Falling Bundle (8 page)

“That’s good. Unless you say that word, I’m not going to stop.” Max sat back on the edge of the bed and yanked Arjen down over his lap.

Arjen yelped. He struggled half-heartedly, face down over Max’s lap with his hands cuffed. “What are you—”

Max slapped his ass. The crack rang out across the room. The blow stung his hand; Arjen yelped louder, pulling against Max’s grip. Max delivered another slap, then another, heating up the delightful firm curve of his ass. Arjen squirmed in his lap, protesting even as he got harder, trying to rub himself against Max’s thigh. “You can’t—”

“Safeword or put up with it.” Max slapped him again. Arjen gasped. He was enjoying being spanked just as much as Max had hoped, squirming and eager, and when Max teased his pucker for a moment between blows, Arjen squeaked. He was so hot and the friction of them rubbing together was unbearable. Max kept up the spanking as he slid his free hand up between Arjen’s legs, finding his pucker again with one slick finger.

“Max!” Arjen arched against his grip.

“Yes?”

“I—ah!” Arjen’s voice wavered as Max slipped that finger into him. Another slap to his ass, and Arjen clenched deliciously around his finger. “That hurts,” Arjen complained without much force.

Max squeezed his hot, sore ass. “Too much?” He stroked the sweet spot inside him.

“Gah!” Arjen was getting incoherent, which was exactly how Max liked him. He rubbed that little spot until Arjen could barely get out a word, much less a sentence.

Then he showed Arjen what else he’d brought—a nice thick dildo just like he’d promised. “I’m going to fuck you with this. Get it up inside you.”

“Won’t fit,” Arjen managed, his voice hoarse.

“It will fit. You just need to relax.” Max pressed the dildo into him.

Arjen’s breath caught and he spread his legs wider as he offered his body willingly. It must be testing him to the limit, because he bit his lip and took deep breaths as it slid inside him. “Big,” he said breathlessly.

“You can take it,” Max soothed him, running a hand up and down his thigh. He kept up the steady pressure.

Finally the dildo sank home and Arjen moaned aloud. He was panting, clenching hard around the invasion. “That’s… I…”

“Good?” Max dragged it nearly all the way out, then pushed it home.

“Ah!” Arjen jumped against him.

This was too easy. Max fucked him into incoherence with the dildo, loving the urgency of his need, his pleas to finish it. Only when Max’s own need become unbearable did he finally take mercy on Arjen; Arjen cried out as he came, his whole body tightening, stuffed full of the dildo.

Max threw him down on the soft bed and drove straight into him. Arjen could not be more ready for him; Max slid home easily into the gripping heat of his body. Arjen’s breath was coming in gasps, he was worn out from being so thoroughly fucked. Max pounded him hard until he reached his own fierce climax.

Afterward he took the handcuffs off. Arjen stretched out in the warm covers with a decadent groan of utter satisfaction that made Max want to fuck him all over again. Thankfully for his heart rate, Max was too worn out right now. “You liked that?” Max checked with him.

“Mmm.” Arjen’s eyes slid closed, the lashes casting a curved shadow on his cheekbones, and he lapsed into silence.

It was such a warm moment that Max dared to sneak a little closer. He ventured one of those questions that Arjen only answered in the immediate aftermath of sex. “What part of your family is Dutch? You don’t have an accent.”

“My mother’s family is from Leiden. Arjen is a family name.” Arjen sounded rough and scratchy with exhaustion.

“Speak Dutch for me.”

Arjen opened his eyes and gave him a sidelong look; Max was obviously pushing the boundary of what he would permit. Then he said, “
Ik lief je
.”

That was sexy. “What does it mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Arjen looked away.

“I like it.
Ik lief je.
” Max tried to mimic the sound.

Arjen tried to smile, but it came out twisted. “You’re butchering it.”

“Languages were never my strong point.” Max slid lazily down Arjen’s body, trailing kisses down the hot skin, lingering at the sensitive navel. Arjen tried to grab his hair, but Max slapped his hand away. “No touching.”

