Chapter 17

Icould tell from the look on his face he was worrying, and although I really wanted to take more time with him, if I waited any longer, he’d be so far into his head he wouldn’t go through with it.

His hole fluttered, the skin puckering as it waited for me.

I lined myself up and slowly but surely edged forward. There was resistance at first, but I almost came there and then as he opened up for me. Fuck yeah.

A sharp intake of breath from Simon, followed by a whimper, and I was in, the worst part over. I gave him a moment, feeling the tightness and warmth surrounding my cock.

I wanted to ram into him over and over, but now wasn’t the time for that. Hopefully another day, we could go wild. I got the impression he’d never had slow sex like this, and from what he’d said, he had broken into the porn industry shortly after turning eighteen.

Had anyone ever taken the time? I doubted it very much.

Taking it as my job to give him as sensual a fuck as I could, I spoke to him, my voice low.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Look at me, Simon. I want to see you as you take me.”

The blue eyes that had been squeezed shut now opened and peeked out from behind his blond eyelashes.

“That’s right. Keep them on me.” I held on to his ankles.

They never left mine as I gradually edged my way into him. He’d not taken much stretching, but he was still tight enough to make even me catch my breath.

I fell forward onto my hands, keeping my weight off him, my lips an inch from his. I pushed home and kissed him as his breath caught, giving him my own.

He relaxed, finally, and moaned.

“So fucking good.”

Moving as leisurely as I could, I rolled my hips, driving deeper with each thrust.

His groans became louder as I hit his prostate over and over again, my stomach rubbing against his still hard cock.

I rested my forehead on his, both of us slick with sweat.

I stopped and repositioned us, me kneeling, Simon’s ankles resting on my shoulders, my hands on his shins.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Better than okay.” He looked drunk. His eyes drooped and his speech was slurred, but I knew it was euphoria he was feeling.

I felt it too the more I fucked him. I quickened my pace, the sweat now dripping onto his body.

His hand reached for his cock, and he wanked himself, his hand blurring. He clenched his arse, his ring tightening on my dick.

“Fuck, Simon. Do that again.”

He smiled wickedly and did it several times over, each time bringing me closer to coming.

Sex used to be my life, and I’d never wanted for it until he came into my life again, and nothing had been the same since. Constantly wanting everyone to be him.

Taking him now, fucking him deep, was all the encouragement I needed, and with a shout, my release hit me harder than it had in a while. I felt like a two-pump chump, but being inside him had been the best feeling.

He tightened again, milking my cock of every drop of spunk, filling the condom.

I refused to stop, waiting for him, and I didn’t have to wait long. With a grunt and the tightening of his abs, he came. The veins in his face and neck telling me just how hard he’d worked for his release.

Both soaking wet from the exertion, neither of us had enough energy to move, and I collapsed on top of him. An ‘oof’ leaving him.

“Jesus, Duke.”

“I can’t move,” I said, my boneless limbs unable to take my weight. My now soft dick had slipped out of him, the condom hanging off the end.

That needed getting rid of, and the cold stickiness between us would set soon enough, leaving our pubes like Velcro.

As much as I wanted to stay here, a clean-up was in order.

I lifted myself up on one elbow and looked down at the hand still holding his dick, wondering if he had another round in him later.

My yearning for sex was returning, even though I was spent.

I dropped my lips to his, entering his mouth with my tongue. He gripped the back of my head and kissed me deeply.

I’d wanted this for so long. Teenage Duke would have been pleased.

He broke the kiss and sighed, his head lolling to the side.

“Thank you,” he said softly, and he closed his eyes, a smile on his face.

“No sleeping. Not yet anyway.”

I peeled myself off him and searched the room for something to clean him off with, finding a balled-up T-shirt on the floor.

That would have to do. The condom had fallen off and lay discarded on the bed, cum dribbling from it. Fuck there was a lot, but then it had been a while.

While Simon lay sated on the bed, I tidied around him, wiping him down and disposing of the wrapper until all was clean.

Unsure of what to do, I reached for my discarded clothes, ready to leave his room, much as he’d done the night before.

“Don’t leave me. Get in, there’s plenty of room.”

“I thought you were asleep.” I threw back the thin cotton sheet and climbed in next to him, pulling it over us. Even though the night was still warm, the cool sheet offered some respite.

“I was pretending. Waiting for you to do the clean-up.” He laughed, fully awake now.

“I bet you usually have a clean-up crew.”

“Um, not exactly.”

“Well, you can do it next time.”

“So there’ll be a next time?”

Would there? That remained to be seen. Who knew what would happen when we returned home? He might fly off to LA again, or he could never want to see me again.

