Violated (11 page)

Russ stared at her for a long time, before finally giving in and asking, “The most
recent
report?”

“He and his boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—have called the cops or had the cops called on them five times in the past two years,” Chavez said gleefully. “It was like a thing with them. Fighting in the street, fighting in the hall, fighting in the parking lot, you name it. No violence. Just a lot of screaming back and forth. Oh, and more than one count of public indecency.”

Russ wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. It was a little weird, but was it a reason to give Ian a wide berth? He had no idea. Maybe he and Jay were just a bad combination.

He was still trying to make sense out of it after he’d returned to the station when Ian called his cell. He answered and Ian said, “Hey, sexy.”

That was nice to hear, at least. “Hey.”

“I’m really horny right now.”

Startled, Russ felt himself flush. He glanced around to see if anybody was near his desk, not that they could hear what Ian was saying. “I’m at work,” he said, praying Ian wouldn’t attempt to have phone sex with him.

Ian laughed wickedly. “I know that, cute stuff. But I’m willing to bet, if I can manage to keep my hands off myself for the next few hours, I’ll still be horny tonight. What do you say?”

“Um… maybe.” Russ could feel himself stiffening in his trousers.
Jesus
. He leaned forward to hide it from anyone who might walk by his desk. “But my shift doesn’t end until midnight.”

“I think I can wait. Want me to meet you at your cabin?”

“Sure.”

“I’m squeezing my hard cock through my jeans right now, just thinking about your ass.”

Oh Christ. Not now!
“Cool,” Russ said.
Fuck
. He was rock hard. He desperately hoped he wouldn’t be forced to stand up in the next several minutes. “I have to go. But I’ll see you when I get home.” It felt surprisingly good to say that, even if he knew it was just for a quick fuck.

“I can’t wait to see you.
All
of you.”

Russ disconnected and set his phone down.
Mathematics
, he thought.
Think about square roots. Quadratic equations.
If that didn’t work, he’d bring out the big guns. The United States Senate holding session in the nude.

That should do the trick.

“I’
M
JUST
going to the gym,” Derek said.

Even over the phone, he knew Tim’s eyes were narrowing suspiciously. “With Victor?”

“No.” That was the last person Derek wanted to see right now. “I just had a rough day and I need to work out for a half hour or so—by myself. I didn’t get a chance to go during lunch.”

“Fine. Hopefully dinner won’t be too dried out by the time you get here.”

Derek restrained himself from sighing his frustration into the phone. He knew Tim wouldn’t understand if he tried to tell him the truth.

He couldn’t go to the company gym. Not yet. It was bound to be completely empty after hours, and though he was loathe to admit it, even to himself, the thought of being alone and isolated down there creeped the fuck out of him. But he didn’t want company either. What he needed right now was to be somewhere busy—somewhere full of strangers who wouldn’t try to talk to him.

He still had a membership with Planet Fitness, even though he rarely used it. It was inconveniently located on Lafayette Road on the other side of Portsmouth, which was why he and Victor had stopped going when the company put in a small gym downstairs. But for tonight, it was perfect. The encounter with Victor in the men’s room had really unsettled him.

So he went through his workout routine—the same one he and Victor had been doing for the last few years—making the rounds of the elliptical machines for about a half hour, then doing fifteen minutes on the treadmill. It felt good to have the blood pumping through his muscles again, to remind himself how much he could bench, to look in the mirror and see a guy who was tall and muscular looking back at him.

A man
.

Maybe he could work this out of his system. Maybe a week or two of lifting weights would prove to that cowering, fearful part of his psyche that he was still tough and strong. Strong enough to walk around the office without feeling the need to hide in his cubicle every time he saw Victor. Strong enough to take a dump without fucking falling apart.

