Young At Heart (2 page)

“You need watch.”

Bewildered, Devon took the phone, staring down at the screen. Luis had set a video to play and Devon frowned, realizing what he was seeing. Antonio, his best friend and Luis' boss, standing in his office with his back to the camera. He was not alone. Devon could see there was someone kneeling in front of Antonio, hands gripping the photographer's hips as they thrust to and fro.

“Why are you showing me this?” Devon asked, looking at Luis in confusion.

It was no secret Antonio was gay. With Antonio there was no hiding it. It was no secret, either, that he had a reputation for being promiscuous, with a liking for younger men. Given Devon's current situation with Jesse it was hardly something he could fault Antonio for, but he had no desire to watch him on the receiving end of a blow job. Porn wasn't really Devon's thing, even when he didn't know the star performer personally.

“Watch more,” Luis said grimly.

A moment later the angle of the filming altered slightly and the person servicing Antonio came into view. Devon's jaw tightened as he recognized the dark head enthusiastically working Antonio's engorged member. Jesse,
his
Jesse, sucking dick for all he was worth. Devon's stomach clenched. Sick with disappointment and disgust, he shoved the phone across the desk toward Luis with shaking hands.

“Watch more,” Luis repeated. He pressed another button and handed the phone back again.

The action had changed. Devon could barely bring himself to look at the small screen, at Jesse splayed out on the desk, naked from the waist down, his legs spread wide, while Antonio pounded into him. Hardly able to breathe, he fumbled with the phone until he finally managed to turn off the hateful video. It did little good. Even with his eyes closed he could still see them, as though the hideous sight was burned onto his retinas. He felt nausea rising in his gut; he wanted to scream and cry, throw things, punch something or someone, but he forced himself to breathe deeply and stay calm.

“Can you send me this?” he asked Luis, fighting to keep the tremor from his voice.

“If you sure you want.”

“I'm sure.”

“Okay.” Luis got to his feet and looked at him sympathetically. “I sorry, Mr. Alexander. I not want upset you, but I thought you need know. I hate see that boy treat you like idiot.”

“Thank you,” Devon said faintly, unsure what else he was supposed to say in the circumstances.

But why not treat him like an idiot when he so obviously was one? Hadn't he been warned, so many times, by so many people, Antonio included? How come everyone saw what Jesse was really like except him? He had used him. Okay, so Jesse had never actually asked for money, but nor had he said no when it was offered. He'd happily let Devon buy him clothes and an expensive watch. Like a lovesick fool, Devon paid his rent, his bills, put credit on his phone. And Devon was the one to introduce him to Antonio, knowing Jesse harboured hopes of becoming a model.

He
was
an idiot, not just for blindly letting Jesse make a fool of him, but for allowing himself to become involved. Jesse flattered his ego, made him feel young again. The sex was mind-blowing. But it was never supposed to be anything serious. It was meant to be a fling, a bit of excitement with an attractive, younger man. Only Devon had fallen for him and he wasn't even sure when it had happened. Worse still, he had allowed himself to believe Jesse felt the same way.

Now it was over. There would be no crying into his pillow. Jesse Young was not worthy of his tears. He didn't deserve them. Devon sure as fuck deserved better. He checked his phone to make sure Luis had sent the video, and then tucked it in his jacket pocket like a concealed weapon ready to spring on Jesse later and bring the little bastard down. Then he straightened his back and, ignoring the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him, went to his meeting.

LATER that evening, Devon stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He looked damn good for his age, even if he did say so himself. His thick auburn hair showed no signs of greying or thinning and his skin was flawless. Bright hazel eyes stared back without a trace of a wrinkle around them. And he had been blessed with a metabolism that meant he could eat pretty much what he wanted without putting on weight. Visits to the gym, when he could find the time, kept his body firm and toned. He ran his hands down his torso. His chest was solid muscle, and a flat stomach led to what he considered to be a perfectly adequate cock and muscular thighs.

So why aren't I enough for Jesse?

