Rutledge (Mayfair Model Series Book 3)

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Rutledge (Mayfair Model Series Book 3) Page 17

by Claire Castle


  He fell back on the bed beside me. “I agree. We are pretty amazing together.” He let out a laugh. “I’m becoming you. Egotistical and all.”

  “I wish I could move and congratulate you.” My muscles felt stiff and I knew my ass would hurt tomorrow, but it was worth it to feel like one with him.

  Rutledge went and got a cloth and came back to wipe my back. “I want you to know that being inside you felt like I belonged there.”

  “You do, you belong with me.” I wiped down my chest and abs. “Now come and be the little spoon.”

  He crawled into my arms and we fell asleep. I tried not to weep. I wouldn’t weep. I’d woken up in the night, holding him and looking down at this man that held my heart in his hands. This man who was smart and handsome, who teased and challenged me would be gone soon. This couldn’t be it. I’d only just found him. Could we do this long distance?

  His ass pushed into my groin. “What are you thinking about? I know you’re awake.”

  I tried to make my voice sound happy. “Just what a wonderful man you are and how great the party was.” Not quite a lie.

  He turned and kissed me, his lips felt so soft. “I’m here if you want to talk. But I am glad your birthday was amazing.” Then he rolled back over and closed his eyes.

  Rutledge knew me well enough to realize I wasn’t truly telling him what was on my mind but gave me the chance to have an out.

  “Why are the days so long?” I asked with a pout. “I’m not good at this patience thing.”

  Jules threw some popcorn at me. We were having a girlie movie night and both had on face masks. “You’ll survive. And then your hunky man will be home again.”

  “Who the hell says ‘hunky’ anymore these days?” I questioned her.

  “Oh whatever. He is hunky. And he’ll be back with you so very soon,” she reassured me.

  “I have something to tell you.” My eyes welled up. “But don’t get emotional. And you can’t tell him. Promise?” I held out my pinky thumb.

  “You know I can’t ’til you tell me.”

  I crossed my arms in a huff. “Fine then, I’m not telling you.”

  Then she held out her pinky.

  I connected with it. “I love you very, very much. You know that.”

  “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

  “Wait. We need to take these masks off. I can’t see your facial expressions at all.” So we both got up and went to peel off the masks. “Your skin is glowing, milady.”

  We sat back down and I took a deep breath.

  “You aren’t dying, are you?” she asked, her voice wobbling.

  “No, look, I’ve applied to dance at the Toronto Dance Academy.”

  “What?” Jules jumped up and I couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad or maybe crying.

  “Yes, but don’t tell Rutledge, I mean, they probably don’t even want me, so then what would be the point.”

  “But, but …”

  “I love him. I need to be with him.” I threw my hand over my mouth. “So if I’m there and he’s there. He could get work in New York or Toronto. I know it. Canada is closer to California than London is.”

  She stood there as I held my breath, waiting for her reaction. Tears fell down my face, and my hands were shaking. And then she threw herself at me. “You idiot. I’m so happy for you. I love you. I better have my own room for when I come visit.”

  “Always. I’m scared, Jules. But I know I’d do anything for him.”

  “I know you would.” She moved away, then came back with a tissue and wiped my tears away. “Now come on, we’ll watch this reality television show and make fun of the contestants.”

  I had arranged to meet Marshall for coffee. Rutledge wasn’t home yet but would be soon. He seemed surprised at first that it was me on my own, and then was more than willing.

  Now I sat in the quaint coffee shop wanting to be sick. I sipped the latte and almost spat it out again. That’s what led to me poking my tongue in and out right when Marshall entered. Great.

  “Hey, Ollie. Good to see you.” He gave me a hug when I stood up. “I’ll just go order and be right back.”

  As soon as Marshall returned, I thought again that I might puke.

  “So, I didn’t figure you the type to ever be nervous. What’s up exactly?”