“That kind of depends,” I said truthfully.

“On me or you?”

“On us both? Let’s not rush into anything. You hated me last week.”

“Who says I still don’t?”

“What the…?”

“I’m kidding. Chill, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be honest, though. It might take a while for me to forgive you completely.”

His words had the effect of drenching the moment we’d shared with ice-cold water. How could he still blame me? I’d told him, and no doubt Robbie had as well. It wasn’t my fault.

“And that’s why it probably shouldn’t happen again.” My previous high faded to nothing, wondering if we had done the right thing.

We lay silently, side by side, both lost in our own thoughts. How could I be with a man who couldn’t forgive me for something that happened when I was young?

“I don’t hate you, and I don’t blame you any more for what happened.” His voice was hardly a whisper.

“I lost everything that night, Simon.” Perhaps it was time to tell him my story. Maybe then he could start to forgive me.

And I wanted him to forgive me in his own mind so we could move on to whatever this could be.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I know you didn’t return home often or for a long time. Help me understand.” He turned to look at me, a serious look on his face.

At least he was willing to listen.

But where to start? I took myself back to that night fifteen years ago, the fear and dread returning tenfold. I’d never forget it.

“I knew we’d done wrong. Not saying it was my fault, but I did dare Robbie to climb on the roof. You know what he was like more than anyone. Always wanting to impress and be one of the lads. If I hadn’t done that, all our lives would have been different.”

“I don’t think we’d be here in this bed, that’s for sure.”

I had to agree. Our lives would have taken a completely different turn of events. Robbie would be doing God knows what, and I certainly wouldn’t have ended up selling my body to every Tom, Dick or Harriet that had the money.

“I went home, already planning my escape. Mum asked me to work in the pub for a while, and when I heard a couple of men talking about Robbie’s accident, I knew I had to leave that night. You’d already threatened me with the police. I didn’t want to wait around any longer.”

“I was angry. My brother almost died.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I said, hurt by his words. “But when someone you look up to and admire tells you that you’ll see the inside of a prison cell for what you did, what would you have done?”

“I have no words.” Muted chatter could be heard from the terrace below, but I felt like we were in a bubble, reliving that night over again.

“I took what little money I had, a backpack full of clothes and headed to my aunt’s place in Liverpool. I thought I could lie low there for a few days, maybe a week, then return home when things died down a little.

“When I found out that Robbie was in a bad way, I stayed away longer. I didn’t want to face up to what I’d done, and there was no way I could visit him. I didn’t know it was to be the worst decision of my life.”

“Why? What happened?”

“My uncle happened. Aunt Deb’s husband was a predator and especially liked boys. At first, I thought I was imagining it. A stray hand here and there, a touch he always apologised for, but they became more and more frequent. I swear Aunt Deb saw him do it, but she’d just smile and say he’d always wanted a son and hugged me, saying how glad she was I was staying with them.”

“God, Duke. I didn’t know.”

“No one did. I never told a soul, but the moment he came into my room and pinned me to the bed, his hand over my mouth, I knew it was time to leave.”

“Did he…?”

“Did he rape me? Yeah, he did. You said yourself I was a scrawny kid. He had 150 lbs on me, give or take. I was overpowered and terrified. I’m surprised he didn’t tear me apart. I closed my eyes, taking myself to a place I never want to go to again, but I did anything I could to remove myself from that situation. His foul breath on my cheek as he told me I was a good little slut, how he’d watched me for a week and knew I’d be his for the taking. His fat, sweaty stomach rubbing against my back, his hands pawing me, spreading my cheeks wider.”

I shuddered at the memory, and bile raced up my throat. I swallowed hard and took a calming breath. It had been years since I’d thought about it, and I had pushed the memories far into the recesses of my mind. Remembering it now brought it all flooding back.

A gentle hand on my face reminded me I was no longer there but sharing a bed with Simon.

“Who did you tell?”

I laughed dryly. “I tried to tell my aunt, but she didn’t listen. I was too ashamed to go home, so I packed up my bag the next day and I left. Walked into Liverpool city centre and never looked back. I slept on the streets for a couple of nights until I met an older prostitute that took me under her wing.”

“Fuck me, and I thought I had it bad.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet.” I hopped out of bed, suddenly thirsty. Reliving the memories had the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and now I’d started, I couldn’t stop the words tumbling from my mouth.

“Do I want to know?”

“I don’t know. Do you? It doesn’t get any easier to listen to.”

He nodded. “I want to know.”

I continued while I searched the room. “Let’s just say one thing led to another, and I spent the next God knows how many years selling myself to make a living. I couldn’t go home. How could I tell my parents and Isla what I’d become?”

