a flick of his wrist, over the head, spreading the pre-cum over me with every stroke. “Yes you can. I know you want to come.” The gentleness, the quietude, of his voice goaded me. “I know you need to.” “He might—we could…” “Kit.” My fingers tightened in his hair, my other hand digging so deeply into his arm I’d leave bruises. Not that I cared. “Kit.” That got my attention but even though I was so far gone, I still couldn’t look him in the eye. I lifted my face away from the curve of Steven’s neck to show I was listening, but there was nothing to hear. He merely nudged me until his mouth was against mine again and his tongue ran along the underside of mine at the exact moment I came, choking off any sounds I might have made above a grunt of shock and relief. A combination of coming that hard and lack of oxygen had just begun to make my head spin when he broke off the kiss and gasped. “Oh yes.” His voice was so thick with arousal I’d have thought he was the one who’d just had an almost-complete-stranger wank him off up against the wall. “Fuck. I needed that.” “You…?” I croaked. “Steven, you…” My chest heaved as I forced oxygen back into my lungs. “Are you kidding me?” Again, our foreheads touched and his was misted with perspiration. Or maybe that was mine. “Ever since I saw you with your shirt off I needed to know what it felt like when you came.” And he hadn’t yet lifted his hand off my cock. Every so often he stroked it again as if willing it back to life. Ordinarily there was no way I’d get hard again after mere minutes, but with Steven Kenton, who knew what could happen? Even the sensation of my dick going soft and his spunk-covered hand spreading the love sent a faint tingle of arousal to the base of my spine. “Oh. Oh God. Shit, sorry, I…” “You’re apologising for coming all over my hand?” His hand slowed to a stop but still he didn’t let go. “Where else was it gonna go?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“You really want an answer to that?” “I could think of a few places. Plenty of other chances anyway.” Steven paused, inclined his head, dropped his gaze to my mouth, which wasn’t so bad. It was being looked in the eyes I couldn’t handle. “Will you be all right if I let you go?” “Yeah, of course I—” But my knees shook as he stood back, laughing. “Sure? Right, I had a box of tissues here somewhere.” “You too?” I muttered, tucking myself in and reaching for my zip. “What?” But he didn’t look over his shoulder at me, busying himself with wiping my jizz off his hand and arm with a handful of paper tissues. “Nothing.” Again I craned my neck, looked up, and couldn’t stop my knees trembling. Yeah. Nothing like a Kenton hand-job, is there, Blackman? It’d look comedic, I knew, but I let myself slide down the wall to a crouch before sitting on the floor. Steven tossed the tissues into a bag used as a bin and turned to face me again, laughing at the sight of me. “That bad?” I tried to smile but had to look away. “Or that good, I’d prefer to think. How’s the head?” “Which one?” “I meant the migraine, Kit.” “Oh. That. Yeah.” I waved a hand before resting my elbow on a bent knee and cupping my head. “It’s fine.” “A Kenton hand-job. The stuff of legend and the kind of migraine cure your GP would never prescribe.” “I don’t think I could stand it if he did, especially with the number of migraines I get.” “And now you see why I never fall for the ‘not tonight, dear, I’ve got a headache’ excuse.” “Yeah. Your hand is living, breathing Migraleve.” “One does one’s best.” He grinned and let himself fall back on the bed, one arm thrown over his face as if he was the exhausted one. Well, he had moved house that day, been shifting boxes and bags. Giving me a monumental hand-job was probably just something to pass the time. Absolutely nothing to him. Just like it meant nothing to me. Maybe if I said that often enough I’d start to believe it. www.total-e-bound.com

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Chapter Five

“Well.” Steven parted the blinds with the tips of his fingers and peered out as if expecting to see something interesting across the street. He exhaled sharply, let the blinds fall back into place and turned around again, to face the living room. I, slouched on the settee only half paying attention to the DVD I wasn’t watching, shoved another handful of jelly beans into my mouth. The bowl, balanced on my lap, was nearly empty. God knew what I’d done with them all. Eaten them, probably. I’d gone into that DVD-and-junk-food fugue again, only woken up by Steven’s movements and single word. “Tell me about you.” Coughing back the last of the jelly beans, I frowned. “Me?” He shrugged, palms visible, the picture of innocent curiosity. “Yeah. You.” “There’s not much to tell.” I hoped this wasn’t going to be the way of it every time Gary and Gemma had a night out. Steven probing me, but not in the way I’d like him to. He may have wanked me off on his first night here a week or two back, but getting into my pants didn’t mean he had to attempt to get into my head. “You know what Gary says about me. I’m a computer geek. I have no social life. Hell, I’m anti-social, and…” I shrugged as best I could in my near-recumbent position. “That’s about it.” “Kit.” “My name’s Christopher Blackman. I’m twenty-seven years old—” I began, echoing his reluctant confession in the bedroom on his first night here. “You’re gay and you don’t have your hand on my cock?” Steven concluded, proving he remembered at least some of what had occurred in detail. Me? I remembered all of it. Every last second. Every word. Every stroke. I shifted on the settee, wishing the now-empty bowl was a pillow. A folded coat. Anything that stood a chance of hiding how well I remembered the other evening. “Well, no.” I cleared my throat, straightened and sat the bowl on the table, hoping my posture


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prevented Steven seeing the effect such a reminder of the other night—as if I needed one— had on me. Not that he’d be looking there of course. “I was only joking.” His close-lipped smile, almost a smirk, made it clear he’d got the better of me and knew it. Casually insert the memory of that hand-job into Kit’s head again and carry on like I never said a word. He paced slowly from the window to the other side of the room. Turned, set a course for the window again. “Not asking for your life story. Just small talk. You kept remarking on the fact we don’t really know each other, after all. You know, before I—” “Yes,” I put in. “I know that. Thank you. I wasn’t…” It hadn’t been my way of trying to get to know him. I’d been trying to tell him how crazy it was, how we shouldn’t have…he shouldn’t have… But he did. He’d touched me but that didn’t mean we had to be all intimate about it. “And I don’t have that much to say about myself.” Parents still alive. I was out to them and everyone else. A younger brother. One or two exes I did my best to avoid and that was it. Not much to show for twenty-seven years. “There must be something interesting about you.” “Nope. I’m entirely boring.” Steven stopped in his pacing back and forth, looked down at me and huffed out a breath. Half acknowledgement of my words, half amusement, I suspected. And he continued pacing. “You an only child?” “Nope.” “Well?” “Well what?” I met his gaze and sighed heavily. “A brother. James. He lives with his girlfriend, Sarah, and their little boy, Sam.” “Oh my God—you’re an uncle?” Even from this distance, which was admittedly only a few feet, I noticed how brightly his eyes sparkled. “Yes. I’m an uncle.” “That is—” “Don’t you dare say cute.” “I wasn’t gonna. Tiff calls everything ‘totes adorbz’; maybe that—” “If you ever call me ‘totes adorbz’, I will rip your face off, Kenton.” “I wouldn’t dare.” Steven held up his hands in a parody of surrender as he wandered over to the living room bookcase, but the grin spoilt the effect of subdued contrition he’d no www.total-e-bound.com

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doubt been aiming for. We used the bookcase for DVDs and CDs as well as books. Anything that migrated to another room without having the decency to be labelled or have its ownership clearly marked ended up there. It was the lost property office of Casa Blackman, Lacey and Kenton. He was probably pretending to be absorbed in the paperbacks’ spines. After a few seconds of acting, he looked over his shoulder. “What? What? Oh, is this where I’m expected to ask about your family?” “One would assume it was the polite thing to do.” “Fine.” I drew out the monosyllabic word for as long as possible, making it an agonised breath. “Tell me about your family.” I focused on the television, or tried to. Just so I didn’t have to look at him. “…just Tiff. Our dad’s not around anymore but we still see Mum regular—Kit, are you—” “Mmm, I’m listening.” “What did I just say then?” “Tiffany’s your only sibling and you still see your mother.” “Right, and when we were kids, we were kidnapped by aliens. They sucked our brains out through a straw, and now I’m gay and she’s dating two guys who know about each other.” “What?” “Actually, that part’s true.” “You had your brains sucked out-” “No, you dipshit. The fact Tiff’s seeing two guys. Isaac and Jason. They know about each other. Very modern and avant garde. Our mother’s so proud. I’m gay and she’s a slut.” “Your mother’s a—” “No, my mother is not a slut. Jesus, Blackman, do you ever listen to a word I say?” “Sorry. So.” I shifted in my seat, trying to pay attention. “You were saying. Tiffany’s a slut?” “Yes.” Steven nodded, apparently grateful for my attention. Tiffany is the whore in the Kenton family. Our mother is an angel.” “I’m sure she is,” I muttered, wondering what the point was of all this small talk. When Steven started pacing again, I settled, relieved, but he made sure he got in my way, slowing when in front of the television. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Steven.” But it wasn’t a call for his attention, though he sure had mine. I tried to inject as much admonition into my tone as possible, but that wasn’t very much and I sounded whinier than I would have cared to admit. “What?” He stopped, hands in pockets, drawing my attention to the bulge in his jeans. Most of which was probably his hands displacing the fabric. Not that I was looking. “Oh,” he continued, stepping out of the way of the television. “I’m blocking your view?” “View’s fine,” I muttered, not meeting his eyes. I didn’t need to do so to know they’d be twinkling in mischief. I wanted him to leave me alone. I didn’t want him to leave me alone. This flirting, this halfway house of human interaction, gave me fits. Apparently normal people liked to start off with a hello, a what’s-your-name, a date, dinner, seduction by degrees, all that bollocks. Me? I preferred to fuck when I was horny and be left alone when I wasn’t. Granted, he couldn’t leave me alone, not if we were talking matters of proximity. He lived here. I’d assumed—hoped—he’d go right back to being a near-stranger after I’d shot my load all over him. Proximity meant he couldn’t leave me alone but a newfound penchant for taunting myself with the memory of that epic hand-job meant I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I could cope with extremes but Steven Bloody Kenton seemed to want to go from one to the other, then fuck with my head by settling somewhere in the middle. “Just trying to make conversation.” He leaned against the wall by the window frame, but not looking out this time. Apparently he found the grumpy bastard sitting on the settee more interesting than the cookie-cutter semis across the road. I’ve got a semi for him, I thought, trying not to snort with laughter at my own black humour. He knew he turned me on but I didn’t want him to see proof. Or touch it. Or… I gulped. “What time’s Gary due back?” “About half ten,” I blurted out, instantly feeling uncomfortable. I’d dropped myself in it without exactly knowing what ‘it’ was. And all because Steven had flipped the topic on me, www.total-e-bound.com

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throwing me with that swift, sharp change of subject, giving me no time to think up a reply with which I could avoid whatever it was he was trying to do. “Gemma coming back here with him?” I gave him a shrug. It probably looked more like I was trying to shake the chip off my shoulder. “Dunno. He didn’t say.” Getting up and just heading for the kitchen for more munchies, rude or not rude? Yeah, probably is. Sighing, I flopped back, clasped hands resting in my lap, not hearing the television even though I knew I hadn’t hit the mute button. I’d watched this DVD time and time again already, but I was fucked if I could remember what this episode was about. Yeah. Fucked. Chance would be a fine thing. “Something up?” Steven ventured, and I glanced across the room. “Wrong, I mean. Something wrong?” Bastard. You know exactly what you’re doing. “Thought you might have another migraine coming on, the way you’re rubbing your…” He paused, cleared his throat, pointed briefly at me. “Temple.” “No.” “I remember what happened last time you claimed to have a migraine.” “Yes. Well.” I clenched my jaw to prevent myself saying anything I’d later regret like, oh my God, please do it again, don’t make me beg, please do it. Breathing deeply through my nose, I forced my tense facial muscles to relax. “I don’t have a migraine.” Although you’re likely to fucking give me one. I coughed. The thought of Steven Kenton giving me one was too distracting to— “Shame.” I glared at him. “Stop it.” “Stop what?” “You know what.” “There’s no need to be so bloody Kit. There’s nobody else at home this evening. We have the place to ourselves.” “Yeah.” I tried to focus on the television but nothing registered. Actors said words, but they went in one ear and out the other. “That’s what I’m scared of,” I muttered, and grabbed the remote control. My finger hovered over the mute button for the longest second in history


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before I pressed it. Silencing the action on screen was an unmistakeable border between before and after. Before I gave in and after I acknowledged Steven had my attention. “You’re not scared of me, are you?” “No,” I shot back, a little too quickly. “Oh.” He shrugged. “Good. Otherwise I might have been offended. You’re obviously not busy, so I thought we could talk, although I’m sure I could find something else for my mouth to do.” “Jesus.” I closed my eyes and took a long, slow, deep breath. “You are not helping.” When I opened my eyes again, Steven was staring at me, and smirking. “Are you really that scared of conversation?” “Are you really that keen to have one?” “No, but it’s polite to get to know each other before I make you come again.” A cough of astonishment burst out of me and I thanked God I wasn’t still eating jelly beans or drinking coffee as he spoke. “I beg your—” “Okay, okay, just trying to shock a reaction out of you,” he muttered, running a finger along the edge of one of the shelves. I imagined him wearing white gloves and inspecting the house for dust motes, could have sworn I heard the sigh in time with the rise and fall of his chest. It was so much easier to watch him wander around the room, killing time, than it was to pay attention to whichever DVD it was I’d slotted into the player earlier. “You don’t have to worry; I’m not going to do anything untoward,” he said softly, not even looking at me, nor raising his voice much, overtly confident that I’d be attuned to him. When he spun round again I startled, but kept my eyes on him. I wouldn’t fool either of us if I averted my gaze and pretended to concentrate on anything else. I wasn’t that good an actor. “You’re concerned about what happened before,” he said, making it a statement and an accusation all at once, even while absolving himself of any imagined culpability. What happened rather than what I did made it passive. An occurrence. Not something we did together. I hitched both shoulders in a shrug that was more of a judder or nervous tic. “No.” I was no better at lying than I was acting. “Maybe.” “I don’t see why, you know.” “Because…” www.total-e-bound.com

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Steven’s eyebrows lifted in anticipation of my answer. Breath whooshed out of me along with any protest. There was no way of saying it out loud without sounding like a fucking retard. I don’t want to get involved with you because I’ll waste my time waiting for you to leave. “There’s no reason for you to get jittery about it.” Steven neared the settee and spent an age making me wonder if he was just going to bloody well sit before he did, but beside me, not twisted round to look at me. As if we were side-by-side on a sports bench, or in a doctor’s waiting room. As if I made him just as fidgety as he did me. But that made no sense. His wandering around the living room, picking things up, giving them a cursory glance, putting them down again, pacing, trying and failing to make small talk…none of that was the jitters, surely. It was just him being annoying. Inflicting his presence on me. “It was just a fucking…” He slumped back, running both hands through his curly black hair and I wished they were my hands. The first time I’d laid eyes on him I’d fantasised about tangling my fingers in his hair while he knelt in front of me and it was possible. Distinctly possible. He would—I knew it. If I so much as hinted… “Just a fucking hand-job, you know?” “Yeah.” More excuses leapt into my mouth but I swallowed them back—gulped, even, because that’s all they would have been. Excuses. “Look.” Steven moved lightning-fast, and if I’d had any hope of regaining my equilibrium with him sitting so close by when we had the house to ourselves, it vanished then, when he twisted to one side to face me. One leg curled up in front of him on the settee, one arm along the seat back, he frowned, concentrated—I thought—on my mouth and waited for it to spew forth the excuses I tried to silence. “I know something about this doesn’t sit well with you.” The furrows in his brow deepened and I realised he was waiting, again, for me to say no. He’d grown used to that. He’d probably also grown used to it being bullshit. “And whatever it is—” “I’m not good with people.” “Yeah.” He nodded, giving in to a laugh, which he quickly smothered. “I noticed.” “No, I mean you.” “I noticed that too.” “Look. Anyone I get involved with…” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I wanked you off once—let’s not start planning the wedding, eh?” A chill ran up my spine and for a moment, just a moment, my heart stopped. Exactly what I’d been afraid of. Me mentioning anything like ‘involvement’ or a ‘relationship’ and freaking the other person out was such a deep-seated fear I went completely the other way, held everyone at arm’s length. And this was exactly why. Just the vaguest, most tentative hint and he thought I thought… “We live in the same house; that’s kind of involved, even if it means we co-sign a tenancy agreement rather than a marriage certificate,” I threw at him, embarrassment roiling my stomach like one too many Tequila shots when I was already bombed on cheap beer and grass. “Jeez, Blackman, I was only kidding.” He drew back, inclined his head a touch. I was completely useless at getting deadpan humour, especially when it related to interpersonal relationships. Kit Blackman, computer nerd, was devoid of any sense of subtlety when in close proximity to a hot man. “Whatever you meant by it, you don’t have to worry about me planning the wedding or any shit like that,” I said, scrabbling around for the remote control again. Maybe if I switched the sound back on it’d give me something to listen to besides Steven, and my own confusion. “I was only trying to explain to you why I don’t get involved with people; and somehow it’s been twisted to make me feel like—” “Hey, will you stop that?” Steven laid his hand on top of mine before I could grab the remote and nearly every part of me froze at his touch. I managed to look at him, though. God knew how. I let my gaze drift over his face rather than focusing on his eyes. “…like…” I’d thought speaking would jolt him into moving his hand, but it stayed on mine. “Like I’m the one who’s crowding you.” Steven’s lips parted, his gasp near-silent. “Wow.” He lifted his hand away from mine, rested it in his own lap. “Is that what you really think? Am I crowding you?” “Steven. Just listen.” I hadn’t thought to interrupt him, but the words were out before I could stop them and I had no idea what I was going to say next, what I wanted him “Fuck. This has got all mixed up. I don’t know how… Okay.” I took a deep breath and some sick, twisted part of me wondered if the living room had shrunk to the size of a confessional box. “Anyone I get involved—I mean, fool around with… I’m not good with people.” “Duh. Yeah, we’ve established that. And how.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I tend to back off. Quickly. I don’t do serious. You know?” Steven bit his lip and I watched as his eyes narrowed. That incline to his head was back again, and I wanted to know what was going on inside that infuriating, intriguing, gorgeous head of his. “So…” “So?” I was the one who was pushing him away, but I was the one who waited on his verdict. “You are so tightly wound it’s untrue.” “That’s as may be—” “You really need to get laid.” “I—What?” “Seriously. I mean, I know my hand-job would have relieved some of the tension, but let’s face it, any guy can give himself the five-knuckle shuffle. Still, I didn’t want to move too fast on my first night here.” “Oh. Clearly.” “Just thought I’d help you out, yeah?” “How very…noble?” “But it seems to me like you freak out every time someone gets close to you and I don’t mean emotionally. That is, it’s clear to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that you’re an emotional retard, but—” “This is you trying to seduce me?” “—physically, you’re like a frightened rabbit at times. I’m not gonna kill you, for fuck’s sake, Kit.” “Thank God for that. You had me worried.” “Not even gonna hurt you. Unless you like that sort of thing.” “What?” “See? Easy to wind up. So. Damn. Easy. A couple more minutes of me taking the piss and you’d probably explode.” “Maybe you’d better stop then?” “I know just the thing that’ll relieve some of that tension.” “I am not fucking tense.” “Oh. Really.” Steven drew back a touch, eyebrows raised in a perfectly-executed, silent, that’ll be fucking right. www.total-e-bound.com

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“If I am it’s your fault.” “Maybe I should do something to relieve it then.” “Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of this…” “You’re the only gay guy I know who’d turn down the chance of a blowjob.” “Will you stop the—What?” “Ah, see? I knew that’d get your attention.” “You’re seriously telling me you would…?” “No.” Steven shook his head and the movement of his black curls drew my attention. Oh, just the thought of grabbing two handfuls of them and forcing him to— “I’m telling you I will.” He leaned in and my first reaction was to back off; God knew why, but it was my reflex. He was right. When anyone got close… But he was too quick, and the settee back held me in place for him anyway. “Jesus. I have no idea why I let you do this to me,” he murmured before curving his hand around my neck, making me hiss back a cool breath. “You okay?” “Yeah. Yeah. Fine.” And I was a shitty liar. “Wondered if it was your neck. Again.” “No. Neck’s not the part of me that’s all stiff,” I slurred, waiting for him to kiss me. He’d been winding me up ever since entering the living room and now he had me right where he wanted me—slumped on the settee, frozen with tension and not. Going. Anywhere. He gave a quiet laugh and his hand on my neck flinched, tightened. “Are you sure this is all right?” “Yeah. ‘S fine.” “Really? ‘Cause if you’re—” “Steven, just stop fucking winding me up and do it if you’re gonna.” “You really know how to make a guy feel special.” “Fuck you.” “I never bottom. Now don’t tell me. You never top. And what a fine pair we make.” Steven leaned even closer and my breath caught. “Jesus, you’re…” He sighed and ran his thumb back and forth over my neck, bringing his free hand up to the other side of me. It had been a long time since I’d been cradled like that. “Loosen up, will you? It’s kinda off-putting when you’re getting no response.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Oh, I could. But if I do, I’ll…” I bit my lip and tried to avoid his gaze but it was difficult with him inches away from me, so close I felt his breath on my face. “Yeah.” He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and spoke in a whisper so restrained it was nothing more than a breath against my skin. “I know what you are.” My surprise at what he’d said distracted me for only a second, but it was long enough for him to kiss me, both hands on either side of my face like he was trying to stop me backing off and running away. Not that I wanted to. Any need to escape disappeared when I tasted his tongue on mine and I melted. He didn’t exactly break the kiss—his lips still touched mine, but only while he spoke. Whispered. “It’s bloody obvious.” “Gay?” “No, you fool. You’re an all or nothing person.” I opened my mouth to protest but I couldn’t. There was no point. It was the truth, and he kissed me again before I was able to form any words anyway. “There’s no middle ground with you,” Steven said, and lifted one hand away from my skin. My neck felt cold then, or empty, if that made any sense. “You’re a regular little psycholo—fuck.” He hadn’t even touched me, just gone for my belt. “Steven.” “See, you’re doing it again. That was your panic voice. Your ‘I’m trying to come up with an excuse to wriggle out of this’ voice.” “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” He stopped, drew back and frowned, but his lips still twisted into an almost-smile. I may have infuriated him, but I amused him too. “I would if you meant it.” “Now you can read my mind.” “I don’t have to. Anyone can read you like a book. Besides, I know you fancy me. You’re the one with a boner, Blackman.” Ah. He had me there. I was a shitty actor and an even worse liar, but my cock told the truth. “If I turned you off, I wouldn’t be doing this now, but…” He shrugged, went back to fiddling with my belt. I didn’t help him. He did all right on his own. “I don’t know why you’re doing this.”