Arjen could be very obedient when he wanted Max to get him off. He fisted his hands in the bedcovers.

Arjen twitched with suppressed impatience as Max inched down, spreading his legs only to nip the hot inside of his thigh. Arjen squeaked and his grip tightened on the covers. “Good,” Max murmured, and nuzzled into the heat of his cock at the same time as he pressed a slick finger into his ass.

He loved the way Arjen clenched with a gasp every time Max first did that. The reflexive tightening of his body was delicious. Arjen was being very patient for him, so Max rewarded him by taking him all the way into his mouth, pressing his finger deeper. Arjen arched up into his mouth with a moan. He was fucking hot like this, barely able to hold back. Max rubbed that sweet spot inside him.

“Max!” It was a yelp.

“Mm-hmm,” Max murmured around his mouthful. He could probably take Arjen now without any more preparation, but it was fun to play with him. He pushed a second finger in.

“Ah!” Arjen jumped under him; Max draped a heavy arm over his stomach to hold him down. “Max! Please just fuck me.”

If he was still coherent enough to talk, Max wasn’t finished with him. The hot, slick grip of his body around Max’s fingers was making Max hard to the point of pain, but he settled in to play with him some more, driving his fingers in and out. Arjen tightened helplessly around him; he must be getting very close to the edge. “Ah—I—” Max slipped him a third finger and his voice went up an octave, his whole body jolting against Max’s restraining arm.

All right, that was enough. Max pulled his fingers out and dragged Arjen across the covers toward him so he could press the tip of his cock against him. “Ready now?” Max teased him.

“I—nnn!” It melted into a groan as Max pushed home.

Christ, it felt good. Arjen was so hot underneath him, clenching so sweetly. Arjen’s arms came up around Max’s neck and Arjen clung to him, his grip tightening with each thrust. Max dipped his head to steal a kiss from him, then another, buried so deep inside him he could have sworn he felt the pulse of Arjen’s heartbeat.

He wanted to drag this out forever. Just stay here with Arjen wrapped around him. But his tension was building, his balls tightening, and all he could do was muffle his groan in Arjen’s throat as he came.

In the shuddering aftermath he wrapped his hand around Arjen’s cock and Arjen came for him easily within a few strokes. It was always magic to feel Arjen climax around him, tightening up and arching into him, biting his lip to stifle a cry. Then they just lay twined together during the last pulses of pleasure.

Mmm. Arjen felt nice under him. Maybe Max could stay draped over him a little longer.

Arjen pushed at him. Max only pulled him closer; he craved his nice warm Arjen snuggled into his arms. “Stay.” If he was allowed to fuck Arjen, he should be allowed to cuddle him. Already he felt sleep setting in. It would be so simple to drift off together, safe and entwined.

“Red.”

“What?” Max’s eyes snapped open.

“Red.” Arjen met his gaze.

“I just want to hold you! Jesus!”

Arjen said in an extremely cold voice, “Is that a safeword or not?”

Max felt like he was breaking into pieces. Something had splintered inside him and the sharp edges kept stabbing him. Max drew out reluctantly and shifted over to give Arjen room.

Silence followed while they both caught their breath. Max was in absolute dismay. He wanted so badly to tell Arjen everything he was thinking, but the words piled up to choke him. “Arjen—”

Arjen turned away without a word.

“You could stay at my place tonight. If you wanted.” Max heard his own voice cracking.

Arjen got up, cleaned up and started to dress. In silence.

Max stared up at the ceiling. His throat tightened and he swallowed.

He got dressed too. Evening light filled the gap between them. The silence was heavy with words unspoken, with the memory of what Max had done.

He tried again. “Arjen…”

“We’re done here.” Arjen buttoned his shirt, his face closed.

Arjen had never come to his house since Max had kicked him out. Not once. And Max had never been allowed to spend the night with him.

As Max left, feeling like he was cracking apart, he finally understood what should have been obvious to him for weeks.

