by Z. Allora
The lovely surroundings were there to make the crazies feel better. He and Storm plopped down on what he considered their bench. In a way, being encompassed by such beauty only made his mood worse. He snapped the bands around his wrist, hoping the double shot of pain would help him concentrate.
Jumping at the noise, Storm asked, “What the fuck was that?” His unwavering gaze seemed to burn the red lines left on Cutter’s wrist more than the double sting.
“Therapy.” He slid away from Storm’s warmth.
Storm glided his ass across the bench until he was pressed right back against Cutter. He stared down at Cutter’s wrist.
Damn! Cutter pulled down the long sleeves of his T-shirt so they covered past his wrists. He always covered his arms, hiding the ugly mess of scars.
Storm combed his long fingers through his shoulder-length black hair and attempted to pull it into a ponytail. “Looks like more self-abuse to me. Hey, put one of those in my hair.” The movement wafted Storm’s scent to Cutter’s nose. He’d come straight from his uncle’s office. God, he smelled delectable enough to lick.
Wanting to deny his best friend, but being unable to pass up a chance to play with Storm’s hair, Cutter pulled out a small brush from his leather satchel. “Turn around.”
Obeying, Storm dropped his hands from his hair and scooted closer to sit patiently. Cutter gathered the strands. He carefully detangled the ends and the middle before finally releasing the hair. Drawing the brush from the top of Storm’s head to the ends, he repeated the process until Storm’s hair shone in the setting sun.
Leaning back against Cutter’s body, Storm turned as if to glance up but only succeeded in nuzzling Cutter’s neck.
Cutter went stiff in more ways than one.
Reaching for a distraction, he asked, “How’s your brother?”
“Mmmm, Erick’s fine. Doing well in school and Dad hasn’t killed him yet, so he must be doing something right.”
Cutter hoped playing by the McGrath rules didn’t drive him crazy.
Storm traced the rubber bands around Cutter’s wrist, and then plucked one of them lightly. “Make me a ponytail, Cut. Please.” The words caressed his neck, making Cutter quiver with the need that was too close to the surface.
He snaked both arms around Storm and pulled him tight. He needed to get this over with in one go, because if he stopped he wasn’t sure if he’d ever restart. “One of the things I’m supposed to do is find closure where I can. So that means you shut up and listen.”
“Proceed.” Storm relaxed so more of his weight pressed back into Cutter.
Cutter cleared his throat, then forged forward. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be more than friends. I know you said that the night we were together was a mistake and that’s fine. I get it.”
“Cut, I—”
“Shhhh, let me finish.” He tightened his arms around Storm so he didn’t try to escape from this conversation as he’d always done in the past. “You’re my best friend, and you always will be.”
Cutter inhaled and exhaled raggedly. He found the rubber bands and snapped them hard against his wrist. Ahhhh, that’s a bit better.
“How the fuck is that therapy?” The anger in Storm’s voice confused Cutter.
“Replacement of cutting.” The words hung between them. Cutter had never admitted what things made him cut. Now Storm only needed to watch him pluck the rubber to know what triggered his compulsion.
Storm sat up. He put his hand on Cutter’s knee and squeezed. “I’m here. I’m listening. Talk to me.”
The intensity of emotion couldn’t be projected by Cutter’s heart. Storm cared; Cutter believed that. Why else would he have tolerated him for so long? But the guy didn’t love Cutter the same way Cutter loved him.
“I need to move past this….” He wasn’t going to put a name to his sick one-sided love for Storm. The emotion had too much power over him already. He needed to love more things in this shitty world than Storm. “I need to move on, but we’re still friends.”
“Best friends,” Storm asserted.
Cutter nodded. Maybe this therapy shit had some merit to it, though it’d be nice not to have his heart ripped out of his chest. Where was his knife? Or better yet, a sharp math compass. A thumbtack? Fuck, anything to stop this turmoil of emotions. He’d do anything to stop the pain from eating him alive. Pluck. The mild sting barely scratched his itch. “I need someone who can love me back.”