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“Simple.” He shot me a glance before turning his attention to my buckle which eventually—thank God—gave. “I want to. And you want me to.” “No, I…” But I stopped. The look in his eyes asked me, Do you really want me to stop? and anything further would have put doubt in his mind as well as my own. “Gary. He could come back—” Ah, Kit, what did you have to go and say that for? “You just told me they weren’t due back ‘til half ten.” “Yeah, but—” “Do you want me to stop?” “Fuck no.” Steven grinned and leaned into me, his weight pushing me against the settee back, making me slump down even farther. “Thought not.” “God, you’re—” I couldn’t continue. The feel of his palm, his skin on my cock, and I was undone. “You’re, oh Jesus, I can’t…” I had no idea what it was I couldn’t, but Steven ignored me anyway. His knees hit the floor and I realised, no, he hadn’t got me close with a hand-job first—he’d barely kissed me, gone straight for the good stuff, but why the hell did that matter? It was what I wanted, wasn’t it? I couldn’t see his lips around my cock but I felt them even as that curtain of black hair fell in front of his face. I had to heave in a breath, gripping the seat cushions on either side of me, just to stay grounded. At first he just made contact, let me feel his mouth on me. Then his tongue ran up the underside of my cock and I shuddered, back bowing so sharply the burst of sensation at the base of my spine hurt. Steven raised his gaze and I craned my neck, let him think it was lust that made me look away, rather than embarrassment at being seen to lose control. Even this soon I wasn’t sure I could keep it together. Groping around for his curls to wind around my hands, I managed to twist strands of his hair in my fingers and pull him closer. His head sank farther, giving me the courage to look again. I could watch him, but he couldn’t watch me. “Oh. Oh—” I wanted to tell him how warm his mouth felt, what his tongue did to me, but couldn’t do anything more than gasp, hoping the way my fingers tightened in his hair would tell him that felt fucking perfect. Whatever he did with his lips or tongue was perfect.


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Wherever this had come from, the reason he was doing this, I had no idea. Wasn’t even sure I cared. If Steven was trying to seduce me he was doing a pretty damn good job of it and I’d worry about the consequences tomorrow. “Fuck. Don’t…” I gulped back air. There was something I needed to say, but Steven’s mouth on me meant the English language was beyond my usual control. “Stop.” He hesitated, his lips still on me, but not moving. “I meant don’t stop.” My voice was breathless but at least I’d managed to articulate the words, and I let out a long, slow, heavy sigh when Steven dipped his head again. A sigh that became a moan. “Oh God.” I let go with one hand, steadied myself against the seat cushions and tried to push myself deeper into his mouth, but he laid one hand on my hip to stop me. That was all it took. My other hand, still tangled in his hair, contracted, but didn’t push down. No matter how desperate I was to come, I couldn’t bring myself to break the rules of blowjob etiquette. I sank back, almost laughing. Blow job etiquette, Blackman? Really? At a time like this? Then all thought, all of my twisted sense of humour, was gone. Just the sensation of Steven’s palm curved against my balls as his mouth tightened on me. Not enough to cause any discomfort—God, no—but my breath caught somewhere in the back of my throat and no matter which words I mouthed, no sound emerged. Steven sucked me so deep I thought I was going to come then and there but just as he got me to the edge, he loosened his grip and the only sound in the room was the wet suction as he pulled back, and my heavy breathing. “Steven.” He looked up and I screwed my eyes shut. This, I hadn’t wanted. But I’d said his name so what else could he do? So I threw my head back and said it. Come on, Blackman. Don’t freak out now. Not when you’re this close. “Please.” I nearly came when he flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of my cock. I couldn’t stop my hips lifting off the settee; I just wanted his mouth on me, but Steven eased me back with that one hand on my hip. The other, he wrapped around the base of my cock and covered me with his mouth. I managed to swallow back enough air to just breathe, because what Steven did with his tongue cut off all ability to speak. I still had my fingers tangled in his hair, but I just followed his movements—I had no control over what he did. Steven moved at whatever speed he www.total-e-bound.com

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pleased, bringing me close to the edge a number of times before drawing back so that every time the voice in the back of my mind said don’t let him stop, don’t let him stop, please don’t let him stop, I half-expected him to do just that. And when I came—when he made me, or let me, whatever—the only warning I got was the way my hand contracted in his hair, pulling at him. My hips jerked up but he didn’t stop sucking or working at me with his tongue until my silent gasps found something of a voice and I whimpered. My spine melted and I fucking whimpered. Blackman, you pussy. I could have laughed. Steven lifted his head. Licked his lips. If I hadn’t come already, that gesture alone would have made me. I loosened my grip on him then dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Fuck.” “I take it that was a compliment?” Steven pulled himself up onto the settee again. “Yeah.” Lifting my hands from my face, I widened my eyes and sniffed. Nope. My eyes weren’t watering. Definitely not. But it had been a spectacular blowjob. “Hadn’t you better…” He leaned closer, grinning. And the bastard ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, still maintaining a superior smirk as he did so. “Tuck yourself in?” “Yeah. Gimme a chance to…” “Come back down to Earth?” I righted myself, zipped up my jeans, fiddled with my belt. Tried to convince myself my hands weren’t shaking, but I caught Steven’s eye and he smothered a laugh, having seen my unsteadiness. “You cocky shit.” “I didn’t hear you complaining.” “No, I wouldn’t, would I? That was…” He lifted his eyebrows in expectation. I decided to say nothing. Didn’t want to stroke his ego any more than I had already. And that thought sparked off a whole series of images in my brain I really didn’t need to think of. “Whadaya wanna do now?” I glanced sideways.


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Steven grinned. Looked like he was thinking the very same things we shouldn’t. “Still got plenty of time.” The grin stayed plastered to his face, even as he winked. I glanced at the clock. “Hmm,” was all I said, and I looked back at him. I could have asked what he had in mind, but it was pretty damn obvious. Fuck it, I decided, knowing I’d regret it later. I’ll worry about the consequences tomorrow.


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Chapter Six

My back thudded against the wall, forcing my breath out of me in a painful whoosh. I barely had time to register an old coffee mug full of pens and pencils on the bookcase beside me rattle with the impact before Steven was on me again. Hands on my neck, cradling my jaw and panting in between desperate kisses. “Glad to see you don’t have a problem kissing a guy who’s just sucked your cock,” he growled against my jaw, in between nipping at me. It didn’t hurt. It made my skin tingle. “Doesn’t seem”—and my hands were in his hair again—“like I’ve got much choice.” “No, you don’t.” Steven’s breath warmed the skin on my neck and managed to make me shiver at the same time. “Be a shame to waste the fact we have the house to ourselves for another…” He looked over his shoulder at the wall clock. “Hour. Hour and a quart—” We both jumped when the phone rang. Steven shrugged it off and turned back to me, while I remained tense. “Ignore it,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me again. “But it might be…” I pulled away so I could take a breath, always essential when trying to speak. “Important.” “As important as—?” Steven groaned when I pushed my weight off the wall, then stood back. “Fine, fine.” I fancied it was being so distracted by me that made him stumble on his way over to the phone table. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is. Then…” He pointed at me, needing to say no more, before he picked up the phone. “Hello?” I wished we’d unplugged the phone but then I hadn’t thought anything like this would happen and besides, I was too anal to—huh. Anal. Yeah, that was— “Oh. Hi Gary, we—you what? Oh.” Steven paled as he looked across the room at me. I neared him, creeping, as if Gary would hear me from the other end of the phone line. “We were just about to head out ourselves.” I lifted my eyebrows and waited for an explanation, if Steven could fit one into the conversation. “Um, an old friend of mine just rang. Ten minutes ago. Yeah. Invited us to…yeah. And as Kit was here too, they said…” www.total-e-bound.com

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I pointed at myself, mouthed the word “Me?” What the hell was Steven getting me into? “Well, it wouldn’t be right, y’know? So when will you—? Oh, we’ll probably be out by then. Shame. Gemma staying over? Right. We’ll make ourselves scarce for a bit then.” He chuckled, in a conspiratorial all-boys-together way. “Okay. See ya when I see ya. Bye.” Steven hung up and looked at me for but a second, eyes wide, before doubling over, gripping his knees in both hands. “Fuck. Fuck. What did I go and say that for?” “What’s going on? They coming home early?” “Yeah.” He straightened up again. “Said the film was crap so they gave up and walked out. Guess that’s what Gemma gets for letting Gary choose. Anyway, they asked if we wanted to meet them down the pub so I said a mate had called and asked us out, so…” “So?” I prompted. I knew it. I fucking knew it. I’d had the blowjob to end all blowjobs but was still in want of some cock and wasn’t going to get laid tonight after all. “…we kinda have to go out.” “What?” “Yeah. I know.” Steven’s shoulders sank. “I brushed Gary off by saying it wouldn’t be right to bring him and Gemma along because my friend had only extended the invitation to us two, and he said he and Gemma would just come home, then.” “So, we have to be out of the house—” “…or just on our way out when they get back, otherwise it’ll look like we were just brushing them off. Which we were, really.” “…as an excuse to have some time to…” “Fuck.” Steven shrugged. “Or not, as the case may be.” “Right.” I took one step closer to the doorway. “We have to get out of the house, then?” “Or have some serious ‘splainin’ to do when Gary and Gemma get back. Which will be in about…” He flicked a glance at the wall clock. “Ten minutes.” “Fuck. Right. I’ll go get my coat then.” “I left mine upstairs. I’ll go… You wait here. In the hall, I mean. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” I grabbed my coat from the hook in the hall; I’d left my wallet and mobile phone in the pockets so had everything I needed. Seconds later, Steven came barrelling down the stairs again zipping up his leather jacket, the one with several hundred pockets. “Right. Let’s go.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Where exactly are we going?” “Anywhere that isn’t here.” “You know, it would have been a lot easier if you’d just said you didn’t feel like going out tonight.” “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have had the chance to…” Steven grinned as he pulled the front door shut behind us. “You’re not gonna get the chance to anyway, are you?” “Wanna bet?” He kept walking and I merely followed along. Maybe he was taking me to one of the local pubs after all. At least I’d get a stiff one of some sort tonight. The thought made me snort with laughter, and we caught each other’s eyes. “Seriously.” Hands in jeans pockets, he nudged me with his elbow. “I came prepared. What do you think I went upstairs for?” “Presumably your jacket.” “You really are thick, Blackman, you know that?” I shrugged, hunching my shoulders against the biting wind. “You do have somewhere in mind, don’t you? I need to get out of this cold.” “Pussy,” he threw at me, and before I could answer back, he stopped, right in front of me. I nearly trod on his shoes but managed to back up just a shade. “Yes, I’ve got somewhere in mind.” “It better be somewhere nearby; I’ll be freezing outside. I need a drink—” “Kit.” He’d spoken in such a don’t-fuck-with-me manner I had to shut up and listen. There was still light enough to see him even without the streetlamps burning; the sun had set but day hadn’t quite faded. And he was half-smirking in that way he had. The way that made me stare at his mouth, and he knew it. “Follow me.” He tilted his head in the direction he’d been walking, turned, and carried on without looking back, knowing I’d do as he said. “You ever fooled around outside?” It was just as well there was no-one else nearby. I was out, yeah, but not shamelessly, flamboyantly in-your-face about it. “Um, fooled around, yeah, but not…” I caught up with him and our footsteps kept time with each other. His breaths, I noted, became shallower. Maybe nerves, maybe anticipation. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Not…?” he prompted. “You know.” “Hmm.” He nodded with a discreet smile—probably the only discreet thing about him this evening, and kept looking ahead. “Are you trying to get me arrested?” “You’d be no use to me behind bars, now, would you? Unless I was your cellmate.” “Ugh, now that’s bringing to mind a whole buttload of images involving not bending over to pick up the soap in the shower.” “Interesting you should use the word ‘buttload’.” “Steven, you’re…” I shook my head, not even bothering to finish the sentence. When he was in this sort of mood—playful, flirtatious, wait-‘til-I-get-you-alone—there was no point arguing with him, I knew that much already. “Never mind.” “Yeah, you know it. Just be a good boy and do as you’re told.” “Fuck you—” “I told you. I never bottom.” Steven laughed, and I had to join in. As well as curiosity, I’d been infected by his mood, his sense of daring. Maybe it was the fact the sun had set and the light had almost faded, dyeing everything in subtle shades of dusk with a sodium halo. “Come on. In here.” He slipped behind rusty wrought iron gates separating civilisation from a ruined building I’d passed a million times on my way to and from work but never paid much attention to. “In there?” Surprise at what he was suggesting choked the laughter at the back of my throat, but dutifully I shadowed him. Closely, as the farther we got from the street, the less light there was by which to keep track of him. “What’s wrong with it?” Some of the fading light glinted off the blackest parts of his hair, reflecting its shine. And I never noticed how shiny a guy’s hair looked unless my hands were tangled in it. “Kit?” He looked back over his shoulder, sure-footed even when not keeping a close eye on the path he took. He’d obviously been here before. “It’s hardly homely, is it?” It was an old abandoned mansion house, set back a fair way from the street and I’d never seen any life there in all the time I’d lived in the area. It could have been converted into a block of flats, a library, a medical centre, anything, but had simply been left to stand, only put to use by roaming animals and horny gay guys with nowhere left to go. www.total-e-bound.com

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“It’s still better than being disturbed by a housemate who should have stayed out for quite a while yet.” “How do you know about this place?” “Everybody who lives round here knows about the manse,” he shot back. “Come on. The front door’s usually open.” “Yeah, I knew it was there, not exactly what it was—” “I told you. A manse. An old, abandoned spooky manse, and no-one knows what happened to the previous owner.” I guessed his voice was supposed to be spooky, but he just sounded like he was trying desperately not to laugh. “You sound like you’ve been here before.” “I have.” “Oh yeah?” “Not for that, Blackman. I’m not that desperate to get laid. Well.” He stopped, turned around and I walked into him with precision timing. As if he’d planned it. And he grabbed the front of my jacket so I couldn’t back away. “Not usually, anyway.” “There could be homeless guys hiding in there.” “Nah. It’s usually empty for some reason.” “Except for when you’re in there?” “You ever play dares? Just for a laugh? Have a few drinks and dare your mates to go into the local haunted house?” “How old are you, Steven? Twelve?” “Okay, I haven’t done that for years, but this place has been here for an absolute age. Used to go to school nearby and sometimes we’d bunk off and spend the afternoon drinking in the grounds.” “You’re a delinquent, Kenton, you know that?” “And proud of it.” He still didn’t let go. I caught a flash of his smile before he leant forwards and kissed me. God, I’d missed that. It had only been, what? Minutes? A short time, anyway, since the last kiss, but still too long. “There’s still furniture in there, too. You should see it. It’s like the rapture occurred or something. No-one lives here, but—” “You are not fucking me over some abandoned rat-bag furniture even some homeless case wouldn’t want to piss on.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Oh, come on, baby.” He shifted his hips from side to side, letting me know exactly what was about to happen. “You just don’t appreciate the effort I make for you anymore.” I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. Again. I hated the way he kept making me do that. “It’s better than throwing you down on the ground in a park somewhere.” Steven kissed me again, slower this time, and deeper, and inched me back and back and back, until my back hit a wall. “Are you sure about that?” “At the risk of getting arrested? I’m sure you’re a fine piece of ass, Blackman, but if I’m ever cuffed, it’ll be at a time and place of my choosing, not by Her Majesty’s Constabulary.” “Not even if they have big truncheons?” “No-one will come.” “Are you sure about that, too?” “You’re getting far too cheeky for my liking, Kit.” “Better do something about it, then.” His hands were at my belt, more sure than mine would be if I’d tried to undo it. Maybe desperation carried him through, and it had to be desperation that made his breath hot, rapid and shallow against the side of my neck. “Turn around.” “What—” “I said turn around.” “Here?” He nodded. “Here.” “Steven, this is…” It was an outside wall of an out-of-the-way wing of an abandoned manse I’d bypassed too many times to count. Sure, we were a ways from the street and afforded some degree of privacy, but… “It’s about time you learned what it felt like to be fucked outside,” he growled against my neck. “Now turn. The fuck. Around.” When he spoke to me like that, the only thing I could do was turn around. The brickwork my hands fell against was rough, age-worn and liable to leave me with a few scratches. I groped around for a ledge or something to hold onto while Steven struggled behind me. A windowsill, any kind of buttress to this outside wall, but the size of the house


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and distance from the streetlights and the fact Steven was seconds away from fucking me meant I couldn’t— “Wait.” I gulped, and Steven, though one hand was still on my hip, stopped. “You didn’t… That was what you went upstairs for?” “Told you.” He panted a couple of times, breathless with the same anticipation and excitement I felt, no doubt. “I came prepared.” “And you can see your way around in the dark?” “I know where my pockets are. I know what’s in ‘em.” The sharp hiss of a zip rent the air, up until now silent but for the distance hum of traffic. Leather protested as Steven reached into one of his pockets. “You’re not seriously thinking of doing this standing up, are you?” “Sure I am. Unless you want to kneel on the ground?” “When I can’t see anything?” I looked over my shoulder, but this far from civilisation caught only his outline, a vague silhouette. “Use the light on your mobile phone. Check there’s nothing there. On the grass would be easier.” “No fucking chance.” “Then you…” Steven’s cold hand came into contact with my skin and I barely suppressed a yelp. “Will just have to put up with not seeing a thing and feeling it instead.” A well-lubricated finger worked its tip inside me and this time I couldn’t stop myself crying out. Screwing my eyes shut, I realised I didn’t need to see a thing. All I needed was that sharp sting when Steven forced another finger inside, up to the knuckle, through the initial tightness. He moved his fingertips apart and I winced. Only the first few times, though. When he crooked his fingers and hit me in the right spot the gasps turned to moans. And I needed more. “God, you are going to be so fucking tight when I get inside you,” Steven murmured, and when he spoke like that I barely gave a damn whether we were discovered or not. It wasn’t likely, but still possible. And I just didn’t care. “I can think of better places.” He slid his fingers out, leaving me empty and wanting. “But this’ll have to do for now.”


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My eyes watered and this was why I hated fucking face to face. This was why I liked the dark. Being assfucked in the grounds of an abandoned manse, sleazy and furtive? Fuck, yeah—that was exactly why I loved it. “Move your feet back a bit. Wider apart.” Steven shoved my jeans further down my hips and I’d rarely felt more used. I heard the tear of foil, the sound of rubber on skin as he rolled the condom into place. Another zip, the lube bottle again, the snap as he closed it and, God, when his cock touched me I nearly lost it myself. Both hands against the wall, the brickwork digging into my palms and me, helpless to resist or move at all as he pushed in, grunting against the awkward angle and position. I shivered, but not because of the cold. “Jesus. Fuck, this is…” Steven groaned as he pushed in another inch. “Are you all right?” “Yeah, just…” I gulped back air, finally giving in to desperation. “Just fucking do it, would you?” “There.” His final push was almost a shove, violent, and painful for a moment, but he stopped. “You sure you’re all right?” Winded, I could do nothing but claw at the wall, unsteady on my feet until Steven’s hands on my hips reminded me I had to say something. “Yeah, I…” I sniffed, all the while searching for the right answer. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “Definitely?” “Yes.” “Good. ‘Cause I’m not sure…” Moving back a little, he hissed in a long, slow breath. “Not sure I can hold off much longer.” “You’ve only just…” Steven’s inside me. Fucking hell, Steven’s inside me. “I know, but…” Slower than before, he eased back in, gripping my hips to hold me at the right angle, or as close to it as we could get. “Fuck. This isn’t…” “What? Isn’t it working?” I tried to look over my shoulder but the angle was all wrong. “Yeah. It is. For God’s sake, don’t move, that’s just perfect. Don’t. Oh God…” Steven’s hips worked fasted against me, his speech ever more stilted and uncontrolled. “This isn’t the way I planned.” “You planned this?”


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“Not like… God, I can’t wait.” His fingers dug even deeper into my hips and I knew I’d be bruised in the morning. Another thing I didn’t care about, though I knew I probably should. But then, all I wanted was Steven’s cock as deep inside me as he could force it this way. I had little ability to move my hips but made the best attempt I could to angle them back onto him with each sharp, shallow—or too shallow for my liking—thrust. One last jerk forward with a strangulated gasp, and Steven managed to utter one single word. “Fuck.” A few seconds of gasping before he lifted his hands off me and staggered, pulling himself out. “Jesus, that was…” Though my knees shook as I fell against the wall and twisted round to face him, I still managed to pull my shorts and jeans back into place without losing my footing. He got rid of the condom and righted his clothing with as little grace and assurance as I then had. “I hadn’t planned it to be that quick.” “No.” I waited to catch my breath before speaking again. “Just as well you were; I didn’t think I’d be able to hold myself up much longer.” “God.” He ran both hands over his face and through his hair. “I can’t fucking believe we’ve just done that.” He turned to look at me and laughed, but didn’t touch me. We both needed the wall to keep us standing and a moment or two to keep us apart. “I don’t…” The brightness of his teeth, the whites of his eyes, caught a glint of light from somewhere and I imagined what his smile would look like in daylight. Artificial light. Anywhere but here. “You were the one who led me here, Kenton. You led me astray.” “You fucking wanted it, you slut.” “Fuck you.” “I’ve already told you—” “You never bottom.” I nodded. “Yeah. And I’ve got the sore arse to prove it.” We fell silent for a few seconds, and I craned my neck, looked up. Near complete darkness now. We’d have to return to civilisation and make some attempt to look innocent. Like we hadn’t just been fucking somewhere we could have, in theory, easily been caught. “You know,” I began. “What?” “Don’t take this the wrong way.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Christ, you’re not gonna tell me I’m a crap shag, are you?” “A bit quicker than I would have liked. A bit more vertical.” “Fuck you, Blackman.” He punched me in the arm. “You just did.” “Next time I’ll take my time over it.” I shuddered. Next time. Whatever had been unsettled in my stomach came to rest when he said that. “Listen, I need a stiff one.” Steven snorted with laughter. “Am I not enough for you, now?” “Think about it. You told Gary we were going down the pub, right?” “Yeah, I did.” “It’ll look a bit suspicious if we go back home stone cold sober, without even the smell of beer on our breath, won’t it?” “Ah.” He nodded. “I see where you’re going with this.” “It’s our sworn duty to”—I swiped my hands together to rid them of brick dust and grit—“make it look like you haven’t just been screwing me up against a wall, and we’ve only been working on getting pissed all evening.” “Blackman, I have to say this.” “Although I hope I haven’t got dust and dirt all over me now—that’ll be pretty hard to explain away, although I could just say I got so drunk I fell over.” “Yeah, and your zip broke and my cock accidentally went up your arse.” I tutted, shook my head, and wondered if he’d be able to make out the disapproving expression on my face, which wasn’t disapproving at all. “Anyway, yeah, I had to say, I knew there was a reason I liked you. Two, actually.” When he failed to enlighten me after a second, I prompted him with a simple “Oh?” and pushed my weight off the wall, readying to leave. “Your incredibly tight arse which I fully intend to fuck again soon, and properly this time.” He mirrored my stance and laughed, possibly at the involuntary shudder which ran up my spine. “And?” “And your shameless attempt to get me drunk. It’s working, by the way. First round’s on you. Come on, let’s go find a pub.”


