Page 21 of Compulsion

Even as I wondered what the hell lube he was going to use and how in God’s name I was going to get my leg far enough over on this narrow seat, or if my cock had any appetite left after basking in the afterglow of its climax—he slid the second finger into me. It was wet and warm with my come, and I moaned with need. Stretching my upper leg up and forward so that my knee banged on the inside of the door, I grabbed the handle as an anchor. My nose was squished up against the upholstery. I heard Seve flip open the glove compartment and then fumble with a condom. When his cock came back up against me, it was cool and still almost dry. Not like that, you don’t. “Use my come,” I hissed. “The rest of it.” No one was going to rip me apart, however much I wanted him.

Seve crawled his fingers around to my groin, where a sticky puddle had dribbled from my navel to my pubic hair. He scooped up what was there: a generous handful. I lay still, bracing my limbs, listening to the upholstery squeak as Seve shifted and rubbed my seed over his cock. The flesh would be red-angry; he’d be impatient. I could imagine every detail going on behind my back. My own skin was tingling back to life at the thought. Then he rolled hard against me again, gripping my waist, forcing his hip under my upper thigh. And he pushed his cock into me.

I’ve always liked being bottom, though with Seve I hadn’t had the option of anything else yet. But I wasn’t bothered right now, because it was so damn good. It was briefly painful, there wasn’t much room to maneuver, and my leg started shaking from the tension of holding it up and out of the way. But Seve must have recovered quickly from my sucking, because it took him only a few minutes of thrusting into me before he came again. Just a few minutes, plenty of stifled groans, and more abuse to the car’s suspension.

I was half-erect, but to be honest, the way I was cramped against the side of the car wasn’t conducive to another climax. When he shuddered inside me and finished, I let him ease himself out and fall back onto his seat. Something creaked, and I didn’t know if it was the gear stick or the steering column. Or me. My hard-on was dreaming of past glories, but very shortly they’d sink away to mere memories.

“You’re amazing.” The words were spoken almost dreamily. It didn’t sound like Seve’s bold, aggressive tone at all. And that was more or less the only way I’d ever heard him.

I was shaken. I wasn’t sure he’d meant me to hear it.

For what seemed like a long time, I was silent, staring at the black rectangle of the car’s window. Seve was too. It was as if neither of us knew what to say. I listened to his breathing beside me, and when I glanced over, I could see his chest rising and falling. His face was turned up to the roof of the car and his eyes were closed. I should have felt at peace like that too. Lively sex, a fantastic climax, no irritating postcoital chattering.

But my mind was in turmoil. I wanted to sleep; I never wanted to sleep again. I wanted to touch him; I wanted to push him away. I wanted just to hold him… to hear his voice… to listen to his laugh. Then to fight the fascination he awoke in me. I was an emotional mess, and it wasn’t just a result of the sex.

I also realized I wanted to leave.

“Take me back to town,” I said. My voice was stark in the cold, clear air. The car was chilled by the rain, and our bodies were starting to shiver.

“What?”

“Take me back.”

It sounded like Seve held his breath for a moment. Then he shifted clumsily, pulling the condom off into a tissue, and drew his jeans back up his hips. I did the same, cursing the narrow space, ignoring the awkward imprint of the seat belt clasp on my thigh. I hitched up my seat and Seve started the car.

The side windows were still fogged, but I thought I saw a pair of car headlights spring alight just as we pulled out of the car park. There was no other traffic around. The other car followed our route for quite some way until it finally turned off by the pier and we drove farther along the promenade toward the marina.

Seve dropped me off near the club and drove away swiftly. Since I’d asked him to go back, everything had been in complete silence.

A COUPLE of weeks later, Louis caught me in the kitchen while I was washing up after our late dinner. Well, not that I was making a break for it, but he stopped in the doorway, effectively blocking my exit. I wiped the last couple of plates slowly, wondering what was coming and suspecting I already knew. He had a particular look on his face, one of those looks I hadn’t seen since I was a kid and was caught stealing sweets by the old ex-soldier who ran the corner shop. A mixture of anger, admonition, and understanding. Very difficult to balance, all of that. Louis’s acting experience inevitably stood him in good stead.

“Max?”

I sighed to myself.

“I’m worried about you.”

“In what way?”

He peered at me, suspicious of my calm. “This man you’re seeing—”

Is that what I’d call it? Seeing? “You mean Seve?”

Louis just raised an eyebrow.

“Okay. So no one else is beating down the door to date me. I guess you do mean Seve. It’s just fun, Louis. Just… something casual.”

Louis nodded. Rarely have I seen someone nod a “yes” when they so blatantly mean “no way.” “He’s new to Brighton, Max, but he’s already got a reputation in the club.”

No, I thought, I was not going to ask. “What reputation?”

“He likes being in charge. He doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially the staff. His company pays bloody good money, but he expects long hours and no messing about. He cancels contracts with long-standing suppliers if they won’t meet the Medina prices, and he’s sacked a couple of dancers who don’t get enough attention. He watches all the expenses, though he spends plenty of money on his car and his flat.”

His flat? “His flat?”

Louis dismissed it with a graceful wave of his hand. “It’s somewhere on Sussex Square. We all know how much those properties cost. He’s rich and arrogant and obviously used to getting his own way.”

Some people would wonder at what point that became a bad thing. “Is that what you’ve heard, or gossip?”