Bound to Love (4 page)

“Of course you can.”

“You feel—it feels—different. Not like it did.” Pressing my hand hard, he continued, tearing his words out as if every one cost him a million bucks to say. “I’d be asleep, and I’d wake up to somebody’s hand on me. Big hand, little boy.”

I smiled. “Now you’re all grown up.”

“Parts of me have. I still feel like a kid sometimes.” The corner of his mouth moved in a grimace. “If I dream about it, I go look at myself in the bathroom mirror to make sure I’m real.”

“You feel real to me.”

He lifted his hand away. I did the same. Speaking as if something ordinary was happening, I said, “I haven’t had my shower yet. Care to join me?”

He looked at me as if I was insane. I forced myself to keep the smile, turned and swung my feet out of bed. “You have a huge shower. We could stand either end of it and not touch each other at all. You have an indecent number of showerheads.”

“Five,” he said with a grin. I bathed in that grin, loved it.

“If you’re feeling brave, you can let me do what I’ve been dying to do since I first saw you naked.”

Regaining some of his equilibrium, he raised a brow. “And what’s that?”

Naked, I sauntered to the bathroom door, and paused to look back over my shoulder. His attention was fixed on my ass. Men! “Give you a blow job.”

His groan followed me into the bathroom.

I wasted no time setting the water into action. It had taken me some time to work the controls. One wave of my hand in front of a sensor started the water pouring from the central spray unit, then I could touch the smaller panels underneath to switch the others on and off. I settled for three. The shower was a walk-in, tiled in white, the trim in shiny chrome. Clean and neat. Tension filled me. I really wanted him to join me, but just as I was beginning to realize that he wouldn’t, a shadow crossed my vision and there he was.

A naked Troy was a beautiful sight. Male power rippled in every muscle. Tall and perfectly proportioned, he was every inch a perfect male specimen. He paused at the step that would bring him into the shower and just looked at me. I picked up the shampoo and offered it to him.

With a nod he joined me, plucking the shampoo from my hands. “Turn around.”

I moaned when I felt his hands on my scalp. He stood away from me, so only his hands touched me, but he made a thorough job of massaging my head. I usually just scrubbed at my head, rinsed, conditioned and that was it. This was more of a sensual feast.

“Does that feel good?”

“You can’t imagine. So good.”

Taking the hand shower, he rinsed, then smoothed on the conditioner. The bathroom was now equipped with the stuff I needed to keep my hair at least presentable. One day I’d get a good haircut, which would help even more, but I wouldn’t mention that to Troy. He’d have me in a spa before I could think straight.

Anyway, this was better. He stroked my head, and I tipped it back, unable to resist his caresses. He purred, a masculine rumble that went straight to my sex. He stroked my shoulders with the flat of his hands, running down my arms to my elbows. Then he jerked me against him, the pressure of his shaft searing into my back. I clasped my hands together. It was too tempting to turn around and put my arms around his waist. But we hadn’t come far enough yet. I couldn’t take anything for granted.

“So how about your promise? Can I have my reward now?”

I loved the way he put that. Yes, a reward. “Maybe that will be the incentive.” But I wanted to do this as much as he did.

I stepped away, turned around and dropped to my knees on the nubbly tiled floor of the shower. Hot water poured down on me as he presented me with the tempting bounty, erect and leaking. When I tasted him for the first time, I moaned. He tasted so good that I didn’t know how I’d stopped myself doing this before. I wanted to touch him, to clasp my hands around the strong columns of his thighs, but I couldn’t push him this far. His muscles were tense, taut with strain.

I sucked him in. Keeping my balance wasn’t easy, but I managed it, and when I sank back on to my heels, he came with me, but he didn’t push his erection farther into my mouth, leaving me to take as much as I could.

I opened my mouth further, tipped my head back and looked up. I was situated between two of the shower heads, and while one poured water down my back, his body sheltered me from the other. His eyes burned into mine as I tasted him. I licked around the plump head, the smooth, fine skin silken with his arousal, his masculine musk surrounding me, and he watched me.

