Survival Game (Men of London Book 9)

by Susan Mac Nicol

  “Maybe the drink can wait.” Kyle’s raspy voice drifted to Eric’s ears like warm air. Kyle—whose hands shook ever so slightly—took Eric’s drink from him.

  Eric waited, happy to let Kyle take the lead. Kyle leaned over and ran his pink, wet tongue down the length of Eric’s throat. Kyle’s lips lingered on the throbbing pulse, matching the sensation in Eric’s trousers of his hard-on pressing against his chinos.

  “You taste so good,” Kyle whispered as he licked blissful strokes down Eric’s skin. “You should have your own flavour ice cream.”

  Eric laughed softly as his hands encircled the other man’s waist and pulled him closer. Kyle went one better, twisting and straddling Eric’s lap, tantalisingly brushing his groin with a tight, round arse.

  “I’m not sure about that,” Eric murmured, holding Kyle’s gaze as Eric unzipped Kyle’s jeans, releasing him. Eric swiped his fingers over the tip, loving the velvet-wet smoothness. “I bet you taste just as good.”

  Kyle’s pupils expanded, and his breathing quickened.

  The kiss that followed was everything Eric could have hoped for. Kyle’s mouth was nubile, eager, and the way he pressed his body against Eric’s with each frantic thrust of tongue drove Eric crazy. He didn’t even hear or feel his own trousers being unzipped, though he saw Kyle rising above him with a desperation borne of need.

  “I need skin, friction,” Kyle panted as he pushed his own smooth hardness against Eric’s. A warm hand reached down and slicked him up with his own wetness. “I’ve been waiting all night to do this.”

  Eric mumbled, “I’m not resisting,” between greedy kisses and groping hands that seemed to be everywhere at once. “This is me agreeing with you.”

  Kyle chuckled, a strangled sound as he ground his shaven groin harder against Eric’s. Eric laid his head back on the couch, a moan of pleasure escaping from his ravaged mouth. “We’re gonna have friction burns on our dicks.” Even as he said it, he slid his hands into the back of Kyle’s jeans and roughly held him tighter. The globes of that tight arse felt magical in Eric’s hands and he could think of a lot of other things he’d like to do with them.

  Kyle’s reply was to rub harder and Eric zoned out, closing his eyes as delectable sensations raced through his body.

  Time and space disappeared to become only having this sexy man on top of him, taking his mouth with a savage intensity that made Eric see stars. Kyle’s soft moans, the tickling of skin as his hair brushed Eric’s skin—they all came together in one soul-shattering realisation that Eric had missed this.

  Missed having someone so focused on him, giving him pleasure.

  It had been too long, and Eric wanted more of it.

  “Oh, God,” Kyle whispered as he strained above. “I hope you don’t mind a mess…” The last words were lost in a deep groan as Kyle came, warm fluid soaking Eric’s groin and stomach. Spurts of spunk hit the underside of Eric’s chin, catapulting him over the edge. He clasped the bum beneath his hands tighter, fingers clenching as he released.

  Again, swollen lips smashed against his. Eric needed to draw breath, so after what seemed like minutes, he pulled away.

  There was a moment of blissful silence. Both men lay stuck together by come and sweat.

  Kyle chuckled. “Nice. I think we might have invented a new form of liquid Velcro. I don’t think I can move away.”

  Eric grinned, his body coming down from his orgasmic high. “We’d have a lot of gay men volunteering to create the product if it came to that.”

  The absurdity of that image made them both giggle like kids. It had been a long time since Eric had heard that sound emanating from his own throat.

  “We need to clean up,” he murmured into Kyle’s cute shell of an ear. “Before we stay this way forever.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Kyle murmured back. “I’m pretty comfy here.” He nuzzled Eric’s neck and planted a soft kiss there. “You make me feel good about myself. Like I’m worth something.”

  A surge of affection swept through Eric. Kyle was a playful kitten—one with claws, judging from how his sharp fingernails had dug into Eric’s arms. Kyle was warm, fragrant and seemed to love cuddling, something Eric was partial to.

