Antidote (Don't) (11 page)

I brushed gently at the soft hair on Jack’s arm. If this was how he was every time Gray Mastered him, I understood why Gray kept it private, why he’d never let it be filmed. It wasn’t how Jack performed mid-heat, how his cries could make you drunk as the need to satisfy them played havoc with the unskilled handler, but in the right hands afterwards, Jack became so quiet, every ounce of disorder, chaos, mouth, and attitude dropped. And there was nothing more calming on the soul to lie next to. Part of me swore that the search for that quiet was what drove Gray, because the moment Jack quietened, so did he.

But it would be a long time before my body was ready to do anything like that again. And if I’d been given the voyeur tag by Gray, maybe I could hide in it for a while. “Jack.” I gave him a tentative shake. “Hey.”

“Hmmm?”

“Jack, you’re going to be late for work.”

Giving a grumble, he grabbed the duvet and disappeared beneath it. “Fuck work.”

I chuckled and tugged it off him.

One grey eye came open. “Just a few more minutes, Mom, yeah?”

“Yeah, you lie there, cuddle up,” I said quietly, inching closer and drawing his leg between mine. “I’ll just go phone your garage and tell Sam you said he’s in charge for the day.”

“Huh?” That got his attention as his head came off the pillow, the links on the collar giving soft, subdued clinks. “You up for bankrupting me, Richards?”

I chuckled, then moved in for a kiss. “Just
focusing
you.”

He scowled, kissed me back, then hid back in the duvet. “But my ass hurts, my arms hurt, my hips hurt, my—”

“Petal got a headache too?”

I flashed my eyes at Jack as he came out from under cover and tried to look back at Gray. “Boss is up, baby.”

Up on his elbow, Gray looked down at Jack. “You getting your ass into gear? Because—”

Jack instantly eased his nakedness on top of Gray’s, quieting even Gray as he took him down to the bed. “Hmmmm, morning.” He gave Gray such a long and deep kiss. “Last night,” he breathed against Gray’s lips; then Jack looked at me, reached over, and pulled me in for a kiss, “fucking good.” He turned back to Gray and sighed. “Fucking love-the-bones-off-you both fucking good.”

Gray smirked. “For us working you?”

Jack nudged Gray’s cheek with his nose, asking Gray’s permission to lift his lips up for a kiss. I understood it now, the private signs behind asking and gaining permission to touch, and kept quiet while the tender protocol played out as Gray allowed him to kiss.

Jack finished tasting Gray, then murmured, “No. For being the bastard I’d always do.”

“Yeah? Love the bastard, huh?” Gray was trying hard not to look bothered. “Then get fucking dressed.”

Jack gave the biggest puppy-dog eyes. “Use me, lose me, huh?”

Gray reached up to stroke Jack’s jaw, then let the tips of his fingers slip down to the silver collar. Just between skin and silver grey leather, he played his touch along it, his look a little lost, then he finished by hooking a finger in the D ring. Cocking his head to the side and frowning slightly, Jack let himself be drawn down into a gentle brush of lips against lips.

No. Everything Gray needed to say was there, in that look, that kiss. He wouldn’t lose him; maybe use him in so many wicked ways, but never lose him.

Then he tipped Jack off onto the floor.

“Ah.
Fuck
. Right,” said Jack, a mass of legs and arms. I saved the cover but missed saving him as I cried laughter. Grey eyes came up, peering over the bed like a war machine coming in for a sneak peek before an attack. “Like that, is it?” A Dracula hand came into play, stretching long shadows over the duvet as it reached to pull it off.

“Touch that and you’re fucked MI5 style, Jack,” said Gray, not even looking.

The hand drew back, withered away into its own shadows, and I chuckled, watching as Jack grumbled his way to his feet. He reached up and tugged the silver collar off, mimicking Gray’s comment, then sliding the leather into the drawer. Gray went quiet, seeming to listen as the drawer slid shut, then as Jack headed over to the bathroom, his goddamn sexy ass and everything on glorious display, Gray turned his back on me and pulled the covers over him.

Frowning for a minute, I threw back my side of the covers, sat up, stretched, and then glared back at Gray’s clock. Six. Jack had had about two hours sleep. I felt rough so Christ knows what he was going through. After wincing as I pushed to my feet, I headed on through to the bathroom and relieved myself as Jack grouched like hell in the shower. Flicks of water came over, hitting my shoulder, my ass, and I shouted over my shoulder, “You know it’s me here, not Gray, right?”

