“Seve.” I began a feeble protest. Things were starting to go downhill. “I just know what sort of guys these are. Trust me on this.”

  He stared at me. I could see his chest heaving too much for normal breathing.

  “Please,” I said rather desperately. “I knew Peck before, you know? In London. Perhaps I never told you I spent some time there….”

  “No. You didn’t.”

  I peered at his angry face. Hadn’t Peck told him? Maybe Peck never recognised me after all. Maybe it was all one huge weird coincidence. “He runs a racket out of the London club—your uncle’s club. I don’t know how or why Peck turned up here.”

  “But you believe it was to run the same kind of racket?”

  I shrugged. It sounded pathetic in the face of Seve’s confident ire. “I don’t know.”

  “You have evidence of these things? You’ve seen them happening?”

  “No, not here. But you’re not likely to advertise it, are you—?” I knew at once I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “But you’ve seen them in London? Tell me how that was, Max. Did you report this, either to my uncle or the police? No, I didn’t think so. Your silence confirms that. So in what capacity did you see evidence of these events?”

  Just for that moment, I heard the power that he must use with staff or people he wished to impress one way or another. His voice was as strong as always, but it also had a sharp vibrancy that made me want to do exactly what he said. To obey him. And not just in sexual matters, when I was already way more than halfway willing.

  “Sit down,” I said. “Please.” I waited until he did before continuing. “I worked for Peck, once. In London. And not on security.”

  “You were one of those couriers?” His voice was low but still sharp.

  “Yeah. Well, I just did odd errands at first. I needed the money and he didn’t ask for any references, you know? Then it just developed.” It had been some weird kind of promotion. “There were a few of us on the regular rota. I got to know them well. Some of them were very young, Seve. Most of them were users.”

  “You too?”

  I hesitated and flushed, which was an obvious answer to that one. “I haven’t touched anything except alcohol since I moved back down here.”

  “Why did you come back in the first place? If you were doing so well in London—”

  “That’s not what I said!” My voice was loud and Seve flinched. “You think I liked having no money, being dumped, having nowhere to live? It was only going to be for a while. I know I let it get its hooks in me—I guess that happens to a lot of people. And not all of them can get out, you know?” I remembered the kids that Stewart couldn’t help, the sad ones, the mad ones like Baz. I drew a deeper breath and tried to calm down. “It’s all behind me now. You don’t need to know how I got out, just that I’m damn glad I did, and I don’t want to get drawn back down into that sewer again.”

  Seve hadn’t moved throughout my explanation. Now he raised a hand, very slowly, as if to appease me. “It doesn’t matter to me, Max. What you did, what you were. What you were into.”

  “Well, it fucking matters to me, okay? And it matters to your family, doesn’t it? To your uncle. Because that’s who I really worked for, Seve. That’s who paid me, controlled me, directed me!” Seve was shaking his head, his eyes dark, but I didn’t think I could stop now I’d started the tirade. “If your fucking uncle is into all that, why not here in Brighton too? New club, new manager, new market. Why else would Peck turn up on your payroll, doing what he’s best at, running his own sordid little business on the side under perfect cover of a glamorous nightlife, with people who’ve had too much to drink and smoke, who’ve got money to invest in the cycle of dealing and creating addicts all over again?”

  “Max, that’s enough. Listen to me—”

  “No, you listen to me!” I stood up. I was yelling now, God help any neighbours. “Where do you fit into all this? Tell me what’s going on with this family business! Tell me something about you, something I can’t fit on the side of a cereal box. How much do you know? How much do you get involved with? Why aren’t you bothered? Or are you so fucking comfortable here that you don’t question where the money comes from for it all?” Seve’s mouth opened. He looked shocked, but I never gave him time to reply. I gripped the side of the table and leaned menacingly toward him. “Who hired Peck? Why? What were his instructions here? Did he tell you about his job in London? Sharing his expertise, boasting about his success? Did he ever mention a man called Stewart Matthews?”