When he walked back into the locker room, his shorts and T-shirt were drenched in sweat, so he considered hitting the showers. But there were a couple guys in there already. He could see them from the lockers, casually joking around about something he couldn’t quite make out as they lathered up their naked bodies. And there was that feeling of melting ice inside his guts again, wiping out all the confidence he’d just gained from the workout. It was irrational, he knew. They weren’t going to pin him down and try to fuck him. They were just guys rinsing the sweat off after a workout—just like he should be doing. But he couldn’t make himself go in there.

Instead, he quickly undressed, stuffed his sweaty workout clothes in his gym bag, and put his work clothes back on. It felt disgusting. He smelled bad, his hair was damp with sweat, and the clothes clung to every inch of him. But at least it would prove to Tim that he’d really been working out.

Scratch that. Tim would probably imagine he and Victor had been having acrobatic sex.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Derek closed the empty locker and headed home.

T
IM
WAS
pissy when he got there, as he expected. He was further annoyed when Derek took a few minutes to shower before sitting down to dinner. The meal, though, was perfect, despite the delays. Tim would never allow it to be otherwise. Braised chicken with orange and scallions, diced butternut squash with butter and brown sugar, and a delicate white chardonnay.

After dinner they watched one of the sappy, romantic movies Tim liked. Derek didn’t exactly dislike them—he simply might have chosen something more along the lines of a comedy or one of the numerous martial arts films he owned. Jackie Chan, for instance. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Russ liked Jackie Chan movies. But he shoved that thought out of his mind. It was innocent enough, but he had enough to deal with right now without throwing that into the mix.

Tim snuggled up to him during the movie, which meant he was probably forgiven for his detour to the gym. That was good. Unfortunately Derek wasn’t feeling the romance. He put his arm around Tim, because he knew Tim expected him to. Unfortunately Tim began stroking his inner thigh through the sweats he’d put on after his shower, and soon he was nuzzling Derek’s neck and lightly kissing it. Derek could see the swelling at Tim’s crotch, but his own cock remained stubbornly limp and uninterested
.

Christ, not now….

When Tim paused the movie with the remote and rolled over to press his torso against his, Derek did his best to respond, pressing his lips to Tim’s and caressing his arms and back. He ignored the unpleasant prickling in his scalp and slipped his hands down the back of Tim’s pants to grasp the tight mounds of his ass. Tim moaned, and Derek tried to caress him. But through all of it, his insides felt cold and dead, and his cock refused to harden.

Tim eventually discovered his lack of arousal when he brought his hand up to Derek’s crotch. “Having a little trouble waking up?” he asked playfully.

Derek didn’t know how to respond to that, but Tim didn’t wait for an answer. He slid down the length of Derek’s torso, lifting his T-shirt to lick at each nipple, flicking his tongue down the treasure trail from Derek’s belly button to his sweatpants, and then tugging with both hands at the elastic waistband. Derek lifted his hips to allow Tim to pull the sweats down. A moment later, his cock was in Tim’s mouth. Tim was good. He knew how to tease and caress Derek’s cock like a virtuoso playing a flute. Normally Derek would be standing at attention in no time. Tim had once bet Derek he could make him ejaculate in under a minute. It was just horsing around, but Derek had timed it and Tim won the bet easily.

But not tonight. No matter how much Derek tried to focus on the sensations Tim was producing in his cock, the damned thing refused to grow hard. Tim finally gave up in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“It’s not your fault, hon. My body just… doesn’t feel right.”

Tim frowned. “What do you mean? Are you still sick?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well,” Tim said coolly as he sat up, “maybe you should make an appointment with your doctor.” One of Derek’s hands was still down the back of his pants, but Tim withdrew it as he stood, found the television remote, and switched the TV off.

“Maybe I should,” Derek answered glumly. He didn’t want to talk to Dr. Cassidy about what had happened. How the hell could he even bring it up? And what the hell could a doctor do about it, anyway? It was a done deal. But there was at least one thing Cassidy could do to ease his mind.

T
HE
SEX
was good, at least from an acrobatic point of view. Russ would definitely give it nine out of ten stars. It probably would have been a ten, but there was a little stumbling on the dismount—Ian spilled the contents of the condom all over Russ’s bedspread. Then there was the hasty scramble for clothing and hurried exit. It had felt great, lasted a couple of hours, and left Russ with a body that was thoroughly exhausted and satisfied.