  “Okay.” I squeezed my hands together, deciding to be out with it. “I know you’re like Rutledge’s big brother, so I just want you to know, I’d never do anything to hurt him. Really. I know he’s going home soon, and I don’t know if I can take it.” I tried to hold back tears. “I’ve applied to a dance academy in Canada. I thought if he was working in New York, then we’d be closer.” I looked down and then back up at Marshall. “So I want your blessing.”

  29

  RUTLEDGE

  My last night had arrived and Ollie came over. The past few weeks, we had tried to spend every minute together. If he wasn’t dancing or I wasn’t modelling, we talked and kissed and made love and fucked—for, of course, the two were different. We could just sense what the other wanted, what we needed depending on how we felt. I just loved having him near me. I never wanted to forget his quirks or him.

  I was straddling Ollie and we were completely naked. “I don’t want to …” And then I trailed off, which wasn’t fair. “I’m not going to forget you. Maybe we can …” I didn’t know what to say. How could anyone know what to say to the person they loved that circumstances were going to keep them apart.

  He placed his index finger on my mouth in a shh motion. “Not now. Let’s enjoy every last moment together.”

  I poured every emotion I could into kissing him. “Please Ollie, make love to me.” We’d both gotten tested, and I thought we were ready. It felt right. “No condom.”

  He continued kissing me and rocking me slowly on his lap. Then he reached for the lube, covering his fingers. No words were spoken as he pushed them inside, preparing me. Time seemed to stand still, and I watched every nuance of his movements.

  Tears rolled down my eyes. Of course we could talk about long distance, but I didn’t want to make him wait for me for however long.

  Warm hands caressed my ass and then he positioned me above his cock. Lowering myself down onto Ollie and feeling him inside me was the most perfect thing. He moved under me, slowly, as I grabbed his shoulders and looked behind him. I let out a muffled gasp.

  He was gripping my hips and murmured, “Feel me.”

  Kissing him, I tried not to cry but it was a lost cause. I put my hands on his face and could feel the warmth of tears there too. Brushing them aside, I grabbed my cock. “We’ll come together. One last time. Please.”

  “Yes.” And then I squeezed around Ollie as his come burst into me while I spilled all over his chest. Groans and gasps intermingled as we possessed each other just then. “Mine.” A short time after, we went into the shower and held on to one another.

  I put a record on and as the music filled the air, we danced together, holding each other like people probably did at prom. In bed that night, I looked out the window at the stars and knew what I had to do.

  We’d decided not to say goodbye at the airport. It was too much for both of us. Marshall would take me instead, and while the conversation was strained with my dad, he was going to pick me up. I had arranged to stay with Colby for a while until I figured out what my next move was. When I’d spoken to him on the phone, he was excited for me to be back and for us to hang out again.

  The email I’d sent to Mayfair Models’ management team remained unanswered, though I’d checked my phone a million times. Brenna said I needed to give it a few more days. I shook my head though I knew she was right.

  A note flashed up on my screen that I had a voicemail. Crap, I never even checked that. I hated using the phone unless I had to. Send me a text any time.

  A deep voice came over my phone as I waited for Marshall to pick me up. I had a few bags of luggage, but anything else would be sent back via a ship I was told—jus
t like when I arrived.

  “Mr. Flynn, this is Detective Sims. I was working on your case. CCTV footage helped us to apprehend the two men who assaulted you. Now, they are responsible and will be charged, that much is certain, but they are adamant that a man with an American accent paid them money to, in their words, ‘rough you up.’ Please contact me if you have any idea who that might be.”

  The phone dropped from my hand as I slid down the wall. Tears welled up. Different tears than the ones I’d shed for leaving Ollie. No, these were a mix of anger and sadness. Could my father have done this? I didn’t want to think of the possibility.

