Run This Town 04 - (Watch Me) Save You

  (Watch Me) Save You

  By

  Avril Ashton

  Sinners Haven Publishing

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks, as always, go to Robin Badillo and Guia (Marie) Fabros. Amanda Atchley and Natalie Peltier, I so appreciate the time you took to hang with the boys. To the psychic Emmy Ellis for the ever gorgeous cover.

  I’d also like to thank the Microsoft Technician who remained calm as I panicked and cried in his ear when I lost the Save You manuscript. Yes. I lost Tek and Quinn.

  I have to acknowledge the readers who email or contact me via my website, or hit me up on FB and Twitter. You have made this journey amazing. Scary, but amazing. Thank you.

  Is love enough to pull two drowning men back from the edge of darkness?

  No one will love you. Tek Ng has heard that statement his entire life, and after all he’s been through, he believes it. The tortured reality of who he is wars with everything else in his world. He’s got a fiancée he doesn’t want, a family legacy he wants to escape, and unrequited love so unavoidable he descends into sexual depravity with the last person he should. Tek is drowning, but he’s not sure he wants to be saved.

  Quinn Storm hides in his quiet house, afraid of his shadow and his memories. At one time he had a husband and a life, but that was snatched away in a violent attack. Hardly daring to live, Quinn is alive only because he’s too scared to end it all himself. He’s drowning and wants no chance at being saved.

  A favor for a friend brings these two men together just in time for Tek to watch Quinn unravel. Quinn quickly becomes the most important thing in Tek’s life, but can he trust Quinn to love him once he realizes what Tek is hiding? Just as they reach for each other, their reprieve is shattered by Tek’s demons, leaving Quinn with the realization that he’s not the only one in need of saving.

  Warning: Contains references to rape and sexual abuse/assault. Tek and Quinn’s story begins in (Watch Me) Body You and continues through (Watch Me) Unmask You, so you’ll get to revisit some familiar scenes, only this time in either man’s POV.

  Dedication

  To LOVE… ’cause that sumbitch stay winning (6/26/2015)

  And to my husband…

  Chapter One

  The lipstick was missing.

  Tek stared down at the stuff clustered on the bathroom counter. His fingers shook, anticipation so hot in his belly, his skin was slick with sweat. He knew the drill, knew what was about to happen outside the locked hotel bathroom door.

  But the lipstick was missing and he couldn’t… it completed the outfit. How was he supposed to be what he needed to be if he couldn’t fully sink into it? Head bowed, he fingered the makeup and the dark, shoulder length wig. He’d look so good in them.

  No vanity, just fact. He was made for this. For the short, tight, black dress that would barely cover his ass. The pink heels, six inches of fuck me. And the underwear, all lace and so fucking skimpy his heart kept jumping every time his fingers slid over the delicious material.

  Made for this.

  But there was no lipstick.

  The sharp knock on the bathroom door made him jump. “We all set?”

  He jerked his head up and cleared his throat, answering the impatient question with a husky, “almost ready.”

  “Then let’s pick up the pace.” Voice so cool no one would ever guess what they were about to do. “I don’t have all night.”

  He bristled. He could walk away. Of course there’d be repercussions, but he could walk away. The choice was all on him. But not really. He didn’t care about repercussions. What he cared about was getting what lay beyond that door.

  The need was a fiery stroke down his spine. The arrangement was beneficial for everyone involved. But inevitably once he came down off his high, he’d curse himself for the weakness, and hate himself for making a deal with the devil.

  Right now? He didn’t care. He’d waited for this for too long. He was about to burst out of his fucking skin with need. Once a month he got to strip away the façade and bare himself to someone who didn’t care who he was, his family’s legacy, or anything other than using him like he wanted to be used.

  He glanced at his phone. The blue LED light kept winking at him, letting him know he had messages. A lot of them. From his mother, who wanted the impossible. From his fiancée, a woman who couldn’t possibly imagine how much he didn’t want or need her.

