By the end of the day, his head was pounding. His back ached and his neck was so stiff he suspected a steel rod connected his skull to his spine. All he wanted to do was go home, soak in a hot bath for at least three hours, then crash. After a few days he’d get used to the work and the physical demands it placed on his body. Muscle memory didn’t last a whole year and sitting in lecture theaters or the university library didn’t prepare him for standing all day, bending over the cars on the ride. Home, however, was still a bike ride away.
Stevie always stayed with Zach over the holidays because his parents lived abroad, so he would catch a ride with Zach and his dad. Adam was a local like Zach, and lived within walking distance of the park, at his parents’ place. He had a fantastic bedsit over their garage. Garth’s student accommodation allowed him to rent year-round. He had a self-contained flat with its own bathroom and tiny kitchenette, which suited him down to the ground. His unit was one of several in a block, in an area of extensive student housing. Over the summer it was very quiet. Neither of his immediate neighbors had stayed for the vacation, so he could play his favorite Goth rock music as loud as he liked without upsetting anyone. He lived within a short stroll of the university library, which meant he could also get ahead with his coursework for the coming year. Physics fascinated him and he was looking forward to getting started on his dissertation.
He rolled his shoulders, groaning at the creaks. Cycling across town was not going to be fun. He did his final checks, shutting everything down. The last music went silent and colored neon turned to darkness. The quiet was a relief. Garth reached into his cubby to pull out his jacket and wallet then jumped at a touch to his shoulder. He yelped, banged his head on a shelf then fell back on his arse in an ungainly sprawl.
“What the…” He rubbed at his sore skull.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Garth raised his eyes to view his tormentor. His neck protested as he tipped his head back, then even farther back. He eyed the extended hand with suspicion but decided that, as he’d already made a complete idiot of himself, accepting assistance couldn’t add to his humiliation.
“Can I help you?” Garth was pulled to his feet so fast he lost his balance and stumbled. The stranger steadied him with a hand on the small of his back. Warmth soaked through Garth’s thin shirt.
“You okay? I don’t want you bruising that cute backside any more than it already is.”
Garth gulped before gathering his inner snark. “Do you think it’s appropriate to be commenting on my arse? We just met. Who are you?”
Even in the dim light, Garth could detect the glint of amusement in steel blue eyes.
“Clem Chadwick, Sentinel Computer Services. Nice to meet you, Garth.”
“How do you know my name?” Garth scowled, even though his traitorous dick was twitching with excitement.
“You mean, apart from the name badge pinned to your chest?” Clem chuckled. “Your boss told me. I have to install a patch on the ghost train computer and had to wait ’til closing to do it. He said you wouldn’t mind hanging around for a few minutes.”
“I suppose not—so long as it is just a few minutes. It’s been a long day.” Garth went to sit in one of the cars, feeling grumpy. “Help yourself. I haven’t locked the cabin door yet, but you’ll have to power up again.” He didn’t try to hide his irritation.
Clem quirked an eyebrow. “Quite the brat, aren’t you?”
“Again with the personal comments! I’m tired and cranky. Sue me.”
“Spank you, more like.” Clem turned away with a grin.
Garth gaped. He was torn between running away and shouting Yes, please!
“Jesus. Fuck. I must be more tired than I thought,” he muttered, watching Clem from beneath his lashes. The man was a vision in those black jeans and there was no harm in fantasizing. He drifted into a doze, imagining what it might be like to be under Clem’s control, bound in his ropes, arse exposed for his hand or cane. In his dreams, there was no way that Clem would turn out to be either straight or vanilla. He shuddered and a small moan escaped his lips.
“I don’t know what you’re dreaming about, boy, but it looks good on you.”
Clem was leaning over him. Garth blinked. He could smell mint on Clem’s breath and the scent of his shampoo, he was that close. Garth scrambled from the car as fast as he could in an attempt to regain some dignity, but the erection crammed into his tight jeans didn’t help. Nor did the knowing expression on Clem’s handsome face.
“I’ve got the van,” Clem said. “I’ll give you a ride home.” It sounded more like an order than a suggestion.
“My mother always taught me never to go with strangers. I’ve got my bike.”
“Your bike will fit in the back of the van and I’m not a stranger. We’ve known each other for a whole hour. Ring Zach, or his dad. I’m an old friend of the family. They’ll vouch for me.”
