Table of Contents
Title Page
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Serving Simon
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
Simon has an offer for his stressed out roommate, but is this stubborn sub already too far gone for Simon’s methods?
Max’s high pressure job as a surgeon is getting to him and he’s starting to suffer for it. His roommate Simon has a solution for him, but is Max ready to give up control or will this Dom have to work for it?
Simon’s not used to dealing with such stubborn subs, but he can’t sit back and let Max’s health and sanity continue to decline in the name of his work. Enough is enough already and if Max doesn’t accept what he’s offering, then Simon might just have to come up with something even more drastic.
But when a night of passion between these two strong willed men exposes Simon’s secrets, it might be he who has to learn to trust and let go of the control he so desperately seeks.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Serving Simon
Copyright © 2013 Caitlin Ricci
ISBN: 978-1-77111-608-4
Cover art by Scott Carpenter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
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Serving Simon
By
Caitlin Ricci
Chapter One
Max Peterson stumbled up to the front steps of his second story condo. The welcome mat below his muddy sneakers read The Doctor Is In. When he’d found it, the green lettering on the tan background had made him smile. Today though, getting off a two-day rotation and too exhausted to remember the last thing he’d forced himself to eat, he could have done without the cheeriness of it all.
He forced his hands to move, his fingers to find and then twist his key into the lock. His feet came next as the door opened wide. They were reluctant to move and felt too heavy to lift. Still, being inside was better than standing out on the landing between his condo and the one across from it. The elderly couple across from him might begin to wonder about him if they happened to see him like this.
If they didn’t already.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Leaning back against the cool wood, he allowed his eyes to close. Just one moment, just a little—
No, no, he wasn’t going there. A little girl’s face washed in front of his eyes and his vision blurred as bile shot back up into his throat. He sucked in deep gulps of air, desperate to get this thing under control. He’d lost people on the table before this. Hell, he was the head of surgery at a major metropolitan hospital in the area. No one got that position without thousands of surgeries under their belt. And statistics showed that once in awhile people were going to die.
But statistics weren’t seven year old girls with bright blue eyes and a body broken from years of abuse. At least, they weren’t supposed to be.
“Sit down.”
Max looked around, startled, until his roommate, Simon Baker, stepped out of the kitchen and sat down in their small living room. Max swallowed thickly, the sight of Simon in little more than a pair of shorts doing strange things to his stomach. He shook his head and moved toward his bedroom. He couldn’t deal with this right now. Simon was hot, powerful. He reminded Max of a thunderstorm. What Max needed was a cup of hot jasmine tea or, if he couldn’t get that, at least a few good hours of sleep in his bed. He didn’t have to be at the hospital tomorrow, a rare occurrence when he worked at least fifty hours a week.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Simon,” he called, giving his roommate a little wave and kicking off his shoes near the door. They had a mat for their boots and such, Simon’s idea. Max would deal with it in the morning. When it was light out. Or when he could string together a coherent thought that didn’t feel more like suffocating under a pillow than actual words.
“I believe I told you to sit, Maxwell,” Simon’s voice, darkly pleasurable, rumbled through the apartment. Max shivered, knowing the reaction to Simon’s voice was involuntary but still wishing it didn’t happen anyway.
He shook his head, trying to force himself to move toward his bedroom. To open the door that stood between him and the comfortable bed he’d just treated himself with. He could almost feel the down comforter wrapping around him, hugging his body as he slipped into what would hopefully be a dreamless night’s sleep. He didn’t need to be reminded of things best left forgotten when he closed his eyes as well. It was bad enough seeing their faces when he was awake.
But part of him was curious. Simon wasn’t one to speak to him often. He was a good roommate, quiet and clean. Much more so than Max was. And he wasn’t rude, he didn’t have parties and he’d never even brought a friend over in the year and a half that they’d been living together. But still, there was so much more to Simon that Max wished he knew. He was a question that Max’s insatiable curiosity hadn’t been able to figure out. And that had never sat all that well with him.
Max found himself walking toward the sound of Simon’s voice. Knowing where he’d be sitting even before he found him in the big leather chair he’d brought with him from his last apartment. That was another thing that had bothered Max at first. Simon had expensive taste. And not knock-off expensive. Everything in his life was high quality and brand name. While they’d never talked about money more than the basics of who would pay what and this was how much the rent was, Max knew Simon could afford far more than what he paid. Even in a city as expensive as Denver was, Simon could have probably afforded his own apartment. But instead he’d answered Max’s online ad, seeking a roommate after his last had decided to move out. She’d started dating a guy and wanted to move in with him. He’d been sad to see her go. Having a girl around made life more interesting and meant that he wouldn’t be attracted to the person sharing the space.
