Spence found himself staring, unable to look away as the guy pushed himself away from the bar and started in his direction. Panic set in, and Spence straightened, prepared to run, but he stopped, gripping the tabletop tightly, as if holding on would keep him from leaving. The battle raged in his head. He had absolutely no reason not to lose himself in the pleasure someone else could bring. If his heart couldn’t be happy, why not his body?
I can do this.He tossed back the last of the contents in his glass and rose from his seat, determined to meet the guy halfway. No way was he going to lose one more moment of his life in pointless hope anymore!
His nerves almost got the better of him as they met near the edge of the dance floor. The jock’s lips rose in a hint of smile, and he indicated the seething mass with a tilt of his head. Spence swallowed heavily, then gave a brief nod. They navigated through the moving crowd of bodies to the centre of the dance floor, where the guy wrapped Spence in his strong arms—no pretence at dancing, he was pulled directly against the hard body from chest to thigh. There was no mistaking the interest or intent as Spence felt the evidence against his stomach, the guy’s hard arousal pressing into him. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, his own cock thickening in response to the physical closeness. He closed his eyes, the throbbing music matching the throbbing blood matching the throbbing pressure in his groin. For long moments, they ground together… pressing, rubbing, the pressure building.
Spence inhaled deeply and suddenly opened his eyes.Fuck!The simple act of smelling another guy’s sweat brought it all back to him.
He wasn’t with Ben. He was with a random stranger in a dark and dingy club. As much as his body wanted to get lost in the feel of another human being, his mind and heart just wouldn’t allow it.
He pushed himself away, turned rapidly, and hurried toward the exit, overcome with an intense need to get away from the crowd, the jock included.
* * *
It wasa Murphy’s Law kind of day—if itcouldgo wrong, it did. Big time. Problem after problem that had Ben wishing he could restart the day from the beginning.
It had started before he’d even gotten out of bed in the morning. For some reason, power had been lost overnight, resulting in the alarm clock flashing zeroes when Ben woke, rather than waking him with its usual harsh buzzing. Instead he woke slowly, stretching beneath the sheets and relishing the cosy warmth before noticing the clock, then checking the time on his phone and almost jumping from the bed in his speed to get up. It was an hour past the time he should have left the apartment, which put him on the back foot all day. Lesson learned—from now on he’d set an alarm on his phone too.
Once he was on site, the delivery of gravel had been delayed. After a few hurried phone calls to the supplier to chase them up, only to listen to their excuses, he’d been unable to do much more than pace restlessly as he’d waited for an hour and half for the truck. Then, when it had finally turned up, it was not what he’d ordered and was the wrong type of stone. He’d had to turn the guy around, and now the job would be delayed until next week.
After a tense conversation with his client, where he’d explained the reasons he didn’t want to use anything other than the specific colour they’d chosen for the pathway, he arranged to go back the following Wednesday to complete the job. That meant further calls to other customers to reschedule the three smaller jobs he had booked for next week. It was damn frustrating, but at least he had the upcoming work to shuffle around—much better than not having any new jobs booked in.See? I can be positive.Plus, it gave him even more motivation to bring someone else on board. If he’d had an extra pair of hands, he’d have been able to do the smaller jobs in parallel. His business was definitely looking up.
Ben barely had time for lunch, just a hurried burger from the drive-through eaten in the cab of his truck as he sped to the nursery to select some trees.
A couple of hours later, and following a huge order placed with the wholesaler, he was on his way to his mum’s place. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t been around for a few days, but on the other hand, she had seemed so much happier over recent weeks and he knew he had to stop worrying about her so much. Even Maddy had commented on his overprotectiveness, insisting he try to find some time for himself and not work himself to the bone.
Ben pulled the truck up outside his parents’ place—I guess I should get used to calling it Mum’s place now—and put it into park. He jumped down to the ground, looking forward to spending time with Mum and Maddy and anticipating the roast his mum had promised.
He walked to the house and entered after a quick knock, the door being unlocked as usual. That was probably something else he should talk to his mum about.You can’t be too careful.
“Hey, it’s me,” he called as he walked in the door, but before he got more than two steps into the house, he became aware of a low voice from the kitchen and had a dreadful sense of déjà vu. A shiver ran through his body; the hairs on his arms stood on end. He hadn’t noticed his dad’s car parked out front, but then again, he wasn’t really looking for it on the street, his mind too full of other stuff to study his surroundings too closely. Quickening his pace, Ben headed down the hall and entered the kitchen.
Fucking hell!His stomach dropped at the sight of his father bearing down on his mum. She cowered against the kitchen counter, her small body shaking.Jesus!The only positive was that a quick glance around showed that Maddy wasn’t there this time.
His mum looked up and saw Ben in the doorway, the look of relief clearly evident on her face. It was soon replaced by a look of fear, her face ashen and her lip trembling as Ben’s dad looked over his shoulder. As his gaze met Ben’s, his father straightened and stepped back from Ben’s mum, his eyes narrowing. Ben let out a slow breath as his dad turned to face him, moving slightly away from his mum.
Ben kept his eyes locked on his parents, who were now standing perfectly still in the kitchen.Fuck! What do I do? How the hell do I handle this?
The old clock above the doorway was quietly ticking above his head, and he was aware of the spicy aroma of the soup his mum had bubbling away on the stovetop. It all looked very normal and domestic, apart from the angry, hateful look on his father’s face.
“Dad?” His voice was barely as whisper.
His father didn’t respond. He glared back, his lip twitching.
“Dad,” Ben tried again, his voice stronger this time. “What are you doing here?”
“What. Am. I. Doing. Here.” His father paused between each word, his voice rising, his anger and inebriated state evident in each word. He ended the sentence with a harsh laugh. “This ismyhouse, Ben. You hear that?Myhouse. Don’t you dare question me in my own house, boy!”
His mother used the distraction of the exchange to dart around his dad’s ample frame and make her way to Ben’s side. He put an arm protectively around her shoulders as she sheltered against him.
His dad looked between him and his mum, first glaring at his wife before looking to Ben and snorting. “Don’t think that you can interfere, boy. You might act like you own the place, but you don’t live here anymore.”
“No, Dad,” he responded, his own anger rising.Fuck you for putting us all through this.“Youdon’t live here anymore.”
“Don’tbackchat me, boy, and don’t you dare raise your voice to me!” His dad was now shouting, spittle forming at the sides of his mouth, and a vein pulsing in anger at the side of his forehead.
The soup started to splutter on the stove. There was a hissing noise as the liquid bubbled over and hit the flame under the pot. He saw his mother’s gaze automatically dart to the pot, but she stayed rooted to the spot.Thank God. Stay right where you are, Mum. No sudden movements.
His father stepped forward and pointed a finger. “Out. You can leavenow!” Another step forward. Ben trembled but held his ground. His mother trembled at his side. “Boy!”
