Lustful Gaze (London Loves #6)

by Julie Farrell

  Scott turned away from his reflection and caught sight of the stunning view of the sun setting over Hampstead Heath. It was so wide and open out there, and he felt wide and open up here with his own private viewing chamber. He had the best of both worlds. The best of most worlds. There was nothing he didn’t have. Yet his mind kept alighting on Harry. Not in a sexual way – although he was incredibly attractive. But just in a sympathetic way. Scott knew how awful it felt to be ashamed of his sexuality – he’d been there himself as a teenager. But at least he’d never been expected to marry a woman one day! Poor kid.

  Scott pushed away his sadness for Harry and joined his friends at the varnished table. He grabbed the wine bottle from the ice-bucket and topped up Sam’s glass.

  She hooked her long brown hair behind her ear. “So how was the new vibrating butt plug?” she asked casually.

  Verlaine almost spat out his wine. “Jesus, Sam!”

  Scott giggled as he thought back to a few nights ago when the new sex toy had arrived in the mail. “It certainly sent shivers up my spine! Paul loved it, too!”

  Verlaine grimaced. “Wait a minute – you two share stuff like that? After it’s been up your ass?”

  “We are married, Verlaine.”

  Sam smirked. “Verlaine won’t even use my toothbrush!”

  “Yeah, well, I know what you do with your toothbrush when I’m not around.”

  Denying nothing, Sam simply raised an eyebrow at her husband and smirked. Her gaze fell on the pizza boxes stacked up at the end of the table. “God, those smell so good. I wish Paul would hurry back.”

  “I’m not sure where he’s got to,” Scott said. “Apparently he’s bringing my present from Soho – I wonder what it is!”

  “He wouldn’t tell me,” Sam said. “But he said it’s something you’ve always wanted. And you’re gonna love it, apparently!”

  “Aw, he’s such a sweetheart.”

  Michael Jackson started up on the radio, so Sam shot to her feet. “Come and dance with me, Scott!”

  Excitement whooshed through him and he stood. The thing he loved most about this kitchen was the space to dance. He didn’t care if that wasn’t what kitchens were for – he loved to boogie around the tiles in his bare feet; letting go and feeling free. He and Sam held hands and pranced around the room in the time to the funky beat. Scott laughed and glanced at Verlaine; he was grinning – clearly enjoying watching his wife have fun.

  Sam stepped closer to Scott and they shared eye contact for a tender moment. Scott adored Sam. He didn’t find her attractive – what with her being female – but everyone knew how attractive Sam found him. Verlaine didn’t seem to care, though. In fact, this dancing was probably warming her up for later. Scott wrapped his hands around her slim waist and pulled her close. She gasped and giggled. Then she twirled under Scott’s arm, and threw her engrossed boyfriend a sassy wink.

  Verlaine smiled shyly. He was a tough mechanic from Michigan, but when it came to Sam, he was like a kitten.

  The upbeat song ended and the commercial break came on, so they sat back down, out of breath and feeling hyper.

  Scott picked up his wine and glugged down the sweet liquid. “Ah god, I’m gonna miss you two.”

  “We’re only going for six weeks,” Sam said, panting to get her breath back.

  “That’s a long time. How will I cope without you?”

  “Don’t be silly. Just think of all the women and girls in India who’ll benefit from our charity.”

  Scott didn’t want to talk about India at the moment; he was still reeling from their blatant homophobia. “It is great what you’re doing – trying to get more women reading and writing. But Paul’s gonna miss you. Who’s gonna support the business?”

  Sam scoffed. “All the outsourced companies who are currently supporting it!”

  Scott laughed. “Yeah, true. I wish Paul could do something more fulfilling with his spare time. With his photography. Or maybe travel. I dunno. Anything that makes him happy.”

  Sam opened her mouth to reply, but they all heard the front door slam. Scott’s excitement bubbled. He couldn’t wait to see what Paul had brought him from Soho. He exchanged a grin with Sam, then he glanced towards the kitchen door.

  Paul craned his head around, looking sheepish. “Hi, guys!”

