Chapter Ten

“I GOT A massage.” Cooper is dressed, inexplicably, in khakis and a polo shirt.

“The fuck are you wearing?” Arthur asks.

“This is what everyone who goes there dresses like.”

“Is it a massage parlor for accountants or something?”

“Middle school math teachers,” Kit interjects.

Arthur and Kit have arrived at the warehouse early Monday, but Cooper and Micah are already there. Cooper holds up a bag. “I have my kit here to change into.”

“Was it a good massage?” Micah asks.

“I don’t know. It was fine.”

Arthur smirks. “I take it you were expecting a happy ending and it didn’t arrive.”

“I don’t know, man, they seemed exceptionally concerned about money. Like I couldn’t afford to pay or something. You know these pants are Brooks Brothers, right? They weren’t cheap. She kept asking me if I planned on tipping. She even gave me a suggested amount.”

Kit laughs, and all three other men stare at him.

“What?” Arthur asks.

“That was her asking if you wanted the happy ending.”

“Oh.”

“But you, uh, probably didn’t want it anyway,” Kit says. “It would be a bit shitty, wouldn’t it, knowing the place is run by a guy like Jameson.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to actually let anyone do it,” Cooper insists. “I was trying to see if it was that kind of place.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Hmm. Well, at least that answered the question.”

“Damn. I tipped, like, seventy-five percent before I left. I thought she just really needed the money.”

“She probably does,” Kit says. “And she didn’t have to jerk you off, so you probably made her day.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Arthur laughs, deep in his chest, as Cooper feigns outrage. He puts his arm around Kit.

 

ONCE HE’S SUITABLY changed, Cooper flips through a file folder and shakes his head. “No wonder it’s been a fucking mess. You’ve been checking in this many people every day?”

Arthur peers at it. “No,” he says. He looks at Kit. “Why is this—”

“It’s a different kind of scene. More extras,” he explains.

“Therese needs to start checking this with me instead of Maurice,” Arthur complains. “This is the worst possible day for this.”

“Because Jamie isn’t here?” Kit asks.

“What the fuck?” Cooper objects. “I’m here!”

“Uh, me too?” Micah adds.

“Exactly,” Arthur says.

“Fuck you, Arthur,” Cooper says.

Arthur grins. “All right, here are the earpieces.” He opens his bag and gets to work.

The crew arrives soon after them, and it seems like they carry in far more gear than usual. Arthur paces back and forth outside the warehouse doors. He checks IDs for everyone. He matches faces with their files. He checks in the guards and assigns them positions. He tells them to be even more attentive than usual, that there’s an increased risk today.

 

WHEN HE MAKES his first perimeter check, he finds the warehouse set up like a nightclub. Kit is talking to Therese, and Nicole is checking in the other actors. They mingle, laughing with one another. It’s mostly men, but several women are there, too, and others who don’t conform to a binary. Arthur wonders what kind of scene they would possibly need such a menagerie of people for. There are all kinds here, with a variety of clothing styles.

Kit has changed. He’s wearing tight jeans with rips across the thighs and knees. It’s an impractical look that Arthur has never fully understood, but it works. Interest bubbles in him like a simmering pot. On top, Kit wears a tight black shirt, which clings to his body. Arthur wants to tear it off. He wonders if anyone is going to tear it off. I get to take him home. He wonders what they’re going to do to his body, how good they’re going to make him feel, how desperate he’ll be before he finds his release, and how hard it’ll be.

As if he feels Arthur’s eyes on him, Kit turns. He looks him up and down and licks his bottom lip. His lips curve up into a little suggestive smile. Arthur doesn’t hide his appreciative scan of Kit’s body. He lets his eyes linger on the bulge between his legs, on the visibly erect nipples beneath the tight black shirt, on the denim that clings to his powerful thighs. He looks him in the eye. I am going to absolutely wreck you.

Kit’s lips split around a grin. He adjusts himself. The bulge has grown.

“Get your ass back out here, motherfucker,” Cooper says in his ear.

“I’m going to regret bringing you along, aren’t I?” he asks.

“I certainly do,” Micah says. “Already. What are they doing in there, Arthur?”

“Nothing yet.”

“He won’t tell you,” Cooper says. “He’s trying to keep all the good stuff for himself.”

“You’re just excited because you think it’s going to be a gang bang. We all know that’s your thing, Cooper.”

“It’s everybody’s thing—some people just won’t admit it. Even when it isn’t somebody’s thing, it’s their thing, okay, on some level.”

