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CHAPTER EIGHT

Kane

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here.” Austin’s smooth voice sent a shiver down my spine as he materialised next to me, leaning against the polished bar top and shooting me a smirk.

“Mr. Carter,” I said, trying to hide my amusement and replace it with cool indifference. Despite our growing friendliness, I didn’t want everyone to think we were that close. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

I hadn’t realised he’d been invited to the birthday party we were currently attending, but then again this was Austin and he seemed to be invited everywhere. The birthday girl was one of the UK’s hottest pop superstars, but in the back of my mind I had the vague feeling she might have done a stint on a kids’ TV show about ten years ago. If she had, she’d probably known Austin through that, whether he’d been on the show or not, since he’d always had a habit of making friends with everyone.

It was a talent I’d never managed to possess.

“Oh, you know me,” he said lightly as he tilted his head closer, like he needed to be heard over the music even though it wasn’t that loud. “I pop up everywhere.”

I snorted. “You’re like a bad smell.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest and I tried to ignore the way his T-shirt looked almost painted on. “You wound me.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“You could kiss it better?”

“Not in public,” I said pointedly, lifting my glass and taking a sip of the obnoxiously sweet signature cocktail the bar was doing for the occasion. Like so many of the A-list parties, tonight’s affair was being held in an exclusive London club which usually had a cover fee that would make most normal people cry. There were live circus and burlesque acts, a packed dance floor, endless amounts of cocktails and champagne, enough flowers to fill the entirety of Kew Gardens, and a six-tier cake that could only be described as stunning.

The only thing that kept the cake from being flawless was that it hadn’t been made by Luke, and I was the sort of loyal friend who thought everything else was a bit rubbish by comparison.

“We could go somewhere private,” Austin said, lowering his voice and sending another shiver down my spine. That voice was dangerous and the prick knew it. I’d dropped to my knees more times than I could count for it. “I’m sure the toilets here are big enough. Or I’ve got a hotel room.”

“A toilet? How classy.”

“You’ve never said no before.”

“Maybe I’m feeling a bit more grown-up than a quick fuck in a club toilet,” I said with a cheeky smirk. Pushing back was the only defence I had against Austin’s wily charm.

Not that it would take him long to disable it.

That fucker knew how to walk straight through my walls like they weren’t even there.

Austin gasped playfully as he flagged down the bartender and ordered two whisky sours. “I didn’t know you could outgrow a club quickie.”

“Well, I have.”

“Good to know. I’ll make sure I always have a room available to take you apart in.”

I bit back a groan and tried to force it into an irritated huff. The truth was I’d have bent over this fucking bar if Austin asked me to, but I didn’t want to give in that easily. I wanted to make him work for it.

Austin could bring any man to his knees with a smile, and it had always irritated me. I didn’t know why , but it did.

I didn’t care about him fucking other people—it was his job and he obviously loved it—and I didn’t care about him using his charm on other people.

But there was a gnawing feeling in my chest which was connected to Austin, one that was getting harder and harder to ignore. The best thing to do would be to address it rather than leaving it to grow, fester, and burst out of my chest Alien -style. But that would mean acknowledging it in the first place.

Although I supposed if I wanted to get technical, I’d already done that.

“How was your audition?” Austin asked, smoothly changing the subject as he pressed a short, round glass into my hand. “Did you hear anything back yet?”

My face burned and my heart skipped. I’d messaged Austin all the details about my audition as soon as I’d gotten home, but here he was buying me drinks and encouraging me to wax lyrical all over again.

“No, not yet.” I shook my head and sipped the new cocktail, savouring the smoky warmth of the whisky on my tongue. “But hopefully soon. I don’t think I’ll cope if they spend weeks agonising over it. I just want to know if they want me to come back.”

“I’m sure they will. You’re perfect, kitten, and I know you absolutely smashed it.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

“I know so,” he said. “Don’t you trust me?”

I laughed but I couldn’t disagree with him. Even when Austin pissed me off, he’d never broken my trust and after ten years, that meant something. “No, I do. But—”

“Then trust me when I say you fucking smashed it and they’re gonna call you back. They’ll probably want you to come in for a chemistry read with the other lead and, depending on who they’ve got, it’s probably turned into a bloody nightmare trying to organise dates and shit.”

