Falling Bundle Page 5

  This was new territory. Max had never wanted last night’s conquest to stay before, and he wasn’t sure how to do it. Maybe he should make breakfast. Pancakes. Was that what you did the morning after? He could find a recipe. Coffee as well. Whatever would make Arjen stay a little longer.

  He started idly wondering what it would be like if he persuaded Arjen to move in with him. If it would be like this all the time. They could spend every morning lazy and blissful in bed. He began to half doze, half dream.

  Then his eyes snapped open.

  He was stone cold awake in seconds, the glow winking out exactly like he’d expected. He stared at the peeling wall in his run-down flat on the wrong side of town.

  It had just dawned on him what he was doing. Cuddling up to Arjen, fantasising about having a life together, waking every morning to Arjen in his arms. Like they were going to end up married reading the Sunday papers in bed together.

  What a stupid, pathetic fantasy. Trying to make a home never worked out. The second you thought you’d built something it all came crashing down. And even knowing that, he wanted Arjen in his life so fucking badly it could kill him. Because after knowing Arjen for just a few days he already couldn’t imagine letting him go.

  His throat closed up and his jaw clenched as he locked himself down. This was too dangerous, it was not allowed. He had to put a stop to this right now. He pulled his arm from around Arjen; Arjen made a sleepy sound of complaint, trying to snuggle deeper into Max’s arms.

  “Get out,” Max said. It came out low and cold.

  Arjen turned over, still sleepy, and his face fell when he saw Max getting out of bed and dressing. “What?”

  Stay with me. “I said get out.”

  The words hung in the silence between them. Unmistakeable.

  Arjen opened his mouth. Closed it again. He looked as though Max had hit him. “That—that’s it? You want me to leave?”

  “What did you think was going to happen?” Max sneered. “I’ve fucked you. We’re done. Out.”

  Arjen couldn’t seem to find words. He had to try several times before he got out a sentence. “Did—did I do something wrong? Last night? Because I could practise, I—”

  “You were all right. For a beginner. Now get dressed.” Max tossed him his shirt.

  Arjen shut his mouth. The slow colour was rising in his face, his jaw set tight. He picked up his shirt and started to dress in silence.

  Max waited, arms folded, for him to finish. He was trying not to think about how it had felt to wake with Arjen in his bed. How terrifyingly like happiness.

  Stop it. It meant nothing. He did not need Arjen. At all.

  He threw Arjen out with one last parting shot. “You were too easy.”

  Arjen gave him a look of pure hatred and walked away.

  At least now he could forget about Arjen.

  It turned out he could not, in fact, forget about Arjen.

  When a week passed and he was still thinking about it, Max started hitting the gym harder. Then the bottle. It failed to drown out the longing. Max began cursing himself steadily for ever touching Arjen.

  Arjen’s absence was a constant ache. The nights were lonely, but the mornings were worse. He would wake in the warmth of his bed, glowing again with remembered contentment, convinced that if he just opened his eyes, Arjen would be asleep in his arms. And every time he opened his eyes to find himself alone his heart cracked a little bit more.

  He honestly could not understand what was happening to him. It had never been like this before. After he’d fucked somebody, it was game over. His interest in them ended. Usually they started calling and whining about wanting him back and then he was even less interested in them.

  Needless to say, Arjen had not called. In fact, Max had not heard one word from Arjen since that morning.

  That chilly silence was driving him up the wall. Because Max still wanted him. If anything, even worse than before. Arjen made him crave all kinds of stupid things, like the way Arjen wound his arms around his neck when they kissed, the way Arjen smiled against his mouth. Which was why Max had to stay away from him.

  So when Arjen’s housemate Cate walked into the coffee shop where Max worked, Max nearly had a heart attack.

  He froze behind the counter. This was not in his plan. It was so far outside his plan that he could not find a single word to say. He hated being seen here, in his low-level, low-paid, low-respect job, when everybody else he knew seemed to be a solicitor.

  Cate fixed him with the world’s iciest stare. She was looking especially polished today, her chocolate-brown hair pulled back in a complicated knot, while Max was stuck in a stupid uniform. “Do you remember me?”

