Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (23 page)

“Broken? Here, let me take a look at that.”

At Cherise’s insistence, Mas handed the jacket over. She tutted over the pocket a moment. “Oh, such fine stitching! This is lovely.”

“And now it’s ruined.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s just a little tear. Nothing I couldn’t put right with a needle and thread. You got any here? It’s only a few minutes’ work. Mind you, there’s a bit of darning needs doing on the elbow too. Getting a thin spot there.”

“We don’t have any sewing kit. Wait a minute, you can mend clothes? Like, properly? Not just sewing buttons back on and shit like that?”

“I can darn and repair most things. My mama brought me up to make and mend. We was always poor, but she didn’t like to wear cheap clothes. Disposables, she called them. Used to walk past Top Shop with her nose in the air.”

“How much do you charge?”

Cherise lowered her brows. “I won’t charge you for this, hon. I can take it home, bring it back tomorrow. Won’t take me more than a few minutes, and I can do it while the kids watch CBeebies.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t mean just for that. We’ve got a whole room full of clothes upstairs that need bits of mending doing. It’s all quality stuff, it’s just old. But you can’t get much for damaged goods, and I don’t want the place to have a junk-shop kind of vibe, anyway. We’re going for vintage boutique instead. You know, to attract a better class of customer. Ones with money in their pockets.”

“I know, so the likes of me wouldn’t be welcome anymore, right?”

“If you can mend things for a reasonable price, you’ll always be welcome.”

Cherise stared at the jacket, stroking the fabric. “I don’t know. Tweedy suits are all well and good, but I do like sewing pretty things too.”

“There’s a ballgown needing sequins sewing back on. And all kinds of dresses with little bits and bobs needing fixing. A knackered zip here, a frayed hem there. Seriously, if you like girly clothes, you’d be spoilt for choice. Although I would want the suits mended too.”

Cherise looked at him for a long moment. “Okay, how about I take this home and bring it back tomorrow so you can see what my work’s like, and I can think up how much I’d want to charge for my time.”

Mas stuck his hand out. “It’s a deal, my lover.”

Cherise grasped his hand tightly and tickled his palm. “Pleasure doing business with you, hon.”

Somebody cleared his throat behind them, making them both jump. Perry stood in the doorway, holding a tray containing three cups of tea. “Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?” he asked, his brow wrinkled up with worry.

Perry was so cute when he was confused. “You’ll find out,” Mas promised and winked at Cherise.

She winked back. “Remember sweetheart, make him jealous,” she whispered.

As Mas slurped his tea, a plan began to form.

Perry hung around in the shop for longer than usual after the lunchtime rush—rush meaning anything up to five people in the shop at a time—and eventually Mas tried to shoo him back upstairs. “It’s okay, I can handle this all by myself. I’m a big boy now.”

“I know you can.” But Perry stood there, staring at him, till Mas began to wonder if he had something on his face, but he was sure he’d wiped up thoroughly after the rather messy chicken wrap he’d had for lunch.

“So, you’re just going to stand there and attempt to freak me out by staring? Or is it a staring contest? Haven’t done one of those in years, and I always used to lose, but you never know, I might be better now.”

Perry cleared his throat. “Your eyes are the colour of the water in the floating harbour.”

Okay, that was…unexpected. “Is that supposed to be romantic or something? Coz I’ve got to tell you, I’ve heard better. You’re saying they’re a sludgy greeny-grey, aren’t you?”

Perry did that cute little blush thing on his cheekbones and muttered something too low for Mas to hear. Fuck it. No time like the present to set Cherise’s little plan in action. “You know what Grant always tells me? He says my eyes are deep enough to get lost in. He calls them emeralds and shit like that. He’s pretty good at all that sweet-talking bollocks.”

The colour drained out of Perry’s cheeks. “Who’s Grant?”

Mas shrugged, turning away and pretending to tidy the waistcoats so he could conceal his enjoyment of Perry’s jealousy. “Just my latest sugar daddy. He wants to set me up with a little flat of my own, you know.”

“A flat?”

