The Other Man (Starting Over Book 2) Read online

  Aled: Two things.

  Aled: Firstly, I’m at work and while my dick appreciates the thought of smashing you up against a wall and fucking you blind, my colleagues probably don’t.

  Gabriel snorted with laughter and thumbed out half a text before he was interrupted.

  Aled: And don’t you dare tell me to wear looser trousers.

  Aled: Secondly, I’m not ready for a brutal game.

  Aled: I need to settle into living with you first.

  Aled: Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re still a bit too edgy for me to be comfortable playing one of our hard games.

  Gabriel sighed and deleted what he’d been about to say.

  Me: Called it.

  Aled: Yeah?

  Me: Mm. It’s been vanilla sex for a week. I mean, I know you like fucking like snails occasionally but not every time.

  Me: But you did say you’d step up to fill in Michael’s gap.

  He didn’t want to push, but—the itch was getting too irritating to ignore. He’d always had a high sex drive, and the T didn’t help matters much. Without Michael, and Aled screwing like a sloth lately, Gabriel was starting to shake right out of his own skin.

  Aled: No Michael.

  Me: No but I’m gonna ring Kevin.

  He held his breath—then released it with a rush at Aled’s immediate reply.

  Aled: Okay :) Be safe x

  Gabriel smiled goofily at the reply before clicking out of the thread. The twitch of anxiety settled and, without it, the throbbing in his work slacks got worse. He was going mad already. He only hoped Kevin wasn’t watching the kids.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me.”

  Kevin snorted. “I know it’s you. Not all of us have a contacts list that just says Grindr Fucks One through Three Hundred.”

  “It’s not three hundred,” Gabriel said defensively. “Anyway, are you busy today?”

  “On my way home. Had a client.”

  “What kind of client?”

  Gabriel could almost hear the eyeroll.

  “The kind who wanted a new kitchen fitting, not a new arsehole.”

  “Any of the other kind tonight?”

  “I have a feeling the answer is yes and it’s you.”

  His voice was completely deadpan, and Gabriel fought the urge to laugh.

  “If you’re busy—”

  “Shut up.”

  The hard edge had kicked in. Gabriel shut up. A little thrill chased up his spine.

  “Are you at work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what.”

  Gabriel wanted a beating. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to be fucked so hard he could feel it in his teeth and Kevin would need to call Aled to come and pick him up. Or to continue the game.

  So he said nothing.

  “I see.” Kevin’s voice—and Gabriel’s dick—hardened. “What’s your safewords?”

  “Red, yellow, green.”

  “You’re going to need them.”

  Then he hung up. Gabriel swallowed and dropped a shivering hand to his belt. He wanted to jack it—but Kevin wouldn’t be far away. And Gabriel could run like a tap when he jacked off. Kevin would know he’d done it and if there was one punishment Gabriel didn’t like, it was Kevin’s punishment for wanking.

  Cigarettes on his junk, no thanks.

  He thumbed back into the texts and forced himself to stop shaking long enough to send his needs.

  Me: I want you to beat me until I use my safewords to make you stop. Then you fuck me until I beg you to stop ‘cause it hurts but then you do me anyway with something worse than your dick until I beg you to fuck me again. I want to be broken and you sell me to Aled ‘cause he needs a new fucktoy.

  It flowed out in a rush, and he sent a screenshot to Aled too. Kevin didn’t reply. Aled just sent a thumbs-up. They’d talk behind the scenes. They always did.

  “Liz! I’m off!” he shouted as he walked back out into the shop and picked up his jacket from where he’d left it on the back of his chair.

  “You have another minute and a—”

  “Blow me,” he said and walked out.

  It was freezing. His thin work jacket was no protection whatsoever, but his cock was burning like the surface of the sun in his briefs, and his arse and cunt already ached to be filled. They throbbed with every heartbeat, reminding him that they were empty and hadn’t been really challenged in a week.

  Kevin was going to rip him a new one. Maybe literally.

