Saving Alexander (5 page)

The only saving grace was the script had made it to Dan’s home with him.

The two men regarded each blearily. They’d slept all evening and night and had finally woken up around eight A.M.

“I wish I’d never bloody met you yesterday.” Sage glared at his friend. “The only time I ever seem to feel this way is when I’ve been with you.”

Dan squinted at him from bloodshot eyes. “That’s a bit harsh, Sage. It also sounds a little bit wrong, you know? I’m not sure I would have phrased it that way myself.”

He took a gulp of the piping hot black coffee in front of him. The friends were silent as they watched the news on the TV, the sound turned down because of their headaches.

“And we didn’t even get to go home with the waitress and her friend.” Dan’s face was comical. “At least if we had, this might have been all worthwhile.”

Sage looked at him in amazement. “Dan, if we’d gone home with them yesterday the only thing either of them would have seen would have been us puking our guts out, then falling comatose on the bed. I doubt either of us would even have been able to find it, let alone get it up.”

Dan looked at him. “Speak for yourself. I know where mine bloody well is.” He chuckled.

Sage grinned weakly. “I have to set some ground rules, Dan, if I move in here. I won’t be able to do this. I need to be sure I can get up in the morning or no one’s going to take me seriously. I really want this TV series to be a success. Do you promise me that when I say no I mean it?”

Dan laughed. “No means no. I’ll try not to corrupt you too much whilst you’re here. Scout’s Honour.”

“I don’t bloody well believe you, but it’ll do for a start.” Sage stood up slowly, lest he lose his balance, still feeling fairly drunk despite the long sleep and vowing to turn over a new leaf. “I need to get off home and get cleaned up. I feel bloody awful and I smell it too.” His nose wrinkled in distaste.

Dan nodded. “Fine, buddy. I promise to behave, honestly. I know how important this job is to you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Just as long as you promise to keep those Irish moods at bay. Sage in a strop is one of the most bloody annoying creatures I’ve ever seen.”

Sage grimaced. He didn’t do it often but he’d inherited his father’s predilection for what he’d affectionately called “The Black Irish,” and what his mother had tautly called a “sulk and a fucking menace.”

When Sage’s mood crept up he knew he became sullen, moody and impossible to talk to. While it lasted, he was a definite downer on anyone around him. His mother had to put up with the two men in her life being awkward sods, and how she’d done it without taking a knife to their throats whilst they slept had always confounded both Sage and his father.

Sage reached over, gripping his friend tightly on the shoulder. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I promise I’ll try and keep the moods to a minimum. I’ll probably get here a few days before we start filming, just to settle in. I’ll give you a call. I’ve got the spare key anyway, so I can let myself in if you’re at work.”

Dan worked as an investment advisor at one of the major London banks. He kept long hours and made an obscene amount of money, hence the three-bedroom luxury apartment in King’s Road and the natty suits he wore.

The two friends could not have been more different. But they’d known each other since they were twelve years old and at school together. Dan had helped Sage through many a crisis in the course of his burgeoning understanding of his homosexuality. There wasn’t a man Sage trusted more, other than his godfather.

Sage finally made it home to his cottage just after lunchtime. He was glad to see the familiar sight of his front door as he let himself in, making his way straight to the bathroom. Shedding his clothes in an untidy mess as he crossed the floor, he stepped into the shower and turned on the taps. Jets of steaming water cascaded over his body, washing away the sweat and stale smell of vomit that clung to his body. The taxi driver had sniffed in ire more than once. When Sage finally wrapped the towel around his waist and brushed his teeth, he felt more human.

He made himself a quick plate of scrambled eggs on toast, eating it whilst he read through the script. He had to admit he was impressed. The script was punchy, witty and well written. He could see the definite influence of Alexander Montgomery’s writing. The writer had a unique style, one that was entertaining, dry and in places downright sarcastic. He could see why his books had such an impact.

The basic premise of the series revolved around Carter West, a world-renowned photographer, used to taking pictures in war zones, jungles and other far-flung places, and a fashion model called Gillian Banks.

