Adrenaline Jake

Louise Collins

M/M erotica

Word count: 28000

Copyright © 2017

All rights reserved

Chapter 1

Jake’s body was an instrument. In fact, it was several. His heart drummed in his ears and the stomps of his feet provided the echoing basing line. The swish of his joggers added a warping noise and his tongue clacking the roof of his mouth brought it all together. His body created its own catchy soundtrack, one that made him smile as he ran giddily down the path.

The music of the man chasing him rasped and spluttered, it skipped with no rhythm like a record with a scratch.

“Oi!”

The man behind had given up saying more, could only croak one-word yells of outrage. His adrenaline was fading, his tune was drowning out to nothing, but Jake’s continued to blare. He knew the streets they ran well; he needed to insure he could escape. It wasn’t a neighbourly place; hence people who were watching the mad dash didn’t intervene. The audience the chase gathered shook their heads disapprovingly and went back into their terraced houses, grumbling softly as they went.

The panting and wheezing from the man behind vanished, the thumps of feet that competed with Jake’s stopped dead and he slowed his run to a walk.

There was fifty meters between them. The man hunched over with his hands on his knees panting at the pavement. He had been so intimidating mere minutes ago, the sort of man you shouldn’t annoy under any circumstance.

Jake strolled a few meters closer, knowing full well he could sprint away if the bull of a man charged him. Sweat beaded on the man’s bald head and after two drops hit the pavement, he lifted from his bow and glared. The anger in his expression would’ve been enough to terrify most, but Jake could see his red-stained cheeks and his chest heaving from exhaustion. Even the man's eyes were streaming from the excursion.

Jake slapped the wallet repeatedly against his palm, testing whether the man had anymore stamina. There was a moment where Jake thought he’d start running again, the hands around the man’s kneecaps tightened as if he willed them to be Jake’s neck, then he sagged, and shook his head.

Jake sighed. The excitement was over; the addictive music of his adrenaline flooded body was muted. He opened the wallet, flicking his thumb over the array of cards to discover the man's name.

“Harry...This was fun and all, but I gotta go...”

There wasn’t much in it, a ten pound note that Jake took and folded in half. He tucked it into his jacket pocket where the man could see.

Harry’s lips drew back in a snarl, but before he could roar or launch a barrage of curse words, the wallet landed at his feet.

Jake took cash, but that was all. There was no value in cards that would be cancelled immediately; he wasn’t cruel enough to take the cherished family pictures or the wallet itself that could have sentimental value. He took the money, not that ten pounds was going to make a difference to his life.

The adrenaline rush though, the fear of being caught, and the excitement that was ultimately why he did it. Adrenaline was a necessity to his life, on par with oxygen, food and water. He would die without it.

“You’re crazy, kid.”

Jake cocked his head in mock thought. He was pretty damn crazy, didn’t need the guy who had been chasing him down the last mile to tell him. It wasn’t normal to seek this kind of excitement, he knew that, but it was an addiction he couldn’t cure.

Harry had caught his eyes immediately, tattoos on his face, bulging biceps and a bald head. The kind of man who would take no shit from anyone. Jake knew he’d give a good pursuit. He had taken off like a barrelling rhinoceros at first, swearing and snorting as he went, but it was all bravado. He was all mouth and little-to-no fitness.

Picking a target was a delicate balance to get right, too shy-looking and they wouldn’t pursue, would take the theft personally when it really wasn’t. Too rich and there was no chase, he once stole a Rolex only for his target to turn up the next day with a new one. The scary-looking men were the ones to go for. The ones that stood with their back straight sneering at everyone like they were scum. The ones that had a reputation to upkeep. Ones just like Harry.

Jake watched as the exhausted man staggered away, then sighed deeply and began his own trek home. He was on the other side of town, would never be so stupid to thieve where he lived.

The sky was grey, the endless dreariness stretched above, but at least it wasn’t pelting down with rain. As soon as that one positive crossed his mind, a flick of moisture struck his cheek.

“Gotta be kidding me...”

The sky was in fact, not kidding him. A month’s worth of rain poured down on him as he trudged up the pavement. Rows of houses were packed together each side, lights on in the downstairs windows, families eating their meals while Jake plodded home to his microwave meal for one. He didn’t resent them, had come to terms with not being included in a family dynamic. The system wasn’t designed for an eight-year-old problem child. He was nearing twenty-two and had buried those years of unwarranted hope and rejection.

The exhilaration of the night had mellowed to emptiness; the hollowness expanded in his chest, consuming his heart with the poisonous mundane life. His brown hair was flat on his forehead; he turned his head left to right to flick it out of his sight. The joggers he wore were damp and rubbed uncomfortably. His calves ached, his toes throbbed from the wet and with each step his shoes squished out water.

Jake’s problem, his flaw and his weakness was his need to feel alive. The only way he could fulfil that desire was angering a goliath. The thrill of the chase, his body being flooded with endorphins and adrenaline, there was no other way to achieve it. Danger made him feel alive.

The traffic lights clicked even though there were no cars, and Jake dragged his feet as he made his way through the puddles in the road.

The car appeared from nowhere, wheels squealing as it came to a halt. Instinctively Jake dropped to the ground and rolled on his side, narrowly avoiding the bonnet. He collided with the pavement hard enough to jog his teeth and lose a lungful of air in a rush.

The car door opened and a mantra of ‘shit’ came from the driver.

Jake, still dazed and without air in his lungs, didn’t move, didn’t respond. Just lay soaked on the ground.

The man skipped round the car, hooked Jake under the armpits and dragged him toward the boot.

“The fuck?” Jake mumbled, and the man paused.

“You alive?”

“Yes, I’m fucking alive.”

The man huffed once before dropping Jake to the floor. His face was scarred, if someone had to guess which one of them had just been hit by the car, it would’ve been him.

“Get outta here, kid.”

“You were gonna shove me in the boot?”

The man brushed his hand through his black sweaty hair. “Thought you were hurt.”

“Why not phone an ambulance then?!”

“I don’t have time for this.”

The man stepped over him, climbing into the car.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jake said, getting to his feet, “give me a ride.”

“No.”

“It’s the least you can do.”

“Fine!” the man announced. Jake went to get in the passenger seat but the man waved him away. “The back, get in the back.”

He begrudgingly got in, thankful to be out of the wet.

No sooner had his arse hit the seat, the car was growling down the road, houses and lamplights passing in a blur. The seatbelt did nothing to comfort Jake, and he resorted to clinging onto the seats in front like an angry cat, hissing like one too.

“Hey, you wanna slow down?”

They took a corner far too fast, and the wheels mounted the pavement--

“You said you wanted a lift, kid.”

“I never said I wanted to die though.”

The man barked a laugh, turning his head. “We all gonna die.”

The man’s eyes were wide, crazed with red splitting lines. It was then that Jake re-evaluated his life choices; he was sure it was idiotic to get into a car with a stranger, especially when he already knew ‘said stranger’ drove like a lunatic.

“I want out,” he yelled.

The man bobbed his head, “there’s the door, jump it.”

The road whizzed past so fast his skin was sure to be shredded on impact. He’d be skinned alive if he jumped at that speed.

“Slow down!”

“No way, you wanna leave, you leave.”

Jake thumped his hand down on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll die.”

The man glanced behind, out the rear window of the car.

“An’ I’ll die if I stop, I’ve already wasted time on you.”

“What, why would you die?”

The man tilted his head to the passenger seat. A silver case sat on top. Jake stared at it, trying to realise its relevance.

“Oh god, it’s a bomb,” he gasped, trying to decide whether he’d prefer to be ripped to pieces by the road or blown apart by the device.

“No, it’s not a bomb.”

“What is it then?”

The man laughed, full on bat-shit crazy laughed, and Jake leaned away from him.

The adrenaline was bursting in every atom in his body. He should’ve been terrified; he was more than likely going to die. But that biological drug rushing around his body was making him giddy with the thought. He no longer wanted to leave the car. He wanted to see how this madness was going to end.

“Something of my boss’s.... something valuable.”

“You’ve stolen it?”

The man cackled a crazed laugh and in an instant Jake saw his future. This was where his addiction would lead him. Even so, curiosity still fizzled in his veins.

Before Jake could question the man about the valuable item in the briefcase, a high-pitched ping sounded out.

For a few seconds nothing happened that suggested anything was wrong. The car still thundered, the rain still pelted on the windows, and the man stayed focused dead ahead.

Then Jake saw the small hole in the windscreen, a neat circle in the sheet of glass. The man’s head lolled forward, blood seeping into his lap.

“Shit!” Jake yelled, leaning as far as the seatbelt would let him and gripping the wheel. The bullet hole hovered in front of him; the man had been taken out head on.

The pedal was still pressed to the floor by the body and Jake was struggling to direct the car when it was going so fast. He unclipped his belt with one hand, climbing into the front and sitting on the dead man’s lap.

He kicked the man’s foot off the pedal bringing the car under control. It was gross, and he tried to ignore the blood running down his jacket where the man’s head rested at his back. He tried not to think about the man he was perched on being warm, only mere seconds ago being alive and talking but now definitely dead. A quick glance in the wind mirror had his heart jumping to his throat. A blacked-out car was following him, copying his every turn.

Jake knew the streets, knew which roads looped round into circles and which were dead ends. He drove in a seemingly random route until he lost the blacked-out car.

Only then did he release the breath he’d been holding. His breathing came in pants, clammy against the steering wheel as he bowed trying to calm.

He did his best not to hyperventilate as he found somewhere to ditch the car. He didn’t turn to face the man behind, didn’t want to see his lifeless expression.

The place he picked was a remote bit of road, no other cars were around, no people lurked and there were no road lamps to show what he was doing.

He slowed the car on the grass verge, almost going too far and stopping in a ditch. Sickness swelled in his stomach and he scrambled for the handle, landing in the grass with a squelch. He vomited; shock, fear, disbelief, horror, he didn’t know why but the taste of sickness was bitter and burned his throat.

The driver's head had dropped forward again, gravity the only force left to move him. He had been killed; he had stolen from the wrong person and lost. That was where Jake's life was heading if he continued with his adrenaline reliance. He shook the thought away. He would not end up dead.

The briefcase called to him. It was the reason the man's life had been snuffed out. The case was the man's legacy, the last thing he had stolen. It called to Jake the way shiny objects call to magpies. He had to know what was inside, what valuable item was surrounded by the walls of metal and concealed with a bolted lock.

It was impulsive and stupid, but he took the case. He would triumph where the other man failed.

He ran with it, and when he couldn’t run anymore he walked with burning sides while hiccupping for breath. Home. His decrepit flat was in sight and he had never been so relieved to collapse down on the sofa, face to the cushion, breathing in the stale scent of home.

Chapter 2

After picking at the lock on the case with no success, he hid it. He wasn’t sure why he’d taken it, didn’t know what to do with it, needed to conceal it so his brain could catch up on rational thought.

The flat next to his needed refurbishment. Mould had stained the ceilings black, damp had spread blotches in the wall. The floorboards were broken, in some cases torn up. It was the perfect place to hide the case. He slotted it under some loose boards, moving a tattered rug to cover it.

Jake showered, the heat sunk deep into his aching muscles. He scrunched his toes, reviving them from their damp state. Adrenaline from stealing a wallet was one thing, but the death ride followed by the mystery of the metal case, it was a whole other level of feeling alive. Even after he spent an hour turning into a prune in the shower, he didn’t calm. His heart still thundered. His breathing stayed fast, lungs working overtime like he had to be ready to run any second.

He ruffled his hair with a towel, jolting back when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, stark white skin and round disbelieving eyes. How could he feel alive but look near death? That was the key though; he had it the wrong way around. On the edge of death was when you felt truly alive, and the case was going to put him in the path of the reaper.

He forced his aching limbs into his cotton PJs and struggled into a clean t-shirt. The sofa moulded around his body and he sunk into it with no resistance. He ran through the events of the night in wide-eyed disbelief.

The man had stolen something from his boss, and the boss must’ve been responsible for his blunt demise. Jake had been chased through the streets and thought he had got away without being seen, but what if he hadn’t. What if the man’s boss saw?

He felt most alive when he was tantalisingly close to death. It was a cliché, a stupid one but that didn’t make it any less true.

Jake awoke in the morning with added neck ache from the squishy sofa. He rolled his head on his shoulders to loosen the knots, stretching his limbs out and groaning like a dying animal.

“Jesus...”

The previous night played before his eyes. His back itched as if blood still seeped down his clothes. The man had died, had been shot expertly. A shiver ran up Jake’s spine. It was one possible fate that awaited him after stealing the case. He shoved his hand down the cushion of the sofa to find the remote.

Jake expected the driver’s death to be on the TV. Man found dead. There was nothing, no news report, no murder inquiry at all, as if that night hadn’t even happened, it was an elaborate dream.

The knock on the door dragged him from his thoughts. It was tuneful, a joyous beat that didn’t match the moody area of town. Jake crept over, peeking through the spy hole. He saw a woman. Her hair was deep red, the same shade as her lips. She didn’t look like a normal neighbourhood resident. She had all her teeth and didn’t seem doped up.

“Umm, what do you want?”

She seemed to know he was staring through the spy hole, her lips stretched into a warm smile, showing her pearly whites.

“I’m lost; need some help.”

If there was a pretty woman that needed saving, he was sure to offer his services. He unclipped the chain on the door and opened it wide.

“What’s up?”

Her smile dropped into a scowl, eyes narrowed into slits, and he suddenly realised it was a terrible idea to invite this woman into his home.

She shoved his chest and he stumbled back, opening his mouth to protest, but his jaw snapped shut when two suited guys entered the room with her.

“Tom, check the rooms.”

The suited man with the shades did as he was told, except checking the rooms really meant destroying them. Jake winced at each breaking of glass and snap of wood. He thought better than to argue with him, just stood awkwardly as his flat was destroyed.

The red-haired woman didn’t break eye contact, she glared with enough ferocity to make Jake feel like a very small bug under her very large boot.

The other man grimaced as he scanned the room, but then his face lit up when he saw the fridge.

“Don’t mind if I...”

He addressed the question to Jake, but it was clear he was going to do what the hell he wanted anyway.

“Yeah, go for it.”

The man ruffled his blonde hair and smiled, it reached his eyes as if he was genuinely grateful. He flicked his chin and moved to the fridge, swinging it open and rooting through the contents.

“You got any bread?”

“Jesus Christ, Carl,” the woman snapped.

He shrugged in response. “Was a busy night.”

“You weren’t even there, it was me and Tom.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “Bread?” he said again to Jake.

Jake smiled tightly, pointing at the loaf on the side. “Right there.”

The dark-haired man with the shades and moustache returned. “Nothing in there.”

“Search this room then.”

He bowed his head at the woman, shoulder barging Jake out the way.

“Yo, where’s the butter?”

Jake gawped when he saw his kitchen table covered in an array of foods from cupboards.

“Err...Fridge.”

Carl scrunched his face up. “You keep it in the fridge? How the hell do you make a sandwich?”

“I don’t, I have toast.”

“Whatever man...”

Carl turned, busying himself with the concrete like butter.

“I can’t see it, Amber.” The shaded man moaned, scratching the back of his head.

Jake took a step towards the redhead. “You gonna tell me what this is about?”

She didn’t answer.

In the kitchen, Carl clicked his fingers to get Jake’s attention.

“This meat? It looks odd...”

He held a packet of chicken up for Jake to see. The chicken had been in there over a month, Jake was pretty sure it hadn't started out furry when he bought it...

“Urm, yeah...a delicacy.”

Carl smiled, waving the packet to the terrifying woman blocking the doorway. “Ya know, I thought it was some special stuff, fancy meat.”

“Tastes good,” Jake muttered, “bit earthy but adds something new.”

Carl smiled again, bowing in gratitude. He was the good cop and the dark-haired man and the woman were the bad ones.

“Where’s the case?” the woman barked.

“I don’t know anything about a case-”

She pointed an accusing finger out at him. “You...are lying.”

There was a tense standoff, her fierce eyes intimidating the hell out of Jake’s blue ones, but he didn’t give anything away, staring back with his practised confused look. It worked wonders in the stationary shop where he worked.

The pin drop silence was disrupted by the smack of lips and the swallowing of food.

“Jesus Carl.” she yelled.

He wobbled his head in reply. “Sorry. I was hungry; besides we know what we gotta do.”

Jake rocked on his heels, overly aware of the dark-haired man, Tom, directly behind him, the terrifying woman in front and the man that was going to experience the worst sandwich-induced-stomach-cramps ever at his side.