  He went to wait by the side of the road and put his phone in his pocket to avoid temptation. Kevin had smashed them before when he’d caught Gabriel texting during a game, and Gabriel didn’t have any money to buy a new one right now. So he stood in the deepening snow, hands in his pockets, and waited for the right car to slow down.

  But the first one that did wasn’t Kevin’s old banger.

  “Angel!”

  Oh, shit.

  That dentist advert smile beamed up at him. A hand patted the passenger seat.

  “Get in.”

  “I’m waiting for someone,” Gabriel said.

  “It’s great to see you again. Text your someone. Get in, let’s have a catch-up.”

  “I can’t.”

  Michael frowned, then the car dipped gently as the handbrake was applied.

  “Come on—”

  “I’m getting a lift any minute.”

  Gabriel’s heart jumped as Michael opened the driver’s door and got out. He was obscenely attractive in the snow, and he’d just come from the gym. Gabriel could see that sauerkraut of a dick outlined perfectly in a pair of extremely unforgiving shorts.

  “It’s not that black guy, is it?”

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows. He stood his ground as Michael came to loom over him. He smelled of sweat and shower gel, with a liberal dose of Lynx body spray. His hand was warm through the sleeve of Gabriel’s jacket when he gripped his arm. A knee nudged Gabriel’s thighs.

  “I miss you.”

  Gabriel bit his lip and pulled back. The hand held on.

  “Come over,” Michael said. His grip was too tight. His other hand touched the small of Gabriel’s back and drew him close. It was...claustrophobic. “It’s been way too long. Like I said, I’ve missed you.”

  Gabriel could feel exactly what had missed him. He pushed back, but Michael didn’t let go.

  “I told you, we’re over,” he said. “You need to find someone else. I’m taken.”

  Michael snorted. “You’ve always been taken. Every man in Yorkshire’s taken you.”

  The remark stung. Gabriel shoved and broke free. He paced a little way up the road, but Michael simply followed him. He caught at Gabriel’s wrist and this time his grip was too strong to break.

  “Fu—”

  The horn cut him off. The anger rising in Gabriel’s chest yielded to a wash of relief as Kevin’s brakes squealed and the car door slammed. And Kevin bellowed.

  Gabriel’s insides shrivelled up in terror. Michael let go like he’d caught fire. A man on the side of the road stopped dead in his tracks. Lights came on in flats all along the street and doors opened.

  Kevin might have said, “Get out of it.” But in his ball-shrinkingly loud roar, it sounded more like, “Gerradavit.” An air horn of pure, unadulterated anger.

  Gabriel dived for the car.

  In a flash, he shot into Kevin’s back seat and slammed the door, locking himself in. Out through the frosty window, he saw Michael hold his ground for all of four seconds before making the wise choice of turning tail. His brake lights came on then the road ahead was clear.

  Gabriel let out a long, shaky breath.

  The car dipped when Kevin got back in and he twisted around to peer at Gabriel.

  “What happened?”

  The master from the text messages was entirely absent. The frown wasn’t anger. It was his friend. It was the man he had to stay in touch with. It was his family member who had said he’d sort it.

 
Gabriel rolled his eyes and said, “He was trying to get me to go to his flat.”

  “He was manhandling you.”

  “It hadn’t got serious yet.”

  Kevin’s tone said that he didn’t care how serious it had gotten.

  “Was he waiting?”

  “No, just passing by.”

  Kevin hummed, eyeing him.

  “I promise,” Gabriel added. “He hasn’t been hanging around since you said whatever you must have said to him.”

  “We didn’t talk much.”

  Gabriel laughed. “You made a lot of noise and hit things?”

  “I hit him. No use pussyfooting around,” Kevin snapped, then nodded. “Fine. If he comes by again—”

  “I’ll call.”

  “Good.”

  “So—” Gabriel bit his lip. “Are we still playing?”

  “Home and a brew first. Then we’ll restart.”

  Gabriel nodded. He preferred the games to start with being picked up off the street, but the domestic punishment ones were good too. They’d have a cup of tea or coffee in the kitchen, then Gabriel would deliberately drop and break the cup.

