"Jenny! Jennnnnyyyyy!!!"

I woke up bathed in sweat, my shorts clinging to me wetly. I'd had the dream again. The one where Jenny chose him. David. The name I never said out loud anymore. It was me he wanted. Not her. But just the thought of it scared the shit out of him.

I know. He wasn't much to look at. His body was fleshy in all the wrong places. He was a graceless, inarticulate beast lumbering after her beauty. Just like fucking Frankenstein.

Fuck that. I could have had him...if I'd only tried a little harder, pushed a little more. But David was afraid. He thought he was proving his manhood by taking her away from me. But poor Jenny didn't know what he really was.

A monster. In the truest sense of the word.

He shot me. More than once. He left me for dead, stole Jenny, poisoned her mind with lies about what happened that day. And then...the final blow. He told the police that everything was my fault.

Yeah, right. Blame it on the kid in a coma.

I bet he never thought I had a chance of coming back from that. I bet he never thought I had a hope in hell of remembering that day. But he was wrong.

Still, revenge was the last thing on my mind, the dream notwithstanding.

I dragged my ass out of bed and wondered not for the first time what the hell I was doing in England. Maybe I was there because I'd somehow managed to go through nearly every decent college in the States.

Maybe I was looking for something. Or someone. I wasn't lonely. I wasn't going to waste my time searching for either one of them. But there had to be someone out there who wouldn't spit in the face of my love.

Okay, I have a tendency to get a little obsessive when I fall in love. But that's not always a bad thing. Is it?

My folks sent me away when they heard I'd recovered. They paid for a year's tuition here in London. On the condition that I stay here for the full year. No visits. No phone calls. It shouldn't have surprised me that my family didn't want to have anything to do with me.

But it did.

I'm almost 21 now. I'm not a kid anymore. And those are not tears in my eyes.

I gave up crying a long time ago.

*****

"Jeans? Jeans??? You came to my fucking wedding wearing a pair of jeans? Jaysus fucking Christ, Mark, you own a fucking suit, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," I snapped back. I had a suit. Two suits. Left over from my days as an estate agent. I had to sell them after I left London. It wasn't much, but it kept me off the streets for a couple more weeks. But I wasn't going to tell him that.

I was a fucking success story. I wasn't in prison. I wasn't on drugs. I was still a fucking lunatic, but that was beside the point.

I'd made it.

So how come I was so fucking unhappy? Well, for one thing, I wasn't in Scotland anymore. I was back in England for Spud's damned wedding. He wanted me to stay. There wasn't anything keeping me in Scotland, but there wasn't much for me in England either.

"Why aren't you wearing one, then?" Spud cried.

"Um...I was trying to set a trend. You don't have to dress like your maiden auntie at these things, y'know."

"But what kind of a fucking statement are you trying to make, wearing jeans at my fucking wedding?"

"You're stressed. I can see that. Perhaps I should just go."

"You're my best man! You can't go!"

"I'm nobody's best man, Spud," I whispered. A bit sadly, I thought.

Spud stared at me like I'd lost my mind and suddenly started talking in a foreign language. "Mark....you've changed. You're...bloody hell...you're the only one I want to stand up for me. You've got to do this. Please."

I could feel my lips move and I knew I was grinning ferociously like the maniac I used to be. "Love me, love my fucking jeans, Spud."

He shook his head wearily. I won. I always won. I was a crazy fucker in my younger days, but now, at the grand old age of 27, I'd finally become someone other people could look up to.

I didn't have a fucking job. But I'd find one. People like me landed on their feet. See if I don't.

*****

I did it cause I needed the money. This guy put me on to the gig. Blow the guy in the car. Five minutes, tops. Make him come. You're home free. 300 bucks richer.

Oh. Make that 300 pounds richer. Whatever that came out to in American money.

It was almost dark. I shuffled along the path into the park and found the parked car. No problem.

Big problem. Someone was beating my time. Literally. Some crazy fucker was going down on my guy. Jesus, it looked like he was fucking enjoying it, too.

Suddenly he looked up from what he was doing and grinned at me through the half-open window of the car. Like what you see? That's what that feral smile was saying.

Well, he was making my money. That pissed me off. Not that I was jonesing for the old geezer in the front seat of the Lexus.

But there was something about that grin that shook me. That was not the look of a poster boy for mental health.

I should know.

I turned and started to walk back the way I came. A moment later, Wolf Boy fell into step beside me. "What are you doing out here? Don't you know how dangerous these parts get after dark?"

