Screwing the System (18 page)

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Authors: Josephine Myles

BOOK: Screwing the System
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“Erm, I don’t think so. But I could probably learn one if they’re your favourite.”

“Aww, you’re a sweetie!” Sadie threw her arms around him and gave him a bubblegum-scented kiss. “I hope you and Alasdair get married. I could be your bridesmaid. There’s a really pretty pink dress in M&Co.”

“I don’t think we’re getting married.”

Sadie’s face fell, and Cosmo felt like a bastard for deflating her dreams. Time to change the subject. “How come you work here for Alasdair?”

“Duh. He asked me to.”

“So you applied for a job?” He tried to imagine Alasdair with his stern face on, grilling Sadie about why she wanted to clean his house. The idea of Alasdair employing someone with special needs just didn’t fit with the picture he had of him. That wasn’t the decision of someone who put profit before people.

“No, silly. He asked me. I’m on the Sunshine Scheme.”

“Sunshine Scheme?”

“Mavis is in charge,” she said, as if that explained everything. She bounced up again. “I’m going to dust in here first. D’you want me to put my music on? You could learn all the tunes. I’ve got some Justin Bieber too, but I don’t like him as much anymore.”

Cosmo’s heart sank as she pulled a pink MP3 player out of her jeans pocket, but he put on a smile just for her. “Yeah, you do that. I’d love to hear your music.”

The smile she gave him in return was worth putting up with some manufactured pop for.

 

 

That night, snuggling up on the sofa with Alasdair after dinner, Cosmo remembered Sadie again. “Would you believe I ended up spending my morning learning a song by Justin-sodding-Bieber?”

“Sadie?” A fond smile transformed Alasdair’s face. “I probably should have warned you, shouldn’t I? But I thought it was some other lot she was into these days.”

“It is, but she still thinks ‘Baby’ is the bestest song ever, apparently. You do realise Bieber Fever is contagious, don’t you? I could start fancying twinks with stupid hair; then what will you do?”

Alasdair’s fingers stroked along Cosmo’s chin scruff. “I think maybe I’ve already caught it.”

“Oi! I’m not a twink.”

Alasdair chuckled. “Sadie thinks you’re a cutie. She told me when she got back to HQ. Thanks for humouring her.”

“No worries. I like her. So what is this Sunshine Scheme she was on about?”

“Just something Mavis set up. A way to get people with learning difficulties into paid work.”

“Huh. That’s nice. And you fund it?”

“That’s right. But it’s not a drain. They earn their pay. Unlike some work-shy individuals.”

Ouch. “Hey, I worked today. Besides learning the Bieber back-catalogue, that is. I’m writing a new song. Wanna hear it?”

Alasdair nodded, and Cosmo just couldn’t resist leaping up and breaking into the chorus of “Baby”, complete with pretend mic in his hand. Alasdair’s puzzlement quickly gave way to amusement. He grabbed Cosmo’s mic hand and pulled him down onto his lap. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a cheeky rascal?”

“I think you bring out the worst in me.” Cosmo ground against Alasdair’s crotch shamelessly. “Maybe you’d better discipline me some more, boss.”

“Maybe I had.” Alasdair yanked Cosmo down into a bruising kiss.

Chapter Fourteen

Those first few days were stranger than Cosmo had expected. On the one hand, Alasdair went off to work and left him to his own devices all day, so it wasn’t like he could say the man was monopolising his life. But on the other hand, Cosmo had to agree to a timetable for the day with him over coffee every morning, after they’d taken their morning run. A timetable that included not only the occasional one-offs like attending the doctor’s for some blood work on the first day, but at least an hour in the gym and two hours spent practising the guitar every single day. It wasn’t like Cosmo resented either of those things, but the demands for Alasdair’s homecoming were a little more challenging.

“You what?” he asked when Alasdair made his additional requests known on the Saturday morning. Cosmo didn’t mind being asked to wear the black jockstrap Alasdair placed on the table, as that looked pretty sexy, but the butt plug was a step too far. “That thing drove me nuts.” He was fucked if he was wearing it all day. “You don’t want me wandering around with a boner in front of Sadie, do you? She might get the wrong idea.”

