Tank’s head snapped up at him. “Stop thinking with your dick, this is serious!”
Boar sighed deeply, remaining the only ‘good cop’ in the room. “Would it be so bad if we kept him, though?”
It took Clover a few seconds to process what he’d just heard. “I’m not a pet. I’m not a ‘thing’ to keep!”
Tank grabbed his jaw, his rough fingertips digging into the flesh. “Listen, smartass, right now, you’re a massive fucking problem. Do you have a phone we don’t know about? A sim card? I need to know how they found you.”
Clover’s stomach dropped, and guilt must have been painted all over his face because Drake sneered and shook his head. If Clover wanted out of this mess, if he wanted help from these guys, even if provided thanks to a shady arrangement, he needed to be more honest.
“I… may have made a call.”
“A call,” Tank said in a tone that could have frozen water mid-air, and it had the same effect on Clover, who hunched his shoulders, hyperaware of the fact that there was no one to hear his screams for miles.
Pyro let out a laugh, though he wasn’t smiling. “Is this little shit serious?”
Clover entwined his fingers, hot with panic. If they decided he wasn’t worth the risk and chose to kill him, he stood no chance. “From your old phone. I’m sorry. I was so angry. I wanted to let Jerry know I was safe, that no one could get to me.”
“Fucking Christ!” Boar slapped the back of Tank’s shoulder. “You’ve got that phone on you now?”
Tank shook his head. “I got rid of it after today’s call with Drake. Do you even know how much danger you’ve put us in? One of us might have ended up dead because of you.”
Boar cleared his throat. “Am I the only one who doesn’t know who Jerry is?”
Clover realized that he’d lost his head and said too much. So far, keeping secrets had helped him stay alive, but this one slip-up would ruin his innocent act. They would never believe him again. Game over. He wasn’t half as good at lying as he thought he was.
Sweat beaded on his back as he looked up, lightheaded and so afraid he didn’t even bother to hide his shivering hands.
Silence stretched for what felt like minutes, even though it could have only been a couple of seconds.
“Who is it, Clover?” Tank said, sounding composed, though his quiet voice still felt like a scream in the silent warehouse.
Drake snarled. “Do we even need to know? Let’s rip off this Band-Aid and get rid of him.”
Clover’s ship was sinking fast, and he needed to grab onto something if he didn’t want to drown. “He’s my old boss, okay? A shady guy. I did stuff for him, just like some other people, and we got cash and a place to stay in exchange. Sold some weed, stole some wallets, gathered information on stuff, started conversations with targets to find out about their schedules. But that has nothing to do with the kidnapping. He sold me off to someone else because I was getting too old, not innocent-looking enough, and most of all, too recognizable. I gave that guy two years of my life! I just… I thought we were out of danger when I called him.”
“Not just a tourist, then,” Pyro said, catching a handful of Clover’s hair and playing with it. His gaze burned, but Clover didn’t dare move, focusing on Tank and Drake standing above him like a grand jury.
“Not a tourist,” Boar repeated, stroking his beard with one hand.
Tank sucked air into his lungs and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Clover with an unreadable expression. “You lied to us. You used my phone without permission.”
Clover took a deep breath, fighting tears and a growing ache in his chest. “Please… I underestimated things, I’m sorry. I thought this nightmare was over once you killed Riggs. I don’t know what to do, I’m so scared.”
Drake scoffed. “Hollywood awaits someone with your acting skills.”
“It’s not an act! I’m way over my head. So I did some shit in life, I’m no innocent, but I’m not a fighter. I can’t protect myself from the kind of people after me.”
Tank inhaled again when Boar gave his shoulder a light punch. This wasn’t so bad. They were still considering what to do. Or so Clover hoped.
“Don’t even dare move,” Tank said, nodding toward the other side of the warehouse.
Drake clenched his teeth so hard the sound made Clover flinch, but the men left him, gravitating to their vehicles. Unlike his eyesight, Cover’s hearing was very good, but they went far enough to keep him in the dark about discussions concerning his fate. The inability to do anything had his stomach clenching again and again as he watched the four figures hovering in the shadows on the other side of the vast open space.
