Hector’s expression remained blank. “Of course not, sir. My apologies. I will take care of everything and bring it to you immediately.”
Roman relaxed. “That’s better. And just to reiterate, you are to treat Jack as you would me. Whatever he wants you are to make sure he has it. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. Will that be all?”
“Yes. Make sure everything is ready before he arrives.”
“I will see to it personally.”
Hector turned on his heels and headed down the stairs. Roman found himself shaking. If any one of his servants had a problem with Jack, they could leave. Even if he were to be left with no one else around him—as long as he had Jack, it would be fine.
Roman went to the mirrored closet that covered one entire wall in his bedroom. He slid it open, and retrieved the sheer silk pyjamas he had originally planned on wearing his first night with Jack. He chuckled to himself. There hadn’t been the opportunity. The last thing Roman had been thinking of was his attire. Once he’d had Jack’s dick in his mouth that had been all that mattered.
* * * *
The warm spray from Roman’s shower did little to ease Jack’s tired muscles. His first full day with Roman had turned into an endless sex marathon. Roman wouldn’t let him go. He touched him, caressed and kissed him constantly. The last time Roman had come in Jack’s mouth, he had yelled out his love again. It was only nine o’clock in the evening, but they had to be up by four thirty to make it to the studio on time, and Jack had hoped that a warm shower would help relieve his aches and pains. Roman had already phoned Vincent at his home to make sure that Jack was moved into his dressing room on the set. Jack had protested, but Roman had reacted with such hurt that Jack had back-pedalled, saying “I just don’t want to be in your way.”
Roman had insisted to Jack that he could never be considered a bother, and that it would be too traumatic for them to be separated for even a moment.
Maybe I should make it completely cold.
It wouldn’t be the first time Jack had taken a cold shower. Many times back in New York, he and Nick had found themselves without hot water in any one of the various dumps they’d stayed in over the years. He wondered where Nick was now. Did he have hot water? Enough to eat?
A clenching pain shot through his gut. Jack threw out a hand to steady himself against the black marbled shower wall. Specks of what looked like gold were a part of the stone. Jack stared at them as if in a trance. His gaze strayed to the artfully sculpted water spigots that were also gold. Roman had told Jack that they were genuine. Six months ago, the hot water handle all by itself would have paid for him and Nick to live well for quite a while.
How did I get here?
It had all been a turn of chance. Leaving New York without enough money saved. Coming to Hollywood, and getting the studio jobs the way they had. Bernie sending them to the Silver Star where they met Trixie. Trixie introducing them to the Hollywood scene, and helping Jack get his first acting job. The party at Roman’s…
Suddenly, the elegant shower was a dark cave closing in on him. He couldn’t catch his breath. His head spun a little, his knees buckling. He grabbed the hot water handle and violently shut it off. Instantly, icy cold water cascaded down on him, almost shocking him back to the present.
The curtain pulled aside.
“My God, Jack!”
He turned to see Roman entering the shower, reaching for him and shutting off the water. Jack collapsed in his arms. He was vaguely aware of being lifted by Roman and carried to the bed, where Roman gently lay him down. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the endless pictures flashing in his mind like a crazy stereoscope, the cards all jumbled up and out of sequence. Spinning on the stools at Huyler’s. Sharing a cigarette, because they were down to their last one. The crush of that first kiss in the alley. The pancake breakfast right after. Saving their nickels to go to the picture show. Nick offering his help when Jack met him at the train station. Nick entering him the first time. The image of Nick’s rage, glass shattering everywhere.
“Jack. Speak to me.”
Roman’s soothing voice penetrated Jack’s thoughts, and he opened his eyes to see Roman looking down at him, caressing Jack’s face with the back of his hand. Roman climbed onto the bed, and lay beside him. He reached his arm under Jack’s neck, and pulled him closer.
“What is it, my angel? I’m here—everything is fine.” Roman showered his face and neck with kisses.
Jack found his voice. “This is all real. Isn’t it?”