I found a couple of bottles of water and handed one to Simon. I took a gulp, moistening my dry mouth.

I sat on the edge of the bed. It didn’t feel right lying down telling my story. I needed to look him in the eye and make him understand the effect his words and actions had on my life. He’d said before I’d had a good life.

Guaranteed, that hadn’t happened.

“You were a prostitute. That’s what you meant.” He sat up and shifted uncomfortably in the bed, the sheet slipping down his body.

“Jackpot! Men, women. It didn’t matter to me. If they had enough money, they could have me.” It was a part of my life I’d tried desperately to hide from everyone I loved. Even Isla didn’t know the full details, although she’d pieced together a few.

He looked around the room, anywhere but at me.

“It’s in the past, Simon. I’m not that Duke anymore either. It was a means to an end, but it was hard to get out of. I knew I wanted to be a better person, to make something of myself. So, when I met a fellow prostitute, Lottie, we talked about getting out of the game, and we both did. I took a course in massage and physio, all paid for with the proceeds of my days on the streets. She put herself through beauty school. I worked fucking hard to get where I am now.”

“I don’t know how you did it. And here was me accusing you of having a charmed life when it was shit.”

“It wasn’t all shit. I had some good laughs, made some amazing friends, and I’m who I am today because of it. I grew up quickly. I don’t give a fuck, and I’m confident as all hell. If I see something I want, I take it. Working on the streets taught me to never give up on my dreams, to fight for what I want. And I’ve had my fair share of fights, even have the scars to prove it.”

I showed him a particularly bad one on my ribs, where I’d been slashed with a knife. A few stitches and it had healed well, but the reminder was always there.

“How long have you been, you know?” Was Simon struggling with my confession? It didn’t matter. It was a big part of me. It was who I was.

“How long have I been off the streets? A good few years, but you know, I’ve lost count. I don’t look at the past anymore, just the future. That’s where my success lies. I’ve had some good jobs. Worked in some exclusive hotels, spas and even did some work on a movie. I met some famous people too, had my hands on a few of them. All that matters is what happens the next day, and the next, and the next. We can’t change the past. It happened, and we have to move on.”

“I’ve lived with this hatred for fifteen years. I realise now that I hated you for all the wrong reasons, thinking for years it was your fault, but hearing your side of the story, what you went through after you left… I’ve been angry at the wrong person. You were kids. Stupid fucking kids, but at the time, all I saw was you standing on your own two feet and Robbie lifeless on the floor.”

“You need to let go, else I don’t think we can be together. If that’s what you really want. Being with a man that resents me, a man that can’t forget the consequences of my youthful recklessness, is going to be a hard no.”

As much as this hurt, I had to know where he stood.

His actions had initially forced my hand, leading me to leave my home and move to Liverpool. The rest of the decisions were mine and mine alone. I didn’t blame him for those. They lay solely at my feet.

“I think I need some time. This has all moved so quickly. I don’t know where my head is at right now.”

I understood, but I’d not regret this evening. If we never met again, then so be it. It would hurt, no doubt about that.

Simon hadn’t been in my life for years, and I’d managed without him. But reconnecting with him had reignited old feelings, and boy, had they grown these past few days. I’d had a taste of him, literally, and it would be harder to put him out of my mind and go on as before.

I picked up my clothes and redressed. Confessions had a habit of ruining an evening, and I guessed mine had been a doozy.

I found a pen and paper and jotted down my mobile number. He could use it or not, or he could give it to Robbie; it was his choice.

“I fly home tomorrow. Here’s my number. Pass it on to Robbie, and I’ll make sure to visit him. It’s been too long.”

Simon said nothing, and I took that as my cue to leave, closing the door behind me.

Instead of waiting for tomorrow’s flight, I packed my bags and went downstairs, finding Cyril sitting alone on the terrace.

“Good night?” he asked, smiling.

“Not as good as I’d have hoped.”

“Oh, that surprises me.”

“Believe me, that part of it was good. The talking after? Not so much. Probably best if I make tracks and head home. Is Barbara okay?”

“She’ll be fine, just a little tired, is all. Thank you for all you’ve done for her. We both appreciate it. Come out again, though, when it’s not so busy. I think she’d like that.”

I stuck out my hand, and he shook it.

“I’ll grab a taxi.”

“No need, I’ll get someone to give you a lift.”

As the car sped towards the airport, I gazed out of the window at the lights of the towns reflecting in the now inky black water.

At least I’d had a break, but it was time to get back to it. Back to my humdrum life in Liverpool. I’d come a long way from where I’d started, but I felt no remorse. What’s done was done, as the old cliché went.

Life moved on; that’s all that mattered.