He was in love with Arjen.

And he had ruined everything.

A bottle of Irish whiskey stood on the table. The liquid inside burned a deep gold in the light of the setting sun. It threw a shadow like firelight across the dented table, the empty glass, the pile of unopened bills.

Max stared at the bottle, wondering if one more drink would drown out what he was thinking. He could not see any other way to escape the revelation burned into him in letters of fire.

He was in love with Arjen. The man he had pursued, persuaded and finally coaxed into bed, only to kick him out afterward like last night’s trash. The man who had never trusted him again.

Christ. He needed another drink.

Max had never been in love before, and it was terrifying. He had arranged his life to keep everybody at arm’s length. He had drinking buddies, but no friends. He picked up a different person every night. He never called his so-called family. His flat was empty of mementoes, of warmth; the ticking of the clock echoed in the deep silence. Now all he could think about was his craving for Arjen. And every day without Arjen was a day wasted. Every hour spent in silence, every night in a lonely bed.

He pulled out his phone and stared at it. His thumb found the call button, but he knew better than to hit it. Because although they were still having sex, Arjen would never allow him to come over just to spend time with him. That was forbidden.

As much as he liked fucking Arjen, as badly as he needed it, it left an ache inside him that nothing could fill. It was the silence afterward. The distance between them. The words left unspoken.

Max poured himself that drink and slammed it. It didn’t help. He still knew with a leaden certainty that Arjen would never want him. Why would he? Arjen lived in a beautiful house that he shared with a friend who adored him, his family all thought he was amazing, they wanted him to come home all the time so they could make a fuss of him. And every time Max was left on the outside.

It made Max irrationally jealous. He seethed when he arrived at Arjen’s house one storm-lashed evening to find Arjen on the sofa with his arm casually around his housemate Cate’s shoulders. Their dark heads were bent together as they talked, Cate leaning easily into the taller Arjen. Their shared smile cut Max deeply. It wasn’t fair that Arjen showed his friends affection but not Max. “Why don’t you ever hug me?” Max asked, suddenly loud.

Cate eyed him without expression. She was wearing a white dress and subtle makeup that brought out her cheekbones. He knew how little sympathy she had for him; she’d once confronted him in the coffee shop where he worked to tell him to stay away from Arjen. She thought Arjen was too good for him. She was probably right.

Arjen gave him a cold look, and took his arm back from around Cate’s shoulders. “If you want a hug, try a stuffed bear.”

Max set his jaw. His face burned. Maybe it had been a stupid question; maybe nobody would ever want to hug Max. He could not remember if Arjen had ever been that relaxed with him.

He bided his time until he could corner Arjen in the kitchen, flattening him against the tall metal fridge, a hand on either side of his head. Arjen drew in a quick breath, his chin lifting so he could meet his eyes. Max had always revelled in their height difference—he liked looming over him.

“We should spend more time together.” Max could not afford to sound tentative. It had to be an order with Arjen.

“I don’t think so.” Arjen pushed at his chest, trying to get him to move.

Max held firm. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal. You like me, I like you. Let’s catch a movie some time.”

“You like fucking me. That’s not the same.”

That pissed him off. Arjen was right, Max did like fucking him; he had never known pleasure as intense as when he was inside Arjen, and Arjen always reacted so well to him, clutching at him, pleading for more. But he could not be satisfied any longer with that alone.

He caught Arjen’s mouth in a rough kiss. Arjen yielded to him for a sweet moment, dragging him down for a deeper kiss. Max got him pressed up against the fridge, hot and taut, just how Max liked him. He dipped a hand to squeeze Arjen boldly through the front of his trousers. Arjen’s gasp gave him a deep satisfaction.

Max nuzzled into the tempting line of his throat. “What are you afraid of? That if you go out with me you’ll like it?”

