Jack

by A M Snead

  We are in Chicago. We want to set up a birthday dinner in honor of Jill. Be an adult and call us back.

  In honor of Jill. The celebration had nothing to do with his side of the birthday. Would they even tell him happy birthday?

  We are in Chicago. They were there in the city and wouldn’t leave him alone until he called them back.

  “Fuck,” he muttered tightly and called his dad’s cell.

  “I don’t appreciate you hanging up on me,” the man spoke curtly without so much as a “hello.” “You’re an adult, Jack, when are you going to start acting like one?”

  “What do you want?” Jack asked low, suddenly feeling drained and longing for his bed back at the house.

  “Jill’s birthday is coming up,” his dad said as if Jack needed reminding. “I told you before, I think we should all be together to honor her memory.”

  They had already gone through this before, but Jack wasn’t up for an all-out verbal battle. Best to just get it over with and they would go home and, hopefully from then on, just leave him the fuck alone. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Where are you?” his dad asked. “Where are you staying? Do you have an apartment?”

  “I have a place to stay,” Jack mumbled. “But I’m not home right now.”

  “Then where are you? We can meet and talk about the dinner.”

  Jack stared at his reflection. Maybe it was time his parents learned what he really did for a living. Perhaps then they would disown him for good and stop fucking bothering him. “Yeah, okay,” he said quietly, then gave his dad the address of the club.

  ♥

  “Still having trouble on the home front?” Daniel hooked his heels on the lower rim of the stool and leaned one elbow on the bar. Shortly after Jack made his exit, Garrett and Benjamin had left the stage through the rear curtains, to be replaced by Nicky who quickly whipped the small crowd back up.

  Bailey wandered away to chat with one of the regular customers.

  Sighing, Gideon twisted on the stool and rested both arms on the bar top. “Yeah. Boys can be stubborn about communicating.”

  Daniel gazed at the man. There was something different about him today, as if all the stuff he kept so carefully bottled up and buried deep had worked its way closer to the surface. “Do you want to talk about it?” Daniel asked quietly.

  “What’s to talk about?” Gideon shrugged. “Neither one of them will say what the hell is wrong.”

  “I didn’t mean about their problems,” Daniel corrected.

  Gideon looked at him. “I don’t follow.”

  Daniel reached over and slid his hand along Gideon’s shoulder, squeezing with affection. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

  The man didn’t shrug his hand away, he never did. But neither did he encourage any further touching or caressing.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Gideon said and shifted his gaze from Daniel’s face.

  Daniel chuckled softly. “Apparently men can be stubborn about communicating as well.”

  His eyes jumping back to Daniel’s face, Gideon stared at him soberly, then laughed low. “Yeah, well…”

  “How many more years do we have to be friends before you tell me what it is that’s got such a hold on you and won’t let go?” He rubbed his thumb gently against the curve of Gideon’s neck, his fingers tingling to slip into the man’s hair, stroke through his soft, dark strands. “Do you think I wouldn’t understand?”

  Gideon exhaled deeply. “It has nothing to do with that, Daniel,” Gideon murmured and stared at his hands. “It’s just something that”—he shrugged—“won’t help by talking about it. It is what it is.”

  Daniel had his suspicions about what “it” was, and it bugged the shit out of him. Clearly Gideon was holding onto something—or more likely someone—from a past that was long gone, yet he was unable to let go and move on. And until he dealt with it…Daniel’s fantasies of the man warming his bed would go unrealized.

  “Maybe talking about it won’t change the situation,” Daniel said. “But it would at least help you get it off your chest. Everyone needs someone to talk to. I would like to think you trust me enough to be understanding and discreet.”

  “I do,” Gideon answered without hesitation and turned a little toward Daniel, curling his hand over Daniel’s outstretched arm and squeezed lightly. His gaze met Daniel’s stare. “I do. And if I ever get ready to talk about it…it will be with you. I promise.” Gideon held his eyes and Daniel wondered if the man was aware just how strong Daniel’s desire for him truly was. He knew he didn’t hide it well when he looked at the other man, and his blatant flirting surely gave it away to some degree. But did Gideon really understand how deeply rooted he was in Daniel’s heart?

