by Avril Ashton
Tek did, immediately, and Quinn thanked him silently with a brush of their lips.
“That’s what I like,” he said against Tek’s mouth before pulling away slightly. “Lots of things going on behind those pretty eyes. Tell me.”
“Who did you kiss last night?”
Quinn pursed his lips. “His name is Renzo Vega and—”
“You kissed Renzo?” Tek’s eyes were wide, flashing.
“You know him?”
“We do business together. Stay away from him,” Tek said sharply.
“I know who he is,” Quinn said softly. “And last night was a one off. Not gonna happen again. I can promise you that.”
Tek stared at him, eyes glittering. He brought a hand up and stroked Quinn’s head then touched his face. “Quinn.” He trembled, the cadence of his voice different. Softer. Breathier. His eyes flickered, as though he fought himself.
“Xiao Chen.” Quinn placed a palm on Tek’s naked chest, and the other man went still. Under Quinn’s touch, Tek’s heart raced.
“Touch me.” He arched under Quinn, the line of his throat exposed. “Touch me and never stop.”
Not exactly a hardship, that request. Quinn slid his palm down from Tek’s chest to his belly, and past to his cock, already erect, dripping, the pink cap slick. He rose above Tek, draping a leg over him to cage him in as he ducked his head and licked him, following the trail his hand just took.
Tek cupped his nape, body writhing, breath gasping, hips rolling.
Quinn licked him, tasted his salty skin, circled his navel with his stiff tongue then shifted lower, nosing him, inhaling him with eyes closed.
“Mm. Fuck. Tek.” He was a fucking potent mix of Quinn, them, and sex, and Quinn needed a taste of that. Ached for it. He licked Tek’s cock head, grasping him by the hip to hold him down when he came off the bed with a cry.
“Quinn. Please.”
“Yeah.” Quinn shouldered his thighs apart and put his nose to the inside of Tek’s left thigh, inhaling as Tek quivered and whimpered. “You smell so fucking good.” Wonder in his voice, because he couldn’t believe that shit. He dipped his head, sucking Tek into his mouth.
“Oh God. Oh God.” Tek’s legs went up, both of them, folding around Quinn, wrapping him up and squeezing him, barely giving him room to bob his head and take that dick deeper.
Quinn shrugged at him, fingers in Tek’s hip, sinking in as he shuddered. He was long but thinner than Quinn, dripping on his tongue, making him salivate as he sucked. He wrapped his free hand around the base and went down and up, twisting as he did, eyes closed, cock hard.
Forever since he’d been here, a dick in his mouth as he luxuriated in that sensation. Tek whimpered above him, fingers so Goddamn painful and getting more so as Quinn stiffened his tongue and pushed into his hole before he scraped his teeth at the base of his cap.
“Please. Please.” Tek shook, so Quinn took pity on him, dipping his saliva drenched fingers lower to pet his puckered hole.
“Fuck!” The word exploded from Tek, his cock hardening even more on Quinn’s tongue. “Quinn. I can’t… I can’t—”
Quinn released him and pushed Tek’s thighs wider as he buried his face in his ass, driving his tongue into him. Tek writhed on his face, pushing back on him.
God, but Quinn loved it. The cries as Tek took his pleasure. The shivers, the way his body moved, a tug of war as he fought to get away from Quinn’s tongue while staying right there so Quinn would tongue-fuck him into surrender.
The tastes of Tek, the musk of them, it blasted Quinn hard, jacked his balls up and he yanked himself away quickly, settling between Tek’s legs still up in the air. He brought himself to Tek’s hole, cockhead at his contracting entrance, smearing him with pre-cum.
“Condom,” Tek protested weakly. “Fuck.” He threw a hand out to the nightstand, knocking over the lamp and alarm clock before he got the foil packet and pelted it at Quinn. “In me. In.” His expression was pained, face red, eyes almost closed from the arousal.
Quinn gloved up then cursed. “Lube.”
“Shit. Shit.” Tek twisted his upper half as he yanked open the first drawer in the nightstand. While he dug around for the olive oil Quinn had tossed in there at some point during the last time they’d went at it, Quinn pushed two fingers into his wet hole, hard and harsh, ramming them into him as his ass clamped down around him.