All his exits were blocked.

“Come with us willingly, or we’ll drag you out unwillingly.”

Put as bluntly as that, he didn’t have much choice; he nodded. “Okaaaay.”

He plodded outside the flat with the three of them surrounding him and climbed into another car with strangers, all of whom were quite possibly lunatics. Déjà vu had never felt so real.

The woman, Amber, slapped his face for the eighth time. It stung and made Jake’s eyes water but still he didn’t reveal anything about the case or the night before. He took the blows, relished being integrated by the gangster wannabes. They were filling his adrenaline addiction better than anything before. He schooled his face into a look of fright, knowing if they thought he was cocky they would ramp the blows up. They thought he had the case, and all he had to do was keep denying it, accept being smacked about a bit and they’d let him go, and then he would finally get to see what all the fuss was about.

The woman spun away, stomping her heel as she did. The hard floor echoed her frustration. The building bounced the sounds like a speaker. All the windows were boarded up and graffiti decorated all the walls. It was the cliché location to be tortured for information. They even set up a table near enough for him to see it covered in knives. It should have been intimidating, but the three of them kept darting unsure looks to each other, as if they doubted themselves.

When Amber wasn’t hitting him, she was barking questions at him. Demanding the location of the case. He played innocent, repeating over and over that he didn’t have a clue what they were talking about.

“You were seen walking down the street with it!”

Jake made his lip wobble pathetically. “With what?”

“The case, the big silver case.”

He pretended to think, before shaking his head with a gasp of despair. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about...”

She slapped him lightning fast, the pain so raw and intense it took Jake’s breath away. His cheeks were getting puffy, and he could see the red mass of his swollen face creeping up to his eyes. The case, he had to endure the harsh treatment to be the one to open it.

Carl was groaning in the background, gripping his gut and swaying on his feet. “Jesus, I don’t feel good.”

“Shut up!” Amber roared, not at Jake for a change, but the man staggering behind. “You were the idiot who ate the food!”

“I thought it was good. Bet it was the butter, no one should keep butter in the fridge.”

Jake snorted; the guy was questioning the butter rather than the fluffy white chicken that had been in the fridge.

Tom took his glasses off and tucked them into the top pocket of his jacket with a huff. “He’ll be here soon.”

“He won’t be as nice as I’m being,” Amber hissed, prodding Jake’s stinging cheek with her fingernail.

He moved his face away best he could, shaking his head. Jake doubted the existence of ‘him’. Purely another way of intimidation to get people to spew their darkest secret. He had played the part of confused bystander long enough, it was time to have an epiphany and escape the situation.

He straightened up in the chair, giving Amber the best pleading look he could muster.

“Wait, case...artist's case?

She grimaced with her lip back, all teeth and threatening. “It was a case, a silver case...”

“I was walking down Norfolk Street with one yesterday.... from work; it was a canvas case...”

Her hand swung back to strike him, but Tom coughed awkwardly and she stopped.

“Stationary boxes, paint cases, canvas ones?” Tom asked.

Jake nodded along before regretting the movement instantly when the room started spinning.

“I work at the stationary shop.” He groaned.

It wasn’t what he envisioned he would be doing, nor was it what he wanted to do for rest of his life, but the shop had some perks. Main one being his boss, Sam. Even with the respect Jake had for him, he still stole from the shop. Not for profit, but the thrill of Sam finding out. The artists cases were the most valuable items in the shop, big cases that glimmered when they were on display. It was a game, stealing one and seeing how long it took Sam, or the other members of staff to notice. He always returned them eventually, it was the first time his habitual buzz had provided him with a perfect out.

“Why does it matter what he does?” Amber spat towards Tom.

He shifted under her gaze. “There were some art cases at his flat...”

“A silver one?”

Jake scrunched his brow trying to remember what they looked like, most likely they were black, but he hoped Tom hadn’t paid attention to the exterior, only the unwanted items inside.

Tom jolted at her yell, before nodding and scrunching his brow. “Possibly...”

“You’re telling me this now.”

“I didn’t put two and two together...”

She shoved Tom in the chest and he stumbled. “Until this exact moment, when he’s gonna be here any second!”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“We’re dead.” Carl croaked, bracing himself over the cutlery table.

“You’re not helping...” Amber yelled his way.

Jake squirmed, stuttering his words to keep up his innocent facade. “ N-now you know I got nothing to do with this, you can let me go.”

“Like hell! I might not be able to blame you for the case, but I can beat you for killing one of our own.”

Jake frowned, wobbling his head. “What?”

“Him.”

She pointed her finger at the pale Carl.

“’m not gonna die, am I?” he murmured, wide eyed and trembling.

The three of them started arguing, shoving at each other and growling out their words. Jake twisted his wrists, doing his best to weaken the rope. The sound of the three bickering droned into a constant hum, and his dizzy mind made him see double, three sets of twins squabbling and pushing in front of him.

A door screeched behind and the three arguing fell silent, backed away from each other and stood at attention.

Jake couldn’t turn to see the mystery person, could only hear the slap of leather shoes on the concrete floor. The sound bounced around the space, puncturing the silence like consistent gun shots. He felt the odd prickle of nervousness at the back of his neck and shuffled in the chair. Fear, his body shivered with fear.

The steps stopped, Jake waited for someone to speak, for the person behind to announce themselves but they didn’t.

The three had frozen, all wide-eyed and mouths flapping. Although the person behind didn’t speak, there must’ve been a visual cue because Amber started blurting her words.

“I’m sorry, we haven’t got it.”

The pat of shoes started again, came closer, stopping directly behind where Jake sat. A hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing and wrinkling his t-shirt. The grip was strong; to the point it ground Jake’s bones, made him want to shout out. He didn’t, the atmosphere around this person had even him keeping his mouth firmly shut.

Amber shook her head. “My mistake...I thought-I thought he’d taken it.”

All their confidence of moments ago seeped out of the room, and although Jake couldn’t see who was behind him, he felt the power of their presence, the strength and control they possessed.

Jake’s heart drummed, his body jerked with each beat, hard enough for the man to feel. Fear increased excitement, the stakes were higher when he was in danger and with this person's presence, he felt it was a life or death situation. He wasn’t the one to decide his fate, neither were the three in the room. His life was in the hands of the mystery person.

The room was still, not even Carl was groaning or murmuring, although sweat was bubbling on his forehead. They were all waiting for what was to about to happen. The person commanded the room without speech, without movement. Jake thought he must’ve kept everyone in order by his lingering stance and stare alone. Suddenly he was happy he couldn’t see the man, he must’ve looked terrifying.

The person was directly behind him, and his vision had been trance-like with colourful blotches for the last ten minutes. Faint fumes of tobacco seeped around him. Jake hungrily breathed the scent, not cheap, but rich and dark.

He tilted his head, the swelling on his face swamped his eyes, and he could only see through slits of his skin, but he looked at the hand on him, no longer squeezing down to the bone but resting.

The size and the fact it was marked by dark shapes of a tattoo, told him it was most likely a man. The heat from the palm soaked into Jake’s body, heavy and grounding; it stopped him from floating into the land of unconsciousness.

The hand lifted and soft material dropped around his eyes, knotted at the back of his head so he couldn’t see. It was unnerving to have no sight whatsoever, but he didn’t verbally protest or shuffle away.

The footsteps echoed again, stopping in front of him with a click of soles. The hand on his shoulder returned, it turned as the man moved, keeping Jake very much in his grasp.

“I-I’m Jake...think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he mumbled.

The pain on his scalp was sudden, head being tugged to the side with aggression. The hand on his shoulder had gone, but tightness pulled at his strands, bending him in the chair. Unexpected coldness to his temple made him flinch. He ground both his hands into fists and kept as still as he could. A click sounded out by his ear. The other didn’t have guns, hadn’t threatened him with any, but this man did, he must’ve been the same man that shot the driver. He was a killer.

It was a very clear threat from the man, no words needed, just his head tugged to the side and a metal barrel pressing firmly at his temple.

It was the moment he should have confessed, blurted to the heavens that he had the case to spare his life, sob that he didn’t want to die, but he matched the man’s silence with his own. His own acceptance of the situation. He waited.

The pressure of the gun vanished, but the fingers in his hair remained, pinching the strands and keeping him still. His lips pulled back to hiss, but he stopped himself by chomping his tongue. He wouldn’t be the one to break the atmosphere.

Jake jerked at the sensation on his neck, not a quick slice from a blade, but soft, a tickling on his skin. There were fingers on him, following the lines of his throat, ghosting over his flesh intimidating and slow. The man wasn’t going to use a gun or a knife, he was going to strangle Jake to death, or break his neck, there was no question this man wasn’t strong and ruthless enough to do it. He knew it just by the atmosphere that surrounded him, and the fear the others expressed being in his presence.

The fingers didn’t tighten or grab at him, but moved slowly over his skin. It was almost hypnotic, and the effect was immediate. His flesh broke out in goosebumps, rushing from his neck down to his toes in a wave of shivers.

The pads of the man’s fingertips moved to his jaw, following the sharp angle from his ear to his chin. Jake couldn’t see, there was no sound; his whole focus was on touch, the softness being shown to his jaw in contrast to the throbbing in his cheeks from Amber.

The fingers stopped at his chin, thumb pressing down on the dimple there. Firm enough for his lips to pop open with a suction sound.

A breath that sounded closer to a pant breezed through Jake’s lips. Fingers were cupping his chin; a thumb ran along his bottom lip at a leisurely pace. It was such a small stimulus, but in a room full of silence, face stinging with fire, the touch was making him crazy, making his toes curl in his shoes and his fists flex at his back.

The thumb continued to move back and forth on his bottom lip. It was feather light, more irritating than anything, but it made him pant like a thirsty dog. There was still a forceful grip on the back of his head, and fingers hooking his chin, leaving his head fixed in position. Completely at the man’s mercy and Jake’s body sung with it.

The thumb pressed firmer, plumping Jake’s lip out and rubbing along the moist flesh inside. Jake was panting, opened mouthed rasping for breath against the man's thumb. It was mortifying that these small touches were affecting him, but he couldn’t help it. No one could see his embarrassing flushed cheeks with the red marks on his skin. That was one good thing about being slapped repeatedly in the face.

Whatever was going on was between him and the man. The others in the room were no doubt watching, but they probably believed his panting and heaving chest were from terror. The man and he knew it wasn’t. He was pretty sure the man could probably see his pulse jack-hammering in his neck, could see the skin on his arms had pimpled and feel the tremors running through his flesh. Even more obvious than the desperate gasps of air, and his body being rattled by shivers, was the bulge in his pyjamas. His manhood stood to attention like a flagpole because a guy was fondling his lip....

So much for hiding his reaction, all of them probably had a good view of his straining manhood, they were probably withholding smirks, all except Carl.

The tightness to his hair lessened. The fingers burrowed their way through his strands, nails barely catching his scalp. It made him shiver; he swallowed, shifting in his seat trying to distract himself so he didn’t moan at the rush of sensation.

It didn’t just feel good, it felt bloody amazing and dizzying and disorientating. The man wasn’t even doing anything. His touches weren’t sexual, but they were having that effect on Jake.

Jake’s tongue met the digit in his mouth, pushed on it gently and the thumb pressed back.

More humiliating than getting turned on was moaning softly at that small contact, the man reacting to something he did. The little whine Jake released was more likely felt than heard, and the man paused his touching. Jake nudged with his tongue again, needing the response, the communication between them, whatever the hell the odd language their body’s spoke he wanted more.

The man didn’t press back. Before disappointment could even register, his head was aggressively shoved forward. The hand caressing him vanished, the gaps the fingers made in his hair cooled and the pressure on his skin where he’d been handled faded to nothing. His body felt numb after being burning with fire only seconds ago.

Footsteps slapped on the concrete again, but this time they faded away from Jake. The door screeched when it opened, and it whined slower as it closed, blocking the sound of retreating footsteps from Jake’s ears.

What the bloody hell was that? And more importantly, who the hell was that?

The energy the man had fed into his body dissolved and he sagged in the chair. The sudden tiredness was so swift and all-consuming he didn’t have time to yawn before his head was bobbing forward.

Unconsciousness stole him, and he sighed into it.

Chapter 3

They let him go. He should’ve felt relieved to be back at his flat after coming so close to death, but all he felt was expanding emptiness.

The high depleting after the adrenaline hit, but this time the feeling was more intense.

His normally pale complexion was blotched with purple and red and his eyes, normally crystal blue in colour had sunk into his swollen face. The brown stands on his head were sticking up in tufts. He didn’t want to rake his finger through it though, knew he’d remember how good it felt to have another man do it against his scalp.

A mess was an understatement, Jake looked awful.

He hissed when he pressed peas to his face, but after persevering for a few seconds he could tolerate the pain.

The sofa was softer than his bed and he dropped down on it, facing the ceiling. The bag of peas was balanced on his face, numbing it all over, including his still-tingling lips. He sighed into the cold and relaxed his body.

Jake awoke when the warmed bag of peas tumbled to the floor. The swelling had lessened. It still hurt like a bitch but he could see again.

He stood in front of the mirror with an unhinged jaw. He looked pretty damn awful, both eyes sporting purple patches and cheeks puffing. Sam was not going to be happy when he rolled into work.

There was no mark on his temple where the gun had pressed, no finger stepping-stones across his flesh, no split skin on his scalp, and as strange as it was, it was disappointing not to have some mark from that moment. Amber’s marks were clear all over his face, but the man’s.... there was no evidence it had even happened. As Jake glared at his own reflection, he started to doubt the memory. His head had been spinning; it might well have been a hallucination... He'd gotten aroused by a hallucination, a male one.

He wasn’t gay, he loved women, there had been a slight interest in his school years, a few tugs on his mates hard on when they compared size wasn’t exactly experience. It was teenage boys seeking stimulation. There had been no more time for experimentation when he had to find a job and a shabby flat to live in.

His attraction for the man must’ve been some messed up dream between consciousness and unconsciousness, that’s what he tried to blame it on...but when he touched his lip, his breath hitched, body exploding with shivers at the memory of the thumb there, rubbing gently.

“What the fuck?” he yelled at himself before stomping away.

As expected when he turned up for work, Sam spotted him a mile away.

“What in heavenly fuck happened to you?”

Jake waved the attention off. “Looks worse than it is.”

Sam studied his face intently. “Well, it looks pretty damn bad. Who did that to you?”

He struggled to come up with a convincing lie. “No one.”

Sam wagged a finger in his face. “Explain.”

Jake shrugged, mind finally giving him an escape. “Boxing tournament down at the gym...”

“You...you tried boxing?”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, was pretty good at it till I got knocked out.”

Sam shook his head. “Well I can’t have you serving, go sort the stock in the back instead, yeah. And give up boxing, you obviously suck...”

Sam walked away shaking his head, muttering something like ‘stupid kid’ under his breath. He always called him kid, but to the ancient Sam, everyone was a kid. He never revealed his age, but Jake thought he was at least seventy, his hair was thin and white rather than grey and his skin was cracked with a century's worth of wrinkles. He was still the closest thing Jake had to family.

His week past, as boring and mind numbing as ever. Most people ignored his aubergine face, but Rachel pouted in pity each time she saw it. He smiled politely back, reiterating that he was fine, but it seemed to upset her more when he didn’t break down and reveal all.

He was fine, physically. The memory of the guy plagued him, and he found himself playing with his bottom lip where the man had touched.

The playlist of women in his head that he kept for releasing himself didn’t work, but as soon as he thought about the hand in his hair, the fingers on his neck and the thumb in his mouth, he erupted in his hand, more confused than ever. The man, he wanted to know who he was, what he had done to command that level of control and power-

“So how many did you fight?

Jake hummed himself back to attention. “What?”

Sam tutted with his eyebrow raised. The expression dug deeper wrinkles into his forehead.

“You said you had some boxing tournament last week...how many did you fight?”

“Oh three, a red head, bearded dude and a kinda geeky looking one.”

Sam bobbed his head, still unconvinced. “And who knocked you out?”

He couldn’t hide the shiver than ran up his spine. Sam’s mild interest turned to focused curiosity; he squinted and leaned into his personal space.

“A man...I don’t remember what he looked like.”

Sam jabbed his cheek with a bony finger. “Boxing’s not great for brain cells, and you’re already lacking a few.”

Jake brushed the other man away. “Was exciting that’s all.”

“That kind of excitement could end with you in the hospital...”

He nodded as if considering Sam’s point of view, but on the inside, he rolled his eyes. What was life without excitement, without being pushed to the edge?