“I don’t think so,” Micah argues.

“It’s a woman—”

“Wrong,” Arthur interrupts.

“Sorry, it’s a person letting themselves surrender completely to sensation and pleasure. Even if the group thing doesn’t appeal, the surrender of it—”

Arthur makes a face. “I don’t think I like hearing you say the word pleasure.”

“Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure—”

“I’m muting you.”

“You can’t!”

Micah’s laugh is audible without the headset.

 

THE NEXT TIME Arthur checks the warehouse, the “nightclub” is buzzing. Music plays, though it isn’t too loud—Arthur imagines the chatter and bass will echo around the space, and the video editors will have to balance all the sound later. Postproduction, that’s what it’s called, right? He’ll have to ask Kit. There are people at a bar that’s been set up, with two scantily clad bartenders pouring drinks. Arthur wonders if they have anything real.

The foreground of the scene is where the action takes place. It’s set up like a dance floor, with dramatic, shadowed lighting and high-top tables around the edges. Kit is on the dance floor, giving himself up to the music. He’s with a woman in a tiny spangled dress, and she writhes against him, hanging on him and swaying to the beat. His eyes are closed, and he loses himself in it. Another couple enter and dance with them. The man is slightly larger than Kit, and his partner is voluptuous, with large pert breasts and exaggerated hips. They take their place beside Kit, and he’s flanked by the group, still moving to the raw beat of the music. He opens his eyes, and they immediately seek out and find Arthur where he’s watching from the shadows. His lips curl up into a smile, which Kit returns.

He keeps his eyes on Arthur as they dance together. The woman seductively presses against him, rubbing against his hips, and his hands trace her curves. Her hands find him, as do the man’s, and Kit bites his lip and lifts an eyebrow. I’d take him to the bathroom, push him into a stall, and show him how it’s done. Or into the back alley.

The man watches Kit intently. He licks his lips, letting his gaze track up and down his body. When the women are both facing away, he reaches out to steal touches. Kit dances harder.

The music changes, and Kit makes his way to the bar. The women head for a table, chatting animatedly, laughing with one another. Kit must be getting drinks for the group. He leans against the bar, and the other man follows him. It’s crowded, and the man presses against him. Kit looks to see who it is; then he looks to the table, where the women pay them no mind. The man lifts his finger to his lip, as if shushing him. He tilts his head, theatrically looking from side to side, and reaches around to get a handful of Kit.

Arthur can only see his face in profile, and it makes something curl impatiently beneath his skin, prickling and bubbling. The man runs his hand along the outside of Kit’s thighs and then sweeps inward, stroking him through those wickedly tight jeans. Kit pushes back against him, rocking his ass against the man’s erection, and a bartender comes to take their order.

Arthur can’t hear them speak, but he sees the bartender talk, as if visiting with the larger man over Kit’s shoulder. Meanwhile, the man unbuttons Kit’s jeans. Kit’s hand comes up to cover his mouth, as if he’s covering a gasp, hiding what they’re doing beneath the bar.

No one around them seems to notice. No one pays any mind to what they’re doing.

The man slides the jeans down.

Another person comes over to order a drink, and the man pushes Kit forward, covering him with his body, as the gesture would hide his partial nudity. The bartender takes his order, then he turns and visits with the large man too.

Arthur still can’t see Kit’s face. He wonders if he can walk around the set, if he’d see him from the other side. He has no official reason to. The other guards are visible. They’re focused on their work.

“Arthur?” Cooper says.

“Mm?” he quietly asks.

“You coming back out anytime soon?”

“In a minute.”

“Jesus Christ, man. You’re lucky we’re friends.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The man lowers Kit’s briefs and, as if there’s no time to lose, begins to stroke his cock. Kit’s body contorts with the shock of pleasure, and again, Arthur is desperate to see his face. A camera is set up to capture it, he knows. Maybe we’ll watch this one together when it’s ready. Then I’ll see his expressions, how he feels, and I can make him feel something even better. He forces himself to keep his hands off his own body and just watch.

The man stops stroking Kit and starts to prod at his ass, teasing him, while continuing his conversation with the man beside him as if absolutely nothing is happening. The man asks Kit something, and he nods but barely responds. He presses his hands onto the top of the bar.

