The Other Man (The Other Man Series Book 1) (12 page)

It started as a game, as a final ‘fuck you’, like somehow he’d be the one who suffered if I gave him a taste of what he’d given me. It would never have worked but the shock of feeling him swell on my tongue made my blood heat. I pulled back, sucked lightly on the tip and then lowered my head. His moans of pleasure spurred me on, I wanted to prove that I wasn’t the person playing mind games...by playing games with his body instead.

Pre-cum leaked on to my tongue as I licked the underside of his cock and swallowed his length. I groaned as his taste filled my mouth and pulled his hips closer, taking him as deep as I could. I gagged and he tried to pull back but I forced myself to relax and took him deeper still. He locked his knees to stay upright and that’s when it hit me. Being on my knees for him wasn’t about giving him control or power over me. I held all the control right in the palm of my hand.

Or in my mouth, as the case may be.

The thought made my dick weep. I couldn’t give this up even if I wanted to. Although, I just wasn’t sure that I actually even wanted to anymore.

I replaced his cock in my mouth with my own fingers, soaking them in moisture, “What were your words to me, Zach? Just relax, let me own all of this…”

I reached in between his legs, fondled his balls, then moved further and slid my fingers between the cheeks of his ass. The heat radiating from his tight ring made me shiver in anticipation. Instinct made me push one finger inside his body, and lust made me add the second. Zach grabbed hold of the weight rack to hold himself up and bit out a muted, “Fuck!”

My fingers pulsed in and out of his ass, my mouth worked his cock and his hips pistoned forward as I sucked harder.

“Fuck, fuck! Please…”

I buried my fingers deep, determined to make him lose control. The first streams of cum shot to my throat and my breathing faltered. I wouldn’t fail him though. I scissored my fingers, stroking his inner muscles as they tensed and contracted and he moaned my name as he filled my mouth with his seed.

I. Was. Lost.

Reckless decisions. Wayward thoughts. Uncontrollable lust. There were any number of reasons that my mind had taken me to a place that I couldn’t come back from but none of them seemed to be enough.

I pushed up from the floor, looked around in desperation and headed towards the stairs in search of bathroom. It was becoming a nasty habit of mine, but the need to escape was too powerful. I turned the lock behind me and rested my hands on either side of the bathroom sink. Staring at myself in the mirror, I didn’t recognise the man staring back at me. Since when was a blow-job, a punishment?

My face looked the same, but at the same time, couldn’t have been more different. My jaw still prominent, my nose still slightly curved and my hair still longer on the top than the sides. But the change was in my eyes. The green of my irises looked deeper, like you could fall in and be trapped there forever.

The answers to all the questions swirling in my brain was hidden in those eyes. They were my own, but even I couldn’t get inside.

I smacked the sides of my head with the heels of my palms.

I felt like I’d fucked up a lot in my life, but nothing as monumental as this. Somehow, I’d figured it wasn’t quite as bad if Zach was the one making the first move, but the second, the third? That was all me. At any time I could have, and should have, told him to back off. Told him he was wasting his time because I was a happily married man.

And therein lay the issue.

Because I
wasn’t
a happily married man.

I was fucking miserable.

My wife didn’t really like me, no matter what she claimed. I spent more time at work than at home. I was learning new things about myself that I wasn’t sure I liked, and more than anything, I was falling in love with a man faster than I could think to stop it.

I swung the bathroom door open, bound and determined to storm out of Zach’s front door and never look back but when I stepped forward and straight into the man himself, all my good intentions fled.

“Are you going to leave?” He asked nervously.

I hated the timid way he spoke. Despised it. He wasn’t fucking timid or nervous. He was supposed to the one who had his head together, the one who could tell me exactly what I was doing.

I shook my head, not meeting his eyes, “I don’t know, Zach. I should leave...” I trailed off, not entirely sure what I wanted to say.

“I know,” he whispered. “This is a whole new level of fucked up, Blake. You know that right?”

“Of course I fucking know that,” I spat.

“Look,” he sighed. “I refuse to do this. Look at the state of you, you’re a mess and I’m half the problem. You’re not happy. Just...just go home and talk to Carlie. I know what I think you should do but…”

“It’s so easy for you isn’t it? So simple. I’ve known you three weeks, Zach! Three goddamn weeks and you’ve turned my world on its head. Now, what? You think I should go home and tell my wife to fuck off because I’ve decided I want to try cock for a bit?”

“I never said you should leave her for me, Blake, so don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just trying to help. In
your
life, she makes you unhappy. Ask yourself why are you really sticking it out?”

Driving my hands into my hair, I growled, “I don’t fucking know, ok? Is that what you want to hear? That I don’t know why we bother staying together.”

“Stop thinking about what I want to hear! Think about what
you
want.”

“I need time. I need you to give me time,” I decided.