Roman leant back to look into Jack’s eyes. “What? Of course. My God, Jack, you’re trembling.” Roman fussed with the covers, trying to gather them around Jack. “You have me scared half to death. Whatever is the matter?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. You aren’t leaving?”
“That would be ridiculous. I live here.”
Jack frowned.
Roman sighed. “No, Jack. I’m not leaving, you’re not leaving. We are both here together. If I could get my dick hard again, and we didn’t have to go that wretched studio in a few hours, I would remind you of why no one’s leaving. But we’re both exhausted—wonderfully so, I might add—and it’s time we got some rest.”
Roman kissed him sweetly on the lips, and wrapped his body around Jack like a cocoon. Jack relaxed into Roman’s warmth and strength. He inhaled Roman’s masculine scent, and embraced him in return. Roman whispered against Jack’s ear, “No one’s ever leaving again. Goodnight, my angel.”
“Goodnight, Roman. Thank you.”
It would all be okay. Roman was there for him—loved him. Jack wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on the past, and what might have been. Nick had taken that choice away from Jack the moment he’d left.
Chapter Thirteen
“Cut, cut, cut!”
Marvin’s face was so red, Jack was sure he was going to have a heart attack. He waved his hands all around in the air and marched towards Roman, Trixie and Jack. Roman lazily rolled onto his back against the pillows of the prop bed, and pushed Trixie away from where she’d been under him.
“Hey! Watch it.” She pouted and scooted over, crossing her arms over her chest.
Roman was naked from the waist up, but he had to make sure his nipples were hidden when the cameras rolled. A film that didn’t meet the Hays Production Code would never get shown.
Martin was almost to them.
“Everyone get the fuck out. Now.”
Crew members scattered to all corners, and Roman yawned, acting as if he were going to get up and leave.
Marvin shouted, “Not you.”
Roman froze, a steely look of hate on his face. Jack stayed glued to his position near what was supposed to be the front of the movie set room.
“I believe you meant to say ‘Not you, please, Mr Pasquale’.”
Marvin stopped next to the bed, hands on his hips. “Oh cut the crap, Roman. I was hoping to get this mess finished this week. The posters are ready, the dates are set and I’m already planning my next picture. And I got location shoots next week.”
“My God, man. Take a vacation. Enjoy life a little.”
“I would love to. If only I could get one fucking picture to come in on time. So let’s make this happen, please? You see. I said please.”
“Yes. That’s much better.”
Roman relaxed back on the pillows. “But first, may we have a break? I need to have a smoke with Jack back in the dressing room.”
Trixie snorted, and Jack’s face flushed. It wouldn’t be the first ‘smoke’ they’d had that day.
Martin’s lips were tightly pressed together, and he inhaled deeply before speaking, “Roman. Mr Pasquale. I don’t want to be here all night, and I’m sure you and your co-star don’t either. I don’t have time for these hour long smoke breaks. That’s gotta be one hell of a big cigarette.”
Roman raised his eyebrows. “You have no idea.”
Trixie howled and slapped her kne
e.
Marvin muttered something under his breath about stars and the death of him. Jack couldn’t catch all of it.
“Can we get this one. Fucking. Shot. Then you and Jack can go smoke all you want.”
“I suppose I can accommodate you, Marvin. Are you all right with that, Jack?”
Everyone turned his way.
Oh God.
He appreciated that Roman treated him with deference in front of other people, but Jack wasn’t really up to the task. He preferred to stay out of any uncomfortable situations or conflicts. He had no desire to put himself above anyone else. “That’s fine.” His quiet voice barely carried to where everyone stood.
Marvin looked back at Roman. “Now that that’s settled. Any chance you could pretend that you’re the least bit interested in your female love interest over here? You might be able to accomplish that better if you weren’t staring at Jack the entire time you were kissing her.”
“Well, I need to feel some passion for your precious scene, don’t I?”
“I been feelin’ plenty a your passion, Roman. Damn, that is a big cigarette.” Trixie guffawed some more.
“Why thank you, dear. How kind of you to say.”
