Junk (24 page)

The warehouse doors were huge, towering high enough to allow at least two lorries to pull in side by side. Lewis unlocked the padlock holding the giant metal concertina together before putting all his weight into shifting it sideways. It barely budged. Lewis frowned at it. He could see wheels underneath, so once it got moving it shouldn’t be too hard to push back, but something was making it stick. The other side was just as stubborn. They could go in by the regular-sized door he’d used earlier, but it would be so much easier if they could park the van inside. “A little help?” he panted.

Jasper stirred from his stupor and stepped up to help out, shoulder to shoulder. The touch of their arms through the cloth of their T-shirts was intoxicating, and it inspired Lewis to push his muscles to the maximum. With a grunt from Jasper, the door began to shift, momentum carrying it forward at increasing speed until they were almost running to keep up with it. But then it folded up against the wall and crashed into itself with a bang. The two of them were thrown back by the impact. They landed on the concrete floor, side by side, breathless and bruised.

Lewis wasn’t sure when he began laughing, but when Jasper joined in, it was the best sound ever. A choking, rasping wheeze that shouldn’t have been sexy but somehow was. He rolled over to watch. Lines crinkled around the edges of Jasper’s eyes, his forehead free of creases for a change. If it wouldn’t have killed the moment he’d have pulled his phone out to take a photograph, so instead he concentrated on every detail, storing it up in his memory.

When he’d finally calmed down, the smile Jasper gave him was almost shy. “Sorry. I’ve got a weird laugh.”

“Who told you that?”

Jasper’s forehead creased again, the habitual frown line back. “Can’t remember. Lots of people, probably.”

“None of them worth listening to.” Lewis gave in to temptation and pressed a quick kiss to Jasper’s lips. “Now take a look at this. I’ve been busy.”

He offered a hand to help Jasper up, then refused to let go of it. Jasper was thinking too hard again. Worrying. Lewis could tell by the way Jasper’s eye had started twitching away like he had an eyelash stuck in it. He’d just have to talk up the good points, ignoring the piles of rotting wooden pallets around the edge of the cavernous space and the cooing of the pigeons in the rafters.

“As you can see, we’ve got loads of room, so I’ve gone all out and marked up a floor plan of your house.” He indicated the blue tape on the floor. “See? It’s bigger than it is in reality, so we’ve got room to move around. The front door’s here. We’ve got your dining room, living room and kitchen on the ground floor, and then over there is the top floor. Not actually sure what you call all those rooms and if the space I’ve allocated is in the right proportion, but we can always expand them if we need to. Nothing more complicated than moving the tape. This whole section is where we’ll move all the boxes to as we bring them in, keeping them all in the right rooms so you know where things are.”

Jasper’s brow furrowed as he walked around the upper floor plan. “What’s that over there, then?” he asked, pointing to the other floor plan Lewis had hastily taped out.

“That’s where we’ll move the things you want to go back to the house. It will let you see how much you’ve got in each room. Let you categorise and check out how much shelf space you’ll need. I’ve also taped out some areas over by the far wall. We can use them to put things headed for different destinations. Recycling, charity, wherever you decide.”

Jasper nodded slowly. Good. He wasn’t bolting out the door in terror at the prospect. “I think I’ve found somewhere I want to donate my books. The fiction ones, anyway.”

“You have?”

“There’re a lot of homeless people in Bristol. They can’t afford to buy new books, even second-hand, but I reckon they’re more in need of the escape than anyone else. I spoke to a man at the shelter a few weeks back. He said they’d be happy to take them.”

“That’s great! How come you didn’t tell me, then?”

“Just forgot.” Jasper turned back, a guilty expression haunting his eyes. “That’s not true. I just… I hated the idea of giving away my books to people who might lose or mistreat them. They’ll get rain-damaged and grubby, won’t they?”

Sugar-coating the truth was tempting, but it wouldn’t do Jasper any favours right now. “I reckon that’s pretty likely.”