“I don’t want you to wear it when Sadie’s here, just for the last hour before I get home. I want you ready for me.”

“I’ll be more than fucking ready. I’ll be going out of my mind. I’ll probably pop the moment you touch me.”

“Hmm…” Alasdair stroked his jaw. “Perhaps a cock ring too, then. Have you ever worn one?”

“No.” Cosmo started to wish he’d never mentioned the discomfort.

Alasdair’s expression turned wicked. “I think you’ll like it. Should help you to keep control of any lustful urges until I get home. Come on, you can choose one, and I’ll show you how to put it on safely.”

“Safely? You mean they’re dangerous?”

“Only if they don’t fit properly and you leave them on too long. Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen to you. I’m far too fond of this”—he cupped Cosmo’s package under the table—“to risk causing it any harm.”

Cosmo grumbled as he followed Alasdair into the master bedroom, but he forgot his complaints when Alasdair unlocked and opened the wardrobe on the left.

“Jesus H. Corbett, you’ve got a whole fucking sex shop in there.” It wasn’t a wardrobe after all but a series of pull-out drawers filled with pieces of equipment in leather, metal, wood and plastic, most of which Cosmo didn’t recognise.

Alasdair snorted. “Hardly. Just a few bits and pieces.”

“So are you going to try them all on me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what they all do yet.” But he wanted to know. The thought of Alasdair commanding him to wear some of those things whether he liked it or not had his cock swelling in his jeans.

But Alasdair clearly had other ideas right now. “This one looks about right,” he said, picking up a plain silver ring, “But I have leather or silicone, if you prefer.”

Did he? Oh fuck. Too much choice. Cosmo’s brain shorted out.

“I think we’ll just try this for now,” Alasdair continued. “But you’ll need to get rid of that hard-on before we can get it on you.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Not a problem. Glad to see my toys having this kind of effect on you.” Alasdair just sounded amused, the smug git.

Once Cosmo had thought about Rizzo for long enough to get his stiffie to subside, Alasdair helped him feed his cock and balls through the ring. Of course, the sensation of its cool weight made him get hard again, much to Alasdair’s delight.

“Oh, you are a responsive boy, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a fucking
boy
.”

Alasdair nuzzled his neck, the touch of his stubble raising goose bumps all over Cosmo’s body. “No. You’re a gorgeous, sexy man, and you’re mine. Now go take a cold shower so you can get that off again, and you can put it back on later when you do the plug. You’re not allowed to come again until tonight.”

Cosmo’s head reeled, but he did what Alasdair asked.

The rewards would be worth it.

 

 

Alasdair’s exercise regime was challenging, but not too arduous. Cosmo enjoyed the small and simple home gym he’d set up, even if the ridiculous amount of bench presses Alasdair wanted bored him senseless. However, after complaining about that, the next day Alasdair arrived home with a brand-new iPod for him. He was about to turn it down, but his old MP3 player was getting unreliable, and the man clearly had money to burn. That was why Cosmo had been surprised when first viewing the gym and seeing nothing more than a bench, a set of weights and a very basic, if expensive-looking, multigym.

“Where’s your exercise bike and your treadmill, eh?” he teased. “Run out of cash, did you?”

Alasdair sniffed. “Those are for wusses. Real men run and cycle outside.”

“Even when it’s raining?”


Especially
when it’s raining.” Alasdair assured him. Cosmo wasn’t so convinced.

At least when they went out running, Cosmo wasn’t expected to wear a plug or a cock ring. However, when Alasdair suggested a cross-country route, he had tried to press on Cosmo some trainers that looked like they cost more than an entire year’s worth of Jobseekers’ Allowance.

“I can’t accept these.” Cosmo stared at the scarily high-tech shoes. “The iPod was lovely, but not these too.”

“Why not?” Alasdair looked up from where he knelt, fastening his own trainers. God, the man looked fine in his tracksuit. He’d looked even better before he put the long-sleeved jacket over his vest, though. All those tattoos laid out on display.

“Too expensive, and I’ve got a pair of trainers already.”