I gave him the coldest look I could muster, but those eyes, they were like lightning scorching right through me. "That was my score."

"Ah...then I must owe you something, eh?"

I kept walking. We weren't that far from the street. All at once he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wad of bills. "How about if I give you half?"

I stopped and stared at him. "Half? You turned my trick and I have to settle for half?"

"Well..." he said coyly, a mischievous smile tugging at those lips. "You could have all of it...if you let me have you."

"You're crazy," I said, but it came out in a husky whisper that sounded more like an invitation than an accusation.

"Wouldn't you like to find out just how crazy?"

*****

I had my hands down the front of his jeans a few seconds later. He squirmed under the feel of my hands and I smiled. I liked that. He was almost as big as me.

"Let me fuck you and I'll give you...the whole thing," I coaxed, biting his earlobe.

He twisted away and said, "No."

"No?" I had to admit, I was surprised. His dick liked me just fine. It was sitting up just as pretty as you please, begging to be taken out and, oh, man, kissed.

"I don't fuck."

I laughed at that one. His dick twitched a couple of times as if to say, Liar. "You don't fuck guys? Or anyone?"

"Look, I'm not having this conversation with you out in the middle of fucking nowhere. I signed on for the blowjob cause I need the money."

"I'm offering you the money."

"For a price."

"Everybody's got one, baby."

"I'm not your fucking baby. So lay off the sweet talk. You want a blowjob, I'm your man. Otherwise, get the fuck away from me."

"You always this fucking tense?"

He blew out the air in his lungs with an exasperated noise. "Listen, I haven't eaten all day. I'm not in the mood for-"

I could see that. He was most definitely not in the mood for my bullshit. But that didn't stop me from kissing him.

He looked like he was fucking poleaxed. "Shit, what the hell did you do that for?" he whispered, rubbing his fingers over his lips. I don't think he realized what he was doing. But that was all right with me.

I had a feeling I could get this one into bed if I could just keep my fucking mouth shut.

He didn't want to be nailed to someone's mattress. He wanted to be treated like someone who mattered. I could do that. I was good at that.

I stifled the urge to say something and kissed him again, this time nudging his lips apart with my tongue. He gasped and the sound went straight to my groin. He was hard, too, whether he knew it or not. His cock was still in his jeans, but I could feel it pressing against my thigh.

I unzipped his pants as slowly as I could, afraid that the sound of the zipper would startle him and scare him away. I closed my hand over the hot, velvety tip of his cock and sighed into his mouth. Jesus, he was leaking already. If he pulled away from me now...

I slid my finger back and forth in the slit of his dick, and he actually trembled. He was so close to coming, I could smell the musk rising off his body. Reluctant to let go of him, I palmed his nipples through his shirt and sank to my knees in front of him. He threw his head back and fisted my hair. For once, I was glad that I'd grown it out a bit. It was still too short for him to anchor himself there, but I appreciated the attempt.

I took him in my mouth and tasted him. He was so fucking sweet. He repaid the favor by thrusting into my mouth. He might not want to be fucked, but he wasn't shy about fucking my mouth. I knew he wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care. I wanted him to come. In my mouth. On my face. I growled low in my throat, and I think the vibration finally got to him.

He came in a rush, his knees giving way, but I held onto him and refused to let him fall. I rubbed my wet cheek against his softening cock, and he murmured, "Wow."

"You still think I didn't earn my money?"

"Oh, no," he said, his eyelashes fluttering down to cover what seemed to be blue eyes.

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him again. I had no idea why I did that. I never kissed anyone I had sex with. It was so fucking personal. It led to all kinds of complications. I tried to hand him the wad of bills, but he pushed it back at me with a groan. "No. You keep it."

I knew my own eyes must be glinting devilishly, but even I was stunned by what came out of my mouth. "You got a place to stay?"

He nodded. "I'm at the University."

"You like it there?"

"What are you driving at?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"You want to come home with me?"

I held my breath. If he laughed, I didn't think I could get up. I might just lie down on the grass and stay there.

"I-"

"It's okay. I dunno why I said that. Stupid, really. We don't even fucking know each other. Why would you want to get hooked up with a wanker like me?"

He smiled, and I swear the entire nighttime sky was lit up by the light of it. "Can we do that again?"

"Anytime you like," I whispered.

His fingers crept into my hair and I felt chills break out all over my body. "How about now?"