  He kissed the top of Kyle’s fragranced hair. “Whoever it was that made you feel you weren’t worth anything was a damned idiot. They had no idea what they had. I guess I’m the lucky one now.” He didn’t miss Kyle’s hitch of breath and the way his hands grasped tighter around Eric’s waist.

  His playful kitten obviously had some issues. Eric wondered what had happened to make him that way.

  Eric cleared his throat. “You’re heavy, and I need to piss. I think you’re sitting on my bladder.”

  Kyle grumbled as he lifted himself off. “Fine, spoilsport. Way to ruin the mood with talk of your bodily needs, other than the ones we just satisfied.”

  Eric couldn’t help laughing. “It’s either that or I do it here, and as much as I’d like to stay here with you, the idea of wetting myself isn’t one I want to entertain.” He stood but didn’t bother zipping himself up.

  “Yeah? You like being with me then?” The vulnerability in Kyle’s tone made Eric turn around. Kyle stared up, a picture of debauched beauty lying on the couch. His pale face held a slight frown and he was biting the skin at the side of his nail.

  “I think I just proved that, didn’t I?”

  Kyle pushed himself up on his elbows, an adorable scowl starting on his face.

  Eric hastened to qualify his words. “I mean, I’m not here just for the sex, okay? I like you. I like your company.” His bladder protested at being delayed but he didn’t want to leave while Kyle still thought he was nothing more than a warm body to get off with.

  Kyle snorted. “Okay then. Glad we got that sorted. You’re sleeping over, right?”

  Eric nodded.

  Kyle’s face softened. “You’re jiggling. Go to the bog, for God’s sake.” He stood and motioned to the door leading off the lounge. “I’ll get cleaned up after you. The bedroom is through there.”

  Eric nodded and sped off to the bathroom to both empty his bursting bladder and clean up. He managed as best he could, taking his briefs and chinos off to wipe off some of the mess. He grimaced. Even so, he’d have to wear them crusty in the morning on his walk of shame. He took a deep breath and wandered out and across to the bedroom.

  Kyle was sitting on the side of the bed. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Eric’s attire.

  “I like the no-pants look.” He got up and gestured to the left side of the bed. “Mine’s the right side. Get comfortable. I’ll be back in a moment.” He gestured to the dresser in the corner. “If you fancy sleeping in anything, there’s stuff in the top drawer.”

  Eric took off his shirt and slid naked into the bed. He’d never been able to sleep with clothes on; he hoped Kyle wouldn’t mind.

  He caught his breath when Kyle walked back into the room. Lithe, with muscles in all the right places and long legs with a smattering of fine hair, he reminded Eric of a thoroughbred colt.

  Kyle slipped in beside him. “Mmm, nice,” he purred. “I like a man with nothing on lying next to me.” He leaned back against the pillows and regarded Eric with a smouldering stare.

  “Oh no, mate, no more tonight.” Eric got comfortable and snuggled down into the duvet. “As tempting as you are, I need some sleep. If we start again now, it’ll be hours before I finish with you and you’ll be screaming for more.”

  “Ooh,” Kyle muttered. “You’re a confident one. What makes you think I won’t be the one making you scream?” He smirked. “Next time, we fuck. Properly.”

  Eric’s cock stirred and he ignored it and closed his eyes. “Uh-huh,” he managed sleepily. “Maybe next time we can have an all-night fuck fest but tonight, I need some zzzzs. Work tomorrow. Remember? Not like some of us who have Monday off.”

  He sensed Kyle’s face near and his warm breath on Eric’s cheeks. He opened his eyes and noticed for the fir
st time Kyle’s real eyes were a deep, dark brown. As much as Eric loved the violet contacts, the hue of that brown made him think of warm chestnuts and cold winter days.

  “I like the sound of next time,” Kyle murmured as his lips found Eric’s in a lingering kiss. “I’ll hold you to it. ’Night.”

  Kyle pressed his front against Eric’s back. “You don’t mind me being the big spoon, do you?” he whispered drowsily. “I promise to keep my bits in control.”

  “’S fine,” Eric mumbled. “Go to sleep, Kyle.”

  There was another soft drift of lips against the back of Eric’s neck and then he remembered no more.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hey, big guy. What are you smiling about? Looks like you got some last night.”