Jake had just begun the mile trek home, sighing at the sky when a prickling sensation raised the hairs on his skin. The familiar unease of being watched.

He spun on the spot, fixing his attention to the black car parked by the road. It was expensive, shiny, without a blemish. All the windows were tinted and the second Jake took a step towards it, the engine started and it drove off.

It was those people...had to be, but why were they still watching him? He didn’t have what they wanted...

He laughed. His laugh turned full on hysterical. He dropped to his knees, tiny stones digging into his skin but he didn’t care. He did have what they were looking for. Caught up with the memory of that man touching him and the pending sexuality crisis he forgot he had stolen the case and hidden it away. Forgotten the mad chase through the streets and the dead thief from the car. Forgot his desperate need to open the case and see what treasure it held, what the thief stole from the mysterious man. He climbed to his feet, grinning to himself the whole way home.

He forced the smile away from his lips when he saw another blacked-out car by his flat. No one could afford a luxury vehicle like that in the area, and he was surprised they had even risked parking it in such a rough part of town. This time when he walked towards it, the engine didn’t purr with life; it stayed silent.

The driver’s window wound down and there was the brunette with the shades and facial hair tapping idly on the steering wheel.

Jake stooped down at his window. “You want something?”

Tom bunched his lips before answering, “Besides the obvious...no.”

“Coffee?” Jake asked, flicking his chin out to the back seat. “Anything for him?”

Tom glanced behind him. “Who, the invisible man? No one in here but me...”

Jake straightened. “Whatever.”

He moved to the doors of the flats and they flew open, narrowly missing his face. Carl was there, his eyebrows shot to his hairline when he saw Jake.

“Don’t worry, steered clear of your food this time.”

“You’ve been at my flat again?” Jake mumbled, “why? You know I don’t have what you’re looking for.”

Carl shrugged with a pitying smile. “Have fun clearing the mess.”

Jake stood tapping his foot as Carl got into the car. He expected them to drive away, but they didn’t. They both grinned towards him.

“Utter morons,” Jake hissed.

Carl wasn’t lying about the apartment being a mess; they had literally torn the place apart, even taking up some of the carpet. Before anger could consume him over his smashed-up home, he moved to the window, cracked it open and perched on the ledge.

“Find anything?” he called, knowing full well they hadn’t.

Tom swore at him.

“Same to you,” Jake yelled, before slamming the window shut and assessing the damage.

Nothing in the place was worth anything, all second-hand furniture and cheap stuff. His bedroom had been stripped, mattress split with a blade to get to the insides. Clothing was strewn all over the place and the more Jake stared at his items, the more he frowned. There were trousers, shirts, jackets, socks, but all his underwear was gone.

“What the hell?”

He searched through the heaped piles, finding none before stomping into the living room to find the laundry basket. Even his dirty ones had vanished.

He went back to the window to demand his underwear back, but the car had gone. Jake looked up and down the street just to be sure and ducked back inside.

The underwear crisis was put on hold. It was time to find out what was in the mystery box...

He crept out into the corridor, moving to the abandoned flat. No lock on the door, he shoved, and it creaked open. The first thing that registered about the room was the smell, damp and musky. He wrinkled his nose as he went inside, closing the door softly behind.

He tugged the case out from beneath the floorboards and ran his finger along the seams. The Stanley knives struggled, didn’t make a dent in the lock. Jake resorted to cutting a rectangle from the side of the case. Several of the knives snapped, and he peered at his remaining blades with growing unease. He had ‘borrowed’ as many as he dared from the stationary shop, believing he would return them the next day and Sam wouldn’t know any different. When the third blade cracked he grit his teeth and reached for the last one. The others had made the grooves; it was time for the final blade to bust through the metal.

A ball of excitement tumbled round his insides, gaining momentum each side of the rectangle he etched. This was more exciting than every Christmas and birthday put together, the most anticipated present he’d ever opened.

Jake prised it open like a clam. He cut the front pane, buckled and bent and he was inside, about to lay eyes on the clam's priceless pearl. Inside the case was a box, a small one he plucked from the velvet interior. He lifted the lid, eyes bulging out of their sockets when he saw what it held.

It sparkled, the clarity was beyond perfect. At first, he thought it was a sapphire, dark blue and glinting in the box, but once he plucked it from the velvet he scrunched his features at the stone. The box had the final clue to the precious stone. LVB diamond was printed on the inside of the box. A blue diamond that was brighter than any clear sky, bluer than any tropical sea. It was stunning, so much so that Jake sat crossed legged with his mouth hanging open like an awestruck child.

He’d known what was in the case was going to be good, but this went above and beyond what he thought possible.

When his composure returned, his mouth had long dried, and his eyes burned from where they’d stuck open in fascination.

“Jesus,” eased through his hoarse throat.

He was in possession of the most beautiful diamond he’d ever seen, and he had no idea what to do with it. He slipped the lid back on, tucked the case beneath the floorboards and crawled his way back to his flat, still reeling from the shock of it.

What do you do when in possession of a huge diamond? Carry on as normal. The next morning, he got up, dressed, munched a bowl of cereal and went to work in a trance.

When he got there, his gut swooped to his feet.

There wasn’t just one blacked out car but three. He started running, sprinting to the door in record time.

“Sam?!”

His boss turned at the desperate shout of his name, but instead of smiling like he usually did, he looked furious.

“What have you done, hey? They said they’re here ‘cuz of you.”

Sam and the other workers were gathered at one end of the store; Jake spied suited men making their way up and down the aisles.

“Well?”

He dragged his attention back to Sam. “I’m sorry.”

“They make a mess of this place, you’ll clean it up. You understand?”

He nodded along, unable to look Sam in the eye when he was glaring at him like that. In Sam’s day, he probably would’ve got a clip round the ear for bad behaviour.

A cough had him spinning around. Tom was there again, flicking his head so Jake would follow.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Tom smiled, a laugh mumbled through his closed lips and he smacked Jake on the shoulder.

“Haven’t found that case, have we...”

“Not my problem,” Jake hissed.

“We’re just checking it didn’t find its way here...and the boss wanted me to get a few bits.”

Tom grabbed a basket and shoved it to Jake’s chest. “Customer service and all that...”

Jake swung it by the handle. “Fine...just don’t go trashing the place.”

Tom pursed his lips and nodded. “Deal.”

“What does your boss need, then?”

Tom ducked and weaved his head, before pointing down an aisle. “Over there.”

Jake led him to the place he pointed. “Your boss wants paint...white paint?”

Tom hummed at the tins, banging the tops like drums. “Good for painting over the blood.”

“Why not just use red and be done with it?”

Tom gripped his shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that? What we do to people is art.”

Jake ignored him, grabbing a tin and placing it in the basket.

“No, no, no..... not that one.”

“Which one?”

Tom pouted his lip and pointed to the sky. “One at the top.”

“It’s the exact same paint.”

“He wants the one at the top. Play nice and we won’t trash the store.”

Jake stomped his way to the step ladder, pulling it along so he could climb to the top pots of paint.

“Bit dangerous, stacking them like that. What if they fell?” Tom chirped, tapping the bottom of the ladder with his foot. Jake gripped on extra tight, not wanting to slip and fall on his arse.

“Don’t tempt me to hurl one.”

Tom wagged his finger up at him. “Play nice.”

Jake gripped a pot. “This one do?”

“Nah, one right at the back...”

Jake leaned over, reaching for the furthest one. He’d just gripped the handle when a snap sounded out from behind him.

Tom was holding his phone up, taking pictures of Jake bent over the top shelf of paint.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jake growled.

“Getting what the boss asked for, a picture of you offering yourself.”

Jake stomped his way down the steps. “He asked you to take all my underwear too?”

Tom shrugged. “He likes the thought of you commando...What the boss wants, the boss gets.”

“He’s sick,” Jake hissed.

“Sick? You’re the one that got stiff when the boss touched your precious hair...”

The bruises had faded from his face and he could no longer hide his embarrassment under the slap marks. He was pretty damn sure Tom could feel the heat radiating off him.

Tom chuckled, fanning himself. “Yeah, we all saw that.”

Too mortified to reply, Jake glared a hole into the floor. Maybe if he could make it big enough, he could hide in it...

“Well, nice seeing you...” Tom leaned in, reading the badge on Jake’s chest. His glasses were there, hanging from an arm in Tom’s top pocket, it would be so easy to take them from the gloating man. It was, after all, what Jake was good at.

“Jake...we’ll be in touch.”

“I’d rather you weren’t.”

Tom clicked his fingers and the hovering suits left the store. Jake followed Tom out, stolen glasses hidden behind his back.

Two of the black cars disappeared, leaving the one destined for Tom to get into.

The cocky man waved when he opened the door and with him momentarily distracted, Jake pulled the glasses from his back, twirled them in his hand and waited to see how long it would take for Tom to realise they were his own.

A rather long time it turned out, Tom kept smirking, wrinkle denting his brow as he grew more confused at Jake not disappearing into the store.

Then realisation struck, and his eyes went wide, his hand moved to pat at his pocket. It was Jake’s turn to grin like a smug bastard and he wore the expression like he owned it.

With Tom still too stunned to react, Jake dropped the shades to the floor and promptly trod on them.

Anger exploded on Tom’s face, his lips pulled back, his eyes went wide and glassy. Before he could climb back out from the car and throttle Jake, a hand shot from the back seat.

It grabbed Tom’s shoulder, and he immediately went limp. He sank back into the seat under someone else’s wishes.

Jake knew it was him, the man was there. In complete darkness on the back seat. All Jake could see was his tattooed hand, pinning Tom in place, but the knowledge he was there had him staggering back as if pushed. The air around him felt hot, body tight and tingling. He stared into the back of the car, knowing that man was staring back, looking him up and down. He resisted every urge in his body to touch his lip, not to pick at the skin while the man’s eyes were on him.

A mask of indifference descended over Tom’s face. The hand that anchored him to the seat vanished into the darkness. Tom slotted his seatbelt into position, started the car and drove away without looking at Jake or his shattered glasses once.

Only when the car had faded into the distance, could Jake breathe again. He staggered back till he hit the wall and slid down to the floor.

He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it up with a growl. What the hell was wrong with him?

Excitement, just knowing the man was thee ramped up his thrill level. The underwear stealing and the photos of his arse, there was a sexual element to the man’s interest. The thought didn’t repulse him, but the opposite. Jake’s body hummed intrigued, his crotch responded, swelling tight in his trousers.

After gathering some composure, he went back inside. Sam was waiting, tapping his foot on the floor.

“What have you got yourself involved in?” Jake waved his hand, making to walk around Sam but was blocked by his arm. “Jake?”

“They thought I’d stolen something from them-

“Have you? Are you mad?!”

Sam had a hand on each of Jake’s shoulders, was shaking him, growing more hysterical the longer Jake took to speak.

“N-no, they got it wrong.”

“They’re not the type of people you wanna be involved with.”

“Well, I ‘m not. No need to worry.”

Sam did look worried, and didn’t look convinced. “You in trouble, you need to tell me and I’ll help.”

Jake grabbed Sam’s wrists, squeezing gently, so he'd let go, but not enough to harm. “Everything’s fine.”

He moved off down the store, distancing himself from the rest of the staff and any customers.

Jake had to ease Sam’s fear by carrying on like normal. He thought he’d achieved it until lunch break.

He typed big blue diamond into his phone, not expecting anything to come up. He sprayed his mouthful of water across the room when he read the news articles.

“What the hell's got in to you?” Sam mumbled.

He couldn’t reply, his lips popped together like a goldfish and Sam left the staff room with a puff of air.

A priceless blue diamond had been stolen from the museum in Brentford, the reward money was half a million pounds. He pressed his thumb over the photograph of the diamond. It didn’t do it justice, didn’t show how it sparkled, and didn’t portray the right colour of blue. He had never seen that shade, didn’t know it existed until he settled his eyes on it.

There was no mistaking it was his diamond, the driver had been murdered trying to steal it, the mysterious man must’ve stolen it first. Jake had found himself top of the list of people stealing the diamond.

They watched him at the shop; every time he left his flat a car appeared and followed him. Even in the supermarket he spotted Carl, waving a packet of ham at him. The mystery man was suspicious of him, had got his men to follow his every move.

Tom and Carl's intimidating loitering wasn’t working, and Jake knew they would step up their game to see if he had the case. Kidnap him again and torture him for information.

As much as he wanted the adrenaline, he didn’t want to be beaten fatally, being slapped in the face was one thing, but he was sure they were capable of far worse feats.

Jake had to think what he wanted to do with the diamond. Was it stealing when it had been stolen somewhere else? The museum was desperate for its return; the collector was offering an eye watering reward. Returning it was the obvious thing to do, yet Jake hesitated.

The people tracking him oozed danger, and with them came the euphoric buzz. That man was watching him, but hadn’t made a move to hurt him. He was enjoying the stalking, just as much as Jake enjoyed being his prey. The underwear, the photograph, it was almost as if he was trying to flirt with Jake. Eventually the man would get fed up of watching and waiting, he would take the diamond by force. Jake had to outwit him.

It was the next day, in the staff room; the answer sparkled in his face. Rachel had her hair tucked behind her ear. The glinting from her earlobe had Jake intrigued.

“They diamonds?”

She chuckled, twisting one between her fingers. “No, silly, can’t afford diamonds.”

Jake shrugged. They looked like the real thing, sparkled like them too.

“You got any blue ones?”

She smiled brightly. “Have every colour.”

“Could I borrow them...see if they suit me?”

He tugged at his earlobe so she could see his long-healed hole.

“Yeah, sure.”

He winked at her. “Thanks Rach.”

Jake’s plan was to return the diamond to the museum. He was being watched at every turn, followed wherever he went. It was intimidation, pure and simple, but he could get out of their sights with a decoy, leave them flagging behind while he got the glory of returning the diamond.

Rachel didn’t let him down, bought him a small box with two blue studs.

“Rach, you’re a star.”

If all went to plan, she’d receive a portion of the reward.

She swept her hands through her hair. “You owe me.”

“Name it and you’ve got it.”

Her teeth dug into her lip. “A date...?”

A few weeks ago he would’ve grinned filthily back, maybe raised his eyebrows, but no beacon of desire lit in his chest. There was no simmering interest with Rachel even though she was a pretty girl, but with that man, desire and need had boiled-

“Jake?”

“A mate-date,” he replied, pretending not to notice her sagging shoulders.

Chapter 4

It was time to get his reward, half a million to be exact.

He breathed deep through his nose, puffing his chest out before releasing and opening the door. The car was waiting outside his flat like it had every day for the past two weeks. Instead of ignoring their presence like he normally did, Jake strolled over and tapped the window.

“Look, I don’t want any more trouble....”

Both Carl and Tom were stunned, darting uneasy looks at each other.

“I wanna go about my life without you hovering around...”

Tom brought his hand to his forehead and scrunched the skin together.

“You're handing it over?”

Jake plastered a defeated expression to his face. “Yeah.”

He flashed the lid off, showing them the briefest glint of the ‘diamond’ before Tom hissed at him to put the lid back on. The box was snatched from Jake’s grip, passed to Carl in the passenger seat.

“Good,” Tom said finally.

It had worked, they had been fooled. He waited for them to speed off into the distance but they didn’t.

“There, you got it. Now we all go about our lives and forget each other.”

Tom shook his head. “What the boss wants, the boss gets...”

“There, he’s got it-”

Carl hissed through his teeth, “That’s the thing; he doesn’t just want the diamond.”

“What does he want then?”

Both Carl and Tom glanced at each other before smirking. “He wants revenge on the guy who took it from him.”

“You got it.... you shot him in the head.”

Tom lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “Okay, he wants revenge on the second person to steal it.”

Before he could take a step away, Carl had a gun on him, he pointed it with a sympathetic expression though, unlike Tom who had bloodlust in his eyes.

“We’re going for a drive,” Tom growled, flicking his head for Jake to get in the car.

Jake raised his hands and slipped into the backseat obediently.

“Look, you got the diamond. We’re all winners, let me go yeah?”

Carl hummed sadly. “Wish I could, but that wouldn’t go down too well.”

“I stopped putting butter in the fridge...for you,” Jake blurted.

He smiled tightly in reply. “That was a nice touch, but it’s still a no.”

Tom started the engine, glaring at Carl as he did.

“Why is he still talking?”

Carl turned his attention back to Jake. “Take a real big breath, let it out slow.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

He did, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. The gun went off, his thigh stung and he cupped the wound. Not the gaping hole he expected, but a small dot of expanding blood.

“What the hell...”

He trailed off, swaying in the seat and collapsing on his side.

