Don't... 04 Backlash (18 page)

And when he
did, Gray dug his fingers deeper into toned skin as Jack fucked
slowly into Jan, then on his draw back, took Gray just as slowly,
just as breathtakingly.

“Oh yes,”
mumbled Jan, his hands on Jack’s ass encouraging a little deeper
play. Jack rolled with the need, now fucking a little faster,
taking a little more of Gray each time.

Fuck.
Gray
was back down on Jack, this time adding a little dip of his own
hips every time Jack pushed back. He let his hand trace the back of
Jack’s neck. So easy... so easy just to hold Jack down, fuck in
hard as his body cried out the need for that, take Jan through
Jack, take them both. But this had to be under their steam, at
their pace.

Only, as Gray
stroked the back of Jack’s neck, sometimes gripping a little
harder, Jack was getting rougher each time, and, damn his soul,
Gray matched it. Fucking in a little harder and biting deep into
Jack’s shoulder, Gray fueled the heat as he met Jack’s hard push
back.

Jack panted,
sweat covering shoulders and adding a bitter salt taste to Gray’s
bite. Gray loved it, but his bruising bite this time was to calm
himself down. He’d lost track of both of them for a second. Jack
was fucking hard into Jan, crying out for Gray to return the hard
play, and Jan...

Gray instantly
eased back.

Jan had drawn
his knees up, almost trying to close them, and instead of writhing,
he seemed to be struggling, looking more and more uncomfortable
with each wince Jack’s hard fuck brought between his legs.

“Stop,”
breathed Jan, gritting his teeth. “Please.”

“Baby...” Jack
sounded so close, breathless. “Just a little... a little...
Christ... baby. Please.”

Now kneeling
back, Gray put a hand on Jack’s hip, a quiet request to still Jack
and recover his touch without calling a direct—

“
Time
out,” snarled Jan, pushing violently at Jack’s shoulders. “Fucking
time out, Jack. I asked you to stop. Fucking
stop
.”

Jack instantly
pulled back as Jan curled to his side, gripping hard into the
pillow. Jack stilled, body completely tensing. Then giving a look
at Gray, a longer look down at Jan, he scrambled off the bed for
the bedroom door. It slammed behind him, causing Jan to jolt on the
bed. Gray eased down for the briefest seconds, kissing at Jan’s
shoulder.

“You okay?” he
said quickly. But he could see that Jan wasn’t, his twist of head
into the pillow calling it out. The threats of today seemed to have
crashed into Jan, throwing him back into a brutality between the
sheets that few could find their way back from, and Gray briefly
closed his eyes, resting his head against Jan’s. “Easy,” he
whispered. “It’s okay.”

Giving a look
at the bedroom door, Gray then got off the bed and caught up with
Jack.

“Where the fuck
are you going,” he said pulling him to a stop outside the bedroom.
“What—”

“I got it,”
snarled Jack, “I heard.” And he went to head off to the bathroom,
no doubt to hide in a shower, but Gray pushed him back toward the
main bedroom.

“Go and fucking
talk to him. Get back in there.”

“I...” Jack
groaned, slumping back against the wall and running a hand through
his hair. “Gray... everything just felt so fucking good. Wanted...”
He shrugged and tears were barely held back, “just wanted to feel
the good for a little longer, escape all that fucking shit and just
hold onto us like we used to. I... I never meant to fucking hurt
him.”

Gray went in
and cupped the back of Jack’s neck. “Go hold him, Jack,” he said
quietly, resting his head against Jack’s. “You’re telling the wrong
person.”

Jack’s hand
found Gray’s neck, mimicking Gray’s touch on him, and such a long
sigh was given, followed by the deepest kiss. Gray felt dampness
against his cheek off Jack, and frowned.

“Please...”
Jack came in a little closer. “Miss being us so fucking much, old
mukka. It’s killing me.” Jack’s free hand strayed to Gray’s cock,
played. “This...” Gray resisted every urge to look down and see
Jack ease a stroke along his cock. “Felt you for the first time...
your first time with nothing between us and.... You need this too.”
Kisses came at Gray’s neck, heated. Full of need.