“Yeah. I thought so. But then I got thinking about what you’d said about needing to say good-bye to them properly. You know, cut all ties and let them out of my life. That means I can’t control how they’ll be treated after I let go of them. And I figured that even if each book only gets read once before it falls to pieces, that’s still more times than it’s likely to if it stays in my house. Books want to be read. They’re pretty pointless, otherwise.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’ve managed to build a fairly effective burglar deterrent out of yours, I reckon.”

Jasper laughed again. A surprised huff of air, just stirring Lewis’s sweat-dampened hair. “Shame they’ve been a boyfriend deterrent too, eh?”

“Jasper, I…” But what could he say when faced with that lost look in Jasper’s eyes? The look that screamed
want me!
at the same time as it whispered
I’m worthless
.

The thunder saved him from having to answer. It rumbled close and loud. How had they missed the lightning? But then a flash illuminated them both standing there, staring at each other.

Jasper cleared his throat. “Your eyes glowed an amazing colour just then.”

They were about to kiss. This was way too romantic for friends with benefits. Lewis glanced over at the open door and the strange, yellowish light outside. “I should get the van inside.”

But even as he attempted to change the subject, the first fat raindrops landed. Dark spots splattered the tarmac outside. He jogged over to the open doors and gazed up at the sky. The clouds boiled alarmingly, the light behind them bruised and sallow.

A pink bolt of lightning arced down to earth with an ear-splitting boom, and Lewis jumped out of his skin.

“Shit!” Jasper exclaimed, right next to him. “Sorry. Hey, it’s okay. Just a storm.”

Lewis buried his face in the crook of Jasper’s neck. “Always been a bit freaked by lightning when it’s that close. Saw it strike a tree once. Half the bark sizzled away in an instant.”

“You’re okay here. It’s fine. We’re safe under cover.”

“I know.” But it didn’t change the way his heart raced and his blood pounded. Being squished up this close to Jasper wasn’t helping either. He smelled of their morning’s exertions, all sweaty and masculine.

Thunder boomed again, even louder, and this time Lewis practically jumped up Jasper’s body, clinging on for dear life. When the rain began in earnest, he barely noticed, but all of a sudden Jasper somehow manhandled them both away from the door. When Lewis finally raised his head, he could see the rain hammering down outside, splashing up and wetting the ground a good five feet or so inside the open door. The sound it made on the warehouse roof was deafening, but at least it would dull any further thunderclaps.

Jasper slowly eased Lewis’s grip on him. “You’re drenched. We both are.”

It wasn’t too much of an exaggeration. His jeans were soggy from the knees down, and the top half of him was damp from the splashes. “I suppose there’s nothing to stop me going and getting the van now, then. I mean, if I’m wet already.” He had to raise his voice to almost shouting over the pounding of the rain.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you out in that.”

“Well, there’s nothing else to do in here.”

Jasper arched an eyebrow.

Oh. There was always that. And he had kind of promised, but he’d envisaged it being later. After their timetabled work hours were up. When Lewis was temporarily out of his role as therapist.

But how could he explain all that over the noise of the rain? Especially when Jasper’s eyes had gone dark, inviting him to fall in and lose himself.

He leaned forward, meeting Jasper in a tentative kiss that quickly turned greedy. His adrenaline already pumping from the thunder, Lewis was more aggressive than he’d normally be, grabbing handfuls of clothing and flesh. He scrabbled under Jasper’s T-shirt and down the back of his jeans.

Jasper matched him move for move, then wrested the upper hand by taking a firm hold of Lewis’s cock through the fabric of his jeans and starting to jerk him off. Lewis moaned into Jasper’s mouth, letting all his frustrated tension out with a strangled noise. Jasper felt so good, his chin just the right side of scratchy, his lips warm, his tongue wet and insistent. And then there was his body, lean and long, bony but with just enough muscle to cushion the sharp edges. The grind of their hip bones together was surprisingly erotic.

But most of all, beyond the excitement of Jasper’s body, there was the awareness that here was a man he could trust. Someone kind and loving who would never deliberately hurt him. No, he’d just drive him crazy by being irresistible and ill-advised.