“Night night,” Carl chirped, and the world turned to black.

He woke with a shiver, whole body ice cold. He couldn’t see, scratchy material was over his eyes, but that was the least of his problems.

His hands were tied above his head, arms at full stretch and toes only just touching the floor. He was strung out, body straining and aching at the uncomfortable position.

He thought back to the car and Carl shooting him in the leg, not a bullet but a drug by the wooziness in his head.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

It was the woman. Jake recognised her snappy tone from before.

“What---where am I?”

“That’s not important, what’s going to happen next is…”

Jake tried to roll his shoulders but gave up. The air was cold in his lungs, uncomfortable in his throat. He pressed his lips together and breathed in and out through his nose to spare himself from the chill. It didn’t work. He was freezing, whole body trembling to stay warm. His skin was cold, but his muscles were on fire; the opposing sensations messed with his head.

The repetitive noise of a phone chirped. Jake cocked his head at the sound. It was to his right, and the clomping of heels headed towards it.

“He’s awake...yeah...yeah...we took his clothes off like you asked.”

Shit, he was naked, that was why he was so god-damn cold. He was hung up like a piece of meat-

“I’m in a meat cooler, aren’t I?”

Amber came back towards him, stopping at his side.

“Very good,” she whispered. “Hasn’t been used in years, but it’s dark and discreet.”

Amber’s heels stomped along the hard floor, getting fainter till they disappeared altogether. He yelled out for someone else. If he had to pick one of them he would choose Carl for company.

No one replied. He was left hanging, trembling from over exertion. He tilted his head side to side, trying to lift the blindfold from his face, but it wouldn’t budge.

Hung out like meat, he anticipated beating. Maybe a few broken ribs, bruises and he’d probably be walking with a limp for the foreseeable future. But he could cope with all that, if he got away and got that reward money.

“The Irony in feeling most alive when our hearts skip beats.”

Jake jerked, slipping on his tiptoes. The voice was deep, vibrated the marrow of his bones, made his heart jump to his throat. He regained his footing and waited for the voice to speak again.

“Is your heart skipping and tripping?”

The voice had the same vibrating effect, making him shudder. The hair on his nape rose, all along his arms too.

Jake frowned beneath his blindfold trying to remember what the voice had asked him. “Wh-what?”

“Your heart, is it skipping?”

Yes, was the answer, it was beating powerfully and fast, but hiccupping at odd intervals too. Jake jerked when a palm pressed over the flesh.

“Excitement overcomes your fear of death, is that right?”

He wanted to laugh, to wrinkle his nose, and deny what the man said, but it was true, he was scared. That emotion was present, but swamped under addicting excitement and anticipation.

“You’ve had the diamond all this time, why give it up now?”

Jake tilted his head to follow the footsteps round the room, the clomping of shoes, landing heavily on the floor. There was no rush to the pace; they were the slow plods of doom echoing around him. The man sounded like a giant the way he was walking, and the way he made Jake feel an inch tall.

“Why now?” The voice asked again.

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His head just spun with confusion, body quivered painfully.

“Was I not exciting enough for you Jake?”

The footsteps stopped, the man with the gravelly voice was standing in front of him. Jake could practically feel his breath on his naked body. Even with the blindfold blocking their eye contact, he still felt the need to duck his head away, not stare at the man head on.

“I panicked; I took it without thinking...”

He snapped his mouth shut at the creak of a cracking neck.

“I believe that, I do. Why return it now? Why not get the reward money instead?”

Jake shook his head. “You’d have come after me.”

“Does that scare you?”

“Yes.”

“You're scared, I can see it. But your body reacts strangely to fear, you love the feeling.”

Silence lingered, Jake even held his breath just to hear the sound of the other man in the room. There were no small puffs of breath, no whistling of air going through his nostrils. He had vanished.

“H-hello?”

The shoes started again and Jake flinched at the sound, breath coming out in rasping bursts. The footsteps paused again and the deafening silence came back in full force. Jake was twitching, whether it was from the cold, overstretched muscles or anticipation, he wasn’t sure.

“What-what are you going to do with me...kill me?”

The man sighed in reply, slow and disappointed.

“My life is predictable, this deal, that deal, drugs, people, issues to sort out, stuff to steal, stuff to sell on...it’s all predictable. Even Ian, as clever as he thought he was, was predictable. I knew he would betray me, had a car ready to chase him down. He barely made it three miles before I took him out.”

The footsteps stopped, directly in front of where Jake hung.

“But I didn’t predict you...”

Jake gaped at the tickle to his flesh, the ghost of a hand travelling up his chest to the base of his neck. A finger tapped once on the hollow of his throat, and then the contact vanished.

“You have been an abnormality, a cure to my mind-numbing boredom. I could not predict you, and that, that makes me interested. Very interested...in you.”

“Look, you got the diamond back now. This is over.”

The man didn’t reply, his feet tapped against the hard floor.

Jake tried to hide his sob with a snort, tried to box his shoulders up to look unbothered.

“S’like the movies, right? You’re gonna cut of my fingers...my thumbs.”

He could do that, it would hurt like a bitch, but Jake could take it as long as he escaped and returned the diamond. Hell, the man could cut off his whole arm and he’d be able to buy himself another one.

“I can’t reach your hands at the moment; there are other far more important assets on display...”

Jake crossed his legs, shielding his body from the other man as much as he could. He could cope without a finger, a thumb, but not without what dangled between his legs.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

He could sense the man leaned closer, leaving only inches between them. Jake bit down on his lip. The adrenaline in his body made him tremble at the implication.

The heat radiating from the man disappeared. Jake listened intently, his own breathing coming out in rushes, deafening him to the sounds in the room.

There was a rustling of clothes, the clunk of something metal hitting the hard floor. Two more thumps and the silence returned.

“’m sorry okay...just don’t”

“Don’t what?”

He sounded pathetic, knew he did. “Don’t hurt me.”

“You like the touch of a woman?”

Jake didn’t answer, threw his head back and pressed his lips firmly not to sob, not to beg. His addiction wasn’t worth losing his manhood.

“Let me go.”

Before he could blabber out more pointless apologies, his breath was stolen from his lungs. His back was on fire, warm flesh pressing against him, covering him, consuming him.

He leaned back with a gasped breath, needing that heat. It was the man’s chest, and he tilted himself to enjoy the soothing temperature.

“I’m gonna give you a choice. I can let you go right now...or you stay like this and I get your heart thumping harder, get that adrenaline you love filling your veins.”

Jake squeaked, tried to wiggle forward on his tiptoes. It was too much effort on his straining body and he sagged back to the man’s chest.

Hands were squeezing into his hips, holding him still so he didn’t sway. He was caught in an odd embrace. When arms wound around his chest, he hated that he liked it, his whole body felt relaxed at the contact. He gasped desperately, pushing his body into the hold.

“What’s it gunna be, Jake? Will you give me your body? I know you’ve thought about it.”

Hands mapped Jake’s chest, leaving trails of fire in their wake, reviving his frozen skin. He was drunk on the tingling, the sensation of his body coming alive.

The man sighed harshly. “Okay, I’ll let you go.”

“Wait!”

Jake swallowed painfully, shivering as one hand travelled lower. He was hard, didn’t know at what point he had become so, but the man took hold of him.

“Can I make you come alive Jake?”

The hand on him moved, from the base to tip and back down again.

“Yes,” Jake breathed, “please god, my body’s yours.”

Lips skipped along his shoulders, making his breath hitch and catch, and when teeth nipped the back of his neck, he shuddered, and groaned at the increasing rush.

The hand was moving fast on him, getting more slippery as he grew harder and wetter.

“But...I’m not gay—I don’t think.”

Even to his own ears, it sounded like a desperate pant.

“Try telling your cock that.”

“I don’t understand.”

He was half speaking to the guy touching him, and half to himself. He liked women and yet it felt so good to be touched, he never gave into those fantasies of his youth, and never pursued them afterwards.

Stood on his tiptoes, he still tried to flex his hips at the contact, hump into the hand cupped around him. His arms ached fiercely, his calves were burning from the pull, but that pain was succumbing to pleasure. The hand wrapped around him, the lips and teeth at his neck and the other hand cupping his chest, pinching at a nipple. He didn’t recognise the moans and groans in the room as his own. He was a puppet to pleasure and all his strings were being played by the man.

“Every time you’re touched by a woman, you’ll remember this.”

Jake tipped his head back, turning towards the voice of the man.

“You’ll remember how I completely owned your body like no one else can...”

The hand running up his length stopped, and if Jake had more of his feet on the floor, he would’ve stomped with frustration. He’d been denied, right at the end.

He flinched out of his wave of self-pity when fingers trailed down his spine. He clenched up when he knew where they were planning on stopping.

“No one teased you here before?”

Jake shook his head, shifting away from the hand at his back, but it was useless. He dangled helplessly for the man to play with and he had agreed to it, wanted it beneath his restraining nerves.

As much as he tensed, he couldn’t stop the man’s hands from prying him apart, couldn’t stop the finger than pressed on the outside, till his body popped and let it in.

The stretch was slow, it burned, and made the flesh of his insides feel raw and he kept clenching against it, not wanting the man touching him in that area, but at the same time needing him to.

“You tense like that and it’ll hurt.”

“Wait. I’m not sure.”

The man shushed him. “Trust me, Jake. It will feel great when you give up the pretence.”

The finger vanished, and when it came back it was wet, slick as it pushed inside. It was joined by another, widening in his body and fighting against his resisting walls. Each time the fingers were removed, Jake tensed his ass checks, still able to feel the cool liquid the man had rubbed inside.

“Relax. It won’t hurt if you relax, it will feel good.”

“I don’t want it to feel good. It shouldn’t.”

“Oh, but it does. Don’t deny yourself.”

Jake groaned, and his muscles loosened in defeat. He couldn’t keep constricting his hole like that when his whole body was over stimulated and aching.

He whimpered, letting those fingers move in him freely, grow bolder and push harder, further.

It felt odd, not uncomfortable once he stopped tensing, but not pleasurable either, until the moment Jake’s knees weakened and he released a wrecked groan.

That felt different, good different, and it happened again. Over and over he was touched till he was a shaking mess, till words couldn’t form in his mind, let alone come out of his mouth.

He felt hot, tingly at the base of his spine, sensitive to the point he thought he was about to orgasm, not from his cock but from somewhere deep inside his soul.

“Fuck yes!” He choked the words, so wrong for him to cry out because of a man instead of a woman.

He didn’t think it was possible to come like that, with fingers shoved inside him moving and curling, but he came close, was about to give in completely to the sensation but everything stopped.

“Not yet,” said the voice.

It tickled the edge of his ear, but sounded so far away, buried under the sound of his thumping heart and rushing blood.

“Whole body hurts, right?”

Jake nodded desperately. Everything hurt, but the worst was the aching for release, the need to come.

“Ye-yes...”

The heat at his back disappeared. He whined, whipped his head back to seek it out again, but the man had gone, had moved further than Jake could swing.

“I could leave you like this...”

Jake shook his head, bit into the flesh of his bicep not to sob and beg. He tracked the voice. It stopped in front of him. The heat of the skin was radiating again, and he moved towards it like a plant sought out the sun.

The man grabbed onto Jake’s thighs, lifted them and pulled them round his body. That was almost enough for Jake to release all over him. The man had taken his weight, his legs and arms were being given a break by the man holding him. He didn’t even care that his bare legs were wrapped around another man’s waist.

Huge hands were cupping him under his thighs, holding him up and when they started to rise, Jake’s head spun.

The guy was lifting him up, rather than dangling from the rope bound round his hands, Jake had to grip onto it, keep his back straight as the man lifted him higher.

His legs were no longer wrapped around the man’s waist, but they were on his shoulders, dangling over, meaning Jake’s cock was right in the guy's face.

“What are you-”

His words died the instant a wet sensation lapped at his cock. It took some positioning, but once Jake’s cock was in the man’s mouth, it was clear he wasn’t going to let it go; he was planning on sucking it dry. The heat of the mouth didn’t surprise him, but the softness did. There was the scratch of facial hair between his legs, but the mouth, the flesh inside was silk-like, the tongue was tentative and probing. His every moan, every oversensitive twitch and shudder was being catalogued, the actions that caused them repeated until Jake couldn’t think straight, could only feel. And it felt so good, mind-blowingly so.

One hand pressed at his lower back, keeping him balanced, and the other found and fondled his hole, delving inside with no resistance. The tongue was lashing his cock, fingers were finding that sweet spot inside his body. It was inevitable, as much as he tried to hold off his orgasm, he couldn’t.

Too much, it was all too much, and when the moment arrived he could only squeak, before gulping desperately for air as the orgasm slammed into him.

He came harder than he ever had; his orgasm didn’t relent with the fingers still plucking his insides. It was the longest drawn out orgasm of his life, and for a few glorious seconds he blacked out to a wave of intense ecstasy.

Then the hands vanished, the man moved away and Jake barely had time to register what was happening before gravity yanked him back down with a jolt. The pain exploded in his arms, red hot and angry. He knew his shoulders had been close to dislocation before he regained his footing.

His head was spinning, everything felt detached and far away. His arms were released, and he dropped to the floor, too exhausted to move, he didn’t even have enough energy to attack the blindfold round his head. Heat flooded into his limbs, blood reviving them back to a comfortable state. The ache in his shoulder burned and he waited for the intensity to lessen.

He laid panting, throat hoarse and crackly. His cock and his insides still fluttered with waves of sensitivity.

“Good boy,” the voice said.

The man was standing over him. Jake could feel a leg either side of his torso. Another sound grew louder, the slide of wet flesh above him, and then spurts landed on his face, on his cheek and chin.

He didn’t have the energy to wipe it off; it ran down his cheek, catching on his top lip before dripping into his mouth.

That was his first taste of him, the first taste of any man and it didn’t turn his stomach like he thought it would. It danced on his tongue. He rubbed it on the top of his mouth, savouring the salty flavour.

“We’re done.”

With the footsteps receding, Jake tried to understand what had happened. He had never come apart like that before, didn’t know he could till he was a quaking mess on the floor unable to stand.

No girl would be able to give him head without him thinking of that. He wouldn’t be able to stroke himself at night without remembering the hands on his body, teeth on his neck. The raw power and strength of the faceless man.

“Games up, Jake,” the man said, and a door clicked somewhere far away.

Jake yanked the blindfold from his eyes, used it to wipe the drying come off his face. The man was wrong, he hadn’t won whatever game they were playing. They were definitely not done. It was time to run, for the man to follow.

Chapter 5

Once Jake had full sensation back in his body, he sat up. The room was empty, dark and so cold he still trembled. Getting to his feet was hard. The room swayed, and he staggered across the concrete like a drunk, hoping his clothes were nearby.

They weren’t. Of course the man wasn’t going to let him have his clothes. It left him two options: stumble home as naked as the day he was born, or wrap himself in one of the abandoned meat bags. He didn’t fancy getting arrested for nudity so he hugged one of the bags around his body, limping his way out.

He ached; he daren’t try to lift his arms over his head, and his neck was stuck bowing forward. He hurt, but with the hurt came other sensations, ones he tried not to think about. He did not think about his still tingling cock, and he did not think about his fondled hole and the warmth of the man’s flesh on his.

He recognised the street, which was at least one good thing, but he knew it was a long walk back to his flat. The whole trudge he tried not to think about what had happened, tried to block out how good it being a toy to pain and pleasure and how hollow he chest seemed when he heard the man walking away.

“Hey buddy, rough night?”

Jake glared at the man leaning from his car. He was dressed in a stinking meat bag and he looked like shit, rough was an understatement.

“Good night, actually,” he said completely deadpan, his eyes burning holes into the man’s head.

“Was gonna offer you a ride.”

Jake eyed up the car; the man was looking at him with unconcealed pity. “You haven’t stolen anything from your boss?”

The man hummed. “Erm no. Not really. Pens from the office but that’s ‘bout it.”

“You’re not some kind of gangster?”

Again, the man hummed. “Not as far as I know.”

The cynical part of his brain told him it was a trick, another one of the man’s men, but he looked like a normal guy, shaved head, and no scars on his hands. There wasn’t the weird atmosphere around him like there was with Tony and Carl.

Jake nodded. “Count me in.”

He tugged the handle and climbed into the back.

“No offense, but can you wind your window down? You really do stink.”

Jake sniffed the air around himself before sighing. “Yeah, I see your point.”

They drove to the apartment in silence.

He couldn’t fully relax, didn’t trust this man completely. He drove Jake home even though it was the opposite direction he’d been travelling. Who does that?