“Mother fucker.” He stroked his condom covered cock with the other hand as he shoved those digits into Tek, twisting them.
Tek forget about finding the oil and began fucking himself on Quinn. “Yes. Oh God.” His head fell forward, off the side of the bed. “Quinn. Fuck me.”
So desperate.
“Get the oil and I will.” Quinn gritted his teeth, sweat dripping, thisclose to coming.
Something hit him on the forehead and he pulled his fingers from Tek. Two seconds to slick himself and push into Tek. Still tight, still stole his breath.
“Ugh.” He slid in, biting the inside of his cheek to battle the orgasm threatening to blow his fucking top off. “Tek.”
“Now.” Tek shifted, got into a semi-kneeling position as Quinn rammed all the way home. “Fuck.” Tek’s head came up as he gripped the sheets.
Quinn didn’t give him time to catch his breath, because fuck, he had none. No breath. Not with that tightness wrapped around him, squeezing him so good, painful, decadent. He was hot. His skin, a flash of heat that clung to him as he pulled out then drove in.
Out and in.
Tek’s face hit the mattress. His ass stayed in the air, and Quinn remained in him. Nowhere to go but in and in, balls to Tek’s ass, hitting him over and over. So deep and not deep enough.
He bowed over Tek, licking his nape, his neck. Leaving a trail of saliva behind, biting, and nipping. His hips driving in, and he grunted as Tek’s cries got louder.
“Touch yourself.” He hoped Tek understood the grunt. “Come for me. Fucking do it.” He slammed in, emptied his balls and blood roared and Tek’s body quaked under him. Quinn smelled him, his release, and bared his teeth in a smile, his eyes screwed shut, breath sawing in and out of his burning lungs.
He pulled out carefully, hands shaking uncontrollably, vision fucked up, and tossed the condom onto the floor. He’d deal with that shit later. Right now?
“I’m dead.” Next to him, all he heard were Tek’s gulping breaths. He lifted a hand—that was a freaking feat on its own—and stroked down Tek’s spine. Managing a tired smile when Tek’s jerked. “You alive?”
“No.”
“Ha.”
They lay side by side, sweaty bodies touching, struggling to catch their breaths.
Wow.
When he could form complete sentences again, Quinn got up from the bed on rubbery legs and went to bathroom, putting the used condom in the garbage and washing up before going back to Tek. He lay there, face buried in the pillows, his perfect ass flexing.
Quinn bent and picked up the thin branch that peeked out from under the bed. Tek had asked about the scars on his body last night. He’d promised they’d talk about it. So…
He touched the tip of the stick to Tek’s ass. “I hurt myself.”
His lover lifted his head, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. “What?”
Quinn remained where he stood and held up the object. “You asked about these.” He touched the scars on his upper thighs and upper back. “I hurt myself. Self-flagellation.”
Tek rolled over and sat up slowly, folding his legs under him. His gaze was somber, eyes searching. “Okay. Tell me.”
Quinn stared at his feet for a second, gathering his thoughts, an attempt to put what he felt into words. He walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, his back to Tek, the stick across his lap. Funny, the thing was so thin and small, but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as he stared down at it. “When the memories hit me, I distract myself with this. The pain help me sleep. Well, the endorphins that come from that pain help me.”
>
The bed rocked when Tek shifted, but he didn’t speak or come near Quinn.
“It’s not just a distraction. It’s punishment, too. A release of the anger. Irrational anger.”
“Who are you angry at?”
“The men who assaulted me, for obvious reasons. Xavier for letting me leave him.” Emotion thickened the words. “Myself.”
Tek touched him then, arms wrapped around Quinn’s neck from behind, his naked chest pressed up to Quinn’s equally bare back. “He loved you,” Tek murmured at his ear. “Xavier loved you, otherwise he’d have let you stay where you’d be reminded of it every day. He set you free.”
“Yes.” Quinn nodded, a tear dropping onto his naked thigh when he blinked. “But anger, sometimes it has no logic.”
“It’s an emotion.” Tek tightened his arms around Quinn and kissed his ear, his neck. “Like love. Xavier’s love for you. The reason he let you go when I know he’d have wanted nothing more than to keep you with him.”