Too bad that hadn’t been the case with Simon. Max sat down across from him, the heavy cherry wood coffee table between them. Knowing Simon was sleeping in the room next to his, seeing the man come out of the single bathroom they shared with little more than a dark green towel around his slim hips, had done things to Max since day one. He should have never agreed to let a guy move in with him. Especially not one as beautiful as Simon. But after two months of searching and finding no one that fit with him, or, failing that, one that could prove their income, he’d become desperate. He had savings but he wasn’t going to keep paying for the expensive apartment on his own. That wasn’t what he�
��d sacrificed nights out with friends and trips to exotic locations to be able to do.
“You look tired,” Simon began, handing him a cup.
“Uh huh.” Max took it, eagerly drinking whatever Simon had decided to give him. Knowing the other man, it was probably whiskey. Or something equally dark and strong. But when warm tea met his tongue, the sweet taste of orange and spice coating his throat, he moaned. “It’s good,” he said, putting the cup down.
Simon nodded, his brown hair falling in front of his eyes. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice naturally quiet. Simon didn’t yell and Max had never even heard him raise his voice. Even when he sang in the mornings while making eggs on those rare moments when Max caught him completely relaxed and he thought no one was watching him, Simon was still quiet. He didn’t need to be loud. Most people did, but Simon didn’t. He was powerful just by existing. He commanded attention like a bullmastiff did. Like a great sports car. Like a beautiful woman. He was grace and size and beauty, all put together.
And being near him made Max nearly lose his mind.
“Can’t it wait until morning?” Max asked, knowing there was a whine in there somewhere and not caring. He was damn tired. Simon knew that. He’d even commented on it. He could have the decency to let him just go to bed. “I’ll be much better in the morning.”
Simon shook his head. “No, Max. You need to sit and listen now. This has gone on long enough.”
Max blinked nervously, quickly perking up at hearing his roommate sounding so unhappy. “What had? I didn’t know we were having trouble. You didn’t say anything. I thought when you moved in that we promised to always tell each other if something was bothering us. Did something happen that you aren’t happy with?”
“Max, hush,” Simon said, seemingly scolding him. Max frowned. “Listen to me for a few minutes. I’ll make it fast. If you want to know more, then you can. If you want to go to bed after I tell you what I’m about to, then that’s fine, too.”
Simon had grabbed Max’s attention with his simple statement. He found himself nodding although he had no idea what he was agreeing to.
“Wait… What?” Max asked, coming back to himself.
Simon’s full mouth turned up into a smile. It was pleasant, but Max knew something was off about it. There was too much predator to his prey for Max to feel completely comfortable with where this evening was going.
“I’m just going to go… I need to sleep,” Max said, finishing lamely as he started to lift himself off the couch.
“I’m a Dom,” Simon said, his words filling the silence in the room.
Max froze halfway out of the chair. “A what?”
“A Dom. You’ve heard of Dominant and Submissive right?” Simon asked.
He nodded. The idea of role-playing wasn’t completely foreign to him. He’d once bought an old military outfit at a surplus store because an ex-boyfriend had asked him to dress up. The game had been fun. But that’s all it had been. Somehow he didn’t think Simon meant what he was thinking. “Sure, like the sex games,” Max said quickly, shrugging as he stood up. “So you like to wear leather and collars and such and play with other people?” It was strange to think of Simon dressed like that, but then again most of this conversation was strange. And the idea of his roommate dressed from head to toe in leather and wielding a riding crop, like he’d seen on a poster once, was kind of kinky.
Simon shook his head. “No, not like a game. Come here, Max.”
“I am right here,” Max said, not understanding.
Simon’s right hand lifted and his long fingers moved to point at the floor next to him. “No, come here.”
Chapter Two
Max shook his head. “Uh no, fuck you very much, Simon. But I’m not sitting at your feet like some goddamn pet dog.”
Simon’s grin turned far less serious and surprisingly, he laughed. “I knew you and I were going to get along, Max.”
Max frowned, clearly confused. “But I just said no to you. Isn’t that like the opposite of what Doms are supposed to say when someone tells them no. Are you sure you’re a Dom?”
Simon nodded and stood with him. “I am quite sure and have been for many years. But you telling me no means that you won’t just bend and break when I demand it of you. It was a test, Max. And you did very well.”
“I had enough tests in all my years of college. But thanks for that. Now, I’m going to bed. If you want to tell me more about being a Dom tomorrow, feel free. As for me, I’m going to climb into bed and go to sleep. I’m tired, Simon. I don’t want to do this anymore. Let me go get some rest,” Max said, definitely whining now.
Simon nodded and went to Max’s bedroom door. He opened it for him and stepped aside. “Absolutely. I’m not going to force you to listen. If you’d rather not hear what I was going to say that’s up to you. I don’t mind.”
