Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (10 page)

“Come on, that’s enough about me and my woes. You tell me something about yourself. You’re such a man of mystery. I been dying to know what you get up to the rest of the time.”

“Ummm, there’s very little to tell.” Cherise knew about the shop and the sculptures because he’d told her already, while lying on her bed, watching her smoke and run her fingers idly over his chest.

“You must have had some amusin’ customers. What about your junkyard punk? The one who tried it on with you that time?” Cherise chuckled. She’d found the whole story of Derek “Dare to my mates” Nelson propositioning him incredibly amusing, he recalled.

“He hasn’t been in for a while. There is this new chap, though. Mas. I can’t call him a customer because he hasn’t actually bought anything yet.” Just how much did he actually want to reveal about Mas? “But he did try on some trousers. And he wants a job.”

“Oh? I didn’t think you could afford to pay no one.”

“I can’t. He says he’ll work for a split of the profits. I think he must be mad, because that place’ll never make any profits worth shouting about.”

“He wants to work for what might be nothin’? You should take him up on it, sweetheart. There’s precious few hard workers around these days. You should have met the last man who tried to convince me to give up the whorin’ for him. Waste of space couldn’t even hold down a part-time job for longer than a coupla weeks, though. I sent him packin’. He wasn’t good enough for my little girl either.” She kissed the top of Jamela’s head and snuggled her in closer, so her face was mashed against Cherise’s ample bosom. “So, what’s this Mas fella like?”

“He’s…” Perry pondered his next words carefully. Beautiful wanted to spring out, but that sounded odd when describing a man, didn’t it? “Fascinating,” he settled on. “And talkative. Extremely talkative.”

“Is he young? Good-lookin’? Charming?”

Perry nodded, feeling his cheeks start to burn. Where was she going with this line of questioning?

“He sounds like the perfect shop assistant to me.”

Phew. “Yes, but…”

“But what, sweetie?”

How could he put it? “He’s…unsettling. He says things. I think he’s flirting with me.”

“Oh.” Cherise looked like she was trying to hide a smile behind her coffee cup. “And does that make you want to hit him like you wanted to with the punk bloke?”

“No! Of course not. It makes me want to k—” Perry stopped himself just in time. Bloody hell. Was that really what he wanted? He wanted to kiss Mas? He shut his eyes, but a vision of Mas puckering up those luscious lips and leaning in closer filled his inner vision.

He opened them again to find Cherise studying him carefully. “Sweetheart, I think you should give this man a chance. Sort your little shop out together. Maybe you’ll even have more time to do the things you enjoy, then.”

“That’s exactly what he said.”

“Well then.” Cherise shrugged like the matter was settled. “You give him a trial run. Take it a week at a time. You don’t want him around anymore after the first week, you just kick his sorry arse out of your life.”

Would it really be that simple? Perry tried to imagine himself firing Mas. Seeing hurt well up in those expressive eyes. He’d hate to be the cause of that. And if he didn’t take him on, he’d never have to risk seeing it. And he’d no longer be tempted to kiss him and see what happened next.

But then again, he’d also probably never get to see Mas again, and that wasn’t exactly a cheerful prospect.

“I’ll think about it,” he told Cherise, putting his tea down, half-drunk. The slight off tang to the milk was becoming more and more apparent as the drink cooled. “I’ve got to go and do my groceries. Would you like me to pick you anything up? My treat.”

“I could do with some calamine lotion for Jamela. And milk would be good. She does love her Coco Pops. Only thing she’s eatin’ right now.” Cherise shifted her weight, and Jamela snuggled in closer, her eyes fluttering shut. “You goin’ to sleep, baby? You get even heavier when you sleepin’. She’s like a sack of spuds.”

Spuds. That reminded him. “You need food too. I could pick up some soup, pizza, pasta. Whatever you like to eat.”

“I don’t want to be no trouble.”

“It’s the least I could do. And I’m going there anyway, so I might as well pick up a few extra bits and bobs.”

“I’ve only got a few quid left till the weekend.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, it’s my treat.”