“I don’t have money,” Jake blurted.

“I would say you’ve got nuffing at all...”

“Why you helping me?”

He flicked a glance in the mirror. “You’re clearly high...coming down from something, can’t leave ya on the street.”

“I’m not a junkie.”

“That’s what they all say.”

He was a junkie, an adrenaline one, but he hadn’t shot up in an alley and had his clothes stripped. Oh wait...he kinda had...

Once at the flats, Jake leaned forward between the seats.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Then man frowned. “Why do you need to know?”

Jake shrugged. “Case I get rich one day and I wanna thank you for the ride.”

“That’s not gonna happen. One of us gets rich, it ain’t gonna be you.”

Jake pressed his lips in a hard line before climbing from the car. He bowed his head in thanks even though inside he wanted to curse like hell. In a few days his face would be plastered all over the news. The man would soon regret not giving up his name for a cut of the reward money.

Home, sanctuary. It was a hell hole, but his hell hole and he galloped the stairs to get inside. The bag was shoved straight in the trash, but the smell had clung to his skin, rolled his stomach and made his throat spasm.

He stubbed his toe in his hurry to reach the shower. It throbbed but the pain was secondary to the need to wash. Not only did he want the smell of rotten meat gone but he needed to rid himself of the man too. Along with the putrid smell of the bag, he’d been breathing that man’s scent, bitter like rich tobacco. He could still feel where his lips had pressed and his fingers had trailed; Jake needed it gone. Needed to forget.

He washed every inch of himself, used the whole bottle of shower gel till he could only smell was artificial flowers. He hummed as loud as he could when he cleaned between his cheeks, distracting himself with noise so he wouldn’t register why he was tender there. He soothed the skin, shaking his head in anger when he got hard. His body was betraying him; it had betrayed him in the cooler and was doing so again in the shower. The small wound of his leg from Carl had purpled. When he circled his finger on the flesh it ached like an ordinary bruise.

Anger gave way to niggling despair, and he zoned out, staring down at himself.

The water beat down on his back, loosening his coiled shoulders and neck. It was hot; he could see it was hot from the steam clouding the cubical, could see it was hot from his feet glowing red raw, knew it was hot from the dial behind him being at maximum, but he couldn’t feel it. He felt cold, chilled to the bone and he shivered even though near-enough lava was dripping on his back.

He knew what an adrenaline drop felt like, but this was different. He sunk down into the base of the shower and wrapped his arms round his knees, arousal depleting every second that passed.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered to himself, trying to understand the sudden hollowness, the jitteriness in his body. It was horrible, and he had no clue how to stop it, hadn’t experienced it before.

Jake reached up and twisted the dial to off. He carried on sitting in the base of the shower as the steam faded around him. He couldn’t work out what he felt, what the hell this new emotion was. He kept thinking back to the man. Jake’s feelings were because of him. He felt vulnerable, ashamed, guilty, but it didn’t make sense why he felt this way now, instead of when it was happening.

He was only aware he was crying when he tasted tears at the edge of his lips. Once he realised he laughed hysterically, palming his face to be rid of them. Jake continued to blubber in the shower, laughing manically at odd intervals. He felt drunk, sad, giddy, and anxious all in one and his head was spinning trying to adjust to the odd miss-match.

He needed to focus, needed to distract himself from whatever emotional battle was raging in his head. There was no clear winner; it was a mess, he was a mess.

Finally, Jake lifted his head, shoulder barged his way up the tiles to stand in the shower. The diamond, he still had it. He had been used like a toy, and the man thought he’d won but Jake was one step ahead.

He had been sitting in the shower so long he didn’t need to dry himself; even his hair had stopped dripping. He rushed into the bedroom, fanning his hands around his drawers to find some underwear. He had bought some new ones, but apparently they had been taken while he was captive in the meat cooler.

“Fine.” He huffed at no one, kicking his legs into his joggers and pulling on a t-shirt. Once he’d returned the diamond, he’d buy endless new underwear.

He had wasted time; he needed to get across the other side of the city to the museum. The diamond was wrapped in cotton wool, placed in a cufflinks box. He tucked it in his jacket's inner pocket and rushed from the flat.

The museum was still open, had a steady stream or tourists going in and out. Jake walked up to the counter and removed the box from its hiding place, flicking a look over his shoulder to be sure no one had followed him.

“You're missing a diamond, right?” he said.

The woman peered at him through the top of her glasses. “Yes.”

“I’ve got it.”

He opened the box and her sceptical expression switched into one of wonder. The glasses were pushed up the brow of her nose and she checked the diamond intently.

“A lot of people have tried giving us fakes.”

“I can assure you it’s no fake.”

She hummed as she tilted the box, “it doesn’t look fake, but I’ll need it to be verified. I will have to make a few calls.”

Jake had thought it would be as simple as walking in with the diamond, walking out again with a bag of cash, but it wasn’t that easy. He was there long after closing time, waiting while the staff and experts analysed the diamond.

“It’s legit.”

Those words had Jake perking up in his seat. “Told you so.”

The woman clapped her hands together. “I’ll phone the collector right away.”

“Erm...there was something about reward money...”

She held her hand up for him to stop. “The collector’s offering the reward, not the museum. I’ll phone him right now.”

Jake dropped his head into his palms, another half an hour went by and his stomach growled impatiently. He was hungry and the museum reception didn’t even have a vending machine.

The woman approached with a bit of paper, handing it over with a smile.

“Here’s the address. He’ll give you a cheque when you get there.”

Jake resisted the urge to scrunch the note into a ball. He had been waiting hours and still hadn’t claimed his winnings.

Chapter 6

It was half eleven at night, probably an unreasonable time to ask for his reward money, but he pressed the intercom button anyway.

The street was full of looming properties, at least four stories high, clear cut angles and huge windows. It was far away from the road he lived down, both in distance and in status. He was eyed with curiosity as he waited, him in a scruffy Jacket and baggy joggers and everyone else in expensive suits. He was sure one of them got their phone out to call the police on him. He did look a bit suspicious standing in front of a house continually prodding a button.

Jake was about to give up. He had spent all his money on the taxi and knew he had a long walk home. He wanted to make the journey before the pubs called last order and the masses of drunks descended on the streets.

“Nice to see you again, Jake.”

It wasn’t even the voice that told him it was that man pressed at his back, it was the prickle at his neck, the way his heart galloped into his throat and the shivers that ran down to his toes and made them curl.

He went to turn, but a hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing down to the bone.

“No.”

The man reached over Jake's other shoulder, fingers dancing on the keypad as he pressed in the code. He finally had a good look at the tattoos on the man, there were dark lines and on closer inspection he realised they were musical notes.

The door clicked open and the man applied pressure to Jake’s shoulder, trying to ease him into the building. It was a bad idea, Jake knew it and he resisted, but the man kept pushing.

“Want your reward, right?”

“No... not anymore.”

A laugh tickled the hair at the back of Jake’s neck and he tried to mask his shiver with a shuffle.

“Oh, I think you deserve it.”

Jake opened his mouth to argue but the man’s arms moved lightning fast. The one on his shoulder gripped the back of his head and the one reaching for the door tightened under his throat.

He didn’t even have time to struggle against the hold, just found his body weakening and his limbs sagging into the man's grip.

“Shush Jake, don’t make a scene.”

The last thing Jake saw was the dark sky stretching a hand out for him, concealing him in endless black.

Sound was the first thing that came back to him. Not the noises of his body, but the droning hum of classical music. As more awareness came, the music sharpened, still classical in nature but familiar, though he couldn’t say why. Sensation returned slowly. He was floating on a soft cloud, even sighed blissfully as he pushed back into it. The smell of wood polish and expensive aftershave was thick in the air. Definitely not the scent of his home or Sam’s that smelled like Old Spice. Jake was somewhere new.

When he tried to move his hands they jolted, not cooperating with what he wanted them to do. He tilted his head up towards his straining arms and battled to open his heavy lids. Cuffs were around his wrists, and they were attached by a short chain to a headboard.

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

Jake startled, attention snapping down the bed towards the voice.

That gravelly deep voice, the faceless man was there, no longer hiding himself but sitting at the end of the bed watching. He wasn’t anything like Jake expected. He had dark, sleek hair with a sprinkling of grey in his trimmed beard. The green eyes on Jake analysed him, their cloudiness adding to the mystery of the man. Jake avoided looking at the man's lips, if he looked there he’d think about the last time they’d been in a room together...those lips around his-

He shook his head, flinging the thought from his mind. He needed to focus, think of a way out of the situation. The man waited patiently, letting Jake get familiar with the sight in front of him.

He was huge and shirtless. His muscles were stacked with defined lines, his biceps bulged without him straining. Even more jaw dropping than the obvious strength was the tattoo that ran from his chest, curling round his arm to the back of his hands. The lines Jake had seen were swirling notes, the closer to his heart, the bigger the notes. The score of a music sheet. It was beautiful the way the music danced on his skin, shapes shadowed with grey so they stood out, flowing from his heart.

“I’m Maddox. Nice to meet you.”

Jake shifted his focus to Maddox’s coaxing face.

“Am I not what you expected?”

“No,” Jake blurted before he could help it.

Maddox cocked his head and stared through him. The coldness to the expression made Jake shiver. Maddox’s distinctive irises consumed him. The dark green was unforgiving, but the more Jake stared the more he saw they were marbled with softer pigments.

“Guess I should say thanks for returning my diamond...”

Another unblinking glare was shot his way and Jake submissively shifted his eyes to avoid it. They were mesmerising, almost hypnotic. If it was hypnosis, he didn’t want to get caught up in it. He was sure if he started too long at those intense eyes, his heart would stop.

“You own the collection at the museum...” Jake muttered with bitterness.

“Indeed.”

“What-what are you going to do with me?” Jake asked, still avoiding eye contact.

There was a huff from Maddox. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Maddox leaned over the bed, reaching for something on the floor.

Jake twisted his wrists but winced at the burn. He couldn’t get out of them. He pressed his teeth and glared up at the cuffs and chain around his wrists, these weren’t fancy dress accessories, but the real deal. Jake gave up and moved his attention back to the man at the end of the bed. His heart skipped a beat or three when he saw what Maddox was holding. Maddox twirled the blade in his hands, watching the sharp edge with a fascination.

“’m sorry, okay.”

His words sounded desperate, but Jake didn’t care.

“Food,” Maddox announced, pulling an apple from his trouser pocket.

Jake’s verging heart attack stopped in its tracks and his heart settled down again.

“Wha?” He gaped, watching as Maddox peeled it absentmindedly with the blade.

Jake tensed when Maddox shifted further up the bed. His thick thighs straddled Jake’s body and he sat down on top, crotch to crotch. A pillow was arranged behind Jake’s head so he was tilting slightly forward. He didn’t protest, he just arranged himself the way Maddox wanted him.

“You haven’t eaten all day. It’s been a busy night for you. Here have a slice.”

Jake pressed his mouth together firmly, not accepting the slice of apple. Maddox waited patiently with it pressed to his lip using his evil stare. As if entranced by it, Jake gave in and opened his mouth, chewing the apple with desperation. His stomach approved and before he could process what was happening Maddox fed the whole apple to him bit by bit, watching with laser intensity. The classical music filled the silence. Jake found himself chewing in time to the song, withholding his crunches for the clashing musical parts.

“Sweet, isn’t it?”

Jake nodded his head as much as he could tied to the bed and Maddox seemed satisfied with his response.

“Same choice as before Jake. I can let you go, right now...or I excite your mind and body.”

His thoughts drifted to the meat cooler, the lips and hands all over him. He didn’t know whether he was ready to experience that again.

“What about the reward money?”

Maddox shook his head with a chuckle. “After you humiliated my men, no chance. This is your reward if you choose to take it. Do you want me to play with your body again?”

Jake shuffled on the bed, both body and heart screaming yes, but his brain told him to hold back, not seem too eager.

Maddox raised an eyebrow; he delved into his trouser pockets and retrieved a key. “Okay-”

“Wait!”

The key hovered in his face. Maddox rubbed the metal fondly.

“What’s your answer then?”

Jake chomped down on his lip before releasing the flesh with a wet pop. “I’m yours...”

The key rung out when it hit the floor. Maddox smiled toothily at Jake strapped to the bed.

“Got something else to give you some energy first.”

Maddox leaned over the bed, pulling a yogurt pot into view. He twirled it in his hands, lips bunched as he studied the flavour.

“It’s vanilla.” He sighed dramatically and hit his palm to his head. “Thing is...I forgot a spoon, didn’t I? Oh well.”

He settled on top of Jake again, shifting his pelvis as he got comfortable. It was the first time Jake looked down at where their bodies joined and his eyes bugged at the huge bulge in Maddox’s trousers.

The lid of the yogurt was held to his lips. “Lick it.”

He did, tentatively, eyes locking on Maddox’s mossy ones as he did. His body reacted. He rubbed his feet together to distract himself, moving his hands in the restraints so they hurt just to stop himself from getting aroused, but it didn’t work. He was licking a lid, it shouldn’t have been arousing. He was at Maddox’s mercy, it should have been humiliating.

Maddox didn’t seem to notice Jake’s inner and outer conflict, only plunged his finger into the yogurt pot and scooped some out. He held it to Jake’s lips, and they opened automatically, allowing Maddox’s finger inside. Jake lashed his tongue at the digit, cleaning it of yogurt. Maddox hummed and Jake found himself doing the same.

“Think you might’ve missed some, make sure you get it all off, yeah?”

He suckled at the finger. There was definitely no more yogurt left and he had no idea why he continued to suck the length of the digit in his mouth. Maddox’s eyes had darkened, more terrifying than when they were unreadable; these were ruthless and hungry.

Jake ate the whole yogurt that way, growing more enthusiastic about sucking Maddox’s fingers. Maddox tried two fingers, then three. Jake dribbled and Maddox ducked down, cleaned where it leaked with a long swipe of his tongue.

Jake couldn’t help himself. He moaned at the contact, tilting his head to follow Maddox’s tongue. Maddox was close enough to smell and Jake breathed him in deep, relishing in the smell of expensive aftershave and tobacco, praying it stayed on his skin for hours, days even.

There was no denying his arousal. He was trying not to rut against Maddox but his body was restless, shifting against the weight holding him to the bed.

Maddox showed him the yogurt. “All gone. Got one last thing for you to eat though.”

Jake was so far gone he didn’t hear the ping of Maddox’s trousers, only stared at the light above his head and groaned in frustration. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy it this much.

“Open up. You’ve been so good so far.”

He did as Maddox told him, still not fully aware of what was happening, until the moment Maddox’s cock filled his mouth and he jerked back to attention. He turned his head, but Maddox gripped onto his chin. He thought about biting but Maddox guessed the thought crossed his mind.

“Don’t even think about it,” rumbled through Maddox’s lips, and then his voice softened. “Just do what you did with the yogurt.”

Maddox’s fingers were roaming Jake's face, touching the worried lines of his forehead, soothing them with electric touches. He rolled his tongue against Maddox’s cock, tracing the seam with his tip pointed.

Maddox groaned loudly, and the sound rumbled through his body into Jake’s, making his cock jolt with excitement. Before creeping doubt could surface again, Jake started doing what Maddox told him, licking the yogurt, sucking it off and swallowing it down. Except it wasn’t sweet, but tangy, not unpleasant in taste, but different. The more Maddox moaned and groaned, the more Jake loved it. He couldn’t get enough of the musky flavour, or making Maddox feel good. He lapped and sucked like a starved dog, whimpering for more and eager to please in case the treat was taken away.

“Keep going.” Maddox mumbled and Jake did. He sucked quick and firm, like he was pulling milkshake through a straw until Maddox’s thighs started to quake erratically.

Maddox was thrusting into him, fucking into his face and Jake adjusted, spurring Maddox to completion. He came with a howl, one hand yanking fiercely in Jake’s hair and the other cradling his chin gently.

The amount of come was hard to swallow, but Jake did, eating what Maddox gave him as if he was starved until only the lingering taste stayed in his mouth, the musky flavour clinging to his cheeks for his tongue to swipe at.

“Good...so good Jake.”

He shouldn’t have felt good, his heart shouldn’t have soared at the praise and his cock shouldn’t have jolted in anticipation, but it did.

Maddox climbed off the bed, removing his trousers and boxers without breaking eye contact. Jake saw him in his entirety. His body was magnificent, muscles more pronounced each time he breathed in. His cock was still hard, intimidating in size as it stood to attention. Jake liked women, but his joggers were damp from his leaking arousal. The tops of his thighs were damp and if his cock had watered at Maddox in his mouth. Before Jake had ever seen him, Maddox turned him on, but now he could look at the man that had touched him, sucked him off a day ago and see how magnificent he was in stature.