“I’m not afr—”

Max cut him off by pushing a hand into Arjen’s trousers. Arjen groaned as Max’s fingers closed around his length. “Hush,” Max whispered in his ear, enjoying the heat of him, the rigid hardness. He started to stroke slowly. “Cate might hear.” Judging by the murmur and crackle in the background, she was watching the ten o’clock news in the living room.

Arjen made a stifled sound and shifted against him. Max could feel the rapid beat of his heart through the thin cotton of his shirt. Max squeezed harder. Arjen tipped his head back against the metal of the fridge, his eyes fluttering shut. “We shouldn’t…”

Max kissed him again. Arjen melted into him, his fingers curling into Max’s t-shirt. He was so sweet like this, so yielding. Perfect.

When Max judged he wouldn’t resist, he turned him and bent him over the kitchen counter. For all his protests, Arjen was starting to shiver with anticipation; he was only too eager for this. Max worked his way into him slowly, relentlessly, until he was sheathed tight inside him.

It gave him a fierce thrill to fuck Arjen in the kitchen where Cate might hear. Let her know that Arjen craved him more than anything. He swept a clatter of striped coffee mugs impatiently into the sink and started to pound Arjen harder from behind, his hand clamped over Arjen’s mouth to keep him silent. Arjen’s stifled whimpers only made his hunger burn hotter. He had Arjen exactly where he liked him, spread out for him, at his mercy. Max growled low in his throat as he drove home hard.

Arjen came in silence, only the powerful contraction of his body betraying the intensity of his pleasure. There was just no way Max was going to resist being squeezed that tight. He spilled himself deep in Arjen’s body with a rush of triumph.

Afterward, with both of them breathless and doing up buttons, Max sprang his ambush on Arjen. “Let me take you out to dinner.” Max had it all figured out. He’d take him to a fancy restaurant, the type with the crystal glasses and the silverware, where he’d launch into a big speech. Arjen would take his hand and say,
Max, I’ve been waiting for the right time to say this, but I’m in love with you too…

“Thanks,” the real Arjen said, his voice cool. “But no thanks.”

Max’s fantasy popped like a bubble. “What? You don’t want to go out to dinner?” It always worked in the movies. The candlelight, the silver cutlery, the folded napkins, it was magic.

“Not with you.” Arjen tried to smile, though it came out twisted. “Sorry, Max. I’m just not interested in a pretend date.”

That stung. “Why would it have to be pretend?”

Arjen gave him a look and finished his last button. In silence.

Max should have shut his mouth then but his useless hurt and anger surged out of him. “You should introduce me to your family.” It came out harsh.

“What?” Arjen took a startled step back, and banged into the fridge door.

“Your family. I want to meet them.”

Arjen’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think so, Max.”

“Arjen!” Max was nearly in tears of frustration.

Arjen threw up his hands. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand you. You told me you have no feelings for me whatsoever—you made that absolutely clear. So that’s the way it is. Just sex, like you wanted. Go home. I’m going to bed.” He slipped under Max’s arm, twisting easily away from Max’s half-hearted attempt to grab him, and went upstairs. Max was left standing in the kitchen, his heart thumping against his ribs, empty-handed and speechless.

He could not think of a single way to deal with his intense frustration other than to reach for the nearest bottle. He took it moodily into the living room along with a glass. Cate was still there curled up in an armchair with her wine. She folded her legs beneath her and smoothed down her dress with the air of one checking her armour. She clearly had no intention of leaving her own living room just because Max was here.

Max slumped in a leather chair in front of a flat-screen television, poured himself a fifth of whiskey and knocked it back. The fire that burned his throat at least momentarily distracted him. The second time he drank more slowly.

The silence pressed down until it became unbearable. He burst out, “Why doesn’t Arjen like me?”

Cate sighed. She cradled her wine in both hands, the colour a rich red against the white wool of her dress. “He likes you a lot, Max. He always has done.”

“He doesn’t. He hates me. He won’t even let me hold his hand.”

“You hurt him. He doesn’t want to be hurt again.”