  “Hey, babes!” Scott said. “We’ve been waiting for you. What’s wrong?”

  Paul threw him a tight smile. “Er, Scott, can I have a word with you, please?”

  Nervous delight surged through Scott’s chest. What was this present? Obviously something too big to bring into the kitchen – how exciting!

  Scott pushed back his chair and stepped out into the hallway. He kissed Paul on the lips, but Paul seemed distracted.

  “What is it, muffin?” Scott asked.

  Paul cringed. Then he gestured towards the front door. There was a dishevelled young man covered in blood loitering on the doormat. Scott’s excitement vanished and was replaced with shock. The young man’s gaunt face was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His chin was covered in a light stubble, but not in an intentional way – it just looked as if didn’t have enough money for a new razor. But he was clearly cute under the blood, dirt, and floppy hair. His cheekbones were of Johnny Depp proportions and there was a twinkle in those grey eyes – a determined spark that wouldn’t be extinguished by whatever terrors life threw at him.

  “Oh my god,” Scott said, “what happened? Who’s this?”

  “This is Edward,” Paul said.

  Edward’s expression remained blank. Scott could see he was scared.

  “Hi Ed,” Scott said.

  “It’s Edward,” Edward said.

  Scott smiled kindly. “Sorry.”

  Scott turned his attention back to Paul, waiting for an explanation.

  “He didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Paul said. “I thought it best for him to come here to clean the blood off. Is that okay? He’s hungry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “It’s okay, of course. Come on through, Edward. We’ll get you cleaned up and you can have some pizza. Okay?”

  Edward stayed on the doormat. “You’re wearing Minnie Mouse ears.”

  Scott chuckled. “Er, yeah. It’s my birthday.”

  Edward inspected Scott, trying to figure out if that was a good enough reason.

  “Come on,” Scott said. “It’s okay.”

  Edward unfroze and padded in his dirty boots over the shiny laminate floor. Scott was amazed that Paul hadn’t asked him to take his shoes off – everyone else had to. This kid had obviously been through something terrible tonight.

  Scott pulled open the kitchen door, to find Sam and Verlaine tucking into the pizza and chatting casually. They glanced up and dropped out of reality as Edward plodded into the room.

  “Sam, Verlaine,” Scott said. “This is Edward.”

  Scott gently gripped Edward’s arm and led him over to the sink, where he grabbed a low wooden stool from under the counter, and gestured for Edward to sit. Then he soaked a wad of kitchen roll in warm water, and knelt in front of Edward to wipe the blood from his face.

  Edward’s floppy hair made it impossible for Scott to clean him up, so Scott grabbed his Minnie Mouse ears and brushed back Edward’s hair, then he slipped the headband onto the young man’s head to pin his bangs out the way.

  “Now you can see,” Scott said with a playful smile.

  Edward chuckled wearily. “Thanks.”

  Scott gazed into his sparkling eyes. “So what do you do, Edward? How did you get into this mess?”

  “I’m a sex worker.”

  This info momentarily debilitated Scott. He hovered the damp kitchen roll over Edward’s cut cheek, trying to hide his shock. Then he forced himself to continue cleaning him up – poor kid. “And you got in a fight?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  Edward shook his head. “Nah.”

  “Okay,
maybe another time. Let’s just get you cleaned up for now.”

  Paul sat at the kitchen table, captivated by how tender and compassionate his wonderful husband was. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Edward had convinced him to bring him back here, but he was glad he had. Scott always knew how to take care of people.

  As long as they locked up their valuables, everything should be fine.

  Verlaine leaned over the table to speak to Paul. “Hey!” he whispered, “who’s the kid? Not Scott’s birthday present from Soho, I assume!”

  Paul stared blankly at his friend. “Do you really think I’d buy my husband a prostitute for his birthday, Verlaine?”

  “I’m just kidding, Paul. Chill out, would ya?”

  Paul smiled thinly. “Sorry, it’s been a weird evening.”

  “So what did you get Scott?” Sam asked quietly.

  Paul remembered the ring. He slipped it out of his pocket and showed them, making sure that Scott was still busy with Edward.