  Eric turned to see Aaron watching him. He finished packing in some of the stock he needed for their shift and grinned back.

  “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” He closed the back of the truck and went over to give his partner a shoulder slap. “How are you doing on that front? Did you go on that date your bubbie set up for you?”

  Aaron’s face brightened. “Actually, I did. It went pretty well. She’s a nice girl.”

  Eric raised an eyebrow. “Go on then, tell me about her. Is she the next Mrs Greenberg?”

  Aaron had been married once before, a short-lived, tempestuous relationship which had ended when his bride of six months decided she wanted to volunteer abroad helping wildlife for the rest of her life. He didn’t speak about it much. Eric hadn’t known Aaron then, but from what he gathered, Aaron had been deeply hurt at the time.

  Aaron looked scandalised. “Oi, give me a chance. We’ve only had the one date. It was nice.”

  He got a dreamy look on his face and Eric bit back a chuckle. He’d had his reservations about Aaron’s crazy, well-meaning grandma arranging a date but it seemed to have worked out.

  Eric patted Aaron on the back, putting a sad look on his face. “Mate, if your bubbie has anything to say about it, she’s already got the wedding china picked out.”

  He laughed at the alarmed expression crossing Aaron’s face and motioned toward the truck. “Come on. We’re ready to rock and roll. Let’s go see what lies in store for us today.”

  “My mam’s just got a tummy ache. Can’t you just give her some painkillers and be done with it? What the fuck are you waiting around for?”

  The baleful glare of the twenty-something-year-old hovering over Eric as he tended to his patient was beginning to rattle him. The young girl had been blabbering on for over five minutes while he was trying to listen to the older woman’s heartbeat and pulse.

  They’d answered a 999 call for someone who’d collapsed, which had led them to the house in the middle of Tower Hamlets. Entering the grimy premises of the concrete, mass produced apartment on the tenth floor, an older woman had been supine on the floor as a younger one paced around the room, muttering to herself.

  He’d known right away the young woman was tripping on something.

  Eric took a deep breath. “Your mam hasn’t got a stomach ache. She’s got a burst appendix and we need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible. Could you please stand back and give me room?”

  He waved the unkempt and unwashed girl back. What he didn’t expect was the mouthful of spit he got in return. The glob landed on his cheek and he looked up, trying to control his temper, which burned quicker these days.

  “Lady, that really wasn’t necessary.” What he wanted to say was, Get the fuck out of my face before I give you a syringe of something you won’t want, you little bitch. “I’m only trying to help your mother.” He glanced around for Aaron, who’d gone to fetch the board from the truck. “We’re taking her to the hospital. She’s in a bad way.”

  “She needs painkillers, you fucker. Not hospital. Who’s gonna look after my kids when they come home from school if she’s not here?” The wild-eyed girl was definitely on something from the spit surrounding her mouth and the frantic, twitching movements of her body. “And I’m nobody’s lady. My name is Jessie.”

  You’re right about that, he thought. “Lady” is not a word I’d use to describe you.

  A prickle of alarm threaded its way down his spine. Tweakers, at the best of times, were dangerous, but this one looked right on the edge; probably why she was insisting on the painkillers. He had no doubt that, if they had been given, the woman lying on the floor wouldn’t have seen any of them.

  Eric breathed a sigh of relief when the chunky figure of his partner wheeled in the board.

  “Aaron. Help me get her onto the board. We need to get her to the nearest hospital A-sap. I’ll call in a blue once we’re on the road.” A blue call meant radioing ahead to the hospital to ensure someone would be waiting ready to take in their patient.

  Aaron wasted no time. Within a few minutes, the unconscious woman was strapped to the board, ready to be transported.

  As they wheeled her to the door, Jessie stood in front of it.

  “You’re not taking my mam anywhere, you tossers. Not until you give me the painkillers.” She made a grab for the bag Aaron had on his shoulder.

  He shouted and held it tight. “What do you think you’re doing? Keep your hands off. This woman is going to the hospital, so I suggest you move away and let us do our job.”

  The knife appeared out of nowhere.