He also felt more alone than before he’d started sleeping with Ian. He lay on his bed for several minutes after Ian let himself out, hating the feeling of sadness that welled up in his chest, pooling around his heart, threatening to overflow into his lungs and drown him. It wasn’t sadness caused by Ian. At least, not completely. Russ had already grown used to the idea that this was just for fun. And it
was
fun.

But fun wasn’t what he’d been after when he went to the gay men’s group. He’d hoped for more. Was a little cuddling too much to ask for?

Max trotted into the room, now that the door was open, and hopped up onto the bed.

“Watch out for the wet spot, pup,” Russ murmured. But he turned his face toward the dog and let Max give him a sloppy kiss. “Oh, sure,” he laughed. “You say you love me now. But I’m onto you. You’re just hoping for a doggy snack.”

“I
T
’
LL
BE
relaxing,” Derek persisted.

Tim snorted. “It’ll be
cleaning
. Lots of it. I’ve only just barely gotten the kitchenette and bedroom in order.”

“The place isn’t that dirty.”

“By your standards, perhaps.”

Derek sighed. “You don’t have to clean if you don’t want to. I can do it. Or we can just… leave it for another time. I really just need to get away this weekend.”

“Why?” Tim asked suspiciously. “You were away
last
weekend.”

“A business trip isn’t my idea of relaxing.”

It was useless. The more Derek tried to persuade him, the more Tim dug in his heels. Finally Derek decided just to go without him. He needed to escape—hide, to be truthful. He needed the cabin. Tim could stay home by himself if he was going to be so difficult. It would be just him and Gracie.

Of course, Tim got in the parting shot, as Derek zipped up his overnight bag. “Make sure to give my best to the hunky neighbor when you roll over in bed tomorrow morning.”

“Seriously?” Derek snarled. “I asked you to come with me, didn’t I?”

Tim merely turned and strode out of the bedroom as if he hadn’t spoken.

Jesus Christ
.

Derek hadn’t wanted to admit it, but maybe he needed time away from Tim on top of everything else. He had no intention of tracking down Russ. This wasn’t about having a goddamn affair. He needed to be alone. Just him and his dog. The rest of the world could fuck itself.

H
E
’
D
ORDERED
new cushions for the sofa and living room chairs a week ago, and they’d come in at the furniture store, so he stopped by and loaded them into his trunk. Then he stopped at the 7-Eleven and picked up a pack
of clove cigarillos. He rarely smoked these days, since he knew it
wouldn’t do a damned bit of good for the body he worked hard to maintain. Plus Tim
hated
cigarettes. But fuck it. If he was going to be alone this weekend, he’d break a couple of rules.

When he pulled into the dirt driveway his cabin shared with Russ’s, he noted Russ’s Outback parked there. But he was still determined to spend the day alone. Russ would just be one more person he’d have a hard time dealing with. He needed time to get his head together, regain his equilibrium.

Gracie was delighted to be back at the cabin, where she could run around and not be menaced by cars, bicycles, and pedestrians. Portsmouth wasn’t a very big city, but it was big enough. Derek never would have moved there if Tim hadn’t already owned the condo. Now, as he unloaded the first cushion from the trunk, Gracie scampered around like a dog half her age, sniffing at Russ’s Outback, the bushes, and other areas Max had no doubt marked. In a few places, she squatted to make sure Max knew she’d stopped by.

Derek let himself in and hauled the sofa cushion inside. Then he went back for the others. It took no time at all to toss them onto the wooden frames they’d been intended for. Less than a minute and it was done—a perfectly comfortable living room set. And apart from a little dusting, perhaps, he didn’t see any need for a massive cleaning fest. Gracie sniffed at the couch, and he was strongly tempted to let her up onto it. But of course Tim would chase her off the next time he was here, and that would just end up confusing the poor girl.