Alex sat on the bar stool nursing his drink, Jack Daniel’s, straight up. He tried to think back to when it all started but couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment, an exact place in time where he’d fallen in love with him. It could have been the first time he saw his lips curl up in that beautiful sexy smile of his, it could have been the first time the older man had taken him in his arms and held him close soothing his heartache after his first serious girlfriend had ripped it out, it could have been the first time he heard that slow sexy southern drawl or stared into his electric green eyes.

It could have been any of those times, but more likely it was all of them. Alex had always been his...before they met, after they met and long after they would part ways. He hadn’t fallen in love with Kevin, he had simply always been in love with the man. A man he could never have…at least not totally. Not body and soul the way Kevin had him. That was because Kevin had another - a woman - Kristin, who he’d pledged his life and love to. She had what Alex wanted desperately, to the point of self destruction.

Pushing away from the bar he scanned the smoky, neon lit dance floor, looking for someone...anyone...to get lost in, to forget him in. The whiskey wasn’t doing it all by itself anymore. In the beginning it had, damn well in fact. After Kevin had announced his engagement to the guys Alex had drown his sorrows quite gleefully in a fifth of JD, blissfully forgetting the just-punched-in-the-gut feeling that had slammed through him at the news. Up until that point he’d always held out hope that one day Kevin would come to him and tell him Kristin had been a mistake, that he was really in love with him.

That night though, that moment, that ear-to-ear smile on Kevin’s face as he’d told them the news, that had crushed and ground into the dirt any fantasy he’d been harboring of he and Kevin together, lovers. Without that dream to ground him Alex had started spiraling out of control. First the drinking, then when that didn’t completely take the pain away any more, the endless stream of men and women in and out of his hotel rooms. He’d lost count of all the people he’d fucked over the past year or so. They didn’t matter anyway, they were all him. His eyes, his face, his body that Alex fucked. All he had to do was close his eyes and pretend and Kevin was right there with him.

When the guys had come to him expressing their concerns about what he was doing, drinking and screwing around, he’d gone and gotten himself a girlfriend. Sarah. She was his cover. He told the guys that he loved her and wanted to marry her and they seemed satisfied with that, especially Kevin and Brian. After all, hadn’t the women in their lives made all the difference? Alex knew they’d think that way, that’s why he’d made the proposition to Sarah after a night of half-sober sex. He’d told her straight out that he didn’t have feelings for her, that she was a good lay but that he didn’t want any hang-ups, any emotional bullshit. He just needed someone around to get certain people off his back.

He’d expected to get slapped in the face, not really having used any tact in the proposition whatsoever. Instead, she asked him what was in it for her. After a moment of thinking he’d said, 'A house, a gold card with no limit and the prestige of dating a Backstreet Boy'. She’d said yes and they’d been together ever since...and he’d gotten a hell of a lot more careful about his drinking and fucking. After all, it wouldn’t work if he didn’t appear to change, right?

Spotting a nice little honey on the dance floor, he stood carefully, the room spinning for a moment before straightening itself back out. Heading over, he decided he definitely liked what he saw. Tonight he was in the mood for curves and she had a shit-load of curves…in all the right places. She spotted him when he was halfway to her and her face brightened. Recognition. Good, he thought. Saved him the trouble of having to seduce her. His name, his status, had just done it for him.

When he reached her, he grabbed her around the waist, not even asking if she wanted to dance and started grinding against her. He was a jerk when he was drunk and knew it, but didn’t care. She didn’t seem to either as she started grinding with him. Funny, he thought, even though he wouldn’t have been able to walk a straight line for a cop or touch his finger to his nose at that point, he could still dance. He could always dance. Right now though, he was sick of dancing on the dance floor. He wanted to do a different kind of dance. The kind you do on a bed, or a table, or hell, even the floor. He just needed to get off so he could fall asleep without thinking and dreaming of him. He wondered how long he’d have to placate her with false attention before she’d be wet and willing. He didn’t have to wonder long.

Reaching up and grabbing his head, she pulled his ear close to her mouth and asked, "Your place or mine?"

"Yours." He said immediately, knowing there he wouldn’t have to worry about the prying eyes of his bandmates. He and the guys were in New York to do some PR bullshit before the second leg of the B&B tour in the US kicked in and had rented out the top floor of their usual hotel.

She grabbed his hand and headed for the door. He followed willingly, watching her ass move from side to side in a hypnotic rhythm. She had a nice ass. He wondered if she’d let him fuck her in it. He hoped so.

Back at her apartment, they stumbled in the door, tangled in each other’s arms, kissing and sucking and licking even before Alex’s guard, Marcus, discretely closed the door behind them, knowing he was expected to wait outside.

"Oh baby, I can’t wait to get inside you." Alex moaned as he kissed the side of her neck.

"Wanna try something first?" She asked, pulling away slightly.

"What?" He asked, curiosity outweighing horniness...at least momentarily.

She bounced away and out of sight. Alex thought to call after her and realized he hadn’t gotten her name. Cursing under his breath, he walked over to the door and peaked out. "Did you catch her name?"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Vicky."

"Thanks."

Closing the door, he headed back to where she’d left him. "Vicky, what are you doin’ girl? I’m gettin’ lonely out here."

Stepping out of some doorway back into view, she smiled teasingly. "You remember my name, I’m touched."

"Yeah, well…what the hell’s that?" He asked pointing to a small black pouch in her hand.

"Just a little white powder. Want some? There’s nothing like fucking while you're high."

Alex shrugged. Drugs weren’t really his thing, but now days he’d try anything once. "Sure."

He watched her spread and cut it, then snort it. When she passed it to him, he mimicked her actions, then sat back as the rush took him over almost immediately. He heard her giggle and suddenly she was on top of him, straddling his narrow hips and pulling her shirt over her head. The rush from the coke crept through his body, taking him over, killing the pain in his heart. 'Man, this is the shit,' he thought. He was going to have to get himself a stash of this for the really rough times.

He woke a while later, barely remembering fucking her...or rather letting her fuck him. She was aggressive and they'd screwed five or six times before passing out. He didn’t know if that was how she was normally or if it was the coke and he didn’t care. Pushing up off the couch, he stuffed himself back in his pants. He hadn't taken off a stitch of clothing. She however was naked and sprawled out on the couch, face down. He stared at her ass, remembering that he’d wanted to fuck it, then remembering that at one point he had. Shaking her roughly, he waited for her to open her eyes and focus on him.

"What?"

"You have any more of that stuff, baby?" He asked, having already forgotten her name again.

"Yeah, in the top drawer of my dresser. Help yourself."

"Thanks, babe."

Wandering back through her apartment, he found her room easily enough and crossed to her dresser. Opening it, he grabbed her whole stash. Feeling a rare attack of conscience, mainly because she had, after all, turned him on to the shit, he dropped a couple hundred dollars in it’s place. He had no idea how much the stuff went for but he figured a couple hundred was safe. Heading back to the front of the house, he grabbed the little black pouch full of the paraphernalia and dropped the stash inside. He didn’t bother to say goodbye when he left.


Chapter One
BROKEN LOVE Contents