Maddox went for Jake’s joggers, gripping the top and yanking them down. He grumbled in approval. No underwear was beneath and the fabric was soaked through from Jake's excitement.

Maddox grabbed the bottom of Jake’s t-shirt and tugged. There was no way he could pull it over Jake’s head with his bound hands, so he ripped it, from the bottom of the t-shirt all the way to the neck, opening the flaps to reveal Jake’s chest. There was another grumble of approval and hands roamed the expanse of flesh, hot and firm on his body. God, he needed Maddox to touch him. That mouth, those hands, even if his leg brushed against his cock that would be more than welcome. He ached with the need to come.

It wasn’t going to take much, he knew it and Maddox’s gloating face said he knew it too, but blowing on the tip of his needy cock was humiliating as hell, more so when he felt the happy tingles and knew he was a goner. That was the way Maddox chose to push him over the edge.

There was pressure on his perineum, the heel of Maddox’s hand bearing down, the uncomfortable pressure wasn’t enough to stop his orgasm and he gasped with it, shaking and sensitive while he was overcome with waves of pressure. His cock was tingling and spent but it felt odd, different. When he had enough composure, he looked down at himself, at Maddox’s dark eyes by his crotch.

He hadn’t come, nothing had shot from his body and his brow furrowed in confusion; he'd definitely orgasmed. One swipe of Maddox’s tongue confirmed it when he danced around to avoid stimulation on the over-sensitive head.

“What the hell?” he breathed.

Maddox didn’t answer, only ducked down and licked at him again. He jerked out of the way but Maddox was relentless with his tongue and the oversensitivity faded. The heel of Maddox’s hand was still pressing hard, but the fingers were moving too, rubbing at his hole but not going inside.

“I’m gunna blow you....” purred his way.

Jake spluttered a laugh. “Like a trumpet?” he blurted, unable to help it when the classical music continued to dance through the room.

“Hmm, a trumpet....”

Maddox rested his lips on the head of Jake’s cock, mouth slightly parted. He blew gently and his vibrating lips had Jake breathless, near tortured sounds escaped his mouth.

“Shit—Maddox-”

It wasn’t enough. He needed more than the gentle vibrations. He wanted to be in that mouth again.

“Please Maddox....”

“Not like a trumpet then. How about a French horn?”

Maddox encased Jake in his warm mouth and hummed long and hard. The tremors had Jake’s feet going jittery, his thighs wobbling as if they were being vibrated, not his cock.

The pressure eased and Jake gasped desperately.

There was a chuckle from below and then he was being sucked off mercilessly. Maddox groaned as he did so and Jake was pretty certain he was losing his mind with it. Too much was happening and he couldn’t focus, lost in a dizzying pleasure. His heart thumped, the adrenaline flooded his veins with endorphins and he got higher and higher, riding the thrilling waves into oblivion.

The orgasm built. He tingled and buzzed and Maddox eased him over the edge again. The orgasm stole his breath, stopped his heart for a few beats and he gasped at the light above his head, sure he was about to pass out. His cock was still encased in Maddox’s soft mouth. He wasn’t sucking or moving his tongue, just holding him in the heat of his mouth.

“Fuck--”

He hadn’t come again; the heel of Maddox’s hand was still stopping him, pushing him so hard that it couldn’t escape. He ached with the need to, two lots of come banking in his body, needing to escape.

“Please, please Maddox.”

His voice was wrecked to his own ears. He could barely hear it above his drumming heart and his gasping breaths, but he kept repeating it, hoping Maddox would take pity on him.

The fingers that had been circling breeched his body, and he gasped, jumping his lower back from the bed. It was only the tips of his fingers but the penetration was too much, the heel still pressing the stretch of skin between the two sensitive areas. Tears of need stung in Jake’s eyes and he sobbed Maddox’s name over and over in a voice that was alien to him.

“Shhh Jake, has to be at the right part of the symphony.”

Jake sobbed pathetically, his watering eyes watched as Maddox’s gloating face dipped down on his body once again.

He was being sucked, played with on the inside and out and he panted and pleaded. Maddox only needed to flick and fondle the ring of flesh and the third orgasm became unstoppable.

“Now.”

This time Maddox removed the pressure of his hand, let Jake convulse all over himself with no control of where it went. The orchestra of the track clashed together for the big finale and fell silent. Jake took over with his mantras of ‘oh god’ uttered to the ceiling.

Three lots of come spurting out at once, tingling his oversensitive cock as it did. Messy was an understatement. He was covered in come, hot come that Maddox leaned down to lick and hum his approval at.

Dazed and relaxed, the waves of pleasure continued to wash over Jake, pushing him down under a sea of bliss. It didn’t feel like drowning, though. It was warm and tingly, rushing to his brain. It was better than the adrenaline hits he so desperately craved; it was laughable to even compare that flutter to this onslaught.

Jake vaguely remembered Maddox praising him, the snap of a lid opening and a squirt from a bottle.

“Now I’m gunna fuck you, that okay?”

He nodded in reply, but it wasn’t enough. Maddox waited for a verbal reply and Jake managed a detached sounding, “Yes.”

He didn’t have time to worry or care, happily blissed out as Maddox stretched him open. He took his time, enough for the tense ring to relax. The bottle continued to squirt in the silence, each time Jake registered it, he didn’t have to wait long before fingers were easing his body open again.

Maddox gently glided into Jake’s unresisting body. He paused to gauge a reaction, only continuing when Jake flashed him a dazed smile. Jake’s body was an instrument to be played, and he trusted Maddox to do it right, to get the most out of him. An adrenaline rush couldn’t touch this feeling, couldn’t even come close, Jake didn’t know what it was, he just felt so damn good. Floating and light and when Maddox brushed against the hollow place inside, when he filled it up it felt even better; he felt drunk with it and dizzy. Never scared though, he wasn’t afraid. The only emotions and sensations were good, so fucking good. It was a pleasure awakening and welcomed by Jake’s body and mind.

“My dirty boy,” Maddox purred.

Jake lay back, closing his eyes, letting Maddox do what he wanted with him.

He soared high for twenty minutes after, euphoric before a chill ran up his spine and he dropped, cool air whistling past his ears as he did. He was cold again and jittery and his skin shuddered with dread.

His eyes snapped open, and he darted looks around the empty room, still naked, still tied to the bed, but Maddox was gone.

Jake swallowed the rising panic. He should be happy Maddox hadn’t hurt him, but somehow being abandoned after what had happened between them was worse.

“Maddox?”

It came out a desperate croak and the Jake of a few weeks ago would’ve died of embarrassment but he didn’t care. He needed Maddox to be there after and he wasn’t.

Maddox appeared from a door, stark naked and with the indifferent expression back on his face. Jake verged some kind of break down and Maddox just took a step forward and continued to glare.

He stared intently into one of Jake’s eyes before jumping his attention to the other, analysing Jake’s sudden change in well-being. The top of his nose dented with a curious expression, it deepened into a concerned one.

Jake’s arms were full on trembling. He hoped Maddox thought it was because of straining muscles, but he knew better. It was that weird feeling he'd had in his shower. The one where he didn’t know how to think or feel, he just needed something to make the odd war of emotions stop.

Maddox snapped out of his paralysed state and stumbled forward to get to the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress and pressing his palm firmly on Jake’s chest.

“Breathe...”

Jake hadn’t realised he’d stopped, but he gasped for air at Maddox’s command. The detached hum in his head faded as he gulped it down.

“I’m gunna unlock your hands. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He tried to nod, but his body wasn’t responding to his wishes. Maddox leaned over him, imposing chest still bare and on show above Jake’s face. The cuffs fell, his arms were free and without any thought he threw them around Maddox and grabbed on to him.

It was possibly the world's most awkward hug, Jake clinging on and Maddox doing nothing but letting Jake press close. It was humiliating and degrading but he couldn’t stop.

“Was reaching for my phone,” he muttered to Maddox’s neck. To top it all off, he made himself sound like an utter idiot too. He didn’t have a clue where his damn phone was.

“I’m not your phone, Jake.”

Jake hissed in his shoulder, willing his arms to release their death hold but they wouldn’t give Maddox up.

“You got in the way,” Jake blurted, flushing red in further embarrassment.

“Oh,” Maddox replied coolly. “I’ll just move so you can get it.”

Maddox shuffled down the bed but Jake went with him, clinging desperately. He didn’t even know where his stupid phone was, but he was certain it wasn’t attached to Maddox’s back.

“Did you feel like this last time?”

Maddox’s voice grumbled into his ear but Jake wanted to block it out, not engage in the taunting. He was being stupid. It was one thing feeling like this alone in the shower but another when he had strapped himself to Maddox’s chest.

“Like what! I’m fine, absolutely fine.”

Maddox huffed. The air tickled Jake’s neck, a warm current over his freezing body.

“You’re shaking.”

He gritted his teeth with a snort. He knew he was shaking, couldn’t stop for some unknown reason, but he’d rather Maddox just ignore his weirdness than draw attention to it.

“You’ve had ample time to try to escape and you haven’t.”

It was certainty on his to-do list, but he couldn’t complete the task until whatever this was had passed.

“And you're hugging me.”

“’m not hugging you...”

Another long-drawn sigh breezed Jake’s shoulder. “You’re clawing at my back like you’re scared you’ll fall.”

He hadn’t even noticed his restless hands. His fingertips were hurting from pressing into Maddox’s firm muscles but he blocked the pain out till Maddox made him recognise it.

He was being pushed back, away from Maddox and he struggled, stopping only when an irritated eyebrow was raised at him.

Maddox pulled the scraps of Jake’s t-shirt off his arms before tugging Jake back to his chest. He gasped when Maddox wound his arms round his back, pulled his muscled chest tight to Jake’s. Warm, so warm and comforting and immediately everything faded, and he breathed slowly. His quaking of limbs stopped completely. Jake just sighed contently several times, even more relaxed when Maddox started moving his hands up his back. His flesh fizzled at the contact, nice shivers that went up to his hairline and down to his toes. Big warm hands revived him from whatever hell he’d been falling into.

Maddox must’ve felt the change, but he didn’t comment, didn’t mock, just tipped Jake back until he was flat on the mattress, drawing him into his massive chest and pinning him there. Spooning on the bed, it felt almost domestic, the first time ever Jake had been the little spoon, and he loved the security of it.

They lay for several minutes in silence. Maddox rubbed his stubbled chin up the back of Jake’s neck, it scratched in a pleasant kind of way, but had Maddox asked whether it felt good Jake would’ve told him a resounding no. None of this was meant to feel good, but it did. His mind was so wrecked.

Jake’s eyes roamed the room. The colour scheme was moody, black glossy furniture and snow blasted walls. The extra features to the room were soft greys, curtains, abstract art on the walls. The detail was in the grey. He missed a pop of colour and he wondered why there was none in the room, deciding Maddox had to be colour blind.

The diamond though, that had been blue, a small but no less striking pop of colour. As soon as he pictured the diamond, the contentment he felt soured.

Maddox had it back. Whatever game they had been playing had ended with him losing. Maddox had triumphed and Jake was left with nothing.

The thought made him shift back into Maddox’s hold. It made his stomach swell and a cold sweat rattle his body. He didn’t want this to end. It was messed up, made him conflicted, but the thought of this game being up, he would rather die. It had never been about the money but the chase and the capture.

“Breathe Jake. You’re freaking out again.”

“’m not! What-what happens now?”

Maddox hummed, breathing deep in Jake’s hair. It was the only response he was going to get. Jake accepted it, sinking back into his warmth.

“You torture everyone like this?”

Maddox’s lips rested at the base of his neck. Teeth grazed the skin and Jake shivered wildly at the contact. “Only you.”

“But why? Why this with me?”

He listened as Maddox breathed deep through his nose, then he was turned, body easy for Maddox to manipulate in his exhausted state. He rolled over, head on Maddox’s pillow, facing him. The unsettling eyes were back, but with them there was something else, no longer indifference but an emotion that Jake couldn’t put words to.

“You killed the other guy...” he whispered.

It was the first time he had admitted to being present in the car and Maddox narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. “That was personal.”

“He stole the diamond?”

Maddox’s nod was so slight Jake thought he’d imagined it.

“It’s not the most expensive thing I own, but it means the most and he knew that. He took it to humiliate me, to gift to one of my rivals. He was a traitor.”

Jake went to speak but the stern glare shot his way had his mouth pressing into a firm line. Maddox pulled him close, tucked his head under his chin so Jake rested on his drumming heart. Over the intricate tattoo of musical notes.

“What is this?” he asked, tapping lightly on Maddox’s chest.

“Beethoven.”

The only Beethoven Jake had taken notice of was the film with the St Bernard. He traced the lines over Maddox’s heart with his fingertips.

“Sleep now Jake.”

“What happens in the morning?”

Maddox huffed, still refusing to answer.

Hypnotic fingers scored Jake’s scalp and his eyes drifted shut. He tried to fight it, but being cuddled by hot flesh, the hypnotic music of not just his own heart but another beating powerfully by his ear, it lured him like a lullaby and he sighed into unconsciousness.

Chapter 7

Hazy light seeped through the grey curtains. The brighter it got the more it irritated Jake in his slumber until his eyes fluttered open. The air in the room wasn’t stuffy like his flat, it was clean in fragrance. The sheets beneath his hands were bright white compared to the greying ones he owned, and the mattress encased his body unlike the thin one he had that ached his hips. Jake reached out to feel the other side of the bed. It had long cooled and Maddox was nowhere to be seen in the lavish bedroom.

Jake stretched with a grumble and creak before climbing to his feet.

His joggers and jacket were folded neatly on a nearby chair, along with what could only be described as a thong. Jake dressed hastily, kicking his legs into his joggers and slipping into his jacket. Yet again, he was going commando, wasn’t going to slip on the thread of material Maddox had left him.

He eased open the bedroom door, peeking to locate Maddox. There was no sign of the other man and Jake ventured further, finding himself in the biggest kitchen he’d seen.

The counter tops were glossy black. Jake could see his reflection in the surfaces and used them like a mirror to flatten his bed hair.

A huge piano sat in one corner. The smell of polish wafted, tickling Jake’s nose. The tiles beneath his feet were bright white and the mortar between squares was a shimmering silver. Like the bedroom, there was a lack of colour. Maddox had a bland colour scheme and he stuck to it throughout the house.

Everything screamed masculinity, from the huge leather sofas and the plasma TV, to the dark furniture and the scents of walnut and aftershave. There were no photos of any interest, no family in frames. The art on the walls were all black swirling lines, framed by white.

“Like it?”

Jake jumped at the voice, spinning around to find Maddox standing in a doorway. Sleek hair brushed back into position and powerful scowl on his face. He was suited. It fit perfectly around his sculpted body and as he watched Jake, he fixed his watch to his wrist.

“Hungry?”

Maddox nodded coaxingly and Jake found himself copying the motion. Maddox breezed into the room, passing Jake where he had rooted to the floor.

When he opened one of the glossy cupboards Jake choked on a giggle.

“What is it?”

He waved his hand dismissively. He hadn’t expected Maddox to have cornflakes, assumed the cupboard would open on caviar or champagne.

“Eat what you want.”

Jake tentatively moved towards the cereal. Maddox observed him intently before sighing and backing away from the cupboard.

“We’re done now. Whatever this was...is finished.”

Disappointment couldn’t register when his stomach grumbled for attention. He gave into his body’s call and reached for the cornflakes.

Maddox watched him eagerly, only relaxing in his stance once Jake started munching a bowl. He ate three. Maddox shoved an orange in his face and he ate that too. They sat opposite each other and it was only because Jake was so starved he managed to eat with Maddox watching every bite.

“That diamond.” Jake gestured to the room they were in, to the ridiculous crystal chandelier that hung above them, “why does it mean so much when you have all this?”

“It’s valuable to me in a non-money sense.”

Jake grimaced. “Why then?”

Maddox clicked his nails on the counter. “It’s Beethoven’s diamond.”

“Beethoven had a diamond?”

Another long sigh escaped Maddox’s mouth, the gloominess to his eyes intensified and he looked away.

“Time you leave.”

Jake ran his spoon along his empty bowl, trying to find a reason not to.

“Now,” was growled his way.

His eyes snapped up at Maddox’s command. His blue irises met the unforgiving green of Maddox’s and he had to look away to breathe.

