All Man (2 page)

“Not enough hair for that,” Gareth said with a sheepish smile. He ran the flat of his palm over his shorn head. His hand was strong and thick like the rest of him, broad-fingered and calloused….

No
, Jules told his errant brain.
Down, boy
.

“Let me brush you off so you won’t be too itchy.” Jules whisked away as much of the hair as he could with the soft brush. He bent down and blew hard at Gareth’s neck, trying to dislodge a few particularly stubborn ones. “I think that’s the best I can do.”

“No worries. I’ll shower it off when I get home.”

Brilliant. Now Jules was thinking about Gareth in the shower, naked, with water streaming over him. He undid Gareth’s gown and took it off, holding it in front of him as he lost the battle with his overexcited dick.

Gareth stood, brushing down the legs of his jeans before giving Jules a smile that made his knees weak. “Thanks, Jules. Have a good weekend.”

“You too, Gareth. See you Monday.”

As soon as the door of the salon shut behind Gareth, Tyler was laughing. “You too, Gareth,” he trilled, fluttering his hands in a ridiculous and inaccurate imitation of Jules. Because what the fuck? He hadn’t waved his hands around like that. They’d been far too busy holding the gown to hide the bulge in his trousers for starters.

“Oh fuck off.” He threw the balled up gown at Tyler, who dodged it. “You’d have been all over him like a rash a few months ago. Just because you only have eyes for Duncan now, you saddo.”

“I’m not a saddo. I’m in love,” Tyler protested.

“Well good for you. But stop taking the piss and leave me to enjoy my tragic unrequited crushes in peace.”

Tyler chuckled but his voice was soft when he said, “Okay. I have to admit, he is pretty hot.”

“Isn’t he?” Jules sighed wistfully.

CHAPTER TWO

Jules leaned back against the bar, surveying the men on the dance floor as if they were a moving, sweaty buffet laid out for his delectation.

“What do you want to drink, Jules?”

Sacha had finally managed to attract the attention of one of the barmen.

“Vodka and Red Bull.” He pulled some cash out of his pocket to give to Sacha. “Make it a quadruple vodka. I don’t wanna come back to the bar for a while.”

Once they had their drinks, they got out of the scrum at the bar, but it was crowded everywhere. It was free entry at the club tonight and drinks were half price—the owner was obviously trying to get punters through the door and make an impression—and they’d had to queue to get in. Inside it was heaving.

Jules’s foot was already tapping along to the heavy bass beat and he started swaying his hips in time with the dirty grind of the music as he sipped at his drink. The vodka and the pill he’d taken a couple of hours earlier warmed him from the inside, matching the heat of the club on his skin.

Sacha grinned at him, teeth gleaming in the darkness. “You ready to dance?”

“Yep.”

They downed their drinks in unison before pushing their way through the crowd to the centre of the dance floor. Sacha led the way, peeling his T-shirt off as he went and tucking it in his back pocket. Jules saw guys sending admiring glances his way and he didn’t blame them. Sacha was gorgeous. His body was all taut muscle—gym honed to perfection through his job as a personal trainer. Sacha looked over his shoulder to make sure Jules was following him, and Jules tucked a finger in his belt loop, keeping hold of him so they didn’t get separated.

They always started out dancing together. Friends since they were at school, they’d practised their moves in Sacha’s bedroom when his dad was working late. Playing MTV so loudly that the neighbours used to bang on the wall, they’d danced for hours, copying their favourite stars. They’d danced together, laughing, bumping and grinding until they were both horny. Those evenings had usually ended with blowjobs—another skill they’d perfected back in those days.

Their bodies slotted seamlessly together. Hands on each other’s hips, they moved together in an easy, dirty rhythm. Jules noticed a few guys watching them, some staring in blatant appreciation. He twisted in Sacha’s arms and pushed his arse back into the bulge in Sacha’s jeans.

“Yeah, baby,” Sacha murmured in his ear. “There’s a hot guy over there totally checking you out.”

“Where?” Jules scanned the faces until he saw him.

Gareth.

His eyes were fixed on Jules and Sacha, watching them with an expression that was almost wistful. Jules’s heart flip-flopped and changed rhythm, beating hard. He knew he should smile, wave, encourage Gareth to come over and join them. He looked like he wanted to. But instead Jules panicked, turning back to face Sacha and putting his arms around his neck.

