Chapter 10

The flight from Liverpool to Nice had taken no time at all, barely enough time to sell the duty-free booze and overpriced snacks.

The staff were pleasant enough, despite having to deal with a rowdy gang of lads wanting to drink their body weight in beer. In hindsight, it hadn’t been the best idea. The budget airline seats could barely contain my swimmer’s shoulders and definitely didn’t offer any legroom for someone of my height.

I couldn’t wait to stretch my legs.

Once landed, I grabbed my carry-on from the overhead locker and fought my way through the crowds to the exit.

True to their word, the studio had sent a car to collect me, and the quick journey took me along the coastal road to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, an idyllic setting close to Monaco. The scenery and weather were stunningly beautiful.

Dex had promised me it’d be a few hours of work each day, if that, and I’d brought my camera along, hoping to explore the incredible scenery.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as the warm air flooded the car. As much as I loved England and LA, here would be where I placed my roots.

I’d visited several times, and the climate, the people…the mood of this place made it feel like home.

“Monsieur Fletcher, we are here.” The French accent was certainly sexy, even if the man driving the car wasn’t.

I got out of the car, gazing at my surroundings, my eyes drawn to the vibrant colours around me: the blue of the sea, the cloudless skies, the shocking pink of the bougainvillea against the stark white of the house it clung to. I was itching to take pictures, to add to my growing portfolio.

“You must be Simon. How wonderful to meet you.” A white-haired lady stepped out of the considerable house to greet me, her long, flowing cotton dress as bright as the flowers that dotted the impressive garden. It was difficult to pinpoint her age, but she was getting on in years, I’d wager.

“And you must be Barbara.” She swept me into a tight hug, surprising considering her slim stature.

“Cyril and I were so pleased when you said yes to our proposition. We have loved watching your career grow…amongst other things.” She released me. I didn’t miss the twinkle in her eye as she smiled.

“I see you have a naughty side, Barbara.”

But I guess you needed to when you worked in the porn industry.

“Oh, if only you knew.” She took my arm and led me into the house. It was gorgeous.

Black-and-white tiled floors, light wooden panelling on the walls and vase upon vase of flowers. I admired the antique furniture and the sweeping staircase in the middle of the expansive hallway, barely listening to Barbara chatter as she led me through the house and onto the bright sunlit terrace overlooking the sea.

“…and if you go down those stairs at the edge of the terrace, it’ll take you down to the secluded, private beach. Feel free to shed every stitch of clothing. No one is a stranger when you are here.”

The paved area was spacious. People sat at the tables talking, eating, drinking, but most of all, laughing. Despite my usual outgoing nature, shyness overcame me, something I’d not felt in a long time.

I took a deep breath and tried to relax, not realising how tense I’d become, not just today but in the previous months.

“I’ll introduce you to everyone in time, but let’s get you a drink first. Travelling is so tiresome, don’t you think?” She handed me a glass of something pink, chinking our glasses. “Bottoms up!”

She drank deeply, a flush creeping to her cheeks.

I followed suit and almost choked at the amount of alcohol that laced it. Since that night when I’d met up with Duke, I’d steered clear, unwilling to experience the hangover. As usual, I’d vowed never to drink again, and until today, not a drop had touched my lips.

“Packs a punch, wouldn’t you say?” A clipped British accent sounded to my left, and I turned to see a man, similar in age to Barbara, approach. He slipped his arm around her tiny waist. Ah, this must be her husband, Cyril. I believed him to be in his eighties, but he didn’t look a day over sixty-five. I could only hope I looked as good at his age, assuming I reached it.

I blew out a breath. “It certainly does. What on earth is in it?” It was strong but sweet, very palatable but dangerous. Any more than two would knock even a seasoned drinker on their arse.

“We find it best not to ask,” Barbara said and glanced over at an attractive Asian man standing behind a wooden bar tucked in the corner. “He makes THE best cocktails, and he’s not too bad on the eye either.”

She raised her glass to him, and he smiled back at her, showing an impressive set of white teeth.

“He’s also not bad in front of the camera, if you get my meaning,” Cyril added, and I wondered if everyone here tonight was involved in their films. “I’m more than sure he’d be happy to accompany you one evening, if you so choose to.”

I tried not to choke on my drink. What the hell kind of house was this? Had I stumbled into a den of debauchery and iniquity?

“Tut, tut, Simon. Don’t be such a prude.” Barbara laughed and took my arm again. “Let me introduce you.”

Two good-looking, dark-haired men sat on a love seat, arms draped around each other’s shoulders, several empty glasses on the table beside them. They smiled broadly as we approached.

“This is Troy and his husband, Finn. They’re the stars of the movie you’ll be starring in. We originally wanted you to just be an innocent bystander, but I wonder if we couldn’t utilise your talents more. What do you think?”

I panicked. That wasn’t what we’d agreed.

“I think we’ll just stick to what’s in the contract. I wouldn’t want to confuse matters.” Not only that, but they weren’t my type, and with how things were currently, I had no wish to embarrass myself.

I nodded politely at them and watched as their hands wandered.

“We like people to feel at home here in our house,” Barbara continued, steering me away from the now kissing couple. “Everything and anything goes if you want it to. Cyril and me, we’re children of the sixties. Free love and all that.”

I saw what she meant. As the sun started its descent and the daylight faded, more people were coupling up. Who were these people?

By now, Cyril had rejoined us. “Just relax while you’re here. You look tense. We just want you to have a good time and earn a little money too.”

Pretty sure he didn’t mean charging for my services, or at least I didn’t think he did. They had agreed to a hefty sum of money for my appearance.

