Mum had had cancer. On and off for the last decade. He could hardly remember her with energy or hair. It had been a long, long slide towards the end, and she’d hated every minute of it. Eventually, she’d refused any more treatment—and it had still taken five months for the lump to take her. Chris felt her absence, missed her, mourned her…yet there was a large part of him that wished it hadn’t taken so long and so much suffering.
“No,” Gabriel said gently.
Chris squeezed. “She’s—you know, it sounds trite, but she’s at rest now.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you believe in an afterlife?”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel said. “I guess I’ll find out someday. That’s good enough for me.”
Chris hummed. Logically, he didn’t. It made no sense for there to be an afterlife. But emotionally, he wanted there to be. He wanted to think she’d found Tim again. That she had the energy to do things again. That she could exist without the pain.
But of course, she didn’t exist anymore, and his emotions came circling right back to his rationality.
“It gets easier,” Gabriel murmured. “The grief, I mean.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“But if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you.”
“And if you need practical advice about what to do with the house, I’m sure Aled would be happy to help. He’s good at all that money stuff.”
Chris chuckled. He and Gabriel both came from poverty, but Aled’s mum had been a doctor and given him a significant boost up the fiscal ladder. Aled had money that Chris had never even dreamed of.
“That’ll be useful,” he said. “I’ve no idea what to do next. I don’t really want to stay in Nailsea on my own, but the North’s not for me, either. What do you think about maybe a halfway point?”
“What, like shift up a bit so the journey’s not so long?”
“Yeah.”
“Honestly, I’d hang fire,” Gabriel said. He wriggled over in Chris’ arms, planting his head on the pillow inches from Chris’ nose. Noodle meowed, then climbed over that trim waist to settle between them instead. “Aled’s miserable about his job, and Suze is pregnant again and it really got to him this time.”
“So?”
“So…I might try and persuade him to move south,” Gabriel said. “He’s depressed so far away from his family, and you’re here, so I might try and push for somewhere like Exeter. Closer to them but closer to you, too.”
Chris curled his fingers around a chunk of Gabriel’s T-shirt, rubbing the worn cotton between finger and thumb.
“If—if you came south, I might…”
Could he?
“Might what?” Gabriel prompted gently.
Chris took a deep breath.
“I might move too,” he said. “If—if, you know, you went somewhere down in the southwest, I might—Exeter sounds nice. Or Plymouth or something.”
Gabriel blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You’d come with us?”
“If you did,” Chris insisted. “I mean, it’s obviously—he might not go for it. He’s a northerner. It might be weird down here for him. Has he actually said anything?”
“No,” Gabriel said. “But that’s just Aled for you. He ticks it over in his mind for a bit before he’ll sound it out. And I think we’re in the ticking stage. But he was really upset when he got home this evening, and I know he misses them like crazy. And to be honest, I think he misses you a little bit, too. Having more company around and having someone to gang up on me with.”
Chris rolled his eyes, and Gabriel laughed.
“You totally did.”
“And you deserved it,” Chris deadpanned.
“Rude.”
“The truth hurts sometimes.”
Gabriel flipped him off, then cuddled into his chest. Noodle grumbled, then started to purr noisily as a reminder of his presence.
“Does Aled like cats?”
Gabriel laughed. “No idea.”
“Well, he better learn.”
“Don’t make any solid plans yet,” Gabriel said. “But I’ll work on Aled and—and maybe we can all get together sooner than next summer.”
Chapter Four
Someone was banging on the door.
Aled cracked open an eye and stared at the ceiling. Where—
Oh.
Hotel room. St Ives. Cornwall.
Banging on the damn door.
“Just a minute!” he shouted, and rolled out of bed.
The hotel room looked pristine. He’d arrived at almost four in the morning and had checked straight in. His bag sat in the corner, still packed. The en suite door hadn’t been opened. The sheets were only disturbed on his side of the bed, the other half still perfectly tucked in and the chocolate dead centre in the middle of the unused pillow. His clothes marked a trail from door to bed, like he’d died halfway there. He hadn’t even texted Tom or Suze to say he’d arrived, but no doubt someone on Reception had squealed to the owner’s daughter-in-law.
Because, of course, whenever they came down to stay, they were put up for free or very cheaply in one of the many hotels across Devon and Cornwall owned by Tom’s father. Aled was hardly going to say no to mate’s rates on a fancy hotel, was he? And Gabriel never said no to a game in a hotel room either.
Aled would happily have said no to the incessant hammering on the door at—he checked his watch—half-past-eight, mind.
“What?” he demanded, jerking it open.
Suze just squealed and threw her arms around his neck.
“Hello!” she shrieked in his ear. “Oh my god, hello-hello-hello!”
Aled grinned and folded his arms around her, squeezing tightly.
He and Suze went way back. They’d gone to nursery school together and had been firm friends ever since. Suze had been the first person who knew he was bisexual or into BDSM, Aled the first person to know Tom wasn’t just another bad idea in Suze’s long history of shitty ex-boyfriends. He’d given her away at her wedding. Her son was named after his late father. They were family, even if Suze’s ash-blonde hair definitely hadn’t come from Aled’s ginger family background.
