Chapter 1: Summer Heat

Hot didn't even begin to cover it. Up in his room on the fourth and top floor of a posh apartment block Kris cursed himself silently. What on earth had possessed him to stay here, at home, in this sweltering heat while his parents spent the weeks at their lakeshore house. It would be cool there, with the breeze blowing in off the water. The sea here in the city seemed stagnant and dead. Hotter than the windless air. Even with the air con on full it was still roasting in the apartment, but not as hot as it was outside in the heat of the sun.

The eighteen year old wasn't even dressed yet. A sleepless night spent tossing and turning lead to a late rise. It was now two o'clock and Kris was still only wearing a pair of boxers. The condo was dark, all the wooden Venetian blinds drawn down, and thin beams of orange sunlight fell through and spread over Kris's slim tanned body like a tiger's stripes. Sea-Ice blue eyes caught sight of himself in the mirror and he ceased his pacing.

Dark tan skin where the light hit it, the rest of him a paler shadow in the semi darkness, narrow shoulders, long body, thin hips. The light stripes made his legs seem longer, and cast a collar across his throat. Short bronze-red hair stuck up in lazy, unruly spikes. Tiger striped boxers completed the image. Kris rubbed his jaw, firm, but slightly pointed, with the back of his hand.

He moved with a slow curious gait like a cat, towards the slatted blind. He sniffed softly and at a touch the blind shot up with an overly loud clatter in the almost silent room. Instantly hot sunlight flooded a square patch of floor and Kris leapt back with an oath. Even breathing was hard in the day's unbearable heat, and Kris, unusually listless, had never been so bored. Carefully he stepped into the light a little way, keeping his head and chest in the shade. Even in that short space of time the stone tiled floor had already begun to warm.

Outside the city streets were sweltering. Too hot to drive anywhere and the roads were dead, the tarmac sweating in the heat. Cars like silent metal ovens parked at the side of the sticky blacktop. For the most part the pavements were deserted too. It was too hot. Shop keepers stayed indoors, huddled under their air con units, or else had given up and gone home. Everyone was inside or out on the beach. No doubt ice cream sales were booming today. Where there were people, they were covered in wide brimmed hats and sunglasses, darting from shade to shade and then indoors or out of sight.

Except for one.

A man, maybe a little older than Kris, sat on the edge of the pavement with his feet in the road, arms resting on his knees. He was powerfully built, though not overly muscled, and dressed only in knee length denim cut offs. But he had nice shoulders and a strong neck, hands like paws almost. Golden locks fell into his eyes, the rest of his unusually long hair spilled loose over his back and shoulders. Tanned gold skin glimmered with sweat. He wasn't doing anything, just breathing. Kris stepped forward, slim fingers resting on the windowsill. His slight movement must have caught the strangers eye for he looked up. Strong squareish jaw, open and panting in the heat, white teeth and bright reckless, hazel eyes. Kris saw those eyes and felt his heart skip. He knew he could be seen from the street, highlighted against the blackness. He caught himself just as he had begun to raise his hand.

The lion-like stranger watched him still as he wrestled with himself. He had nothing do and what had he to lose? Even less if he was honest. He looked back at the stranger and felt a stirring under his belly as his eyes roamed across the body he could see sitting out there. Restless and almost lost looking. Kris vanished from the window, pulling the shutter down as he stepped back. A second later he heard the buzzer go.

"Killing time?" Kris asked in his liquid honey voice, one that had made him both a charmer and an excellent public speaker. Two talents that had earned him a double life at such a young age. Angel by day, Angel for Rent by night.

"Company?" asked the voice at the other end, half a growl. All command and power in that voice. Kris buzzed him in saying;

"Room at the top, end of the line."

He went quickly to the fridge and poured out two large measures of Southern Comfort with ice, left one there on the counter and took his, and the rest of the bottle, up the stairs to his room. Tiled like the rest of the house and thankfully tidy. Pale wood desk, chair, chest of drawers, walk in wardrobe, double bed. The slats of the blind let in those same white-orange stripes of light. Kris took a sip of his drink and put the bottle on the desk. He heard footfalls below and the soft chink of glass against stone. A shadow moved at the foot of the short flight of stairs and hesitated in passing.

