If The Seas Catch Fire(53)

He didn’t get out of the car. Never did. He just needed a place where nobody would bother him. Every time he left Mama’s room at the home, he came to a place just like this, killed the engine, and stayed in the car.

He didn’t like people seeing him cry.



*



Some nights, Sergei could work after visiting Mama. Others, he could barely move. Tonight was one of the hard nights. Before his shift, he’d sat in his car for a good twenty minutes, staring at the dashboard and wondering if he even had the energy to turn the key. Somehow, he made it to the club. And he made it through one dance. And now he just wanted to…

Sleep? Die? Drink himself senseless?

The answer came as he struggled through his second dance of the night. Every time another customer came in, he caught himself hoping it was one man in particular. And whenever the new arrival wasn’t Dom, Sergei felt even lower. Even more lethargic.

He struggled through his dance, and his tips reflected it. The winning bidder for a lap dance barely broke fifty bucks, and probably left feeling like he didn’t get his money’s worth. Fuck. Sergei’s head was not in the game tonight.

Leaning against his locker in the back, he tapped his fingers on the edge of his cell phone. On the screen was Dom’s number—under a fake name, of course.

Text him? Forget it?

If they met up, it was for one thing and one thing only, and Sergei couldn’t decide if that would be a good thing tonight. Just thinking about the mechanics of sex exhausted him. He’d barely been able to move his limbs enough to shower, drive down here, and change into these skintight leather shorts. Anything more than that—especially something as taxing as sex—made him want to curl into a ball and never move again

But getting into bed with someone was appealing, too. He craved that close contact with another human being while shutting out the rest of the world—the death, the crime, the shell of the woman traumatized out of her own mind.

He closed his eyes and swallowed. Even if it took all the energy he had and then some, he needed to feel human again, and he could think of no other place to recharge himself than in bed with the only man who’d touched him like a human being in years. It was a long shot, thinking Dom would be available or willing, but he sent the message anyway.

Can I see you tonight?

As soon as it was sent, he started gnawing his lip. This arrangement had been about Dom, not Sergei. Dom could say what he wanted about this thing being two-sided, but they both knew it was about him getting his sexuality out of his system before he had to pen it up forever and be a good straight man. There was nothing in their unwritten agreement about Sergei’s needs.

His heart sank lower. No matter how emphatic he’d been on that first night that he was not a prostitute, suddenly he was all too aware that that was exactly what he was now. He was servicing another man. Giving him what he needed with no right to expect anything in return. He might as well bite the bullet and start charging Dom, since this was just—

His phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen. The message was simple as they often were: When/where?

Sergei’s lips parted. Disbelieving he’d even gotten a response, he sent back, I can get a room. Send you a msg w/address. ASAP?

And to his surprise, the response came quickly:

Ready when you are.



*



When the motel room door opened, Sergei’s jaw dropped.

He really came?

Of course he had no reason to believe Dom would lie to him, but Sergei trusted no one, took no one at their word—and he’d learned long ago not to depend on anyone else. When he needed someone the most, that was when promises came up empty.

But Dom… he was here. Just like he said he’d be.

As he stepped into the room, their eyes met. Sergei’s heart sped up. Dom closed the door, and the click hit Sergei’s nerves like gunfire.

He jumped, pulling in a sharp breath.

“You all right?” Dom came closer. “You seem kind of…” He slid his arms around Sergei. “I don’t know. Tense?”

“I’m fine. I’m just…” Sergei ran his fingers through Dom’s hair. “You’re here.”

Dom cocked his head. “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

Actually…

“I didn’t… I mean… I guess I thought—”

Dom cut him off with a soft, insistent kiss. “I’m here. I meant it when I said this thing wasn’t just about me.”

They separated enough to meet each other’s gazes.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Dom asked.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry.” He cursed the weakness in his voice. “I just don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“You won’t be.” Dom kissed him softly. “I’m here.”

Sergei finally managed to smile. “Yeah. You are.” He brushed his lips across Dom’s. “We’re both still dressed, though.”

Dom laughed. “We should do something about that.”

“Agreed.”

It didn’t take them long—with what seemed like a few quick motions, their clothes were at their feet. The next thing Sergei knew, Dom was pulling him down onto the bed, his skin hot and bare. When Dom rolled him onto his back, Sergei didn’t resist. He let himself be laid gently on the sheets, and shivered as Dom lay over the top of him. Any reservations he might’ve had about being under a larger man were gone. There was nothing threatening about Dom, and even if there had been, Sergei didn’t have it in him to put up his guard tonight.