Chapter 11

Acivilised conversation.

What the hell was going on? What alternate universe had I stepped into?

I’d arrived at Barbara’s house in the late afternoon and had definitely not been expecting to see Simon there.

When Barbara had called me a week or so ago, I’d listened to what she had to say, more than aware of what she’d offered before, but she assured me this was nothing more than she needed a massage. She’d been having problems, and finding someone reliable and as good as me was proving difficult.

I’d thought at length about it and initially had said no. I had clients and obligations. I couldn’t just drop everything, but when Cyril came on the call and told me how much money he was offering, I’d have been stupid to turn it down. Money wasn’t the be-all and end-all, but it went a long way to making my life more bearable.

“Just a few days. I’m sure you can rearrange your diary for me, darling Duke,” Barbara had pleaded. How could I let one of my favourite clients down in her hour of need?

And that’s how I found myself sitting across the table from a man I swore would kill me, given the chance. Except right now, I definitely wasn’t getting that vibe from him.

“So, what brings you here? Other than giving Barbara the massage of her life.”

“She asked nicely.”

“Can’t be just that.”

“Why are you here?” Stupid fucking question. I knew why he was here.

In her call, Barbara had explained they were filming a movie and not to be surprised when I got here. She even asked if I’d be prepared to give a few of the stars a massage. I was fine with that as long as nothing more was expected from me.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You know what I do for a living, right?”

“I do.” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Please don’t ask me. Please don’t ask me.

“Have you watched any of my movies?”

And…there it was.

“Do I have to answer that?”

“I think you just did. Go on, what did you think?”

“Seriously? You’re asking me if I’ve watched you fuck?”

“I guess.”

“You’ll be asking me to give you points next for performance and stamina?”

“No need. I’m always a ten.”

I laughed. I’d thought I was cocky.

“I could do with a massage, though. The flight over was cramped as hell. I sat with my knees around my ears. Economy class travel is not for me.”

“What, you didn’t fly first class?” I asked. With his money, he could have afforded it.

“I didn’t see the point. It’s a couple of hours at most.”

“I mean, I could probably fit you in. I’m here for a few days, and Barbara won’t take up all of my time.”

She’d mentioned taking me sightseeing, maybe driving into Italy as it was so nearby. I’d planned on using the beach—well-protected, mind. Flying over the sea, it had looked clear and blue.

It was nothing like the sea at home, and I recalled family holidays in Blackpool where the sea was so brown I wouldn’t even paddle my feet for fear of catching something.

I’m sure it was clean, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

“That’d be great, thanks,” he said, his speech slightly slurred, yet he hadn’t touched his drink.

I watched as he yawned and stretched, noticing then how tired he looked.

“Keeping you up?”

“Let’s just say the past few weeks have been trying. Robbie has been on one, and when he gets like that, it’s draining. Constant calls and texts. I hate not answering him, but sometimes I have to for my own sanity.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.”

He looked at me. A flash of the old, hateful Simon surfaced, and I waited for the tirade that was sure to follow.

Instead, he stood. “Nice talking to you, Duke. I’ll hold you to the massage.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He walked towards Barbara, and I watched their exchange with interest. She flirted as usual, but Simon looked different. I’d seen the fire in his belly when he was worked up, usually at me, but now it was as if a wash of exhaustion had flowed over him.

He could barely put one foot in front of the other as he made his way into the house.

What the fuck was I doing? I stood and followed, watching him struggle with his case and camera bag.

“Here, let me help you. You look dead on your feet.” I reached for his bag.

“I’m good, really. I can manage.”

“Simon, take the help when it’s offered, okay?”

With no further argument, he handed me his case and led the way upstairs.

“Which is your room?” I asked. Did he know where he was going?

“Barbara said I was in Byron. What did she mean?”

“Yeah, apparently the house belonged to a writer, and he named all the rooms. See? Keats, Austen, Dickens, Flaubert. Who the hell is Flaubert?”

“He wrote Madam Bovary.”

I looked at him, shocked. “Who now?”