I sucked as much as I could, slowly letting the shaft go further in until the head butted the roof of my mouth. I swallowed, my instinctive reactions forcing it. The hunger in his eyes consumed me. Harder and deeper, although I had barely half of it in my mouth. We watched each other while I pleasured him, controlling the whole action with only that one part of my body. I wanted all of him, to claim him as mine.

With a swift, decisive movement, he dragged me to my feet and spun me around, pressing me against the wall at the rear of the shower. I gasped with shock, but I was ready, as he pushed my thighs apart, and pressed his cock against my opening. He surged in. I was so wet from what I’d just done that I didn’t need any help. He thrust deep, pressing his body against mine, my bottom nestling into his groin. He must be bending to my level, but that didn’t stop him driving in to the hilt. With his hands around my waist, still in my body, he lifted me. My toes scrabbled for a hold and find it on the small ledge that lined the shower, just enough to give me a hold while he fucked me into oblivion. Our bodies slammed together, every thrust squashing me against the slippery wall. “You’re irresistible,” he muttered into my ear. “I can’t leave you alone.”

“Me too.” I only had enough breath to gasp as he drove me up higher, until my body rioted with fierce arousal. I soared up, trusting him to get me there, relishing the way I climbed until I reached the peak and fell.

With a guttural cry he joined me, his shaft pulsing inside me.

Tumbled down into his arms. Gently, he lifted me away, and turned me. I was in his arms and we were face to face. “Touch me,” he whispered.

I couldn’t believe he’d want to go this far. Tentatively, I put my hands on his waist. “I didn’t use protection,” he said softly. “Will that be a problem?”

I shook my head. “I’m on the pill.”

“I’m clean. I had an insurance check before I signed to do the play.” He blinked, stared at me, but he wasn’t seeing me for a fraction of a minute. I waited. Was he about to break? I prepared to move back before he took the devastating step of pushing me away.

His vision cleared. He didn’t move. “I know what I’m going to do,” he said. “The play. I know how to get into Antony’s head.” He smiled. “And it’s the best revenge I can think of.”

T
roy

I strode to the theater the next day in a completely different frame of mind to the night before. I had no doubt that my mother had intended to remind me who was boss, who still owned me. That alone made me want to fight back. Maybe this time I’d win.

She’d told me that as I’d left to live with my father. I was meant to pay one of the visits the court had ordered, but I never came back. Once I’d told my father what my mother’s friends had done, he called her and told her he knew, threatening to expose them if she didn’t agree to let him keep me.

She didn’t care enough to fight him. Thank fuck. At eleven I was already stronger and taller than most boys of my age, so I was outgrowing my novelty value. So she showed up last night to force me into compliance. Maybe she wanted me back, now I had value as a social asset. She lived in her own world, made her own rules. How could she ever imagine something like that? After the play she’d sent texts. I ignored them, and didn’t tell Cassie. She might have murdered my mother in her bed. Judging by the fury in my lover’s eyes when I confessed my secret, she might well have done that.

I didn’t deserve a woman like that. I’d expected her to leave after I told her. Even confessing what was done made me feel tainted. But she didn’t. She stayed. We slept together all night. Although I still wore the pajamas and T-shirt, she remained naked, and I could roam her body with my hands. In the early hours of the morning I made love to her again, and then curled her into my arms, her back to my front. Maybe later we could both stay naked. But from the effort it had taken me just to let her touch my naked waist, I knew I couldn’t push things too far.

If blow jobs were my reward, I’d keep going.

Cassie was mine. I wanted–– needed–– to hold her and keep her, the urge almost impossible to deny. But she was proud. Although she’d let me buy her a few things and take her to dinner at places she couldn’t afford, she wouldn’t give up her waitressing jobs. Not one of them. I’d called my old man, and asked him to use his influence at the museum, but so far, nothing had happened there. I wanted her happy and relaxed—and with me.

Now more than ever.

Ignoring the few fans who clustered around the stage door, apart from a nod and telling them, “Shouldn’t you be in school?” I went through to the dressing rooms and tapped the one belonging to Sonia. Her dresser opened the door. I knew she’d be in this morning, because she’d said her costumes needed altering. After giving them a good workout, I’d guessed as much.