The thought crept unbidden into his mind. He shook his head in an effort to clear it. Deliberately, he wore Jesse's favourite shirt, closely fitted to accentuate his pectorals. Let Jesse see what he was losing. What he had thrown away for a quick fuck with an aging lothario like Antonio.

Jesse arrived at eight, breezing through the door without a care in the world. His eyes widened in appreciation when he saw the shirt Devon was wearing and he grinned, obviously thinking he was in for a good night. He threw himself onto the white leather sofa, stretched his long legs out, crossed at the ankles, and folded his hands behind his head.

“I'm starving, husband,” he said with a teasing smile. “What's for tea?”

“Looks to me like you've already eaten.” With a calm he didn't feel, Devon tossed his phone into Jesse's lap. “Watch the video, Jesse.”

Jesse looked up, his beautiful brown eyes clouded with confusion. Devon stared back coldly, saying nothing. He didn't need to. All the answers were right there on the screen. There was the slightest flicker of worry in Jesse's face as he glanced down at the phone, like he already suspected what he was about to see. As the video began to play, Jesse's whole body went still. He took a sharp breath. Obviously he didn't have to see his own head bobbing between Antonio's legs to know what he was watching.

“Where did you get this?”

“That's not really the issue here, Jesse.”

“Dev, I can explain....”

“It hasn't finished yet,” Devon said, nodding to the phone Jesse still clutched tightly in his hand. “There's still dessert to come.”

With reluctance, Jesse's gaze dropped back to the phone, his face turning ashen at the sight of himself spread on the desk while Antonio fucked him hard. Tossing the phone onto the sofa, Jesse got to his feet and approached warily, as if he expected Devon to hit him. To scream, shout, and lose control. Or did he think Devon would crumble in his arms and all would be forgiven? For Devon, none of those was an option. He was so eerily calm he was scaring himself.

“So, are you seeing Antonio?”

“No, you know I'm not.”

“What, then? Because it looks to me like you were seeing rather a lot of him.”

Jesse put out a hand to touch him. Devon stepped quickly back out of reach. It was still Jesse. He was still incredibly desirable. If he touched him, it might weaken Devon's resolve and he was not about to let that happen. He had to stay cool, stay in control of the situation. Jesse wasn't going to take him for a fool, not this time. Not ever again.

“When did it happen?” he asked coldly. “How many times have you been with him?”

Jesse dropped his hand to his side and contemplated lying. Devon could see the battle raging in his head. Bluff it out or come clean? Decision made, Jesse sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“It was just the once. The day I went to see him about modelling.”

The revelation took Devon's breath away. He remembered that day well. After all, he had been the one to beg Antonio to meet with Jesse; the blind, trusting, love-struck moron who paid for Jesse's taxi to Antonio's studio, never imagining his best friend and his lover would end up fucking at the earliest opportunity. Thinking back, he should have seen the signs. Jesse had been strangely subdued when he got home that night, considering Antonio had promised to use him in a high-profile photo shoot. He had been reluctant to celebrate and, for once, had not wanted sex. Now, at least, Devon understood why.

“I didn't want to,” Jesse continued earnestly. “He said I had to if I wanted the job. He said a blow job, but then he just didn't stop.”

“So you prostituted yourself for a job?” Devon glared at him in disbelief. Antonio might be a lot of things, but he would never force himself on a man who was unwilling. If he had sex with Jesse it could only have been because Jesse was up for it. “You think that makes this any better?”

Jesse pushed a hand through his dark hair, clearly trying to think of something to say that wouldn't dig him into an even deeper hole. “It's okay for you. You grew up in a rich family with parents who loved you. I grew up with nothing. I was in care by the time I was four and spent the next ten years in and out of different foster homes. You want to know how many of them abused me?”

“I didn't know.”

Jesse had never said anything before. It was no surprise to learn he had no family, but it wasn't something he ever talked about. Devon hated himself for doubting him, wondering if Jesse was spinning another one of his elaborate stories to gain sympathy.

“I didn't tell you,” Jesse said. “I thought you would have researched me or something, with you being so rich and everyone telling you I was bad news. Maybe they're right. Maybe I am. You really want to know why I let Antonio fuck me? It's because I took off when I was sixteen and ever since then I've done whatever I've had to do to survive. And I'll carry on doing whatever, with
whoever
, until I get somewhere in life.”