  “That’s enough, I said!” Seve stood too and grasped my wrist. He twisted it, and I yelped with the sudden pain. But it had the right effect—it shut me up and halted my growing hysteria. We stared at each other, panting. My hair had fallen forward on my forehead, and there was a trickle of sweat running down the side of my face from my hairline. My chest heaved with the agony of my memories and the fury I felt because they were returning. I wasn’t even sure anymore if it was anything to do with Seve or not. I was absorbed in my own horror.

  Maybe Seve saw my breath slowing. Maybe he felt my muscles relaxing. Whatever the reason, he let go of my wrist. I resisted the urge to wince and rub at the sore skin.

  “I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be apologising or even what I was apologising for, but I found myself saying it. “You said I liked to talk, didn’t you? It must be hell for you to cope with. Your guys obviously had it right after all—it’s better I leave you the fuck alone.”

  He caught my arm, even as I drew away. He was gentler this time, though not much. “Stay!”

  “Dammit, Seve, let me go.”

  He didn’t. Instead, he drew me nearer to him. “You think I’m involved with this shit, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I hoped not, but… I couldn’t be sure. It was torture, and all the worse because it was self-inflicted.

  “Yet you still came here with me. Still slept with me.”

  That was an easy one to answer. “I’m stupid.”

  Seve’s expression was odd, unreadable. “No, never that,” he said, softly.

  “Then I don’t know why,” I said.

  “I do. This is why.” He leaned over and kissed me firmly.

  I accepted it, my lips soaking up the moisture from him. The rush of emotion made me dizzy, and the flicker of desire in the pit of my stomach had been heightened by my passionate outburst. Despite my anger and confusion, I wanted nothing more than to thrust my tongue back into his mouth.

  He pulled away first, leaving my lips quivering, searching for his, reaching shamelessly for him. “I’m a sucker for a good kisser, you mean?” My voice was shaky.

  He shook his head like he was tired of my jokes. “I never met anyone like you, Max.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “No, you’ll listen to me now!” He gripped the back of his chair, and his voice was harsh. “That night at the club—when I first saw you. I wasn’t looking for anyone, you know? I think I told you that. I was just looking out for the club. It’s still early days in my job, and I want to do well. I have good staff but I often call in personally in the evening, at least for a while. I wasn’t due to stay around that night. But then I changed my mind—because I saw you.”

  I was silent. It was a revelation, hearing him talk. Did I truly believe him?

  “Yes, I know.” He could see the doubt on my face. “You’d believe that I cruise my own club every weekend. That I pick up a different partner every night to fuck in some dim, silent backyard, with barely an exchange of names.” It was a frighteningly accurate description of that night—of my original opinion of that night. “I won’t deny it, Max. I don’t hold back when I want something. Someone. And I am rarely refused. But that’s not what I was seeking—not that night. Did you see me with anyone?”

  “I… no.”

  “Believe me, I could have had company several times over.” I believed it, because I’d been amazed that night that he was alone. That he’d beckoned to me. “I have always had choice, Max, plenty of choice and willing players for whatever game I suggest. But you appeared at the other end of the bar and that was it. I had to have you. I’d only meant to stay long enough to check how well the new lighting worked on the dance sets, and then I was due to go to a promotional party. Or come back here, which was looking more likely.”

  “You were bored?”

  “I was,” he replied, his voice level. Only the narrowed eyes gave away a hint of other emotion. “But you changed that. Something in you challenged me. It’s not something I’m… used to. I wanted to know you. I wanted to find out about you.”

  “You wanted to fuck me.”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t fazed, whatever sarcasm I threw at him. “And you wanted me to, didn’t you? I saw that in you, Max. But that’s what attracted me—not just the desire in you but the passion barely held in check. The need. The self-control you must have, to act as a different person other than the one you sleep with at night.”

  “Shit,” I whispered. I felt as if I’d been laid bare before him—and far more than physically.