  Come to my bed, baby. I promise…you’ll never leave.

  “You know you’re breaking my heart, right?” Daniel smiled and leaned closer. His fingertips grazed around the nape of Gideon’s neck, skipping through the short hairs and inciting delightful shivers in both men. “Every time you turn me away, in whatever respect.”

  “You think it’s easy for me?” Gideon’s lips quirked with a playful smile but there was enough seriousness in his eyes to cause a flutter in Daniel’s pulse.

  Leaning closer, Daniel touched his lips to the corner of Gideon’s mouth. “So, stop resisting,” he whispered, offering the obvious solution. “You know it’s so much easier to say what you want to say…when it’s pillow talk.” His lips lingered in hopeful anticipation that Gideon would initiate a full-on, passionate kiss. It was just wishful thinking, of course, he knew that. It wasn’t that he had never kissed the man before, but Gideon had never allowed it to be more than a quick peck on the lips. Daniel longed for one much deeper…more meaningful. Sighing softly, Daniel drew back when, yet again, his fantasy kiss eluded him. “Someday, Gideon,” he murmured. “You’re going to warm my bed, and when you do…” Daniel leaned in again and brushed his lips over the man’s cheek. “…you will kick your own ass for waiting so long.” Daniel blew softly in his ear. “And then I will kiss away the bruises.”

  61 “The Unbearable Answer”

  As soon as the call ended, a shudder skittered through Jack. He was really doing it—really about to finalize the severing of ties with his family. Family? What family? Since coming out of the closet, his “family” had been reduced to Jill. His parents still acknowledged him to some degree, more so his mere existence than anything else. He had ceased being their son. Of course, Jack wanted his parents’ approval, especially his dad’s—what son didn’t want their father to be proud of them? But strangely, their attitudes didn’t hurt nearly as bad as he would have thought. Jill had loved him, admired him, adored him, and was so damn proud of him. That had been enough. She’d made up for everything a thousand times over and eased the hurt of being rejected by their parents.

  And now they talked about honoring her memory. Using phrases such as—"It’s what Jill would want.” How the fuck would they know what Jill would want? They hadn’t known her, not like Jack did. Gideon had been right, she would want Jack to have a blowout birthday party for them both. To honor her memory in a fashion suitable for the young woman that Jill had been. And Jill would have never wanted him to hide his career from their parents. Never hide anything from anyone, if it kept him down in any way. She had been his greatest supporter, his cheerleader. It would have brought her comfort to know he had found a new family who loved him for who he was, saw how special and talented he was.

  Most of them, anyway. Images of Garrett and the new kid filled his head. Upon Jack’s arrival, Garrett had begun making up to the kid even more, looking as if he meant to fuck him right there onstage. Jack waited for the bitterness to bubble up, the bitterness he had felt out at the bar. But he was suddenly empty inside. Though it hollowed him out, it kind of felt good, too. To just not feel anything.

  Go talk to him now. Right now, while you’re numb of emotion.

  Jack glanced at his ref
lection. Memories of that night with Garrett tried to steal back in, return feeling to his heart and mind, but he pushed them away—not violently, as before, but just a gentle but firm shove. He had told Garrett that he wasn’t like Scotty, that he could let go and not be mad if Garrett didn’t want anything serious with him. Jack had given his word, and now it was time to make good on it.

  He left the restroom with the intentions of waiting for Garrett to finish with the stage routine, then take him aside and just clear the air once and for all. As he closed the restroom door behind him and started back toward the front of the club, voices made their way to him from the back, drifting up the narrow corridor that he assumed led to the dressing rooms. There was no mistaking Garrett’s masculine voice.

  Jack hesitated. After their antics onstage…would he walk in on Garrett fucking the kid? Maybe he did feel empty and numb at the moment, but somehow he thought that scene might kick his emotions back in. The voices were low, though, and didn’t have the feel of sexual activity.

  Get your ass in gear before they do start something.

  Releasing a breath that was suddenly as shaky as his legs, Jack ventured down the narrow hall cautiously, keeping his ears tuned in for other sounds that would be his cue to abort his mission.