Saying nothing,
Gray took hold of Jack’s hand and eased it away from him. The
moment he did, Jack pulled back, his brow furrowing a touch.

“No,” Gray
said, denying any heat.

After a moment,
Jack dropped his head a touch and nodded.

“It’s not even
close to other priorities right now,” said Gray.

Jack looked
towards the bedroom door and a lot of hurt filtered through into
his look. He gave a nod at Gray, then headed back in to Jan. Gray
waited long enough to hear the bed take Jack’s weight, then dropped
his head against the hall wall, shifting his stance and needing the
cold to lay waste to thought as he ran his hand down the cool of
the plaster.

In the heat,
he’d nearly missed Jan’s struggles too.

Shivering for a
moment, he gave a brief close of eyes, then tidied himself up and
went back into the bedroom.

Jan was still
curled to his side, but Jack had made a point of climbing in and
facing him. Quiet whispers came over as Jan shivered slightly under
Jack’s touch, and soft sobs punctuated Jack’s calm and tender
hushes. Gray went over and eased in behind Jan. Jack watched him
over Jan’s shoulder, and Gray made a point of brushing a hand at
Jack’s jaw before reaching a hold around Jan and pulling him
close.

“Easy,
abstract,” said Gray, nuzzling at Jan’s shoulder, “it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Jan
murmured eventually in between their coaxing. “Felt so good for
awhile, but....”

He didn’t
finish it and Jack came in, kissing at Jan’s shoulder, then cheek.
“What the fuck you apologising for, soft lad? You asked for gentle;
I got rough. I should have stopped. Simple as, especially after
telling you about today’s shit.”

“Not that,
Jack....” A quiet sob racked Jan. “Just couldn’t breathe back there
for a moment. Couldn’t fucking breathe.”

Jack closed his
eyes and rested his head down on Jan’s. Jan seemed to instantly
shift, snaking a hold around him and pulling him in close.

“Sometimes just
gets so hard to breathe, Jack.”

“Yeah,” mumbled
Jack as Gray stroked at Jan’s side. “I know it does, baby. Sorry...
so sorry. Should have listened, should have backed off.”

Among the
sexual frustration, anger unsettled Jack’s eyes, all directed
internally and enough to have Gray reach over to try and calm and
ease it. For a moment Jack pulled away, then settled, more so in
body, although his eyes still carried that thin strain of something
else. It cried out how this shit with Logan couldn’t have come at a
worse time. How life had been tough, with screw-ups expected, but
they’d started to claw their way out of the shadows, to finally
breathe. Only now they were back to watching doors, to waiting to
see if they’d ease open and in would come Henry, bringing a feeding
tube, only to be followed by his cock forced down Jan’s throat
afterwards. And through it, Jack held onto Jan a little tighter,
his grip whitening his knuckles.

Logan Keal
swore under his breath. Packing up the last few boxes had taken
longer than he’d realised. He should have been over at Flint
nightclub tonight, sorting through the staff absences they’d piled
up lately. Instead he’d received a call from the estate agent
saying that someone was interested in viewing his father’s detached
home, and could someone be there to meet them in the morning.
Meeting them wasn’t the problem, but sorting through the last
personal belongings of his father was. His stepmother had already
been through the expensive clothes and pawned the white-gold
collection of watches and cufflinks that his father had collected
over the years. All it left was the drabs, like toothbrush, hair
gel, the personal basics and leftovers from the kitchen that
wouldn’t fetch a bag of crisps from behind a bar. Seemed the whore
had taken everything that his father’s Will had denied her.

Finished with
wrapping the brown tape around the cardboard box, Logan frowned as
he worked in the bathroom, maybe understanding how her bitterness
had grown with the length of her sleeves, moving from showing off
kissable shoulders, to full-length shirts that had her turning her
face from his father every time his father’s mood darkened.

He should have
asked, but there were always things to do... people to try and
fuck.

Burying the
darker memories, Logan slipped the tape gun in his back pocket and
took hold of the last box. The en suite had that empty echo feel,
and he backed out, needing to shut the door on the darkness he left
in there.