Max frowned and crossed his arms. “That’s not fair. I do want to know. I just don’t—”
“Don’t what?”
He shrugged, unsure of what he really wanted to do right now. Listening to Simon sounded like a good idea. Maybe he had something to say that Max really did want to hear. But then again, maybe he was full of shit and speaking nonsense. Still, this was Simon. He’d lived with the man for over a year. And he’d never come across as a crazy psychopath. Strange sometimes, absolutely. But not crazy.
“I’m waiting,” Simon said, bringing Max’s attention back to him.
“And I’m still thinking,” Max said, snapping at him.
Simon’s deep chuckle rumbled through Max’s chest, warming him to the core. He loved the sound of Simon’s laugh and even the little chuckle he had just made was enough to make Max’s cock swell in his pants. He so didn’t need this right now. On top of everything else that had happened today, he didn’t need Simon knowing how turned on his roommate made him. The man didn’t even know he was gay for fuck’s sake. At the very least they had another few months of living together. He couldn’t screw that all up now by freaking Simon out.
“Come on, Max,” Simon said, walking toward him. “You know that pretty little head of yours can think faster than that.”
Max’s mouth fell open. “You think my head is pretty?” He scowled. That wasn’t something guys usually said to each other. At least not the ones he’d ever known.
Simon nodded and reached out to touch him. His hand landed on Max’s shoulder, the warmth bleeding through his shirt. “Yes, Max. You have a pretty head. But that’s not what you want to know.”
“It’s not?” Max said, frowning.
Simon smiled and shook his head. “No, you want to know why I’m telling you now, after we’ve been living together for so long, that I’m a Dom.”
Max hoped his face didn’t give away too much of what he was thinking because yes, Simon was right. He did want to know that. Among other things. Like what he looked like in the leather pants Max pictured him wearing. And if he owned leather pants. And what size he was because if he didn’t, Max was going to make sure he did now. Just so that he could see him walking around the apartment in his leather pants, barefoot without a shirt on. Simon had lovely feet. Long bones and neatly trimmed nails. Max hadn’t thought he’d been a foot man until he’d seen Simon walk around in a pair of faded blue jeans one morning while drinking a glass of milk. His feet had been as bare as his chest was. Max hadn’t been able to stop staring, and luckily Simon hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had. Maybe he’d always known when Max was watching him. Like some kind of freaky stalker. But he wasn’t. It wasn’t stalking if the man lived with you. Was it? He didn’t think so. That was just called being aware. He was supposed to know what his roommate was up to. Wasn’t he? That was just being smart. Yes, he was just—
“Max, enough,” Simon said, interrupting his wayward thoughts. “Do you want to know why I want to tell you about being a Dom?”
“Yes,” Max answered automatically, still picturing him wearing a pair of tight leather pants that would perfectly fit Simon’
s muscular ass. “I mean—”
“Go lay down on your bed. Get comfortable,” Simon said, his voice soft though the words were clipped. Max didn’t know if his roommate was angry with him, had become frustrated, or was simply giving a command.
Since going to bed was what he wanted to do anyway, Max nodded and walked into his room. He was messier than Simon and kicked a few pieces of dirty laundry away. He’d do them tomorrow. For now he stripped off his shirt, tossed it aside and flopped onto the bed, the thick comforter sighing under him as his weight pressed out some of the air.
“I desire control,” Simon said, coming into the room and standing next to his bed. Max looked up at him, unused to having someone else in his room.
“What are you doing in here?” Max asked, barely able to keep his eyes open as his head sunk into his fluffy pillows.
His eyes shot open as Simon’s fingers grazed Max’s chest, trailing over his sternum and down his ribs. Max couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe, as Simon’s fingers tickled his stomach and circled his navel.
“As I was saying,” Simon said, his voice soft in the near darkness. “I want control.”
Max gulped, watching him in the moonlight streaming in from his open curtains. “Of what?”
His mouth turned up into a smile and Max froze, both dreading and needing the answer all at once. “Why, Max, that’s simple.” He took a breath. “I want to control…you.”
Max shook his head. “Crazy, psychopathic, lunatic—” His words became muffled as Simon leaned down on and captured Max’s lips with his own. His hands tightened in the sheets, afraid to touch him, though he desperately wanted to know how the thick muscles of Simon’s shoulders that he’d been dreaming about would feel under his hands. He bet Simon was warm, that his muscles were hard, that he—
He frowned as Simon pulled back. “You stopped,” he grumbled.
“Oh? Did you want me to continue?” he replied, smirking.
Max bit his lip. He couldn’t admit that. Not out loud. So he nodded. He wanted Simon to kiss him again. To bring his beautiful mouth back down so that Max could kiss him again. And then he wanted so much more than that, too. Though the kissing had been damn nice.
ServingSimon Page 1
