Violated (14 page)

“He’s all right,” Russ said. “Great body, adorable face, pretty good in bed.” He didn’t sound all that enthusiastic about it.

The image of Russ being fucked up the ass by a man flashed unbidden into Derek’s mind, making him extremely uncomfortable again, but he found himself asking, “Doesn’t it… doesn’t it hurt?”

Russ didn’t ask what he was referring to. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

He wasn’t sure. But now that it had slipped out, he wanted to know. It had been agonizing when Victor tore into him. How could any man—or woman, for that matter—
enjoy
it? “I’m sorry. That was crossing a line, wasn’t it? You don’t have to say anything.”

“I don’t mind,” Russ said, “but I think I need another cup of coffee if we’re gonna have a heart-to-heart about my ass. You got a clean mug?”

Derek retrieved one from the cupboard, hating the way his hand shook as he set it on the bar. Russ looked at it and wrinkled his brow, but he didn’t say anything. He picked up the mug and poured himself some fresh coffee from the automatic coffeemaker within his reach.

“It hurts,” he said. “Sure. But as long as you use a decent amount of lube and go slow, you get past the pain after a few strokes. Then it starts to feel good. You feel this kind of tingling and… I don’t know… a kind of
fullness
in… well, for lack of a better word, your bowels….”

“That sounds disgusting.”

Russ laughed, took a sip of his coffee, and then nodded as he set the cup down. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. This is why I’m a cop and not a poet. But it’s… it’s like you’re hungry and you’re being filled and…
satisfied
… with this guy’s cock. You just want to draw more and more of it into you to feed your hunger.” He sighed and shook his head again. “I guess that sounds kinda gross too.”

It didn’t feel like that
, Derek thought.
It didn’t fucking feel like that at all!
It had hurt like hell, and it had been disgusting to have this bloated, fleshy…
thing…
inside him. He’d just wanted it out of his body. Though even that confused him, because he’d jerked off to thoughts of sucking on Victor’s massive cock more than once. Nothing made any sense anymore.

“Are you okay?”

The bacon was burning. Derek scooped it out of the skillet and placed it on the paper-towel-covered plate he’d set aside. He realized he was sweating again, and he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m fine.”

“Are you having another panic attack?”

“No!” he snapped. He looked at Russ’s concerned expression and forced himself to calm down. “I’m fine.”

“You really took your stepfather’s bullshit about anal sex to heart, didn’t you?”

Derek poured the eggs into the skillet, then moved the plate of bacon to the bar. As he set the plate down, Russ reached out and placed a hand over his. Derek jerked his hand away.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m… feeling kind of… fidgety this morning.”

Russ looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Derek said. Then he added, “I guess I was pretty impressionable as a teenager. It wasn’t just the ‘bullet in your brain’ comment—though that one really stuck with me. Larry tripped me once on fucking concrete, because I was running with my hands hanging loose instead of balled into fists. He slapped me if I cried or he caught me looking at a boy too long. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve sworn my name was Faggot during the years he lived with me and my mom.”

“Jesus!” Russ said with a sour look on his face.

“Yeah, well… he’s dead now.”

T
HE
URGE
to pull Derek in and hold him was strong, but Russ knew Derek didn’t want that. Not only would it have been inappropriate, considering he was engaged, but Derek clearly thought comforting wasn’t something men should need or want. It was frustrating. He had something going on. He needed help. But there was nothing Russ could do except provide an ear if he wanted to talk.

And he
was
talking… a little. He seemed to be trying to say something, but he couldn’t just come right out and say it.

Unfortunately, any further discussion was cut off by the cabin door opening and Tim saying sarcastically, “Oh! I see you two have just rolled out of bed.” He stood there in white pants so tight Russ could see his testicles, a T-shirt with the word “Fabulous” stenciled across it in rainbow lettering, and a black vest. He had both his hands on his hips, and his mouth puckered like the quintessential catty queen—the wronged boyfriend coming home to discover his lover with another man.

Except that wasn’t what he’d discovered. Derek and Russ hadn’t done anything wrong. They were just having breakfast and talking.

