Author: Colette Davison
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/colette-davison/page,15,582624-unbreakable.html
Russel’s eyes popped wide. “What?”
“Maybe I want to be your real boyfriend.”
“You don’t mean that.” Russel could almost feel Mac scowling through the top of his head. He didn’t dare move so he could look up at Mac, because he was afraid of what he’d see in the man’s eyes. He’d really done it now.
Mac exhaled, and his whole body relaxed. “Yes, I do.”
Russel’s eyes were flooded with tears again. “No one wants me, babe. You might think you do now because we just had great sex, but eventually, I’ll disappoint you. The sex won’t be as great next time or the time after. Or I’ll piss you off some other way. Everyone discards me eventually. Even my own family couldn’t stand the sight of me.” The raw, long-trapped truth tumbled out of his throat in a desperate ramble. “I’m a big fake. I plaster make-up on to hide my ugly face. I use a fake surname, for fuck’s sake. And don’t get me started on claiming to be a reporter when I’m anything but. I didn’t have enough actual friends to rustle up a date, so I had to bribe a complete and utter stranger into taking me to that stupid fucking party. And I can’t even have a fake boyfriend without…” His words disintegrated into a painful sob that made his chest clench and his throat ache.
“Without what?”
“Falling for him.” He fell apart again. “I’m so fucking pathetic.”
“You’re not.” Mac kissed and held him until the crying fit subsided. “I’m sorry so many people have let you down.”
“I’ve let them down. I can’t live up to anyone’s expectations. I should have been a better son, a better friend, a better boyfriend, a better employee. I fail everyone. Disappoint everyone. I pretend to be happy and full of myself when really, I’m this pathetic, frightened, lonely guy. Oh fuck, I can’t stop talking.” Why couldn’t he stop talking?
Mac chuckled softly. “I don’t want you to. Let it all out, Russel.”
Russel pushed away again so he was upright and staring at Mac. He was shocked to see tears sparkling in the man’s eyes. The chains still prevented him from going too far, but for some weird reason, he was actually glad of that. “Why can’t I be good enough for anyone? Why?”
Mac rubbed Russel’s arms. “You’re good enough for me. You don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations but your own. From what you’ve said, your family wanted you to be someone you’re not. Wearing make-up to give you confidence doesn’t make you fake. Hell, millions of people do the same thing every day. Are they all fake?”
Russel shook his head.
“And for the record, you’re fucking beautiful with or without the make-up.” Mac’s mouth twisted. “Except maybe right now because you have mascara and eyeliner all down your cheeks.”
Russel touched his fingers to his face. When he pulled them back, they were covered in black. “I must look so sexy right now.”
“Not so much.”
Russel let out a watery laugh.
“You didn’t pretend to be a reporter. You were at that stupid fucking party as a journalist. And I read your article, remember? It was fucking amazing.”
“So amazing my boss threw it into the bin.”
“Your boss is an arse.”
Russel sniffed. “Maybe.” His chin trembled. “But you’re the one Remy propositioned. I wasn’t even good enough for a jerk like him.”
“Remy is a fucking predator. Don’t measure your worth by his standards.” He cupped Russel’s face in his hand, dragging the chain around Russel’s shoulder, and kissed him tenderly. “I think you’re amazing. And I’m not just saying that because you spanked and fucked me.”
“But you enjoyed both, right?”
Mac shivered. His eyes fluttered shut, as though he was reliving the experience. “Yes.” He kissed Russel again. “We’ll both do things to piss each other off or disappoint each other, but then we’ll make up for it tenfold. That’s life. We can’t be the best versions of ourselves all the time.”
“I’m not sure I know what the best version of myself is.”
“I do. I’ve seen it.” Mac kissed him again, lips parted so their tongues could caress. “I want to be yours. For real.”
“Are you trying to make me cry again? I’m not sure my face can take being even more puffy and blotchy.”