The man behind him backs up a few inches and unzips his jeans, still talking as if nothing is happening. The bartender returns with drinks, and the man pushes his cock into Kit in one long thrust. Arthur realizes he must have prepared himself for this, must have worked himself open with something beforehand. The man smoothly thrusts in, and Kit’s body takes every inch. The bartender places a drink in front of Kit and asks him something. He nods again. Arthur can see that his lips are parted; then Kit bites his lip. The man fucks him in shallow little thrusts. Kit arches his back to press against him, offering himself up. Meanwhile, the man continues to talk to the others, almost as if Kit isn’t there, as if no one notices he’s being pleasured right beside them.

Arthur’s phone vibrates. He pulls it from his pocket—it’s an unrecognized number, so he walks to the door and takes the call.

“Hello?”

“May I speak to Arthur, please?”

“This is he.”

“I have your lab results, sir. Can you confirm your full name and date of birth?”

He does.

“Excellent. Every test came back negative. Full results will be available through our web portal. Did you receive log-in credentials through the email address you provided?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“All right. Do you have any additional questions for me?”

“No, thanks, that’s…that’s good.” He hangs up and imagines Kit beneath him, in his bed, trembling with pleasure, coming completely undone. He remembers Kit telling him, “I can make you forget your name.”

I’m going to make you scream it.

He gets a status check from the guards. He walks the perimeter of the parking lot. He feels like he needs to do a few push-ups to work out excess energy.

“This part of this job is super boring,” Micah complains.

“Good,” Arthur says. “Let’s hope it stays this way.”

“You think this is boring, I should have you do the next stakeout,” Cooper says.

“Nah, man, I don’t want to put you out of a job,” Micah tells him.

“Oh great, now I’m taking shit from you too? I got Arthur, Jamie, you—even Arthur’s new fucking boyfriend. God damn it.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so much of an asshole,” Arthur suggests.

“You’re one to talk.”

“I never said I wasn’t an asshole.”

“No,” Micah says, “Arthur isn’t an asshole; he’s just salty.”

“Salty?” Arthur asks.

“Like an old man,” Micah explains.

“You think I’m like an old fisherman or something?”

“You’re right, kid,” Cooper says. “I can just see him trying to catch some goddamn giant fish while sharks are swarming, going days with it pulling him along but refusing to give up like that fucking book—what fucking book is that?”

“Are you talking about The Old Man and the Sea?” Arthur asks.

“That’s the one. That fucking book. You’re like the—”

“What are you talking about? I am nothing like the old man in that book.”

“Stubborn, self-righteous… Remember that time—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m going back inside.”

 

KIT IS SITTING at a table with his “date” to the nightclub. He nods his head as she chats merrily beside him, and the other man’s “date” replies. Meanwhile, the other man kneels beneath the table, providing oral pleasure. It is one of the most idiotic scenes Arthur has ever seen, but he knows it checks boxes for a lot of people. Forbidden. Public. Cuckolding.

Kit spots Arthur immediately, and his eyes seem to sparkle. Arthur has half a mind to interrupt the scene, toss Kit over his shoulder, and carry him to his truck. He doesn’t even need to get him home—he can find a nice, empty parking lot and… He takes a deep breath.

Kit reaches below the table and grips the back of the man’s head. He pushes him faster, harder, making him take him deep. The man half chokes on Kit’s cock, then pulls back. He strokes him a few times with his fist, and Arthur can just barely hear it. They’ve cut the music now, and Arthur is grateful because it means he hears Kit let out a soft grunt as the man takes him back down, bobbing on his cock.

“What do you think, baby?” the woman asks, regarding who-knows-what she’s been talking about.

“Yeah,” Kit says, “I think that’s good—so good, yes…”

She looks at him strangely and continues to address the other woman. Arthur holds in his laughter.

Kit reaches down with both hands and shifts himself forward so that he can fuck the man’s mouth. He sucks, cheeks shifting with the suction, and he licks and slurps. Kit meets Arthur’s eyes again and winks at him, so fast it would be missed by anyone not watching his every move.

When the scene wraps, after a close-up of the orgasm, Therese calls out for a set change. Kit goes to the side of the set to get cleaned up and drink a bottle of water.

“Most of them will leave now,” Therese tells him. He watches the extras clear out. Meanwhile, the crew moves the set pieces apart, shifting everything around until it’s a bare room. Then they bring out a flat-packed piece that looks like metal. They start to assemble it with power drills, and Arthur realizes, “They’re making a bathroom stall?”

“Sort of,” Therese says. “No toilet. It takes up too much space, and people don’t need that much verisimilitude.”

“Right… And that’s…”

“It’s a glory hole, Arthur.”

