Violated (15 page)

“We were out clubbing in Ogunquit earlier tonight, and I started dancing with this cute shirtless guy. Then suddenly Jay yanks me out of there and insists we have to leave.” Ian rolled his eyes. “He barely spoke to me all the way home. Then when we’re getting ready for bed, he starts going on and on about what a slut I am.” He waved a hand at the parking lot. “I stormed out, he came after me, and somebody called the police.”

“Were you shouting?”

“Probably.”

Russ restrained himself from sighing.
Be professional
, he reminded himself. “Ian, it’s past eleven.” Russ had been heading back to the station when the call came from dispatch.

“Well, that might explain it, then,” Ian said with an irritating smirk on his face. Then he leaned in close and asked, “Does this mean you don’t want me to come over anymore?”

“Yes,” Russ said coolly. “I don’t hate you. I’m not going to refuse to talk to you if I bump into you at group again. And I’ll admit it was fun. But booty call is over now.”

W
HAT
THE
fuck am I doing here? This is insane!

Derek couldn’t watch Victor stripping out of his work clothes, just a few feet away from him. Normally he would have watched—or at least glanced occasionally. Victor had seemed to like the attention, even while he ragged on Derek for being a perv. But not now. Even Victor seemed to feel the tension in the air, and he kept his eyes on the locker in front of him. They’d barely spoken a word since they entered the locker room.

But after brushing Victor off with a lame excuse about meeting Tim for lunch—something Victor knew hadn’t happened in years—he’d allowed himself to be roped into going to the gym on Monday. It was ridiculous. Victor couldn’t force him to work out with him. He couldn’t force him to spend one second of time with him outside the office. He was damned lucky Derek hadn’t reported him to the police! So why were they alone in the locker room, stripping down?

Because I’m a fucking coward
, Derek thought in disgust.
Because he fucking
owns
me now
.

That thought chilled him. Was that really how he felt? That now that Victor had so thoroughly destroyed him, he was in control? He’d already spent the morning reliving the nightmare and picturing Victor slamming him down on the tile floor and ripping him open, again and again. His rational mind tried to tell him the fucker would never risk doing that anywhere a coworker might walk in at any moment, but that didn’t stop the prickling needles and nausea from continuing to wash over him in waves.

He’d spent the morning trying to think of ways to escape—he’d almost hoped he’d vomit, so he could claim another case of the flu. But when Victor showed up at his cubicle, his brain had seized up. He couldn’t think of a coherent thought or sentence—not a single word—much less a way out. He felt as trapped as he’d been with Victor’s weight on top of him. If he said no, everyone in the office would see it. They’d want to know why he and Victor weren’t hanging out anymore. People had already commented on it—just casual remarks about them not working out or eating lunch together since they got back from Tampa. Derek had been brushing them off by saying he was backed up on his workload. But if he kept it up, his coworkers would start wondering if something had happened in Tampa. And he’d rather die than have them figure it out.

So when Victor came to get him, Derek’s body stood up and followed him downstairs, walking as if it were a robot operating under remote control. But Derek wasn’t the one at the controls.

God, help me
….

He’d been terrified of what would happen when they were alone together. Would Victor say anything? Would he finally acknowledge what he’d done? But he’d just led the way into the locker room and opened up one of the lockers. Then he’d stripped, and Derek had stood there, frozen in place.

Victor stepped into his jockstrap, followed by his shorts, and the fear that had paralyzed Derek continued. After he’d pulled his T-shirt over his head, Victor turned to him said, “You should get dressed. We only got a half hour.” Then he walked out into the weight room.

Derek realized how bizarre it must have looked for him to just stand there while Victor dressed, but the fact that Victor hadn’t commented at all was further proof that he knew exactly how fucked up everything was. He was trying to pretend things were normal, but he knew they weren’t.

He knows what he’s done to me
.

Now that Victor was out of the room, Derek changed into his workout clothes. He thought about just walking out, going back to his desk upstairs, but that might bring about a confrontation he didn’t want to deal with. So he went into the weight room.