  ♥

  “You’re really hot.” Benjamin made no move to wipe the sweat from his body when Garrett handed him a towel. His dark eyes dripped with lust as they crawled all over Garrett’s glistening torso. His pants hadn’t come off onstage, although the boy had done a damn fine job of getting him hard as a fucking rock. The boy stepped forward and raked his fingertips down Garrett’s chest. “So…can we talk about that maybe, we’ll see thing?” He slinked closer to Garrett’s aroused body. “A quick little fuck right here?”

  When the kid’s hand shoved down inside Garrett’s open pants, he couldn’t stifle the gasp of his throbbing cock being grabbed and handled. Yet the boy’s enthusiasm was just a little too forward for Garrett, as if Benjamin was convinced that Garrett just wanted to get off as well.

  “Easy.” Garrett shuddered and again moved the kid’s hands from his crotch as he’d done onstage. His cock cursed him and insisted he let the boy have free rein, but Garrett kept hold of his hands. “Why the rush?”

  “You don’t want to fuck me?” Benjamin asked, then smiled. “Your cock sure does.”

  Garrett couldn’t say why, but this bold talk coming from such a young, deceptively innocent face felt off.

  “Don’t you even want to know my name?” Garrett wondered. “Before you have me impale you?”

  Benjamin shrugged. “Sure. I guess it would be good to have a name to scream out when I’m about ready to shoot my wad.”

  Raw, even crude, sex talk was nothing new to Garrett—he and the other guys spewed plenty of it themselves. Often, though, it was in jest or when they were just fucking with each other. This kid was dead serious, and it was beginning to turn Garrett off. Mostly because he had the nagging feeling it was all an act. It didn’t feel “genuine.” There was too much shyness lurking behind the boy’s dark, lustful eyes, betraying his level of youth and possibly even inexperience.

  “I’m Garrett,” he said.

  “I’m Benjamin.” The boy rubbed against him. “But the boys who fuck me call me Benji…so please, call me Benji.”

  The boys who fucked him? Garrett frowned. “You have a lot of boyfriends, do you?”

  Laughing softly, the boy shook his head. “I don’t have any. I mean the boys I work with.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Benjamin smiled slyly. “I’m a porn star,” he cooed. “I get fucked for a living. Exciting, huh?” The glimmer in the boy’s eyes barely veiled the shadow behind them.

  “You can’t be but barely eighteen,” Garrett murmured. “What—did you just get into the business recently?”

  The kid shrugged and smiled. He tugged his hands free and traced patterns on Garrett’s damp skin. “I’ve been doing it about a year now, maybe a little longer.”

  “What?” Garrett stared at him. Was he serious? “It’s illegal for porn companies to hire underage clients.”

  “A fake ID and a boss who doesn’t really care…and anyone can get hired.”

  Garrett’s chest tightened. “Why the hell would you want to get into the business at such a young age?”

  “Money.” Benjamin smirked. “Why else? I mean, other than for the sex. Which is awesome. Some of those guys are animals, and fuck like it, too.”

  “And you like that?” Garrett stared at him. “To be fucked like an animal?”

  Something flickered behind the boy’s eyes. “Yeah. Sure, I do. The harder the better.”

  The kid was lying. Barely eighteen and Garrett could already see the damage showing through. “Daniel said you had just started a new job? With who?”

  Benjamin backed off when he realized Garrett wasn’t going to turn him around and nail him to the wall. “Silver Star Productions,” he said, dropping some of the “come-on” tone.

  “Silver Star Productions?” Garrett knew of the company. Most in the business did. They were a fucking flesh mill. Their favored commodity being the barely legal boys and girls looking for some quick and easy cash. But it came with a price. Garrett had met a few of the boys who had come out that side of the business, and it wasn’t fucking pretty. His first thought upon meeting Scotty had been that the boy had been through their grinders, but that hadn’t turned out to be the case. Scotty’s travels had taken him through a slightly deeper hell.

  “I auditioned for them a few days ago,” Benjamin was saying. “I start shooting day after tomorrow.”

  “Auditioned? And what does such an audition consist of?” Garrett had never been through the mills, but he suspected their “auditions” were much different and less dignified than Gideon’s.