“Yeah, he’s got his eye on these ones down in Hotwells. Pretty swanky down there.”

“Well, then what are you doing here? Why did you tell me you’re homeless?”

“Oh, I am homeless. I’m not going to actually take him up on it. The man’s already got a wife and a family and all that shit. I really don’t need to be third best. Fourth best if you count his dog, who he probably spends more time with than he does with me. I’m just saying, he can do the sweet-talking thing an awful lot better than you can. Better get practicing, hadn’t you?”

“This Grant… Will you be seeing him again?”

Mas shrugged. “Dunno. Depends on what else I’ve got going on, doesn’t it? Hey, do you think those snowshoes I found upstairs would look good on the wall up there?”

But Perry didn’t answer, and all Mas could hear were his footsteps stomping away in the other direction.

Result. Mas began whistling as he tidied the racks. That was Cherise’s part of the plan dealt with. Later Mas would do things his way and blow Perry’s mind with some hot sex. That never failed to have men promising him anything. Even when they didn’t really mean it.

Perry stayed upstairs for a few hours, agitated but not quite able to work out why. Clearly he didn’t need to feel threatened by this Grant fellow. After all, the arrangement between him and Mas was nothing more than a mutually satisfactory exploration of physical pleasure.

Somehow he didn’t quite like that explanation of the situation.

Eventually Perry headed back downstairs again, intent on finding out just what Mas’s intentions regarding this so-called “sugar daddy” were, but when he got there, Mas’s wide grin disarmed him.

Why did just a simple smile like that make Perry’s clothes feel too tight? And not just in the crotch either. It felt like his waistcoat was two sizes too small, as if his chest was swelling in some way. Perhaps he was ill. He walked over to the counter and leaned against it, suddenly short of breath.

“Hey Perrykins, how you doing?” Mas sidled over and laid a hand on Perry’s chest. “Sorry about earlier. You know you’re the only one for me, don’t you?”

“Erm, is that so?” Perry scanned the shop, but it didn’t seem like anyone was there to witness their rather queer spectacle. Mas moved even closer, and Perry was acutely aware of the length of his body pressing against his own. He swallowed. It wasn’t fair. He’d meant to challenge Mas, but instead he was getting aroused.

Mas’s hand snaked down the front of Perry’s trousers, and all thoughts of Grant fell out of Perry’s head. There was just one last thing bothering him.

“Hadn’t you better lock the door?” Perry asked, before all sensible thought gave up manning his brain and rushed to join the party in his trousers.

“Don’t worry, no one ever comes in at this time of the afternoon.”

Perry watched in alarm as Mas sank to his knees. “You can’t do that in here!” The security shutters were raised. Anyone could just look in and see them.

“Relax.” Mas teased at the buttons of Perry’s fly, opening them just far enough to reach in and slip out Perry’s erection. “Just stand where you are, and you’ll be fine. I’ll shuffle back if it makes you feel better, though.” Mas walked back on his knees until he was actually under the counter, his head cocked to one side. “Come on. You really will get seen if you stand there, flashing your dick around.”

Perry blushed and moved forward before he had a chance to rethink. Mas’s mouth met him halfway in a blissful sucking embrace. “Oh God. I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

Mas pulled off with a loud smacking sound. “Feels really naughty, doesn’t it? Gives you an adrenaline rush.”

“Is that what it is?” Perry’s heart pounded so hard he was surprised the neighbours weren’t complaining about the noise. “Feels more like fear.”

“That too, but it’s the exciting kind rather than the shit-your-pants scary kind.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“You do that.” Mas’s hands kept up a hypnotic squeezing rhythm on Perry’s testicles while he spoke. Even the words themselves were a tease, gusting out against the wet skin of Perry’s glans. “I know what’s best for you, and I say you need to live a little and take a few more risks.”

“Risks lead to poverty and misery.”

“Is that your dad talking? Coz I don’t reckon that’s what you really think. No, I don’t think that at all.” Mas finished his sentence with a lavish lick of Perry’s cock, which was almost enough to make him forget where he was and groan with pleasure.