“What? I can’t love literature? It’s a famous book.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Again with the insults to my intelligence.”

“Simon, that’s not…”

“I’m joking. Chill the fuck out. I’m too tired to argue tonight.”

“Here, you’re next to me. I’m in Tolstoy.”

“War and Peace. Seems apt for us, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think we’ve got to the peace bit yet.”

I opened the door and ushered him inside, where he promptly collapsed on the bed, face first.

Placing his bags by the wardrobe, I stood in the doorway. What did I do now? I felt bad for just leaving him.

“I’m going to go. I’ll be next door if you need me.” What the fuck was I saying? Why would he need me?

He said nothing as I backed out of the room and closed the door.

I let out a breath. That was weird as fuck.

Not wanting the night to be over yet, I made my way back to the terrace where a guitar had appeared, played by the Asian bartender.

I sat at the edge of the terrace overlooking the sea, the pale moon reflecting in the water. A cool breeze brought the temperature down a degree or two, but I didn’t mind. The soft sounds of the guitar suited the calmness of the ocean.

How had I got here? From the broken boy I’d been, to the prostitute, to the Duke of here and now. Sitting on the patio surrounded by people who probably made more in a week than I made in a year. I included Simon in that assumption. If what he said was true and he had funded Robbie’s treatment and bought the house, he wasn’t doing too badly.

In some instances, sex paid, but not for me. I’d have gladly traded those years on the street for a normal life. I couldn’t deny that it’d made me the person I was today. Guilt still ate at me for what happened to Robbie. Shame that I’d done nothing to bring my uncle the justice he deserved after abusing me. Regret I’d not returned home then, but how could I? My aunt hadn’t believed me. Why would anyone else?

“Are you okay?” Barbara sat down next to me, and the thought that I rarely got to speak to her with her clothes on brought a smile to my face.

“I’m good. Thank you for inviting me here. It really is beautiful.”

“You’re welcome, and I know you think I want more from you, but I don’t. You’ve always been so kind to me. I can tell you’ve lived a life even at your young age. I’ve always said to Cyril that we should do something to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, Barbara. You don’t know me from Adam.”

“That may be, but I see something in you. A sadness when you think no one is looking. You put on a good show of hiding it, but I see it. Let me help you. Let us help you.”

I didn’t understand what she wanted from me.

“There’s nothing I need. I’m happy with my life.”

And I was, mostly. Sure, there were things I could’ve changed, but those were in my past. I had everything I needed now.

“Well, you know where I am if that ever changes. But why don’t you tell me about Simon?”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Seemed to me like you had a lot of history, despite what you said.”

“Can we do this another time?” As much as I appreciated her concern, I really wasn’t ready to unpack my relationship with Simon. Hell, even I didn’t know what it was all about.

First we were friends, then he hated me and now… I wasn’t sure where we were.

She patted my knee before struggling to stand.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just these old bones. You know how they get. That’s what you’re here for, to get me moving.”

I wasn’t sure that’s all it was. While she seemed her normal self, I could see her struggling more than usual. I was no doctor, but I’d do what I could, and if I felt there was something else, I’d tell her.

“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to head to bed. What time do you want me to work my magic?”

“Shall we say eleven? We film early, taking advantage of the cooler weather. As soon as it creeps towards midday, it’ll be much hotter. I’ll meet you at the gym. I have a room set up especially.”

“Sounds good to me. You get your rest.”

I leant forward to kiss her cheek, feeling her paper-thin skin beneath my lips. Old age stole so much from us, and memories of my own grandparents sprung to mind. Gone for many years now, I remembered my mum’s parents. They were always loving, looking after me and Isla when we were much younger. We’d never met Dad’s parents with them living in Jamaica. Dad had flown over for their funerals when they’d passed, the rest of us staying home.

“Goodnight, Duke. We’ll have plenty of time to talk over the next few days. I promised to take you to see the sights. I have friends in Monte Carlo we could visit. You’ll love it there.”

“I’m sure I will.”