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Chapter Seven

“Oh God. I think I’m dying.” Steven cradled his head in both hands, leaning his elbows on the kitchen table. “What the hell has Kit done to you?” Gary put his cereal bowl on the table and pulled up a seat, and Steven groaned. “Don’t blame me. I’ve done nothing.” Gingerly I flicked on the kettle. I was just as fragile as Steven that morning, although not for the same reason. The poor, delicate flower had a hangover whereas I had a migraine blooming at the nape of my neck. Spidery fingers of pain reached up the back of my head and in an hour or two, they’d turn to iron and crush my skull in their vicelike grip. Completely unconnected to the amount of alcohol I’d drunk the previous evening, this was just sheer bad luck, fucked-up timing. I’d tried cutting out alcohol before. Dairy, caffeine, even chocolate, but nothing had worked. When a migraine shacked up inside my head, there was very little I could do with it but throw painkillers at the problem and lie down until it got bored and moved out again. Maybe, just maybe, I could literally knock it on the head with some horse tranquilisers or whatever the hell my GP had prescribed for me. Those, a mug of coffee, and a day in bed. Bill wouldn’t be pleased when I phoned in sick, but then he rarely was. He’d never give me shit, though. I was too valuable to the team. Valuable as in, I bloody carried them most of the time. “Whenever someone else is pissed off, it’s usually your fault.” Gary shovelled cornflakes into his mouth like there was no tomorrow before jabbing at Steven with his spoon. “So what’s he done?” “He’s hung over, you dick,” I put in. “You can’t blame me for the jars he threw back last night.” “Didn’t you try to stop him?” “You think I can stop Steven Kenton doing anything when he’s determined?” I could have kicked myself, especially when Steven shot a look over his shoulder. One of those looks. Bleary-eyed and laden with I will get you for that. I hadn’t even realised what I’d said. The double entendre wasn’t intentional and only Steven would see one in my words, but see one he would, and he’d play with me. www.total-e-bound.com

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Or rather, he would have, had he not been so groggy. “I’ve seen what you’re like down the local. You don’t consider it a good night out unless everyone else present is unconscious, dying, or vomiting.” “I feel like I’m all three at once,” Steven groaned. “God, I swear, I’m in so much pain even my hair hurts.” “Pussy,” I muttered. Taking a guy’s cock up my arse gave me the right to gloat. Although, given the pincers gripping the back of my neck, I wouldn’t be gloating for long. “You want to try having a migraine.” “Sure it’s not just a hangover?” Gary asked, frowning in something approximating concern. “You would have drunk as much as Lucy Lightweight here, wouldn’t you?” “Yeah. I did.” “Probably more,” Steven murmured. “How do you know you’re not hung over, then?” “Migraines creep up on you. With me, they start at the back of my neck usually, and last for hours. Days, sometimes. Hangovers? I bet you woke up instantly feeling like shit.” “True. I did.” “And you know why you’re ill. Me? I have to put up with this crap whenever my body decides to rebel against me. This is like being hung over without the pleasure of being drunk first.” “You were drunk, though.” “And now I’m sober, and not hung over. Why? Because I drank plenty of water last night, and you, I reckon, are dehydrated.” “You sound so smug.” “Give it a few hours and you’ll be able to gloat. Once you’ve had a few gallons of caffeine, you’ll be right as rain. Me? I’ll get progressively worse. By lunchtime I’ll be ready to write my own will.” “I’ll have a priest sent round to administer the last rites,” Gary commented, pushing his chair away from the table with a screech that grated on my nerves and made Steven wince. “Tell him to call in to my office while you’re at it. I’m not even Catholic but if I’m gonna get through the pile of paperwork that’s due to appear on my desk, I’ll need divine intervention,” he said.


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“Speaking of which, I think I’ll phone in sick while I’m still able to hold myself upright.” The part of me immediately behind my left eyeball had started to throb. Not a good sign. “Now who’s the pussy?” Steven sniffed. “I still managed to have a shower this morning, even though it felt like fuckin’ bullets were coming out of the thing instead of water.” “I can still work from home if needs be. Bill knows that.” I grimaced at the stabby eyepain. Yep, definitely a migraine. “I still don’t get why I’m hung over and you’re not. It’s not bloody fair.” “What God gives with one hand, he takes away with the other. Besides, you mixed your drinks as I recall. Never mix grape and grain? At least I stuck to beer all night.” “I’ll leave you two ladies to bitch at each other. Early start for me.” Gary threw back the rest of his morning coffee, thudded the mug onto the table, laughed at the pained reaction he got from both of us, and left. Bastard slammed the door on his way out, too. Standing and waiting for the kettle to boil was too much for me, so I gave myself the refuge of a seat at the kitchen table. Steven’s proximity played around with my blood pressure a little, but as I was already feeling like shit anyway, I didn’t see what harm it could do. Hell, maybe looking at him would make me feel better. “You really phoning in sick?” Steven ventured. I nodded, immediately wishing I hadn’t. “In all seriousness, I think I’ll have to. You must have seen the difference with your sister, right? She gets migraines, you said. They’re nothing like hangovers.” “Yep. I guess. She said they’re sharper than other kinds of headaches? In one exact place, usually? Behind her eye or whatever.” “I get them like that too. The pain creeps up the back of my neck and sticks behind one eye. I know what a hangover’s like—all over thudding, cured by drinking plenty and staying out of direct sunlight. And without the nausea. A migraine? Jesus, if it’s a bad one, it’s intense.” “Maybe I should take the day off to look after you.” Steven spoke quietly, then lifted his head. Red-rimmed eyes searched my face for any reaction, and I wasn’t sure which kind to give. www.total-e-bound.com

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“You have experience in that sort of thing?” “Only with nursing Tiff through a bad one. She’s got her two to look after her now, though.” “Two what? You have other brothers?” “No.” Steven laughed, and for some reason I was glad to see him smile in the middle of the pain he must have been in. “Her two boyfriends.” My eyebrows shot up and the sudden tug on my forehead, the widening of my eyes letting in more damn daylight, instantly made me regret the action. “Yeah. She’s in a…how would you say it? Poly set-up with those two, Jason and Isaac. Polyamorous, they call it.” “Oh, yeah. You mentioned them, didn’t you?” “Ah, so you were listening? She just doesn’t care what anyone thinks, God love her. She’s always telling people, our parents are so proud; I’m a whore and my brother’s a raging queer.” “Not so raging, from what I can see.” Even in our mutual delicate state, I could still leer. Could still appreciate his good looks. “Less raging, more dog-rough.” “Not in any state to look after me then,” I whispered. We caught each other’s eyes and something hung in the atmosphere between us, unsaid. Or maybe we each waited for the other to say it first, and lost our bottle. “Nah, probably not,” Steven said, and his eyes narrowed momentarily. Maybe studying me, maybe just flinching in reaction to another hammer-blow inside his head. “Although I can’t believe you’re seriously considering taking the day off work. I don’t see why I should suffer if you get to bunk off.” “Ah, Bill’s understanding, underneath it all.” I waved my hand while I still had some semblance of hand-eye coordination. “A hangover is a simple matter of being dehydrated. You get better as the day progresses if you drink enough water and coffee and juice and anything else you can lay your hands on. I’d rather have one of those than a migraine. My head?” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Fuck, I wish I could get a head transplant sometimes.” “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Steven’s hand twitched on the worn surface of the table and for a moment I thought he was reaching out to me. By the time I’d realised it didn’t www.total-e-bound.com

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matter, there was no-one else in the house to discover us, he’d frozen again, or at least withdrawn. “Yeah. I like to be left alone when I feel one of these fuckers coming on. I hope I’ll be okay. I’ll skull as many painkillers as my stomach can take and hopefully sleep the worst of it off. You need any more coffee? I’m gonna make a fresh lot, so…?” “Nah, I’ve had three mugs already.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew a pair of shades and slipped them on. I told myself it was my need for a drink, some painkillers and a lie-down which made my heart skip but constructing a wall of denial was as futile as fighting the damn pinching at my neck, the throbbing behind one eye. Oh, sure, I could hit them with medication and lessen their effects. Maybe. If I was lucky. But the combined pain would only dissipate completely in its own sweet time. Likewise, this thing, this crush on Steven—and, God, how I hated that juvenile way of describing the fact I just wanted his cock in me again—would only fade when it had had its fill of eating away at me day and night. Complaining about being so hung over he felt as if even his teeth were on fire, he was still shit hot. Oh, he couldn’t have been in that much pain or he wouldn’t have even managed to pull himself out of bed, but for someone who thought he looked ‘dog-rough’, he sure had my attention. Even a little ragged around the edges. Hell, that only enhanced his appeal to me. The messy black curls, still damp from the shower he’d earlier whinged about, invited my touch. “I better get off,” he said. “I know the feeling.” He caught my eye—or at least, I thought he did, from behind those shades—and rose, steadily enough for a man who felt as awful as he claimed to. “Never, ever take me drinking on a work night again, Blackman.” “Hey.” I raised my palms in feigned innocence. “You could have said no.” “Are you suggesting I wanted it all along?” The slow-emerging grin lit up his face like the rising sun and my God, he might have claimed to look and feel dog-rough but I didn’t think he’d ever looked better than he did at that moment. A man who’d fucked me, and who was still willing to flirt. Oh boy, it would be so easy to get caught up in something that would eventually hurt.


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“Like I said before, I doubt it would be possible to make Steven Kenton do something he didn’t want to do.” “You better believe it. Well, look after yourself. Some of us have to work today—” “Hey, I will too no doubt; it’s just that—” “You have the advantage of being able to work from home.” “Which also means I get Bill calling up every-bloody-when, asking me to take care of one meaningless task or another just because I have a laptop and I take my work home with me.” “If he calls you back today, just ignore it.” “Yeah, think I will. Sure you won’t have another coffee?” “Nah. I’m gonna head off. Look after yourself, yeah?” he said again, and I murmured something in reply, allowing my gaze to follow him out of the room, but the throbbing in my cock would have to wait. It was being overpowered by the throbbing in my head. Steven pulled the door shut behind him, not slamming it like he usually did, and the gratitude at his thoughtfulness made me laugh. Of course he wouldn’t slam the door, but it wasn’t out of concern for me. The poor guy was hung over. Caffeine. I needed caffeine and painkillers. And bed. But first, a call to Bill to break the bad news that he’d be a man down today, the prospect of which made me feel almost as nauseated as the migraine did itself. I always felt like such a fake when I pulled a sickie, but what else could I have done? A day in bed spent trying not to die, first of all, then trying to work. The combination should, in theory, keep my mind off Steven. And my dick out of my right hand.


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Chapter Eight

As predicted, Bill had grumbled a bit when I’d phoned in, but accepted it in the end. He knew deep down how much work I did at home, and my health complaint was genuine. He hadn’t liked it, though. I left my phone switched on, on my bedside table, just in case of emergencies. If the landline rang I’d leave it to go onto voicemail and if the caller was that keen to get in touch with me, they could send a text, or ring my mobile. If they dared. Bill, for instance, knew better than to call me when I had a migraine. If he kept me from sleeping off the effects of either pain and sickness, or the wonder-drug Imigran, my recovery would be delayed and he’d have to cope without me in the office. So I’d told him. And so I had peace and quiet to recuperate. While I waited for the medication to kick in and for the throbbing all over my skull to wear off, there was nothing to do but lie there and think of Steven. A welcome distraction from the curse Mother Nature had very kindly laid upon me, and—I reasoned with a subdued laugh—it might have worked out to my benefit, medically speaking. If the migraine was related to problems with my blood pressure behind one eye, the fact thinking about being assfucked by Steven the night before made my dick hard meant the blood flow was diverted somewhere south of my boxers’ waistband. Sometimes I experienced visual disturbances or olfactory hallucinations—smelling burnt toast when there was none in the kitchen, for instance. But hearing things? That I’d never experienced. So when I thought I heard the front door click, my heart skipped and I lifted my head off the pillow, suddenly alert. Though my thought processes were made sluggish by pain and the medication that— thank God—was doing its job, I nevertheless managed to figure out a burglar wouldn’t have had a key to the front door. So it had to be Gary or Steven coming back from work unusually early.


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Lifting my mobile off the bedside table, I clicked a button to make the screen light up, pleased when the LCD glow in the curtained murk of the room didn’t make me wince in agony. Lunchtime. Much earlier than I’d thought. My sleep-fogged mind had had its perception of time messed with as well. Footsteps tapped up the stairs, the mustn’t-thud-too-loudly ones of a man trying not to disturb me. But then, why come home at all? Unless he’d forgotten something, and that wasn’t like Gary, so maybe Steven— Two short raps at my door before it creaked open. Again, I lifted my head off the pillow, muttering, “Fuck,” as I did so. “Still sore?” Steven grinned, and I let myself drop back again. Just the person I wanted to see. Just the person I didn’t want to see. “Yeah.” The boner from earlier had gone down, and without any five-fingered help from me. I hadn’t fancied lying in my own spunk and getting out of bed again to go get cleaned up was more than my fucked-up sense of balance could have coped with. So I’d killed the desire for orgasm with a little magic pill, a few hours’ broken sleep and the promise to myself that I’d crack one off as soon as I was able to stand in the shower without the spray making me wince. “Came back to see how you were.” The door clicked shut again, with Steven on this side of it. “Fine.” “Liar. Are you really?” “No.” “How bad is it?” “Still thumping a bit. Not as sharp as it could be.” “Medication’s working, then?” “Think so.” I ran a hand through my hair and gave the matter some thought. A monumental operation given how slow-to-react my brain was when dealing with reason and logic. “You didn’t have to come home to check up on me.” “No. I didn’t have to.” He approached the bed but not to sit on or crouch by the near side.


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The mattress dipped behind me and my stomach failed to turn over. A good sign. Pained and sluggish, but no longer in danger of throwing up. The drugs were working and chances were I’d feel human before dinner this evening. If I managed to eat anything, that was. “Just felt like checking up on you.” “You sound as if you’re a lot better yourself.” “Yeah. I am.” Twin thuds, muted as he—I guessed—kicked his shoes off onto the carpet. The mattress dipped again as his weight shifted and he curled himself against my back, above the duvet. His weight and presence warmed me without being overbearing and I let myself relax against him. “Is this all right?” he asked, slipping his arm around my waist, probably not wanting to cause me any discomfort in what he imagined was my delicate state. I wanted to say no. Blame it on feeling under the weather, rather than my reluctance to get close to anyone. But the dying migraine and victorious medication must have been playing with my common sense too. “Yeah.” “Seems like I’ve recovered faster than you have.” “I told you. Hangovers fade. Migraines just get worse unless you catch ‘em quick enough.” “Kill it with medication?” He spoke in a whisper, which almost made me laugh. He’d never be a nurse. He looked too devilish to be a ministering angel. “Think I just about managed it. Still really dozy though. Feel spaced out.” “Damn.” Steven tutted, a low click very close behind my ear. If he lay any closer I’d be able to feel his breath on the back of my neck. The thought made me shudder. “Better not take advantage of you,” he went on, still quiet, but with laughter dancing at the edges of his voice now. “Got a funny way of checking up on me, Steven.” “I’ve told you before, Christopher. A Kenton hand-job. Stuff of legend. It worked before.” “God damn it, you’re all heart.” “Tell me you didn’t feel better after that time I made you come.” Just like that, I was hard again. The manipulative bastard. God, I loved it. “All these years I’ve been relying on painkillers, caffeine and bed rest.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“That’s where you’ve been going wrong.” “I didn’t think you got Kenton hand-jobs on the National Health S—” The rest of whatever I’d been about to say—probably nothing important—caught in my throat. He hadn’t even touched me yet but his arm lifting off my waist was enough to make me jump. “Carry on. Don’t let me stop you.” “How am I supposed to speak when I don’t know what you’re going to do next?” “I think you know very well.” Though he’d just come in from outside, his hand was nevertheless warm on my back. I still shivered, though, when he got to my waist. Hipbone. Waistband. “I didn’t just come back to check up on you.” “No?” “Someone’s been thinking about me.” “What makes you think that’s for you?” “Because you’ve been too sleepy to watch your Supernatural DVDs. Gotta be for me.” Steven wrapped his hand around my cock and stroked slowly, not even bothering to push my shorts out of the way. He wasn’t trying to make me come. Not yet. Just touching me. “Oh God.” I didn’t even have to tell my hips to move, they just automatically pushed against his grip, forcing my cock through it. “I shouldn’t…” “What?” “I shouldn’t feel like this.” I could have laughed. “You’re taking advantage of an invalid.” “Want me to stop?” “Fuck no.” “Turn over then.” “Steven, just—don’t…” How the fuck did he do this to me? Get inside my head, make me hard without even being in the room, then instantly resurrect my not-yet-I’m-too-fragile boner as soon as he laid his hand on me? “Just turn the fuck over and touch me, will you?” It wasn’t a polite request. I followed orders by turning over—gingerly—and resettling myself, waiting for him to get his hand on my cock again. He frowned in obvious concentration. “Don’t look at me,” I told him. “I feel dog-rough.”


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“You look okay to me. Well, you look like death warmed up, but I still would.” And he burst out laughing, before smothering the sound and leaning down to kiss me. “I was just gonna come back and check up on you, you know? But…” He half-shrugged, an awkward manoeuvre while lying down, and I took the opportunity to lean my forehead against his shoulder. I might have looked like I was nuzzling into his neck. I didn’t like being watched at the best of times, but now, while illness would no doubt have bled me of any colour? Closed curtains made the room dim, but enough light got through to make his features clear so the same would have applied to me. A sleep-blurred pallor plus my hatred of being looked at while another guy touched me. “You sure this is all right?” he whispered against my hair, shoving and pushing and kicking the covers out of our way. “Doesn’t seem to me like I have a choice.” I wondered if he’d blame my shaking hands on my temporary illness, rather than nerves. There was more than a little wonder there, too. They said this sort of thing didn’t land on your doorstep, but it had. Literally. Complete with black curly hair just right for grabbing hold of as I kissed him. “I don’t have to stop then?” “You’d better not.” But it was Steven who whimpered next, a quiet, momentary loss of control, a breath through gritted teeth when I pulled his buckle open and went for his zip. “God. Fuck. Kit.” Even feeling the way I did, I couldn’t resist preening inwardly. I hadn’t even touched his cock and I’d already reduced him to monosyllabic encouragements and fighting to take a breath. “Just…gotta…” “Hmm?” I threatened to nibble at his bottom lip, just sucked it as he broke the kiss, let him feel my teeth almost biting. I’d wanted to do that since I’d first seen his mouth. Actually, that was the second thing. The first thing I’d wanted to do was see what his lips looked like wrapped around my cock. “…touch you.” He pushed himself against me, like he was trying to fuck me through his clothes, but managed to haul my shorts out of the way. Somehow. One minute I was wearing them, the next they were halfway down my thighs. I could have pulled them off but whatever. Steven had his hand on my cock again. That was all that mattered. www.total-e-bound.com

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“You’re gonna put me off, you know,” I murmured against his neck, breathing him in. “Trying to… God, that’s…” “You like that?” “Lemme…your zip…” “Kit, just, fuck, we don’t have time. Just let me see you—oh God…” I felt the shudder run through him, arching his spine and pushing his hips against mine. He lay still for a moment and I held my breath, waited for him to make the next move. Steven let go of me, but only to pull his zip all the way down, shove his shorts out of the way. Then he was on me again like a desperate man. His tongue tasted of the countless mugs of coffee he’d had at work to help him sober up and rehydrate. There was the faintest taste of mint there too, and smoke. I had no idea who was touching who—we ended up tangled, lying on our sides, and the moment Steven ran his palm along the underside of my cock I knew I wouldn’t last long. Just his palm, no fingers wrapped around me, and it was one of the most erotic feelings I’d ever experience. He wanted to see me come and I needed to but that move was just about touching me for the sake of it, with no end result in mind. “You distracted me all morning at work.” Though our foreheads touched, our proximity throwing everything else in the room out of focus, I could still make out the curve of his lips, the blade of his cheekbone sharp with a barely-suppressed grin. “Nah, that was just the hangover.” His nearly-grin was infectious, and I laughed too. “Do that again. God, Steven, I—” I hissed in a breath and neither of us laughed now. “Need to come.” “And I needed to see it.” I hoped he wouldn’t pull away, try to watch; I couldn’t tell him how much I hated that, my loss of control witnessed. Anything to stop it happening. So I pushed myself against him and in the tangle of hands and fingers, our cocks touched and as soon as they did he grunted. Like the first push inside me last night. “Wish we had time for more,” he whispered. “Just shut up and—fuck, just like that—” My voice had become a whine or a whimper, too strangulated to continue, and the way Steven was grinding against me, his hand over mine, forcing us together, just about finished me off. “Gonna come.” His breath was warm—hot—against the side of my face. www.total-e-bound.com

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I buried my head in the curve of his shoulder, praying he wouldn’t make me move. Just give me one more minute, just let me come, let me come. The moisture between us was a combination of perspiration from hot, clammy hands and pre-cum from both of us, slick against our cocks and in between fumbling fingers. I couldn’t remember hearing anything hotter than his breaths getting shallower. There was something dirty about the closed curtains, the protesting mattress, the time of day. He shouldn’t have been here, we shouldn’t have been doing this, but he was and we were. “God. Fuck yes.” The last of my breath grunted out of me at the second my spine melted and I came, muttering against his shoulder, his neck, him. I think I said his name. I probably swore, or it could have been Steven’s voice I heard throwing a random profanity out into the room as he covered my hand in semen. He didn’t stop moving straight away—his hips slowed but every so often he juddered, and I heard his breath catch in his throat. “Oh God.” Steven leaned in, I thought to kiss me, but didn’t. Not yet. “Need. To get. My breath back.” “I…” I realised my hand was still moving. I didn’t want to stop and his hand still covered mine. “I needed that.” “You’re not the only one.” He laughed. “How’s your head now?” “Which one?” “Dirty bastard. Christ.” Still finding it difficult to breathe—I felt his heart rate against my bare chest, nearly as rapid as mine—he looked down at our hot, wet, sticky hands. “I’ve got cum on my fucking shirt. I need to get changed before I go back to work.” He caught my eye before looking down again and lacing his fingers through mine, not giving a damn about the mess we were in. “Really? You don’t think it would be a good idea to show up at the office with cum stains on your shirt?” “You’re one classy bastard, Blackman, you know that?” “Hey, I’m not the one who came back home in the middle of the day to wank off my housemate.” “You make it sound so sleazy.” “And it was an entirely mutual thing.”


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“Which is what made it so hot. And sleazy.” He grinned, finally disentangling his fingers from mine and falling onto his back. I pulled my shorts off completely and used them to wipe myself sort of clean. “That sure beats lying in bed feeling sorry for myself.” “You, sorry for yourself?” He turned his head on the pillow and a tangle of curls fell in front of his eyes. He did nothing to move them out of the way. “Hey, I’m an invalid. Or was.” “Better now?” “All better.” I stared up at the ceiling. As cold as it seemed at the time, I wondered when Steven would get up and go change, return to work. Not that I exactly wanted him to leave, but something about the situation made me uncomfortable. It had been a long time since I wanted someone this much. “Mostly. Still tired, but…” I looked at him again. That tangle of curls still fell across his face. I threw my shorts aside and reached over to brush his hair out of his eyes. They widened as I did so and I wanted to lift my hand away. Steven must have felt the tension as I thought about breaking contact and he caught my hand in his own. “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” He didn’t say anything for the longest time, just looked at me and it was obvious I’d look away first. Maybe our eyes had only met for a few seconds but they were the longest few seconds of my life. I turned away, and the mood broke. It was strange, that combined feeling of relief and something. “I’d better go and get cleaned up, then.” Steven let my hand go and I didn’t even have time to let it fall back to the pillow before he was sitting, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Well, yeah, I was relieved. I couldn’t name the other ingredient in the cocktail, though. Not until Steven picked up his shoes, illustrating his hurry to leave the room again. Ah. There it was. Disappointment.