Lewis almost protested when Jasper dropped to his knees. He wanted to be the one down there, giving head, but when Jasper pulled at his fly with such obvious enthusiasm Lewis couldn’t deny him the pleasure. He let his wet jeans fall to the floor and twined his fingers into Jasper’s surprisingly soft hair, losing himself in the sensations. Jasper was good. Eager and a little sloppy with saliva, but clearly practised, as he could take Lewis deep and do something delicious with both his throat and the flat of his tongue. When had he been practising? And who had he practised with? Lewis should probably be grateful that he wasn’t dealing with a complete novice, but it was excruciating to think of Jasper with anyone else.

Oh God, he had it bad. And he was about to come.

He needed to think of something else. Anything else. Lewis stared at the warehouse ceiling, the flickering light as the rain drummed on the dirty corrugated skylights, but it was no use. The warehouse reminded him of Jasper, because Jasper was the reason they were here. He closed his eyes instead, but then all he could feel was Jasper’s mouth on him, Jasper’s breath against his groin, Jasper’s hands clenching his buttocks and squeezing like he wanted to force Lewis even deeper. Impossibly deep. Lewis focused on his ragged breathing instead, till he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Touch yourself,” Lewis groaned, not wanting to fall over the edge without company.

Jasper stared up into his eyes, and their gazes locked as Lewis shot down Jasper’s willing throat.

The trouble with sex with Lewis, Jasper was discovering, was the aftermath. When all he wanted to do was to doze in the afterglow, Lewis got all twitchy. Was it nervous energy? Second thoughts? Jasper eased himself up from the floor, flexing his knees to work out the kinks, and watched as Lewis righted his clothing and paced over to the door.

“Rain’s easing off,” Lewis called. Jasper couldn’t see his face, but at least his voice sounded normal. Not like in the garden. But he didn’t want to think of a possible repeat of that awful scenario. This time it would be different. Even if Jasper couldn’t control Lewis’s reactions, he could control his own.

And so by the time he strolled over to join Lewis, he’d schooled his face into a casual friendliness. It was a mask slapped over the desperate longing he felt, but it helped a little. He could be normal, or at least learn to act normal. Lewis was teaching him that.

“Think we should start unloading?” Jasper asked, pleased to hear a matching casual note in his voice.

“Yep, we’d better if we want a chance to start sorting. I’ll back Alice in. You wait here.”

With a brief smile, Lewis clasped Jasper’s hand, then dropped it and bounded off into the rain.

Jasper clutched his hand to his heart. He could hold these feelings in till Lewis was ready. He had to. After all, there was no telling how Lewis would react if Jasper told him how he really felt.

That he’d fallen.

Deeply, utterly, profoundly.

In love.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The clear-out was going smoother than Jasper had expected. Lewis and he worked on the hallway and kitchen over the week, filling up a vanload every day before unloading it over at the warehouse. They worked in the afternoons mainly, sometimes Lewis arriving in the van and sometimes Carroll turning up with it halfway through their session, when they’d stacked the front path with as many filled boxes as they could.

Boxes were at a premium, Jasper had discovered. He’d had no idea how many they’d need, but he balked at the idea of buying a job lot of them from a packaging company. No, wasn’t it better to reduce and reuse? So the warehouse was looking even more like a strange, wall-less version of his house, piles of books and newspapers forming a kind of negative image of the rooms there. It reminded him of an art installation he’d once read about, when some trendy young Londoner had filled a house with concrete and then knocked the outside walls down.

But at least Jasper could see properly now his new specs were ready, and the sorting was underway. Lewis had encouraged him to get going with it when the prospect of returning to the house for another vanload got him down. Better to find something that energised him, Lewis said. And yes, strange though it was to discover, working through his books and papers was starting to feel productive. They’d even measured the newly cleared space and calculated how many metres of bookshelf space the hallway would eventually yield. Jasper had the measurements to hand, so he could keep track of how full his house was going to end up.