“I do love you.”
“I know.”
Storm had said he loved Cutter a million times, and he might say the L-word a million times more, but all Cutter heard was “You aren’t enough for me to really love you. You don’t deserve the kind of love you want.”
Maybe Cutter didn’t. He snapped the bands harder.
“Hey, you never put one of those in my hair.” Storm turned back around.
Running the brush back through Storm’s hair, a calm replaced Cutter’s heartbreak. This was on the “Don’t cut yourself” activity list: distract himself by doing something other than cutting. He gathered the dark strands and bound them together, paying attention to the details of Storm’s hair. The soft texture sifting through his fingers lessened his need to cut. Go figure, the Doc was onto something.
The sun had set, and the outdoor lamps lit the path back to the dorm. He was tempted to turn the tail into a bun but resisted. “There, it’s all done. The rat’s nest has been tamed.”
Hopefully it was, and Cutter would move forward, though in what direction he wasn’t sure.
Storm swiveled on the bench to face him. “Come here.”
No! Yes! Oh God, I am fucked. “What?”
With gentle fingers, Storm swiped his thumbs under Cutter’s eyes. “You look like a baby raccoon with this shit on.”
“Do not.” His denial was weak as he leaned into Storm’s touch.
“I don’t even know why you wear it.”
Cutter didn’t bother to justify his need to hide behind cosmetics or to try to enhance his appearance. And he certainly didn’t need to melt at Storm’s simple touch. He reached down to pluck the single rubber band that remained. Ah, a little better.
“How are Uli and Alex?”
Storm had agreed to keep in touch with Ulrich since Cutter was forbidden technology while undergoing therapy. “They seem to be good. Ulrich misses you a lot.”
He shoved the stab of emptiness away. “So nothing new?”
“We’re invited to Ulrich’s birthday party.”
Cut smiled. “We’re going, right?”
Storm pulled out the cell phone he’d hidden in his sock. Being off the grid didn’t sit well with him. He was a genius and slipped an old cell phone into the basket at the front desk. Thus far, he’d yet to be found out.
Cutter caught a peek at what Storm was texting.
Replacement therapy… looks like I was replaced.
Cutter’s instinct was to deny it, but he didn’t. When it was time, he hugged Storm good night. Then he did number nine on his “Do Something Other Than Cut” list.
Go figure, he’d been doing number nine since he hit puberty. He practiced number nine so much maybe he should be surprised he even had time to cut! Compelled, he did number nine three times before he finally fell asleep to dreams of the three men about whom he’d just finished fantasizing.
9
You Want Control, You Take It
“Please, Alex! Let me come!” Ulrich trembled against the leather massage bed he lay sprawled on. His pretty begging fed Alex’s need to dominate, which had increased recently.
Visiting the extraction room had become part of Uli and Alex’s routine. Alex had started to be able to enjoy the relaxing touch.
When the therapist left, he’d pushed their two beds together and used the milking device to tease his Uli senseless.
Alex sensually tormented Uli, forcing him to reach euphoric levels of arousal he’d never be patient enough to reach alone, and as always Uli had surrendered control of
the milker to Alex. The raw energy and power Alex experienced from Ulrich’s breathless begging was unparalleled. As they spent more time in the extraction room, Uli’s acquiescence became a habit that nourished Alex’s newly discovered—or unmasked—dominant desires.
“But you just orgasmed, Uli.” Alex kept his voice calm and quiet as he tried to ignore the exhilaration coursing through him at being in control of Ulrich’s pleasure. He’d let Ulrich come almost immediately, but now Alex built him up.
Alex climaxed twice into the vacuum of the sucking device, watching and enjoying Ulrich’s growing desperation for release. Uli’s response to the delay of his own pleasure was more gratifying than the device’s ravenous hunger. Being able to give Uli more than he ever knew fed something growing louder inside Alex.
Uli stared as Alex poured more lubricant over his own shaft; he felt like one of the stars in the pornography they had watched. Ulrich’s begging whimper helped Alex continue his battle to “overcome residual negative feelings connected to touching himself,” or at least that’s what his counselor had said to him.