My room was pleasantly cool when I entered, but I opened the doors that led to the small balcony anyway. A bit of fresh air hurt no one.

I was about to step out when I heard a hushed voice.

“Do what you can for him. Make him comfortable, please.” Simon paused before speaking again. “You know how he gets, and yes, I know how hard it’s been for him this time around. He was our last hope.”

I gathered he was talking about Robbie, but to whom? His parents? Carlos?

Not wishing to seem nosey, I turned off the light, throwing the room into darkness, barely lit by the moonlight playing hide and seek with the clouds.

I undressed, folding my clothes neatly. I’d not yet unpacked but would do that tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.

I lay naked under the thin sheet, feeling the soft cotton rub gently against my skin as I moved around. It felt good, and my cock stirred.

It’d been a few days since I’d last paid it any attention. My once healthy sex life had dwindled to barely anything. Since moving back to Liverpool, my pool of willing bodies had disappeared, leaving me with nothing but my hand for company, and even then, finding the inclination or the energy to do anything about it was difficult.

Tonight, though, knowing Simon was next door, my cock was more than willing.

I reached down and touched myself, stroking the underside of my dick. It swelled, tenting the fabric. Not wanting to sully the sheets, I shucked it down to my knees, baring my dick to the cool night air.

I could still hear Simon whispering outside and the soft music from the terrace below.

I wondered what would happen if I ventured out onto the balcony. Would he see me? Did I want him to?

Stupid fucking question. Of course I did. It had always been a fantasy of mine that he’d find me when I’d stay over, that he’d take me in his hand, making me come.

That image filled my head now, only we were no longer young. He was as he was now.

Tall and fit with dark-blond hair, messy from exertion. His brilliant blue eyes bore into me as he stroked me, and I whimpered at his touch.

Did I make that sound out loud? Could he hear me?

I didn’t care. This was my fantasy.

I raised my hips from the bed and tightened my grip, thrusting through the circle of my hand.

“That’s it, baby,” he said. “I love it when you moan my name. Say it, Duke. Say my name.”

“Simon,” I said, breathless, as I chased the orgasm, stopping when I got close. It couldn’t be over yet.

I squeezed tighter, grunting as I edged closer to my release. Pumping it harder and harder, my buttocks clenched as I fucked my own hand. Precum made it slick; my foreskin pulled back, exposing the dark head of my cock.

“Fuck, yeah,” I said through gritted teeth. My legs straightened, and I flexed my toes as I neared my release. A moment longer, that’s all I needed.

I held my breath as my stomach muscles contracted. Here was me hoping for a quick wank, but this was sapping my energy, taking everything I had.

My hand blurred until finally, I erupted. Ropes of cum shot out of my dick, landing on my neck and chest. Spurt after spurt hit me, each one progressively weaker until there was nothing left but a slow trickle of spunk.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Pounding in my chest made me realise how fucking hard I’d worked for that orgasm.

I wondered how loud I’d been. Had I shouted out when I came? I didn’t know. As long as I hadn’t called out Simon’s name, I was good.

I found a wipe from my bag and cleaned myself as best I could. The rooms didn’t have ensuite facilities, and right now, I didn’t fancy making the walk down the hallway to the bathroom.

Simon was no longer talking, and soft murmurs came from below. Even though it was still early, my bed beckoned.

I fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of the waves breaking on the shore below.

A sudden banging woke me with a start. At first, I thought I was back in Liverpool. Some nights, the sound of gunshots rang out, swiftly followed by sirens.

This was different.

The sound of people saying good night and the slamming of doors had woken me, and I cursed them, only then realising it wasn’t that late at all. Barely midnight.

But now I needed to pee.

I slipped on a pair of shorts and opened the door just enough that I could see out.

The dimly lit hallway was clear as far as I could tell, the door to the bathroom a couple of doors down. I tiptoed towards it, not wishing to make too much noise.

I glanced around me before turning the handle and pushing it open.

There, in all his nakedness, stood Simon.

Fuck it. I might have guessed.