“Mm.”

Arthur steps out as the extras leave. “Micah, watch to make sure no one shows up during the exchange. Coop, make sure they all actually leave.”

“Roger that, boss,” Micah replies.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“Salty,” says Cooper.

“I really wish Jamie were here.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” says Cooper.

Arthur just shakes his head.

“Were all those people actually fucking in there?” asks Micah.

“No. They were extras. It wasn’t a group thing.”

“When are the rest leaving?”

“I don’t know. They’re doing another scene.”

“What’s this one?” Cooper asks.

Arthur swallows. “A glory hole.”

“Oh man.” Cooper chuckles. “Anonymous… Faceless… Huh. This one time I stopped at a truck stop out on I—”

“Do you have to tell us this?” Arthur grumbles.

“You got a blow job at a truck stop?” Micah asks. “That’s like, dangerous, man.”

“If you assholes would listen, you’d hear I did not, in fact, get a blow job at a truck stop. I saw the glory hole, got offered more than just the BJ, saw this greasy-looking blond-haired motherfucker with far too much cash running the gig, and got that shithead sent up for thirty years. That was my first trafficking case—and I did it on my own, thank you very much.”

“You did it on your own, which means we weren’t able to trace his connections down,” Arthur reminds him.

“We did too.”

“Took weeks longer than it should have.”

“See what I mean? Salty. You can’t just appreciate the job got done. Ain’t any fish’ll do—just the huge fucking marlin.”

“Have you even read that book?”

“Uh, guys?” Micah interrupts them.

“What?”

“Newcomer, main entrance.”

Arthur signals to the two closest guards, and they move in that direction. A black Mercedes SUV pulls into the lot. It stops for a moment, and Arthur approaches. It reverses, backs out of the lot, and leaves.

“Anyone get out of the car?” he asks.

“No one,” Micah answers.

“Hmm.”

 

KIT IS ON his knees in the stall. He’s nude and hard, and when he shifts his body, Arthur can see a toy in his ass. He shivers. A man stands on the other side of the wall, and his cock is thrust through a good-sized glory hole. It gives him space to lean into it and push himself out to great effect. Kit toys with him. He flits his tongue against it and wraps his fingers around the base. He sucks one ball into his mouth and doesn’t hold back. Arthur hears the man groan on the other side of the wall. Kit pumps his cock with his fist and pulls back with a sly look. He knows he’s getting to him, knows he has him in the palm of his hand.

Arthur is fairly certain Kit has everyone in the palm of his hand. Anyone he wants.

Kit licks up and down the shaft, then takes it into his mouth. Arthur has seen him give…numerous…blow jobs at this point, but every one manages to be different. This one turns on a dime from playful to merciless. Kit’s mouth makes those wet, squelching noises as he bobs on it, sucking hard.

The guy doesn’t last long. They get a close-up of his release, then they wrap for the day. Kit doesn’t get off a second time, and Arthur licks his lips. He doesn’t see Kit clean up, so he doesn’t know… Is the plug still in? Did he take it out? Is he going to…?

Arthur’s body tenses more and more as they take apart the set. It is unbearably slow. One of the techs is painfully inefficient with the power tools they use to disassemble the stalls, and Arthur wants to ask them why they chose something that takes a goddamn hour to put together and take apart when the scene itself couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. Maybe they’ll edit it into something else. Regardless, it’s insufferable.

Kit’s smile seems to grow in proportion to Arthur’s frustration.

Arthur essentially ushers Therese and Nicole to their car. “See you tomorrow,” he says.

Therese gives him an infuriatingly knowing look, and he closes her car door for her.

“Have a good night,” Cooper says, clearly holding in a laugh. Arthur doesn’t even care. He makes sure the door is locked and all but shoves Kit into the truck.

“I didn’t realize you like glory holes so much. Or is it just the public thing in general?” Kit asks.

“No. Well. I don’t know.”

“Who called you?”

Arthur smiles at the question. He did notice. He’s eager too. “The lab called.”

Kit bites his lip, but he can’t hide his smile. “Interesting,” he says. “What did they want?”

“I have a clean bill of health.”

Kit sucks in a breath and lets it out. His phone buzzes. He unlocks it. “Uh.”

“What?”

Kit holds it up. On the screen is a picture of his bed. Their bed. Someone has been in his apartment. Kit reads, “Last chance.” He frowns and looks at Arthur. “The fuck does that mean?”

Arthur stomps on the gas pedal.