“Okay,” he muttered. “You want me to wash up-”

“No. I want you to leave.”

This was it; the game they were playing had come to an end. Maddox had his diamond back, was dressed ready to continue with whatever he did for a living and was dismissing Jake even after they had shared their bodies so thoroughly. The adrenaline bubble had popped.

“Does it not mean anything?” Jake whispered to his empty bowl.

“You wanted a reward for returning the diamond...I gave you one money can’t buy.”

Maddox darted bored glances around the room, tapped his fingers on the watch on his wrist and sighed tiredly again. Everything about him irritated Jake. He was stunningly sexy, obviously wealthy, but the disinterest was cold and spiteful.

“Last night was a self-sacrifice then?” Jake spat, ignoring the stinging in his eyes.

Maddox rose from his seat, leaning menacingly over the counter. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Fine, don’t.”

Jake bobbed his head, and pressed his lips together in a hard line. “Guess we’re done then,” he said, shoving out his hand.

Maddox glared at Jake’s extended hand, narrowing his eyes before grasping it. Jake squeezed, brought his other hand up to grip Maddox’s forearm.

The whole handshake was met by an unwavering glare. Maddox narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t notice how the hand squeeze on his forearm had acted as a distraction. Jake’s goal had been to slip the expensive watch from Maddox’s wrist and he had achieved it, flicked the catch with his thumb to loosen it. He shifted on his feet to conceal his trickery and brushed his hand up Maddox’s arm before brushing it down again with the watch in his grasp.

Their arms dropped in unison, Jake backed away with a bob of his head and Maddox continued to frown at the odd display. Jake went with no fuss, ran away from the posh address with a sly smile.

He had easily stolen the watch from the arrogant man. It rested on his own wrist, far too big for him, but the price it would fetch was bound to rival the reward money--

Arms wrapped around his waist, forcing his back to the wall. The wind was knocked out of him and he winced at the pain in his chest. Maddox was there, had sneakily caught up with him and pinned him against a wall.

He leaned in, slotting his mouth over Jake’s in a dominating kiss.

The kiss was bordering desperate, Jake whimpered as his senses overloaded. They had shared their bodies but not their mouths and Jake shivered with the scorch of Maddox’s lips. He tasted good, intoxicating like a cocktail. Each swipe of his slick tongue lashing against Jake’s drove him wild. Jake’s heart was fluttering, so quick against the booming calmness of Maddox’s. The manly scent of aftershave wrapped around him, turned his knees to jelly. He clutched desperately to the lapels of Maddox’s suit.

Maddox tore himself from the lock of mouths with a pop of suction. Jake tried to wiggle forward for more but he was kept in place by two unmoveable hands on his shoulders. Maddox glared intently at his wrist and Jake followed the line of sight, confused. The watch was back in place, circling its rightful owner's wrist. Maddox had applied the same trickery to him and reclaimed his property with ease.

“Enough now, Jake.”

The pressure on his shoulders eased and Jake sank to the floor in a daze. Maddox watched with unmasked concern before straightening and checking behind himself.

“You need to leave,” he growled.

Jake shook his head, he didn’t want to lose whatever was going on between them, it was terrifying and exciting and he had no idea how to categorise it but he knew he didn’t want it to end and thought Maddox felt the same.

“You can’t be here. Go.”

The words hissed through Maddox’s lips, poisonous as they barbed Jake in the heart. It hurt. He didn’t know why it did so badly but he nodded solemnly at the floor.

“Fine.”

He back barged his way up the wall and rushed past Maddox before he could look as broken on the outside as he felt on the inside.

Chapter 8

The scent of his own home didn’t soothe the internal war in his mind. He steamrolled straight into the bathroom and climbed into the shower fully dressed. Jake leaned his forehead on the tiles and breathed the steam deep in his lungs. It made him dizzy, there wasn’t enough air in the small cubical. Before he could drop to the bottom, he yanked the door open, gulping at the air of the bathroom. Was that the solution, put himself in danger's way so he could feel the addictive drug in his brain, the sweet song of his rampant heart?

He had to get a goddamn grip, he had done fine getting his biological high without Maddox, he’d just find another way to feel alive. Maddox didn’t want him so he didn’t want Maddox either, wanted only to forget about him completely. His soggy clothes were left heaped in the shower and he shivered his way into the bedroom.

Yanking open the drawer, he tutted at the lack of underwear. He still hadn’t got any new pairs and was forced to go commando to work yet again.

It had only been a few days but felt like months when he turned up for work. He stared at the rickety sign, snorting redundantly.

Rachel greeted him with a shy smile. “Our date still on?”

He frowned at her and she flicked her head eagerly. He was saved from replying by an angry Sam.

“My office now!”

Sam pointed him inside and he went with dragging feet.

“You’re late,” he growled, pointing at the clock to be overly dramatic. “Two days late.”

Two days. It felt longer, much longer, and he didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“’m sorry-”

“Where the hell have you been?”

Jake shuffled on his feet. “Wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”

Sam folded his arms, unimpressed. “Try me.”

Jake shook his head. “I’ve sorted myself out, that’s all you need to know.”

Sam unfolded his arms and wagged his forefinger right between Jake’s eyes. “Last chance Jake. You step out of line, even a little, tiny, minuet bit and I’ll sack you.”

Jake bobbed his head in acceptance. He was surprised Sam hadn’t fired him on the spot for his disappearing act...and the raid of the shop by the suited men. Sam was pretty damn good to him considering.

“Thanks Sam. You’ve always been great to me.”

The anger scrunching Sam’s features vanished and his eyes grew round with worry.

“Why you saying it like that?”

“Like what?”

He shuffled, flapping his hand awkwardly. “Like you’re gunna die or something. You’re not in trouble still are ya...those men?”

“Nah, that’s over.”

That at least got a relieved breath from Sam, his hand slapped down on Jake’s shoulder. “Back to work.”

He did as he was told, working through his break to get in Sam’s good books. Sam was the one ally he had in the whole world and he’d taken endless liberties at his expense. His sulking stomach would just have to go without.

One day of his mundane life and he was ready to chew his knuckles off just to feel something. He thought about seeking a target but knew stealing a fiver from a wallet wasn’t going to fill the hole Maddox had left.

He kicked at the stray stones as he stomped down the pavement, glaring at anyone who looked his way till they turned from him.

A whole week passed at snail's pace. He felt like he was dying inside. He staggered the shop floor with zombie grace, groaning non-helpful answers at the customers. Both Sam and Rachel watched him with creases of worry on their heads, Sam’s more severe with his aged skin.

One week turned to two, and when a blacked-out car pulled up beside him, he couldn’t help but hope. Every shadowed car he’d seen had his heart drumming in anticipation only to skip a beat when he realised it wasn’t Maddox.

This one though, it slowed to walking pace. Jake prayed Maddox was suffering intense withdrawal like he was.

“You in there?”

There was no answer and Jake glared at the back of the car, imagining he could see Maddox instead of his own featureless reflection.

“Whatever,” he hissed, moving down the path.

The car rolled down the road the same speed he was walking, cars queued up behind, beeping angrily and hurling abuse out their windows. Jake tried to speed up, but the car copied. He tried stopping altogether and the car did the same. Yet another load of abuse was yelled Jake’s way, as if he was the one getting the car to stop and start.

He shrugged at the furious drivers but they only growled curse words in reply. Others demanded he get in the car, and when the back door opened, he dived in just to stop the barrage of abuse raining down on him. Maddox wasn’t inside, and Jake sulkily glared out the window.

“What does he want with me now?”

He was frowning at the shadowed pavement, not taking any notice of Carl and Tom in the front seat. No doubt they were grinning ear to ear at him so broken.

“Well?” he demanded, finally forcing himself to face them.

They were suited, both with cropped hair, but definitely not Tom or Carl.

“He-he sent you two instead?”

The man in the passenger seat twisted round and smiled, his teeth shark-like and yellow. A congested cough followed the smile and Jake grimaced.

“Our boss sent us to fetch you,” the driver muttered.

Jake tested the handle of the car as subtly as he could, but the man recovering from his coughing fit saw him.

“No chance. You behave.”

Jake shifted against the seat, doing his best to stay calm as possible. “Behave?”

“We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if you struggle. This situation is far above you. It’s in your best interest to do as we say. Limits the likeliness you’ll die.”

“Where’s Maddox?”

“You’ll see him soon, I promise.”

Jake sunk back in his seat, debating whether to try to throttle the man in front. A cocked gun clicked in the silence.

“Don’t try anything stupid.”

Stupid? Jake’s middle name was apparently stupid. He had climbed into another car full of nutters and couldn’t get out. They drove in what felt like circles, winding roads till they got to a street that was more littered and broken than the one he lived on.

“Nice place,” he muttered.

Wonky Teeth chuckled, giving him a warm smile that put him on edge.

“Do as we say, you’ll be fine.”

They walked him into what he assumed was an abandoned warehouse. The gun at his back was his incentive to keep going. It wasn’t like the first time with Amber and the others. The table covered in an array of knives, bolt cutters and saws wasn’t for effect. They were splattered with red drops, marks were smeared on the concrete, and the air was thick with the smell of blood and sweat.

“Oh, there you are.”

The man striding towards him had the same intimidating edge as Maddox but hidden under a mask of sincerity. Maddox glowered and acted indifferent; this man smiled, but underneath the smile was sparkling hatred. The man stuck his hand out for Jake to shake but he glared at it, refused to touch his wrinkling skin until the butt of the gun struck him hard on the back of his head. He jolted forward with a wince, arm shooting up. The man grabbed hold as if it was an ordinary handshake and he hadn’t been forced.

“I’m Richie, it’s nice to meet you.” He gestured to the only chair in the room. “Take a seat.”

“I’d rather not.”

The man smirked, darting his eyes to each of his subordinates. They got the message and forced Jake into the chair. Each time he tried to stand he was put back in place by a boot or a fist.

“Remember what I said in the car,” Wonky Teeth muttered. “Start doing as we say.”

Jake struggled like a mad man, but the men were joined by more before the cock of a gun had him freezing.

“Hands behind ya back.”

He did as he was told, gritting his teeth when metal cuffs snapped down on him. Arms pinned behind his back, his tender ribs and stomach were vulnerable and it only took a few punches for him to be gasping for air, back in the chair.

The two from the car kept him in place. There were others circling behind watching like blood thirty hyenas, sniggering and muttering to each other. This was bad, so bloody bad.

Richie watched with an impressed smile, chuckling every time Jake wheezed for breath. In the end, he slumped defeated in the chair and waited for the threadbare man to speak.

“Good, no more of that.”

He glowered at Richie, hoping he had a fraction of Maddox’s glare but Richie just chuckled at his expression, running his hand through Jake’s hair, petting it gently.

“What do you want with me?” he growled.

“Don’t want anything with you as such...but Maddox, he has something I want.”

“The diamond?”

The hand in Jake’s hair stopped. Richie ducked down to see into Jake’s face.

“Yes, exactly. He has it and I want it. I’m proposing a trade.”

“A trade?”

Richie nodded expectantly. “Your life, for the diamond.”

Well he was totally screwed in that case. There was no way this was going to have a pleasant outcome for him.

“He won’t give it up.”

Richie laughed, dark and sadistic. “Your life depends on it. Do you think Maddox values you over that stone? I hope for both our sakes he does.”

Richie moved away, whistling a tune. Jake’s insides filled with a hive of bees. His life was being pitted against the diamond; the one Maddox had gone out of his way to get back. Maddox had used him, thrown him away, there was no way he’d give up his priceless possession for him.

This was where it was going to end, in some warehouse in God knows where. Men circled around him, eager to tear him limb from limb. Dark droplets of blood were splattered on the concrete and the whole place stank of sick and fear.

Richie tapped away on a laptop, screen illuminating his stark cheeks and hollowed eyes. He straightened his tie, brushed off the dust that was clinging to his suit jacket and pressed down on a key.

“Ah, Mr Henley.”

Jake frowned in confusion. He didn’t know Maddox’s last name, hadn’t had an opportunity or reason to ask. Out from the laptop came Maddox's bored voice. Even from a few meters away it made Jake shiver and the men around him shift on their feet.

“What do you want?”

Richie laughed to himself, “Straight to it then.”

“You’re wasting my time. I don’t like people who waste my time.”

Another smirk breezed from Richie. “You have the Beethoven diamond right?”

There was an extended pause, followed by a slow dreary sigh. “So, what if I do?”

“I want it.”

Jake waited for Maddox to laugh, to smirk or snort but only silence followed. Richie tapped his foot on the floor at Maddox’s lack of response. It was the first time Jake saw the anger ebbing through the mask of faux cheer.

“I want it.... or I damage something of yours.”

“You have nothing of mine.”

Richie’s laugh echoed in the room. He twisted the laptop round towards Jake. Finally, he could see Maddox’s face, knew Maddox could see him too but there was no reaction, no concern or fear, just horrible disinterest. Jake was pretty sure he looked god damn tragic flicking his head in encouraging nods, trying to get some kind of emotion to play on Maddox’s face. A bit of recognition, or some concern, just to make him feel like Maddox cared a tiny-little-bit before he got his throat slit or was beaten to death. Nothing but those all absorbing green eyes and stern expression stared back at him.

“Why are you showing me him?”

Another bark of laughter echoed in the room. This time the sharpness made Jake wince and turn from Richie.

“He’s yours, isn’t he?”

Maddox’s eyes were intense, as intimidating as ever and unmoving on Jake’s.

“He’s not mine. Some guy who entertained me for a bit, nothing more.”

The frown lines in Richie’s face intensified, Jake wouldn’t have been surprised had the skin split and leaked blood. The depth to the lines made them look like scars, sharp splitting scars.

“I’ll just kill him then.”

Maddox shrugged. A shudder tickled the back of Jake’s neck as Richie moved behind him. He sat bolt upright in the chair when the cool metal of a gun pressed against his temple.

“I’ll blow his brains out right now.”

Maddox sighed, darting bored glances away from the camera. “I have no interest in him. I’ll keep the diamond, thanks.”

Maddox leaned forward, and the screen went blank. Disconnected, the call had been disconnected. Richie growled, shoving Jake in the back of the neck hard.

“Thought this kid meant something to him?”

The men either side shot puzzled looks to each other.

“He-he does. He’s had him guarded. We saw them go into the house together.”

Richie tapped his fingers on his chin. “Bluff, he’s got to be bluffing then right?”

The driver nodded like an eager dog. It was no bluff. Maddox didn’t give a shit that he was in danger. Jake’s breathing became laboured. He focused on the floor, shifting in the seat restlessly.

Richie clicked his fingers. “Call him again.”

The driver moved to the laptop immediately. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“I’m gunna cut his pretty face while he watches, see if Maddox stays calm while I do it.”

Jake’s stomach churned and sloshed. If he was to die, he didn’t want to disgrace himself by vomiting everywhere first. Air whistled through his nostrils as he gritted his teeth together hard, focussing on the uncomfortable pressure in his mouth rather than Richie considering knives at the table.

The call didn’t connect. The knife waving in front of Jake and the gleeful look on Richie’s face dropped.

“He’s ignoring it.”

“He doesn’t care,” Jake mumbled, unsure whether he was speaking to them or saying his thought out loud. “I’m nothing to him.”

There was a tremor in his voice, whole body quaking as he waited for what was about to happen. Fight and flight were out of the question, and in their place cold acceptance grew. He shut his eyes, willing the moment to be over quick. Voices went back and forth, two of the men arguing about what to do with him.

“You’re not gunna get the stone with the boy boss. He’s worthless.”

Worthless, dull, stupid, Jake was making quite the list of unhelpful traits. He added scared shitless too.

The man with the messed-up teeth shook his head. “Maybe it’s the long game. Maybe we gotta send the kid back piece by piece to get a reaction.”

“Or maybe he means nothing, just some boy he used for easy thrills.”

Richie stamped his foot down on the floor with a growl. The two bickering men fell silent and backed away a few steps. Richie paced a groove in the floor, muttering to himself. Just watching him had Jake’s head spinning.

“Call him again in an hour. If he doesn’t pick up, dispose of the kid.”

An hour and his fate was once again in the hands of Maddox. Maddox who had been unaffected at the sight of Jake battered and scared. He meant nothing to that man, which left him with two options.

He could either accept being ‘disposed of’ or escape and do what he did best, run.

Chapter 9

“Water,” Jake croaked and the man with the wonky teeth sneered in his direction. Only two men remained in the room, the others had left bored at the lack of action and fight from Jake.

“You can last another twenty minutes, then times up.”