  Then I thought back to just after it had happened. He’d phoned me right out of the blue and asked if I was coming home now. At the time, I didn’t fully think about it. No, maybe it was me that was mistaken. Who would do that to their son? My tears seemed to pour from an endless spout with no Off switch. And then I wanted to punch the wall. I wasn’t a violent person, but fucking hell, I was pissed off. I should phone him and confront him.

  Then Marshall was there. “What is it? You look like shit.”

  “Thanks. You are a good friend,” I said. I knew I looked terrible. Puffy eyes and red face. Then I hit Play again on the message.

  Marshall was shaking and looked raged. I couldn’t blame him.

  “It’s … I think it’s my father.” Then I dialled his number and put it on speakerphone.

  “Son, is your flight delayed?”

  “No.” I tried to sound calm. “The police have been in contact and I’ve just received a message from them. Apparently, someone hired two thugs to rough me up.”

  “I was worried it would come to this. It really happened.” He was mumbling to himself as if he’d forgotten I was there.

  Holy shit. Anger bubbled up inside me. “What did you just say? How do you know anything about it?”

  “Rutledge, when I tried to phone you since you’ve been away …” He trailed off.

  “Yes, we spoke and you had plenty of opportunities to tell me something.”

  “I should have warned you. It’s true. To tell you to stay safe. But I didn’t really think anything would happen.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore, Dad. You should learn to treat me like an adult. I don’t know what you could possibly say to make this better.”

  He started crying into the phone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Rutledge, I didn’t tell you. Tried to shelter you. I have some debt, lots of debt. Gambling debt. I know there’s no excuse, but it just got more and more out of control. And the guy I owe money to, he threatened me. He found out you won the modelling contract along with the sum of prize money and threatened to go after you.” He let out a heavy sigh.

  And then silence. I looked at Marshall, not sure what to say. It was a lot of information to take in. “Gambling?” I said through gritted teeth. “You risked your life, my life for a gambling debt?”

  “I sold as much as I could. Did what I could. I never thought they’d actually do anything, especially since I told them I’d make sure they got their money.” His voice sounded empty and depleted.

  “And you still owe them, him, whomever the money, I take it?” I was seething by now and somehow knew the answer before he spoke. I rarely got overly angry. I thought back over the times he’d tried to call since I arrived here. I was sure he was going to lecture me on being gay and demand I return home but I listened each time. He could have told me.

  “Yes, I think I can get it together though. I was going to tell you when you came home.”

  “Were you really? Or was it just because you were caught?” I bit out.

  “Give me another chance. I never meant for this to happen. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

  “I need time. I’m postponing my flight home.” Then I hit End on the call.

  “Wow, that was intense. Come here.” Marshall pulled me over into his arms for a hug.

  Suddenly I was exhausted and I collapsed with my full weight into him.

  “It will be okay,” I heard him murmur.

  I wasn’t sure what time it was when I woke up. Opening my eyes, I saw Ollie snoozing next to my bed. “Oh, you’re awake. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. Marshall told me about the phone call. That must have been a shock.”

  Gasping, I reached for him. “Please, just hold me. I just need you.”

  “Yes, I’m here for you.” He gathered me in his arms and rocked me like a small child.

  “Where’s Marshall?”

  “Went home. I took over. You’ve been sleeping for hours.”

  “Thank you. I am mentally exhausted. What about the flight?”

  “I think Marshall called them. You have up to six months to book something else. Don’t worry, okay? Just cry, yell, whatever you need, and remember I’m here.”

  “I need only you. Thank you for being here.”

  He left and reappeared with a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. “Here. You need to eat something.”

  I didn’t feel particularly hungry, but it smelled delicious, so I took a few bites. “Mmm, thank you. Did you make this?”

  He did sort of a bow. “I did. Amazing, I know.” Then I checked my phone. There was one from Gareth Evans, the head of the modelling agency. “Here, read this. I can’t.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just do as I tell you for once,” I laughed. “Top email.”