  His throat was dry. “I’m at work, Cate.”

  “I can see that.” Cate delivered that line without a single inflection. “I’m here about Arjen.”

  Max brightened. Maybe Arjen had sent her to beg him to take Arjen back. “What does he want?”

  “Nothing. I’m here to tell you to stay away from him.”

  Max folded his arms. “He wants me back.” That would make perfect sense. Max had fucked somebody, he’d lost interest in them, they wanted him back. It had happened a hundred times.

  “You obviously don’t know Arjen.” She laid down each word very precisely. “He wouldn’t take you back if you begged him.”

  Customers were turning to stare, the shop falling quiet. Max could feel his face burning and it pissed him off even more.

  “I just want you to know that you’re not good enough for him. Arjen is smart, he’s successful, he’s fantastic. He deserves someone who treats him well, someone who sees him as more than a quick fuck.”

  Max bit his tongue. Because for a terrifying moment, he wanted to say: He is more than that to me. And that just didn’t happen.

  “If you come near him again,” Cate said, “I’ll call the police.” And she turned and walked away.

  Every inch of her infuriated him, from her perfect hair to her perfect dress to her perfect shoes. The rage rose in him like a volcanic eruption. “You’re jealous,” Max hissed, ignoring the queue of wide-eyed customers. “You hate that he likes me better than you. Too fucking bad. He wants me. Me!”

  Cate walked out without looking back.

  His grip on the counter was so tight that the metal creaked. His uniform collar was choking him. His manager was bearing down on him at full speed. He took several deep breaths to force down his fury.

  This was driving him up the wall.

  By Monday he could not stay away from Arjen a single day longer. The urge to see him wound tighter like clockwork until Max was on the very edge of snapping. He was convinced that he wouldn’t last another hour without seeing him again. It terrified him.

  He told himself it would just be sex, nothing more, so it would be all right. It wouldn’t crack his fragile life right open.

  Max lay in wait outside Arjen’s law firm just like last time. The cafe across the street had an empty table outside that he took. The temperature had dropped and the wind hurled stinging drops of rain at him, but he barely registered them. He sipped expensive coffee that tasted like ash in his mouth and drummed his fingertips on the metal table top as he stared across the street.

  Arjen spotted him the moment he stepped outside. In fact, he looked straight across the street to the cafe, making Max think that he might have expected this. Maybe he fantasised about Max waiting for him just like Max fantasised about seeing him.

  But that was stupid. Arjen clearly wasn’t that interested in him or he would have fucking called.

  Their gazes locked. Arjen’s eyes widened, then narrowed, dark and cold. Seeing him again took Max’s breath away; he was seized by the need to touch him. Max was halfway across the street before he’d even realised he’d gotten up.

  “That’s close enough,” said Arjen.

  Max forced himself to stop, fists clenching. “Arjen—”

  “Save it.” Arjen turned and walked away.


  Max’s jaw dropped. It had not occurred to him that Arjen would shrug him off so casually; this proof that his obsession was one-sided cut him deeply. He followed Arjen, falling in behind him as Arjen pushed through the rush-hour crowds. “Don’t walk away from me, Arjen.”

  “Strange you should say that,” Arjen said through his teeth. “Since last time we met, you told me to get out.”

  Max caught his arm. The fabric of his coat was slightly wet from the morning’s rain. Arjen spun to face him; his muscles tautened beneath Max’s grip and for a second Max expected him to hit him. Arjen spelled it out for him slowly. “Take your hands off me.” He was especially hot when he was furious, with that blazing look in his eyes, the colour high in his face. The wind caught at his coat and tangled its fingers in his hair.

  “I’ll take my hands off you when I’m good and ready.” Because even this brief contact was feeding a part of Max that had been starving for days. He could not believe how much he had missed touching Arjen.

  Arjen jerked his arm out of his grip. Just like that. “You lied to me, Max.” He spat the words. “You told me to trust you. You said I was safe with you. You promised.”