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Chapter Nine

‘Awkward’ wasn’t the right word to describe the atmosphere between us after that. ‘Shifty’ wasn’t quite right either, although we made an effort to look like we completely hadn’t ever wanked each other off, never in this lifetime, whenever we were in Gary’s presence. I had the feeling I’d done something wrong, and this itch in my conscience wouldn’t leave me alone. If I’d offended Steven in some way—and surely it was his duty to inform me if I had—I couldn’t imagine how. Two gay guys wanking each other off. Big fat fucking deal. Yet that persistent feeling of what’s wrong with this picture remained. So did Steven. He still lived in the same house as me, so we had to deal with each other. On the surface we did just that. We were polite. Civil. Strained. Ostensibly, we spoke about paying the bills, shopping, what to watch on television, even including Gary the third wheel in these verbal parries. Underneath it all, each “Anyone fancy a coffee?” translated as “Have I pissed you off?” The undercurrents below every “Got any other DVDs to watch?” whispered “I’m not going to tell you.” I shrugged it off after a while. The refractory period of our flirtation had passed and I was back to normal now and ready to fuck the world. Every so often I’d catch Steven’s eye and the corner of his mouth would twitch, like the nanosecond before speech came, but in those moments he said not a word. It was, I felt certain, simply because in those moments he held all the power. I wanted him to speak. I wanted him to give me something and because of this, he didn’t. Two grown men staring each other out. I blinked first. Though there were three of us sharing the house, there were still plenty of opportunities for private conversation wherein the third party melted away to a night down the pub, faded to an evening with friends, hovered in the middle ground while shopping for beer, chocolate biscuits and a curry. On just such an occasion I gave Gary ten minutes to distance himself from the house and near the local supermarket, and Steven the same length of time to do whatever he was www.total-e-bound.com

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doing upstairs. I’d hoped to grab him in the kitchen—metaphorically—but the nerves which had up until now silenced me kept me mute until he’d vacated the ground floor. Climbing the stairs, I tried to ignore the symbolism of me seeking him out upstairs, where the bedrooms were. In the end I put it down to chance having a sick sense of humour. Or me, having a rubbish sense of timing. Yeah, it was more likely to be my fault. “Steven?” A sign of life had reached me from across the hallway, the thunk of something being settled on a shelf. No music played in the background to confuse me; the click of a cabinet door being closed came to me sharp, decisive and clear. “Yeah?” His voice came from the bathroom and as he spoke, a wisp of steam drifted across its doorway. If he’d showered, he must have done so very quickly, in minutes, and under water hot enough to scald the skin off his back if steam was visible afterwards. I approached the room with some trepidation, both because of the conversation we’d need to have, and the possibility of seeing Steven in a state of undress. I already had, of course, but this time it would be unequal. Me fully dressed, and him— “Something up?” I gulped, had to steady myself against the bathroom doorframe. “I came to…” Another gulp. “Speak to you.” Fresh from the shower, skin reddened by its heat, Steven wore nothing but a towel wrapped around him, a loose knot—dear God, how loose exactly?—slung low on his hips. He stood by the sink, one hand to his jaw as he turned this way and that, probably trying to decide whether or not he needed a shave. If my vote counted, I’d have said ‘not’. I liked the way his stubble looked and felt rough. “Anything in particular?” “Yeah.” It was no doubt possible for a steamed-up bathroom to clear one’s airways, but for some inexplicable reason, my chest tightened and my mouth dried up then. Coincidentally at the very moment Steven turned, leaned on the pedestal sink with one hand and rested the other on his hip. One tug away from… “Kit. Christopher.” I jumped, looked up. “Thank you. My eyes are up here. Is this what women feel like when straight guys leer at their chests? I don’t know. Anyway, you were saying?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“If you will wear nothing but a…” “What else would I wear when I’ve just had a shower?” “Nothing, nothing.” “You want me to wear n—” “No. No.” Actually, I did. “Look.” I crossed my arms but remained, hovering in the doorway like a vampire awaiting an invitation. “The other day. When you came. Home. I mean, when you came home. And I was ill.” “Go on.” Steven smirked, pushed his weight off the sink and went back to examining his reflection. Whatever he saw there warranted not a shave, but merely a quick wash and splashing warm water over his skin. Getting caught up in my observations again, I needed a further century or so to gather my thoughts, remind myself what I was there for. “I’m having some difficulty figuring this out.” “I gathered that.” Steven glanced at me sideways before going for his toothbrush. “You showered awfully quickly. Gary just went out and when you headed upstairs…” “Stop changing the subject.” “I’m not. I’m just saying—” “I just wanted to freshen up after work. I wasn’t dirty.” He shrugged. “Just wanted to wash away the day. Anyway. The other day. When you were ill.” He almost singsonged the words as he squeezed toothpaste onto the brush. “And I gutched oo onna ingy.” “When you what?” He spat into the sink, but the toothpaste foam still on his lips made me think things I really shouldn’t have been thinking. “When I touched you on the winkie.” He turned back to the task in hand, for which I was grateful. It was a lot easier for me to speak when he wasn’t looking at me. Of course, the fact droplets of water still glistened on his light dusting of chest hair made it hard—difficult. Made it difficult to…um…thingy. Concentrate. “Look. I can’t do this.” I hung my head, pretended my scuffed trainers were more interesting than Steven’s face or his freshly-showered body. “Guh?” More spitting, then he ran the cold tap to rinse his mouth out properly. “I mean, huh?” Dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a hand towel, he studied me with dark eyes under sharply-arched brows. “You can’t?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Yeah. This.” Steven Kenton half-scowling was unsettling enough. If he got full-on angry I wouldn’t have a clue how to deal with him. “And what is ‘this’?” “Us. I mean, not that there is an us. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being…” “Being…?” He lifted his brows and didn’t blink. “Presumptuous.” In an instant his expression changed to one of amusement. Eyes crinkling up, he showed gleaming rows of freshly-brushed teeth in a wide grin. “You’re…you’re really something, you know that?” “How d’y’mean?” “I’ve made you come.” He stepped closer. “On more than one occasion, and…” Wrapping one arm around himself, he stepped closer still, while stroking his chin with the other hand. “And you’re worried that you’re being presumptuous. Kit, you couldn’t be more noli me tangere if you tried.” “Nolly my what?” “It’s Latin. It means ‘stop clinging to me’. Christ said it to Mary Magdalene when… Look, never mind. I feel a bit weird discussing religion when there’s only a towel hanging between me and some serious sin being committed.” “Look. Steven. This thing.” “It’s called a penis.” He gestured down at himself with both hands and I couldn’t help but examine his towel for signs of a bulge. “No, not that.” “No?” “I know what that is. I’ve seen one before. I mean loads. Jesus. I’ve had more cock than I know how to handle. Not yours. I mean…fuck. Where was I?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry. You were saying. This ‘thing’.” “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it. I did. It’s just…” I lifted my palms as if anyone was going to answer my supplication. “It can’t… We can’t…” “Oh, I get it.” He nodded. “This is one of those ‘it was good while it lasted but we can’t do it again’ conversations, right?” “Right.” “Wrong.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Glad you ag—what?” “This is about you freaking out. For some reason. Okay, I get it. You’re standoffish, antisocial, selfish, insular, all that bollocks. And you want to act like you’re all oh no, no, Steven, please, don’t defile my virtue.” He gave a dramatic shrug, hands held up like a silent movie drama queen to emphasise his faux terror. “I don’t get it. Is this a faraway-so-close, reverse psychology thing? You want me to chase you? Would that be more”—he cocked his head and batted his eyelashes—“romantic?” “Steven, you… This isn’t about romance or stuff.” “Stuff?” He pulled at his bottom lip with one finger, manipulating it into a pout of sorts. “Could you be a bit more specific? Define ‘stuff’?” “Two people. The kind of ‘stuff’ they get into when they spend a lot of time together.” “Am I… Why yes, I think I am witnessing another man quietly freaking out over the fact he’s getting cold feet to match that iceberg of a heart he’s got behind that shivering ribcage of his. You are, you really are, a piece of work, Kit. Look. We’ve fooled around—” “Rather more than that.” “Okay. And you’re telling me now that you…what? Want it to stop?” The knot of nerves in the back of my throat swelled to the size of a golf ball, making it difficult to swallow or breathe or speak. So I resorted to a tentative glance up through downturned lashes, and a nod so brief it was little more than a twitch. “If it was nothing more than a bit of casual fun between two guys who just so happen to live together for however long, then what’s the problem?” My brow tightened in a frown, and I waited for him to explain. “Mind, a more sensitive guy than me might be inclined to be just a little bit pissed off right now. Okay, so I’m good for a bit of fun, but damn it, Kit, you could really have hurt my feelings tonight.” His voice wavered and I looked at him closely, then. It was an act. The biting of the back of his hand to put on a show of hurt, the overemotional scowl, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple—they all melded into a laugh deep enough to shake his shoulders as the sound echoed around the now-cooling bathroom. “What makes you think I was after something serious?” “I never assumed that. I…” I swallowed hard, was what I did. How to tell him that it wasn’t a case of thinking he wasn’t worth a relationship? It was closer to the truth to say I didn’t want to keep falling into this. I didn’t want to get used to him. “Never mind.” www.total-e-bound.com

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Steven closed the distance between us in an instant, or a couple of steps, grabbed my shirt and pulled me across the threshold. I stumbled, but he stood his ground. With nothing between us but my clothes and his towel, I held my breath until my head spun. I could have reached out and touched those minuscule droplets of water still dusting his chest hairs and no-one would have been any the wiser. No-one would have known except us. I could have kidded myself with just this one time. “Let’s try something.” I licked my lips which did absolutely no good at all, then shrugged. “Okay.” He moved back again, and pulled me with him. I put up little, if any, resistance. And he kept hold of my shirt. “You walk out of this room, and I’ll do nothing to stop you.” I waited. Waited for the explanation. The catch. “That’s it.” He slowly backed up against the wall and it looked as if I was holding him there, but the truth was far different. One fist clasping at the cotton of my T-shirt and that was all it took to nail my feet to the floor and stop me going anywhere. “You really think this is nothing, then leave.” I swallowed, hard. Gulped back air, even, and it rasped down my throat like shards of glass. I glanced from his hand back up to his face. “Then let me go.” When I looked down again, he splayed his fingers, and my wrinkled shirt fell away from his hand. “Aren’t you going to leave?” God knew how our torsos ended up in such close contact, but there was no room for even a sliver of daylight to get between us now. “You pulled me into the room.” “You let yourself be pulled.” Even the way he lifted on eyebrow was a gesture dripping in sarcasm, though not cruelty. It was just to make a point. I’m right. You know I am. “You…” My breaths shallow again, I lowered my gaze and it fell on his inked shoulders, his pecs, and as my gaze fell my blood pressure soared. “Why did you…” “To see if you’d let me, or protest.” Whispering now, he studied me, his eyes flickering up and down as he looked into my eyes then at my mouth as I, still nervous, licked my lips. “I’m not going to force you into anything if you’re so keen to call it quits. But you have to admit, there’s something between us.” “Steven—” “Two somethings, actually. Bit more than a couple of handfuls, though.” He shrugged, smirking as he did so, again flipping from serious and seductive to flirtatious, leaving me www.total-e-bound.com

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breathless in his wake. “Or a mouthful.” He winked, lifted both hands to my face and pulled me in for a kiss. I trembled like a high school virgin who’d never been touched before. “Pull the towel away, would you? I’ve got my hands full.” “But—” “Just fucking do it, Kit.” He wriggled his hips against me, doing almost all the work. All I had to do was give that loose towelling knot a tug, and the whole thing fell away in my hands. I wasn’t being obedient. I wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want to do, and Steven knew that. He wasn’t giving me orders. He was giving me permission. And still I felt scared. Two grown men staring each other out and I was a heartbeat away from giving in. “I know you don’t like being looked at.” Steven read my mind, even as he pressed his lips together, bleaching them into a forbidding line which stopped him saying anything further. And he nodded, once. Told me to kneel without uttering a word. For some reason I hated myself then. I loved the way he smelt, of clean water and fresh shower gel and scrubbed skin. I loved the way his cock tasted, but I saw weakness in myself. Even as he groaned more deeply with every inch I took into my mouth, I felt like I’d given in. My resolve to stay back, not get involved, was on life support. The shallow, ragged gasps he hauled in when I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock nearly finished it off. Physically, I wanted him. Emotionally, he scared the hell out of me. “You don’t like being looked at.” Steven’s fingers found their way into my hair and short though it was, there was just enough for him to tug. “But I like looking at you, so…” I was used to guys forcing—okay, not forcing. Encouraging—my head to dip further, but Steven didn’t. He pulled me back, trying to tilt my head while still holding me steady. I wavered. Wanted to pull away completely. Keep it together, Blackman, for fuck’s sake. I tried to shake him off or at least let him know I didn’t need him to hold me like that, but his hands stayed in my hair. Not once did his fingers tighten, not once did he move too suddenly for me to know what he wanted and never, never, did Steven force me with his hands into something I didn’t want. Earlier he’d given me permission. Now his hands asked for the same. But, I just couldn’t. I pulled back, his hands loosened their already-tentative hold and his head fell back, thudding against the wall. “God, please, Kit, you—” www.total-e-bound.com

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He must have thought I was only pulling back to move forward again, to take more of his cock as deeply as I could into my mouth, but I just couldn’t. “Sorry, I…” I wiped the back of a crooked finger over the corner of my mouth, but there was nothing there. And I fell back on my haunches, steadying myself on one hand. “Can’t…” “Kit?” Steven’s voice was a mixture of confusion and disappointment all in one pleading syllable. My name. God. Even those three letters on his tongue made me feel guilty. “Don’t do this to me.” His words rushed out of him, pleading, with an unsaid-butsomehow-groaned oh no chaser. “I can’t.” I hauled myself to my feet and could have laughed at my need to look at him then. Then, after I’d fucking ruined the mood. “I hate being… This. I can’t…” He bit his lip and the two vertical lines at the bridge of his nose belied his need to frown and I wondered why he didn’t just give in to it. My feet, no longer nailed to the floor, flinched in the direction of the exit and Steven’s lightning-fast down-up glance told me he’d noticed. Earlier I’d heard confusion and disappointment in his voice—now I saw only the latter in his eyes. Two grown men staring each other out. And I blinked first.


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Chapter Ten

Some nights later, I hovered in the no-man’s-land somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, kept from restful unconsciousness by that irritating, damned inconvenient conscience of mine. I’d shut down and Steven felt shut out. Logic told me the simplest thing would be to ride it out, just coast until the lease was up and he—or I—had the option of moving away without too much of a fuss, but— Yeah, Blackman. The simplest, most cowardly thing, more like. I punched one of the pillows into shape with more enthusiasm than was needed and tried to get comfortable, wondered if just lying there as if I was asleep would work. Maybe I could fool my body into thinking it could rest. Some hope. The door handle turned slowly but I didn’t flinch, as if some part of me already knew it would happen. I stretched my legs then curled them back up, moaning softly in a parody of absent-minded near-unconsciousness. Look how oblivious I am of every move you make. I knew who it was. Anyone else—Gary, Gemma, a houseguest—would knock before entering. Steven, though he’d lived here the shortest time, had no need of such niceties. He crept to keep his visit discreet, but only to avoid waking Gary and Gemma. He was here at all because he had the right. He closed the door just as quietly, I imagined with one hand easing the jamb back into place as the other clicked the handle. With two footsteps he’d reached the bed, and the mattress tilted with his weight. Still I didn’t acknowledge him. “I know you’re awake,” he whispered. “If I couldn’t sleep, you wouldn’t either.” “Arrogant shit.” A low laugh was his only response. Initially. Cool air whispered across my back as he moved the duvet and slid in behind me. “Coming from you…” He curved his body against my back and I exhaled at the feel of his treasure trail against my bare skin.


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Shit, he would have noticed that. Then mentally I shrugged. What did it matter if he knew how his presence played havoc with my ability to breathe? So I only remembered to exhale when he was touching me, big deal. “…that’s high praise indeed. So.” He wriggled his hips. “Guess why I couldn’t sleep.” He didn’t wear a vest, but had pulled on boxers which did nothing to conceal how hard he was. The least amount of clothing he could get away with, just in case he was intercepted before getting to my room. “Same reason you couldn’t, if I’m right.” He slid his hand down my bare chest, past my abs and muffled his laughter against the back of my neck. “Thought so.” “Cocky bastard.” “We both are. That’s the problem.” I wanted to ask how he could be so flippant after what had happened in the bathroom, after us barely speaking for days. After me freaking out, after all the petty disagreements we’d had—petty disagreements which, bundled together, looked like a pretty good collective reason to call it quits, to me. But maybe this was his way of making things right again. Or at least pretending they were. “What do you suggest we do about it?” he asked. “You could have stayed in your room and whacked one off.” “And what would you have done?” “The same.” While not confessing that had he never appeared in my room, the damn boner he seemed so pleased to encounter wouldn’t have been nearly so painfully hard. “Ah, but where would be the fun in that?” Steven’s fingertips toyed with the waistband of my boxers. I moved my hand to stop him but somehow our fingers ended up intertwined instead. Funny how that happened. “Kit.” His hand tightened on mine as a pause before he spoke again. “Will you at least look at me this time?” I inhaled, held it, and only breathed out again when the tension left Steven’s body behind me. He rolled onto his back and the absence of his hand from my waistband, now not even stilled against the outside of my boxers, knotted my guts in a way I wanted to ignore but couldn’t. His weight shifted again and when his feet hit the floor I propped myself up on one arm, looked over my shoulder. He sat there, facing away, in silence and not moving. It was after midnight, long after by my estimate, and so it was dark, but slivers of moonlight www.total-e-bound.com

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reached him, highlighting his hair, outlining him in flashes of silver. When his head turned to the side I imagined one of his thick black brows lifting, that studious look of intense scrutiny trying to make its way through the darkness to whatever he imagined he’d see in me. I might have been breathing again but little else on the inside was calm. My heart beat so fast it bruised me from the inside. Then Steven pulled at his shorts, and I didn’t know if his tut of frustration was directed at the fabric which seemed to melt away anyway, or me. When he reached for the bedside table, relief dropped me back onto the mattress, rocked me onto one side. Facing away from him. “You know.” His voice was so low I had to strain to hear it, but he knew I would. He knew I’d pay close attention to everything he said or did. “If I didn’t know you any better…” Foil tore. Business as usual. No foreplay, no chat-up lines. Let’s just fuck. “I’d be hurt.” “You? Hurt?” The sound I made was something like a laugh, but didn’t ring true. “Sure. After all…” Another pause, silence to which I listened attentively, before he broke it with the inevitable twist-and-flip of the lube bottle. “I’m only human. And this…” The mattress dipped in the middle when he neared me again and as well as relief, there was fear. Steven frightened me whenever he was near. “This refusal to let me look at you?” “It’s dark anyway.” “I could put the light on.” “No.” “Fine.” His words snapped as sharply as the lid of the bottle seconds before he tossed it aside. I screwed my eyes shut, imagined him stroking the lube onto his cock. If I said yes, I could have watched him. If I’d let him put the light on. If I’d turned over and faced him. If I’d let him fuck me while looking me in the eye. If I said yes. A breath shuddered out of him and I knew he’d screwed his eyes shut too, if only momentarily. It was dark, he couldn’t see me, and it made no sense but sometimes we closed our eyes against things we couldn’t see anyway. “Shorts.” It took a moment for the word—the command—to register, but he didn’t have to say it again. I struggled out of them, and this became one of the rare occasions my aversion to eye contact shamed me. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Anyone would think you didn’t want to see me.” “Are you kidding? I—” Steven gripped my hip and pulled me against him. “What?” “Nothing.” His voice dropped even further, if that were possible. “Tell me.” One arm curled under me, my head cradled in the crook of my elbow. With the other, the one I wanted to reach back and grab him with, I clawed at the sheet. “You know what.” He settled himself, making contact but not enough. His breath didn’t warm the back of my neck, and his voice fell onto me, so he must have been propped up on one arm. He had a habit of leaning his head on one cupped hand, so that was how I imagined him. The skin, the treasure trail just brushing against my back, was real. So was his other hand, for one second on my hip, then not. “Kit?” He exhaled slowly. “If this is how you want it, then…” His stilllubed fingertip barely circled once before he eased it inside me. I whimpered for half a breath before managing to bite my lip. “Fine.” He waited, probably for me to get used to the sensation, perhaps afraid of causing me discomfort, but the only thing making me uncomfortable was the fact his cock wasn’t inside me yet. “I wish you’d let me look at you.” “No, I—” “I don’t know what the fuck you’re scared of.” “I’m not, it’s just, no, don’t—” I bit my lip again to stifle the gasp when he withdrew. “No?” he asked, the laughter in his voice making the teasing obvious. “Really?” “Steven, you—” “You know what? I like it when you say my name. I really do.” He dipped his head enough for the ends of his hair to tickle my shoulder, and I wondered if he was about to kiss me, but no. “I like it when you sound desperate. But put the two together and I’m fucking undone.” “Jesus, just do it, will you?” I hoped my desperation wouldn’t carry, would just reach him and stop. I didn’t have much self-control left when I was so keen for him to fuck me. If he didn’t get inside me soon, I couldn’t count on not begging. Out loud. Which might have been what he wanted. “Do. What?” “Christ, why do you…just…”


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“Hey.” Behind me, his hand moved, back and forth, making it obvious what he was doing every time his skin brushed against mine. Again, Steven dipped his head and this time he dropped a kiss on my shoulder. “Tell me. I want to hear it.” “And I,” I said through gritted teeth, a barely-restrained growl at the back of my throat, “just want you to fuck me.” “Not like that.” “I’ve already told you I don’t like—” “I know. I know you don’t like being looked at.” Steven’s voice, on the surface, was a singsong, but underneath that was reluctant acceptance of something he’d never understand. “Try not calling it fucking for once.” I gulped. Jesus, he can’t mean…? “I don’t get it.” “Just tell me what you want to feel.” “You.” “Me? Or my cock?” “Same thing.” “No it isn’t, Kit.” His laughter whispered over my skin, cool and taunting. “Tell me what you want.” “Fuck.” I thumped the mattress with the hand that wasn’t curled under me, cradling my head. The hand that should have been reaching back to Steven’s hip, or grasping his hair as he nuzzled at my neck. And he laughed, because my frustration was obvious. “I don’t know.” “Yes you do. You just don’t know how to say it.” “I don’t understand why you’re being like this.” “Demanding? Oh, Kit, if you think this is demanding, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” “Just fucking get your cock in me, would you?” I had to whisper because we weren’t alone in the house, and thanked God it was dark, and I faced away from him. In daylight, or with the lamp on, facing him, with privacy allowing us to turn up the volume? I wasn’t sure if I could have borne that. “That’s more like it.” Steven laughed almost under his breath, his body weight forcing me face down on the bed, one knee nudging my legs apart. “It’ll do for now, anyway.” “What more do you want?” “For you to stop being so remote.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I’m hardly being remote when you’ve got your cock up my arse.” “Not yet I don’t. Oh. Oh Jesus.” He groaned with the first inch, but I couldn’t make a sound. His groan turned to a long, low exhalation halfway between a gasp or a sigh the deeper he went. Both of my hands clawed at nothing in particular and I think the sheet or the edge of a pillowcase bunched underneath them but the only thing I was fully aware of was the fact Steven was inside me. He was inside me and it felt just this side of oh-God-this-is-too-much. “Fuck. You are really testing my self-control, Kit.” He circled his hips, a surprisingly gentle motion considering he was just about deep enough for me to feel his balls against the arse he was fucking too damn slowly. Yes, he moved slowly, but that was still enough to stretch me and make me feel every inch. “How am I testing your self-control? I’m not—” He pulled out an inch or two. Paused. “—doing anything.” “Because you make me want to do this,” he growled, pushing all the way back in, and it took all the strength I had to keep my gasp turning into a loud groan. “Only harder.” “Fuck. Steven.” “Can’t have anyone hearing, can we?” he asked, the playful tone of his voice laced with the sheerest thread of sarcasm. “Well, no. They’d wonder—” “Wonder nothing. They’d know exactly what was going on if I did this hard enough to make you scream.” “Don’t.” “I know you’re a screamer, Kit.” He used his weight to nudge me onto my front, but propped himself up on both arms above me, thankfully. My cock might have been hard enough to drill a hole through concrete but face down on the bed with Steven’s driving into me with his full weight behind it might have been a little more uncomfortable than I could bear. “I know you can be.” “Jesus.” I loved hearing him when he was like this but didn’t know if my tenuous selfcontrol would hold out. “See, times like this, oh God…” Steven circled his hips and his quiet, throaty growl echoed mine. “Times like this when you want to let go, but you’re paranoid about www.total-e-bound.com