Mac chuckled against Russel’s lips before kissing him. “Tell me you feel the same way.” His voice wobbled with insecurity.
Russel tried to swallow away the lump in his throat. “I do.” He peppered kisses all over Mac’s face. “If you’ll have me.”
“You’re all I want. Blotchy, puffy face and all.”
Russel tapped Mac’s chin with his forefinger. “You sure know how to sweep a guy off his feet.”
Mac dipped his chin and nipped playfully at Russel’s finger before sucking it into his mouth.
Russel shivered and gasped. “If I wasn’t so tired, I’d be ordering you back onto your knees.”
Mac grinned and then, with his arms and the chains wrapped firmly around Russel’s back, rolled them so Russel was on his back, with Mac straddling him. Mac leant down to kiss him.
“Are you sure you’ll always want me on my knees?”
“This is good,” Russel purred as Mac began kissing his neck. “This is very nice.”
“I think there’s one thing we could do to improve it.”
Russel arched an eyebrow.
“This collar needs a leash.”
*
“Russel, my office. Now!”
Russel cringed as Gerald’s voice boomed out over the open-plan office. “Great.”
Sonya peered at him across their back-to-back desks. “Did you get the interview?” Her voice was a quiet whisper.
“If I did, I’d already be in his office. It turns out Remy’s a total sleaze.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “Good luck.”
“Honey, I think I’m going to need a miracle to get out of this unscathed.” Russel sighed and then fixed a fake smile on his face.
Wayne smirked at him as he trudged towards Gerald’s office, making him feel like he was going to face a firing squad. Maybe he was. He’d tried to jump up above his pay grade and had fallen flat on his face.
He’d barely shut the door behind him when Gerald glared at him. “Where’s my interview?”
Russel’s smile faltered despite his best efforts. “I didn’t get it.”
Gerald slammed his fist on the desk, making Russel jump. “I held off printing this week’s edition because you promised me that interview.”
Russel opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. There was no sense in pissing Gerald off further by pointing out that he’d had no clue that printing was being delayed. As far as he knew, Gerald hadn’t even believed that he’d been promised an interview. He felt tears build up again but was determined not to cry in front of the bullish editor.
“I did my best, but he wanted something I couldn’t give in exchange for the interview.”
Gerald raised his eyebrows. “Like what?”
“He wanted to sleep with my boyfriend.”
Gerald frowned. “A week ago, you didn’t even have a fucking boyfriend.”
Russel folded his arms and lifted his chin. “Well, I do now.”
“Can’t be serious,” Gerald said dismissively. “You should have let them get on with it.”
Russel gaped at him.
“Oh, stop. You’re a big boy, Russel. You know how the world works. Men like Remy Lawrence generally take what they want. The real question is, why weren’t you prepared to take what you wanted?”
“What I—” Russel shook his head, not quite understanding.
“You want to be a reporter, don’t you?”
Russel nodded slowly.
“Then you know what you have to do: get the interview with Remy, no matter what the cost.”
Russel raised his hand. “Hold on a sec. You’re actually telling me to let Remy sleep with my boyfriend, just so I can get a leg up in my career
?”
“Yes.”
Russel couldn’t breathe as his chest tightened.
“Obviously I’m going to have to print the magazine now and find something to fill the space I left for that interview—”
Russel doubted it would be the party article that he’d spent hours writing.
“—but we’ll have it for next week.”
“No.”
Gerald stared at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said no.”
“I don’t think you quite understand, Russel. This interview could make your career. You’re the layout guy. You won’t get another chance.”
Russel took a deep breath. “Maybe not here—”
“Nowhere!” Gerald stood and stared at him. Even on the other side of the desk, he was tall and imposing.
Russel pulled himself up to his full height. He fucking hated it when bigger guys used their size to intimidate him. “It’s clear you and Remy have one thing in common.” He knew he was heading for a disciplinary—at the very least—but he was too angry to care.