Because I’m his bitch
.

They were silent as they made the rounds of the ellipticals. Normally Victor kept up a steady banter about work or his latest conquests, but he was silent. Nor did he attempt to slap Derek on the shoulders or make playful swats at his ass the way he usually did.

Derek hated it, hated being with him, hated the sight of him. But he carefully maintained a calm, neutral expression. He realized Victor might be trying to save their friendship. Derek harbored no desire to patch things up between them. Any feelings he might have had for Victor were buried so deeply he couldn’t remember them. What Victor had done was unforgiveable. He had yet to even apologize. Not even a lame “Sorry, dude. I was
so
trashed.”

Showering after the workout was tough. Again, Derek couldn’t bring himself to undress while Victor was near him. He waited while the man stripped and stepped into one of the showers before he did the same, and even then, he was shaking. A part of Derek still waited for the curtain to fly open, for Victor to slam him against the wall and take him. He stood under the spray until he heard Victor turn off his shower and step out. A minute or so later, Victor’s shadow fell across the shower curtain, causing Derek to freeze in terror. But he didn’t open it.

“I’ll see you upstairs,” Victor said.

For a moment Derek couldn’t speak. It was like that afternoon in the bathroom stall all over again. But at last he found his voice. “Okay.”

He stayed frozen in place until the shadow moved away and he heard the locker-room door open and close.

R
USS
SET
the casserole dish down on the table and took in the assortment of cookies, cakes, and baked beans with tiny hot dogs the other men had brought.
Is this what I’ve come to?
Potluck every month at the gay men’s group?
Not that it was a fate worse than death or anything, but… dammit! He wanted to be one of the hot young studs who sauntered in now and then, flashed his ass or his biceps at everyone to make them crave him, and then sauntered out with one of the
other
young studs. He didn’t want to be one of the older single men who showed up every month like clockwork to show off his new recipe for mac and cheese.

Though I do cook a mean mac and cheese
.

Then, just to make the evening absolutely perfect, Ian wandered in—with Jay at his side. Ian glanced across the room, caught Russ’s eye, and then quickly looked away. For the rest of the evening, he studiously avoided making eye contact and never came within ten feet of Russ. Russ did his best to ignore him, chatting with the other men there and sampling nearly everything on the potluck table, but it wasn’t long before he tired of playing that game and started thinking up excuses to leave early. Max had been cooped up too long? He had to go into work? Sudden appendicitis attack?

“Hey,” Ian said behind him.

Russ whirled around to find him standing there, grinning lecherously. Jay was nowhere to be seen.

“Um… hey.”

“Sorry I’ve been avoiding you all evening. You know how Jay is.”

“I guess.” Did Jay even know about him sleeping with Russ? Or was Ian just being cautious? “Where is he now?”

“Bathroom. I can’t talk long. I just wanted to thank you for not charging us with anything last week.”

“It wasn’t a favor,” Russ said. “We prefer to give out warnings when we can.” He was telling the truth… sort of. He really hadn’t wanted to deal with bringing Ian and Jay down to the station if he could avoid it. If something about his relationship with Ian had slipped out, things could have gotten very uncomfortable.

Ian smirked as though he saw through the half-truth, then glanced at the door before saying, “So… I’ve been talking to him about… bringing somebody else in.” When Russ stared back at him blankly, he added, “You know, a threesome.”

“Oh.”

“He’s open to the idea, as long as it’s all up front.”

Somehow Russ doubted that. Ian might be good at manipulating his lover, but Jay was clearly the jealous type. This didn’t sound like it would end well.

“Are you interested?”

Russ blinked at him. “Me?”

“Of course, you,” Ian laughed. “Why else would I tell you about it? You’d totally love it. He’s a dynamo in bed.”