The dresser let me in, and I went to where Sonia was standing in one of her costumes, one arm raised while the dresser pinned and tucked, and I kissed her cheek. “Morning.”

She gave me a jaded look. “So it is.”

“You know you have a beautifully shaped head. Not many actors would go bald for a part.”

She shrugged. “It’ll grow back. I never wear it long, in any case. Too much bother.” Her English accent rang out, crisp and clear. The voice that had created a thousand parts, and now the face that launched a thousand ships. No, that was Helen of Troy, not Cleopatra.

“I got it.”

She paid me more attention. “Tell me.”

I didn’t have to explain. She was one of the best actresses of her generation and she’d been acting me off the stage. Now I had the answer and while I didn’t know if I could come up to her standards, I could give her a run for her money. “I need to get inside a character, and I couldn’t get anywhere with Antony. Slippery bastard.”

“That’s what Julius Caesar said about him.”

“Did he?” I hadn’t read that particular quote. “Well he was right. When I couldn’t find a way in, I worked with what I had—the scripts. The poetry. But it wasn’t enough.”

“Shakespeare wrote great poetry.” She dropped her right arm and lifted her left. The dresser went to work on that side.

“Not enough. When I was researching the part, I looked into the cougar angle.” She raised a plucked brow, but said nothing, so I went on. “Older woman, younger man.”

“Yes, I know what a cougar is. So why didn’t you carry on with that theme?”

“Because of you. You’re beautiful, so who would believe that? But I can get into that. A younger man who has been dominated by older women all his life. Then he finds the one.” I started to pace. “He meets a woman who is elegant, lovely, and all that, but he gets to know someone much more vulnerable.”

“And not as beautiful as she lets others think.” Oh fuck, she was a marvel. My heart soared. Plenty of actors had played the cougar part, and there were lots of two powerful people meeting and ruining each other, but not this. Not like I wanted to play it.

“Then he loves her all the more.” I turned and faced her. “You’re a fucking wonderful actress. Would you do that?”

“Are you kidding?” She was transformed. Eagerness sent her expression into overdrive. “We can do brilliant things with this. If you’re willing to work on it. We can smooth out the details this week, and open with a wow.” Pulling away from the dresser, who tutted and growled, she went to the dressing table and gazed at her reflection, pulling faces. “I can plaster on the makeup at first, then show myself in the intimate scenes. That’ll be a shock to the audience, but that’s when Antony really falls in love with her.”

She got it. I came up behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Only when he sees her, wrinkles and all, does he give her everything. It’s not her beauty, it’s her age he needs.”

“That’s sick.” But she was smiling. “He has a kink for wrinkles?”

“And he doesn’t realize it until he meets Cleo.”

“And she goes for younger men. Not because they’re sexy and handsome, but because they’re vulnerable. Do you think you can do that? It means exposing yourself as much as I will.”

“Sure I can.” Because I’d done it before. “She turns him into a little boy in bed. This is going to be the sickest version of the play anybody has ever seen. But not for its own sake.”

“To bring out another truth of the play. The sick side of Shakespeare.”

She didn’t know what sick was, but I wasn’t going to argue. Not now I’d got her on my side.

We set to work.

C
assie

We’d made progress that week, but not much. Troy had stayed at rehearsals longer. They were taking a new direction, he said, and it would take work. Because of our new understanding, I trusted him to tell me the truth. And he was excited, energized by the new take he’d gotten on the play.

Just as well because I was working hard too, finishing the pavement that would go on display the next week. The opening was set a few days after Troy’s first night. But although we were both busy we came together every night.

I was spending more time at his place than at mine. Slowly my belongings came across to his apartment. I could walk to the museum from there, and we could hardly stay at my place. I had the sofa bed in the living room, because really it was Cindy’s place and she had the bedroom. Mind, she might like the company. Not that I had any intention of giving her a birds’ eye view of my lover’s delectable body. That was mine. Mine to touch now, although we were far from the place we both wanted to be.

Then my boss Steve called me into his office. The pavement was done, so maybe he didn’t need me any more. With a heavy heart, I walked there, and then knocked. I didn’t usually knock, but it seemed appropriate.