The two of them meet in Egypt after a bomb explodes at the Cairo restaurant where they were both dining. Carter’s best friend is killed in the explosion. Gillian is injured and Carter ends up at the hospital with her.

Sage chuckled when he read the fairly misogynistic viewpoint of the lead character, a fiery exchange in which Carter gave a no-holds-barred discourse of his view of fashion models.

Needless to say, tempers flared. From that point on, it became a case of bumping into each other all over the city. Finally they admit their attraction to each other and take the relationship to the next level.

Sage really liked the drama within the drama. Things always seemed to go wrong or one of them was in the wrong place at the time. The dialogue was quirky, tender and at times bitingly funny.

His mobile rang just as he was getting to the part where both characters were due to attend some photography awards ceremony and she couldn’t keep her hands off him. It was all fairly erotic and he had to say he looked forward to testing his acting skills in this bit. He answered his phone feeling fairly put out at the interruption.

“Chris Sage.”

“Christopher? It’s Alexander Montgomery.”

He was fairly surprised when he heard who it was. “Alexander. Hi. How are you? And please call me Sage. Christopher is normally only used when someone is really mad with me. What can I do for you?”

“Call me Alex, please. I just wanted to call and say I’m sorry for being a bit short yesterday. I tend to value my privacy and I get a little antsy when people talk about me. But it’s not your fault, really.”

Sage frowned slightly. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Everyone deserves privacy. Believe me, I know better than most.”

“How are you finding the script?” Alex sounded a little wary.

“I’m busy with it now. It’s really good. I’m very impressed and looking forward to getting started. What about you? Are you ready to have your words made into film? It must be quite an honour to have that sort of attention.”

“It’s all a bit overwhelming. But Luke and Janine are really professional and they’re good teachers.”

Sage chuckled. “They are that, quite the characters, the pair of them. I look forward to working with you. I’m sure we’ll get to do a lot of really good stuff together as a couple.”

He flushed as he realised what he’d said. “I mean, what with the publicity and the interviews of course, we’ll probably be together a lot…” His voice tailed off and he shook his head in despair.

How did this man manage to make him say the wrong thing all the time?

“I’ll be moving across to London a few days before we start filming. I’ve had a quiet word with the friend and asked him to help me keep on the straight and narrow so I don’t get into any more trouble.”

Alex chuckled softly and Sage’s heart beat faster at the sound. It was extremely sexy, like the man himself. “I can only imagine what the two of you got up to, so one day you’ll have to tell me the whole story. I’ve got to go now but I look forward to seeing you on set.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon then. Thanks for the call, Alex.”

He disconnected the phone and whistled softly.

Well, he seemed to have come around.

It might be more fun working with him than he’d realised.

* * *

Alex put the phone down with a smile. Sage was absolutely charming with that sexy Irish voice of his. That bit about being a couple had made him want to laugh. He
had
felt bad about snapping at the actor. After all, Alex had created this character especially for Sage because he had such a thing for him.

He couldn’t afford to alienate him.

Alex had a feeling in his gut this charming man was going to be trouble for him. He’d need to be very careful that he didn’t get too close. Sage could never understand this side of him or be able to meet his special requirements. It was why Alex paid Eric, who he was going to see in just over an hour. He’d bought an extra session this week. Madame Duchaine had been most accommodating in freeing Eric up from his other clients. He looked at himself in the mirror. Tonight he was feeling especially needy; the dream of the previous night still preyed on his mind, even though he couldn’t remember it clearly. At least that what’s he told himself.

If he let the memories in he’d go crazy.

Chapter 6

Eric Rossi watched in satisfaction as Alex tried to suppress his cries. The man’s stomach was a mass of short, narrow weals. Blood dribbled down his hardened stomach toward his shaved groin. Eric loved looking at Alex marked this way. He loved his job, loved inflicting pain and getting paid a lot of money to do it. He was
very
good at it.

Eric moved forward, his breathing laboured as Alex looked at him out of those strange eyes, eyes Eric thought made him look like some sort of devil. He ran his fingers down Alex’s stomach, through the blood and the sweat, then lifted his fingers to his mouth to suck.