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fuck…keeping it all in…” He hissed in a deep breath and I rested my forehead against a bunched-up pile of pillows, heaving in as much oxygen as I could, staying as quiet and still as I could. “Hips. Lift your hips up.” Oh fuck, not that. Anything but that. But knowing how much I liked it was probably why he did it, and probably why I obediently struggled to shift my weight so I could get on my knees. We tangled, but Steven managed to stay inside me, moving deeper in fact when I spread my legs and the momentary shock of it, something like pain, made me grunt. “Careful.” He laughed softly, and I wished I could see him. My own reticence kept me face down and blind. “You okay?” “Yeah. Fine.” I gulped when his hands curved over my hipbones, let him pull me in. He moved in deeper, almost shoving himself forward as hard as he could and in an instant my eyes misted over and I barely resisted the urge to sniff. If he thought he was making me cry… I couldn’t figure out what would be worse—Steven stopping out of concern for my physical comfort, or him carrying on and driving me to admit something I wasn’t yet ready for. His fingers tightened round my hip then spread out, searching, just touching my skin and sliding back into place with every rock back and forth. The bed creaked under us, mere protests against our combined weight and for seconds or minutes or hours, I wasn’t sure, we said nothing. Just breathed. Then Steven’s breath deepened, and he said but two words. “You know.” My heart sank in relief. I’d thought he was about to speed up and some small part of me said not yet, don’t let this be over yet. “You know, you wouldn’t have to worry about making a noise if you were lying on your back.” “Yes, I would.” It was getting harder and harder to keep it in, to suppress the need to cry out, and speaking just pushed me closer to the edge. The only thing I could do was grit my teeth and pray that when I needed to speak, words were all that came out, and not the groan rippling the back of my throat, ready to tear through the quiet of the bedroom. “No, because then…” One of Steven’s hands left my hip, wandered up my back, pressing against every ridge and bump in my spine, making it arch and me want to push www.total-e-bound.com

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myself back against him. His cock was inside me, but everywhere his hands touched responded with a desperation to get inside him, under his skin. My hair was too short for him to twine it round his fingers like I did when my hands were in his hair, but I still flinched as if he’d pulled my head back, and he leaned over me to whisper, “Then I’d be able to kiss you, and no-one would hear the sounds you made because you’d be too busy kissing me back.” “Fuck, you could…” I panted, counted to ten in my head to make myself hold off. The angle he was at now, the hand on the back of my neck, every shallow thrust made me want to cry out, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. I hadn’t touched myself. “You could make me…” “Not yet.” There was laughter in his voice, and I hated him for it. I hated his smug selfcontrol and the power he had over me. “I want you lying on your side.” “Jesus, can’t you stay in one position for long? I just get used to one and—” “Yeah, I know. That’s exactly why. I like to play around with you.” I had to clench my jaw against a grunt of discomfort at the way he moved but somehow he stayed inside me. My torso hit the mattress, knocking the breath out of me and as soon as I managed to inhale again, Steven’s hand on my hip pulled me over. “Fuck, this is twisted,” I breathed, not trusting myself to attempt anything above a whisper. “You’ll break my spine.” “What a way to go. Fucked to death by Steven Kenton.” “I could think of worse—” Somehow I stifled the groan, setting my jaw against it, and it settled in my throat, attaching itself to my windpipe and swelling every so often like a ball of nerves. “You mean you actually like this?” Steven asked, sliding his hand over my hipbone, rocking me back onto him. The curve of his hand perfectly moulded itself to the curve of my waist and I nearly begged him to touch my cock. “This?” But he did it himself and I whimpered, helpless. “I knew you would.” His hand tightened; my eyes watered. “Come on, Kit. Say something.” “I…” Propping myself up on one elbow while he settled himself inside me, behind me, against me, took too much energy. I flopped back down again and the sudden movement jerked both of us, joined together as we were. “God, Kit, you’ve got no idea what I…” Steven eased himself in deeper, and his hand on my cock tightened. “Since…I knew you’d…” www.total-e-bound.com

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“What?” I didn’t and didn’t want to know what he was thinking. Asked anyway. “Since my first day here. I wondered what you’d feel like.” “And now you know,” I whispered. “But this isn’t the first time you’ve fucked me.” “No.” He lowered himself, leaned in to my shoulder and kissed it lightly, in between breaths. “Feels like it though.” Steven barely moved inside me but his hand tightened around my cock, sped up at exactly the right moments when I needed it to. One of my hands lifted away from grasping at the bedclothes but didn’t know where to come to rest. His hand? No—I might have disturbed him and he already had me right where he wanted me. His hip? Our limbs would become even more entangled than they were already. We’d have no room to move in this already-awkward position. His breaths, desperate, shallow gasps for air, broke into my consciousness and somehow I reached back and got my fingers tangled in his curls to pull him closer. I couldn’t kiss him as comfortably as I usually would—Christ, we were like two interlocking pretzels, all arms and legs and perspiration and the way the palm of his hand moved along the underside of my cock nearly stopped my breath. Any time our lips made passing contact, his hips moving against my back shuddered them apart again. “This has got to be the most awkward…” Every pause was a gasp for breath I prayed I’d remain able to keep silent. “Worth it though.” Steven’s lips curved against my jaw and I felt him smile. “Means…oh God, Kit, you’ll…” “What?” But I knew. And couldn’t hold off. I just wanted to hear him say it before I lost it, myself. “Gonna come. I can’t—” “Then do it. Just. Fucking—” My orgasm, though it had been building, still managed to surprise me with its power to arch my spine and cut off my words. Steven’s last thrust inside me arrested his breath. He froze, still holding on to me and after a second his ability to breathe returned, shallow, near-hoarse and rapid. “Fuck.” He dipped his head against the back of mine and the way his shoulders shook, anyone else might have thought he sobbed against my hair, but all I felt were hot breaths against my neck, not tears. “That was…”


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“Yeah.” It was all I trusted myself to say. That, and a whispered, “It was,” in agreement with words he hadn’t yet uttered. “No.” Tangled, sweaty curls tickled my shoulder as he shook his head. “I meant something else.” The seriousness in his voice slowed my heart from its post-orgasmic tattoo right down to flatline status. “That was the last time you ever turn your back on me.”


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Chapter Eleven

Even saying it would have been possible to cut the atmosphere with a knife wasn’t a strong enough phrase. A flamethrower wouldn’t have been able to melt the ice in every glance Steven deigned to shoot my way, reminding me of that other cliché—if looks could kill. It was only a cliché because it was in common use, and no less true for that. I was almost glad that those looks came infrequently. Only when unavoidable. We’d pass on the stairs and he’d back up against the opposite wall like even brushing auras was abhorrent to him. The first couple of times it happened I opened my mouth to speak but ended up losing focus quicker than he dodged away and carried on doing whatever he was doing. There didn’t seem much point in trying to have a conversation with a man who acted like I was possessed of every disgusting trait the darkest recesses of his mind could bring itself to acknowledge. I wanted to accuse him of being childish, but that most well-hidden part of me, my conscience, warned me off. A more hypocritical allegation would have been hard for me to make, given that I was seriously considering doing a hundred hours’ overtime in the office every week just to avoid coming home to the look on his face. He was avoiding me, I was avoiding him, and together we completely failed because we kept running into each other. We did live in the same house, after all, and here we were. Here we were. Exactly where I’d predicted we’d end up. Skin crawling with guilt and irritation every time we made the mistake of entering the same room and noticing there was only one fucking exit which the other always seemed to be blocking. And no way out. “I should never have got involved with you,” I blurted out one evening. Masochism, exhaustion and an angry fucking erection Steven would refuse to do anything about drew me into the kitchen five minutes after he’d announced an urge to make coffee and get the hell away from me. I could have made my way upstairs and spent the few hours before bedtime making sweet love to my right hand, reacquainting myself with my Supernatural DVDs and planning www.total-e-bound.com

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a night out to find some fresh meat. Could have, but I liked to bottom, I liked to be fucked hard and I liked to make it hurt. Why not carry that through to everyday life as well, just to really twist the knife in my own guts? Steven thudded the coffee mug down on the worktop. “I mean—” I began, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed in a typical Imean-business pose my thundering heart failed to back up. “Yes.” Though his back was turned, I could tell he spoke through gritted teeth. “I know what you mean, thank you. You’ve already made it abundantly clear.” “Hasn’t it all come about?” I asked, wanting him to admit it, wanting to be right more than I wanted to fix things. As if they were even fixable. Steven flinched, his head beginning to turn, but stopping before he looked over his shoulder. His instinct was to look at me but indignation kept his back turned. “I knew it was a mistake fooling around with someone I lived with.” “Far be it from you to say you told me so, right?” he snapped. “Am I wrong?” Gripping the edge of the countertop with both hands shoulder-width apart, Steven hung his head and groaned. “I said it would—” “No.” He whipped around in a nanosecond and after crossing his arms and thinking again about such an aggressive stance, stood with hands on hips. “No, you’re not wrong. You were completely right and I should never have touched you. I apologise from the bottom of my cold, black heart and would do anything in my power to make you understand you’ve made your point. Don’t worry, Christopher.” His use of my full name sent chills through me, but it was nothing compared to the coolness in his voice, the way he didn’t cross his arms again. He didn’t need to be aggressive or standoffish or more hostile than he already was. The damage was done. We both knew it was completely fucked up. This idiotic excuse for a conversation was just drawing a line under it then scoring through a few times, blotting it out with Tipp-Ex, tearing up the page and burning the scraps to ashes. All or nothing, Kit, remember? If there’s nothing left, let there be nothing. “I get the message,” Steven said. “As much as I liked to think you enjoyed what I did to you, I get the message.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I did. I did,” I said again, when his eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Physically. It was…” “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He spoke gently and nodded softly, but it felt to me like the calm before the storm. Agreement before the insult. “I made the mistake of thinking you weren’t ashamed of me, but oh well. Live and learn.” He shrugged and turned back to whatever he’d been doing. Staring at the coffee jar and not making a hot drink, nor flicking the kettle on. “Ashamed? I wasn’t ashamed—” “Then perhaps you could tell me why you spent the best part of, oh, every moment since we fucked panicking over being discovered, or avoiding me?” “Because it wouldn’t have looked—” “Actually, I’d really rather you forget I asked that question. I don’t want to look as if I actually give a shit, do I?” Steven half-turned his head again, letting me see him in profile but no more. “I mean, you’ve already had enough opportunities to insult me, no need to overegg the pudding, eh?” I wasn’t expecting the playful—no doubt forced—laugh, but he gave one all the same. “Insult? I didn’t… I mean…” “Let’s see, shall we?” Braver now, Steven turned, leant back against the countertop and mirrored my stance—arms crossed again. Ankles too. “I wanked you off; you were worried about Gary hearing. I sucked you off; you were worried about him and Gemma coming home early. I fucked you, you—” “With him right across the hall? Of course I was worried he’d—” “Oh, the worry was understandable.” He rolled his shoulders, either working out a kink or shrugging away the weight of my confusion. “What was the final nail in the coffin was the fact you couldn’t even bear to look at me.” “Didn’t stop you fucking me, though, did it?” Steven’s eyes widened momentarily. “No.” He bobbed his head in what could have been agreement but which looked more like resignation. “No, it didn’t. Thanks for the reminder. Oh, and I also appreciate your first words to me all evening being the wish that you’d never got involved with me. How anyone could be insulted by that I don’t know, but I guess I’m just one of those over-sensitive, queeny gay types. I really hadn’t got the message up to now what with you haring out of the room every time I get near you, or mysteriously finding shit to do outside the house for hours on end and really, it was a surprise to see you www.total-e-bound.com

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looming in the doorway and initiating a conversation tonight, if you can call it a conversation when someone mutters code for ‘I was willing to have you fuck me but don’t expect any acknowledgement, good manners, social graces or human decency’.” He groaned, shook his head. “I’m gonna stop there or I’ll start to sound like the kind of person I despise. You know. Whiners.” He turned his back again and spooned coffee into the mug, his every movement glacier-slow and weighted with resignation. “Perhaps you could tell me why the backing-away every time we pass on the stairs? Avoiding even looking at me and when you do it’s like I’m the most repulsive creature on God’s Earth?” “Not nice when that happens, is it?” he murmured. “Pardon?” “Nothing.” “Come on, Steven. If you want to accuse me of shutting down, fair enough, but at least enlighten me.” “How many times?” I pushed my weight off the doorframe and considered entering the room properly, but nerves kept me hovering at the threshold. “The whole problem is…” He heaved in a breath and leaned on the worktop, supporting his weight on both hands again. “The problem is, I am sick of telling you what the problem is. Yes, I know you’ve had fucked-up relationships in the past, but we all have. That’s life. You’re supposed to learn from them, not blame every successive fuck buddy for not being whoever you wish they were.” “I wish someone had told me that we were having a relationship, because I would’ve…” “You would’ve?” Steven straightened and looked over his shoulder at me. “What? Treated me with a bit more respect? Acknowledged once in a while that you are, in fact, the biggest fucking douche I have ever met—” “Hey, now, wait a minute—” “And even being in the same room as you is turning me into the kind of person I would hate to listen to if I were in your shoes, so if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll forget the coffee and just go to bed.”


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“Wait—” I hadn’t realised the kitchen was that small. In seconds he’d flipped off the kettle and crossed the room, heading for the doorway like he was just going to walk right through me. Steven looked down at my hand on his shoulder and without moving his head again, lifted his gaze. I’d always had a weakness for men looking at me through their lashes and that weakness multiplied when it was him. “Yes?” A pause, during which I discovered I’d completely lost the ability to speak. Touching Steven might have had something to do with it. “You have something you’d like to say to me?” “Don’t.” Oh, well done, Blackman. Monosyllabic and nonsensical. We are doing well today, aren’t we? Thick black brows lifted and though it was aloofness that made his eyes shine, I wanted to pretend it was mischief. I wanted to pretend his very muscle tension wasn’t screaming get your hand off me. “Don’t? Well? Go on.” “I meant, just don’t…” Steven inhaled, held it as if he was going to speak, and let it go. That tension bled out of his muscles and I still didn’t take my hand away. “You don’t have anything to say at all, do you?” he finally asked, whispering. I shook my head. “You just couldn’t handle me telling you what a dick you are? Calling you out of being such a selfish, insular, anti-social, inept wanker?” I cleared my throat. There was nothing I could say to any of that. “And…” Steven stepped closer, not exactly trapping my arm between us, but making it slightly more difficult to break contact, as if I wanted to. “You don’t want me to turn the tables and be the one to back out now, do you? It really pisses you off that I walk out of the room, or avoid you on the stairs, or…oh…don’t creep into your room at night because I’m so desperate to get inside you anymore. Why? Shall I tell you why? Shall I articulate it for you, seeing as the great Christopher Blackman has been struck dumb?” My fingers flinched against his T-shirt. Muscle-tight as always, doing nothing to hide either his shape or the heat of anger rising off his skin. “Maybe you’re just not saying much because all the blood’s rushing to your cock, hmm? Oh, don’t think I can’t tell. You only ever notice me when you’re horny or pissed off at www.total-e-bound.com

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something. Both at the same time?” He shrugged, even deigned to smile, though only briefly. “This’ll be why tonight’s the first time we’ve been in the same room for more than sixty consecutive seconds. Why you’re saying nothing. And why you’ve got a hard-on I just bet you’re wishing I’d do something about.” Oh, sure, he smiled at me then, but it was smug. So—and I couldn’t believe I even contemplated the pun without laughing—so bloody cocksure he made my eyes water. A tingle ran up the back of my neck, like all those times he’d made me shudder just looking at me from across the room, or when I got so horny thinking about him that my eyes rolled back in my head and I couldn’t hold my head up. “See…” Every time he spoke, his voice dropped still further and it was either a need to listen carefully, or a need to breathe him in, that pulled me closer. “You’re used to being the one to walk out, or turn your back, or tell me to leave, or freak out. You have never, on any of the occasions we’ve been together, been able to stop yourself edging for the door or telling me to stop, or even thinking about how much this freaks you out and contemplating that your life would be so much simpler if I just. Wasn’t. In it.” Mesmerised by the way his lips moved when he spoke, I had a hard job taking in the content of what he said, but I heard it. I listened. Somehow. “So I’d really like it if you stepped aside and let me be the one to walk away for once,” he murmured and my heart skipped. Our torsos weren’t touching, but I still got scared he’d feel it, be able to tell somehow. Then I figured, so fucking what if he did? He’d already called me out on everything true. “No? So you’re really that passive? You’re not going to get out of my way, you’re not going to move or even make a move on me?” I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, only because they felt so dry, not because I was thinking of kissing him—which I totally wasn’t—and he smirked. Like he knew I totally was. It was unavoidable when he was standing close enough to feel through our jeans how hard my cock was, close enough for me to see every pore in his skin, every detail of those darkened by the promise of stubble.


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“I bet you’d really love it if I made a move on you right now, wouldn’t you?” Steven taunted. “That way you’d get what you want and you wouldn’t even have to commit to, ooh, making the first move, admitting that you’re not made of stone—” “Shut up.” “—and the hardest thing about you isn’t that prize boner you’re sporting right now.” “Steven, just—” “I’ll say something for you, Kit, your cock’s almost as big as your ego. You’ll make some lucky guy a great ex-boyfriend someday—” “For God’s sake, will you just—” “What? What? Shut up? You’re not doing anything to make me shut up, are you, and you won’t even let me past—” I didn’t know whether it was anger or lust that made me push him back and back until he hit the table or one of the chairs, but he laughed, and I wanted him to stop so the only thing I could do that made a blind bit of sense was grab his hair, sink my fingers into those thick black curls and kiss him like I hated him. Furniture protested as it slid an inch across the floor and Steven steadied himself by holding onto my waist and not letting go even when he’d regained his footing. I couldn’t breathe, I was so desperate to get inside him and leave my mark, but not by fucking him—he wouldn’t want it that way anyway and I didn’t much care. I was born to bottom. Steven was right. I was passive through and through. I just lay there and took whatever he saw fit to give. Take, take, take. Until now. I just wanted to leave my mark somehow, by tasting every part of his mouth, or clawing my way into his mind while pulling at his hair, or forcing him to just…fucking…God, I didn’t know what. “Fuck, are you trying to hurt me?” he panted against my face when we finally pulled apart to breathe. But no way was I letting him go now. “No, I was just trying to make you shut up.” I tried to kiss him again but he flinched, not to get away from me, but only to turn his head slightly. Fine. Your neck then. I shrugged. Every part of him tasted just as good anyway, and I especially loved that helpless whimper he couldn’t hold in whenever I flicked the tip of my tongue over the curve of his neck right below his ear. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Fucking hell, Kit.” Steven’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped back air. I loved that I’d made him breathless. “You really know how to mess with my head, don’t you?” “Likewise.” I dipped my head, again going for his neck, but he fought back, shoving with anger or passion, probably more than a little of both and I ended up backed against the worktop against which he’d earlier leaned, his hips pressing hard against mine. Either he was trying to hold me up or hurt me. He managed both and I loved it. “I really, really hate you sometimes.” He grabbed at my shirt, pushed it up and out of the way of my waistband and his warm hands on my skin made me shudder. God. I needed that. I tugged his hair again, pulled him into a kiss to stop myself saying it out loud. Yes, yes, yes, fuck, more. As soon as my belt jingled, the only sound in the room besides our heavy, desperate breathing, I went for his waistband too. Ordinarily I’d have just kept my hands where they were, let him touch me and loved every second of it, but not this time. I had to have my hands on him. Somewhere. His bare skin. “Don’t care. Just long ‘s you lemme—” I slurred, thankful the weight of him was there to hold me up. “Oh fuck, do that again.” “Let you what?” Steven murmured, right before he nipped my earlobe and I hissed in a breath, amazed I was still able to inhale. I’d never met a man who could make a hand-job feel that good. He’d been right, way back when. I remembered him telling me they were the stuff of legend. “Let you what?” “Touch.” I shuddered, a violent ripple of unbearable want curving my spine so my hips were pushed against him. “Touch you.” I thought I heard him laugh. “Wanna touch you.” I wasn’t even sure if my hands would work. My brain had shortcircuited and I could barely speak, but fuck it, Steven felt as hard as I was. There was no way I wasn’t going to try. “That all?” He kissed and nipped his way along my jaw to my mouth and didn’t kiss me there, just watched me for a second and I flinched. There it was again, that look in his eyes. “Don’t you want to do anything else?” My shaking hands managed to get his zip down. I curved one palm around the outline of his cock through his shorts. I could have lived and died in the pause before he took in another breath, loved knowing I could do that to him. “Like what?” I knew he wasn’t www.total-e-bound.com

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thinking about me fucking him. Didn’t bother me if I never did—I’d let him fuck me any way he pleased just for the pleasure of having his cock inside me. “I bet you’d suck me off if I told you.” “Oh, fuck yeah.” My words could have been a response to the way his shoulder moved so slowly, the way his fingers tightened on me with every downstroke. Or maybe the way his cock fit perfectly against the curve of my hand. “You would?” “Too fucking right I would. But…can’t move.” The only room for manoeuvre I had was the barest sliver of breathing space; enough to touch him, enough to breathe, enough to push my hips against him, force my cock through his encircling hand. “So do it then.” “What?” Lead weights threatened to pull my eyelids shut. The way his tongue moved against the curve of my neck made me drowsy. “Get on your knees in front of me and suck my cock.” “But…” “You said you wanted to.” “God. Need…Steven, I’m gonna…I need…” “Do it.” He didn’t stand back, but began to pull away, loosened his grip by the tiniest margin. “Show me how sorry you are for being a selfish bastard and give me something back. Get on your knees and get that mouth of yours around my cock. Now.” “Oh God.” I trembled, and might have pushed my weight away from the worktop. Or it could have been that Steven pulled me, twisted around so our positions reversed. “Please, I gotta—” “I love it when you say that, but nuh-huh.” He shook his head and the light caught a strand of his hair just so, the sharp angle of his brows, the edge of his cheekbone. “You don’t get to come ‘til I do.” “But—” “Suck it. You wanted to touch me. Do it. Make it up to me. I’ll only believe you mean it once I’ve come down the back of your throat.” “Oh God.” My knees hit the floor before he’d even finished speaking. Thank God he’d told me to suck his cock—I wouldn’t have been able to hold myself upright for much longer anyway. Him speaking to me like that turned me on even more than having his hand on me. www.total-e-bound.com

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“I know you need to come, baby, but…” Both his hands cradled the back of my head and pulled me forward. “Me first. I’ll do…oh Jesus…anything…fuck…” Steven’s fingers flinched against my scalp, grasping at hair too short to tangle in when I took the head of his cock between my lips. I felt him push back, but laid my hands on his hipbones, silently telling him to wait. Sure, I had to make him come before I got mine, but desperate though I was, this wasn’t to be rushed. I loved the desperation in his voice too much, the rough edge to every hard-won breath, even the way his fingernails dug into my scalp and the back of my neck. He clawed at me the more of him I took and he couldn’t hurt me enough. “Oh God, do that…do that again.” I ran the tip of my tongue along the underside of his cock and sucked so hard my cheeks hollowed. I could have sworn the sounds coming from the back of Steven’s throat—groans and faint, inarticulate murmurs—made my dick even harder but no matter how much I needed to get off, I couldn’t take my hands off Steven. One of my hands stayed against the protrusion of his hipbone, the other, I wrapped around the base of his cock, and stroked in time with my mouth. “Oh fuck, Kit, God, you… Jesus, don’t stop, that’s—” “Hey, if either of you guys are in the kitchen, stick the kettle on will ya?” I froze, mid-stroke, and both Steven’s hands tightened against my scalp. A heartbeat later, and he was the first to speak. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.” I pulled back, just enough to speak, to whisper. “But if he’s out of the shower—” “Fuck, Kit, I’m nearly there.” “But—” “Just fucking suck me off, for Christ’s sake, I need to—” “In fact, somebody be a pal and make the coffee for me, I’m gasping!” Gary’s voice came from the top of the stairs and I prayed he wouldn’t descend—but then why would he if he was asking one of us to make his drink? He’d finished in the shower and was more than likely wrapped in a towel, and returning to his room to dress. “Steven, he’s coming—” “At least somebody is,” he snapped, and I looked up at him for a split second before whipping my gaze away. www.total-e-bound.com

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“And I’ve still got my dick out.” I pulled away, scrambled to my feet and staggered back, tucking myself in and righting my clothes again. “Better get yourself decent again,” Steven snapped, turning his back and fiddling with his clothes. “Fuck. Fuck.” He groaned, as if in pain. “Steve—” I laid my hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off like it burned. “Don’t.” “But he could’ve…Jesus, what was I thinking?” “That’s not the first time you’ve done that to me.” “What? Jesus, man, we couldn’t… I mean Gary’s just out of the shower and he could come downstairs at any minute. Fuck, this is crazy.” “Yeah, you’re telling me.” I caught his eye, waited for him to continue. “Getting me wound up like that and stopping? Really, I thought things would be different this time—” “I’m sorry.” “I wish you were.” “I thought we were gonna be interrupted.” “Don’t you mean discovered?” I hated that Steven could switch from desperation to disgust so quickly. But maybe it was my fault for doing this to him. “Besides,” he went on, “I wasn’t talking about the fucking blowjob.” “Steven, I—what are you talking about?” “You’re not bothered about Gary walking in on you with some other guy’s dick in your mouth—” “Yes I am!” I looked back at the door, as if Gary would suddenly have manifested in the doorway, but nothing. “You’re not even worried about someone finding out you’re gay.” “I am out, after all.” Had been for years. To my family, at work; all my friends knew. I’d had some shit for it, but nothing unexpected. “You’re terrified someone’s gonna find out you’re actually human.” “I beg your—”


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“Don’t worry, Kit. I don’t think there’s much danger of that.” Steven smoothed down his shirt and took a step closer to the door. I grabbed his arm and he looked over his shoulder in disgust. “Wait. Where are you going?” I asked. “I’m turning the tables. I figured I’d be the one to back out this time. I’m sick of you running away from me so, please, do allow me the honour for at least once in my life, won’t you?” He jerked his arm away, unable to countenance further contact. This switch from minutes before, begging me to give him more to coldly requesting I let him go, was agonising. Agonising, and entirely my fault.