Alex might not have completely put the past behind him, but he’d started to put it in the proper place. He focused on what he could do to intensify Ulrich’s lusty comments, and not surprisingly, that’s what felt best to him.
Uli moans grew louder when Alex ran a finger around the crown of his penis, and coaxed glistening drips from the slit. “I’ll do anything.” Uli’s voice sounded hoarse. “I’ll be your slave.”
Yes! That concept fueled Alex to thrust his erection back into the milker. The tube’s suction welcomed him. Alex imagined this would be similar to what Uli’s pornography referred to as being “sucked to the root.”
“Please, Alex.” Uli’s breath came in shallow gasps. Alex allowed the machine to give him a fraction more suction. “I’ll be your good slave.”
Alex closed his eyes and savored the words. They filled an empty space deep inside him. But he wanted more. “Kiss me.”
A joyful sound escaped Uli. He rolled toward Alex to find his mouth. When their lips met, Alex turned the dial, giving Uli enough stimulation to orgasm. Two grunts later, Uli’s voice rose up happily as the milking machine took his donation. Uli’s kiss deepened as he writhed through his physical gratification.
When his body ceased its dance of release, Alex dialed down Ulrich’s cylinder to zero.
Uli opened eyes that held a dreamy, faraway gaze. A small smile played on his lips. “Come too, Alex. Please.”
Alex’s control slipped.
Uli seemed to know exactly what to say. “Come for me… Master. Show me I was a good slave for you, Master.”
Whoosh! Every intention Alex had of waiting and maintaining control over his body evaporated.
Master. Master! The word seemed to echo in the room. His body convulsed with white-hot pleasure as waves of tremendous satisfaction crashed over him.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but when Alex came back to reality, Uli was curled up against the side of his body and toyed with his hair. “I love the color of your hair. It’s so blond, it’s almost white.”
Ulrich never became awkward after their physical intimacy. If anything, he grew more comfortable and maybe even a little closer. Deep in his soul, Alex sensed their mating bond, but Cutter was coming back to the area in a few days, and Alex had no idea how to prove to Uli he might have more than one mate.
Alex was out of options. “Hey, you don’t mind if I don’t go to your tutoring session today, do you?” Alex continued to work with Uli’s tutor because even though he had his GED, he loved learning.
“What? Why? Do you have a therapy session?” Uli frowned.
Alex kissed his cheek. “Nope. I’m just going to head over and chat with Lafayette.”
“Why?” Uli’s voice pushed up into a higher range.
Moving off the table, Alex put away the machine. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Oh, um. Yeah. Right. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
“No. I just… I want to see how he’s doing. You know, to check in.” It wasn’t completely a lie, but Uli’s expression said he wasn’t buying it. “I’ll see you after you’re done.”
Alex raised his fist to knock on Lafayette’s office door for the third time, but he backed away. Maybe he should go to the doctor instead. Or perhaps he—
“Come in,” Lafayette barked.
Darn it. His newly found determination to continue putting his past behind him fled, inviting all his feelings of inadequacy to surface. He opened the door and poked his head in.
The big man sat behind his paper-covered desk. Lafayette oversaw the businesses operated by Club Zombie, made sure everything ran smoothly, and what free time he had left was devoted to his mate.
Alex shouldn’t trouble him with trivial problems. He backed out the door. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“Come in and sit. I’ve been watching your shadow lurk at the door for five minutes.” Lafayette pointed to one of the leather club chairs in front of his big cherry desk and gave Alex his full attention. “Take a deep breath.”
Alex did, allowing the scent of leather and sex that clung to the office fill him with calmness. He slowly released the air, cleansing him of confusion.
“Now talk to me.” When Alex didn’t know how to start, Lafayette encouraged him. “You’ve seemed troubled recently.”