  Max stared at him, stricken. He had figured Arjen would be stung by his rejection, he’d seen the look on Arjen’s face, but it hadn’t occurred to him that he had broken his trust. And Arjen’s obvious hurt made him feel small inside.

  He didn’t know how to explain. He had been so alone for so long that he could hardly imagine having what he wanted desperately: Arjen at his side, in his arms, in his bed.

  Christ’s sake. He was being stupid again. The only game Max understood was getting people into bed; that was all he was good for.

  He reached for Arjen again. Arjen moved sharply away. “I will call security from my work if you don’t leave me alone.”

  Fine. Max stepped right up to him, barely an inch away. It forced Arjen to react, his breath catching, his eyes darkening. The tensing of his body said that he expected Max to grab him again at any second. Max drank it in. “I want to fuck you again.”

  “I thought you were done with me.” Arjen threw his own words back at him.

  “I said I want to fuck you. That’s all. Don’t get all fuzzy.”

  “Why would I ever want to sleep with you again?”

  “You seemed to like it well enough last time.” Max met his eyes.

  Arjen flushed. They were both remembering that endless night: Max’s insatiable hunger for him, the number of times he had made Arjen come underneath him. Arjen scrabbling at the covers, his body arching and tightening around him, his voice raw from crying out. Max had never wanted anyone so badly, never wanted so much to give pleasure.

  “It was all right,” Arjen said with a decent attempt at indifference. It was a cruelly accurate echo of what Max had said to him that morning.

  It stung unbelievably to be told that Max’s best efforts to please had failed. Max’s jaw tightened. “Don’t fuck with me, Arjen. You liked it plenty. The only reason you wouldn’t want me to fuck you again is if I hurt your feelings.” He made it scornful, as if it was impossible that Max could have hurt him.

  Arjen’s chin came up as his eyes narrowed. “You know what? You’re right. You didn’t hurt me, because I don’t care about you. At all.” Each word was a stab. Max fought for calm. “So why not fuck? It’s no big deal. When I get tired of you I’ll just find someone else.”

  Max seethed. He was going to prove that he was irreplaceable. “Fine,” he snapped.

  “Fine,” Arjen snapped back.

  “You can come to my place. I’ll sort you out.”

  Arjen jabbed him in the chest with his finger. “I don’t think so, Max. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the one kicking you out.”

  Max barely suppressed a growl. That simply would not happen to him. Would. Not. Happen.

  He took Arjen hard by the arm. Arjen glared at him, but this time did not fight his grip. “Fine.” Max bit off the word. “Let’s go to your place. I can fuck you anywhere you want.”

  Max drove him home in simmering silence. He had to fight not to fidget; tension and urgency sizzled in him, making him twitch with the urge to move. He wanted to fuck him, wanted to hold him tight, wanted to beg for forgiveness. It would be simple to reach out and take Arjen’s hand, but the six inches between them in the car might as well have been a chasm. There was no way he could cross it.

  It was probably just as well. If Max touched him for even a moment he might not be able to hold himself back. He wanted him so badly he could barely think.

  Arjen stared straight ahead, his jaw set tight. If he was half as wound up as Max, he wasn’t showing it. Damn it. Max was going to prove to both of them how much Arjen wanted him. He was going to make Arjen beg before he was allowed to come.

  “Cate’s out?” Max’s voice came out tight with strain. He was gripping the steering wheel.

  “Yes.” Arjen kept it equally curt.

  Good. So there was no reason Max couldn’t fuck him against every surface in the house.

  They parked. Got out of the car. Max barely noticed the tall house looming in front of him, its freshly painted door, the roses blooming in every corner. He couldn’t think about anything except the man beside him. They stood so close he could feel the heat of his body. It was maddening.

  Arjen took forever to get his house keys out and open the door. Max gritted his teeth. He was not going to tell Arjen to hurry up. He was not going to—

  The door opened. Max gripped him by the back of the neck and shoved him inside, his impatience bursting out, stepped into the hall and kicked the door shut behind him. Arjen turned toward him and Max slammed him into the wall with his full weight. Their mouths crashed together. The chemistry between them was instant and irresistible. Every ounce of his frustration and longing set him on fire with ferocity and he gripped Arjen’s hair to keep him in place so Max could kiss him some more. Arjen gasped as he arched up into him, one arm around his neck dragging him down to kiss him deeper, his free hand already under Max’s shirt.