  Sam gasped. “Oh, Paul, it’s beautiful. He’ll love it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll give it to him later.”

  She sniggered. “I’m sure you will!”

  Paul smirked and suppressed his arousal. The sound of tender laughter coming from Scott and Edward caught his attention. “Scott’s such a good guy. I’m lucky.”

  “He’s one of the best,” Verlaine said.

  Scott noticed everyone looking over. “Hey, Edward, you want something to eat?”

  “Yeah.”

  Scott held out his hand and helped Edward to his feet, then they both strolled over and sat at the table. Paul quickly dropped the ring back into his pocket. Now wasn’t an appropriate time for birthday trinkets.

  Sam poured Edward a glass of wine, and Verlaine placed a slice of pizza on a plate for him. He gazed gratefully at them for a beat, then gobbled down the pizza. He obviously hadn’t been joking when he’d said he was starving – Paul noticed his hands were shaking, probably from shock and hunger. Presumably he’d forgotten he was wearing a pair of Minnie Mouse ears on his head – they contrasted bleakly with his desolate appearance. The others watched him with fascination as he ate. Paul could almost hear the questions whirring in their heads, desperate to find out who this young man was. Paul was, too.

  Sam swallowed her mouthful and broke first. “So, Edward, how long have you been working in your current profession?”

  He frowned. “Uh, what month is it now?”

  “August.”

  “Hm. I started when it was still cold, so I think it was maybe around March. I’ve lost track of time to be honest.”

  “That’s about six months,” Verlaine said.

  “Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “I’m amazed I made it that long. Those guys have been fucking tailing me since day one, but I’ve always managed to avoid them. They think they own the whole of Soho.”

  Paul sipped his wine. “How did you get into it?”

  Edward reached over and helped himself to another slice of pizza. “Well, obviously I didn’t ask the career’s advisor at school to fix me up, right?”

  “You don’t have to tell us,” Scott said.

  “Nah, it’s okay.” He took a bite of his pizza. “I was just standing there one night outside a coffee bar, and this middle-aged guy came up to me and asked if I had the time. I said I didn’t, then he said ‘Are you offering sex for money?’”

  Sam gasped. “He just blurted it out like that?”

  “Yeah. And I had no idea what to say – he could’ve been a cop, right? But I was desperate for cash – I hadn’t eaten for two days, so I didn’t say no – I just stared at him. He laughed and said he liked the look of me and asked me if I’d like to earn some money. I really didn’t wanna do that, but he convinced me it would be okay. So I said yes. I was scared, but he took me to this fancy hotel and gave me fifty quid for, like, ten minutes work. Then he took me home. I thought, Christ, this is easy money. I met him another few times in Soho, then I started getting other clients, too.”

  The others gazed at Edward, speechless. Paul wished he could help him find a way out of this mess. “Can’t your parents help you with money?”

  Edward shrugged. “Nah. I’ve got a younger brother and sister, and my parents really have nothing. I couldn’t find a job so I had to leave home – they couldn’t afford me.”

  “Do you still see them?”

  “Yeah. My mum feels terrible for kicking me out. But I totally get it. I’m nineteen – a man. I need to take care of myself now.”

  Paul frowned. He wondered whether nineteen was really ‘a man’. He wasn’t sure. Edward seemed so vulnerable. But there was a hardness to him, too. As if he was determined to survive, no matter what happened.

  “You said you were hoping to further your education?” Paul said.

  “Yeah. But I’m getting a bit fucking old for university now. I need to find another way to make a living. I don’t wanna go back on the rent again – it’s fucking horrible.”

  “How come you didn’t go to university?” Sam asked. “Is it because you can’t afford the fees? I thought it was all student loans, these days?”

  Edward leaned his elbows on the table. “When I was at school, I was given an unconditional place at Brighton University to do Business Studies – they were really impressed with my exam grades. I took out my student loan to pay for the course, but there was no money for my living arrangements. Even if I worked full-time and studied, I couldn’t live in Brighton. It’s too expensive. So I didn’t go. I spent my student loan trying to stay alive in London for a while, then when the government realised I wasn’t actually at university, they said I had to pay it back immediately. With interest.”