“Then that’s what you’ll get. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“No,” I put my hand on his forearm. “I’m going to phone a taxi. I need time, and when better to start than right now?”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, “Alright, go.”

It was said softly, but I still caught the hint of disappointment in his tone. I ignored it because if I didn’t, I’d never leave his house at all and it was something that I had to. I heard Zach calling a taxi and I ran to his car and retrieved my bags.

“I never meant for this to happen you know?” He said whilst I waited for the taxi. We were standing on the front porch because I couldn’t allow myself to go back inside. “It wasn’t like I planned this. Don’t get me wrong, that first night, it was never about Carlie. She used to be a nice enough woman, always self-centred but still sweet. And she’s beautiful, insanely so, but it wasn’t about her. It was always about you.”

I clenched my jaw, “You’re a lot of things, Zach, don’t add ‘liar’ to the list of them. You’d never met me before that night.”

“True. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t about you.
All
about you. Do you actually know how long I’ve known Carlie?” He asked and I shook my head, I had no idea. “Two years, Blake. Pro-Weight’s has been mine since two weeks before my twenty-fifth birthday and she was a member already when I took over. Oh she couldn’t wait to talk, like it was some insatiable need she had. My husband this, my husband that, look at this picture of him, or this one of us together. But it was never about how special you were. It was about how special
she
was because she had you. I don’t have secrets, as ironic as that is now. At the time, I think my openness made her feel threatened in a way, like she had a point to prove. When she started banging on about how lonely she was, how little attention she was getting, I found my way in. Call me sly, hell, call me worse, I don’t care. She offered the threesome and I accepted.
For you,
and for me. When you opened that front door, all pissed and angry because you thought I was after your wife, something I’d be thinking for a while, was confirmed...your taxi’s here.”

Damn that man for always managing to crawl his way that little bit further into my mind. I believed every word he said because the words were so raw, you can’t fake that sort of thing.

“Time, Zach. Just give me time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

I jumped into the taxi, wound down the window and shouted, “Zach, wait!”

He turned back from the door and I asked, “What was it that you’d been thinking?”

His smile was somehow sad, but his eyes shone.

“That I’ve been in love with
you
, since the day I met
your wife.
”

The taxi pulled away from the curb and I sat back in the seat.

“Stop!” I shouted, scrambling forward.

“Give a minute, just, give me one minute and I’ll be back yeah?” I chucked the taxi driver a few quid to hang around and sprinted from the vehicle. My lungs burned from the few feet I ran, but I pushed through it. I hammered my fist on the front door and he swung it open.

I pulled him by the front of his t-shirt and crashed my mouth to his. He matched my force with his own desperation and clawed at my hair with his fingers. I sucked on his tongue, begging to keep his taste in my mouth for just a little longer, then pushed away. We were both breathing hard and my chest was rising and falling rapidly with the effort.

“Just time,” I said.

“Yeah, Blake. Just time,” he nodded.

Then I turned and jogged back to the taxi.

It was the longest drive home of my entire life.

Time.

It’s such an underestimated concept.

We never think about how the same amount of time can mean so much or so little.

You’re waiting in line at the bank, five minutes feels like five hours. You’re rushing to get that last job of the day done, five minutes feels like five seconds. Isn’t that odd?

It’s all about perception.

In annoyance or frustration, in longing or patience, you perceive time to be longer than it actually is. The exact opposite applied for me.

I just wanted a little time.

I had three months. Or ninety-eight days to be precise.

Life went on, nothing changed. I was stuck in a loveless marriage with a wife who I genuinely thought hated me. I was starting to think she lived to make my life miserable, like I was being punished. I took that punishment because I deserved it. I woke up every day feeling like the fraud that I was. I was acting at life. The new master of deception.

I went to work, I went home. Then I woke up the next day and did it all over again.

An endless cycle of misery and self-loathing.

It was pathetic.

“For fuck sake,” I growled in annoyance.

I had been staring at the station rota for half an hour and not making a single note. Every day was the same and my lack of concentration was quickly becoming an issue. Ian appeared in the doorway and I shook my head, “Didn’t you retire?”

My attempt at humour fled when he stepped inside my office and shut the door behind him.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked over the rim of his glasses at me, “I think you need to take some time off, Blake.”

I frowned, “I’ve only been back for five weeks. Why would I take time off?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you’re not the Blake that we all know and care about. You’re lazy, distracted, and sometimes downright ignorant and you’re going to lose the respect of those men out there.”

Ouch. That hurt.

“I’m fine, Ian. Yes, my head hasn’t been in the game lately but it’s all good. I’ll sort it. Thanks for the warning.”

“You don’t understand, Blake. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Take some time off. Two weeks, a month, just don’t come back until you’re ready to be part of a team again.”

My anger spiked but I breathed in and held it, to calm myself down.

“No offense, Ian, you know I respect you but that’s just not your choice to make,” I returned, shocked at his thoughts.