Alex’s skin felt too tight for his body. If it were possible, he’d shed his shell and… what? Run? Trapped! Tearing off his skin wasn’t a productive option. “It feels like… I don’t know… something’s happening… inside me.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Lafayette leaned forward, his muscular body taking up even more of his chair.
Clearing his throat first so he wouldn’t mumble again, Alex stated his issue, “I feel crazy, really… like I need to make things the way they should be. I’ve been having….” Darn it, this is embarrassing and hard.
“You can tell me anything. Not much I haven’t heard, and you know I won’t judge.”
“I know.” Alex did.
Lafayette was successful in every way, and Alex envied him. He was happy with his life, he was able to give his mate everything Beau needed on every level, and he was able to assist others. But how could the dominant man truly understand what Alex was going through?
When Alex kept quiet, Lafayette folded his hands and smiled. “Take all the time you need.”
Alex spit out, “I feel like I’m going to split in three.”
Lafayette tilted his head and intensified his study of Alex but remained silent.
“In a way, I feel like you, but then, look at me.” Alex gestured to his slender form. His mother had beaten him more than once for being weak.
“When you say like me, what do you mean? You mean more than my muscle, right?”
Alex released frustration with an exhale at whatever made him who and what he was. Wasn’t it tough enough being a zombie, but now all these desires he’d kept hidden seemed to be forcing his hand?
“I’m dominant. Or I think I might be. I’ve been having these thoughts, and I can no longer stop thinking them.” Alex held his breath and waited for the man to start laughing at the ridiculous statement.
“Have you spoken to your therapist about this?”
“No….”
“But you feel like you want to dominate someone?”
Alex stumbled on. “Yeah, but look at me. How can I dominate my mates and give them what they need?”
“Being dominant isn’t about… wait. Mates? As in plural?” Lafayette’s eyes went wide.
Shoot! Alex hadn’t meant say that out loud. He barely believed it himself. He put his face into his hands, trying not to cringe. When he dared to peek up, he shrugged. “Uli doesn’t think he’s mine, and I can’t prove it… yet.”
“Uli hasn’t transitioned, so he can’t sense your connection.” Lafayette gave words to Alex’s thoughts.
> “He relies on his inner vision, but he doesn’t see the entire picture.” Alex hoped he was making sense.
“And those other boys, the ones Kai keeps on trying to chase out of the club?” Lafayette grinned, but didn’t laugh at Uli’s cousin’s persistence.
“Cutter and Storm.” Saying the names of his mates out loud made Alex more determined to follow his destiny. “I can sense we belong together. They each need me, but in very different ways, and I crave them.”
“But you’ve not exchanged seed or blood with any of them?” Lafayette pieced together Alex’s predicament.
Blushing, Alex shook his head. It was all too new. Even allowing his own orgasm to be released seemed incredible… the idea of sharing his essence… still eons beyond him.
“You seem sure they’re yours.” Lafayette cocked his head and scrutinized Alex.
You don’t deserve three mates, let alone one, you abomination. Alex hushed his mother’s grating voice, refusing to let it steal his happiness. “I can’t tell you how I know, but my longing for our bond has grown stronger and stronger. Deep in my gut, I know we belong together.”
After studying him for a minute longer, Lafayette nodded. “You wouldn’t be the first to have multiple mates. I understand it can be as much of a blessing as it is a curse, but there’s no choice. Others have survived, as will you.”
The simple acceptance from Lafayette blew Alex away. Uli certainly hadn’t entertained the idea they might be mates. Alex racked his brain for others in a similar position, but he’d only heard of one trio, currently traipsing around Europe, and, of course, Corey and Jackson, who were waiting for their third. But he’d never heard of a foursome.
“You’ve said you were like me. Tell me why?”
Alex shrugged. Afraid to masturbate, has three mates, and dominant. That didn’t sound insane at all. “Um… I’ve always wanted to be in control. I know it’s crazy. I’ve never been comfortable with people. And look at me—”
“First off, body type really doesn’t have anything to do with being dominant or not. And secondly, I don’t know much about your history, but I do know you’ve not had an easy past, which affects how you’re able to express your dominance.”