  His touch ignited an even fiercer longing. Max couldn’t wait any longer, he was shaking with eagerness, with hunger. He ripped at Arjen’s shirt with absolutely no care for his expensive tailoring; buttons zinged off and skittered across the floor. He pulled his shirt off and bent to bite his throat, then his shoulder, marking the bare skin with his teeth. Arjen gasped again and Max got a tighter grip on his hair, holding him still for Max’s mouth. He cupped Arjen through the front of his trousers, squeezed and rubbed as he sucked hard on the fragile pulse at the base of his throat, and Arjen made a strangled sound.

  “Strip. Now.” Max yanked at his belt, fumbled with the button. Arjen helped him, both of them clumsy with need, then he finally got Arjen as naked as he wanted him. He pushed a finger into him with no attempt whatsoever to be gentle; Arjen said “Oh,” his whole body arching, and Max rubbed that sweet spot inside him mercilessly. “Oh!” Arjen was clutching him now, pressing into him, entirely his.

  He ought to take more time, make sure Arjen was ready for this, but he couldn’t slow down, this need was killing him. His possessive fury was so huge that it shut out thought. He just lifted Arjen braced against the wall and slammed home with one savage thrust.

  Arjen cried out in pure desperation. His body clenched so unbearably tight that Max damn near lost it there and then; it took a monumental effort of will not to spill himself deep inside him. His grip tightened on Arjen’s thighs, his fingers biting home. He forced Arjen wider and slammed into him again. Arjen was frantic beneath him, pleading with him, and the next time Max drove home Arjen came violently. His arms tightened around Max’s neck and his body arched again. He was shuddering, gasping, rocked by his climax.

  “Couldn’t wait, could you,” Max growled in his ear. “Knew you wanted me. You always do. I’m not letting you off this easily.” Max gathered him into his arms, still sheathed tight inside him, carried him into the kitchen and threw h
im down on the table.

  It creaked beneath the impact. Max didn’t care. His sole focus was on the man beneath him. When he pushed back in Arjen groaned; his spent body must be doubly sensitive now. Max spread his legs wider, holding his thighs open, and Arjen leaned back, bracing himself on his hands. His face was dazed, his hair a mess. Max began driving into him over and over. He was going to make Arjen come again if it killed him.

  It struck Max suddenly to wonder if Arjen had brought anyone else home since Max had kicked him out. It had been a week, he could have bedded a different man every night. Dozens of them. Hundreds. The thought filled Max with an irrational fury. He took Arjen by the chin, forcing Arjen to meet his eyes. “Who have you been with since the last time I fucked you?”

  Arjen jerked his chin away. “That’s none of your damn business.” The roughness of his voice gave Max intense satisfaction.

  Max recaptured his chin. “It is my business. Was there anybody?”

  “What do you think?” said Arjen coldly.

  He pictured another man in his place between Arjen’s legs, driving into him exactly like this, and his anger rose in a growl. “You sleep with me, Arjen. Just me. Nobody else.” He gripped Arjen tighter, starting to pound harder. Arjen’s gasp melted into a moan. “I’ll give you what you need. Plenty of it.” Harder still until Arjen was starting to cry out again. He was going to leave Arjen so exhausted that Arjen couldn’t even think about sleeping with another man. “Tell me there was nobody else.”

  Arjen turned his face away. His face was twisted with strain.

  “I’m not letting you come until you tell me there was nobody.”

  And Max didn’t. He dragged it out impossibly long, until he was shaking with the urge to finally come in him, until Arjen was begging him again, hot and slick and open for him, and only when Arjen finally whispered the truth to him—“Nobody, Max, God, there was nobody”—did Max allow them both sweet, blessed release.

  Arjen came for him wonderfully, clutching him so tight, while Max spilled himself so fucking hard it was like fireworks lighting him up. He could only grip Arjen hard as he pumped pulse after pulse into his body.