Jack stepped out a few moments later and did his shaggy dog thing, shaking himself, with his wet hair soaking me.

“Yeah,” said Jack, coming over and turning me around for a cuddle. “Kind of figured that out when I didn’t get a cheese grater along my cock.”

Shuddering, I pushed his wet body away, and he huffed. “You too?” Those grey puppy-dog eyes came into play again. “Love me, leave me?” Then he winked and tugged a towel off the rail and wrapped it around his waist.

I started brushing my teeth at the same time as Jack, although he kept glancing my way and I caught his smile.

“What?” I said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

“You were a ballsy bastard last night.”

I blushed, looked at the sink for salvation, then spat and rinsed. Jack followed, giving a final wipe to his mouth.

“Sorry,” I said, conscious of just how I’d spoken to him.

“Don’t be. It’s good to hear what you like, how you like it, that you’re ballsy enough to voice it. Turns me on like fuck.”

I gave him a half smile. Good to know I was still ballsy in his eyes. I had a lot to live up to lying next to Gray.

“You were pretty out of it at times,” I said, and Jack gave this uh-huh, sound. “Worried me a touch.” Jack looked at me.

“Worried? Why?”

I shrugged. “Just your blackouts and things.”

Jack stopped what he was doing for a moment. When he looked at me, he looked a little sad. “I trust Gray,” he smiled as he brushed the back of his hand against my cheek, “and you. It was a good environment last night, everything just right: people, lovers, and a bastard thrown in to lead the mix too.”

I laughed as Jack folded the towel up so carefully before putting it back.

“Jack, didn’t Gray ask you to keep the collar on?”

“Hmm?” He glanced back.

I pointed to his throat. “Last night. I remember—”

“Jan, it’s okay. Jack’s late for work.”

I frowned, trying to see around Jack, back into Gray.

“Shit.” Jack caught his arm on the door handle and stood there rubbing at it. “Collar always comes off after a scene,” he mumbled before heading back into the bedroom and starting to sort out his work clothes. Scratching at my head, I followed soon after, going over to the wardrobe and pulling out my jeans and shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

I glanced at Jack as I fastened my jeans. “Driving you to work. You didn’t get much sleep and you were pretty out of it by the time we finished.”

Jack straightened, looking more than a little stiff even after Gray’s aftercare. “That’s...” He frowned, but it came with a soft smile. “Jan, you hardly got any sleep too, you soft sod.”

“I know,” I said, tugging my T-shirt over my head. “But it wasn’t my ass that got double ended last night.”

Jack chuckled. “Good point—good times—but good point.”

We made it downstairs and Jack went over to the door and started thumbing through his mail. “Ah.” He pulled out a brown package and rattled it against his ear.

“Is that even your mail?” I said as I went over and grabbed my coat. Gray had moaned the past few mornings how his mail had been tampered with, and we kind of figured who was responsible. Jack stood there confirming it all as he rattled the package close to his ear again and grinned. “Yours.”

“From yesterday?” I pulled it from him with a scowl and opened the brown package. “Looks like Gray’s getting in the Christmas spirit.” Two books were inside and I flicked through the first and nodded, already lost. I recognised Gray’s handwriting attached to the note inside.

Try something a little more hardcore than abstract, Abstract.

I chuckled, only to have Jack frown. I showed him the note, then held up the books. If he could have vampire-hissed, he would have. “Since when did he start buying you stuff?”

“We were out yesterday discussing doing an art collection here, which I’m looking into this afternoon, and I’d seen this one.” I waggled
Imitations of Original Drawings
by Hans Holbien, also wanting to run upstairs with it and lock it in a safe somewhere. “It’s a collectable.”

“Cars are collectable,” said Jack. “That,” he even pointed, “is a book.”

“About fifteen grand’s worth of book.”

Jack gave a whistle. “And that one?” he asked, looking like he wanted to prod it from fifty paces to see if it bit him.

I looked at the collection of abstract art. “‘A piss take’, as you’d put it,” I grumbled and Jack laughed.

“Fucking peachy. He’s good at those too,” he said.

“What the hell do I get him in return, though, Jack?” I put the books very carefully onto the table and sighed. “I mean, with Christmas a few weeks away—”

“Well, you could promise to see if Santa’s sacs really are never-ending when it comes to delivering the goods.”