  Then Kevin would punish him.

  They had a whole row of cheap Tesco mugs in their kitchen cupboards especially for shattering purposes. Sophie used them, Judith used them, Gabriel used them...but only for one thing. So they worked as a signal too, because when they got to Kevin’s house, Judith was feeding the kids and gave Gabriel a knowing look when he took down the plain beige mug from the middle shelf.

  He just smiled beatifically back at her and fished a teabag out of the box.

  They talked for a while. He refused the offered food—he didn’t like being sick, and Kevin’s punishments would definitely make him sick if he ate—but gnawed on a couple of dry biscuits, watching and laughing at the exasperated parents attempting to place food in the children rather than all over the table, chairs, cutlery, crockery and tiles.

  Then Judith hugged him, told Lily and Grace to give him goodnight kisses and hefted the baby up onto her shoulder.

  “Let’s leave Daddy and Gabriel to talk sports, shall we, ladies?”

  “What sports?” Lily asked.

  “Cricket,” Kevin said, which was immediately decried as boring.

  Gabriel said nothing, nursing his cup until the stampede had reached the upstairs bathroom and doors had safely closed between them and curious minds.

  Then—very slowly—he stood up.

  Took three steps to the sink.

  And let go.

  Almost in slow motion, he watched the beige ceramic spin towards the pale tiles. Brown tea formed a long arc in mid-air. His heart rose in his chest and pounded against his ribs as cup kissed floor, and the burst of cool adrenalin through his system was like being caught under the thundering power of the world’s greatest waterfall.

  Green.

  Then Kevin hit him and the tile kissed his cheek.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The phone rang at nine.

  It was late enough that Aled expected it to be the courtesy call from Kevin. The “He’s staying the night with me.” The “He’s fine but we’re not finished yet.” The “Do you need a word before I cage him for the night?”

  But it wasn’t.

  “Do you want it prepared?”

  It. So he was making the call from the dungeon itself.

  “Put it on show,” Aled said, wondering if he was on speakerphone. “I’ll want to inspect it first. I’ll be round in about forty minutes.”

  “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Aled snorted as he hung up, then sat up and thumbed out a text.

  Me: How is he?

  He didn’t expect an immediate reply. They were clearly still mid-scene. So he tossed the phone aside and went to find his shoes. He’d showered and changed after work but was going for the casual look. The kind of guy who used a sex slave to wank into, rather than one who had a particularly sadistic streak.

  It just felt…odd, to be physically cruel when Gabriel had been so twitchy about reforming their rules. In a way, Gabriel’s desperation for a hard game would help. Aled didn’t have to mete out the violence when he was still uncomfortable, but whatever he did do would still hurt in the aftermath of a savage beating from Kevin. Gabriel would get the violence he craved and Aled could ease back into it.

  Win-win.

  The phone lit up again just as he locked the front door, but Aled waited until he’d cleared the new snow off the car before sinking into the driver’s seat, turning on the heaters and swiping open the new message.

  Kevin: He’s fine. Heavy game but nothing broken and won’t need any stitches. Spaced out twice so he’s drifting, don’t go overboard on the punishment if he’s a bit slow. Might want to keep an eye on his back if you fuck him.

  Me: Got it, thanks.

  Spaced was good. Drifting was good. Gabriel didn’t let himself space very often and it was like a drug all on its own. He was phenomenally beautiful when he just let go like that and Aled lived for those scenes.

  And if he’d done it twice under Kevin’s hand, he was bound to do it again for Aled.

  Aled drove leisurely. The weather was foul, the snow turning to icy sleet, so it was almost ten by the time he reversed up Kevin’s driveway. Kevin opened the back door just as he killed the engine, and took Aled to the basement through a quiet and sleeping house.

  “Everything all right?” Aled asked as he unlocked the top door.

  “Yeah, he was fine,” Kevin said. “Just a bit pent-up, I reckon. You know what he’s like.”