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Chapter Twelve

A couple of days later and things were no better. Cold glances, the avoidance of my aura, terror of invading one another’s personal space, nothing more than essential, monosyllabic communication. I signed up for as much overtime as was possible. Bill’s eyebrows lifted at my willingness to make myself available, but he didn’t question it. He had a lackey on-hand to fix his fuck-ups, so wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth. I just wished I was able to fix my own, but hadn’t a clue how. I had a feeling I could beg and plead, but Steven wouldn’t listen. Even if I got on my knees and begged…or sucked him off…he wouldn’t be able to let go. I knew he was right—I’d let him down, but surely he saw the necessity for discretion? Sucking him off in the kitchen, for fuck’s sake, with Gary in the house… I shook my head, tore off my glasses and rested my head in my hands, groaning at the mess I’d made of things in my usual way. Kit Blackman always managed to fuck up, and effortlessly so. My default setting. “You might as well go home,” Bill said. I hadn’t even heard his approach, so distracted was I. “Huh?” “It’s late. Later than you normally stay. You’ve done enough. We’ll sort the rest tomorrow.” “Oh. Oh, right.” I rubbed my eyes before glancing at the clock. “Shit. I didn’t realise the time.” “Anyone would think you were reluctant to go home.” He laughed, and retreated to his office, not even waiting for my muttered response. “You’d be surprised.” It didn’t take nearly long enough to back everything up, copy the work files over to my laptop, pack up and pull on my jacket, but eventually I was inevitably, unavoidably, ready to go home. I couldn’t walk slowly enough. Steven messed with my head, and so did my inability to control the space-time continuum. Home was too near, too soon. www.total-e-bound.com

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And too…quiet? “Hey, anyone home?” I dumped my laptop bag on the armchair instead of heading straight upstairs as I was wont to do, lately. I’d avoided both housemates to be honest, because the house was too full of them. This time, tonight, it was full of absence. “Yeah, me.” Gary appeared in the kitchen doorway, his body language subdued but tense. An odd combination, but evident in the way he tucked his hands in his jeans pockets, hunched his shoulders, set his jaw. “Is something wrong?” I looked all around, then cocked my head. It was too quiet. “Something’s happened.” “Yeah, well, it was coming for a while, so…” “What was?” Gary, too, inclined his head then, scrutinising me while he frowned. “You really are a piece of work.” “I’m sorry?” My entire body felt like it had jolted back in shock, but my feet remained firmly planted where they were so it must have just been the violence with which my heart skipped that made me feel as if my entire world had tilted. “Bit late for that.” “Look, Gary, you’re gonna have to enlighten me, ‘cause I’m more than a little confused.” “We’re gonna need another housemate.” “What? You’re not moving out?” “No, you fucking idiot.” “Then…” I gulped. “Steven?” Gary nodded and crossed the hall, joining me in the living room doorway. “Yeah. Steven.” “Where is he, anyway? I thought this place sounded awfully quiet when I got home.” I craned my neck, as if I’d be able to see all the way up the stairs from here. Gary muttered something as he pushed past me, before throwing himself down onto the settee. “Huh?” “No wonder he fucking left.” “I…” I choked on whatever else I was going to say. “You’re saying?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Kit, he’s been moving out for days now and you’ve been too fucking blind to notice.” “I beg your pardon?” A wave of God, no, don’t tell me this rose from the pit of my stomach, like the nausea accompanying each migraine, only worse. Much worse, because there was no pill or potion to fix this. “Every time you passed him on the stairs?” “I tried not to look.” “Yeah, so he said.” “He’s been talking to you?” “Don’t worry, Kit—he didn’t give anything away. I knew something was going on between you. It was as plain as the nose on your face.” “I don’t see how. I never so much as looked—” “Yeah, that’s how I knew, fuckstick.” “My name,” I said, through gritted teeth, “is Kit.” “I’ll call you whatever the fuck I like, because it’s all down to you. You never looked at him, and the fact you were making so much of an effort not to interact with him in front of anyone told me you were whatever you did with each other.” “Why didn’t you say anything?” “None of my business. Oh, and I was kinda hoping if I left you to it you’d somehow work out how not to fuck this one up.” “So it’s my fault we need to find someone else to pay the—” “Kit, get over yourself!” Gary sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I don’t give a toss about the rent, and neither should you. We’ll figure something out, but you should know this—Steven has been moving out for days. Every time he passed you with a bag slung over his shoulder? It was full of clothes. He was moving out because he couldn’t bear to be in the same house as you. While you were working overtime this evening, he came round with a couple of friends to get the rest of his gear out of the house and now…” He slumped back again, throwing his hands up in resignation. “Now he’s left.” “But he…” I threw a glance in the direction of the front door. Yeah. Like he was gonna walk through it again anytime soon. “He never said—” “Oh, he did, Blackman. My guess is he did say something, or at least tried to, but you were too no, no, leave me alone, I don’t do relationships to even listen.” “How the hell do you know all this? Did he—” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I told you, Kit. He said nothing. Only the bare minimum. Steven said he found it uncomfortable living in the same house as you, so he was moving out, extended his apologies for letting his dick do his thinking for him, and…that’s that.” “What, that’s it? He’s just gone?” “Aren’t you happy?” Gary cocked his head and for the first time in all the years we’d been friends, he sneered at me. “You’ve been pushing him away for weeks now anyway. What does it matter?” I would have punched him if I hadn’t walked out, but part of me wanted to cry and there was no way I’d let him see that. No fucking way. I couldn’t go out—I’d left my bag in the living room and while I had my keys in my jacket pocket, I was too tied to my mobile phone to leave home without it. Fine, then. Upstairs. I reached the top of the stairwell out of breath, not through physical exhaustion but desperation. Steven’s absence pulled the breath out of my lungs, nearly crushed them. It sure felt like something in my chest was breaking. I’d always been a bottom, always liked to be fucked, always liked to be hurt, which was why I couldn’t pass Steven’s room without pushing the door open. The first breath I hauled was like inhaling shards of glass. I hadn’t realised it was possible to hurt that much without being… Christ, it was like ten of the worst migraines happening all at once dead centre behind my ribcage. Empty bookcase, nothing on the walls, a stripped bed, no clutter that spelled S-T-E-V-E-N and that made him all the more conspicuous. Not a thing left. I woke myself up with the next breath—the gasp juddered in the back of my throat, almost choking me and all I could think about was returning to my own room and collapsing onto my bed. Something crinkled underneath my head when I shifted my weight—a piece of paper that made the painful breaths flare into hope. Twisting round, I groped for it, a man who’d forgotten how to swim grasping at a lifebelt. At least you let me be the one to run away this time. Oh, he just had to say it. He had to remind me of that. He couldn’t have insulted me more if he’d called me every name under the sun. It was no lifebelt after all, so I let myself drown. www.total-e-bound.com

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Chapter Thirteen

“I have no fucking idea why I’m doing this.” “Because you’re sick of being a miserable git,” Gary pointed out. Incorrectly. Gemma, meanwhile, gave a heavy sigh. At the sound, I looked over to where she stood, leaning against the living room wall with her arms crossed, expecting to see a scowl or a glare in her eyes, disapproval furrowing her brow. Not so. There was something else in her expression, which I didn’t care to examine, or that funny unsettled feeling in my stomach would get even more unsettled. And far less ‘funny’. “I almost wish Bill would phone with some work emergency.” “Oh, no you don’t,” Gary said. “Yes. He does,” Gemma put in, not moving. “That’s the kind of person he is.” “Avoiding the truth, burying himself in work, making himself even more of a hermit?” “No, I meant…” Gemma’s gentle tone surprised me. I’d expected her to have a go, try to talk me out of it, but the frown of concern wrinkling her brow wasn’t a scowl. The twist to her lips was a watery smile, not a sneer. “Blocking out the world by immersing himself in something productive until he feels better.” Well that was unexpected. But even so… “Look, can you two stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here?” “Half the time you’re not,” Gary muttered. “It’s like you’re on a different planet.” “I am not. And anyway, what did you mean by avoiding the truth?” “You’ve been a twat, that’s what—” “Gary.” The censorious tone, usually reserved for my name, now formed Gemma’s boyfriend’s name, not mine. Truly, a night for surprises. The most surprising thing was I’d agreed to go out with those two at all. A house party across town and I’d only managed to stop them—strictly speaking Gemma—bugging me by promising to stay for one drink only. Besides, if it was one of their friends throwing the party, I’d most likely not know them and it wouldn’t be right to gatecrash for longer than it took to grab a beer, make a full circuit of the house, and call for a cab home on my mobile. www.total-e-bound.com

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I didn’t know their friends and I hardly saw any of my own these days. Maybe I should make more of an effort for them, I thought, surprised by my own willingness to branch out. This isn’t like me at all. Considering developing a social life instead of staying home, licking my wounds. Gemma had been the one to look me in the eye and say I just couldn’t do that much longer. I needed to go out, get some fresh air, have fun. “But I can’t…” I’d begun, ending weakly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and avoiding her eyes again. “Can’t leave this damn house?” she’d demanded, arms crossed and insinuating herself into my line of vision once again. “No. Have fun.” I’d sounded pathetic—had been—and the one good thing about my poor-me demeanour had been the way Gemma’s face softened, sympathy crowding the bossiness from her eyes. “Oh, Kit.” She’d uncrossed her arms and reached for me, and I’d shuddered at the thought of a girly hug, but she must have sensed the tension already building in my muscles, settling instead for a pat on my arm and a retreat to her own personal space again, leaving mine empty. That quiet, sympathetic, excruciating, “Oh, Kit,” had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’d given in, agreed to come out with her and Gary that weekend but only for an hour. I couldn’t bear her pity, would have preferred Bossy Gemma to show herself again. “Come on, let’s go get our coats on.” Gemma pushed her weight off the wall and led the way to the coat rack in the hallway. “I am not a twat,” I whispered to Gary, obviously a little too loudly than I’d intended. Gemma stopped, spun round on her heels and glared at us. Ah, now this I could handle. I was used to this. “Yes you are.” “I bloody am—” “You.” One single word from a five feet, six inches, slender blonde woman and two guys a good few inches taller, a couple of stones heavier, froze in their tracks. “Behave.” “We are behaving,” Gary said, prodding me in the back. “Would you get the fuck off me?” I elbowed him in the ribs, making him groan. “And he started it,” I added, but Gemma said nothing.


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Her lips thinned out to a bleached line and she crossed her arms again. She meant business. The heavy sigh underscored this fact. “I’m not angry,” she almost singsonged. “I’m—” “—just disappointed,” Gary and I chorused. We’d heard it a thousand times before. Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose. “Get your coats,” she threw at us, spinning round again, grabbing her coat and making for the front door in one fluid movement that I thought made her appear to have demoniclevel powers. Gemma Crawford knows all, Gemma Crawford sees all. “Yes, Mum,” I muttered. “I heard that.” Gemma Crawford had supersonic fucking bat-hearing as well. Some things definitely never changed.

**** We grabbed a taxi from the rank near our local shops, not bothering to book one to pick us up at the door. “You do realise this little jaunt will give me time to back out?” I asked. “You wouldn’t dare,” Gary told me. “Oh?” “Because I would kill you,” Gemma said, and I believed her. Couldn’t resist answering back, though. “Wouldn’t that rather defeat the purpose of this Operation Cheer-Kit-Up thing you’ve got going on?” She surprised me then by hooking her arm through mine, despite my—though it pained me to admit it—standoffish posture. Hands in jacket pockets, head slightly bowed, shoulders hunched. “Bit hard to be happy, happy, joy, joy when you’re dead,” I pointed out. “You’re almost funny when you’re grumpy.” “Him?” Gary’s voice was almost a squeal. “You’ve always said he was a bad-tempered bastard.”


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“He is.” Gemma shrugged. “But when he’s like this, he’s almost entertaining. You know.” She smiled up at me as we walked. “Not really in the mood for doing something, but resigned to the fact I’m right and putting up a cursory protest.” “You’re so bloody smug sometimes.” “I may be smug,” she admitted, leaning her head against my arm in a gesture that from anyone else would have been adoring and submissive, “but I’m still right.” “Fuck you.” “I’m not your type.” “And you’re supposed to be with me, remember?” Gary asked. “Instead of flirting with my gay housemate?” “I wouldn’t have her anyway,” I muttered. “Why the bloody hell not?” Gemma lifted her head off my arm and scowled. “Are you kidding? You’d eat me for breakfast.” “Yeah, I know.” Gary sniggered. “That’s one of the good things she—” “Ugh. I do not want to know.” “You can’t tell me you’ve never had a wake-up call like that.” “Not with a woman, thank you.” I shuddered, playing it up for the cameras, or rather, Gemma’s benefit. There’d been a couple of times in my misspent youth when I’d tried to like women, but it just wasn’t happening. A train of thought which led me inevitably to the last man I’d touched like that and I swore, if I concentrated hard enough and ran the tip of my tongue around my mouth just so, I could remember what he tasted like. I loved to torture myself. I loved to think about things I shouldn’t think about, just to confirm that, yes, it did give me that funny feeling just below my ribcage that was somewhere between nauseated and breathless. Every morning kicked me in the solar plexus as I woke up but it took less and less time to get my breath back each day. Being the masochist I was, I liked to do it to myself sometimes, just to check. Yep. It really did make me feel sick to consider I’d never touch Steven again. Taste him. “Stop it,” Gemma growled. “What? What?” One thing I wasn’t good at was feigning innocence in the face of her scrutiny. “You know what.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I’m trying not to.” “What the hell are you two whispering about?” Gary asked, walking backwards along the pavement in front of us. I saw at the end of the street, a few cabs waiting in the usual place for a taxi rank so we wouldn’t have to wait after all. “Nothing important,” I said. “Kit’s in grave danger of becoming human.” Gemma snorted, as if the chances of that seemed ridiculous to her. “Ugh. I don’t know why I bothered coming out tonight,” I muttered, already planning my escape. One drink. One circuit of the house. Taxi home. I definitely wasn’t going to stay the night.

**** “What’s this party for, anyway?” I peered out of the rear passenger side window as Gary, in front, paid the driver. I hadn’t thought to ask before now, after Gemma had said a couple of friends were having some people round and had left the invitations open to their house party. “Just because.” Gemma shrugged. “Go on, get out the car, then.” I did as she said. It was easier that way. “Besides,” she went on. “Some people have house parties just for the sake of it. No reason. You know…” Again, she hooked her arm through mine and it felt as if she were trying to keep me there, to be my anchor. As if at this late stage I’d try to make a break for it and she was determined to make me stay. “Some mad, crazy fools just have mates round for fun. You know what fun is, don’t you? ‘Course you do.” “Ha bloody ha, Crawford.” I tried not to shudder. Only part of my discomfort was caused by the architecture of the building outside which we now stood. A Victorian mansion converted into flats, it stood some way back from the road with a huge garden—lawn only, with borders of flowers I wasn’t horticultural enough to identify—and driveway. Not exactly what one would call a folly, it still wasn’t the most attractive of buildings I’d seen, but the turret-style windows at each corner of the building lent it something of the gothic. It didn’t look too Castle Dracula, though—no wolves howled outside the main double doors of the building. Just partygoers coming outside for a bit of fresh air, yelping at the cool breeze that www.total-e-bound.com

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even yet managed to penetrate their beer jackets. It was only eight o’clock, after all. Still too early to be proper drunk, as was no doubt their game plan for later in the evening. The gravel crunched under our feet, which made me wonder how easily and quietly I’d be able to sneak off later. If it was any sort of party the police would be called and I’d try to make a break for it in the ensuing confusion. Even if I got arrested and bundled into a meatwagon for committing the crime of even being present, at least that would get me away from having to socialise with anyone other than my cellmate. I hoped he was pretty. “Top floor, I’m afraid,” Gary threw at me as he jogged ahead, holding open the main doors as a couple of young ‘ladies’ in microscopic clothing teetered past on stilettos that had to be seen to be believed. One of them looked me up and down and Gemma muttered, “Don’t bother, love, he’s with me,” as we entered. “What?” I frowned. “Hey, Gary, don’t you have to buzz up to the flat?” “Nah, why bother? People are in and out all night when there’s a party on so we can get into the building easy enough.” “Shouldn’t you let them know we’re here?” “And be formally announced?” He laughed, leading the way up the grand, curved staircase. Most blocks of flats had a hall. A vestibule. A lobby. This former mansion, naturally, had a foyer. “Nah. We planned it this way, to arrive late so chances would be the doors would already be open once we got here. So you couldn’t back out.” “Why would I—” “Anyway. That girl was totally checking you out,” Gemma said. “Bit off, if you ask me.” “Was she really? And why—” “Yeah.” Gemma’s eyes widened as if she was surprised I couldn’t translate her super secret girl-code, or recognise whatever female-against-female transgression had been committed tonight. “Didn’t you see the way she looked at you? And me with my arm through yours?” She sucked her teeth in the perfect gesture of disapproval and borderline disgust. “I just thought…” “You are a good-looking bloke—”


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“Steady, you two,” Gary warned. “I might start to get jealous.” The echo of his words only partially drowned out some sort of wailing or singing coming from further up the stairwell. “What the hell?” “Someone singing.” Gemma shrugged. “Come on.” “Why do I want to mutter dead man walking?” I seriously wondered how angry Gemma would get if I turned tail and fled, but we reached the top floor, or at least nearly. The only thing separating us from the open front door at the top of the stairs was an extraordinarily pretty brunette wearing a blue and white striped sailor dress, with a ring through one eyebrow and a singing voice like a cat being put through a blender. “Oh, hiya, guys. You must be Kit,” she said, and my surprise at her knowing my name when I had absolutely no idea who the hell she was, was tempered only by my relief that she was no longer murdering what I thought was supposed to be a rendition of Come on Eileen. “Um…yes?” “Didn’t think much of my singing? I could tell by the look on your face.” “Well.” Gary inclined his head. “It was enthusiastic, I’ll give you that.” The girl, young woman, whoever she was, shrugged and smiled. Grinned, in fact, clearly not offended. “I was trying to sing louder than the crappy dance music they’re playing in there.” She nodded in the general direction of the flat’s front door, from which spilled light, noise, music and chatter. “Wouldn’t it have been better to sing in tune?” I blurted, receiving a dig in the ribs from Gemma for my trouble. “Do you mind? That fucking hu—” “Don’t worry about it,” the ‘singer’ told her. “Water off a drunk’s back. Where the hell has Jason got to with my drink? I sent him inside ages ago. Jesus. Anyway. You guys go inside if you want. I’m just gonna loiter out here.” As we clambered past her on the stairs, I caught her muttering, “To stop anyone trying to escape if they attempt to bolt.” I stopped, a couple of steps up from her, and Gemma’s arm through mine twitched. Tightened its grip. “Uh…” I shook Gemma off with some difficulty, and turned to look down at the bad singer with a penchant for facial piercings and nineteen-eighties pop songs. “Why would anyone try to escape?”


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“Oh. No reason.” She grinned over her shoulder, showing a dimple that under ordinary circumstances would have been adorably cute. Now, however, she just looked devious. “I just know what you’re like. Kit. Ah. There you are,” she added, looking past me to someone who’d just stepped out of the open door. “I thought I told Jason to get me another—?” “Oh, he got caught up arguing with someone about what music to put on next.” The latest arrival on the scene was a young man, in his mid-twenties maybe, tall and wearing all black. He handed the singer a glass of red wine and sat down beside her on the stairs. “So I brought you that instead. Couldn’t remember what you asked for, though, so you’ll have to drink it whatever it is.” She took a sip and saluted him with the glass. “You had me at merlot.” Her server groaned. “Your puns get worse and worse the drunker you get, Tiff.” My breath caught in the back of my throat and from the corner of my eye, I saw Gemma and Gary, at the top of this flight of stairs, stiffen. “Tiff?” “Yeah. And you’re Kit.” “How did you…?” “Gary and Gemma. We’ve spoken on the phone. While inviting them to the party.” “And me?” I frowned. “Was I an afterthought?” “Nah.” Tiff giggled. “You’re the guest star. The main attraction. The whole point to— Anyway. Have you met Isaac?” “I’m sorry, what?” Her flitting from one subject to another too fast for me to keep up made my head spin. This evening was confusing me already and it hadn’t even begun. “Isaac?” “Yeah. Isaac.” He companion gave a smile, said nothing, let Tiff do the talking. “His real name’s Isaac Beckett but I call him Isaac Cox.” “You…? Why…?” “Say it slowly, and think about it.” Isaac shook his head. “Her idea of a joke.” “It’s both a name and a job description.” Tiff raised her glass once more, before draining it in a couple of gulps. “Go get me another, there’s a good lad.” “Don’t we need to stay out here?”


