Page 14 of Edge

The anticipation was acurse and a strange, buzzing delight in his bones.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Damian

Damian tapped hisaggressor twice on the back, hard. The vise grip on his throatimmediately ceased and his opponent swung their legs away fromDamian’s neck so he could breathe. He took a heaving gulp of airand grinned at the woman who stood above him, her arm outstretchedto help him up.

“Come on,mister, on your feet. I’ll treat you to one of those awful peanutbutter and banana milkshakes you love so much.” Wendy Marriott, histutor, helped Damian to his feet. She was five foot six, slimlybuilt, and was one of the most accomplished martial arts artistsDamian had ever met at the dojo. “I might even buy you a packet ofjelly babies.” She cringed. “How you can eat those sweet littlethings, I’ll never understand.”

Damian winced as he stoodand stretched to get the kinks out of his limbs. “That was onesneaky move you played,” he stated with an admiring glance. “Iwasn’t expecting it. And jelly babies are an acquiredtaste.”

Wendy shrugged as theywalked past all the other jujitsu athletes in various modes ofcombat around the room. “To each his own, scrapper.”

Over in the corner,Damian grinned as he saw the unpopular and snobby Gavin Haybrookbeing heartily trounced by some young guy called Tiny, who’drecently joined. The youngster had moves, he thought admiringly andsniggered. “Check that out.” He motioned to a sweating, red-facedGavin, currently in a headlock. “Gav’s such a wanker. Always sayinghe’s the best here. Look at Tiny giving it to him.”

Tiny, so named because hewas six foot three, with the breadth of a black bear, looked as ifhaving a man under his arm was all in a day’s work. He spottedDamian across the room and waved, a huge smile on his face. Damianwaved back as they reached the refreshment area. Wendy orderedtheir drinks and soon the pair were sitting down at a smalltable.

“You’re comingon with your grappling techniques,” Wendy said as she drank herorange juice. “We’ll get you your purple belt within the next sixmonths, I think.”

Warmth flooded Damian’schest. He’d been a blue belt for a while now, aiming for his nextbelt within the year. Hearing Wendy thought it might be as soon assix months was heartening. He loved his time at the Brazilianjujitsu dojo called Synergy X, where he’d been practising for overfive years, and it had been rewarding, but a hard slog.

“Wow, that’dbe great,” he enthused, sucking happily on the straw in hismilkshake. “I know I’ve worked like a dog, but I didn’t think itwould be so soon.”

On the wall, amusic video channel was playing and he glanced at it idly.Wow, he’s pretty, was hisfirst thought on seeing the tattooed, dark-haired sex bomb writhingaround on the stage. I bet all the mothershave to lock their daughters up when he visits. The music isn’t toobad either for rock. He’s got a great voice. Throaty asfuck.

As the guy turned aroundand twerked, giving Damian a sight of one helluva taut ass encasedin tight leather pants, he grew a little more interested. And whenthe man came closer to the camera and it zoomed in on his faceunder his black fedora, Damian almost swallowed his straw and got amouthful of milkshake, complete with a remnant of chunky banana,which went down the wrong way. He began coughing as if somethingwas clawing its way out of his throat.

I know thatface, and those lips. It’s that bloody pain in the arse Jory. OhChrist, he had his hands on my arse.

“Oh jeez,Damian, did you swallow something?” Wendy was up and behind him,patting his back so hard he thought his spine would meet his chestcavity. “Here, let me help you.” Her efforts weren’t helping, andfinally Damian managed to draw breath and wheeze out, “Stop, it’sokay. Let me get…” He coughed up a lung again, and then waved ahand to try to stop his rescuer from her body pounding. He drew atortured breath. “Some air and I’ll be fine.”

His chest hurt, histhroat burned, and his eyes were watering so much he could hardlysee. He fumbled around for his gym towel, which was in the bag athis feet, and dragged it out. Mercifully, Wendy had stoppedthumping him and she was standing beside him with a worriedexpression.

“I’m good,” hemanaged to get out. “Nothing to see here.” He wiped his streamingeyes and took a few deep breaths.

“You’recompletely red in the face,” Wendy murmured. “Please don’t have aheart attack on me. Do you need a glass of water?”

Damian shook his head andstood. “Naw, I’m good. Honestly.” His voice was rough. “I think I’dbetter be off home now before anything else happens.” He picked uphis bag and grinned at Wendy. “Thanks for the grievous bodily harmthingy. I’m sure it helped.” He laughed and dodged Wendy’s fierceswipe at his arm. “Hey, watch it.”

“Ungratefulbugger. Go on, then. I’ll see you Wednesday night for class.” Wendysat down and picked up her orange juice. “I’ll finish this then gofor a shower, I think. Hot date tonight.” She winked. “I’d ratherget all sweaty with her later than be like that when wemeet.”

Damian chuckled. “Have agreat night. See you soon.” He walked towards the exit and out intothe street. It was eight pm, but the sun was still shining. ThankGod for balmy summer evenings.

Now that he wasn’tcoughing up his lungs and had fresh air in his face, he had time toponder the incredible being who was his nemesis. Jory.

“I can’tbelieve he’s the lead singer for Stone Edge,” he muttered tohimself as he walked home. “I mean, even I’ve heard of them. And they’re someof the only rock music I enjoy too. God, I must have sounded like aright plonker when I first met him.” He sidestepped an old dear whoglared at him as she pushed by with a tiny Yorkie on aleash.

It was only atwenty-minute walk home to his flat, and having avoided his uncle,he was soon inside drinking a large glass of cold, sparkling water.He plonked himself into his armchair, got comfy, and switched onthe telly.

Time to watch YouTubevideos of Stone Edge and its hot lead singer.

***

A half hour later,Damian’s cock was rock hard inside his loose sweatpants as hesoaked up the images of the writhing, magnetic sex bomb known asEdge. The stage name suited Jory. Or what Damian knew of him,anyway. Edge was defiant, and yes, edgy, and sinfully wicked in theway he thrust his hips out to his adoring audience of one. When themuscles in the singer’s arms swelled and tensed when he played hisguitar, Damian thought swooning might have been the right word touse.

Edge was pure animal sexon long, muscled legs, clad in black biker boots. His voice wasgruff and husky and he belted out the lyrics with a passion Damianwondered would be reproduced in bed.

He regretted not havingthe man back to his apartment when he’d offered. The things Damianwould do to him. He took a sip of bourbon and closed his eyes,picturing those muscled legs wrapped around his waist as Damiangripped Edge’s chestnut hair and forced himself deeper inside theman’s arse.