Lion eyes caught a tiger-striped Kris half turning, glass in hand, looking very slim and very enticing. The man stood the doorway and Kris was surprised to find himself looking up at the stranger who stood, feet apart and relaxed against the door frame, also holding a glass and glowing in the gloom. Kris put down his glass and padded forward, moving with a fluid grace normally commanded by princes and kings. And wild cats.

One slender finger traced bold path down the stranger's chest, collecting little beads of sweat. The stranger shivered and Kris painted the liquid on his tongue.

"What's your name?"

"Does it matter?" asked Kris as his hands descended to the strangers cut off's, tugging unhurriedly at the stiff zip, "I'm hot and bothered and I thought it night be more fun with two."

"Hot certainly," was the murmured reply from chiselled lips, "but I intend to do something about the 'bothered' little Tiger." All of a sudden that mouth closed over Kris own and his legs struggled to support him as his mouth was effectively plundered. Kris was left gasping for air as the other pulled back. He growled low as he came forward for the rejoinder, taking the upper hand he was so rarely allowed. He watched the lions eyes flicker closed with a moan.

Kris fell back grinning and went to where he had left his glass and took a deep gulp. The stranger reaffirmed his grip on his drink that had threatened to fall from his fingers. He went over to where Kris stood and wrapped an arm around him. The boy put his glass down again and in a second he had the strangers cut offs round his ankles and had sunk to his knees. The person he was at night took over as he closed his mouth over the other's rock hard arousal. As a rule, clients only wanted to be brought off, in any one of a myriad of ways, and they didn't care if he came or not. The only exceptions were those who got off on watching or liked to be fucked by their paid whore. He'd only taken a handful of times and it had never been good. Being paid had taken all the fun out of what was once nothing but a laugh. Kris heard the lion-stranger's self-muffled exclamation of surprise and felt him turn harder, if that was possible, in his mouth. Strong fingers slid into his hair and gripped him as his head bobbed and his mouth worked on the hard need held between his lips.

Suddenly he was pushed back and raised up by that great paw around his throat, and as he was lifted it flashed through Kris's mind for the first time that this might not have been the best idea in the world. What if the stranger turned on him? But he was set down firmly on his feet. Kris opened his mouth to ask what on earth was going on but the lion placed a finger over his lips.

"Hush... You know what you're doing little one, don't you?" Kris didn't try to answer the question, though he resented being called 'little', "No one loves you, do they Tiger?"

Kris nodded mutely, stunned at how this worst of all truths was merely spoken aloud in that voice that was like fire and earth, dangerous and powerful. The hand wandered down his chest, big enough to almost completely cover his abdomen. Kris took in a sharp breath as one of his nipples was caught between those nice white teeth. Fingers caught the waistband of his tiger striped boxers and began to drag them down.

"What-?"

"Hush Tiger," were the warm damp words murmured against his skin, "Hush and hold still." All at once that too hot to be real mouth was clamped over his hardened sex bringing out a moan he couldn't bite back. How many times had he wished for a return of what he gave others? Kris couldn't count them, but clients had no interest in pleasuring their rent boy, their hired help. And while he'd given more blow jobs than he could remember, he'd never once been on the receiving end before. Strong arms wound around his waist to stop him falling over as his knees were reduced to rubber. His slender hands slipped down into the golden locks, not guiding, there was no need, just gripping tight enough to make the lion growl around him. Teeth lips and tongue worked absolute torture on his desire. Those growls the lion made as he worked on Kris were the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard, and though he tried he couldn't muffle his own higher cries of desperate, unexpected pleasure. For being taken he had a whole repertoire of phrases and faux moans to fall back on, but this was so new and so intense that there was no need to even think of faking anything. The powerful stranger worked with his eyes closed, big hands caressing smooth unmarked and hairless skin, his lips doing the same. The boy in his arms shuddered, all his muscles tightening in brief warning of the outward rush of warmth. The lion drank it all, almost greedy and very predatory in his motions. Kris, who had almost been caught out by himself, let out a long moan as he came, helpless in the arms of the other man.