  The panties fell from his fingers, floating to the floor, and he grabbed it quickly. After undressing, he pulled on the underwear, then garter, stockings and heels then did his makeup. He had to look himself in the eye in the mirror, and he did with a detachment that was all too familiar. He didn’t want to be ashamed of who he was, he didn’t want to hide, but there was no other way. His family was too rigid, the world he lived in too cut and dried, black or white.

  He only had this. And even as he hated it, hated the hold on him and his mind, he welcomed the reprieve from the lies and fake shit. He welcomed it. That was how he knew he was sick. That was how he knew how fucked up he was. Welcoming what was about to happen.

  Makeup done, he eyed himself critically, angling his face this way and that to check it out. He was already transformed, his eyes sparkling, softer, more feminine. In prison he’d caught hell for this. Those who didn’t know thought him weak. His mother was horrified at who he was, what he was.

  Tek was too, sometimes. Times like now, when he saw the happiness in his eyes, he loved himself. Those moments were rare, few and far between. There’d been a time when he’d had safety and protection and caring.

  Don’t think about it.

  This definitely wasn’t the time to think about it, to wallow and feel sorry for himself. That came after he let himself be used. He secured his wig then stepped into the dress. This one he’d found waiting for him when he got there, but often times he brought his own clothes. He kept them in a storage unit under a different name.

  Finally he was dressed. As much as he could be.

  The lipstick was still missing, and he felt… incomplete without it. Still, he met his eyes in the mirror one final time then stepped away, opening the bathroom door and walking out.

  The hotel suite was well lit and very fancy. Tek wasn’t awed by it. He’d known poverty and he known wealth, those things didn’t factor into his life. Not anymore.

  Two people occupied the room, lounging on the plush furniture. Two men. One with dark hair, gray eyes. Tek knew him. The other, blond and skinny, he didn’t. They turned to him, heads swinging in unison as he walked over. He’d long perfected the walk in his heels and he knew what he looked like. It was powerful, just this, their eyes on him, the lust and dark desires that permeated the room. Without him, they’d never get to enact their own fucked up needs.

  He needed them

  But they needed him, too.

  Tek walked over and stood between them, waiting.

  “Face me,” the dark-haired man growled.

  Tek shuddered at the calmness of it. The calmer Stavros Konstantinou appeared, the more Tek had to be prepared for anything. He did as Stavros commanded, faced him. A dark brow lifted as Stavros inspected him.

  “You forgot something.”

  Tek fucking knew that. “The lipstick is missing.” His voice automatically changed when in this persona. Everything changed.

  “Bruce.” Stavros glanced over his shoulder at the blond, and Tek heard the other man get up and walk away.

  He didn’t look away from Stavros, holding himself still as Bruce came over and handed something to Stavros before sitting back down.

  “Come here, pretty.” Stavros motioned and Tek went, dropping to his knees and crawlin
g the short space to settle between his thighs. The approval in Stavros’s eyes washed over his skin.

  He hated how much he needed that fucking approval.

  Tek looked up at him, lips parted, and he knew just the sight he must make. Hungry and eager and so wanton. He knew. The thought made his cock hard, made his hips rock a little even as shame heated his face.

  “You want this?” Stavros held up a small black tube. Lipstick.

  Tek fucking whimpered. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please.” He almost reached for it, almost snatched it, but held himself back at the last possible minute.

  Stavros chuckled and winked before uncapping the tube. Red, bright, almost garish. Before he could blink, Stavros had smeared it across Tek’s mouth, from one side of his face to the other. Top lip then bottom. Just smeared all over his face then he sat back and nodded.

  “You look perfect, pretty.” Stavros dropped the lipstick on the floor and cupped Tek’s cheek. “Who are you? Tell me your name.”

  Every time he came here he used a different name. He licked his lips, tasted the wax of the lipstick. “Jennifer.”

  The coldness in Stavros’s eyes seemed to bleed out and into Tek’s pores when he smiled. “Hello, Jennifer.” He said it almost tenderly and Tek turned, hiding his face in Stavros’s palm. “Go to Bruce, Jennifer. Undress him.”