“That’s the guy I was telling you about, Gareth, from the salon. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

“If you like that type.” Sacha preferred his guys a little less butch and with more hair—preferably blond.

“You know I do. Is he still watching us?”

“Yep.” Sacha put his hands on Jules’s arse and pulled him even closer. Jules was riding his thigh now, grinding his rapidly filling cock against Sacha’s hip.

Gathering up his courage, Jules turned again, adjusting his erection as he met Gareth’s gaze. He smiled and beckoned.

Gareth hesitated but then he approached them.

“Hi.” Jules put a hand on his shoulder and leaned close to shout in his ear over the music. Sacha kept his hand on Jules’s hips, staying close. “Fancy meeting you here. I wouldn’t have guessed this would be your scene. Please tell me you’re not a straight tourist.”

Gareth laughed. “No. I’m definitely gay.” His warm breath on Jules’s ear made Jules shiver.

“This is my friend Sacha.” Jules tilted his head back to include Sacha in the conversation. “Sacha, this is Gareth.”

“Hi, Gareth.” Sacha’s voice was smooth as silk, his body still moving in a sinuous rhythm against Jules’s.

Jules curled his hand around the back of Gareth’s neck, touching the soft skin he’d shaved earlier, feeling the stubble at his hairline against his fingertips. “Wanna join us?”

Gareth smiled, and for a moment Jules thought he was going to agree. But then he shook his head ruefully.

“No. I need to go get a beer. Anyway, you two make such a pretty picture it would be a shame to spoil it. I’ll see you around, Jules. Have fun.”

Jules’s heart sank as he walked away. So near and yet so far. Oh well. He obviously wasn’t Gareth’s type.

An hour or so passed in a whirl of flashing lights, sweaty bodies, and the rising exhilaration of dancing. As usual Jules and Sacha didn’t stay together for long. Other guys cut in and they gradually drifted apart, finding potential hook up partners. Sacha was the filling in the sandwich of two guys who appeared to be a couple. They looked to be in their late thirties and both were attractive, in a conventional sort of way. Sacha looked happy with the arrangement—grinding against one guy’s thigh while the other pressed his dick into Sacha’s arse, both of them kissing his neck. Jules wondered if he’d be going home as their third tonight and felt a flash of envy. They looked like they’d be a lot of fun.

Jules was dancing with a cute dark-haired boy. He was a great dancer and was obviously interested in Jules, if the hard-on poking Jules in the hip was anything to go by. Jules loved the thrill of being wanted, being desired, but this boy wasn’t what he was looking for.

Other twinks were fun to dance with and show off with, but they weren’t what Jules craved. He’d always fancied older guys, the bigger and hairier the better. Sacha teased him for having daddy issues, and maybe he did. It was true Jules's father had been a total failure on the parenting front. But whatever the reason, Jules loved bears. It wasn’t that he wanted someone to take care of him, and he definitely didn’t want to call anyone daddy while they were fucking him… but he fancied blokes like that. They turned him on.

He was on edge tonight, constantly looking over his dance partner’s shoulder, hoping to catch sight of Gareth again. It was stupid. Gareth had made it obvious he wasn’t interested, but Jules couldn’t get him out of his head.

He made his excuses, escaped from the dance floor, and then went to the bar. While he was ordering a double vodka, a firm hand patted his arse and squeezed, and a deep voice said, “Let me get that for you. Make it two,” he added to the barman.

Jules wheeled round to check out the guy who was feeling him up.

Not bad
.

Mid-thirties, thick sandy hair, and a full beard, he kind of had that lumbersexual thing going on. Jules was down for that. Especially when he looked to have a pretty fit body under the white, sweat-stained T-shirt.

“Thanks.” Jules turned on his most winning smile.

“You’re welcome.” The man grinned, a little wolfishly. “I’m Lee.”

“Jules.” The barman put their drinks down and Jules raised his. “Cheers.” He downed it in one, the burn making his eyes water.

“Fill it up again,” Lee said to the barman. “My boy’s thirsty.”

Half an hour later, Jules was questioning his life choices. Normally he was down for a bit of rough handling in the club toilets, but Lee was particularly brutal. He slammed Jules up against the wall of the cubicle, not even bothering to close the door behind them before pushing Jules to his knees.