“For fuck’s sake, Tim,” Derek muttered. “We rolled out of
separate
beds. I just invited him up here for breakfast.”

“You both happened to get out of bed at twelve-thirty?”

Derek sighed. “I woke up in the middle of the night again, and he saw the light on, so he came over. We talked until sunrise. Then he went home to bed, and I went to bed here. Okay?”

Tim didn’t look convinced, but he came inside and strode over to the kitchenette. “Must have been miserable.” He looked directly at Russ and added, “Considering how hot and sweaty it was last night—the weather, that is.”

“You’re acting childish,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“Me? Childish?”

That was Russ’s cue to leave. “I gotta go,” he said, snagging a piece of bacon as he slipped off the bar stool. He caught the apologetic look Derek gave him, but he just waved at both of them and said, “I’ll catch you guys later. Come on, Max!”

He let himself and Max out, acutely aware of the icy silence in the kitchenette behind him. This was going to be ugly, he could tell.

A
FTER
ALMOST
two months, going to work was no longer utterly terrifying. Walking by Victor’s office was still hard, but Derek just steeled himself and walked, his eyes glued to the window at the other end of the room. They’d exchanged e-mails several times by now, all work-related and impersonal, but somehow he’d managed to avoid dealing with Victor face-to-face. And Victor hadn’t made any attempts either.

But Derek knew they’d have to talk in person sooner or later, and to his dismay, it happened that Thursday.

“Hey, bud.”

Derek froze, his hands on the keyboard in the middle of typing an e-mail to one of the QA guys. He’d been so focused he hadn’t heard Victor walk up behind him. He couldn’t turn to look—couldn’t move at all. The best he could manage, while his heart pounded in his chest, was a faint, “Hey.”

“I haven’t seen you at the gym lately,” Victor said. Out of the corner of his eye, Derek saw him rest his elbow on top of the cubicle partition. The smell of his cologne settled on Derek like a clammy mist. “You wanna hit it after lunch?”

Derek knew he meant the company gym downstairs. They’d hardly ever been to Planet Fitness over the past year. And the thought of being alone with Victor in the locker room, stripping down and showering, made Derek’s stomach clench. “I can’t today,” he managed to say, even though his throat felt as if it were trying to close up. “I have a doctor’s appointment.”

He didn’t. He’d been pussyfooting around about seeing Dr. Cassidy, afraid of what he’d find out. But Derek needed to know if Victor had given him anything as a memento—a nice little case of herpes for old time’s sake… syphilis…. God forbid, HIV…. And there was the fact that Derek still couldn’t defecate without it hurting. He might as well call for an appointment and get it over with.

To his surprise, Victor asked, “You feeling okay, man?”

You mean apart from you breaking me into a million bleeding pieces, you motherfucker?
“Just routine checkup stuff.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow, then?”

Derek felt as if his insides were screaming, but he heard himself reply, “Sure.”

“I
SEE
a little abrasion here,” Dr. Cassidy said, gently probing Derek’s anus with a gloved finger, “but no signs of permanent damage. Bear down a bit.”

Derek did as he was told and felt the by-now familiar prickles on his neck and scalp as the doctor’s finger slid into him. He closed his eyes and clutched one hand in the other tightly, trying not to lose it, as Cassidy prodded the inner wall of his rectum and then ran his finger over Derek’s prostate. Derek was bent forward over the examining table, so the doctor couldn’t see the sweat beading up on his forehead.

Cassidy withdrew and snapped the rubber glove off. “Everything seems good. This long after the fact, I’m sure any minor abrasions you experienced have healed.”

“Then why does it still hurt?”

Cassidy shook his head and shrugged. “There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with your sphincter or the inner lining of your rectum. I could send you to a specialist, if you like. Perhaps I’m missing something.” He pulled a couple of tissues out of a dispenser on the wall and handed them to Derek. “You can wipe yourself and pull your pants up.”

Derek wasn’t sure if he could endure someone else probing around down there. Not right away. Maybe the pain would fade in time. He took advantage of Cassidy’s back being turned to wipe his forehead off quickly before using the tissues for their intended purpose. He drew his pants back up and fastened them.