Again, being a porn star didn’t mean I was fair game. I had some standards.

“Oh, and here is the most important man here this weekend. Do you know he gives the most amazing massages? Cyril here had to tempt him with an inordinate amount of money. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

She grabbed my arm and dragged me back over to the house, squeezing between tables and chairs before standing in front of a man who was currently becoming the bane of my life.

“Simon. I want you to meet Duke. He has the most wonderful hands, and isn’t he just the handsomest person you’ve ever seen? He’s turned down all our offers. I think he’s waiting for the perfect partner.”

We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but in fact was mere seconds.

He nodded briefly. “Simon.”

“Duke.”

Smart cookie she was, Barbara sensed the tension brewing between us.

“Do you two know each other?”

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Duke said. I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, which is it, boys?”

Duke spoke first. “We do know each other or did many years ago. We’ve barely spoken in fifteen years.”

“Then it’s high time you reconnected.” Barbara pushed us together, thinking for all the world that she was helping.

He smelt good though, and he looked fucking hot in his white linen shorts and fuchsia pink shirt. There was no denying his mixed heritage. His caramel-coloured skin looked smooth, and his brown eyes shone in the fading daylight.

Standing chest to chest once again, my cock stirred in my shorts. Could he feel it? His eyes widened, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Should we?” he asked.

I looked at him, wondering what he meant. “What?”

“Reconnect. Barbara seems to think it’s a good idea.”

Is that what he wanted? Was it what I wanted?

“I think it’s a marvellous idea.” Barbara beamed at us, thinking she’d made the perfect match. We were anything but.

“Oh, Cyril, I need another drink. Let’s go get one.”

Subtlety wasn’t one of her strong points, and we were left staring at each other, neither of us knowing what to do.

“What are you doing here?” Duke asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Pretty sure it’s not the reason you think,” he snapped back.

“Since when can you read my mind?” I’m glad he couldn’t. He might see things he hadn’t bargained for.

“Why would I want to?” Duke tilted his head, questioning.

“Worried what you might find?” Probably images of him and our last encounter and how I’d made a complete fool of myself.

My bravado faded a little at the thought.

“I think I know what would be in there,” he said cockily.

“I guarantee you have no idea what goes on in my head.”

“Other than your deep, unresolved anger at me? Probably not a lot.”

I was going to knock that fucking smile from his face.

“You think you know me, but you don’t. You think I’m this sexed-up porn star with nothing on my mind but my next fuck. You couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Why was I even trying to explain myself to him? He wasn’t worth my time.

He stepped back as if I’d burnt him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…”

“What? Insult my intelligence? You wouldn’t be the first.”

“You always were the clever one.”

“Well, you and Robbie didn’t have two brain cells to rub together when you were kids. Someone had to teach you right from wrong.”

He bit his lip, his hands deep in his pockets.

“How is he?” He refused to look at me. I guess guilt made you do that.

I was about to tell him it was none of his business, but something had changed in him. Gone was the usual cockiness, and instead of flipping him off, I indicated a free table.

A couple of drinks appeared out of nowhere, the Asian bartender winking as he left. Where the hell had he come from?

He sat across the table from me, and I could feel the warmth of his skin as his knee brushed against mine.

“He’s having a bad time. The last doctor we spoke to had high hopes of getting him to walk, but the damage was more severe than he thought. Times like this, he sinks into depression. It’s difficult to deal with, but he has Carlos and my parents.”

“Who’s Carlos?”

“His physio. More like a companion really. They’re good friends, and he tells Robbie like it is. He was always mouthy.”

“Yeah, I remember that. I lost count of the amount of times it got us into trouble.”

“Hey, you did your fair share. You weren’t exactly shy and retiring. Always late getting out of school because one or other of you was in detention.”

Duke chuckled before lifting his glass to his lips and grimacing.

“Tastes like shit, am I right?”

“What the fuck is it?” He placed the glass on the table and pushed it away from him.

“Some weird concoction.” I reached into a bucket full of water bottles and handed one to him. “This better?”

“Much. Thank you.” He cracked the lid and drank deeply, tilting his head back. I let my eyes to roam over the smooth neck, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with every mouthful.

As much as I wanted to hate him, the lines were blurring. I stared at him, not bothered that he was doing the same.

“Tell me about you.” I wanted to know what had got him to where he was.

“It’s a long story. One that started fifteen years ago. Not sure this is the time or the place. Tell me about Robbie.”

Robbie was a sore subject, and his request picked at the scab covering the wound in my heart.

“Robbie does as well as he can. He hates being in the wheelchair, but he’s learnt to adapt. We moved to a more suitable house. He has the downstairs to himself, with a bedroom, a wet room and a gym.”

“Wow. Your parents get a grant or something? That couldn’t have been cheap.”

“I paid for it. I pay for everything. The mortgage, Carlos, the expensive treatments. I did it all.”

“You must love him very much. I remember how close you were when we were younger. I envied you.”

“Sometimes I hate the fucker, but he’s my brother and I do what I can to make his life more comfortable. He’s an ungrateful prick at times, though. Makes me want to smack him upside the head.”

“You used to do that to us both.” He rubbed his head as if he could still feel it.

“That’s because you were brats.”

“I grew out of that. I wouldn’t let anyone get away with it these days.”

“Is that so? Didn’t I knock you on your backside a few months ago?”

“Lucky shot. I wasn’t ready. I’ve fought my way out of tougher situations before. I’m more of a lover now, not a fighter.” His smile was unreadable.

I snorted. He was cocky; I’d give him that.

His eyes met mine, and I began to wonder if I’d give him more if he asked.