Jack wished that he could disappear.
“You know what? I don’t give a shit anymore. Whatever the three of you do on the next take is what I’m gonna print. This can be a gay threesome for all I care.”
“Who says I was gay?” Trixie looked perplexed.
Roman smiled and patted her arm. “Need I remind you of some of your partners at my romps?”
“Oh, yeah.” She giggled. “Never mind.”
Marvin threw his hands in the air and marched back to his camera. He picked up his bullhorn, his voice booming through it. “Everyone back on the set!”
* * * *
He would need some coke tonight. Roman had been taking Jack three, sometimes four times a day, and he just wasn’t as young as he used to be.
What a gruesome thought.
It had been four days since Jack had moved in and, for once, they’d managed to end the day on time at the set. There were just a few pick-up shots left and they’d be done. Roman had already looked into Jack’s next film commitment, and had tried to convince Vincent and Goldstein to take Jack out of that production on the pretext that it wasn’t a big enough role for him. Roman wasn’t due to shoot for another month, and he wanted Jack with him every second until then. They hadn’t bought it.
It really isn’t right for him. They just want to exploit him.
Roman knew all about being exploited, and he had decided that he should be Jack’s unofficial guardian in such matters. He was so young. He needed to learn so much about Hollywood. How to behave, what to wear, who was good to be around—who was not. Roman believed that his all-consuming love for Jack would guide him in what was best for Jack.
The first one that has to go is Trixie.
She had served her purpose well, but she was much too gauche to continuously be exposed to Jack. Roman would find a way to make sure that she stayed away from Jack without upsetting him. Jack was so naïve, he just didn’t understand what was best for him.
Roman clasped his hand over Jack’s. His head lolled from side to side with each jostle of the car.
Poor baby. So tired.
He would allow Jack to nap, and whilst he did, Roman would soak in his large tub and prepare himself with scented oils. Then he would have a toot to get ready to penetrate Jack. It had been long enough in Roman’s opinion that he could have Jack that way without hurting him. It would be good training for Jack. Roman loved to fuck. The more he could bury himself in the moist heat that was Jack, the happier he would be. Although, if the past few days were any indicator, he couldn’t imagine such a thing. He would likely burst.
They pulled into the driveway, and once the vehicle came to a halt, Roman gently shook Jack’s arm.
Jack’s eyes fluttered, and Roman brought one of Jack’s hands to his lips. “We’re here, my sweet Jack.”
“Okay,” Jack said in a sleepy voice.
Roman helped him from the vehicle, and Juan waited until they were both all the way through the gate guarding the entrance before he drove away. Roman still had his arm looped through Jack’s as Hector opened the front door. Roman saw that he was careful to keep his expression impassive and to not meet Roman’s eyes directly.
Good.
Roman dreamt of a world where he and Jack could walk arm and arm like this all the time without a second thought. A place where there were no recriminations. Neither he nor Jack would be subjected to threats or beatings, and there would be no fear of being abandoned by friends or family.
Roman shook his head. Why he should think of his parents at that moment was a puzzle. All he cared about was where he was right now. And where he would soon be—delighting in the sensation of Jack tightly clenched around his cock.
Once they reached the bedroom, Jack yawned and took off his jacket. He went to his side of the closet that Roman had cleared for him and carefully hung everything up the way Roman had shown him. Roman approached Jack from behind.
“Let me help you. I believe I may have worn you out.”
Jack leant back in his embrace, and Roman closed his eyes, the feel of Jack’s small frame pressed against him so tempting. He ran his hands up and down Jack’s torso, and as he glanced at their reflections, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with Jack that night. But first, to help him regain his strength… Roman had delicately brought up the subject of cocaine to see how he would react. Roman was well aware of Trixie’s constant use of the joy powder, so he couldn’t imagine that Jack was unaware of its existence. Jack had told him that the only time he’d used it was to help him get through the long nights of debauchery performing in front of strange men. He hadn’t taken it since, and didn’t want to again. He’d said it reminded him too much of ‘those nights’.