“What, those things?” Alasdair’s nose wrinkled at the old pair of Reeboks Cosmo retrieved from the cloakroom. “They should be shot and put out of their misery.”

“I like them.” Cosmo pondered the truth of this as he gazed down at the scuffed leather and worn soles. “They’re comfy.”

“Well, fine. If they’re really all that comfy. I suppose these ergonomically designed, air-cushioned ones with trail soles couldn’t possibly be as comfy as those…
things
.”

“I’m keeping my shoes.” It was the principle of the thing. He didn’t like being a kept boy, and he refused to give in to Alasdair when it came to his clothing. The jockstraps he’d concede, as they made him feel sexy, but he didn’t see why anyone else should have jurisdiction over his outdoor shoes.

Of course, half a mile into their cross-country run, Cosmo began to regret his stubborn insistence. He’d forgotten how much these trainers pinched his little toes, and that bit where the lining had worn through at the heel that rubbed his ankle. And then there were the fraying laces…

“Shit.” Cosmo watched Alasdair run onto the churned-up bridle path, blithely ignoring the sucking mud underfoot. “Bloody nature,” he grumbled, setting off after him. You didn’t get mud like this in town. It was downright rude, the ground getting all uppity and trying to knock him off balance and swallow his shoes. If he fell over, it’d probably carry on sucking him down like a pool of quicksand. Alasdair would look back and all he’d see would be Cosmo’s hand waving him a final good-bye.

No wonder Alasdair was so fit, if this was his daily exercise routine. Those tree-trunk thighs weren’t the result of his home gym after all. No, they were just the natural result of fighting the quickmud.

Cosmo wiped away the sweat dripping into his eyes and saw Alasdair waiting up ahead. He was pretending to examine something in the hedgerow, probably to save Cosmo’s feelings. He’d probably had no idea just how unfit, aerobically speaking, Cosmo really was. Must be the smokes’ fault, not that he’d admit it to Mr. Holier-than-thou.

“What’s up?” Cosmo wheezed as he ground to a halt. God, that felt better already. It wasn’t just his quads that were aching. Felt like every single muscle in his body was screaming in protest.

“Just checking on the nest. A couple of blue tits were building it last time I took this route. Looks like they’ve hatched their brood now.”

Cosmo peered into the dark recesses of an uncomfortably prickly bush. “Can’t see nothing. Oh, wait, is that it?” While he squinted at the dark shape, a bird flitted out right over his head. “Shit. Ow.” The shock had made him jump, slashing his arm with one of the spiky branches. “God, is everything in the countryside this bloody hostile?”

“It wouldn’t be called a hawthorn if it didn’t have thorns.” Damn, the man was laughing at him. Cosmo could see it in his eyes, despite the grave expression on his face.

“I didn’t know it was a hawthorn, though, did I? Christ, it wasn’t like they even tried to teach me this stuff in school.”

“Are you sure? I think I remember something about it from my school days.”

“Yeah, back in biblical times, maybe,” Cosmo muttered.

“Oi.” Alasdair cuffed him playfully. “A bit of respect for your elders and betters, please.”

“You might be older, but I don’t know about better.”

“Really?” Alasdair’s eyes glinted a challenge.

“Yeah, better in what way? Okay, you’ve got the money and the fancy name plate on your office door, but face it, mate, you’ve made it all by scrubbing toilets. It’s hardly classy.”

Alasdair raised his eyebrows, the corners of his lips twitching in what Cosmo now thought of as his hidden smile. Like the man couldn’t let go enough to let it take over his face like it should.

Cosmo continued, hoping to either release that smile or get Alasdair riled. It didn’t matter what, but he wanted a genuine reaction, not some half-arsed version of one. “My nan scrubs toilets for a living, and she’s common as muck, just like me.”

“Hey.” Alasdair grabbed hold of Cosmo’s wrists. “You’re not common. Don’t ever say that about yourself.”

“I am, though. There’s a hundred million kids like me out there. Grown up in broken homes on rough estates, dreaming of getting out and doing something with their lives. Hardly any of us do. We just end up getting a crappy job and drinking ourselves stupid every night to make up for the waste of our lives.”

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