He nudged me gently with his elbow and smiled warmly, his expression radiating confidence and belief. It stunned me and made my stomach twist itself into knots as I tried, and failed, to process all the emotions I was feeling. “You’ve got this, Pendleberry. And if you don’t then… I’ll let you choose my next tattoo. And it can be whatever the fuck you want, as cringe as you like.”

My eyes dropped to the skulls and roses tattooed on his forearm, which were part of a three-part set that also included his shoulder and ribs. They looked gorgeous on him and something about the idea of permanently marking him, reminding him of me every day for the rest of his life, sent a possessive rumble rolling through my chest. “Fine,” I said, sipping my drink again. “But it’s gonna be a tramp stamp.”

Austin laughed and pumped his fist ridiculously. “Fuck yeah, baby. Tramp stamp for the win!”

I snorted, nearly spraying the bar with whisky and spit as I tried not to choke. Austin swore and thumped me on the back, which only made me start laughing.

“Jesus, kitten, swallow first next time,” Austin said, rubbing his hand in circles over my spine. It didn’t help.

“This is your fault,” I said as I coughed, my throat suddenly raw from the choking. God, this man was so fucking ridiculous. But it was charming rather than annoying as hell.

“Oh dear.” He didn’t sound sorry as he leant closer. “Would you like a kiss better?”

My front door clanged shut behind us, shaking the doorframe and wobbling the vase of flowers on the small windowsill next to it as I dragged Austin into the tiled hallway of my townhouse in Chelsea. His hands were inside my shirt, already trying to rip the buttons open, and my skin burned whenever his fingers brushed against me.

“Fuck.” Austin groaned as I pushed him against the nearest wall and began trailing kisses down his neck, sucking a mark just above the collar of his T-shirt.

I hadn’t been sure about bringing him back to my house because in all our years of fucking around he’d never come back with me to anywhere that wasn’t a secluded corner, a toilet, or a hotel room. Bringing him here felt like a new level of intimacy, but the idea of him on my sofa… in my bed… naked and fucking me breathless, was the most powerful aphrodisiac I’d ever encountered.

It was like a shot of pure desire straight to my veins.

“Where’s your room?” Austin asked, the question trailing off into a low moan.

“Top floor.” I stepped back, admiring my handiwork on his neck and casually wondering if it would show up in any of his upcoming videos. Then I grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the stairs. “This way.”

“Nice place. Do I get a tour?”

“Tomorrow,” I said as I pulled him up the polished wooden stairs. I was too fucking horny to consider anything but getting his dick inside me.

“Tomorrow?” Austin sounded amused as we reached the middle floor, pulling me in for a deep, heavy kiss that made my head spin. “Am I staying then?”

“Yes. O-Only if you want to, though.”

“Good,” he said, kissing me again. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning before I go.”

“You cook?”

He grinned as he released me and slid his fingers into mine to pull me towards the second flight of stairs. “On occasion. When the mood calls for it.”

I was too stunned to reply. How had I never known this about him? Then again, it wasn’t until recently that Austin and I had started swapping details of our personal lives beyond our STI status. He could have a whole host of non-sexual talents I wasn’t aware of.

And if one of them was making fluffy scrambled eggs, I’d be a very happy man.

Austin whistled as he stepped into my room and flicked on the lights, which consisted of several lamps dotted around the room with soft, warm bulbs rather than a single bright overhead light. The room was a converted loft space with high slanted ceilings and large windows that looked up into the cloudy night sky, letting me forget I was in the middle of the city. The room’s décor and furnishings had a soft blue-grey, lavender, and blush palette, which I’d always found cosy and soothing, and hanging above the bed was a series of watercolour nudes of some extremely gorgeous men. “Very nice. You have good taste.”

“Thanks,” I said as I pushed the door shut behind us, more gently this time. “I didn’t do any of it.”

“None at all?”

“Not really. I gave the designer some pointers and let him run wild.” I chuckled as I led Austin over to the large bed at one end of the room. “I did buy the nudes, though.”