  “That’s what appealed to me, Max. Your passion. I understand that too well. Don’t pull away from me now. Don’t let this strange obsession you have spoil things. Each time I see you, I feel… it’s different.” He shook his head, impatient with himself, I think, not me. “Remember how good we are—how much we pleasure each other. I… I don’t have that from anyone else. I never have.”

  “No guests, Seve?” I looked around the beautiful but sparse flat. Anywhere rather than at those intense eyes. “No lovers?”

  “Of course there have been lovers.” He smiled wryly. “You didn’t expect anything different, did you? But not since you—and not here. I like my sex fast, immediate, and sometimes dangerous. There’s an added excitement to creative locations, don’t you agree? But I do not invite people back here. At all.”

  There was something more here—we weren’t just talking about lovers. There was little enough evidence of Seve’s personal tastes and belongings in this flat, let alone the influences of anyone else. “You don’t let people in.”

  “No, I don’t. But I will for you. In fact, I’ll do more than that. I’ll fight for you, Max. I’ll fight to have you for as long as I can.”

  His hand slid up under my shirt. I realised how close he’d come to me while we’d been talking. While I’d been listening, fascinated, to his deep, rich voice—talking about himself in a way I’d never heard before.

  He nuzzled at my neck and ran a finger of his other hand inside my collar. “I can still see the bruises on you. Does it hurt?” There was a strange tone to his voice.

  “I’m fine. They’re healing,” I replied. My throat constricted and I knew he was trying to distract me. The hand under my shirt slipped around my waist, his fingertips rough yet gentle at the same time. He wanted us to fuck again, I knew.

  “I meant it, Max. I really don’t care what you did before, what you’ve been. It’s now that matters.”

  If only that were true. “I made mistakes. I’m not proud of it.”

  “You’re brave to say so.”

  “No, I’m not.” I shook my head, dislodging his lips at my ear. “No, Seve. Not… I don’t want to.”

  He stilled and pulled his hand away. We both stood there for a moment, the only sounds in the kitchen our breath and the residual bubble of the boiled water in the coffeemaker.

  “I’d better go,” I said. “At the risk of being accused of leaving early.” I offered a wry smile to take the sting away from my words, and Seve smiled back. But the pain and confusion in his eyes were unmistakable.

  “I will look into it for you, Max,” he said. “I promise you.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “No!” He tensed up, scowling at me, and for a moment I could imagine the fear that black look would instill in a recalcitrant employee. “You must believe me. I will look into my uncle’s dealings, prove to you there is nothing untoward at Compulsion. I may….” He paused and restarted. “I will visit my mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  “She will know if anything is wrong. She’ll reassure me and therefore you as well. My family would never allow investment in the Medina Group to be shared with my father, who was only in the family by marriage, so the shareholding rests with Mama. She also retains control of the Nuñez business interests.”

  “She’s still a Medina,” I said and wished immediately I hadn’t spoken it aloud.

  His eyes had darkened. “No more talking,” he said, and I could feel his breath, coarse on my cheek. As he turned away, his hip brushed against mine. His sweats were tented at the groin. But nothing was going to happen between us, I was sure of that. Not yet.

  I retrieved my socks, which were scrunched up in two small piles by the front door. My boots were cold and still slightly damp, but I pulled them on regardless. Seve had followed me into the hallway, his arms held out from his sides as if he weren’t quite sure what to do with them. As I straightened up, he nudged against me and slid a hand back around my waist. I didn’t protest; in fact, I instinctively leaned into him. But when he ran his hand around to the front of my jeans and reached for the button, I flinched.

  “Max….”

  “No,” I said. “No way.” I laughed shakily. “My damn arse is so sore, I’ll be walking into work like John Wayne. I don’t want to have to explain that to my very lusty, very hetero mates, you know?”