“Yeah, fucking take it,” he grunted, one hand already undoing his fly as he gripped Jules’ hair with the other one. Jules wasn’t averse to a bit of hair pulling but he enjoyed it more if he was revved up first. Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood tonight. His own dick was pretty uninterested in the proceedings and his head was spinning a little from too much vodka. That was probably why he couldn’t get it up.

Fuck it. Let’s get this over with
, he thought as he obligingly opened his mouth for Lee’s cock.

Jules did his best but maybe Lee had drunk too much as well. After what felt like forever—but was probably only about ten minutes of Jules pulling out every trick he knew—Lee didn’t even seem close. Jules's eyes were watering, his throat was aching, and his knees were fucking killing him.

Jules pulled off and wiped the drool away from his lips. “Okay look. Sorry but this isn’t really happening. I’m done. How about we just go and get another drink or something?”

The last thing Jules wanted was another drink. All he wanted now was to go home. He was tired, sore, and dejected. The pill he’d taken earlier was wearing off and the comedown, combined with the depressive effect of the alcohol, was weighing on him.

He started to get up, knees creaking painfully. When Lee grabbed under his armpits to haul him up, Jules thought he was being helpful. But before he had time to register what was going on, Lee whirled him around and smashed him against the wall again. Jules struggled, but Lee was strong, and he had at least fifty pounds on Jules. He had Jules’s cheek pressed against the cubicle wall and his breath was hot and sour on Jules’s face.

“No you fucking don’t, you little prick tease. We’re not done till I say we’re done.”

He got a hand to Jules’s jeans, tearing at the button fly until they popped open. Jules tried to fight him off but felt the cool air hit his arse as Lee tugged his trousers and underwear down.

“Get the fuck off me!” He jabbed an elbow back, hearing a grunt of pain as it connected.

Lee grabbed Jules’s hair and banged his head so hard against the wall that he saw stars. “You little bitch!”

Rough, dry fingers pushed into the cleft of Jules’s arse, rubbing over his hole. Jules clenched his body tight against them and elbowed back harder, wriggling like an eel in Lee’s tight grip. No way was he going to let this idiot fuck him dry without a condom. He heard footsteps in the main toilet area and muffled voices. “No!” he yelled, hoping for assistance.

Lee clamped a hand over Jules’s mouth and Jules bit down as hard as he could.

“Fuck,” Lee hissed, snatching his injured hand away. “You’re not worth the fucking hassle anyway, stupid little slag.”

Jules knees went weak as Lee finally let go of him. He sagged against the wall, breathing hard as he waited for Lee to go.

But then he heard a new voice, one he recognised. “You fucking bastard!”

Jules turned to see Lee being dragged out of the cubicle, his trousers and underwear down around his knees and his rapidly softening dick hanging free.

Jules followed, tugging up his own jeans, needing to see how this played out.

Now it was Lee’s turn to be slammed into a wall by a furious-looking Gareth. “You slimy shit,” he roared. “Keep your nasty little dick where it’s wanted in future.” He had Lee by the balls—literally—in a grip that must’ve been painful if Lee’s pathetic whimpering was anything to go by. He had his other arm up against Lee’s throat, pressing him hard into the tiled wall. “Understand?”

Lee nodded, eyes wide with fear.

There was a long pause, the silence only broken by Lee’s hoarse breathing where his windpipe was being constricted. Jules realised there were a few other onlookers then, all of them glaring at Lee.

Gareth let go of him abruptly and stepped back. “Fuck off then.”

Lee pulled up his clothes and practically ran out of there, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he went.

Jules took a shuddery breath. The adrenaline high receded abruptly now Lee was gone, and shame and horror at his near miss flooded in to take its place. His legs wobbled and he stumbled over to the wall. Leaning against it wasn’t enough so he slid down into a crumpled heap, his head on his knees as a sob tore through him.

Lots of voices spoke at once.

“You all right, mate?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Do we need to call security?”

“What the hell just happened?”

But one voice cut above the others. “Give him some space guys. I know him, let me handle this, yeah?”

The other voices faded and Gareth’s hand was a warm, reassuring weight on Jules’s shoulder. “Breathe, Jules. Keep it slow and steady.”

Once Jules’s breathing settled, he lifted his head. Gareth was sitting on the floor in front of him, his hand still on Jules’s shoulder.