In an instant, the flat depression vanished. Energy flooded in. He was home, home like he was home when he walked in the door and reeled Gabriel in for a kiss. Home like the cuddle chair with its soft fleece blankets. Home like home used to feel, before his promotions and her marriage and the hundreds of miles between them.
He squeezed one more time, twirled her just to make her yell at him then dropped her again.
“Get dressed,” she said, plucking the waistband of his briefs with zero sense of modesty or shame. “I’m taking you out to breakfast and then you’re taking me out to lunch!”
“No Euan?”
“Tom takes him to the park on Saturday mornings,” she said. “We’ll meet them for lunch.”
Tom was from an enormous family. Suze’s family were shits but thankfully estranged, so she pretended to be an only child. Aled had predicted Tom’s tribe would win on how many children they’d have, and once he was dressed and had found his wallet and car keys, he prodded her flat belly and said, “Called it.”
“Oh shut up.” She pinked. “It wasn’t on purpose.”
“I didn’t need to know that. How far along?”
“Only four weeks,” she said. “I was feeling dizzy and weird whenever I fed Euan, so the GP took some bloods and here we are.”
“Congratulations? I think?”
“Uh, definitely!”
“Congratulations!” Aled repeated with overexaggerated cheer. She punched him in the arm.
“We’re hoping for a girl this time. Tom wants at least one of each and I’m not having more than two…”
“Uh-huh. Like you were going to wait after Euan.”
Aled didn’t like kids, nephews or nieces or otherwise. Suze, on the other hand, had always wanted babies. But they were
the same age, so he wasn’t surprised that she’d gotten pregnant again sooner rather than later. There might not be much later left.
So he let her gush about her baby son and her hopes for a daughter all the way down to the street and into a cosy little café selling gloriously fat bacon sandwiches. He didn’t even tease her about the shockingly brief span between one pregnancy and the next. The short sleep after a long day had made him hungry, and he guzzled two butties before sitting back with a black coffee and watching Suze spread jam on her toast.
“I’ve missed this,” he admitted.
“Me too. No Gabriel this time?”
“He wanted to drop in and visit Chris.”
“Ahh. How’s everything going?”
“With me and Gabriel? Fine.” He shrugged. “Same as always. I assume things are fine with Chris. Gabriel’s making noises about going abroad for a holiday this year and he’s trying to talk Chris into coming with us.”
“Ooh, anywhere nice?”
“Nah, he’s just angling for some adventure. He’s never been abroad.”
“What, ever?”
“Nope.”
“Wow.”
“I was thinking Greece. Nice resort somewhere. They can bugger off biking and I can lie in the pool all day.”
Suze laughed, propping her chin on her hand. “Well, don’t book anything yet.”
“Why?”
She made a face. “Tom made me promise not to tell.”
Aled just waited. He liked Tom. He considered him a friend. But he was and always would be Suze’s husband first and Aled’s friend second. Aled was always on Suze’s side, and everybody knew it.
And it worked in reverse, too. Tom had been made aware, very early in their relationship, that Aled was in effect the father-in-law. He was the other man in Suze’s life who took priority over even her husband. And if Tom tried to interfere with that, he would be writing his own divorce papers.
Thankfully, Tom knew what trusting his partner looked like, and had never been particularly bothered by it. Even when Aled’s marriage had fallen apart and his now ex-wife had asked one too many times if he and Suze were really just friends, Tom hadn’t batted an eyelash. He knew it had never been true. And it helped that he and Aled got along on a personal level, too.
So Aled let Suze pretend to keep a secret for a few minutes, idly stirring his coffee and knowing full well it was just for show, until she huffed and waved some jammy toast at him.
“Fine, but act surprised when he talks to you.”
“Okay.”
“His dad is retiring.”
Aled raised his eyebrows. “Uh. Good for him? Bit young, isn’t he?”
“He had a cancer scare—”
“Oh God.”
“No, no, he’s fine—it was a harmless cyst. But it put the wind up him and Tom’s mum, so he’s retiring so he can enjoy more golf. And he’s handing the business over to Tom.”
“To Tom? Why not one of his brothers?”
Tom had a platoon of siblings, a mix of full, half and step. As far as Aled could gather, a man with a horde of children had married a woman with another horde of children and made a third horde together. Tom was one of the third horde—and not the oldest, either.
“Well, he’s splitting the pubs off for Daz to look after—he’s got more experience in that area anyway—but Tom’s taking over the hotels and hostels part of it. Nobody else is interested in actually keeping it, and there’s this huge deal about leaving anything to Paul since he got married because oh my God, his wife—”
Aled let her derail the conversation for a while on April, the hideously unsuitable gold-digging wife, before steering her back on track.
“Congratulations, I suppose, but what does Tom getting a big promotion at Daddy’s business have to do with me?”
Suze fidgeted. “Promise to act surprised.”
“I already did.”
“Do it again.”
“Fine, Jesus. I promise.”
She nodded, then the rush of words picked up again like he’d never interrupted.