  “I had to fuck the boss,” he said. “And a couple of their top guys. They wanted to see if I was capable of taking the rough stuff.” The kid shifted his gaze and chewed his lower lip. “I was.”

  Garrett’s frown tightened. “Did they…hurt you?”

  “There was some pain.” Benjamin shrugged, his eyes on the floor. “But that’s to be expected in this business.” He looked up slowly. “You don’t like porn stars?”

  “I like them just fine,” Garrett said. “But not the companies who exploit them.”

  “Are there any other kind?” Benjamin asked quietly. “Aren’t they all just flesh peddlers? I mean, you take a job where your cock is your tool, you can’t hardly expect to be treated with respect and dignity.”

  “Why not?” Garrett asked. “You’re still a human being. So, you’re being paid to have sex, that doesn’t take away your humanity or give anyone the right to use and abuse you.”

  The boy shrugged and finally started wiping himself down with the towel. “That’s porn,” he mumbled. “No one’s going to respect you. Least of all the ones who hire you. You’re just a piece of ass to bring in cash.”

  The longer Garrett spoke to the kid, the more Benjamin’s facade began to break away. His insistence that he liked to be fucked hard and the harder the better…was just a front. And Garrett understood why the boy felt the need to put up such a front. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to handle the things he did for money—not emotionally. And God only knew what the hell those gutter companies required of their boys and girls.

  “Not all companies and bosses are like that,” Garrett told him.

  Benjamin grabbed his jeans and began stuffing his legs in. “How do you know?” he asked quietly, almost dejectedly, all former flirtation vanished. He hopped a little as he jerked his pants up his legs and fastened the button then zipped them. He looked at Garrett and for the first time since climbing up onstage with the kid, Garrett knew he was seeing the real Benjamin Sweet.

  “Because my boss isn’t like that,” Garrett said softly.

  The kid stared at him, taking a moment to process what Garrett was saying. “You’re…” The
boy frowned uncertainly. “You’re a porn star?”

  Garrett nodded.

  “So why wouldn’t you…” The kid glanced away, displaying open shyness.

  “Do you?” Garrett cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “A guy can retain morality and standards even when sex is his career.”

  “Of course,” Benjamin whispered, a slight strain to his voice. He picked up his shirt, avoiding Garrett’s eyes. “You’re one of those high-class stars. Why would you want to fuck a filthy little slut like me, right?”

  “Hey.” Garrett gripped his arm gently. “I didn’t call you that.”

  “But it’s what I am, right?”

  “Says who?”

  The kid cleared his throat but refrained from looking at him.

  “Do your…co-stars call you that?”

  Benjamin nodded slowly, staring at the floor. “They call me all kinds of things,” he whispered. “When they’re…” He cleared his throat again. “They like to slap…pull hair…choke, sometimes.”

  The boy’s arms slid around himself and he suddenly looked far younger than his eighteen years. The vulnerability in him reminded Garrett of Scotty when they first met—hurting and needing someone to care, for real. Garrett had done him more harm than good by trying to fill that void, but maybe with this kid, he could do things right and actually help him.

  “What if I could get you a permanent job here at the club?” Garrett asked. “As a dancer? You would be treated with respect. Daniel is an awesome guy. You wouldn’t have to fuck anyone. Just dance.”

  Benjamin looked up uncertainly. “I…I don’t dance that good.”

  “Semantics.” Garrett smiled. “You can learn. And I already know for a fact that Daniel is hoping you’ll want to stay on. He sees much potential in you.”

  “Really?” The boy’s face scrunched doubtfully.

  “Really.”

  The kid fidgeted then mumbled, “What about your boss? Do you think he would hire me?”

  Garrett recognized the look in the boy’s eyes quite well. Garrett was surely the first to show real concern for him and the kid was displaying the same enamored look that Scotty had displayed when Garrett had first shown him attention. “How about you start here first?” he suggested. “Some of the guys I work with also dance here at the club. My boss, Gideon, is close friends with Daniel. It’ll give you a chance to get acquainted with everyone, maybe take some time to sit down and talk with Gideon as well. Make sure that’s the direction you want to go. No need to rush anything.”