  Tek did, crawling over to where Bruce sat, hands on his parted thighs, expressionless. The skinny man had already removed his shirt so Tek sat at Bruce’s feet and pulled off his boots and socks. That dealt with, he undid the jeans and Bruce lifted his ass, still silent, face smooth. He didn’t make eye contact with Tek. The men Stavros brought never did. Only Stavros looked at him.

  Tek got it. He didn’t like looking at himself either.

  He pulled Bruce’s jeans down his legs, throwing it off to the side. The blond wore no underwear and his cock slapped atop his lower belly, long and thin and wet.

  “Touch her, Bruce.” Clothes rustled behind Tek as Stavros spoke. “Is she wet?”

  Bruce did, reaching down between them to cup Tek’s crotch. He whimpered.

  Bruce nodded. “Yes. She’s soaked.”

  “Give me her panties.”

  Tek got up on his knees, aiding Bruce as he bent and tore the panties off. Tek lifted one leg then the other for him and when the black lace was free, Bruce tossed it to Stavros. Glancing over his shoulder, Tek watched Stavros bring the material to his nose and inhaled. Under Tek’s touch, Bruce went still. He was holding himself back. Stavros was the one in charge and he had yet to give instructions on how to deal with Tek

  Until he did, Bruce was Tek’s to deal with. He circled the base of blond’s cock, watching his face. Bruce’s pupils dilated and he bit his lip. He lifted his hips, thrusting up into Tek’s grip. Tek stroked him, using his thumb to spread the moisture over his crown. He squeezed that length, cupped Bruce’s balls, and the muscles in his thighs jumped. His lips parted, nostrils flared.

  “Well?” Stavros barked. “Don’t just sit there letting Jennifer jerk you off, Bruce.”

  Bruce’s facial expression changed, morphing from smooth and implacable to a fierce need. He grabbed Tek by his throat. He shuddered.

  “Make me come, bitch.”

  Tek buried his face in Bruce’s crotch, sucking his cock into his mouth. Bruce yelled. Tek sucked harder while sliding two wet fingers down to play with his ass. He didn’t know Bruce and the man didn’t know him. It didn’t matter. They were both there because Stavros wanted them to be. Tek breached him and Bruce rode the digits, dick driving deeper down Tek’s throat.

  Bruce’s breath turned loud in Tek’s ear, and he pulled away and grabbed Bruce’s legs, hooking each one onto the chair sides, opening him up. Bruce scooted lower, brought his ass to the edge of the chair, and Tek dove in, sealing his mouth over his hole.

  The blond bucked, hand at the back of Tek’s head. His lipstick was gonna get fucked up and he hated that, but he didn’t stop. He moaned and doubled his efforts, pushing his stiffened tongue into Bruce’s opening, feeling it contract and squeeze him.

  A large hand slid over his thigh and up, caressing his ass. Tek pushed back into the touch. Bruce’s hold on his head tightened, forcing Tek’s face deeper into him, stifling him. Tek shook his head, trying to shrug off the grip, but Bruce didn’t relent.

  Fingers crept under his dress, cupped his balls from behind.

  “Unnh.”

  All the years Stavros had him dangling on this leash, Tek knew his touch. Too familiar. He craved it sometimes in his weaker moments. Not the man. Never the man.

  He reached up and pinched one of Bruce’s nipples before licking his fingers and ramming them into him. The thin body bowed, and Tek flinched when a dry finger touched his own empty hole, caressing it.

  “Ugh.” He pushed back on it, crying out when Bruce’s ass clamped down on him. Bruce came in a gush, pulsing into his palm. Tek bent and licked it up.

  Stavros grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. “Good girl, Jennifer,” he murmured at his ear. “You deserve a reward.” He moved back behind Tek, and a slick tongue trailed down his crack, dipped into his ass.

  Tek cried out, fingers gripping Bruce’s thighs.

  Stavros chuckled, the sound vibrating against Tek’s skin. Stavros licked him again, and again. Over and over, working Tek’s opening until he was humping Stavros’s face, shoving back on his mouth, trying to get that tongue inside him.

  A finger breached him, dry, save for Stavros’s saliva.

  Tek’s breath hitched and he stared up at Bruce when the blond man caught his chin, holding his head steady, his gaze on Tek. The lines of his mouth were cruel, eyes glinting as Tek rocked back on Stavros’s finger. Stavros fucked him for a little while longer with that one finger before moving away.

