Page 23 of Crave

I stood there for a moment, breath fogging in the cold, rain turning steady. My pulse still hadn’t slowed, and I looked across the street as a figure shifted in the shadows, along with a curl of smoke drifting into the air. The smell reached me.

Tobacco. Rain. Leather.

Then I felt the eyes on me.

I told myself it was nothing.

Had to tell myself it was nothing. Benji was right. I’d had my dance with danger. My slumfest, as it were. And it was loud and clear this world didn’t belong to me.

So I got in the car and left.

Never to come back again.

But couldn’t help myself from asking Benji as we slid away, “Which mate were they referring to?”

Chapter six

Razor

My cigarette burnt low, biting my fingers.

Across the road, I’d watched the whole thing: Tripper’s two little idiots hemming in my backroom tart and his mate, flashing a blade as if they were extras in some cheap film. Kids thought carrying steel made them men. Didn’t know fuck all.

Two problems straight off.

First — they weren’t my line. Those kids, and they were kids even if they’d been grafting road since they could walk, weren’t my soldiers. I knew them. Knew them well. And they knew this was my patch. And if they were out here roughing someone on a tick, then something had passed hands and it’d be Ghost’s gear, not mine. Meaning he was shifting product where he shouldn’t, moving it on punters too green to know whose name ran this street.

Unvetted. Untaxed. Disrespectful.

I weren’t having that. Not after all I’d bled to hold this corner.

Second problem— the posh boys.

Something didn’t add up there. I’d been in this game long enough to know the usual types. Club lads. Corner punters. Hit seekers looking to take the edge off. That was my bread and butter. I knew these streets inside out. Sure, the odd tourist drifted through. But they got pointed the right way and got what they came for. That was that. But those ones? They’d been pointed the wrong fucking way.

Which brought a third problem. The pretty boy.

He was meant to be for rent.

Yet… fuck. I’d had plenty of them. Money holes, rent pieces, working lads on the game. Even a few of the higher-end escorts now and then. I’d paid for the full boyfriend experience without leaving a hotel. Pay, play, walk away. That’s how I kept the noise down. Kept myself standing in this piss-stained corner of the world and not beaten to a pulp, removed and replaced by someone less problematic.

Okay granted, I’d taken a punt on a new one. And I was cursing myself that I hadn’t done the mental check. Rookie mistake. Didn’t think I’d see him again though, did I? And yeah, I’ll admit it, I’ve got a weakness for the type. Pretty boys in pretty clothes. Wide eyes. Filthy smiles. Lips made for sin. Exactly like him.

Shit.

That back alley kept looping in my head.

His hand on me. Then him taking himself out, bold as fuck. And how our cocks aligned together, slick heat between us. The sound he made when I called him dirty. And the way his body trembled when I took over. Not from fear, but from wanting. That was the problem. He wasn’t meant to want me. Rent boys don’t. They touch only when told to. They keep their hands obedient, their reactions on a leash. They don’t get off on it. They don’t fucking come unless it’s been discussed. Negotiated. Agreed.

But he did.

And I’d let him. I’d touched him. Took him there with my hand over his on my cock, tangled our fingers all slick with pre-come, and worked both of us as if it actually fucking mattered. Like I gave a fuck. I never did that. Ever. Not unless it’s some long job in a hotel, and even then, it meant nothing. Just another night. Another act.

But him…

Christ. I’d tried to shake it off. Walked out after. My head had been full of noise while my hands still smelt of him. So I went looking for air. Distance. But the bastard stayed in my blood. Every drag of smoke brought him back. The look in his eyes when I asked what to call it. The pause before he answered. As if he didn’t know either.

That look had followed me out the club and dragged me right into this.