Tank was the most imposing of them all. Stiff in his movements, he kept looking back at Clover. Would he have mercy for a boy who was beginning to love calling him ‘Daddy’, or would nights of tenderness not matter in the face of the danger lying ahead?
Clover didn’t even want to consider what awaited him if his lies couldn’t be forgiven.
Time passed so slowly Clover thought he might develop ulcers in his stomach from the stress, but he sat up when the four mercenaries marched his way, with Tank walking first, like the tip of an arrow.
Clover sought out Drake’s face, since he’d been against Clover’s presence from the get-go, but the man’s angular features were like those of a robot. He wondered if there was anything at all to help his case at this point, but he was too frightened to move a finger, in case the men took it as yet another sign of disobedience.
He was at their mercy now and could only hope for a lenient verdict.
“You’re staying,” Boar said right away, causing Tank to roll his eyes.
“Not so fast.”
Clover swallowed, his legs heavy as if they were made of lead. “So… am I staying or not?”
Tank stood in front of him with his hands on his hips. “We need to establish new rules, boy, if you want our protection. First of all, you better be respectful. No acting up, no lies, no assholish moves. Is that understood?”
Clover nodded so fast hair fell into his face, but Tank continued, “If you break the rules, there will be consequences. You’re ours, and we protect what’s ours. But if you want to keep things that way, you take the punishment given, or you fuck right off. Understood?”
Clover’s heart stopped beating altogether as he stared up at Tank’s stern face, which made him feel as small as a hummingbird next to a vulture.
But he nodded.
Tank sat in the chair opposite Clover and pointed to his lap. “Since you acted like a naughty fucking baby, you’re gonna get a kid’s punishment. Get your ass over here.”
Clover stilled at first but then glanced at the others. Was Tank suggesting what Clover thought he was suggesting? In front of everyone? A flush crept up Clover’s face, which in some ways was even more embarrassing than the promise of things to come, because his skin made it impossible to pretend that this didn’t scare him.
“A-as in…?”
“As in I’m gonna spank your ass until it’s like a rare steak.”
Drake hissed and walked off, discontent over having been outvoted again. This wasn’t good. If Clover wanted to survive, he needed to gain everyone’s sympathy, even his. He needed to be pliant. Useful.
“Are you moving or not? Because I’m ready for the show,” Pyro said, flashing Clover a wide smile as he leaned against a pillar.
Clover swallowed and got up with a heavy heart. He didn’t expect Boar to step in and pull him into a tight hug. His beard was pleasantly soft on Clover’s cheek when the teddy bear of a mercenary pressed a kiss to Clover’s head.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, before releasing Clover.
Warmth filled Clover’s heart at that small gesture. This wasn’t just about him begging for protection. He was wanted, and the punishment, no matter how humiliating, was a way for them to forgive the transgression that had put everyone at risk. He took a deep breath and was about to bend over when
Tank poked his chest.
“Pants down.”
Clover rubbed his face, stalled, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but there would be no escaping his fate. He opened his jeans to the accompaniment of silence and then pulled them under his ass, along with the underwear, because he had no doubt that would be coming off as well. Tank allowed Clover to lean over his lap once his ass was bare against the cool air.
His face burned, the weight of Tank’s hand felt like impending doom, yet he deserved this and didn’t have the right to protest. Drake could have died today because of Clover’s petty need for a phone call. All things considered, his keepers were going easy on him.
Resting his cheek on the armrest, Clover shut his eyes when Tank widened his thighs in order to accommodate Clover’s cock and balls. The rough fabric of his jeans teased the sensitive skin, feeling oddly like a caress, even though Clover didn’t expect anything pleasant from what was to come.
This moment was a humiliating punishment by design. The guys didn’t want to hurt him physically, so they targeted his mind, and it was working, because the shame of being exposed like this, in front of four people, for no reasons beyond chastising, had him squirming already.
