Page 29 of Now Comes the Dark

Mallon put a hand on his shoulder and urged him down. He’d already unfastened his fly. He yanked his jeans open and released his hard cock from his underpants. “There you go,” he said, pressing a thumb against the base of his cock and pointing it towards Roman. “Suck me.”

Roman looked around again. He could hear music and voices drifting from the river side and had no idea if any of the windows above them looked directly down. He didn’t care. He couldn’t say no to Mallon or resist this beautiful dick. With a final check, he took off his hat and stuffed it into his pocket. He slid his tongue along the underside of the head and opened his mouth wide, taking his dick to the back of his throat. Mallon’s cock was good and sticky with pre-cum, and Roman realised he hadn’t been lying about being hard for so long. Mallon groaned and wrapped his hands around Roman’s head.

Roman steadied himself against his thighs and worked him with only his mouth, taking him deep enough to gag before withdrawing all the way to the tip. Mallon’s dick throbbedeach time he deep-throated. He jerked his hips forward, gently leaning in to fuck Roman’s face.

Roman had to hurry him along. They couldn’t afford to be caught in the act. He bobbed his head faster, summoning more spit and creating suction. Mallon’s fingers raked through his hair and twisted. He gasped. “Oh, that’s it. Yes. Going to come.”

Roman kept him in his mouth, on the soft cushion of his tongue and thrilled as Mallon flooded him with his hot, salty seed. He swallowed, amazed at the volume. Mallon had come at least four times last night and still managed to produce a massive load this morning. He was a sexual superbeing.

He laughed, leaning against the wall with his jeans undone, his cock still hard, pointing straight out. “That was intense. I prefer to come in an ass, but you have a very talented mouth.”

Roman rose to his feet, swallowing, and checked to make sure they were still alone.

“Want me to suck you?” Mallon asked.

“I’d rather not get arrested. I think we’ve pushed our luck far enough.”

Mallon shoved his cock back into his pants. “If you say so. Let’s got back to the apartment. I’m going to eat your ass until you beg me to stop.”

Roman had no objection to that plan.

Chapter Eleven

Bad News

On Tuesday night, two weeks later, Roman remained at work for an hour of unpaid overtime. It had become a regular event, three or four times a week, as the workers in the help centre fought to avoid the redundancy axe. Roman questioned whether his loyalty was valued by his employer beyond the voluntary labour. The managers had even come to expect it and looked disapprovingly on anyone who packed up and left at the legitimate end of their shift.

It was wrong, but he couldn’t do anything to sabotage his work record, not unless he wanted to give up on city life and move in with his parents. He’d applied for fifteen jobs in the last month alone and hadn’t obtained a single interview. The employment market was dead.

The cold spell continued. There had been a light layer of snow the previous evening, which had failed to thaw in the sub-zero temperature of the day. Roman fastened his coat to the neck and pulled on his hat and gloves before stepping out through thefront door of the office. The air caught the back of his nose and throat.Damn, he thought,it’s getting even colder.

Not cold enough for him to pay for a taxi or even a bus fare home. That was an extravagance he could not afford. He’d prepared that morning by wearing his walking boots and thick socks and set off on the north side of the river for the long walk, with his earbuds in and a podcast for company.

On the other bank, about half a mile down the river, he could see the tall outline of Mallon’s building. Too far to determine whether the lights were on in his apartment, but Roman doubted it. From what Mallon had told him, he worked long hours and was rarely home before eight most nights, often later. He might have a highly paid, high-flying job, but he certainly put in a lot of hours. They’d gotten together a few times in the last week, but Mallon had been no more forthcoming with details of his life.

Roman increased his pace. It was not the kind of night to dawdle on the way home. He was starving and looking forward to the leftover pasta he’d stored in the fridge. Food, a couple of hours in front of some trash TV and an early night was just what he needed—a perfect Tuesday evening at home.

He was passing through the town centre when a man walking the other way changed course and approached.

“Hi,” the man said, stepping in front of him.

Roman removed the earbuds. There was something familiar about him, though he couldn’t quite place him in his winter coat and scarf. He sported a nasty-looking black eye, and there were marks across his nose and cheek.

“I saw you at the meeting the other Friday,” the man said. “But you left before I had a chance to talk to you.”

Roman looked closer. Blond hair, good-looking. A slight Birmingham accent.Of course. One of his many hook-ups from last year. He scrambled through his memory to find a name.

“Will,” the man said, spotting his confusion.

Roman blushed. “Sorry. It took me a minute to recognise you.”Only half a lie. “I don’t think I actually saw you at the meeting.”

“It was busy, right? I think everyone was surprised by the turn-out.”

“Absolutely.” Up close, he could see that Will had taken a hell of a beating. “Can I ask you what happened?” He pointed at his battered face. “That looks worrying.”

Will raised a hand to his injured eye and gave a shy laugh. “I’m sure you can guess. I ran into the wrong people on my way home on Sunday night. Pretty standard for Blyham these days, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God. No. Shit. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

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