Jesus
. For perhaps a tenth of a second, the idea did seem appealing. They were both hot guys, and who wouldn’t want to be sandwiched between two sexy, naked men? But then he remembered the part about Jay being someone who routinely chased his boyfriend naked out into the street with his jealous tantrums. Not that he wasn’t right to be jealous—Ian was a piece of work. And alarms were already going off in the back of Russ’s head—not just little smoke-detector-type alarms, but massive air-raid alarms.

“Thanks,” he said, “but I don’t think that would really work out well.”

Ian shrugged. “Your loss.” He turned away so fast Russ thought he was pissed, but then he caught sight of Jay coming back into the room. Ian probably hadn’t wanted to be seen talking to him.

Whatever.

Why can’t I just find a nice guy who likes dogs and cuddling?

Against his will, the image of Derek flashed into his head, shirtless in the morning, his short blond hair sticking up in all directions as he cooked bacon for them.
One who’s single
, he mentally corrected.

I
T
WAS
mid-October, and Derek hadn’t had sex with Tim for three months. The excuses had recycled for a while—“I don’t feel well” or “I’ve had a long day” or “I’m really tired tonight.” But by now the excuses weren’t necessary, because Tim had more or less given up trying. The tension between them was growing daily. Dinners were eaten in silence, and they were sitting apart on the sofa when they watched movies rather than cuddling like they used to. Derek had no doubt Tim was convinced he was having an affair, and he could hardly blame him. What other explanation could there be? Derek had already told him Dr. Cassidy had pronounced him in perfect health.

He could try telling him about Tampa, but would that help matters? It had been three months ago. People were supposed to report that sort of thing to the police, go to the hospital, have cotton swabs stuck up their ass to retrieve the evidence. Derek hadn’t even reported it to Human Resources. Who would believe him now?

Certainly not Tim, who was half convinced Derek wanted to fuck every attractive man within a hundred-mile radius.

The only thing Derek could do was hang in there. His aversion to being touched would fade away eventually, and then he could make it up to Tim somehow.

But even more disturbing than the train wreck of his love life was the way he’d slipped back into a routine with Victor. Every weekday they ate lunch together at the Green Bean, then walked back to the office building, undressed in the locker room, worked out, and then showered together. Of course, they weren’t actually sharing the same shower stall. Derek still couldn’t allow Victor to see him naked again, before or after the workout. It was massively uncomfortable, and he hated every minute of it. Often his body trembled in fear as he undressed even after Victor had gone into the weight room. But still he did it.

Victor was growing bolder now, horsing around more as if things were still the same between them. Still not even an apology. And Derek knew there probably wouldn’t ever be one. Even if Victor acknowledged what he’d done was wrong, Derek had never known him to apologize for anything. Everything in his world was light and fun, and if anything he did pissed you off, well, you were the one with the problem—not him. That’s the way it had always been with him, and that’s how it would always be.

Victor knew why things were so tense between them. Derek had no doubt about that. Every long uncomfortable silence was an admission of guilt.

I
T
FINALLY
came to a head one night as Derek was walking to his car after work. He’d stayed later than he’d intended, catching up on his tickets. Like everything else in his life recently, they’d gotten out of control. He’d always been good at keeping up, even lending a hand to the others in his group when they were overwhelmed. That was how he’d become supervisor. But now it had all fallen to shit. Nobody had said anything—not yet. But that wouldn’t last long. Victor had already been dropping hints during their workouts that the VP was taking notice.

Derek had called home to let Tim know he’d be late, but it was even later than he’d anticipated by the time he went downstairs. The parking lot was nearly empty, and the sun had set behind the tall pine trees at the edge of it. And, of course, his car was parked about a mile and a half away from the building.

He was about halfway across the empty expanse of tarmac when a voice sent a chill up his spine.

“Dude!” Victor called out to him.

It sounded as though he were just coming out of the building behind Derek. Despite having adjusted to being with Victor in the locker room, this felt very different. The likelihood of anybody seeing them out here, if Victor assaulted him, was next to nil. The fear that gripped Derek’s entire body forced him to walk faster, fishing his keys out of his pocket.