  Dull light glinted off the blade Jessie held in her left hand. Both Eric and Aaron stopped. Eric glanced down at the patient, whose breathing was shallow, sweat beading across her forehead.

  It wasn’t the first time he and Aaron had been threatened, but a knife pointed at them scared him every time.

  Aaron’s eyes watched the knife warily. “Do you know how many patients we see who have their own knife turned against themselves? Put the damn thing down, lady.”

  Eric raised his hands, trying to placate the unstable woman before them. He thought he knew how to jolt her into letting them go.

  “Jessie, put that the fuck down,” he said quietly. “It’s not going to do your mam any good if you hurt either of us or yourself. She’s going to die if we don’t get her to the hospital soon. Is that what you want? No one to look after your kids, pay your way and let you get on with what you want to do? You’ll have to find a job. Maybe let your kids go into care. Is that your plan?”

  No doubt the old woman on the board was the sole source of income and babysitting.

  Jessie’s eyes glittered as she contemplated Eric’s argument. A sly smile crossed her face and she cocked her head. “Ya know, I guess you’re right. Mam needs to get better and come back ’ere. I’ll get me tablets elsewhere seeing as how you two are so bloody stingy with ’em.” She waved the knife in their direction. “Go on, then Mr Hero. Get her to the hospital. She’d better make it or I’ll come looking for you.”

  Aaron grunted. “Yeah, and we’re both shuddering in our boots. Come on, pal. Let’s get this sick woman to hospital where she belongs.”

  His follow-up, And get her help to stay the hell away from you, was unspoken but Eric knew his partner. Any chance he got to report this tweaker and keep the old woman safe, he’d take it, as would Eric.

  Aaron cursed as they wheeled the board toward the truck. “Shit. I hate people like that. Freeloaders thinking the world owes them a living. Using their parents to support a drug habit. Thinking violence solves everything.”

  They loaded the patient into the truck. Eric sighed. “Yeah. It takes all sorts. I guess we’d better report the situation, let Social Services take a look at the kids. I’m not a fan of them, but this case warrants it.”

  Eric drove carefully, not wanting his patient to jolt around in the back and hurt more. The blue lights were flashing and traffic allowed them easy access.

  An hour later they delivered their patient and made their reports to the hospital and Social Services. The prognosis was bleak. They might be able to do something with the kids but the grandmother was another matter. It would be her decision whether
to go back to her daughter, or not.

  Aaron and Eric got back in the truck in the car park and looked at each other. The radio was silent. Eric breathed a sigh of relief, knowing it would be short-lived. He needed some distracting.

  “Tell me more about this lady of yours,” he asked idly as he watched his partner complete paperwork. “I don’t even know her name.”

  Aaron looked up. “Her name is Leah. She’s twenty-five and works as a paralegal for a company just outside London. She’s smart, and she makes me laugh.” He gave a self- deprecating sniff. “And she likes short, cuddly men with meat on them, so I’m the ideal man for her.”

  “You going on another date then?” Eric gazed out the window, watching people walk by.

  Aaron shrugged. “I asked her if she wanted to go to a film and she said yes. We need to sort out which one. I think she likes the same ones I do—horror and thrillers, not those horrible rom-com things.”

  “Oh, she’s a keeper all right,” Eric said drily. “Hold onto her, mate. Anyone who likes your type of gore is definitely the woman for you.”

  “Talking about my love life— you still haven’t told me much about this new man of yours.” Aaron winked. “You came in this morning with a spring in your step. Are you gonna see him again then?”

  Eric shrugged. “I guess. Kyle is good fun, and we get on well.” In his mind that translated into, He’s smoking hot and I’m really into him, but he wasn’t telling his nosy partner that. In the past, if he’d been even marginally interested in a guy, Aaron had seemed to make it his life’s mission to push him into a committed relationship. Aaron knew most of the story about Lincoln and believed Eric needed another warm body in his bed to get over his grief.

  His best friend Deke felt much the same way. He was always trying to convince Chrissy to set Eric up on dates with random guys. He hadn’t been a priest; he’d had a few sexual exploits since Linc died, but Eric hadn’t found someone he really liked. Until now.