  Tek whimpered.

  “Bruce,” Stavros said in a raspy tone. “You’re gonna fuck our pretty Jennifer while she sucks me.” He pushed Tek’s head down, his cheek flat on the chair as Bruce got up and moved away.

  Tek didn’t have to look. He clenched his hands and tried to hold himself steady. Stavros and whatever stranger he chose to bring along with him were the only ones who fucked Tek nowadays. His life was way too complicated to even shed the façade for one night of sex. He waited with bated breath for this, something he didn’t even like.

  With people he didn’t even know or like.

  Spoke to how fucked up he was.

  Stavros took a seat in the chair Bruce just vacated, his naked crotch at Tek’s eye level, inches away from his mouth. He licked his lips and Stavros produced the lipstick again, smearing it on again. Tek closed his eyes, lashes fluttering as he tried to calm his breathing. He clamped down on Stavros’s knees to keep his balance and settle his equilibrium.

  Bruce touched him, flipping the dress up. His hand was softer, but the touch way rougher than Stavros’s. He slapped Tek’s ass, once then twice. Tek threw his head and moaned. Need burned in his veins, desire so thick, he tasted it on his tongue.

  Slick fingers pressed into his hole, sinking deep.

  He bucked. “Ungh.” He rocked his hips, taking him in then the fingers went away and a smooth, hot dick touched his hole.

  “Fuck.” He dug into Stavros’s upper thighs at the pained intrusion. Stavros watched with hooded eyes, hand moving lazily over his cock, dripping pre-cum.

  Bruce bottomed out, making Tek flinch, then he pulled out and thrust in hard. Tek couldn’t contain the moan. The sensation of getting fucked was so fucking good, he shook with it. He missed this, not the people or where they were, but the act of fucking, getting fucked, he missed it.

  Which was why he was so greedy, slamming back on the cock in his ass, then lurching forward to take Stavros in his mouth and sucking him down.

  “Fuck, yeah.” Stavros settled a hand on the top of Tek’s head. “Suck me.”

  Tek sucked him while at his back, Bruce grunted as he pounded into Tek who snuck a hand down and pulled on his
cock. Stavros slammed to the back of his throat and froze there, holding Tek on him. He closed his eyes, his sounds stifled as Bruce pistoned in and out, hitting his prostate with each move.

  “Picturing Elias, are you?”

  Tek’s eyes flew open at Stavros’s snarled words. Wha— His heart lurched up into his throat and stayed. No. He saw the knowledge in Stavros’s eyes. He knew. Tek stared at him, cock in his mouth stretching his lips wide. Bruce had stopped thrusting into him, but Stavros was watching him with that calculating glint in his darkened eyes.

  “Well, are you?” He yanked Tek off and he felt his wig come loose.

  “N-No.” He was hoarse, sounded unsure of himself.

  “Maybe you should.” Stavros grinned. “You know, you can have what you’ve been pining for all these years.”

  Tek shook his head. “No.” But it was a whisper. How had Stavros known? How? Tek had been so careful.

  “Yes.” Stavros grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tight. “Elias is gonna fuck you, Tek.”

  No. No. He wasn’t supposed to call Tek that. He wasn’t supposed to bring up Elias. Not here, not in this space. He tried to free himself. But there wasn’t anywhere to go, not when he was impaled on Bruce’s cock.

  Stavros looked over his shoulder. “Fuck him, Elias. Give him what he wants.”

  Bruce pulled out of him and moved away.

  “Tek.”

  Tek froze. Elias. That was Elias’s voice. He was there? He tried to turn to look, but Stavros held him tight.

  Someone got in position behind him. Not Bruce. Another man, with muscular thighs. Hairy thighs and a thick cock that was pushing into Tek’s already stretched hole.

  “I love you,” Elias said behind him. “Let me love you.” He slammed into Tek

  A sob hiccupped in his chest. It wasn’t Elias. He knew it, he knew it, but he wanted it to be. “Yes.” The man filled him, filled him so good.