I leaned in close. “You’re on about Santa’s nuts, aren’t you? That’s....” I weighed the options up here. “Gray, wearing nothing but a Santa’s hat, a black one, with
BDSM badass
printed on it? You holding a
Santa, please stop here
sign next to your ass, all wide-eyed, expectant, and on your knees?”

Jack choked a laugh. “That’s one for the MC suggestion scene box. You’ve just perverted everything pure and innocent about Christmas.”

“Me? You were the one on about Santa’s sacs.”

“You up for it?”

“Fuck yes,” I breathed.

Jack grinned at me as we reached my Mercedes, then scowled as his phone went off. He fumbled for it as I pulled out my keys and unlocked the Merc.

“Hey, Dad.” Jack winked at me. “What’s up?”

I smiled at the mention of Gregory, especially with all the politeness that Jack fell into around him. We hadn’t met yet, but we’d spoken on the phone a few times. Things took time with Jack, I was slowly getting used to that, but he was more than worth the wait.

“Ah, sorry,” he was saying and my ears pricked up as he winced. “Mom? Complicate the issue by using Dad’s phone, why don’t you,” he said, rolling his eyes at me before we got in. His mother I hadn’t spoken to, not yet. She’d been away for a few months after the divorce.

“Sure,” said Jack, getting in the Merc as I unlocked it. “I’ll make some room in the books for today; ci sentiamo.”

I waited before he slipped his phone into his long jacket before saying, “Something you want to tell me?”

Jack started fiddling with the radio. “My old lady’s garage is overbooked. She wants to know if she can bring a client over today to ease her work load.” Jack relaxed with a wince, his movements still stiff and awkward. “Always throws me when she uses my old man’s phone like that.”

“Jack, you’ve just gone a little Italian.”

He looked over, frowned.

“Something you
need
to tell me?”

He blushed, so badly it forced him to look away. “I’m mostly English, Jan. Bacon butties n all. My mother, she’s something else, coming from sunny
not-fucking-freeze-your-knackers-off
Cinque Terre. She met my old man when she ran into the back of his Land Rover with her Jag. He was on a business trip there. Sorry. Details...” He frowned. “I get there eventually, y’know; ci sentiamo just means ‘talk to you later’.”

Forget that. I was trying to stop the whole
come to Daddy, baby
, reaction hearing him speak just one word. “You and Gray, I swear, you need—”

“Fucking? Because you know I can speak a little Italian, mostly swearing, but I can do this deep, sexy Banderas voice—”

“He’s Spanish.”

“I can do this deep, sexy De Niro voice.”

“American.”

“Seriously? With the whole De Niro thing? ’Cause it sounds like it’s got an Italian suffix twang to me.”

By the time I pulled up to Jack’s garage, I was still trying to stop the tears, the chuckling was that bad. Jack. He really was bloody hopeless with nationalities.

“Jack.”

That came from Sue and I tugged my head out from under the car. A few hours after Jan had dropped me off I was elbow deep in an oil filter, although the swearing flying through the air suggested it felt more like I’d been at it for five hours. Sue was grinning over from reception. “Your mother’s here. I’ve taken her up to your office.”

Easing up, I winced at the aches, knowing I really should have booked today off. My old lady adding to an already packed workload wasn’t gonna help either. If she was shifting work over, you could guarantee it was going to be a big job. Muscles feeling the strain a little more, I washed up before heading on up to the office.

“Hey, Mom,” I mumbled as the door pushed open.

She glanced over from by the main desk and it wasn’t hard to see why my old man had fallen for her. She was business through and through, with her tailored suit—always trousers and matching jacket—thick, long black hair that was tied back to reveal the full blackness of her eyes. Even at sixty, she was something to look at: slim, tall, with time just seeming to stand back and appreciate her beauty as she matured next to it. “This job you’re on about? What are we doing and how long are you giving us?”

There was barely any other reaction from her, even after I’d pulled her into a brief hug. She offered me a weak smile, nothing more.

“Where’s the owner?” I tried to peer down to the car park. “He meeting you here? Can I get you a coffee or something?” I really needed to get on with work and get back to Gray’s, see if we could all lick our exhaustion together.

My old lady glanced around. “No. No, grazie.” She clutched her black business carry case, looking from me, to the door, to the door, back to me.