“I wouldn’t do that again!” Max put his bottle down on the table with rather too much force. Luckily the table survived. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff back when we first met. I know I upset him. I could make it all better if he’d just give me the chance.”

Cate turned her glass in her fingers, contemplating the last of the wine in the bottom, perhaps thinking over her next move. Then she lifted her eyes and fixed him with a hard stare. “I don’t like you, Max. I never have. You’ve been a bastard to Arjen and I won’t forget that. But he is absolutely crazy about you, so if and only if you can treat him better, I’ll help you.”

It did not feel good to be told how badly he’d messed up, but Max dragged out the words. “I can do better. I swear.”

“Good. You can start by apologising to him. Properly. Arjen likes you too much and he’s too upset to be placated with dinner. You need to offer him something that’s actually meaningful. Like a heartfelt apology.”

“I can—I can do that.” Yes. That would be good. Then Arjen would let him stay the night, wrapped around him safe and warm, and Max could finally be at peace.

He took a last gulp of whiskey for Dutch courage and strode resolutely upstairs. He took the stairs three at a time and burst into Arjen’s room without knocking. “I need to tell you something.”

Arjen paused, frowning. He was at his laptop getting some last work in; the angle lamp painted his face in shades of gold. Rain pattered against the window.

Max reached over him to snap the laptop shut; he wanted Arjen’s full attention. “Arjen, I really—I messed up before. I didn’t mean that stuff I said when we first met. I really like you. We should date. You know, with flowers and dinner and whatever. Dates.”

Arjen stared at him for a long moment while his face lost colour. Then he stood up. “That is it,” he said, in a toneless voice. “That is the last time you will ever laugh at me.”

“What?” Max stumbled when he tried to move closer, dizzy from the alcohol, unbalanced by a sharp stab of longing. “I’m not laughing at—”

“You knew from the beginning that I had real feelings for you.” Arjen laid it out coldly like the opening statement in a trial. “You used that against me. You tricked me into trusting you and humiliated me the next morning. You think you can do whatever you want to me, treat me however you like. You can taunt me about wanting to date when you know that I would have wanted that. That I still want it. Desperately.” Arjen’s voice cracked on the last word.

Max tried to stammer an explanation, but his stupid tongue would not co-operate. He had thought for weeks that Arjen had nothing but contempt for him; it had never occurred to him that Arjen could be hiding this much pent-up feeling. “I didn’t—”

“Save it.” Arjen’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I get it. I’m just a cheap fuck you’re stringing along until you get bored of me. Well, I’m done. You may not be capable of a real relationship, but I have actual feelings like a grownup. And being treated like this is unacceptable. You need to leave.”

“Don’t,” Max said, his throat tight, dying to just take Arjen in his arms, “please don’t, I—”

Arjen faced him with his chin up, his expression set. “I don’t need this, Max. Nothing is worth this. Get out. I don’t want to see you again.”

“Arjen—”

“Get out of my house.” Arjen’s voice went deadly low.

And still protesting, Max was thrown out of Arjen’s house into the rain.

The storm still raged outside. Rain slashed down out of a night filled with thunder, the sky black and glowering, trees leaning under the wind. When Max stumbled out onto the drive of the big house he ended up drenched in seconds; the rain soaked his coat, making it cling heavily to him, plastered his hair flat to his skull and worked its icy fingers under his collar. He began shivering immediately.

He could not think of anywhere to go. Anything to do. There was nothing but silence waiting for him in his flat; if he could not be with Arjen, he might as well be nowhere. The stinging rain numbed him. He felt hollow.

He sat on the doorstep for a long time as the rain hammered his bent head.

Cate had warned him that he needed to offer more. He had told Arjen he liked him, he had suggested that they date. Cate had clearly meant more than that. Like everything.

For the first time Max confronted the necessity of telling Arjen the absolute truth. Confessing every burden that weighed him down. He was so far gone into despair by now that the thought of finally saying it gave it some relief; at least he would have gotten out the words that strangled him. Let it be done at last. Then if Arjen turned him away he would know it was over for good.