Garth gave him a hard look. The thought of not having to pedal across town in the dark was tempting. He pulled out his phone and stabbed at the Speed Dial button that connected him to Zach.
“Hey, Zach. You know a computer guy called Clem?”
“Sure.” From the sound of Zach’s voice, he was trying not to laugh. “Gorgeous, isn’t he? He was asking just the other day if you’d be back this summer. Not my type, but definitely yours. Dommy as hell. Has he got you in cuffs yet?”
“What the hell, Zach? He’s just offering me a ride home and I want to make sure he isn’t some psycho ax murderer.” He caught sight of Clem, who had a huge grin on his face.
“Ride home… Yeah, sure. If that’s what we’re calling it nowadays.” Zach made a sound somewhere between a snort and a grunt.
“Zach…”
“He’s fine. I’ve known him for years. When I was a kid, he was a teenager and we knocked around together sometimes at family barbecues and stuff. He’s a genuine Dom though, so watch that smart mouth of yours or he’ll have a gag in it before you can say Goo Goo Dolls.”
“Okay. If I don’t show up for work tomorrow, the headlines in the local rag will be all your fault.” He ended the call. “A lift would be good. Thanks.” Clem’s smirk was disconcerting to say the least. Garth covered his confusion by locking everything up. He rolled up his jacket then shoved it into his backpack with his wallet and phone. “Good to go.”
Clem led the way to the staff exit at the southern edge of the park, using his security card to open the gate. His van was parked a hundred yards or so down the street. Garth liberated his bike from a long rack next to the curb before wheeling it to the rear doors of the van. Inside, the vehicle was immaculate. There was plenty of room to set the bike inside and Clem lifted it into position as if it weighed nothing.
Garth clambered into the pristine cab, wondering what the hell he was doing. There wasn’t a wrapper or empty coffee cup to be seen—not a comfortable environment for someone as messy as him. Clem got behind the wheel and Garth knew there was no question as to whether the vehicle would start. It wouldn’t dare break down. He fastened his seatbelt, very aware of the wide strap across his body, which seemed less like a safety device, and more of a restraint. He shivered.
“Are you cold? I can turn the heat up.”
Garth shook his head.
“Use words, boy.”
“Not a boy,” Garth grumbled because he felt he had to, not because he really objected to the term.
“But you are a brat.” Clem grinned.
“Screw you.” The words were muttered, but Clem had the hearing of an eagle owl.
“Your mouth needs to be filled with something other than that language and believe me, if there’s any screwing to be done, I’ll be doing it.”
“Don’t make promises you won’t keep.” Garth made eye contact, knowing he was treading on very dangerous ground. The fine lines around Clem’s eyes crinkled. His enigmatic smile didn’t need the accompaniment of words.
“Where are we heading?”
&n
bsp; Garth gave his address and Clem steered the van through quiet streets, avoiding the busier roads near the beach. He didn’t attempt to make conversation, for which Garth was grateful. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable and with Clem’s solid presence beside him, Garth felt safe. When Clem pulled up outside Garth’s block in the student village, Garth found he was reluctant to leave the warmth of the vehicle. The chill night air brought goosebumps to his skin. Clem opened the rear doors to lift out Garth’s bike.
“Here you go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Garth positioned the bike between him and Clem, his backpack balancing on the saddle.
“You will?” A thrill of excitement set Garth’s nerves tingling. Clem leaned across the bike, put a finger beneath Garth’s chin and tilted his head with gentle pressure.
“I will.”
Garth didn’t expect the kiss that followed. It stole his breath and any ability to move. The press of Clem’s lips was chaste but firm. Garth’s cock stiffened and he whimpered. The temptation to beg for more rode him hard.
“Sweet dreams,” Clem said, squeezing the nape of Garth’s neck before he got back into the van.
As Clem drove away, Garth doubted his dreams would be sweet. They were going to be steamy, pulse-pounding, XX-rated… He wheeled his bike toward home, tripping a couple of times in his eagerness to get back. He didn’t want to be excited about the possibility of meeting Clem again, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about the man that called to him and one kiss would never be enough.
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About the Author
Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.
She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.
L.M. Somerton loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at http://www.pride-publishing.com
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