“What’s that?”
“You’re fucking bullies. You think that because you’re bigger, have a better job, or the most money, you can throw your weight around and get what you want. Well, you can’t. You’re not getting your stupid interview, and Remy isn’t going to get to screw my boyfriend.”
Gerald gaped at him, his mouth flapping open and closed like a fish on land. “How dare you talk to me like that? You’re—”
“I quit,” Russel said before Gerald could fire him.
Gerald spluttered.
“I’ll clean my things out of my desk and be on my way.” Russel was half expecting Gerald to demand he work his month’s notice, but the bigger man just stared at him.
Shaking, Russel spun on his heel and stormed out of the office. He ignored Wayne’s questioning stare as he went to his desk and began pulling his things out of the drawers. Where was a cardboard box when he needed one?
“What happened?” Sonya asked.
“I quit.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m not going to work for an immoral bully.”
“Finally got sacked, did you?” Wayne asked, sauntering over.
“I quit.” Russel didn’t deign to look at his floor manager. He was already too close to tears to risk seeing the victorious look on the man’s face. “I need a box.”
Without a word, Sonya slipped away from her desk.
Wayne snorted. “Yeah, right. You haven’t got the balls to quit.”
“Darling, I’ve got much bigger balls than you.” Russel could practically hear Wayne self-combusting behind him.
Luckily, the floor manager didn’t seem to want to carry on trading insults, as he stomped away. Alone, Russel kept on sorting his things out in silence.
“Here you go.” Sonya put a box down on the desk a few minutes later. She rubbed the small of Russel’s back. “I’ll miss you.”
He loved that she wasn’t questioning his decision to quit. “Right back at you. We’ll do coffee.”
“Every week.”
Russel sniffed. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Sonya hugged him tightly. “I hope you do. And you still have to come wedding dress shopping with me.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll be there.” He embraced her in return. “My calendar is suddenly very empty.”
His stomach churned as the reality of what he’d done hit him hard. What the fuck was he going to do without a job? He still had to pay rent and bills. Still had to feed himself. Gerald would almost certainly bad-mouth him to the handful of other publications in the city, scuppering his chances of getting a new job in the same industry. He blinked back tears. He would not cry in this building. Of course, the second he stepped out of it, all bets would be off.
With Sonya’s help, he packed all his things into the box she’d found. There wasn’t much—a couple of potted plants, a photo of him and Sonya at the last office party, some snacks, and a spare bag of make-up. It was a pitiful collection, considering he spent more hours at the office than in his own flat.
“Get back to work, Sonya,” Wayne snipped as he wandered past.
“You’d better do as he said. No sense in getting into trouble over me.”
Sonya curled her lip at Wayne. “He’s an idiot.”
“Yes, but he’s an idiot that can get you fired. You don’t want that.”
She frowned. “Only because I have a wedding to pay for, but I think it’s time to start looking for something new. You’re the only thing that’s been keeping me sane these past few months.”
He smiled at her. “I’m glad I’ve done some good. Now shut up before you make me cry.”
“We can’t give Wayne and Gerald that satisfaction, can we?”
Russel shook his head. “Not considering it was only on Monday that Gerald reduced me to tears.” He sniffed. “I should have quit then.” He picked the box up and cradled it in his arms. “I’ll see you around?”
“You can count on it.”
Russel breathed in deeply as he stared at the office that had been his second home for the last couple of years. He was met with the stares of his co-workers, some sympathetic, others apathetic, and then there was Wayne, whose grin made it clear he was glad to see the back of him.
He gave the entire office a flourishing wave. “Farewell.” Head held high, he walked out of the office as elegantly and confidently as he could.
