There was a cold sweat on the back of Jack’s neck. “No, I—look, I’m sorry, I—”

“I don’t think you are. I think you liked doing this to me, Gardner.” Theo spat his name, backing away an inch, then smirked. “I think you want me on my knees for you.”

The air was entirely still. A heavy bass thrummed around them. The lights flickered, graffiti shining on the walls.

And Theo Beaumont dropped to the floor.

Oh, Christ.

“You’ve always wanted this, haven’t you, Gardner? Me, submitting to you. Begging. Groveling.”

Theo moved forward until he was right there, below Jack. Jack stared down at his upturned face, his irises almost entirely black.

“Go on, Gardner. Here I am.” He threw his arms out. “You going to hit me? Make me bleed for you?”

Theo leaned in, just those last few inches, and breathed hotly against Jack’s jeans. He looked up at him, breathtaking, from under golden lashes.

“Or is there something else?”

Jack had stopped breathing, that must have been it—that was why he was so dizzy, and why he gasped out, “Fuck, Beau.”

Theo laughed. And then rubbed his pale, smooth face against Jack’s denim-encased prick—which was harder than it had ever been.

This was not how he expected this evening to go.

That’s what he told himself.

“God, you just had to be hung, didn’t you?” Theo muttered entirely to himself. “How the fuck are you fitting in those jeans?”

Jack was in extreme danger of falling over.

“Should I get you out of them?”

He couldn’t remember, later, if he nodded, but he would always remember the whimper which was unmistakable for, “Yes, please, fuck.”

Theo slid his hands up Jack’s legs, slow, agonizing, and reached the button of his jeans.

And then he caught Jack’s eyes, and grinned. “Well, I’m not going to.”

He stood, too quick for Jack to catch the movement, and walked to unlock the door.

“I don’t know why you followed me here, Gardner. Maybe you’re having some sort of post-school crisis—frankly, I don’t particularly care.

“But if you come back, it’ll be you begging.” The lock clicked, and Theo turned back and fucking winked. “And I won’t stop.”

The door to the toilets slammed closed.

The walk back to Jack’s hotel went very quickly and took far too long.

He nearly fell on his face trying to pull down the too-tight jeans, but when he wrapped his hand around his swollen, neglected prick, it took two swift pulls before he came, shuddering, imagining Theo’s filthy red mouth.

Chapter Fourteen

Dear God, Genni was right: he was stupid. Why was he here?