Spencer clutched for something, anything, but Nick pulled back and left him gaping, empty and bereft, covered in sweat and semen. And floaty. So floaty, in fact, that only the claw marks down his front kept him anywhere near his body. The marks felt like they were glowing bright flaming red despite his dark skin, and held him down like Nick’s hands had earlier.
He reached up with a shaking hand and wiped sweat from his brow. Scrubbed over his face, if nothing else just to make sure some part of his body was still intact. Nick wasn’t touching him anymore. In fact, the air around Spencer was unnervingly vacant, devoid of the kid who’d stepped right up in his face . . . was that tonight? Just an hour or two ago?
Seemed like it hadn’t happened in this same dimension, never mind the same evening.
He opened his eyes, blinked a few times until the room came into focus.
Nick was gone. Completely gone. A phantom who’d slipped back into the shadows, leaving only goose bumps as evidence he’d ever been there at al .
What the hell?
Spencer pushed himself up and looked around as he reached for a handful of tissues. He was just gone?
The tap turned on, and when Spencer glanced over his shoulder, the bathroom light was on and the door ajar. Ah.
There. Now the world made sense again.
Right. As if the world could make sense after a fuck like that.He cleaned himself up, and lay back in the centre of the bed. Too hot to get under the covers, too dizzy to stay upright, so he just lay there and waited for Nick to return.
42
Chapter
fouR
he en suite went dark, and Nick emerged from the Tshadows. God, he really was like a phantom, slipping in and out of a solid, tangible existence at will. Didn’t help that he was still half-covered in black; he never had fully removed his leather trousers, and they were once again zipped and buttoned. Even his hair was back in order, the blond fringe swept off to the side so it was almost out of his eyes. If not for the hint of colour in his skin, it would have been impossible to tell he’d been fucking and scratching and slapping Spencer within the last five minutes.
Spencer wasn’t nearly so put back together. He’d cleaned himself off, but still, he could only imagine how he looked right now. A wreck, no doubt, but as Nick looked him over and grinned, he didn’t feel too terribly self-conscious. This was probably exactly what Nick wanted to see. Mission accomplished, paycheque earned, man down.
Well done, lad. Well done.
Nick sat on the bed beside Spencer, and curved a hand over his bare leg. “You still have me for another hour.”
Another hour. Wow. Spencer licked his lips and ran his fingers over his sweaty hair. “I don’t know if I can handle another hour of you.”
The rentboy chuckled, not even trying to hide the arrogant undercurrent of and don’t you forget it. He drew a fingertip up the inside of Spencer’s thigh, teasing hypersensitive nerve endings with a featherlight touch until Spencer arched and swore, nearly batting Nick’s hand away but somehow certain that wasn’t allowed.
43
“God,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You keep cal ing me that,” Nick teased. “I assure you: I’m not.”“You don’t say.”
The laugh that followed was quiet, but undeniably diabolical. “I’m hardly here to save you. Just fuck you.”
Spencer shivered.
The hand left his thigh. “Get on your stomach.”
Already? Shit. Though Nick hadn’t come, so he wouldn’t need much time to recover, would he?
“I’m not going to fuck you again,” Nick said in that light, teasing tone again. “Relax.”
“Isn’t that what I’m paying you to do?” Spencer was already moving onto his stomach as he said it. “To fuck me?”
“Of course you are.” Nick didn’t even give Spencer a chance to settle before he started playing that little game of light touches on his spine. “And I will fuck you again before I leave, but not yet.”
Spencer glanced back at Nick, and wasn’t at all surprised to see a devilish grin on his lips. Made him wonder what kind of kisser Nick was. Not passive, he was sure. Probably aggressive. Teasing. The kind who would playfully bite Spencer’s lip and force his tongue into his mouth, all in the course of the same kiss. He probably gave a hell of a blowjob, too, if it was possible to get him on his knees.
Ironically, that was the thought on Spencer’s mind a second before Nick shifted, and now Nick was on his knees.
Still over Spencer, but kneeling. Hardly a submissive posture, particularly not now that— Oh my God. Leather simultaneously warmed and cooled the sides of Spencer’s thighs, and just below his arse, more leather. Nick was straddling him. Over him.
44
Nick wasn’t heavy by any means, but he was solid. Muscle through and through. He may have been slight, but he wasn’t going to break in half if the wind hit him wrong.
His weight shifted towards Spencer’s torso. Once again, his hands were on Spencer’s shoulders. On the shoulder blades this time, and pressing in. He started making circles with the heels of his hands, and Spencer couldn’t help groaning.
“Didn’t realise a massage was included.”
“Sometimes I improvise.”
“There’s some oil.” Spencer lifted his arm—when did his own limbs get so fucking heavy?—and gestured at the dresser.