17 Mac
With his hands in a firm bracket hold on the pole, Mac pushed up into a Chinese Flagpole. The muscles in his arms and upper back took the strain of holding his body parallel to the floor, one leg stretched back, toe pointed, the other bent, with his toe pointing towards the opposite thigh. He slowly rotated around the pole. He was supposed to swing his legs forward, into a boomerang, but he caught sight of Remy Lawrence and almost lost his grip on the goddamn pole. Mac didn’t believe in coincidences. Remy wasn’t here by chance, which begged the question of what the fuck the arrogant arsehole wanted, not to mention how he’d managed to track Mac down at Horns. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Remy had known that Russel wasn’t really a reporter, so he’d obviously taken the time to find out about both of them.
Mac sucked in a deep breath and managed to set his feet on the ground, dismounting the pole in a controlled manner. He did a few half-hearted floor moves to finish his routine and then, instead of making the rounds of the punters, headed off the stage and into the changing room, barging past Michael on his way.
“Hey! What’s wrong?”
Mac would have slammed the changing room door shut if Michael hadn’t followed him into the room. He wasn’t pissed off enough to shut the door in his friend’s face.
“Don’t you have a set to do?”
Michael’s brow furrowed. “Yes, just like you’re supposed to be enticing punters into paying for a striptease. What’s wrong?”
Mac sighed. “The jerk is here.”
“Remy Lawrence?”
Mac nodded. He’d told Michael and Edward everything before their shift had started. They’d been appalled at Remy’s advances and understanding of Mac’s feelings and reactions to them. Talking to them felt safe. They were his mates, and there was no chance of the sleazy world of Horns and Remy’s opulent world colliding. Or so he’d thought.
“Is he stalking you?”
Mac shivered at the thought because it seemed too likely.
“The guy has a problem.”
Mac nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing with Michael’s assessment of Remy. “He’s used to getting what he wants. I’m just not sure why he wants me.”
“Well, you are hot.”
Mac arched an eyebrow. “You’d better not let Edward hear you say that.”
Michael shrugged. “I can appreciate the fact that you’re good-looking without fancying you.”
“Uh-huh.” Mac sauntered over to Michael, wiggling his hips in an exaggerated manner. “Admit it:
you want all of this.” He gestured to himself, pursing his lips into a kiss.
Michael laughed and pushed him away. “Edward’s the only guy for me. Besides, don’t you have a boyfriend to snuggle up to now?”
Mac felt an odd fluttering feeling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“You think?”
Mac grinned. “I know.” He scowled as Barry walked into the changing room, glaring and pointing at him.
“You’re needed out front. Now.”
“I’m on a break.”
Barry shook his head. “No. What you should be doing is private dances. It just so happens that you have someone ready and waiting for you with a fistful of cash. He’s waiting in your favourite booth.”
Mac shuddered. “No way.” He knew it would be Remy.
Barry cupped his hand around his ear. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure I heard you right.”
“Sure you did. I know who the guy is, and there’s no fucking way I’m dancing for him.”
“Damn right, you are. With the amount of cash he’s waving around, you’ll be set for the night, and that means more cash for me too. Now get your precious arse out there. I don’t give a fuck what he wants you to do. You’ll do it and hand me a big fat wad of cash at the end of the night.”
Mac curled his hand into a fist. He could easily have punched Barry, but Michael put a hand on his shoulder.
“Easy, Mac.”
Barry’s stare shot to Michael. “What the fuck are you doing in here? You’re meant to be on stage. We’ll have punters leaving in droves if there’s no one to entertain them.”
“We don’t have enough customers to leave in droves,” Michael pointed out.
“Get out there, or I’ll sack both of you.”
Michael gave Mac an apologetic look. “I’ll catch up with you later?”
Mac nodded, gritting his teeth so he didn’t say something dumb. For the first time, he hoped Michael and Edward would buy Barry out. Fuck being safe and keeping things the same; they all deserved better than the way Barry treated them. But tipping Barry off to his friends’ plan could easily ruin it.
“And you.” Barry gestured towards the door. “Get out there and dance for your punter.”
Mac narrowed his eyes. “Or what?”