Tank hummed and rested his other hand between Clover’s shoulder blades before combing its fingers through his hair and uncovering his face for everyone to see.
Drake stood in the shadows, creating physical distance between himself and the decision they’d all come to, but Clover could still sense the heat of his gaze, despite not knowing what it meant.
The shock of the first slap made Clover scream. It was nothing like the playful slaps Tank had administered in bed. These might not cause permanent damage, but still burned as if the palm had spikes, and if that first hit was anything to go by, Clover would be unable to sit down tomorrow.
He briefly saw Drake’s face when the man lit himself a cigarette. He was farther away than the others, but his eyes glistened. He was watching.
Clover’s heart beat like mad when Tank rubbed his palm over the buttocks, as if to tenderize them in preparation for the next slap. “How many?” he choked out. He at least deserved to know that much.
“Twenty,” Tank said and delivered another slap that had Clover squirming and promising himself he would never lie to any of those men again.
Each time Tank’s hand landed on his skin, he continued with the infuriating rubbing, which made the burn even worse. But there was nowhere to run if he wanted a clean slate with his protectors, so Clover clenched his hands on the armrest and breathed in and out.
He should’ve been angry that Tank felt as if he had any right to discipline Clover, but the fact of the matter was that he was in a position of authority, and Clover himself craved to be a good boy for the man who’d shown him so much care.
The spanking took forever, each smack pushing Clover deeper into the abyss, where he desperately tried to grind his teeth and be a good boy. He’d thought they were about to be done when Tank announced he’d only spanked Clover ten times.
Half of the punishment the guys had decided on.
Clover sobbed in helplessness even before the broad palm hit his butt again.
He’d thought he’d been embarrassed before, but it was the tears spilling down his face for everyone to see that made his knees tremble. “It’s too much,” he whimpered, with his toes curled.
“No, it isn’t. You know what would have been too much? You lying dead on the asphalt because of your own stupidity,” Tank said sternly, and made the next smack so harsh Clover cried out again, thrashing in Tank’s lap, already far beyond his control.
His buttocks were on fire, as if Tank’s hand were made of lava, and while spanking didn’t seem like too harsh of a punishment in theory, it hurt like a motherfucker when delivered by such strong hands. So, Clover focused on the fabric rubbing against him and on the soft grunts Tank made each time his palm descended to deliver another blow. With the tears running down Clover’s face and his body out of control, his head became a swollen hot presence that offered no space for thinking or even counting.
When Tank lost his rhythm, Clover was so certain it was over that he looked back, only to see Pyro slam his hand down on his ass so hard Clover tried to pick himself up. But he wouldn’t get to. Both men held him down, and now that Pyro joined in, Clover was missing the steadiness of Tank’s blows.
Pyro’s were an unpredictable assault, yet more shocking when Pyro slipped his fingers between Clover’s buttocks. So far, the pain had numbed Clover to any sexual thoughts, but the moment Pyro touched his pucker, the need for tenderness became so great Clover moaned and turned slightly to curl into Tank. His whole brain throbbed in anticipation of the next slap.
“Stop it,” Boar grunted. “I’ll do the last three, and let’s get this over with.”
“Be my guest,” Tank said with a rumbly laugh.
Clover sniffed and braced himself, but in comparison with Pyro and Tank, the last three slaps were a mercy, and Clover would bet Boar butted in just to spare him.
He knew Tank’s rough fingers by heart now, so when Tank put his hand over Clover’s buttocks, massaging the tender flesh in slow, circular movements, Clover gave into it without protest.
His brain was still hazy when Tank urged Clover up, his knees so weak he had to hold on to the armchair. He rubbed his face with his T-shirt, ashamed of the tears and snot covering his face, and shaken by what he’d endured.
He didn’t flinch when Tank extended his arm, instead climbing into Tank’s lap so fast he stumbled. He wanted the care. He wanted Tank to call him a good boy even if that meant having to adhere to rules he’d never had to follow.
When he sobbed and hugged Tank’s neck tightly, sitting his throbbing ass in Tank’s lap, Tank wrapped his strong arms around Clover as if he hadn’t been the one to beat him.