“That fits.” Austin grinned as he began popping open the buttons on my shirt, sliding his fingers across my chest and teasing one of my nipples with his thumb. “You’ve always been a horny, needy boy.”

I wanted to argue that I’d picked the pictures for their artistic qualities as well as the aesthetics of the models, but Austin’s fingers were pinching and rolling my nipple while he trailed his lips down my neck, and any hope I had of forming sensible words failed. I groaned, tilting my head back to give him more room to play as I pushed my chest greedily into his touch.

There were so many things I wanted, I didn’t know where to begin.

I whimpered as Austin released one nipple and skated his fingers over to the other side of my chest. “Do you want to be good for me, kitten?” Austin asked as he grazed his lips across my ear, nipping the soft, sensitive lobe.

“Yes!” I groaned, feeling the hard press of his cock against mine. God, I wanted to suck it. I missed the feeling of his cock stretching my lips wide. “Can I suck you? Please.”

“Of course. I’m never going to say no to that pretty mouth.”

My knees buckled and I sank to the floor much harder than I’d intended, wincing as my knees thudded against the plush carpet. Austin looked down at me with concern, but I nodded and reached for the button on his jeans. The dark fabric was already straining over his impressive bulge and my mouth watered at the prospect of getting his cock inside me.

I tugged his jeans and boxers down, freeing Austin’s thick cock. He groaned as I wrapped my fingers around the shaft, guiding it towards my waiting mouth. I hummed with satisfaction at the weight of his dick on my tongue and the way my lips stretched around him.

Austin cursed, his fingers sliding into my hair, using me more for balance than anything else. “Fuck, baby. That’s it. Take my cock. Mmm, good boy. Fuck, your mouth feels so good. Love the way you suck me.”

I groaned around his shaft because I loved the way he praised me. There was just something about it that hit some button inside me and turned me into a pile of goo. I sucked him deeper, using one hand to pump the base of his shaft at the same rate I bobbed my head, making sure I worked every inch of his perfect cock.

Austin groaned, more filthy praise filling the air around us and mingling with the wet, sucking sounds of his cock in my throat. It made my dick ache as it strained against the front of my jeans, begging for attention.

“That’s enough,” Austin said, gently tugging me off his cock. I whined pathetically at the loss because as soon as my knees had hit the floor, I’d dissolved into a needy cock slut and having it taken away from me was almost physically painful. “I know, I know. Trust me, baby, you won’t be empty for long.”

I huffed out a desperate moan as I looked up at him. His perfect dick was inches away from my mouth, glistening with spit, and it would be so easy to reach out and touch him. Austin saw me looking and smirked as he held out his hand, helping me to my feet like a gentleman before capturing my mouth in a filthy kiss.

“Get undressed and get on the bed,” he murmured. “On all fours. I want you on your knees for me.”

I’d never moved so fast. It was a good thing Austin had already opened my shirt or I’d have ripped it open and woken up tomorrow to find my favourite Vivienne Westwood shirt in pieces.

Austin slowly removed his own clothing, but he seemed more interested in watching me than getting undressed. “You’re so gorgeous,” he said as I slid my boxers off and finally released my cock from its constricting prison. “I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of looking at you.”

My brain short-circuited, leaving me at a loss with my mouth hanging open because that wasn’t something you said to a casual fuck. But I didn’t know how else to respond other than, “Thanks.”

“You know, sweetheart, if you stand there and stare at me, you’re not going to get fucked.” He winked at me, and just like that the moment was gone. I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or not. Either way, the whole interaction had thrown me and left me spinning in a daze.

All I could do was follow his instructions.

I climbed slowly on the bed, showing off my perfect, toned ass for him, spreading my knees just enough to give him a glimpse of my hole and my taint.

“Fucking beautiful, kitten.” His footsteps padded on the carpet as he closed the gap between us, and my breath caught as he trailed one hand lightly down my spine and caressed my ass. My pulse thundered in my ears and I was suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of my body.

Sometimes when he was being an idiot or a prick, I forgot exactly what it was that made Austin the central fantasy of so many men, both through a camera and in reality. But it was in these moments when he’d caught my attention with nothing but a simple touch and his voice that I felt it.

Austin Carter owned my fucking soul.

And I was never going to get it back.