  He took the phone and opened the email:

  Dear Mr. Flynn,

  We are pleased to offer you a five-year contract with Mayfair Models. Starting September 1, 2020, you will officially be employed with our agency. Your work has been exemplary and your portfolio is superb.

  Please sign the …

  Ollie dropped my phone on the duvet cover before finishing. “Oh, my god.” He jumped up almost spilling my soup over. “You’re staying. You’re …” He sat down on the floor and started to cry.

  Then Marshall was back and came running through to the bedroom. “Is everything okay? Is this happy or sad crying?” He looked at Ollie. “Did you tell him about Toronto or—?”

  I sat up straighter. “Toronto? What?”

  “I applied to a dance school there to be closer to you. I mean, I know you hadn’t figured out what you were doing, but I needed to be near you. I was going to tell you when I heard back.”

  My eyes got soft as I looked at him. I brushed my thumb on his cheek. “You’d … you were going to do that for me?” Tears fell. Not angry or sad ones, but tears of joy. I melted into him, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I asked Mayfair Models if they were interested in keeping me on, that’s why they sent that email.”

  Marshall spoke up. “So wait”—he pointed to Ollie—“you were going to go to America and”—he pointed to me—“you were trying to stay here.” His head moved back and forth between us. “Awww.” He threw his hand over his mouth. “Shit. I sound like Stuart. Speaking of which, he wants to know if you guys want to come round for dinner later. And if you need anything.”

  I looked at Ollie and smiled, and he nodded. “Yes, that would be wonderful. We’ll come round at … I have no idea what time it is … let’s say, six, if that works.”

  He came over and hugged me. “Glad to see you smiling.” And then he left.

  “So, you’re staying?” Ollie asked, sounding anxious. “I mean staying in the UK.”

  “Yes, yes.” I clapped my hands. “I need you. I love you. I’ll go in and talk to them. I might have to spend time away like I do now, but yes, this will be my home base. With you.”

  He leaned into me and closed his hand around my neck, bringing me into a kiss. “This is the best news ever. My home is with you.”

  The next month, after everything had settled down, I spoke to Colby and explained to him that my home was wherever Ollie was, and that I needed to stay here in the UK and wouldn’t be moving in with him. He was completely understanding. And then I told him about my dad. “He says he’s going to fix his mess and that he’s
seeking help to get his gambling under control. We’ll see—maybe one day that will be true.”

  “Wow, I had no idea. That’s crazy. I can’t believe this happened because of his gambling! Please stay safe and stay in touch. I want to meet your man one day.”

  “Oh, you will. Maybe you can come and visit or we’ll come back there. I will, for sure, but it might be too overwhelming for him until I’ve sorted things out with my dad.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.”

  I heard a knock at the door. “Oh, I better go, but we’ll keep in touch.” When I opened the door, I stood there in stunned silence at who was standing there. My dad. It was my dad.

  “Rutledge, can I come in?”

  I moved from the door to let him pass and pointed to the living room. “Can I get you a drink?” I was still in shock and working on autopilot. Be polite to guests.

  “No, it’s fine. Not right now. I just need to clear the air with you, and in person was the only way.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay. Why didn’t you call to say you were coming?” Even as I said it, it felt fake in my own head.

  “Would you have let me?” he questioned.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Exactly. I just need to talk to you. So, can you give me some of your time? I want to explain some things.”

  I nodded and wished Ollie was here, just to hold him and have his support. But that wasn’t fair, either, to involve him in my family mess. In that moment, I thought back to him with Jasper and how they’d reconciled their differences. “Okay.”

  “First, I want to say that if you’re happy here, I’m happy for you. I want you to have a good life and be happy.”

  Tears threatened to fall from the corners of my eyes. “I am. I really am, Dad.”

  “I made some really stupid mistakes, and I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me right now, but I will never forgive myself for putting your life at risk. I stupidly thought that if you were home, safe with me, I could make it all better. I know that was wrong. You have your own life now.”

 

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