  “So you still owe that?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah. But luckily I’ve dropped off the radar. You won’t tell them, will you?”

  Scott chuckled. “Don’t worry; next time I’m chatting with the Prime Minister, I won’t breathe a word.”

  Edward grinned. Paul was glad to see he had a bit more colour in his cheeks now – and it wasn’t because of the blood stains. The food and the wine were obviously doing him good.

  Sam dipped her crust in a pot of sour cream. “This is terrible. How are young people supposed to get an education these days?”

  “I guess they have rich parents,” Edward said.

  Sam glanced away guiltily. She came from a wealthy background, as did Paul. Scott and Verlaine on the other hand were from poorer households. But they’d managed to make it okay. Why were things so different for this poor kid? It sounded as if his circumstances had unravelled out of control, slowly getting worse and worse. It was hard for youngsters to find work at the moment, and maybe that bastard who’d convinced Edward to become a rent boy might’ve saved his life – or possibly ruined it. Paul felt deeply connected to Edward, even though he’d pickpocketed his wallet. But he understood he was desperate for food and money – his circumstances had turned a good guy bad. But what lay ahead for him now? Back on the streets after this one meal?

  Scott sipped his wine. “Hey, Edward, once you’ve finished eating, you’re welcome to have a bath and sleep in our spare room. A good night’s sleep will do you good.”

  Edward paused mid-chew. He stared cautiously at Scott, then he transferred his gaze to Paul.

  Paul wiped his fingers on a paper napkin. “He stole my wallet, babes.”

  Scott’s expression changed to shock. “Well why did you bring him back here?”

  “I’m not sure how it happened. I was driving and we just seemed to end up here. He was hungry.”

  Edward leaned towards Paul. “I’m so sorry I stole your wallet. I’m not a thief – I just needed to eat. And I gave it back, didn’t I?”

  Paul scowled. “Yep but only because you…”

  Actually, there’d been no reason for Edward to return the wallet – he could’ve easily gotten away with it. Paul inspected him for a moment and his heart melted with compassion. If Scott was able to offer a
stranger a bed for the night on his birthday, then Paul knew it was the right thing to do. Besides, he desperately didn’t want Edward back on the streets.

  “That’s settled then,” Scott said. “You’ll stay. Eat up and I’ll run you a bath.”

  Edward stared at Paul with his big grey eyes. “Do you trust me to stay here? In your home?”

  “Yeah, it’s okay,” Paul said. “You may as well stay the night now you’re here. Just don’t steal anything – do you think you manage that?”

  Edward chuckled. “Yeah, I can definitely manage that. Thank you.”

  Chapter Five

  Edward had never seen a bathroom like this before – it was pure luxury. He’d actually been in tons of bathrooms over the past few months, usually cheap and grubby, but occasionally upmarket and lavish. This bathroom surpassed the luxury of even the grandest hotels. It was so clean and white, with gleaming wall-tiles and a shiny floor. The bath was huge and it overlooked Hampstead Heath through a decorative Venetian blind, meaning you could sit in the tub and spy on the world. Edward’s gaze fell on two large wash basins which were positioned below a massive wall-length mirror. Why two basins? Did Scott and Paul really need one each? Edward glanced around for the shower, and wondered if perhaps they didn’t have one. Then he noticed there was a separate alcove entirely dedicated to showering, like that of a locker-room, but obviously just for Scott and Paul. No wonder they both looked so well-groomed.

  Edward watched as Scott bent over the pristine tub and turned on the taps; the warm water gushed out and he inspected Scott’s firm butt. He’d been here plenty of times with older guys who wanted to have some fun in the water. If this had been a normal night, Edward would’ve been feeling relieved right now to be with a guy like Scott – most of his clients weren’t this nice, or as good-looking. And they were often as nervous as hell, which was annoying, because it took them ages to get it up and finish off. But, of course, this wasn’t a normal night, and Scott wasn’t planning on joining him in the warm water.

  Or maybe he was. It was so hard to tell…