“That’s the way you want to do it? Fine. In that case, first thing tomorrow, I’ll be reporting all the failures from this station to the county manager and giving him my recommendation that the station manager should be replaced with immediate effect.”

I shot up from my chair, “You can’t do that! The county manager is your damn brother, he’ll fire me on the spot.”

“Why would he fire you if ‘everything is all good’ and ‘you’ll sort everything’? Legally, if you’re not doing anything wrong, the worst he can do is keep an extra keen eye on things here,” he said.

“Fine,” I spat. “I’ll take some time off, but fuck you for doing this to me. I don’t need this shit.”

His voice softened, “This is for your own good and you’ll thank me when you get back. What happens when a member of the team gets distracted, Blake?”

It’s a quote that we were all taught in the first week of basic training, it’s then drilled into you every day until graduation.

I sneered at him, “People die,” he nodded, but his face fell into a scowl when I finished. “Except that I’m not part of a team now, am I? I sit behind a desk, point fingers and write reports. So no, no one dies, no one gets injured...the worst that’s going to happen from me being
distracted
is that I’ll get a fucking papercut. You can shove your patronising shit where the sun doesn’t shine. How long are you going to be able to keep coming back here, Ian? You’re too old and you’re no better for this place than I am, or anyone else for that matter, yet you still think you’re the best thing that ever happened to that team out there. Well, newsflash old man, they’re
my
guys. You win this round, but don’t think you’ll be sitting in that seat for long because that’s my job, my office, and
my team
.”

I slammed the door behind me and stalked across the concrete floor towards the exit. I could feel the guys’ eyes on me but I was too enraged to talk to them. What gave Ian the right to come barging in making threats whenever he felt like it?

Fuck him. Fuck his cocky brother too. I knew that bastard would find a way to fire me if Ian told him to.

I slumped into the driver’s seat in my car and slammed my foot on the accelerator. Life just wanted to fuck me over in every way. The punishments just kept coming.

I made the journey home in half the time it usually took, only to find Carlie and her dad, both dragging suitcases over the front lawn. I jumped from the car and Roy scowled at me. I was
so done
with the whole day.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Carlie gave a ‘look’ to her dad, who shook his head and took both suitcases to his car.

“I’m leaving, Blake.”

“Why now?”

Why that day? Why that time? I knew she would leave eventually, and as awful as it sounds, I wanted her to. I wanted to rid myself of the guilt that was weighed on my mind for every second, of every day. But really, how much could one man take in the space of an hour?

She hiccupped, and a tear slipped from her eye, “We’re just not us anymore. I’m not leaving
you
though, I’m just leaving here. I think, if I go and stay with my dad for a bit, maybe we can work on being us again. I don’t know? We’ll date, we’ll go right back to the start and try again. Anything is better than this honey and you have to admit that.”

“I know, Carlie. Do you even think it’s worth trying? Or is this just it, and we’re done?”

“Don’t you think I’m worth it?” She returned, her voice rising and a scowl shadowing her pretty features.

And there it was. The real Carlie.

The whole ‘leaving’ wasn’t about her finding the right way to fix our marriage, it was about making a statement. I’m leaving so that you’ll realise how much you miss me and you start doing anything you can to get me back. Even her tears weren’t real. I stared back at her for a second, just wondering if I could find
anything
that I was still in love with; I came up blank.

When did I let this get so bad?

I should have left months ago. Possibly years.

“Honestly? I really don’t know anymore. You’re always angry and I’m always miserable. People don’t just wake up one day and change how they think. I don’t know if we’ve just grown into different people. I’ll try Carlie, but I make no promises.”

Her palm connected with my cheek and pain splintered across my face. Maybe honesty isn’t always the best policy.

“Fuck you, Blake Thomas. Damn right you’ll try, because I’m not giving up on this marriage. I refuse to be a divorcee.”

“Just go to your dad’s, Carlie, but listen,” I paused to make sure I had her full attention. “Don’t ever fucking hit me again, got it? You’re alarmingly close to losing whatever shred of class you’re still holding on to. I love my wife. I do, and I wouldn’t lie about that. Problem is that I haven’t fucking seen her in years. Honestly, Carlie, go to your dad’s, wallow in your own self-pity about your failed marriage and make sure everyone in the gossip tree knows what an awful husband I am. While you’re at it, make sure you take the time to think about
you.
It takes more than one person to break up a marriage and I think, when you delve a little deeper, look a little closer to home, you might find out a thing or two about yourself. Remember though, darling, You threw the blade, you just need to keep praying that it’s not you who lands on it.”

“Was that a threat?” She asked. Clueless.

“Jesus Christ!” I threw my hands up. “Were you always this stupid? I genuinely don’t know how we ever held a conversation. Just go.”

I slammed the front door and collapsed back against it, sliding down to the floor. I buried my face in my hands and roared.

Time.

What a fucking joke.