Quinn swallowed. “How do you know?”
“If something like that happened, something that made it painful for you to be around me, I’d like to think that no matter what I want, you’d come first. Your happiness comes before mine.” Tek inhaled then let it out slowly. “It would be fucking torture, but I’d let you go. I’d set you free.”
Quinn touched him, clung to him really. He didn’t know what to say to that.
“How have you been feeling lately?” Tek asked. “When was the last time you hurt yourself?”
“When you left the first time.” Quinn turned quickly to meet Tek’s hooded gaze. “I’ve been… calm in here.” He touched a hand to his chest. “For the longest time I had this knot, this weight, and you came.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “You give me something to want, to need, to crave. And it’s—it’s fucking crazy how you come around and I feel better. Like medicine.” He kissed Tek, hard. Quick. “You’re my medicine, and I got no problems taking you.”
Tek’s nostril’s flared. “I want you to be better.” His serious tone didn’t erase the arousal in his eyes. “For you.”
“I will. I’m seeing somebody, a shrink. So I’ll get better. I’ll do it for me.” Quinn touched Tek’s lips. “But also for you.”
Tek released him and got off the bed. He took the stick from Quinn’s lap, tossing it aside as he knelt at Quinn’s feet. “I have some things to tell you.”
****
Tek’s stomach knotted and his breath turned shallow. He had to tell Quinn who he was, about Stavros, about the drugs.
“Tek, come up off your knees.” Quinn patted the bed.
Tek grinned up at him. “Kinda like being on my knees for you.”
“I like it, too.” Quinn nodded. “But you say we need to talk.”
“We do.” The last time Tek had been this scared, he’d been cornered inside a Rikers Island bathroom, naked, surrounded by five men intent on showing him how they treated anyone perceived as weak. He’d been afraid of dying back then. Today he was afraid of driving Quinn away before he’d even had a chance to claim him.
Quinn laid a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t we— Tek, you’re shaking.” He blinked at Tek. “What’s wrong?”
Despite the ice blanket, heavy and invisible around his shoulders, Tek managed to curl his lips into a semblance of a smile at Quinn’s worry. He caught Quinn’s hand in his, brought the knuckles to his mouth. “This thing between us is so fucking fragile.” His throat worked. “I don’t want to destroy it before I’ve had a decent chance to experience it.”
Quinn tensed, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “And what you’re about to tell me, that can destroy it?”
“Yes.” The hoarse whisper shredded Tek’s throat on its way out. He’d never had to confess it to anyone before. His parents had caught him, and in Rikers, word about who he was had reached those bloodied walls before he’d even been processed.
Israel and Elias had known, they’d seen him in all his glory before they’d known his name. No one else had mattered. Tek had never thought he’d find someone to keep him wanting after Elias so he’d given no thought to this conversation. He’d given no thought to the words he’d use to tell this man, the man before him, about his deviance, his failings, the shortcomings.
The mess his life had become.
If he’d known he’d find this, he’d have done better. Tried to be better. If he’d known Quinn was out there, he’d have tried harder to safeguard himself. But he didn’t, and now he had to tell Quinn all about his shame.
“Quinn.” He couldn’t help how his voice dropped to soft and pleading.
Quinn stared down at him, small lines between his eyes. “Come.” He held out a hand that Tek immediately grasped, heaving a not-so-concealed sigh of relief. Quinn pulled him upright and Tek went into his embrace, clutching Quinn to him, his face in Quinn’s throat.
He was trembling and he didn’t think it would stop until he got the words out, until Quinn knew. Until he’d stripped bare and shown the man in his arms what and who Tek truly was. Problem with that was Tek didn’t know who he was, not even after all this time.
“Get back in bed,” Quinn murmured in his ear.
Tek glanced at him then huffed out a laugh. “The last time I was in your bed, I was the strong one.”
Quinn’s gaze rested on Tek’s face. “And now?”
“And now I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking afraid.” He balled his fists.
“Stop.” Quinn grasped his chin, forced Tek to meet his eyes. “It can’t be that bad. Don’t do that.”
