To forget blood.

To forget his whole fucking life.

That’s what made it dirty.

That’s why he needed it back.

The Dom leaned over, sucked the other man’s hard prick into his mouth. All the way back. He had to be swallowing him down, choking on him, and damned if Ben didn’t start to feel a little bit of something.

He kept his fingers going the whole time, kept working the sub’s ass as he sucked him off. The restrained blond struggled, fought against his ropes. Just to feel the burn, Ben wondered? Did he love the way it rubbed his skin raw? Because he didn’t want free. Ben could see that in all of his movements.

The top pulled off, eased his fingers out, before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He ripped open a rubber and covered himself, lubed the bottom’s asshole and then stroked his own cock with a slick hand.

He stood between the blond’s tied up, open legs, without even pulling his pants all the way down. Just before he pushed his way inside, he glanced up, and made eye contact with Ben.

Their gazes locked for a second. He was gorgeous. Sexier than anyone else Ben had seen here. He eyed Ben as he thrust forward. As he plunged into the bottom’s asshole.

Ben jerked, waited, hoped for his cock to grow stiff. He couldn’t fucking lose this. What kind of man didn’t get hard with the scene in front of him? He pushed a hand down his jeans, trying to work himself stiff. Nothing happened. The man pulled out, and then thrust again, over and over and Ben watched, mesmerized. Wanted.

And then the man turned away. Kept fucking as he wrapped a hand around the bottom’s dick. Jerked him off while he fucked him hard, while the tied down man’s body rubbed against wood but didn’t come free.

The two men before him came. Ben didn’t. He still played, stroked, and nothing. The top carried his bottom away.

“Motherfucker!” His mouth watered for a drink—alcohol, but they didn’t serve it here. Drinking and playing didn’t go well together. He hardly noticed a figure sidling up alongside him.

“Are you with anyone?” a blond man asked Ben, looking at the ground. No eye contact.

Ben pushed to his feet, grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. Ben’s mouth went down hard on the other man’s. He opened for Ben right away and Ben took advantage, pushing his tongue into the other’s mouth. Trying to own it. Possess it.

He thrust his crotch forward, making contact with the man whose mouth he took. He felt an erection, begged for his own to come alive and it didn’t. He couldn’t get hard, even though his whole body felt hot. Even though he wanted.

Weak. That made Ben feel weak, so he jerked away. Didn’t say a word to the guy as he stalked for the door. He shoved his way outside, partway down the block and then dropped back against the brick wall.

He stood there and breathed with his eyes closed for ten, twenty minutes. It seemed as though that was all he had now—the ability to breathe and drink because he lost the ability to lose himself in the fucking.

“You don’t belong in there. Not right now.”

Ben’s eyes jerked open and landed on the top he’d been watching. “How the fuck do you know where I belong?” No. I don’t, and I don’t understand why.

“I recognize the look. You’re lost. Drowning. I see it because I feel it. It doesn’t go away.” He crossed his arms.

Then why couldn’t Ben see it in this guy? He wanted it gone, at least to be able to hide the truth that this stranger shouldn’t know about him.

“That doesn’t mean we won’t continue to try, though. Keep trying to fuck it all away and hope for a moment’s peace. Or at least a second to lose ourselves in another. It won’t happen. Trust me.” He took a deep breath and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket before adding, “I’m going for a drink. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

For a brief second, Ben didn’t feel so alone.

When the other man walked away, Ben waited. Breathed. Got angry. Resigned. Then, not sure what else to do, he followed the stranger who might be just as fucking lost as he was.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ben paused when the other man opened a diner door for him. “This wasn’t the drink I’d been expecting.”

The stranger shrugged. “It is what it is. Come if you want. Leave if you don’t.”

The hairs on the back of Ben’s neck stood at that. He didn’t like it, the demanding tone of his rough voice. Reaching out, Ben grabbed his arm. “Who are you?”

His features froze up when he spoke. “The man you watched fuck someone else and who is now asking you out for coffee,” he said in amusement.