“So his dad is splitting it between them on the proviso that they don’t sell up to any big chains or investors. It has to stay in the family, right? But he’s not done himself any favours because he’s been sort of coasting along for the last decade rather than really reinvesting or updating anything. So some of the properties are dated and others need urgent works and there’s a couple Tom’s going to have to sell as residential anyway because of legal requirements. So the whole chain needs updating and a new marketing strategy put in place. And the pub chain is doing well, but it has a lot of capital just sitting around doing nothing. And Tom and Daz both agree it’s time to start really expanding. Push into other parts of the country, or even into Ireland and the Channel Islands, take advantage of all the ferry services—”
Aled frowned. “They have that much capital?”
“Oh yeah. This is all without needing a loan from the bank. If they got a business loan approved, they could go international overnight.”
“Holy shit,” he said. “That’s insane. Why would he just bank it all?”
“I told you his dad was coasting the business along. I think he was too old to take on the projects but too young to admit he wanted to step down yet. He’s kind of a control freak.”
Aled grunted. “No way to run a business.”
“No, but Tom’s determined to revitalise it. And he can. He’s been in talks with all their managers already, and he’s drawn up an investment strategy, and the refit in Plymouth has already started to raise bookings. Only thing is, he’s going to need to take on more staff to keep it up.”
“So?” Aled said. “I don’t know the first thing about running a hotel, Suze.”
“No, but you know how to sell just about anything.”
Aled frowned.
“He needs someone with marketing experience,” Suze clarified. “He needs a campaign strategy. A campaign manager with skill. He needs to reach new customers and new investors, all over the world. And we both know you’re the best. He wants you.”
Aled stiffened, coffee halfway to his lips.
“We miss you,” Suze said beseechingly. “You’re too far away from your family. And you’re good, Aled. You’ve raked in millions for Foster over the years. Tom could really do with your help. You could change everything for the business. And this could set all our lives back on track. We’d all be together again, like we’re supposed to be.”
Aled laughed weakly. “Tom can’t afford my help. Not to cover all the perks I get now.”
The company car, the private health insurance, the dental plan, the insane holiday allowance, the frequent flyer miles, the life insurance, the annual bonus…
“No,” Suze admitted. “It would be a salary drop. But it’s still good pay—especially for round here—and you’d be with your family. You’d be able to afford property with the wage Tom’s going to offer you. You’d not be struggling for anything.”
Aled twisted the cup in his hands, head and heart at war. He could come home. But he wasn’t a fool. The salary would be significantly smaller. No more nice car, for one. And Tom’s company wasn’t likely to be picking up the tab for fuel or expenses as much as a multinational advertising agency. They might have to rely more on Gabriel’s job, and he’d need to be able to find one down here. Would Gabriel even agree to come? He had his own life up north—Kevin and Judith being top of the tree—and even outside of his long-term relationships, he still occasionally used dating apps to find a willing stranger from time to time and enjoy some seedy hotel room sex with someone he’d never see again. Would Gabriel—
Aled’s heart twisted.
He wanted to say yes. To call Tom right this minute and say yes. He’d be close to his family, and the possibility was the most tempting offer Aled had had in years.
But what if he had to leave Gabriel behind to get it?
Chapter Five
There was a hand on the b
ack of his neck.
Gabriel gasped at the sudden stab of pain, and the hand clamped over his mouth instead. He clenched, but it was no use—the hard cock drove into him anyway. The grunt in his ear was animalistic. The smack of balls against his arse was obscene. The second thrust was just as hard. And the third. One after another. Bang, bang, bang. Just a warm body to wank into.
And wet.
Gabriel shoved a hand between himself and the sheets, and started rubbing one out. Nobody else was going to do it. He was there to collect cum and make others feel good. Which right now meant shutting the fuck up and staying still until it was done.
Fuckmeat doesn’t get better than this.
Gabriel loved waking up mid-fuck. Being used was one of his major kinks. He loved it, even when he didn’t get off. Almost all his kinks boiled down, ultimately, to being used like a sex doll. Like a toy. Like sex was his purpose, and if he didn’t like it, too bad.
But the force behind it made all the difference. The hand gagging him. Having his arm pulled out and twisted up behind his back because he was moving too much. The force of a dry fuck with no preparation. The hot, wet flood when Chris came, and the hard smack on his arse before he was abandoned in the middle of a cold, lonely bed with hot cum leaking out of him. Sleazy. Dirty. Grim.
Amazing.
The shower came on in the bathroom, and Gabriel turned over to spread his legs, finger the cum back out of himself, and jack off in the mess. Fuuuuck, that felt good.
Being used was more or less the kink that underpinned every other one he had—but sadly Chris never played games. He fucked—and not often, at that—then it was over. And it left Gabriel with an insatiable itch and nobody around to scratch it.
So before the last shocks had even died away, he texted Aled.
Me: I need a filthy dirty game. Can we play when you get here?
To his surprise, Aled was already up.
Aled: Just been fucked, have you?
Me: Yep x
Aled: Let me guess…
Aled: He held you down and jacked off inside you, and now you want someone to really abuse you, not just use you.
The Beginning (Starting Over) Page 3