Fuck. This dude. He closed his eyes. “A big part of me wants to ask you to promise not to hate me or be disgusted.” He lifted his lashes. “But it’s not fair,” he said softly. “It’s not fair, even though it’s going to kill me if you do. If you hate me. If the sight of me repels you.”
The fingers on his chin tightened. “That will never happen,” Quinn said fiercely.
So Goddamn sure. For all he’d been through, Quinn still had faith, he still believed in people. Tek doubted that the other man realized that about himself.
“Get in bed.” Quinn waved a hand at his big, rumpled bed, the pillows strewn all over. He froze and a small smile creased his face. “I hope you know you’re like, the first man I’ve said that to in… years.”
“I do know that.” Which made the coming conversation that much harder. He got back up on the bed, rolled to the right side and onto his back like the last time.
Quinn was as naked as Tek when he settled next to him on the large bed. As Tek stared up at the ceiling, he felt that heavy expectant gaze. Where should he start?
How should he start?
“I never thought I’d feel—” He touched his chest lightly. “I didn’t expect someone to have me wanting. If I’d known…” He faced Quinn abruptly, touching his cheek, pleading with his eyes. “I swear. If I’d known I would have done it differently. I would have lived differently. I would have tried—” His voice failed him.
By his frown, Quinn obviously didn’t know what Tek was going on and on about. He didn’t know how much regret was eating away at his insides.
“Tek, tell me.”
How could he? How could he show Quinn who he was and expect him to accept it when his own parents couldn’t? When the people who had to love him didn’t?
“I knew I was different at ten years old. I was obsessed with watching my mother put on her makeup,” he whispered. “It fascinated me, the act and the results.” He shook his head. “She was a beautiful woman without it, but with it she became transformed. I wanted that transformation for myself.” He dropped his hand from Quinn’s face and went back to staring at the ceiling. “She’d brush her hair, put on a dress or whatever, and heels along with the makeup. And my dad could never keep his hands off her. It was as if her being all made up made her irresistible to him. I wanted that.”
Next to him, Quinn didn’t speak, but Tek felt that gaze and par
t of him wanted to escape it. The other part, that selfish part he’d always owned, couldn’t bear to be away from Quinn.
“I wanted to be irresistible to a man. Whenever I got the chance, I’d sneak into my parents’ room and play dress up. Makeup, clothes, heels. Just like my mom.” Pride sparked in his chest then faded fast. “I looked really pretty,” he said softly. “Especially with red lipstick.”
Gentle fingers slid through his hair and distracted Tek. He closed his eyes and indulged in Quinn’s petting. “I love it when you touch me,” he said without opening his eyes.
“Keep talking.” Quinn didn’t pause in his touching, so Tek continued.
“My mother caught me at ten. The disappointment in her eyes was… staggering, even back then. She told my father. He wanted to punish me, wanted to send me back to Singapore to live with the grandparents I’d never even met. I heard them talking. She convinced him not to do it, told him she’d get me to be a boy again.” He swallowed, tasting the bitter memories. “That night she took away her affection. They both did, but I felt hers most keenly. She used to kiss me goodnight, told me she loved me and that she’d love me forever. Cross my heart promise.”
“What does that mean?” Quinn asked.
“It’s a promise that she’d never break, no matter what.” But she’d broken it. She’d stopped loving him.
“You told me that.” Quinn rose on his elbows over Tek. “Cross my heart promise.”
“It means no matter what, that promise will always be kept. I keep my promises,” Tek told him firmly. He’d learned what it felt like to have a promise broken. “We all three lived in the house, but we’d become strangers overnight. My parents were suddenly not as loving as they used to be. I began to realize that my dad blamed my mother for what I was. Maybe he thought she’d been too soft with me, too loving. Their marriage was done, because of me. He stopped looking at me.”
“What do you mean?”
Tek pursed his lips. “I mean the last time my dad and I locked gazes, I was ten years old.”
“You haven’t seen him since then?”
Tek barked a laugh. “Oh, I see him pretty regularly. Saw him last week. He just doesn’t look at me. He looks beyond me, through me, above me. But at me? In my eyes? Nope. That’s for men he respects and as I am not someone to be respected, I don’t get that particular privileged.”