  Aled cracked a smile. “Any damage?”

  “Whipped him until he safeworded, so his back is a mess. I’ve already cleaned and checked the cuts, though. He shouldn’t need anything.”

  Aled nodded then schooled his expression and strengthened his stance as Kevin unlocked the bottom door and showed him into the basement.

  It was a sex dungeon. No two ways about it. Aled had only been down here once or twice before and it changed reasonably regularly. A new St Andrew’s cross had been installed on one wall and the tin tub had been sunk into the floor. It bore the remains of a bloody ice bath and Aled gave an involuntary shiver.

  There was a dining room chair laid on the floor, its back resting on the cold stone. Gabriel’s arse was propped on the lip of the seat, his thighs secured to the front legs with zip ties so that his arse and cunt were on full display. He’d been waxed before use and Aled patted the smooth skin curiously. There was no sound—and Gabriel could make them. He was blindfolded but not gagged. His arms were tied in the small of his back and the side of his head lay on the ground. He wasn’t tied to the back of the chair, but then, Aled supposed he wouldn’t have the strength to right himself or the frame he’d been lashed to.

  And Kevin hadn’t been kidding about the mess.

  “Interesting set-up. Could I fuck it like that?”

  “Only when you’re ready to throw it away. Probably break its back if you tried.”

  Aled hummed, patting the upraised arse again.

  “Good for teaching it a lesson, though. It sucks dick good and proper after an hour like that.”

  Kevin stooped and seized a fistful of Gabriel’s hair. He hauled him—and the chair—upright like that, and Aled saw blood bubble over the edge of teeth as Gabriel fought not to cry.

  “It’s quiet.”

  “It learns.”

  Aled grunted. “Come on, then. Where’s the sales patter? I’m not paying your prices for any old thing.”

  “Because I sell quality. Look at it.” Kevin wrenched Gabriel’s head back and rubbed a thumb around his bleeding lips. “Got a mouth like a Dyson. Looks good hanging off cock, whichever end you stick it.”

  “It’s damaged,” Aled said.

  Gabriel didn’t so much as twitch at the harsh pronoun and Aled smirked to himself. He’d tried ‘it’ once and only once and had nearly had his head ripped off. He’d have to remember this.
r />   “It’ll heal. First-time slave. It had ideas above its station. It’s a screamer, too—I have a good selection of gags and chokers if you’re interested.”

  “Oh, I have all I need on that front. May I?”

  “Go ahead. No free fucks, though. Got others interested online. If you don’t want it, I can find another buyer.”

  “I’m not interested in pretty,” Aled said, circling Gabriel. “I need functional. Pretty things break, in my experience. I’m not buying at your prices for something that’ll break in a few weeks.”

  “It’s been fully tested. It’s not going to break.”

  Aled put the chair back down, although not as quickly or roughly as Kevin had righted it. He’d never tied Gabriel to a chair quite like that before and he examined the way Kevin had done it before he examined Gabriel himself. He’d been washed. Used—thoroughly, by the loose grip and lack of whimper at the rough intrusion of dry fingers—but then scrubbed clean. Aled massaged, watching Gabriel’s mouth working soundlessly, before withdrawing and using Gabriel’s mouth to clean his fingers.

  “It’s breakable,” he said. “You can’t go selling it as pretty when you’ve ripped apart its back like that. And it’s looser than a Holbeck whore. I’ll not pay more than half for it.”

  “Half? It gets wet the minute you wave a cock at it. It’s worth double what I charge in the first place!”

  “Doesn’t need to be wet to fuck it.”

  “Test it out, then. Fuck its face, see how pretty it looks on your cock.”

  “Like I said, I’m not interested in pretty. Half or nothing.”

  “I’ll knock ten percent off, for the marks.”

  “It’s bleeding!”

  “Twenty percent off, then.”

  They haggled, Aled carding his fingers through Gabriel’s hair and watching his thighs shivering. Aled knew those signs. He was wet and itching to touch himself, but not permitted.