In the end, Cherise dictated a lengthy shopping list for him. It was going to take nearly all his cash, by the looks of it, but since he’d never be able to enjoy his own meals if he knew Cherise and her children were going without, he figured it would be the best use of his money. He could live off rice and carrots. He’d done it before.

When Perry called back later, four giant carrier bags in his hands, Cherise met him at the door with her finger to her lips. “She’s sleepin’ at last. Looks out for the count. You want to come in for a quickie? On the house, seein’ as how you’ve been so good to me.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t even considered that as an option. “Are you sure it’s no trouble? I mean, I wasn’t expecting anything like that.”

“Trouble? Sweetheart, you’ve never given me the slightest bit of trouble. Wish all my clients were as easy to please as you are. And as willin’ to make sure I have a good time too.”

Cherise shut the door behind him, and before he knew what was happening, Perry had been pushed up against the wall, enveloped in soft, sweet-scented flesh. “You’re such a cutie-pie,” Cherise said before ravishing his mouth.

Perry tried to get into the mood, he really did, but his libido seemed to have gone into hiding. But perhaps that was because of the sick child in the house rather than other reasons he didn’t want to think too closely about. Ones connected with the idea of kissing Mas. How would that differ? Would he feel rough with stubble? He’d certainly be leaner. Perhaps stronger. Although Cherise was fairly strong, as evidenced by the way she was crushing him against the wall and pushing a hand down the front of his trousers, groping for his flaccid prick.

Then the pressure eased. “What’s the matter, sweetie? You not in the mood for anything today?”

“Not really. I don’t know why.” Perry huffed out an attempt at a laugh. “Sorry.”

“You want me to get you some Viagra? I keep it for some of the old gents who come callin’.”

“No! I mean, no offence, but no. I think I’m just… I’m not feeling like it today. I’ve had a lot on my mind just lately.”

“You don’t want me to try and wake him up?” Cherise said, giving his prick one last squeeze.

“Please don’t.” Perry cringed with embarrassment. He’d never not been able to perform before. “Would you mind… Could I just have another cup of tea instead? I’ll help you put the shopping away.”

Cherise stared at him a moment, then shrugged. “Okay, sweetie. If that’s what you want, I’ma not gonna argue. I’m kinda knackered myself, truth be told.” She gave him a wink. “But your next time, I’ll give you something extra special.”

Even if he’d had the courage to ask what that something extra might be, Perry wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Tea. That was simple. It didn’t make any confusing emotional or physical demands on him.

It was a shame you couldn’t marry a cup of tea.

Chapter Eleven

When Mas stumbled down the stairs on Saturday morning, it was to find Lewis waiting at the breakfast table.

“Where’s your geeky stud-muffin of a boyfriend, then?” Mas asked, stifling a yawn. He opened the cupboard that held the breakfast cereal and glared at the boxes, willing something interesting to materialise among the Shredded Wheat, Bran Flakes and assorted oh-so-healthy chunks of flavourless cardboard.

“Jasper got called in to cover at work. And I’ve been up to my folks’ to fetch you something.”

“Something for me? Cool. Is it one of your mum’s nudie statues? You should tell her to make gert big cock-and-ball sculptures. I know loads of blokes who’d love to get their hands on one of them.”

“You can go tell her yourself,” Lewis said. “She told me to tell you that if you ever need a place to stay, they’ve got plenty of spare rooms.”

Mas’s hand stilled on the packet of Bran Flakes. Staying with Lewis’s naturist parents? The thought made him shudder, lovely though they were. “Are you kicking me out?”

Lewis folded his arms and sighed. “No, I’m not kicking you out. I’m just letting you know because she made me promise I would.”

“Good. I mean, no offence to your folks, but I’m not sure I could handle being exposed to that amount of naked flesh on a daily basis. I’d have a permanent semi-on. You know your dad’s a bit of a silver fox, don’t you? I could totally go for his daddy-bear vibe. You think he’s got a thing for cute twinks?” He snuck a glance over his shoulder and caught the thunderstruck look on Lewis’s face. Result! He swallowed a laugh and pulled out the Bran Flakes. They’d be just about edible with a liberal sprinkling of sugar on top.

“My father is not bisexual,” Lewis said stiffly.

