Ghost Train

by L. M. Somerton

  “Probably a good thing.” Laura grinned. “I don’t recommend that tripping over corpses becomes a regular habit.” She moved away, already punching a number into her mobile.

  “Nor do I.” There was a hint of reprimand in Clem’s tone that suggested he would not be best pleased if Garth got himself into any more dangerous situations. Garth rolled his eyes. Clem didn’t own him, nor was he responsible for Garth’s safety, though from the tension in his stance and the set of his shoulders, Clem had stepped into the role of protector with accustomed ease.

  Garth decided it was time to show some backbone.

  “It’s not like I intended to find a body.”

  “No. You just heard a suspicious noise then went into a pitch-black shed alone. Even though you knew I was coming to meet you. You have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.” Clem glowered. It crossed Garth’s mind that Clem was even sexier when he was mad.

  “So you’ll have to punish me.” He glanced at Clem through his lashes.

  Clem sighed. “You need it, that’s for sure, but I think adrenaline is interfering with your thought processes, because your brain-to-mouth filter is blocked.” He held out a hand. Garth examined the offering. There was a scar at the base of Clem’s thumb and a red ink stain on his index finger. The hand seemed strong. Capable. Safe. A good home for Garth’s smaller, paler version…which was already nestling in Clem’s warm grip. Garth stared at his own appendage as if it were an alien being. He didn’t recall reaching for Clem’s hand, yet he was being pulled to his feet and led away from the chaos of a crime scene. ‘Surreal’ didn’t begin to describe it.

  After fetching Garth’s belongings, Clem held his hand all the way to the gate then down the street to where his van was parked. It crossed Garth’s fuddled mind that he’d left his bike behind, which meant a long hike the following day.

  “Bike.” He tugged at Clem’s sleeve like a toddler.

  “Forget it. It’s your day off tomorrow, remember? And besides, how many times have you ridden it this week? It spends more time in my van than it does on the road.”

  Garth tried to straighten his thoughts into a semblance of order.

  “And our date still stands. I’ll bring you into work after that.” Clem had all the answers before Garth even asked the questions. When Clem opened the van door for him, he scrambled inside without a word.

  “Rest. Close your eyes. You’re safe.”

  At that moment, obedience didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Garth’s eyes drifted shut and the next thing he knew, Clem was giving his shoulder a gentle shake.

  “We’re home.”

  The night air was a shock after the warmth of the van. It took Garth a moment to realize he didn’t know where he was.

  “This isn’t where I live.”

  “And this is why you’re some physics genius.” Clem shook his head. “We’re at my place. I have everything you need for tonight.”

  “Your clothes won’t fit me,” Garth said.

  “No…they won’t.”

  “You’re smirking.” Garth managed a scowl.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Garth worked out that they had come up a drive and parked in front of a triple garage. There were no other properties in sight and solar lamps cast a warm glow on neat, landscaped gardens. At the front door, Clem used some kind of remote device to disable an alarm system before using his key. Garth stumbled up the single step, his legs not behaving in the way they should. Clem caught him before he fell, then supported his weight with an arm around Garth’s waist.

  “Bed for you, sunshine. You’re dead on your feet.”

  The phrase made Garth’s nausea return.

  “Sorry, bad choice of words.” Clem pressed the backs of his fingers to Garth’s cheek. “Cold. You’re in shock.”

  “’m fine,” Garth mumbled. “I’d really like to take a shower though. Feel dirty.” He shrugged off his jacket.

  “Sure.” Ignoring the discarded garment, Clem pushed the front door shut with his arse and kept hold of Garth. He wrangled him along a wide corridor then into a spacious bedroom. “This is the guest suite. There’s a bathroom through here.” He led Garth to a door on the far side of the room.

  Garth stared at it for a while. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him, but his brain wasn’t working as it should. He could still recall molecular physics equations, but the function of a bathroom was beyond him. Clem gave him a nudge.

  “You need a hand?”

  Garth shook his head, unwilling to admit that he did. He took a few paces and found himself in a cool, tiled space. The walk-in shower looked inviting, but the chrome dials were far too complicated. To his utter relief and chagrin, Clem took over. Soon, hot water cascaded into the cubicle, beating a steady rhythm against the porcelain. Garth’s arms lifted, attached to invisible strings, as Clem pulled his shirt over his head.

  “Boots off.”

  Clear instructions helped. Garth dropped to the floor to remove his footwear and socks. When he was done, Clem hauled him back to his feet.

  “Unless you want to shower in the zip-fest that passes for your trousers, you’ll need to take those off too.” When Garth failed to move, Clem took matters into his own hands. Soon a pile of black denim pooled around Garth’s ankles. He stepped clear, awarding himself several gold stars for not falling over. He spotted an intriguing gleam in Clem’s eyes. Fascinated, Garth rolled his underwear clear of his hips and held Clem’s gaze. Clem licked his lips even though his eye contact didn’t waver. He made no attempt to view the skin Garth had uncovered.

  “Like what you see?” Garth was half-curious, half-irritated.