  It was another of my weak jokes, but Seve took note. That was another surprise. He lifted his hands off me and leaned in for a kiss instead. I wasn’t going to begrudge him that, was I? It was a long, hard kiss, and his tongue delved deeply into my mouth. I could feel both our hearts hammering against my chest. Then he pulled his mouth away, trailing saliva as a thin silver thread between our lips.

  “You taste so good, Max. I’m going to shower now. How about joining me?”

  My head swam. What a vision that conjured up! I was mad to refuse him, my dick said. Get back to the flat, my head counselled. Either way, I was a mess of thrill and panic. “I… no, Seve. I’m going.”

  He nodded and his cheeks looked pinker than before. “Max, you’ll remember what I said, won’t you?”

  “Of course I bloody well will.”

  “I mean….” He seemed unsure too. “About me and you. I don’t say that sort of thing every day, that… about meeting you. Wanting you.”

  “I know,” I replied. “I understand.” And I thought I did.

  “Go, then. It’s fine. I’ll see you again soon.”

  I paused at the door. I felt I had to say something else, because I wasn’t sure where I’d last left my confused, anguished thoughts. Somewhere down inside my briefs, and that wasn’t necessarily the right place at the moment. “Seve, I will find out what’s going on.”

  “So will I. Trust me.”

  Did I? His smile was tight and the glint in his eyes made my mouth dry. He was very assured, very calm. And so fucking handsome. “You….” This was going to sound so bloody ridiculous. “Seve, you will be careful, won’t you?”

  He laughed. “You’re being melodramatic again, Max. Of course I will! But can’t you stay longer? Let’s have another coffee.” Let’s go back to bed, came the subtext in the sparkling eyes.

  I could feel my traitorous body responding to him again. I mustered up a grin, evaded his outstretched hand before it reached me, and I left the flat. He shut the door quietly behind me.

  The lift crawled all the way down to the lobby. I imagined I could smell Seve’s seed in the claustrophobic air of it—a heady, erotic memory. I strode out of the building as confidently I could and made my way back down onto the promenade. My journey back on the bus wasn’t going to be quite as comfortable as in Seve’s car, but that was a good thing for me at the moment. I sat in a seat at the back for the few stops to Kemptown, just letting my mind empty. The town was filling with shoppers on one side of the road and holiday visitors on the seaward side. Delivery vans and courier bikes dodged around the bus on their way to and from local businesses. I’d withdrawn so far that I nearly missed the stop at the bottom of Jack and Louis’ road but rang the bell at the last minute.

  I stood looking up their road toward the flat I’d come to call home in the last six months. And then I started to climb the hill. After all, where the hell else did I have to go?

  Chapter 16

  I heard Jack and Louis coming back home just as I was trying to fit a final pair of tennis shoes into my bag. I’d washed, body and hair, and dressed in comfortable T-shirt and sweats. I’d called work, had a longer and more awkward conversation with my boss, and chatted with a couple of the other guys who were in the office. Then I’d packed up my pitiful wardrobe and a couple of personal items. I was sure Jack and Louis would let me come back and pick anything else up later.

  The guys were earlier than usual—I’d expected to be gone by the time they both came back to the flat. Louis’ work schedules were erratic unless he was on set, but Jack usually worked a full office-hours day. A glance at the clock told me it was only three in the afternoon. I took a deep breath. No problem. I probably owed them for some food this week, anyway, so it was better I settled up before I went. I wondered where I’d left my wallet, and patted around on the bed to find it.

  “Max, what the hell are you doing?”

  Fuck. Jack at his most assertive, standing in my doorway. Well, the soon-not-to-be-my-doorway. It’d be their spare room again, like it was before I came back and disturbed their life all over. “Don’t make a fuss, Jack. I’ll pay what housekeeping I owe, then I’m on my way. There’s a room going at the same place as one of the guys at work, I can bed down there for the time being. I’ve taken the rest of the day off to get settled in. Eventually I want to look for my own place, but I can’t afford it yet. If it’s okay with you, I’ll come back and collect anything else at the weekend. Or while you’re at work, if you prefer.”