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“What’s more important? Me getting drunk enough to fit both of you in later, or blocking the stairwell? Besides, I’m enough. If he”—at this, she nodded at me—“tries to get away, I’ll start screaming or throw myself down the stairs.” “Again?” Isaac sat up straight, shaking his head in obvious amazement. “All right, wait a minute.” Ice water zipped up and down my spine and I barely resisted the urge to shiver at the slow realisation of what was going on. “Um, Kit? Maybe we should go inside now,” Gemma began, but I shrugged off the hand on my shoulder, glared at Tiff. “Do you make a habit of throwing yourself down the stairs?” “Only when completely necessary. But, you know, tonight’s set-up might well be worth a suicide mission, so…” “Set-up?” “Oops, did I say set-up? I meant party! There’s nursery sandwiches in the kitchen, crusts cut off. Cucumber. Salmon. Even that godawful crab paste shite St—” “We really need to go in now, mate,” Gary said. “It’s getting cold out here, right? Brr. Chilly. Need a drink? Sure there’s plenty of beer in there, right, Tiff?” “Wait.” I pointed at Tiff. “You’re Tiffany?” “That’s me.” She grinned, raised her glass, saw it was empty, and the grin fell away. “Bugger. Oh well, anyway, yeah. I’m Tiffany.” “That’s Isaac.” “Jesus, this guy’s catching on quick, isn’t he?” Isaac muttered, shaking his head slowly. “Yes, that’s Isaac,” Tiffany confirmed. “And this is my housewarming party. Welcome to my humble abode. We’ve only lived there for a few weeks, but now we’ve got it all decorated, we’re ready for visitors, so…” “We? As in you’re the girl with two boyfriends, right? Jason and this guy.” “Isaac Cox, both a name and a job description.” “Tiff, Tiff, you’ve already told that joke,” Isaac said. “Have I really?” “Yes, you—” “Are you sure? I could have sworn—”


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“Yes, and the ‘had me at merlot’ pun. Every. Fucking. Time.” Isaac rolled his eyes. “The drunker she gets, the worse her jokes. You guys go ahead, help yourself to a drink. There’s plenty in the kitchen—” “And sammiches!” Tiff shouted, completely mispronouncing the word in her drunken state and not caring one bit, I guessed. “Don’t forget the nursery sammiches. Took fucking ages doing them, I did. Cutting the crusts off. They make your hair go curly if you eat them, you know.” “Sammiches?” I echoed. “I mean, sandwiches?” “No, bread crusts. Didn’t your grandmother ever tell you? Eat your crusts, they’ll make your hair curl? I hate curly hair. ‘Course, someone in the family got the curly genes, and me? I got the hair straighteners. Never leave home without them. Luckily, this is my home, so—” “Yeah, this is your flat? You live here?” “We do, yeah.” “You and Isaac? And Jason, wasn’t it?” “No, them? God no.” Tiff grimaced. “They’re my harem, but I couldn’t stand to live with either of them.” “More like we couldn’t stand to live with you,” Isaac put in. “You shut it, or I won’t let you on backdoor duty again.” “Ugh. Oh God. Too much information.” Behind me, Gemma groaned. “I don’t even want to think about…” “More’s the pity,” Gary murmured. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” I shrugged. “It’s not so bad if you go slowly and use lots of… Anyway, look. Tiff? So you said ‘we’ lived here. If it’s not Jason or Isaac, then…” Fuck, fuck, fuck, please tell me I’m wrong. No, let me be right. No, I’ve never wanted to be wrong so much in my life. “Ah.” Tiff cleared her throat and for what I guessed was the first time in a long time, looked sheepish. She barely met my eyes as she spoke. “Yeah. I kinda live with my brother. I believe you two are acquainted?” “Fuck.” “I believe such an activity occurred between you, yes. Um, could I interest you in a—” “Steven?” Somehow I managed to choke out the word, feeling relieved and terrified and so. Fucking. Gullible. “Steven lives here?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Yes.” A sixth voice to add to the conversation appeared behind me and I turned on the stairs to look up at him, standing in the flat’s doorway. No frown, and no smile either. I couldn’t tell if he was majorly pissed off at my being anywhere in the vicinity or not. “Apparently I do.”


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Chapter Fourteen

“Oh shit,” Isaac muttered. “Come on, Tiff, time for us to go.” “I’m on guard duty. He’s not supposed to—” “Whatever, come on.” He clambered to his feet, dragging Tiffany with him. She’d obviously had a few and allowed herself to be dragged. The only thing that kept me rooted to the spot as opposed to fleeing down the stairs was the look on Steven’s face. The non-look, free of expression or any hint as to what he was feeling. “Gemma, maybe we should…” Gary reached for Gemma’s hand and pulled. “No, no, I want to listen to this. Kit’s gonna get his come-up—” “Now.” Even I jumped. I didn’t think I’d ever witnessed Gary answering her back or dishing out orders quite so vehemently. “Right, right.” She, like Tiffany, allowed herself to be pulled away into the flat, though she was far steadier on her feet. Tiffany had been drunkenly amiable, Gemma curious but sober and discreet. Steven? Oh, Steven leaned against the guard rail at the top of the stairs, glowering like he hated me. I couldn’t blame him. Didn’t mean I had to like it, though. I gripped the banister, not knowing whether it was to stop myself falling backwards down the stairwell, or throwing myself on his mercies. Throwing myself over the banister was, of course, an option, and becoming ever more attractive by the second. Less idiotic than merely falling, and less humiliating than asking him to forgive me and being shunned. “So.” He lifted one eyebrow, arching it in such a perfectly-executed gesture of disdain I would have winced, were I not so admiring. Admiration culled by the realisation he was literally looking down on me. Only by one or two steps, though. “I was set up,” I blurted out. www.total-e-bound.com

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The raised eyebrow stayed just so. “I didn’t know this was your place. Gary and Gemma invited me out. I mean, they kinda forced me.” Steven crossed his arms. Uh-oh. Not good. Very confrontational. Or closed-off at least. “If I’d known I never would have…” Oh shit, no. Exactly the wrong thing to say. “Right.” Unfolding his arms, Steven craned his neck, looking up to the ceiling as if searching for divine inspiration. I concluded he got no answer because all he did was rest his hands on his hips and glare at me, muttering “That’s quite something. I appreciate—” “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—” “No? Do you mean to tell me if you’d known I lived here now, you would have been okay with attending? Or is it closer to the truth you would have run as fast as you could in the opposite direction?” “Well, no, I…” I couldn’t think of what the fuck to say, nor let my gaze settle on anything. Looking at Steven hurt, and looking anywhere else gave the impression of cowardice. Which probably would have been an accurate description, but I didn’t want to give him outright confirmation of what a fucking wuss I was. “I didn’t think…” “No, please.” He held up a silencing hand—not with flattened palm like a traffic cop holding back the tide, but more like a repulsed onlooker who couldn’t believe the car crash he’d been forced to witness. He even turned his head slightly, like a man just as keen as me to bolt, but with more self-restraint and social graces. Wanting to turn his back but not wanting it to be obvious. “You don’t have to make excuses, Kit. I get it. You were tricked into coming here, and now you are, I’m guessing you’d really rather not be, yeah?” I expected him to turn away at that, head indoors leaving my ears ringing with the echo of a slamming door, but he paused. Waited. For what, I didn’t know. Then I realised. He wanted a reaction. A reply. For me to give him something. And I was clueless. Lost. I did what I always did. Backed off. I let one foot lower itself onto the step below; keeping my gaze fixed on Steven—for once—meant I caught the grimace, the twist to his lips that didn’t have to say out loud, I expected as much. And I waited for him to speak but he pushed his weight off the guardrail and turned to head for the front door. www.total-e-bound.com

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Ugh. Kit. You fucking idiot. “Wait.” He stopped in his tracks, but not for long. More of a flinch, a blip in his stride which he then continued. I bit my lip and gripped the banister even harder, as if it were a lifeline and I shot an angry glance at my own hand. More like a fucking millstone. “Steven. Fucking wait.” I reached the top of the flight of stairs without knowing how I’d got there, but knew it was the right place for me to be. “Okay, that’s…” I stopped the door with one thrust-out hand, imagining that Steven had enough pent-up energy in the arm which curved around the door’s edge to slam it back in my face. But I’d misjudged—yet again—and managed to push the door so hard it bounced back from its hinges’ limits and nearly hit Steven in the shoulder as he spun round to face me. “Look, I know you don’t want me here, but…” “But?” His lips thinned and his eyes flicked left, right, up, down, anywhere but at my face. I hated seeing that mouth so unforgiving and angry. It was made to smile. Right before I shoved my cock in it. “Well?” I shook myself out of it. Now is not the time to think like that, Kit. “I am here, so…” I shrugged. “And…” “I thought you’d want to leave?” “Do you want me to?” “Oh.” His shoulders sank. “Look, just…” One hand reached for the door again and the other gestured in midair, a half-hearted, couldn’t-care-less dismissal. Be gone, it said, with silent disdain. “No.” Steven flinched, as if unsure of what he’d heard. “What?” “I said no.” And I stepped inside the house, easily closing the door behind me because he, in his what the fuck are you doing state, didn’t—couldn’t?—fight back. “Hey, what the—would you get the fuck out of my house?” Music drifted out from the living room and down the hall, but I couldn’t name the tune. Partygoers switched between rooms, none of them paying us much mind. They were probably too drunk, or too into their own weekend state of mind to bother with two guys


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standing by the front door, one glaring at the other, his expression written all over with annoyance. “I’m staying.” “You’re what?” “Until you listen to me. Then I’ll…” I looked up, just like Steven had earlier, seeking that divine inspiration which had eluded him. “Then I’ll leave.” And I looked down again, and I saw Steven, and I didn’t want to leave. “You have something to say, do you?” “Um…” I rolled my shoulders, one after the other, before muttering, “Shit, I really hadn’t planned any of this.” “No, I got that impression when you let me know you’d been tricked into coming here.” “I didn’t think you’d want me here.” “And you clearly don’t want to be—” “Why are you?” “—because you—what? Why am I here?” “Yeah.” I nodded, and gulped back the huge knot of nerves threatening to close my throat completely. “Imagine I’m an idiot.” “That shouldn’t be too hard.” “And explain it to me like I’m stupid.” Steven lifted his damn eyebrow again and, Jesus fucking Christ, I wanted to kiss him. “I mean, why did you…” I glanced up the hallway as the foot traffic between the front room and others became a little too invasive when it came to our little confrontational bubble. “Why did you move out?” “At the risk of sounding like the kind of whiner I don’t want to be…” Steven crossed his arms and leaned a little, just a little, closer. Made the conversation conspiratorial. He still hated me, or the way I’d treated him, but this thing was a little less ‘you and me’, a little more ‘us’. “I’m more than a little surprised you even noticed I’d gone.” “You left when I was—” Again, we were disturbed—or I was—by people, people, bloody people. They paid us hardly any attention but I was so fucking jumpy I couldn’t let myself rest. I didn’t want to do this with people looking on, possibly listening or hearing at least, eavesdropping on something that should remain private and—


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“At work?” Steven had never sneered at me but he came very close to it then. “I wanted to make it clean. Kit, we’d been avoiding each other for days. I was just drawing a line under something that was already gone.” Don’t say that, don’t say that, please don’t say that. His jaw clenched as he stood back again, leaning against the opposite wall. But he hadn’t told me again to get the fuck out of his house, so I was good. For the moment. “But you…” “You’re not very good at finishing sentences are you?” “But you never even said anything.” A sharp bark of laughter which stabbed me, though it hardly made a dent in the noise and chatter coming from the living room. “I left you a note.” “Yeah. The note.” I’d read it more times than I cared to acknowledge and I’d even fucking kept it, in a drawer in my room. “Nice touch.” “I think it said everything about why I left.” “You think…” Another pause, and I didn’t want to leave this sentence unfinished. Hell, I didn’t want to leave the conversation unfinished. The only way out is through, Blackman. “You think I ran away?” “Ran away, pushed me away, what’s the difference? Kit.” He eased his weight off the wall and I wondered if he was about to show me to the door. “Everything you said was all well and good, but everything you did pretty much insulted me. I mean, I know you’re out, so that’s not the problem, but…” He bit his lip, drawing my attention to his mouth, something that was so easy to do with lips like those, and our eyes met. He’d noticed me noticing. “I told you I wouldn’t let you turn your back on me again. But you did.” I couldn’t say anything to that. I wanted to cross my arms, or wrap them around myself, but I’d had enough of closing myself off. It still didn’t stop me wanting to turn tail and run away home, though. Just like always. And for so long I hadn’t been able to run away from Steven because he lived at the same address and even home wasn’t safe from the threat of— “Fuck.” My heart thudded, hurting my ribcage. “Fuck, I’ve really messed up.” This time when his eyes widened it was in genuine shock, I could tell. “That’s probably the most honest thing you’ve ever said.” “Yeah, well, I did, and I wish I hadn’t.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Not badly enough to do anything about it, though.” “I’m here now.” “Under duress. You were tricked into it.” “And I stayed, even when you told me to get the fuck—” I stopped when yet another partygoer, reveller, drunkard, interloper, whatever, hovered in the living room doorway and staggered to what I could just see from this angle was the kitchen. A steady hum of voices drifted out of that room, punctuated by the clink of bottles and glasses. All the cool people gathered in the kitchen at parties. There was some law about it, or unwritten rule. “I stayed, when you told me to leave.” “Now you know what it feels like.” “What?” “Nothing.” Steven rolled his shoulders, not shrugging exactly, more working out a kink. “You’re still here.” I wasn’t sure what to make of the accusation, whether he expected me to reply or vacate the premises, and he said nothing further to enlighten me. Right. Okay. I bit my lip. Come on, Blackman. Make a move. “Jesus,” Steven muttered, shaking his head and looking down at the laminate flooring. Whether it was that, or my hearing becoming extra sensitive in his presence, the tap-tap-tap of his impatient foot was louder than usual. “You’re such a fucking pussy about this.” “Oh, shut up. I’m trying to—” “Let me get this straight. You refuse to leave my home, then you tell me to shut—” “Look, will you just—” “Make me.” “What?” “If you want me to shut the fuck up in my own home, then you’re welcome to try and make—” He ended up against the wall again and I must have had something to do with it because my hands were gripping his upper arms, the short sleeves of his T-shirt hiding where I knew the tattoos to be. The abrupt cessation of his mocking laughter deafened me; he was shocked, and I was worried.


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“Did I…” I gulped, deciding that ‘trying again’ wasn’t good enough—I had to finish my sentences or Steven would just take the piss again and I’d never get my point across. “Did I hurt you?” Steven shook his head slowly. “Nope. You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to hurt me, Kit.” “I never wanted—” “But you did.” My grip on him slackened but not enough to break contact. “Hadn’t you better let me go?” And even though nothing in his posture or muscle tension told me he thought of me as a threat—more like an irritation—I did so, by degrees. My grasp became nothing more than laying my hands on him and when I finally broke contact, Steven gave a quiet, mocking laugh. “I mean,” he went on, “you wouldn’t want anyone to see you touching another man, would you?” “What do you mean?” This made no sense. He’d told me to leave, but hadn’t made me, as he so easily could. He’d suggested I let him go and I had but he did nothing to move away from me. If anything, his self-confidence mocked me. He felt far more comfortable standing in his own skin than I did touching it. “I’m out. Everybody knows—” “Yeah. Everybody knows you’re gay. You just don’t want anyone to know you’re human. I don’t think there’s much danger of that any more. You’re a fucking robot, sometimes, Kit. I mean you—” The thought, my God, he tastes good, drifted through my mind and only afterwards did I realise I wasn’t imagining it. If, for a nanosecond, I’d felt him resist, I would have stopped; I would have disentangled my hands from his hair and pulled away, but there was no resistance, just tension born of shock that I’d dared, then he melted against me. I knew I had him when his hands came to rest on my waist, resting there for a second before he pulled me in. He might have melted against me but one part was still hard. “Are you sure you should be doing this?” Steven murmured. I hadn’t realised what was happening when I’d kissed him and now, I hadn’t realised who’d broken it, but at least he didn’t push me away. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Kissing you? Why?” He shrugged, glancing over my shoulder and nodding at the living room doorway. “People might see you kissing me and we can’t have that, can we?” I looked over my shoulder, wondering if he’d nodded at anyone in particular but there was no-one there. No-one watching us. When I looked back at Steven, he laughed. “You’re still scared someone might see you vulnerable. Or turned on, aren’t you?” “I don’t care about them. I don’t fucking care if they see.” Steven’s lips parted but he said nothing, giving a very good impression of a man surprised by what I’d said. “Is there someone else here?” Coming back to life, he rolled his eyes. “Kit, there are lots of other people here. Tiff, Jason, Isaac, Gemma, Gary, others. My mates. Then you.” “You know what I mean. Have you got someone else here?” Jesus, now I sounded like a crazy bastard. “No. No. What the hell do you think I am? Do you think—” “I’m staying.” “Oh, you’re—you’re staying?” “Yeah.” Only then did I realise I was still touching him, palms laid flat against his chest by now, no longer holding him against me, pulling him by the hair or arms, just touching. As soon as I noticed, I lifted my hands away. “Yeah, I am.” “Even though you’re not wanted here?” He smirked, daring me to argue. “Gemma and Gary want me here.” The smirk disappeared. “They tricked me into coming so they must have thought it was a good idea, and if you kick me out, you’ll have to disappoint them and you did invite them, right? I mean, they’re still your friends and you can’t embarrass them by telling me to piss off—” “Fuck off, Kit. I believe I told you to fuck off.” “Semantics.” I shrugged. “I can’t believe you were determined to get me out of your house and now you won’t leave mine.” “Now I’m here, I might as well stay.” I backed away a step, adjusted the hang of my jacket across my shoulders by shrugging, then ran a hand through my hair. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Might as well,” Steven echoed, and this time I couldn’t tell if he was mocking, agreeing or simply rolling the words around his tongue to see how they fit. And he cleared his throat. “We’ll talk about this later.” I didn’t know if I audibly exhaled in relief, but the pressure inside me eased just a little. A minor victory. But now I had the rest of the evening to get through. I was certain Steven would torture me first before talking, to ensure I suffered a just punishment for treating him so dismissively. Circulate, entertain his guests, have nothing to do with me in public, but I probably deserved it. And it was a start.


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Chapter Fifteen

So I was hyper-conscious of Steven all evening, shooting glances his way at every opportunity? It was entirely mutual. He’d lever himself off the floor—the settee and armchairs being already overloaded with houseguests—and head to the kitchen to grab himself another beer; my eyes would follow his course automatically. I’d step past him on my way to the bathroom; he’d run a hand through his hair and catch my eye with a tilt of his head. We made our mutual attention more obvious with our failed efforts to completely ignore each other. Gemma’s efforts failed too. Her attempts to not look smug met with as much success as Gary’s. Look at you two, trying not to look at each other, her frequent smirks said. I would have told her to shut the hell up if acknowledging my discomfiture at merely being there wouldn’t have made her grin even wider. Plus, Gary. Actually, it was more like ‘Gary plus alcohol equals Kit keeps his mouth shut’. As the evening wore on I got more and more jumpy though I hoped I hid it well, covering over my inner turmoil by—and I could barely believe it myself—socialising. Antisocial Kit Blackman, actually starting conversations with people he didn’t know to distract him from the one man he wanted. Needed. And it wasn’t half bad. I started off by using these fellow partygoers as a prop, and found out I had shit in common with them. An interest in this sport or that, an opinion on some politician or another. A liking for any random television show. Fifteen minutes into a chat with an attractive blonde with a cleavage I’d have wanted to lose myself in if I’d been straight, I happened to glance across the room and catch Steven smiling at Tiffany about God knew what and my breath caught in my throat. It was only when his eyes met mine that I regained my ability to exhale and continue the conversation with Anna. Bloody hell, Kit—what’s come over you? At a housewarming party, talking to people, remembering their names. “Would I be wasting my time if I asked for your number?”


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“I…” Startled, I widened my eyes and wondered if I’d heard her right. I took a swig of beer to calm my nerves, ever conscious of not drinking too fast. I wanted all my faculties intact for the conversation ahead of me, even if I had no idea of what I’d say. “Or are you a friend of Steven’s?” Anna suggested, politely giving me an out. “Um…” My face heated up and I gave a watery smile. “Damn it. It’s always the good-looking ones. I should have known. Well-dressed. Sober. Gay. Still.” She shrugged, gave a playful, no-hard-feelings smile. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” “I’m flattered and if I ever switch sides…” “I’ll be first in line.” The conversation petered out with no hard feelings on either side and in fact my fragile ego received something of a lift. I believed I may even have smiled to myself as Anna left to go and search for her friends before heading home. “Kit Blackman, are you actually talking to people?” Gary leaned against the kitchen countertop and gave me the unfocused, glassy-eyed smile of the happily drunk. “Screw you.” “I’m not your type.” “You’d be surprised, sugar.” “Hey, I’m not that fucking drunk.” He stood up straight—or at least tried to—and wobbled a little. Actually, a lot. “Gemma just called a cab. Says I’m drunk, apparently, and we’ve got to go home for some mad monkey sex before I get brewer’s droop—” “Jesus, Lacey.” “Do you want to come? I mean—no, God. I’m not inviting you. Like I said, I’m not that drunk. I mean. Are you sharing our cab, or coming back later?” I shook my head to rid it of the horrific images a pissed Gary had painted there, thinking Anna would have been a better bet. “I was gonna hang back. See if I can…” “Sort things with Steven? Yeah, we thought it’d look good if you stayed. Me and Gemma, I mean. Least you guys aren’t at each other’s throats. Maybe other bits.” “Shut up, Lacey. Don’t you have a home to go to?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Don’t worry…” Guests drifted away. Gary and Gemma jumped in that cab. Others said they’d walk each other home. Some called friends to ask for a lift, or to suggest a carpool. Those looks www.total-e-bound.com

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between Steven and I got more frequent, more lingering, less surreptitious. The fewer people there were around to witness this silent communication, the less chance there was of me making a fool of myself. And it was only when Tiffany and her dual paramours were the only other people in the flat that I realised I didn’t care. I’d already fucked up beyond all recognition anyway. Hopefully it wasn’t fucked up beyond all repair. “And to think.” Tiffany flung an arm round Isaac’s shoulders. Or maybe it was Jason’s. I was sober, but too close to the end of the night to care. Too close to Steven. “The police weren’t called this time.” “Yeah.” Steven grinned. “We’re winning with tiger blood on that score.” “Wait.” The only non-Kenton family member in the narrow hallway—Jason and Isaac, as harem members, still counted in that respect—I felt like a bit of an interloper but spoke up anyway. “The police weren’t called this time?” “Yep.” Tiffany nodded, grinning widely. Pride shone out of every pore. Pride or shamelessness, one or the other. “Last time one of Steven’s mates got arrested. Oh, and my ex fell asleep on the pavement outside and woke up with glittery stars glued to his nuts.” “Thank God we never let you have that housewarming you suggested back home—” I looked at Steven, biting my lip as I did so, wondering if any reference to us having lived together was not to be mentioned, but he shrugged, casual, nonchalant and effortlessly sexy— No, Blackman. Don’t think like that. But it was hard not to. “Wait,” I said again. “Your ex. But I’ve just managed to wrap my head around these two…” “Just as I wrap my legs around them most nights.” That shameless grin again. One couldn’t help but adore her. Steven groaned. “I don’t wanna think about that.” “Fine, fine.” She turned to me again. “See how protective he is? So sweet. So pukeworthy. But yeah. Darren was my ex before I met these two. No wonder. I mean, it’s bad enough falling asleep on the pavement outside, but to let someone glue glitter and paper stars to your nuts? Jeez.”