“How do you know? Your mum is, isn’t she? Besides, he might not know himself, yet. Might take a hot young thing like me to turn him to the gay side.”

Lewis mumbled something Mas didn’t catch, then cleared his throat. “So, the reason I was at the folks’ was to get you that sleeping bag you asked for. And a rather comfy z-bed.”

Mas sloshed milk over his bowl of brown healthy crap. “So you are kicking me out, then.”

“I’m giving you what you said you wanted. It’s just an option, and you don’t have to take it. I’m honestly not kicking you out. And please don’t make out to Jasper that that’s what I’ve been doing.” Lewis looked so strung out—for him, anyway, seeing as how he had an actual, honest-to-goodness frown line—that Mas took pity.

“Look, I know I can be a bit of a gossip, but I’m not into shit-stirring. Not with friends, anyway. Not much. I mean, I’ll tease and try to get a rise, but nothing nasty. I’m not going to try and come between you and Jasper. Not unless you invite me to, in which case I’ll happily come wherever and whenever you want me to.”

Lewis shook his head, but at least now he was smiling. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

“I know, but a boy’s got to dream. Nothing like an unobtainable threesome for a good wank fantasy. And what I heard through the wall last night has just gone and given me some added oomph to the soundtrack. You’re noisier than I expected. Figured you’d be all uptight and silent, but you really let go in bed, don’t you?”

“Shut up. Now, do you want me to drop this lot off anywhere?”

Just how much would Perry freak if Mas waltzed into his shop all kitted out with camping gear? Most of the time it was best to bamboozle people with a done deal and not give them space to think their way of it. But this was Perry, and he was already so easy to manipulate, Mas would feel like a total bastard taking advantage of him like that.

“Can you keep it in the van for the time being, and I’ll text you when I’m ready for it?”

Lewis looked relieved. “That’s fine. You really don’t need to move out, you know. Eventually, yes, but there’s no big hurry.”

“Oh, there is. Believe me.”

Lewis knit his eyebrows.

“If I have to listen to any more of that bumping and grinding through the bedroom wall, I swear I won’t be able to stop myself rushing in and throwing myself in the middle of the action. And much as I’d love being spitroast by the two of you, I don’t want to totally bollox up our friendship. Some things are more important than sex.” Mas clapped his hands to his cheeks. “Oh my God, I don’t believe I just said that.”

Lewis took a sip of his coffee, and when he looked up again, there was some genuine amusement in his eyes. “Okay, then maybe you had better move on soon. Just…don’t do anything rash, please? I don’t like the idea of you throwing yourself at someone you barely know. What if he turns out to be an abusive psychopath?”

“Perry? Well, I suppose there was that one time he threatened me with a fencing foil, but I disarmed him within seconds.” Now Lewis was really frowning, so Mas took pity on him. “Why don’t you find a reason to swing by the shop sometime this weekend and check him out? You could give me your professional opinion on him.”

Lewis visibly brightened. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. You’re one of the best judges of character I know.” And with any luck, Mas could enlist Lewis’s help in clearing some of the clutter out of the shop. If there was one thing Lewis loved, it was cleaning up a gnarly old mess.

The flattery obviously worked. “Okay. I think I’ll do that. You’ll be there all day today and tomorrow?”

“Yep. And maybe tonight too.” Mas conveniently neglected to mention he hadn’t officially been given the job yet. It would work out. Perry would soon be wondering how he’d ever coped without Mas in his life.

Mas saved a bus fare by cadging a lift off Lewis but made him drop him off around the corner and promise to wait until Mas had given the all clear before calling into the shop. And then he set off for his first day of his new career.

The bells tinkled as Mas pushed the heavy door open, but this time there was no need to wait around for Perry to find his way down the stairs, as there he was. Talking to an honest-to-goodness genuine customer. And the tall man with the tattoos on his neck wasn’t the only one in there. A girl with long pink dreadlocks was slowly making her way through a rack of dresses. The place was positively heaving compared to what Mas had seen so far. He took a deep lungful of mothball-scented air and called up his best menswear sales persona. Hopefully it would work on customers of both genders.