Jake rolled his shoulders half in agreement. “Yeah, but it’s better than me asking for it over and over, droning on and on about how I need a drink, ‘m so thirsty-”

“Okay! Enough.”

It wasn’t Crooked Teeth that went for the water but the other man. Jake was left with the guy that wanted to cut him up and send him back to Maddox bit by bit.

“Your boss is a real asshole, right?” Jake muttered.

The man hissed with his lips snarling, “Shut up filth.”

“Come make me.”

It was risky, but no more than waiting around for the hour to strike.

“I said to do as we say and you probably won’t die.”

“You ain’t gunna kill me, just shut my mouth if you can.” Jake sighed.

He winked to infuriate him more, and it worked when Crooked Teeth approach with fury in his eyes.

The punch sailed Jake’s way, and he dropped to the floor, spinning his leg to catch the back of the man's heels. He fell with a whoosh of air and a groan.

Jake scrambled to his feet, arms still bound, but he didn’t have time to waste searching for the key.

He darted, he weaved. If there was one thing Jake excelled at, it was running away. He shoulder barged the nearest door and staggered to stay on his feet. Shouts and yells sounded behind him but he ignored them, mapping the area in his head and thinking of the best direction to run.

The warehouse had a long-paved drive, and he headed for it, knowing it would lead to a road. Running with his hands at his back took skill. He balanced so he didn’t topple and head-butt the ground.

The stomps behind him were faint at first, but enough of a concern for Jake to glance back. Richie was in pursuit, determined expression on his face.

The sight had Jake swallowing uncomfortably. Richie wasn’t going to give up his possession that easy. That was what Jake was in that moment, an object Richie had gained from a rival.

Richie’s stomps boomed after him, gaining momentum with each thud on the pavement. He was strong and had the stamina to match. Somehow it was worse being able to hear him, recognise he was gaining ground where Jake was losing it.

Cars whizzed past on the approaching road and Jake prayed someone saw him and turned off. He needed help, would thankfully accept it from anyone.

The shadow loomed behind him. Jake’s skin prickled at the closeness. His own steps were lost in the sound of Richie’s and he tripped.

He was falling, or more accurately, being slammed on the concrete. Air rushed out of his lungs with a whistle. His bound arms scraped painfully on the pavement and he winced at his grazed flesh.

Richie tussled with the squirming Jake. He forced him onto his back, pressing down painfully and crushing Jake’s hands to the cold pavement.

He couldn’t defend himself when the fingers gripped his neck and squeezed, could only wiggle on the concrete and slice up his hands at his back.

Richie squeezed hard, snorting breaths of anger as he did. The pressure had streaks of light pulsing in Jake’s eyes. His face scrunched at the discomfort but he couldn’t escape the hold.

Black blotched Jake’s vision, thickening till he could no longer see Richie's rage-fuelled face. Sensation numbed to nothing, the metallic scent of blood faded from his nose and he was only aware of the sound of his heart slowing.

The faltering beats of his heart, the faster tempo pants coming from Richie. Jake’s soundtrack was being drowned out by another. As his died, Richie’s got loud.

Then another sound joined the medley, at first distant. Classical music. Violins being plucked, trumpets being blown, drums being struck.

All Jake could hear was classical music. The snorting breaths were gone, and then a voice sweeter than any angel called out his name.

Sweet was the wrong word for his voice. It was dark and rumbling, the most addictive baseline that complemented any track. The deep tone shook the very marrow in his bones and he gasped at the onslaught of sudden sensation.

“Find me the key.”

The words weren’t meant for him and he was grateful, couldn’t get his brain to understand what the sentence even meant.

Air seeped down his restricted passage, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, could feel his cheeks heating up but his hands and feet growing cold. His mouth was hanging open like a baby bird, desperate for the universe to force feed him air.

A click sounded and his arms were drawn around. The angle allowed more oxygen into his needy body and he panted shallow breaths thirstily.

“Breathe, Jake.”

Any snarky retort of ‘he was god-damn trying’ was concealed by coughing, spluttering and desperate gasps for air. There were arms cradling, he couldn’t feel them but when he opened his eyes he saw them, bulging as they held him to a muscled chest. Jake forced his head back. Tilting made him wince but he needed to see Maddox. Concern shone bright in Maddox’s eyes as he stared intently into Jake's.

Richie’s hand had been around his neck, squeezing with no mercy. Jake swung an uncoordinated hand towards the tender flesh of his throat. The column felt compressed, as if his oesophagus was bound with tight rope. He needed to ease the sensation, rub away the discomfort so he could breathe without wheezing.

Maddox understood and rubbed his fingers and thumb over the raw flesh, easing the ache with the warmth of his skin and the repetitive motion manipulating the flesh.

“I’ve got you. Relax, you need to relax.”

Jake sagged back into the arms, relishing in the worry coming from Maddox’s normally unbothered eyes. It was the most emotion he’d ever shown. The concern, relief and hope all battled to be shown on Maddox’s stone features. His brow dented with lines, his eyebrows bunched together and the sadness in his eyes was so intense Jake felt his own watering.

Maddox drew him into a hug, forcing Jake’s head into his neck. It was the second time they had embraced. This time Jake was the one who didn’t reciprocate. He had no strength in his arms at all and let himself be held. He sighed in contentment, shutting his eyes. Maddox’s scent invaded his nostrils, and he relished the comfort it gave him. He nosed his neck with desperation, needing the aroma he had gone without for weeks.

He let himself be carried, if Maddox asked him later he would’ve swore he was asleep, but in that moment, he needed to be in Maddox’s arms, he needed to be held and gripped tightly.

The next time he struggled to open his eyes he was in a car, still plastered to Maddox’s chest.

He went to speak but he could only produce a painful croak. Maddox gazed at him before moving his hand to massage Jake’s bruises tenderly. Somehow the odd pressure-pain helped, spreading the rawness of his flesh.

Jake was too tired to attempt speech again. He dropped his head to Maddox’s chest and stayed like that. He wasn’t embarrassed about it, snuggled impossibly deeper into the warmth of Maddox’s body and nosed his shirt to draw in the rich tobacco.

Before awareness fully caught up with him, he was back in Maddox’s huge bed. A doctor prodded the tissue of his neck, reporting back to a stone-faced Maddox.

He was too tired to swallow painkillers and doubted he would’ve got them down his damaged throat anyway. Instead he offered his arm and a shot of morphine flowed through his body.

The floor tugged him towards it and he could no longer resist its magnetism. Luckily, Maddox spotted his drooping body and put his chest in the way of the fall to keep him upright. Jake was eased onto his back and snuggled into the comfortable mattress with no further thought. His tattered clothes had been removed and had he not been riding a wave of morphine he would’ve felt embarrassed being naked in front of Maddox and an unknown doctor.

“He needs rest, Maddox.”

Maddox responded, but the words were lost on Jake. He shut his eyes, his inner lids were pink, and it was so much better than black. There was no way he was sleeping without the light on when he could still remember the black of impending death. He breathed Maddox's scent deep in his lungs comforted by him, even though he had left the room with the doctor in tow.

It only felt like a few minutes had passed when Jake felt lips at the back of his neck, skimming his flesh. Maddox was spooning him, naked. His arousal was obvious, pressing into Jake’s lower back and leaving wet trails.

Jake’s whole back scorched from Maddox’s skin, but it wasn’t unwanted. He leaned back into him, enjoyed being manhandled. Hands were roaming everywhere, gentle over his ribs, and feather light on his bruised neck, as were the kisses, so light they barely registered.

Maddox sensed he was awake and stilled his hands. The light was still on and Jake cracked an eye open turning his head to see Maddox hovering behind him. There was hunger in his eyes, sadness too. Jake offered the side of his neck and Maddox understood his desire, leaned in and kissed gently at the flesh, peppering his aching throat with soft touches and suction.

The more Maddox caressed him, the louder his breathing became, puffing noisily at Jake’s neck. Teeth started nipping, scoring gently over his skin before a tongue traced the marks. Maddox rocked on the bed, making a noise of pure frustration.

“I should let you rest, but I can’t. Not yet.”

A hand tugged at Jake’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back so he was no longer being spooned but covered by Maddox’s body.

“Maddox?”

He didn’t answer, but crawled down Jake’s bare body.

The hair on his head brushed against Jake’s thighs, head wiggling between his limbs until he got the message and opened his legs.

“Don’t hold back.”

Jake was certain he didn’t have the energy to hold back. He was amazed he had enough to get aroused but his body responded at the slightest of stimuli from Maddox.

“No tensing up.”

The underside of his thighs were gripped and lifted. The angle was all wrong, and Jake fidgeted, only realising too late the target Maddox had been seeking, not his straining manhood, but in many ways, a more intimate area.

He jolted at Maddox’s tongue on him, head colliding with the top of the bed.

Maddox was undeterred, kissing firmer when Jake had no means of escape. He was told not to tense but he couldn’t help it. Maddox was licking at him, sucking there and eager to do so, desperate even. After the momentary shock, Jake relaxed into it and his body turned to putty Maddox manipulated with craft and skill. He squeezed and massaged Jake’s thighs while he licked and kissed between his cheeks. It felt fucking amazing. The nerves down there were packed closely together. He had never experienced being touched by someone like this and he squirmed restlessly, half of him singing with pleasure, other half out of his depth.

Jake bit into his arm, ashamed at the noise he wanted to make but Maddox knew, stopping his skilled seduction to yank Jake’s gag away.

“Stop denying yourself, Jake. I wanna hear how you enjoy it.”

Maddox wiggled back down the bed, continuing to kiss Jake open.

He gave up the pretence and shuddered with an open mouth. His moans strangled through his lips, growing more hoarse and needy. He sounded like a dying animal to his own ears but each time he made a noise Maddox matched it with his own muffled cry. The sensation overwhelmed his sense and before he knew what he was doing he was pushing back, encouraging Maddox to go deeper. The other man was enthused at Jake giving in to his desires, hands gripping tighter and mouth kissing sloppier.

Maddox hadn’t physically tied him up, but he was powerless to move. He had complete control and Jake trusted the man between his legs would take care of him.

The fuzziness in Jake’s head intensified. He vaguely imagined himself as a champagne bottle ready to pop its load. Detached and drunk with what Maddox was doing, he didn’t hold back his orgasm, daren’t tense and destroy the pleasure by straining his muscles. He let it wash over him, not caring what mess he made.

Cool fingers were touching him, slick when they probed his sensitive flesh. The pulses of pleasure stopped and he sighed at the feeling of Maddox preparing him. He took his time, made sure Jake’s body had recovered enough for penetration.

Maddox grumbled happily, surging forward and lining himself up. Jake reared up in surprise only for Maddox to push him back down.

“Relax, don’t fight me.”

He didn’t want to; it was just his immediate reaction to having something hot and thick breeching his ass. The blunt pressure of Maddox vanished, and the probing fingers were back. They were maddening, but Jake couldn’t help but feel touched that Maddox was preparing him so thoroughly, for all his power; he was still gentle when he needed to be.

Jake’s body accommodated Maddox better the second time. The lube let him glide in slower. He paused and studied Jake’s reaction, only continuing once he got an awed smile.

Maddox brushed the sweet spot inside and Jake soared high on ecstasy again, whole lower body buzzing and tingly.

“Shit Maddox---”

His throat hurt when he formed words. He resorted back to whines and whimpers and Maddox responded with growls and grunts.

Power and control, Jake flailed with each thrust, linking his eyes with the Maddox’s all-encompassing black ones.

Maddox leaned down, mouth pressing on Jake’s neck as he finished with fast, angled tilts of his hips. He was the only man Jake would ever submit to, and he did so with a whine, drowned out by a growl from Maddox’s lips.

He collapsed down, massive body crushing Jake to the sweaty sheets beneath. He was consumed by Maddox, owned by him. He knew he only wanted Maddox, but still didn’t know for sure if Maddox felt the same. Sure, he had saved Jake, but he didn’t know where it left them now, what was to happen in the morning.

His gut swooped when he remembered what had happened the time before. Maddox’s dismissal and disinterest. He would rather die than experience that again after what he’d just been through.

Maddox arranged them in a comfortable sleeping position. Even with the inner turmoil, Jake found he couldn’t run from sleep. Captured in Maddox’s hold, he drifted away with a long-drawn sigh.

Chapter 10

Jake groaned himself awake, wondering who was strangling a cat before he realised he was making the awful noise.

He stretched his limbs out before regretting the movement and hissing in pain. His throat burned and he clutched the skin with a wince, easing the rawness with rubs. Jake swiped his hand for the water by the bed, easing it down his throat with small swallows.

It eased the burn enough for him to bring the room into focus.

Not his bed, Maddox’s massive luxury bed. Just like last time, he woke up alone, the side Maddox had been laying on, cold to the touch. The ordeal the day before came back in crystal clarity and he held his throat remembering.

“You awake?”

Maddox’s voice was the other side of the door. Jake didn’t reply, and it eased open.

“You need to eat,” Maddox mumbled apologetically.

He breezed into the room and settled at the edge of the bed. Jake couldn’t miss the glass in his hand, filled to the top with frothy brown liquid.

“Painkillers first...”

Jake studied the tablets with unease; Maddox puffed a breath before snapping them in half. Jake took the pieces swallowing them down with the remaining water. Maddox rubbed the sore flesh in soothing circles and Jake shot him a small smile of thanks.

“Now...Drink this.”

He tried to reply with his sass but his throat spasmed and he whimpered pathetically. Maddox took the empty glass from his grip and replaced it with the swamp water.

“Please Jake. It's full of good stuff, and you won’t be able to eat cereal for a while.”

Maddox’s worry morphed into annoyance and he gripped Jake’s hand and closed his fingers around the glass.

“Now,” he commanded.

Jake did as he was told, regretting it the second the grainy drink flooded his pallet. It tasted awful and hurt more than eating razor blades when he spluttered it up. Maddox’s anger vanished and he patted Jake’s back to stop him choking.

“Plan B then. Ice cream.”

He went to leave but Jake gripped his arm tight.

“What is it?” Maddox asked.

It was too painful to speak, Jake mimed typing on a phone instead and Maddox understood, handing his over.

He wrote on the screen, holding it up for Maddox to see.

What happens now?

Maddox sighed wearily, placing the glass on the bedside table.

“You have two choices. You run, far away, start again, or you stay with me, you let me keep you.”

Jake put his thumb to the phone, knowing he had made his choice weeks ago but his thumb pressed on the same letter, typing out nonsense as he thought. He wanted to stay, but only if Maddox felt the same.

He typed his own question instead:

Do you want to keep me?

Maddox spun the phone around to read the screen, his green eyes snapped up to find Jake’s. His stare stayed intense but Jake refused to look away; he matched the intense stare with his own.

“Yes.”

Jake sighed in relief, expecting that was all Maddox would say but he continued.

“It’s rare that someone interests me. I wanted to keep you as soon as I saw you, but my world is a dangerous one. I have enemies, and they spotted my interest in you. You almost died because of me, and if you choose to stay, know your life will always be in danger.”

This whole adventure had started because Jake loved danger. He needed the thrill in his life and Maddox gave it to him in controlled bursts. The fact there would always be an undercurrent of peril added to the excitement of being with Maddox.

He typed, bold and sure:

I LOVE DANGER

The phone was batted out of the way by Maddox’s fast movement. His lips met their counterpart and they cemented their agreement with a heated locking of mouths and desperately gripping hands. The kissing riled Maddox up enough for him to growl into Jake’s mouth, to push him back onto the mattress, the concerned nurse routine disintegrating under an onslaught of lust.

“Ice cream?” Jake croaked.

Maddox snorted into Jake's skin, delving in for a further kissing session. He pulled off once Jake was gasping for breath and his cheeks had flushed deep scarlet.

“You sure you want it right now?”

Dazed and buzzing, Jake shook his head and their lips met again. Adrenaline wasn’t Jake’s drug of choice anymore, but Maddox certainly was.

I hope you enjoyed Adrenaline Jake.

I’m an indie author and reviews are a great help, if you enjoyed the story, please think about leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon

Many thanks

Louise <3

For updates on the Adrenaline Jake series and more of my writing, sign up to join my email list. I'm also on twitter

Mad Dog Maddox(Adrenaline Jake #2): m/m erotica Here on amazon.com

                                                                                         Here on amazon.co.uk

My other stories:

Keeping the Caveman: Christmas time m/m romance Here on amazon.com

                                                                                        Here on amazon.co.uk

Saving the Super-man: Superhero m/m romance series  Here on amazon.com

                                                                                                Here on amazon.co.uk

Louise <3