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“I know I’m gonna regret asking this, but why was your friend arrested?” I asked Steven. “He was the one who did the glu—” “Okay, okay, I don’t wanna know. Forget I ever asked.” Jason threw his head back and laughed. “Nice meeting you, Kit, but we’d better be off. Tiff, we’ll head out and give you a call in the morning.” He leant down to kiss her, as did Isaac and I politely refrained from asking why neither of them were staying. As I glanced across at Steven again, he shook his head. Don’t ask. Tiffany saw the last two stragglers to the door, said her goodbyes then wished us good night and disappeared into her bedroom. The door clicked shut behind her and I looked from it, back to Steven. “And then there were two,” he said, still leaning against the wall as he had earlier soon after my arrival. But now he looked languid and relaxed, rather than confrontational and shut off. Or so I fancied. “Well?” My eyes widened automatically. “Well what?” “You came here. I thought you had something to say. Excuses to make, no?” He straightened, uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. His gaze was unwavering and that was the only thing that told me I still had his full attention. I had to look at him to know he was still willing to listen. “No. I mean, not excuses. Jesus, you like to put me on the spot, don’t you? Say nothing all evening then jump straight into it.” “I had guests to see to. It would have been impolite if I’d dragged you into some dark corner for a blowjob and a deep and meaningful conversation.” “I stayed for the conversation, but I don’t know what to think—” “Yeah, silly of me. Blowjobs never seem to end well with us.” “Oh, I don’t know, one or two have…um…yeah.” Awkward now, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, scratched at my ear with one hand, wondered what to do with the other. I knew what I wanted to do with it. “That time in the bathroom. I still think about that.” “I try not to.” Ouch. “I probably deserved that.” I continued tugging at my earlobe, avoided his gaze for a moment while I gathered my thoughts. “You know, anything I can think of to say, it just makes me sound like a dick.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Let’s just assume you’re a dick anyway, and take it from there.” “Jesus,” I whispered. “Okay, look. Gary and Gemma tricked me into being here tonight, so I didn’t want to come—” “We’ve already established that—” “Just let me finish.” Steven pressed his lips together and nodded, a silent go ahead. “I didn’t want to come, but when I got here I wanted to stay. But…” I took a deep breath. “Not if you want me to go.” “It’s late.” “I could walk. Call a cab. Get the night bus. I don’t have to be here. I’ve already told you enough times that I want to be. I stayed all evening with a crowd of people I don’t even know. I don’t know what else—” “And you even talked to some.” “Yeah, it’s an evening of surprises, isn’t it? Look. I’m here now, but I’m not going to force my company on someone who doesn’t want me here. I’ve had enough of that before, so—” “With me?” “What?” “Do you mean with me? Forcing your company on me?” Steven’s brow wrinkled, but in a frown of evident curiosity. Not a scowl of frustration or anger. “You seem stuck on believing that I never wanted you—” “No. I mean with others,” I blurted out. “Exes and shit. You know. Falling out with old boyfriends. Making an arse of myself. Kinda like I’m doing now.” “Oh, I dunno. I kinda like your arse.” Ah. A chink in his armour. The temperature rose a degree or five. “Ah, I mean when you…never mind.” He waved a casual hand at me. “Carry on.” “Carry on being an arse?” Steven cleared his throat. “Whatever you were saying.” “Christ, I’m gonna sound like such an idiot saying this.” “So what’s new?” “You’re not helping.” “Sorry. Go on. Honestly. I’m listening.” www.total-e-bound.com

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“I haven’t been in a relationship for a while.” Steven’s eyebrows shot up and I waited for the inevitable no wonder, but it never came. “Mainly because the last one ended badly. You know. Fights. All over petty shit. We lived together.” “Oh.” “Yeah. Shared a flat. Anyway, there was a whole shit storm over taking over the tenancy agreement, neither of us wanted to be the one to move out, or being too proud to. Ex sex. For no reason other than we’d fight and get horny and…” “Angry sex?” “Yeah.” “Oh yeah.” Steven nodded, the vaguest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Well, well, well, Steven. Do we have some common ground here? “It got to the point where we’d still be insulting each other even while we were fucking.” “He really fucked you up that badly that you’d still…even these days…?” “No. No. I’m not carrying any, God, what’s the phrase? Baggage. Not from him, anyway. It was just the similarities. Living with someone. And I swore off anything serious. It worked.” I nodded. “It did. For a while. But with you, I didn’t want to make assumptions. I didn’t want to give you the impression I was hoping for anything more. In case I looked clingy. Put you on the spot. You know, what with the whole living together thing.” “And now we’re not.” “No. Now we’re not.” “I can’t work out whether that’s a good or a bad thing.” “Oh. Really?” I swallowed back a thousand things I could have said, prayed he would step in and fill the silence instead. “Good because you don’t feel crowded and panicky and what-if-this-shit-goes-wrong and bad because…” “Because?” “Well, it sucks not getting laid.” I snorted with laughter. Couldn’t fucking help it. But the laughter died in response to the okay, let’s get serious expression on Steven’s face. “Explain the not-looking-at-you stuff then,” he blurted out. “You what?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Go on. You never let me look at you. You never wanted me to fuck you face to face.” “Jesus, go for the burn, why don’t you, Kenton?” “No point wasting any more time, is there?” “You…” I pointed at him, tapping the air with an extended forefinger, keeping time with my thudding heartbeat. “You looked at me funny.” “Funny?” “Different. Weird. No. Fuck.” “Oh, look. Kit Blackman’s panicking again.” “All right, all right, I didn’t fucking like the way you looked at me.” “What, like I wanted you?” “Yes.” “You really are fucked up, Blackman.” “Yeah. That’s one thing we can agree on. Maybe there’s no fucking reason for it. Maybe I’m just a screw-up. I don’t need psychoanalysis, just…” “Psycho anal sex?” I tried to give him my be serious face, but hell, if humour was what it took to get us back to where we needed to be, so be it. Steven took a deep breath, so deep I saw his chest heave. “I’m going to bed now.” Oh. So that was it, then. A conversation without end. No resolution. “Well. Guess, I’ll—” “I thought you were staying?” Okay, Kit. Time to be bold. “Depends. No point bedding down on your settee if there’s a perfectly good bed at home, is there?” He inclined his head, studied me with narrowed eyes. Maybe he was trying to figure out whether or not I was joking. I didn’t even know myself. “Get in the fucking bedroom, idiot.” “You say the nicest things.” “I deserve to get away with it after the way you’ve treated me.” He pushed at my back with one hand, nudging me across the threshold to his bedroom. It was strange, seeing his things in the wrong room. But he lived here now.


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“So.” I turned to face him as he clicked the door shut behind us and nearly asked what now? After being the one to back off, I was the one concerned about what would happen in the morning. “I’m staying, then?” “Looks like it.” “And in the morning?” “In the morning you’ll freak out and leave.” Steven sighed, and the exhalation sounded wistful, full of regret. “How do you know?” “It’s what you’ve always done before. But…” He shrugged, and slipped his arms around my waist. “I let you, so I’m to blame as well.” Uh-oh. I didn’t like the way this was going. He had one eye on the morning after before we’d experienced the night before. And now I knew how he’d felt. Served me right, I supposed. “I could leave, but I’m still here,” I pointed out. “Yeah. How long for, I don’t know.” His lower lip dragged over mine in a kiss that wanted to be something more. “Nothing to stop us having a bit of fun, though, right?” He inched back, and there was an unspoken challenge in his words. “I’ll regret this in the morning. Unless something changes.” I tilted my head, but even from that angle, the expression on his face made no more sense. “If you’ll regret it, then—” “Ignore me.” He shook his head, pulled me closer. “Just tired. Drunk too much. The stress of moving. All that. Nothing important. I promise you.” He took another deep breath and inched his hands under my untucked shirt. I thought it was him who’d gasped but a second later realised the sound had come from my mouth. Jesus, it hadn’t been that long since he’d touched me, surely? Was I that addicted to him that his hands on my abs, then settling on my hips, made my head spin? “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” It took another second again for me to realise he’d spoken this time, and he startled, looked up at me sheepishly from behind his long lashes, as if he’d confessed something he should have kept secret. Steven hauled up my shirt; maybe a button pinged off; a seam certainly threatened to tear; that telltale zip rent the relative silence, our heavy breathing the only backdrop. www.total-e-bound.com

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“Wait.” I stopped, but Steven froze. Any obstacle I put in the way of us getting naked, in bed and fucking, must have seemed to him like a step backwards. I’d done it to him often enough. “Tiffany. In the next room. Won’t she…?” Did I have to spell it out? “You better not have decided you fancy my sister more than me, Blackman.” “Fuck no.” “Thank God for that—” “Privacy. That’s all. Nothing more than that.” “I wouldn’t worry about it. The bed’s not against the adjoining wall so I can get as violent as I like with you and she’ll sleep right through it.” “God damn it, Kenton.” We fell back onto his bed—the covers the same, but in a different room with the door in the wrong place and his personal belongings arranged incorrectly. He tore at my clothes, and I let him, too stunned by his speed and desperation to put the brakes on. Too worried about confusing him if I did. I’d let him do what the hell he liked to me if it convinced him I really wanted to be here. I broke off one of his desperate kisses to catch my breath and frowned. He paused too, one hand on his shorts, ready to pull them off and watched me. Waited for the panic that never came. The only thing that worried me wasn’t coping with him looking at me. It was what I’d do if he ever turned away. “I do want to be here, you know.” He cocked his head, dipped his gaze to my mouth. “Really.” Whether it was a question seeking confirmation or mere sarcasm I wasn’t sure. “Yeah, well, ‘here’ isn’t the thing. Just…” I shook my head. “Never mind.” The unspoken ‘with you’ would have been too much. Strange that I wanted to say it, but my main concern was whether or not he’d be able to hear it. Steven bit his lip and for a millisecond I thought I’d caused offence but all he was doing was reaching for the bedside cabinet. “Had to keep my shit on standby.” He laughed. “Didn’t think I’d get lucky tonight, though.” “What can I say? I’m a manwhore.” “Only for me, I hope,” he muttered, tearing at the foil packet, glancing at me and turning away again, his face colouring slightly as he realised I’d heard.


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“You’d be surprised.” I fell onto my back and waited for Steven to speak. Or touch me. To do something, but once he had the condom and lube on in record time, he slowed right down. “Well?” He lifted his eyebrows, nodded at me in expectation and it took a while for the penny to drop. “Oh. Oh.” He was waiting for me to turn over. Not this time. “Just come here, you.” I tugged his hair and, God, it felt good to be able to touch him like that. “Are you sure?” “Y—actually, no. But I want to.” I shrugged as best I could while horizontal and he moved over me. Nerves tangled our limbs and made us laugh quietly, exchanging uncertain looks which silently asked are you definitely sure and replied no, but yes too. Never more so. As soon as the tip of his cock touched me I half-groaned, tentatively held on to the knowledge we had to be quiet and discreet, then managed to turn it into a sigh. “You okay?” He slid in easily, with little resistance even though this position was unusual for me. “Yep.” I nodded. “Yeah, just gimme a…” I wriggled as he settled himself inside me. “Gimme a minute to get used to it.” Steven propped himself up on both arms and watched himself pull back an inch then slide back in. And I watched him. “Fuck.” He bit his lip and chanced a look at me. The shudder that ran up my spine wasn’t a result of being observed. Not anymore. “I’ve missed this.” He bent down to kiss me, or so I thought, but ended up whispering something against my lips. “I’ve missed you.”

**** By the time it started getting light again I’d been awake for a while. Steven dozed beside me, one arm round my waist, and a leg hooked over both of mine as if unconsciously trying to stop me doing a bunk in the middle of the night. No chance of that. I was too exhausted. Physically so, at least. Something else kept me awake. The nagging urge to


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articulate that funny feeling behind my ribcage that wasn’t nerves or fear, but something that made me just as jumpy. I stretched my legs as best I could while still tangled up with another man, and Steven’s weight shifted. He yawned, and murmured something that sounded like, “You’re still here then.” “Uh-huh,” I said quietly. “You expected me not to be?” “Was waiting for you to make your excuses and leave.” I turned my head on the pillow to look at him, but his eyes were still closed and neither of us moved otherwise. “You honestly thought…?” One bleary eye under a thick black brow opened. “Can’t blame a guy for wondering.” His eye closed again and he nuzzled against his pillow. “Why would I go? I like being here.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, that damn clot of whatever it is behind my ribs again. “I like…” Gulp. “You.” “Hmm.” Steven didn’t open his eyes again and it must have been an occasion for unusual, out-of-the-ordinary feelings because for once I wanted him to. It wasn’t like last night when I’d accepted him looking at me. We’d both had a few beers, we got horny, I’d accepted it. Now I wanted him to look at me. Give me something, Steven. “You like me, eh?” Even with half his face buried in the pillow, the curve of his mouth was still visible. “That’s…that’s cute, Blackman. Real cute.” “Hey, I’m baring my soul here, and you’re calling me cute?” “Yeah, I guess for an emotionally-constipated hermit like you, that’s a big deal. Now shut up and go back to sleep if you’re staying.” I tried to come up with something to say to that, but his laugh interrupted me. It wasn’t cruel, just teasing. But the conversation wasn’t over yet. In for a penny, in for a pound of humiliation, I reasoned. “I l—” Oh, fuck it. Nerves choked me, and I turned away from him, stared up at the ceiling. “You l-what?” Steven whispered. “Nothing.” “Just randomly throwing L-words out there at stupid o’clock in the morning?” “Yeah.” “Like…llama?” www.total-e-bound.com

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“Llama?” I echoed, laughing, and his eyes crinkled up at the corners before he muffled a snort of amusement against my shoulder. “What the fuck are you smoking, Kenton?” “Shut up and go back to sleep, Blackman.” But even then, his shoulders shook with barely-suppressed laughter. It was a few minutes before he spoke again. “And I llama you too, you emotional cripple.”

**** “Fuck, fuck, arse. Shit, sorry.” Steven slammed his mobile phone shut and collapsed back onto the bed. “Forgot to switch the alarm off last night. Sorry. Got distracted.” I rubbed my eyes and yawned. “Time is it anyway?” I hauled myself up into a sitting position but refrained from swinging my legs over the side of the bed just yet. I’d have to get up at some point but didn’t want it to look like I wanted to get away from him. Especially given the half-asleep stupid fucking llama conversation we’d had a few hours before. “Half seven.” “Christ.” I fell back onto the mattress. “That’s far too early for a weekend morning.” “Get some more sleep if you want. I know I will.” “You’re determined to keep me unconscious in your bed, aren’t you?” “Fuck, no. Just need you to keep your strength up for round two, that’s all.” “Wouldn’t that require breakfast first?” “Jesus, you expect me to feed you?” “Either that or let me have a shower. Worked up quite a sweat last night.” “Oh yeah.” Steven smiled at the memory. I didn’t need to search through my mind’s eye. I had the bruises on my hips, the sore arse and a raspy throat from holding in the moans to prove I’d had a long night. “Fucking hate the walk of shame, though,” I muttered. “Even with a shower I’ll still have to put on yesterday’s clothes.” Steven cleared his throat. “Actually…” “Actually what?” I frowned, but his eyes were still closed and gave nothing away. “Ikinnagotemtostealyourshirts.” “What?”


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“I kind of…” He shrugged, only with one shoulder, the other being crushed under the weight of his body and a sizeable chunk of embarrassment, judging by the colour of his face. “Might have got Gary to steal some of your shirts and pass them on. To me. Just for…you know…” “You did what?” “When we…” Still his eyes stayed shut, but his eyebrows lifted, giving him the bizarre look of someone both half-asleep and sheepish at the same time. “Arranged the invite. To the…thing. You know. Housewarming.” “Wait. You invited Gary and Gemma last night?” “Yeah. Course. They’re friends.” “And you got them to steal my… Is it my fucking blue T-shirt, the one I thought I’d…?” “There may have been some preparatory, uh, arrangements made, yes. Possibly.” “And when did this happen?” “A few days ago. Not that I had anything to do with it.” Steven cleared his throat again. “All Gary’s idea. Honest.” “But you just said you got him to—” “All right, all right, it was my idea. Sue me.” “Wait a minute—that means you knew all along I’d be here?” He shrugged. And at long last opened his eyes to look at me. “Hoped you would be.” “And you hoped I’d stay over too, obviously.” “Obviously.” “So you made…you fucking put me through all that…made me say that…stuff.” “About llamas? Yeah. I’m such a bastard. Cup of coffee? Croissants? I’m hungry all of a sudden. Lovely morning, isn’t it—” “Where are they?” “Gary and Gemma? Back at your place, I guess.” “No. My shirts. More than one went missing. I assumed Gary had been thieving in my wardrobe again.” “They’re…” He pointed to his own wardrobe. “Hanging up. Freshly laundered. I even ironed them.” “You?”


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“I wouldn’t let Tiff do it, would I? Have you seen the shit she wears? She wouldn’t know an iron if it smashed her in the clit-ring.” “Tiff’s got a clit—? Look, I don’t wanna know.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, braced myself and headed for the other side of the room. Steven sat up in bed and watched me, bleary-eyed, sheepish and, I suspected, trying not to laugh. “You stole my favourite shirts.” Three of them, hanging in Steven’s wardrobe. “You sneaky bas—” “No, see, I merely re-located them. For your convenience.” I clicked the wardrobe shut and stood for a moment with my hand on its door, before returning to stand by the bed, hands on my hips. Steven’s gaze dropped to the one part of me that definitely wasn’t still half-asleep. “Shame to waste it,” he murmured. “Sorry. Anyway. You, uh…shower, is it?” He ran a hand through his hair and awaited my verdict. “Or…?” I threw myself down onto the mattress, laughing even harder at the look of pale-faced relief on Steven’s face. “Actually I quite fancy a lie-in if that’s all right with you?” “Thought you’d never ask,” he said before pulling me against him. Nope. I definitely didn’t need to get dressed and go home. I was naked, and already there.

Coming Soon from Total-E-Bound Publishing:


Temporary Position Scarlett Parrish Released 31st October 2011

Excerpt Chapter One

Three months ago I attended a staff dinner dance too far from home to make for a comfortable, quick drive back. Besides which, I wanted to have a drink, so I opted to book a hotel room for the night. That way I could taxi back and fall into bed within minutes of leaving my work colleagues if I fancied. I hadn’t had too much to drink—only a few glasses of wine, and white, at that. Even one glass of red was enough to send me loopy. I’d thought I was playing it safe. Cue a casual conversation with Sebastian, a suggestion that, as he and Tyler were carpooling, they could drive me back to wherever I was staying… Before I knew it, I was in a car with the two best-looking Pearson’s employees in the region, desperately chanting to myself, Don’t say anything stupid, Jess. Don’t say anything stupid. Turned out Tyler—the Manager of his store no less—was the one to take that step. And he was the designated driver, stone cold sober. After pulling up outside my hotel, he looked over his shoulder and smirked. “Here we are.” “Yeah.” His smile was infectious—I couldn’t help returning it. “Here we are.” I’d not yet laid my hand on the door handle. It would have seemed rude to just hop out and go upstairs, but by the same token I had no idea how to wrap up the conversation. “Would you think I was pulling rank if I mentioned a goodnight kiss?” I knew I hadn’t had that much to drink, and alcohol always seemed to affect my www.total-e-bound.com

balance and speech first of all, anyway. Not my hearing. Three glasses of white spread over the whole evening, with a meal and soft drinks, too… I definitely wasn’t tipsy enough for my ears to have stopped working. “I…what?” “Jesus, Ty.” Sebastian, who worked in the same store as Tyler, as his menswear manager, play-punched him on the arm. “You’d take advantage of a drunk woman?” “I’m not drunk.” “See?” Tyler held up both his palms in a perfectly-executed gesture of innocence. “She’s not drunk.” “Yes, because that’s exactly what a sober person would say.” “Are you accusing me of…?” I began, but the look on Sebastian’s face halted me in my tracks. God damn it—I’d been talking to him all night and never seen him in that light before. The half-light as it was, from some nearby lampposts and the neon sign of my hotel. He was leaner than Tyler, but in no way less of a presence. There was a quiet intensity to him that I’d noticed during our conversation that evening, an ability to make me feel like the only woman in the room. It wasn’t that he’d stared at me while we conversed—that would have been too aggressive. But he’d paid attention and made me feel witty, urbane, like the sort of woman who stood a chance. I’d not had much to do with him up until now—we worked in different branches of Pearson’s—but this evening had thrown us together, almost like it was meant to happen. Like it was planned. A shaft of artificial light caught the contours of Sebastian’s face as his mouth widened into a teasing grin. I paid enough attention to him to see the silhouette of his eyelashes as he searched Tyler’s face for some reaction or other. “Well, if it’s a goodnight kiss you’re after…” Tyler’s head whipped around and he eyed me as I sat in the back seat, sitting erect but not moving. Not leaning any nearer to him. “…don’t let me stop you two guys.” “You what?” “Well, you seem very close. Work in the same store, hang out together…” “Hey, hey, come on. Ty’s my best mate but not…we’re not…” I lifted my eyebrows and took the opportunity to stare Sebastian down. I made out www.total-e-bound.com

just enough to keep my interest up and my nerves down. “No?” “Fuck, no.” “I would have thought… Two good-looking guys…” And my blood pressure inevitably rose a few notches. No, I hadn’t had much to do with either of these two guys professionally, but when our paths had crossed of course I’d noticed them. I was the fucking Visual Manager at a sister store. Clearly not blind, for God’s sake. “Did you hear that?” Tyler laughed quietly. “At least she thinks we’re good-looking.” “Good-looking and…” I looked from him to Sebastian and back again. “Work colleagues.” “From another store,” he pointed out. “Even so.” “No goodnight kiss, then?” Sebastian asked, and I could have sworn he looked me down and up again in a flirtatious instant. “Damn it. Maybe me and Ty will have to…” “Now that would be seriously hot.” The words were out before I could stop them and if we’d lingered in broad daylight, they would no doubt have laughed at the burn spreading across my cheeks. “I mean… Jesus, I’d better…” I groped for the door handle and missed. “Come here.” He tilted his head, motioning for me to near him, and three glasses of wine, a few months of being single and sheer bloody curiosity and want made me.

Pre-order your copy here: http://www.total-e-bound.com/comingsoon.asp


About the Author Scarlett Parrish was born at a young age on Planet Earth where she still spends most of her time. Possessed of an unholy lust for James Purefoy, she sometimes ventures out to stock up on chocolate, hurrying home again before the sun burns her to a cinder. Once James realises she's the only woman who can make him happy, she plans to rise up, take over the world and have a nice cup of tea. Clearly, she forgot to take her medication before writing this author bio, but she does have splendid taste in music, the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound and no idea why she's talking about herself in the third person. Email: [email protected] Scarlett loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

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