“It’s okay. You did good. It’s okay now.”
The relief those words brought surprised Clover with its intensity. Only now did he realize that this absolution from his guilt was worth a sore ass.
Chapter 8 - Tank
Tank’s dick was reacting to the pliant way with which Clover pushed into his arms. His beaten ass surely stung, so the boy ended up straddling him, chest pressed to Tank’s, and his white head in the crook of his arm.
Tank sighed, petting the trembling back as Clover sobbed his complaints, melting into him—the very man who’d been the source of his pain
Beyond the weak glow of the lamp, Drake manifested his discontent by creating physical distance, but regardless of what he kept saying during their discussion earlier, the hypocritical bastard wanted Clover too. He wouldn’t have stuck around to watch. He wouldn’t have taken those two steps closer to the sweet, milky candy that was Clover.
“You’re safe, you’re ours, and you’ve done really well,” Tank cooed, stroking Clover’s trembling back. “You will never lie to me again, will you?”
“I won’t, Daddy.”
Tank groaned at the sound of that word. In their line of work, it wasn’t easy to find a stable partner. Especially not one to build trust with. Clover had pushed all of Tank’s buttons from the start, but now the stakes had gotten even higher.
Clover had asked for care and given himself over to Tank. That wasn’t an exchange Tank took lightly. He would give the boy not only protection, but also the affection Clover craved, despite him being so mouthy.
They’d broken through to Clover, and the boy had handed over information about himself with an open heart, even though Tank was sure more skeletons hid in Clover’s closet. All in good time.
He pulled on Clover’s hair and looked into his rosy, damp face. “Do you have anything else to say? To me? To Drake? To all of us?” he asked, feeling a growing heat in response to the way Clover rocked his hips above his lap in an effort to deal with the ache in his buttocks.
Clover swallowed, his eyes twitching, dazed behind the glasses. He was unique. Beautiful from the unusual blue-pink sh
ade of his irises, to the long white hair, to the small pale nipples, and rosy tips of his white toes. His limbs were graceful, despite Clover being short, and his ass was a pale peach Tank wanted to bite into. The growing bruises on the flesh only made it more enticing. Following the lesson Clover would remember for days to come, it was an angry color that had Tank’s balls tightening. If he could, he’d never let Clover leave his bed.
“I shouldn’t have used Tank’s phone. I’m sorry I put you all at risk,” Clover uttered, trembling like a leaf. “You especially, Drake. I’m sorry. Thank you for keeping me despite all that.”
Drake groaned and exhaled a cloud of smoke that sent vapors of nicotine their way. “Accepted,” was all he had to say, but this was a lot coming from him.
Boar stepped closer and stroked Clover’s hair as if the boy was their pet. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
What would it be like to have someone like Clover stick around for longer? New York wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. They had to lay low for a while first, and Tank would’ve been lying if he said he was unhappy about the delay. It had been awhile since he enjoyed someone’s body so much he could barely keep his lust at bay, but the fact that Clover wasn’t just a pretty boy hook-up, but someone who depended on Tank, who trusted his judgment, made him restless over the prospect of parting in the future.
It wasn’t like Clover had anywhere to go, was it? He’d been lying through his teeth out of fear for his life, and if he’d man up and tell them the truth himself, then maybe Tank could have a serious think about making their arrangement more permanent.
“You’re okay now. Nobody’s gonna find us here,” Tank said to reassure Clover, but he lost the plot when he saw the damp streaks on Clover’s beautiful face and mindlessly rubbed them off.
“Do I get to fuck him now, or not?” Pyro asked out of the blue, bursting the bubble of Tank’s enchantment with the boy who seemed both stubborn and fragile.
Tank pushed up Clover’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Clover’s had such an amazing shade, like two pale pink pearls glazed with translucent blue. Hypnotically beautiful even in the sparse light in the warehouse. “How about that?”
Their Bounty (Dark Gay Harem Contemporary Romance) (Four Mercenaries Book 1) Page 8