“I can’t say I recommend anal sex for anyone, gay or straight,” Dr. Cassidy went on, “but it doesn’t generally do much harm if it’s done sparingly. Just be sure to use a good amount of lubricant. Unprotected sex, on the other hand, is never a good idea. Especially if you and Tim are going to invite other men into your bed.”

Derek had fed him a story about a threesome and things getting a little rougher than anticipated. Dr. Cassidy knew Derek was gay and knew Tim’s name, but fortunately Tim had his own doctor. Whatever Derek chose to tell Cassidy wouldn’t get back to him.

“Well, I think it was just a one-time thing,” Derek said, dropping the wadded-up tissues in the wastebasket.

Cassidy motioned for him to sit down on the examining table.

“That’s up to you, of course,” Cassidy told him, “but if you do, please use condoms. You know the drill.”

“Yeah.”

“As far as testing for STDs goes, sure. We can do that. In the absence of external symptoms—sores or rashes—we have to rely on your body producing antibodies against the virus in order for the tests to be reliable. We can test for some STDs, like syphilis. That only takes a couple weeks from the time of exposure for the test to be valid. But the HIV test isn’t very reliable until about three months out. Do you have reason to believe your friend might have an STD?”

Derek thought about that for a moment. He’d seen Victor naked often enough—and to be honest, he’d
looked
. No rashes or sores that he’d been able to see. But Victor seemed unlikely to be practicing safe sex. He was the type of asshole who’d probably expect the woman to worry about protection, if anybody would. HIV might be unlikely—straight men were much less vulnerable than gay men or straight women, and Derek still thought Victor was straight. Hadn’t he joked about Derek being his first man? But that didn’t mean it was impossible. And other STDs? The pig probably had half a dozen and wasn’t even aware of it.

“He doesn’t strike me as someone likely to be very safe,” Derek said.

“Then I’d recommend both you and Tim go back to using condoms for now. Keep an eye on things and let me know if you spot any rashes or sores. I’ll have you back in for some more blood work in a few weeks.”

R
USS
NEVER
would have responded to the call if he’d recognized the address. Or at least he would have informed dispatch it was a bad idea. As it was, he pulled up to the Lofts at Mill Number One and was out of the car before he recognized the two men standing in the road in their underwear. Ian… and his supposedly “ex” boyfriend, Jay.

Ian’s eyes went wide as he looked at Russ in the driver’s seat. He walked over, leaving Jay standing by himself, arms crossed over his naked chest and a surly look on his face.

Officer Chavez pulled up in her cruiser, and he met her as she climbed out.

“Fuck,” Russ said under his breath. “Would you mind dealing with the other one while I talk to Ian?”

Chavez rolled her eyes at him. “This makes call number six for the two of them, but who’s counting? And didn’t you say they broke up?”

Russ shrugged and went to meet Ian by the front steps. “Let me guess—you got back together. Or were you never really apart?”

“We broke up for a while,” Ian replied. “Don’t get all jealous. You and I never said we were exclusive, did we?”

Russ wasn’t sure if he was jealous or not. He really hadn’t been all that attached to Ian. The guy was a good lay, but that was about it. Maybe part of him had hoped it would develop into something more, but not a very big part. And after a few weeks, he’d more or less resigned himself to their relationship just being friends with benefits. Still, Ian could have at least given him his full attention while it lasted. “How long have you two been back together?”

Ian shrugged. “A month or so.”

A
month
? “So you’ve been fucking both of us for weeks now.”

“Well, yeah,” Ian said, not at all contrite. “That’s why it’s been harder for me to find nights when I can be with you. He’s been spending a lot of time at my place.”

Nice
. Thank God Russ had insisted on using condoms.

“Were you ever going to break it off with me? Or were you just gonna keep stringing me along?”

“I don’t know. I was kind of winging it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking my statement or something?”

Disgusted, Russ flipped open his notepad. “Yeah. Care to tell me how you and Jay ended up screaming at each other in the parking lot—in your underwear?”