What would Perry’s father say if he could see him now? He’d probably consider his point proven: Perry had indeed degenerated by working and associating with the dregs of society. But maybe being a degenerate wasn’t all bad, after all. Not if Mas would keep on doing
that
with the flat of his tongue.

“I don’t know what I think,” Perry eventually admitted. “Oh, that’s good.” He gripped on to the edge of the counter for extra support. It was tempting to lean back and try to get a glimpse of Mas, but he wanted to keep an eye out for anyone coming in. City Road was generally quiet at this time of the afternoon, after lunch but before the school run, but he’d already seen a couple of dog walkers and someone sprinting past in neon Lycra. “You’d better make this fast.”

“I’ll take as much time as I want to,” Mas murmured, but since he then took Perry deep, it seemed like he’d got the message.

Thank you
, Perry mouthed to the ceiling before attempting to school his expression into something more respectable. He managed it just in the nick of time.

A large figure with a shaved head came into view and peered into the nearest window, curling up his lip at whatever it was he saw there. It had to be Dare, didn’t it? “Someone’s coming,” Perry hissed. The pressure round his cock increased for a moment, then eased off. “Please, stop. It’s Dare.”

Mas chuckled, but he stopped sucking and changed to a gentle licking of the tip instead. A little less overpowering, but still bloody distracting. He didn’t have time to tell him off, though, as Dare slammed the front door open.

“What’s all this, then? I go away for a couple of weeks and everything fucking well changes? Thought some poncy cunt must have bought the place out, but you’re still here, so what’s with all the fancy crap? This down to your cute little assistant I saw here last time?”

“Assistant?”

Perry felt Mas’s hand close around his balls and heard a low growl. Right. Defend his boyfriend’s honour. “He’s my partner, not my assistant. And it’s not fancy crap. There’s not even anything new. It’s just a bit of remodelling to better show off the existing stock.”

“Well, I’ve never seen half this stuff before. No offence, mate, but it’s a bit girly, isn’t it?”

“The gentlemen’s section is in the other room,” Perry said stiffly. Stiff in more ways than one, because despite the conversation with Dare, his erection hadn’t subsided any. Very odd indeed.

“Yeah? Thought I’d made it clear already, I’m no gentleman.” Dare’s chuckle sounded downright sinful. “You ever want proof, you just call by my place after closing.”

Was Dare flirting with him again? Perry couldn’t be sure, but perhaps it wasn’t coincidence that Mas’s hand had closed tighter, and he’d begun to suck determinedly, making it near impossible to spare any brainpower for the conversation. This state of affairs couldn’t continue. Not without extreme humiliation.

Concentration. Right. Focus on Dare. “Thank you, but as I said, I have a partner.”

“Yeah? That little femme boy? He’s sexy, but you sure you don’t want a real man?” Dare cupped his groin and leered. Dear God.

“Mas is plenty man enough for me.”

Dare shrugged one shoulder. “Your loss, mate. Anyway, through there, is it? Didn’t know you had another room in this place.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Perry mumbled, then had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from moaning ecstatically, because ohmygod, it felt like Mas was trying to suck every last drop of pleasure out of him. He didn’t think he’d ever got this close so fast. Did he have a kink for public sex after all?

“You all right, mate? You’re looking a bit off. Not gonna spew, are you?”

“No.” Not out of his mouth, that was for sure. Other parts of him were in imminent danger of exploding, and his hips were twitching without his permission, desperate to rut into Mas’s greedy mouth. “Really, I’m fine. Just…tired.”

Dare gave him a searching look, but Perry obviously brazened it out well enough, because eventually Dare turned and headed through to the other room. “Through here? Hey, there’s some nice shit in here. Needs some more stuff up on the walls, though.”

Now the need to hold himself together had eased for a moment, Perry let his control waver. Oh God. Big mistake. His pelvis gave an honest-to-goodness thrust, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Please God let no one be walking past right now!
Mas redoubled his efforts, and in seconds, the rush of orgasm bowled over any last bit of resistance Perry’s lust-addled brain could throw in the way.