Since Jack was fully capable of multiple erections, and Roman wasn’t, he just made sure to use it only when Jack was busy elsewhere.
Roman nibbled on Jack’s neck. He stopped and turned Jack to face him. They both had their arms wrapped around the other’s waist. Jack looked up at Roman through drowsy eyes and smiled.
“You fill my heart, Jack. But let’s get you to bed for a little nap.”
Roman dropped his arms and took Jack by the hand, leading him to the bed.
“That’s okay, Roman. I’m fine.” Jack yawned loudly and slapped his free hand over his mouth.
Roman laughed. “Yes, I can see that. Now be a good boy and do as you’re told. I’ll wake you up in an hour, and I shall feed you in the bath. I had the chef make some chocolate mousse for dessert.”
Jack’s eyes widened. Roman pulled back the covers and Jack climbed in, wearing only his under things. Jack laid his head on the pillow and curled up in a ball, his hands folded under his cheek. Roman’s heart swelled. He could stare at this vision of Jack forever, but he had other plans for the young man that evening.
After tucking him in, Roman went into the bathroom and locked the door. He took the small round silver container from the back of his drawer of ivory combs and brushes, and unscrewed the top. He scooped a tiny amount out with the nail of his pinky finger, placed the drug in one nostril and inhaled sharply. He closed his eyes and swallowed—the bitterness a signal to his brain that it was time to enjoy himself to the fullest. He would take another sniff just prior to waking Jack.
His Jack. He belonged to Roman now.
Stretching languorously in Roman’s bed, Jack struggled to rouse himself. He could hear Roman in the bathroom, shutting drawers, moving around and more than likely about to come in and wake him.
Is it also my bed now?
Despite the abundance of love and affection showered on him by Roman—and the way Roman had welcomed him into his home and life—he couldn’t reconcile that the world that Roman inhabited was also Jack’s. He still felt like an invited guest.
It’ll just
take time.
That’s what he’d told Roman, and it was definitely true. It had only been a week since Jack had first said to Roman that he’d be willing to give him a chance, and now here he was, Roman’s live-in lover. He was also sure that the servants eyed him with suspicion. He couldn’t place it exactly, as no one had been outwardly rude, but he sensed that they didn’t agree with Jack’s sudden exalted status at Roman’s estate. Jack had always sought everyone’s approval, and the situation with Roman’s help bothered him.
Maybe I should try to get my own place.
Even as the thought entered his head, he squashed it. Roman would really get sore, and completely come apart if Jack were to even hint at something like that. No, he would just have to get used to it. Maybe that’s all the servants needed too. It wasn’t their fault that Jack suddenly turned up, and according to Roman, needed to be catered to around the clock as well.
Jack wished he could just go downstairs to the kitchen and make himself some coffee, or grab a Coca-Cola from the icebox. He actually had no idea whether there was any pop in the house at all, but it had crossed his mind that it would be nice. So far, it had been nothing but champagne, mineral waters and an endless stream of fancy foods—half of which Jack had never even heard of before.
So far, the weirdest one had been these wet, tiny black dots on small toasts, which Roman had enthused over as being the finest ‘cavvy are’ to be had in the country. Jack had no idea what he’d been talking about, but noted that Roman stared at him intensely when he took his first bite—no doubt anxiously awaiting Jack’s reaction. They had tasted fine—maybe a little too salty—but he could have done without the sliminess. But the best thing he’d had that was new to him were the mangos. He’d loved the dates too, but the yellow fleshy fruit had been so sweet and refreshing. There was also a slight tang that stayed on his tongue after he gobbled a slice, and Roman had made sure that Jack had his fill of mangos every morning.
It also seemed strange that they never went anywhere except to the studio, to Roman’s bedroom and back again. He was sure it wouldn’t be like that forever, that it was just the newness of everything. Roman had told him the day before that he didn’t want to share Jack with anyone for a while, and that it was bad enough that they had to tolerate the peasants on the set every day.
Razzle Dazzle Page 17