Page 77 of Replay
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Spook was mute.Incapable of responding to anything except by letting loose of the rage burning in his soul.He ought to be stopped, and that was what Xane was trying and failing to do.It’d all been bottled up too long.There was too much anger, and hurt so deep it ran like a canyon through his heart.
The dick at the arena had just been some entitled schmuck.A nobody.A forgettable smear on the battleplane of his memory.Ronnie’s blathering—a fly swat of insensitivity.Alle… Alle was like a champagne cork smashing light bulbs as it flew off.He wanted her.Wanted to warm up her arse so fiercely that it stung for days, and he wanted to fuck her.Especially that.He wanted to fill every inch of her, press himself so deep that it was like they inhabited one body.
He’d been ready to tell her everything.It wouldn’t have been easy, but he’d resigned himself to it.Worked himself into a state of detached resilience.All for one encounter to unravel it all.
Ava… Siv… Marshall Hutton.It was too coincidental for them to have all been in the same bar at the same time.It had been a set-up.They’d obviously sought her out and shaken for dirt.Maybe approaching him hadn’t been part of the script, and maybe it had.He’d never know.Didn’t want to know.
Christ!He’d known Ava and Marshall would dig, just not how deep, nor how speedily.They’d obviously all been there to talk, and as a result everything he held dear would be at risk.Assuming it wasn’t already over.Who knew what was going into print at this very moment?
What had she said?How had she twisted it?Second time around, how deeply had she plunged the knife?He guessed…he didn’t know what blame she attributed to him.Over the intervening decade, how much of their past had been rewritten?
He ought to warn Xane, but the words wouldn’t come.Instead, he was pouring emotions into actions.Lashing out because there had to be a release.He should stop.Stop what he was doing to Xane’s body, but he couldn’t.It was like being possessed.His thoughts and actions wholly detached from one another.He raked Xane’s skin with teeth and nails, leaving marks all over him.
Why couldn’t Xane have knocked him out cold the moment he stopped lashing out with his fists, instead of welcoming the bites?
God help him, the reins of control weren’t in his hands anymore.
Seeing Siv.It’d unhinged something.Now, the need to hurt something clung to him like the silken threads of a spider’s web.
All he wanted was a way out.A means of closing himself off from future reality and the downfall he knew was coming.
His only means of escape was to exist in this present moment.To make like this was the only moment that counted.
He wrenched Xane’s jeans down without bothering to undo the fly, the better to reach new vistas of unmarked skin.Unexpectedly, he was sans underwear.Probably, he oughtn’t to have been surprised by that.This was Xane.The man with the sex-drive the size of a juggernaut, and an out of control addiction to go with it.
No surprise then that he was also hard.
Xane’s cock, thickly erect, hugged tight to his gym honed abs.Spook didn’t think as he formed a punishing grip around it.Not once.He only basked in the pleasure-pain noises that his actions ripped from Xane’s vocal chords, and how Black Halo’s leader bucked and arched, eager for more of what was on offer.
It wasn’t right what he was doing, but it wasn’t wrong either.Then again, wasn’t everything like that?Contextual.
There’d been chemistry between them since day one.A connection at the sub-atomic level.Like they were an entangled pair, destined to always have their actions affect the other even when they were worlds apart.
His actions weren’t rational.They were about need, pure and simple.Springing the locks on all the cages he’d constructed promised a velvety sort of relief.
If Xane told him to stop, he would stop.Worn as his resistance was, he still knew some measure of self-control.
It had all been fine until Alle came along and started battering his defences with an enormous ram.
It turned out those walls he’d set in place weren’t composed of granite as he’d supposed, but of glass.Now there were fissures everywhere, and it was all at risk of collapsing.
What the heck was he doing?He could shore it all up, couldn’t he?
Perhaps not.
Who was he even, at the moment?Some fucked up version of himself, or a monster out of his history?
Xane’s hips were pumping, like he couldn’t get enough.If they kept this up, he’d get off against Spook’s palm in a matter of minutes.
Some sliver of sensibility crept in.The film across his vision cleared.
What the hell was he doing?
Spook tore his hand away from Xane’s shaft, and fell backwards, hot and heavy, against the base of the bed.His band mate didn’t follow.For at least a minute, he lay still, breathing shallow raspy breaths that were an echo of Spook’s own.
He was covered in bite marks.Angry purple and red mottled ovals covered his torso, thighs and ringed his neck.Shit!They’d let this get completely out of hand.