“I see. I assume that includes me.”

“What? No! Of course not. Never you, Dev. I never wanted anything from you.”

“Oh, look at yourself, Jesse!” Devon was suddenly angry with him; angry with himself, too. For a minute there he had almost felt sorry for Jesse. Then Jesse admitted he was exactly what everyone said he was and any sympathy evaporated. “That shirt you're wearing? I paid for it. And the jeans, too. If I remember correctly, I also paid for your shoes. I bought you the watch on your wrist and, oh yes, I'm sure I just gave you this month's rent.”

“That's not fair. I didn't
ask
you for any of it.”

“You didn't have to, Jesse. You knew I was stupid enough to give it to you anyway.”

“Fine.” Jesse unbuttoned his shirt, stripped it off, and threw it to the floor with a flourish. “If it proves I'm not after your money, you can take it all back. I don't want anything you paid for.” He kicked off his shoes; unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them; then he tore the expensive watch from his arm, throwing it onto the coffee table. “Satisfied?”

“Thank you.” Devon eyed him coldly, refusing to be moved by a childish display of temper. “And now I'd like you to leave.”

For a moment he thought Jesse was going to argue, but, for once, it seemed as though he had nothing left to say. He stared at Devon, his dark eyes filled with shock and bewilderment, but it was the look of hurt that surprised Devon most. Suddenly, Jesse looked for all the world like a sad, frightened little boy unable to comprehend what had just happened. Realising Devon was not about to back down, Jesse turned and headed for the door.

“Jesse.”

Jesse spun around, eyes ablaze with hope.

“I believe I paid for the underwear as well.” Devon watched impassively as the younger man slowly peeled off his tight jersey boxer shorts and stood there awkwardly, using his hands to cover his genitals.

“Now you can go,” Devon said.

THANK God for weekends. For the two days that followed throwing Jesse out into the street naked, Devon hid in his apartment, switched off his phone, unplugged the land line, closed the lid on his laptop, and ignored the door buzzer. Fortunately his building had security and no one would get as far as the front door without his say-so. Lounging around in his sweats, eating ice cream straight from the tub, and watching weepy chick flicks had never been such a comfort.

Monday arrived all too quickly. He dragged himself out of bed with a marked lack of enthusiasm. It was too soon to face the world and listen to people say ‘I told you so'. He dressed in his most severe business suit, hoping against hope his austere appearance would be enough to deter people from approaching him.

It didn't stop Jesse. He was waiting outside Devon's office building; unshaven, dishevelled, the dark shadows under his eyes suggesting he had slept as little as Devon over the past couple of nights. As soon as he saw Devon, he rushed across the road, pleading for a chance to talk things over. Jesse's voice was hoarse, and for a moment, Devon wondered if the boy had cried as much as he had since finishing their relationship. He hoped so. Why should he be the only one to suffer? Without speaking to Jesse, he swept through the revolving doors and into the foyer, stopping briefly to instruct security not to allow Jesse inside the building. Then he continued up to his top-floor office.

Emily jumped to her feet as he approached. “I'm sorry, Mr. Alexander. I know I shouldn't let visitors into your office, but he pushed past me.”

Devon felt an irrational surge of panic, thinking at first Emily must be talking about Jesse. But that was impossible, he reminded himself. He had only just left Jesse downstairs on the street. Even if he managed to get past security, there was no way he could have reached the office first. He had to get a grip. Not everything in his life was about Jesse, even if it felt that way.

Pushing open the office door, Devon's heart plummeted when he saw Antonio. After Jesse, the photographer was last on the list of people he wanted to see right now. Grimly, Devon nodded at Emily to tell her it was okay and entered the office, closing the door behind him. Without looking at Antonio, he put his laptop on the desk and lowered himself into his chair.

“What do you want, Antonio?” he asked coldly, glaring across the desk. How dare the man sit there, cool as a cucumber, after what he had done? He
knew
Jesse was taken and he had fucked him anyway.