He made it
downstairs, to the white show-home hues of the hall. The lounge was
off to his right, the kitchen beyond that, but Logan avoided the
closed door at all costs. He’d refused to cross the boundary
between the living and the dead, wondering if a fresh coat of paint
had erased the bloodied stains that had splattered the carpet. The
criminal investigations department had long since removed their
touch, taking away his father’s body. The dining room chair had
been pulled into the middle of the lounge, something that would had
driven his father into one of those dark moods and his stepmother
scurrying into the shadows. The chair itself had been taken away
for forensic investigation, but the more Logan thought about it,
the more he wondered if it hadn’t just been removed and taken to
some rubbish tip to be burned. MI5 knew something about his
father’s death; he’d been told that, but even CID seemed to drag
their heels over details and the murder investigation, putting it
down to a professional hit with no leads. Ranks were being closed;
from the top office at MI5 down to CID and the Metropolitan Police,
details were sidestepped, discussion and hearings delayed.

Through it all,
not even his father’s dark mood could warrant that kind of killing:
trousers down around his ankles, dick exposed, hands bound behind
his back with a rope from balls to wrists to suggest any sudden
movement would bring its own torture between his legs. Then the
bullet in his forehead as though he had been white trash for the
cleansing.

Logan glanced
at the three boxes at his feet, added a fourth, then looked around
the empty reception hall.

Everyone had
their secrets; Logan hadn’t told his father about his interest in
men as much as women. His dad wouldn’t have minded, he was sure of
that; he hadn’t minded when Logan had come home with broken
knuckles from hitting a man at one of his nightclubs, not when he’d
told his dad the man had brought a girl looking like she’d fit
better into a school uniform than that slinky dress she’d had on.
Logan had gotten the man sent down and the girl into Social
Services and back to her parents. He couldn’t stand men who fucked
kids, or women who fucked kids for that matter. And now he needed
help, there was no one around. Why was he the only one questioning
all this?

The hum off the
mobile in his jean pocket forced him to shuffle and shift around
the boxes as he pulled it free.

Company’s here.

Ah. So he
wasn’t exactly the only one left asking questions. The phone itself
was new, given to him a month ago via delivery to his door. He
questioned that these messages came with a number withheld, but the
person behind the calls knew a lot of details, most now deleted as
requested.

Another text
came through.

Vital
that you keep him there. Do not let him leave. I’ll be there
soon.

Kes.

Logan just
about had enough time to glance back over his shoulder before the
doorbell rang.

For the first
time in a long while, a little fear crept in. He’d foregone
bringing anyone, knowing this would only take an hour or so.
Girlfriends were a pain in the ass beyond the bedsheets, and
boyfriends... he just didn’t have the time for anything longer than
a casual fuck. It left him pretty isolated, and in the modern-day
haunted home, he suddenly felt damn stupid, knowing no killer had
been caught.

But if it was a
professional hit, then surely the killer would be smart enough to
stay away from the murder scene? He wouldn’t ring the bell?

“Who’s there?”
he mumbled eventually. When nothing came but another ring on the
bell, Logan stepped over one of the boxes and reached for the front
door. He hadn’t grown up here, but it had been part of his life
through school, college, then a weekend stay away from University.
It was his home for the next few hours now that his father had
died.

Still, the
handle felt sweaty in his palm as the bell rang for a third time.
The caller knew how to annoy. “Fine, fine,” he said to himself, and
he calmed his nerves a little by sweeping his hair from his eyes.
Nobody decent called at this hour, not unless it was with bad news,
so he slipped the chain on first to give him some room to see who
stood on the lit porch.

“Ughh.” It was
all he managed as he pushed the door shut to get the chain off in
the next moment. He knew who stood outside in the rain.

“Harrison?”

Jack stood
shivering against the cold, and Logan automatically shifted his
gaze past Jack, checking for more... company.

Company’s here. Do not let him leave....

Logan looked
sharply back at Jack, who stood looking just as confused as he
glanced in, then around the hall.

“Keal’s place?”
Jack tilted his head slightly to the side and the long strands of
drenched black hair shifted away from his eyes, leaving water
running down his neck. He wore no coat, just the blue coveralls
Logan had seen him wearing earlier, and the rain had made sure they
hugged his body to dick-raising heat.