“You taste good, Alex,” he whispered as he leaned in, his tongue darting in and out of Alex’s ear, his hands slowly caressing the weals on his stomach.

“Here, try some.” He thrust his bloody fingers into Alex’s mouth and Alex sucked them greedily, his breathing deep, his eyes closed in supplication. He was in his usual position, Eric’s favourite, bound to the posts, his body naked with the marks of the last session’s ministrations still visible.

He’d been surprised when Madame had told him he had another session with Alex. Normally once a week was enough for his client, though he’d like to have him more.

He really must be going through some serious stress to come back so soon.

Eric had been harsher with his guest this evening, at his request. Alex was obviously punishing himself for something; they all were in some way. Eric didn’t know why and he never asked. Alex never volunteered the information.

He leaned in toward Alex’s face, his mouth just short of brushing his lips. One of Alex’s cardinal rules was no kissing. Eric wasn’t allowed to take Alex’s mouth with his and it frustrated him. Sometimes he really wanted to kiss him, taste him, feel Alex’s tongue in his mouth, but he knew Alex would choose someone else if he disobeyed. It was probably why he treated him harsher than his other clients. He didn’t like being denied something he badly wanted.

He was naked, his white jeans in a pile by the door. Tonight he’d wanted Alex to see all of him as he tamed his client. As he walked around Alex, his hand stroked his cock, revelling in the feel of his own fingers against his swollen and upright member.

“Do you see what you do to me, Alex?” he murmured, caressing himself, his breath getting deeper and deeper with each touch. “You make me extremely horny and I expect you to satisfy me later.”

He raised the whip again, seeing his prisoner tense, expecting the crack. Eric smiled, thinking there was no point in disappointing him. The whip struck Alex’s buttocks hard, and he jerked in pain. Tears welled in Alex’s eyes, trickling down his cheeks. Eric moved around and licked them as he stroked Alex’s smooth groin gently with his hand and then without warning, slapped it hard, causing a hiss to escape from Alex’s mouth as he raised his whip again.

“Chrysippus,” Alex whispered softly.

Eric stopped in disbelief. Alex had spoken his safe word. He had never heard him say it in the two years he’d been coming here. He laid down his whip, undid the silk ties, then watched Alex walk unsteadily to the bed and lower himself down with his head turned to the side. He must have been in pain from the lashes on his stomach but he said nothing.

Eric walked over to the bed, lying down beside Alex.

This ritual never changed. There would be no talking. It was always the same position, the same way of entering him, never from the front when he could see Alex’s face. This was something else Alex demanded that frustrated him.

It was one of the things Alex had stipulated when he’d joined, as well as not being able to go down on him, something else he really wanted to do. He wanted to taste the other man’s musky scent on his lips, feel his tongue slip around his lovely cock, feel him throbbing beneath his lips as Alex came in his mouth.

But even that was denied him, as was Alex giving
him
a blowjob. It wasn’t on the list of “permitted activities.” He would have liked nothing more than to have Alex’s beautiful, sensual lips wrapped around his cock, tonguing him with deep abandon, taking his balls in mouth and sucking him until he came.

He ran his fingers down Alex’s back, touching the weals on his buttocks then kissing them. He reached for the lube and coated his fingers, sliding his fingers inside Alex, feeling him arch back against him as he pushed into Alex’s wetness and heat. When he’d finished his teasing and finally was ready to enter Alex, his cock sheathed once again in the condom that he hated using, it was with all the frustrated force he could muster and Alex’s body responded to his violence in kind as he pushed back, wanting him deeper inside him.

The noise of skin on skin, sweat on sweat and the smell of blood was intoxicating. As he rammed himself into the needy man panting beneath him, Eric wondered not for the first time what this man thought he had done to deserve such treatment. Alex was his most extreme client. The man took more punishment that anyone he’d ever seen and still came back for more.

As Eric climaxed, his body spasming in his need of Alex, he broke the rules and cried out his name.