  “I see a traumatized young man whose mouth is still not connected to his brain. That gets you a pass. For now. Don’t think it’ll continue.”

  Garth gasped as a sharp smack connected with bare flesh.

  “Shower, then sleep.” Clem exited the room, leaving the door ajar. Garth stepped beneath the spray, rubbing his abused behind. The small hurt improved his focus and he couldn’t help but wonder what a proper spanking might feel like—not just with Clem’s hand but with a crop or a paddle, preferably when Garth was tied down and helpless. Operating on automatic pilot, he washed the smell of fear from his body, enjoying the heat as it soaked into his tense muscles. He turned off the spray then stepped from the cubicle, reaching for a towel hanging on a hook behind the door. He had no clean clothes and there was no sign of a robe, so he fastened the towel around his hips as best he could then went in search of Clem. He didn’t have to go far because Clem was waiting in the guest room, sitting on the bed, propped up against the pillows.

  “I threw your clothes into the washing machine.”

  “Um… Thanks?”

  “You’re hurt.” Clem swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I kind of forgot. I got a few scrapes when I fell over the body.” Garth wandered across to take a look in the mirror. His reflection showed him that one knee was grazed and the red patch on his shoulder was working its way up to become a bruise. His hands were a bit scraped from where he’d tried to save himself, but that was it. He’d had much worse from coming off his skateboard in his teens. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Clem pressed close behind him, his hands on Garth’s hips just above the towel. Garth was very aware of his state of undress. The flick of a finger and he’d be naked. His cock jerked.

  Clem stroked a single finger across Garth’s shoulder and down his arm. “Not too much damage from what I can tell, but the only marks on your skin should come from me.”

  “I…”

  “All you have to do right now is what I say, Garth. You need to sleep. Everything will be clearer in the morning.” He gave Garth’s butt a gentle pat before moving toward the door.

  “Are we still going to have a date tomorrow?” Garth asked.

  “Absolutely. I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Clem gri
nned. “Sleep well.” He left the room and closed the door with a click. Even that slight sound made Garth jump.

  He scuttled into bed, dropping the towel on his way. The covers were soft and the cool sheets soon warmed. Garth hid beneath them, feeling like he had years before after watching illicit horror movies with his friends. He closed his eyes but couldn’t shake images of the dead body and the monster he thought he’d seen. Blood, flashing blades and sightless eyes merged to form a horrific tableau in his head. He did his best to picture a fat, woolly sheep instead then counted it and the rest of the flock as they bounced over a low fence. It didn’t matter that he’d never seen a sheep attempt to cross a boundary of any kind—the childhood ritual was comforting. The monotony dulled the feverish meanderings of his brain and he drifted into sleep.

  “Garth. Hey, wake up.”

  Garth sat bolt upright, a scream on his lips. Someone held him in a strong grip and for a moment he fought the hold, desperate to get away from his nightmares.

  “It was a bad dream. You’re safe. It’s not real.”

  “Clem?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. You’re in my guest room, remember?”

  “Sure… I… Something was chasing me, no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get away. I was pelting down a dark corridor and it got narrower and narrower like something out of Alice in fucking Wonderland. I couldn’t run any faster. My heart was pounding and I knew I wasn’t going to get away.” Garth gasped for breath as if he really had been running, but relaxed in the safety of Clem’s arms.

  “You want me to stay?”

  “No… I…” Garth didn’t want Clem thinking he was a pathetic wuss who couldn’t handle sleeping alone.

  “Let’s make an agreement right now that you never lie to me again, okay? You’re not good at it.” Clem shoved him down onto the bed. “And I can be very creative when it comes to thinking up punishments for disobedient subs.”

  “I’m not your submissive.”

  “And that was another lie.”

  Clem’s weight pressed Garth into the mattress. Garth felt obliged to struggle a little bit, if only to let Clem know that he wasn’t a pushover. Clem moved to one side and made himself comfortable. He dragged Garth close so that Garth’s backside nestled against Clem’s groin and it was at that point Garth remembered he was naked. Clem was shirtless but had some kind of pajama bottoms on, because there was a thin layer of fabric between his stiff cock and Garth’s skin. It wasn’t much of a barrier and Garth pushed back, craving closer contact. Clem slung one arm around Garth’s waist and curled his fingers around Garth’s burgeoning erection.

  “Go to sleep.”

  In the darkness, Garth rolled his eyes. Right, like that’s going to happen now. He sighed, but his lips curved into a smile. Clem wanted a submissive. Clem wanted him.

  Chapter Three

  There was something about being held tight that kept the nightmares away. Garth slept hard for what remained of the night but woke feeling like a wrung-out rag. A slight shift in position and his shoulder reminded him that he hadn’t escaped the previous day’s adventures unscathed. He drew in a sharp breath, waiting for the throb to subside. He had rolled over in the night and now lay on his stomach, a heavy weight across his back holding him down. Garth attempted to move from beneath the tree that had apparently fallen on him sometime during the hours of darkness.

  “You wriggle like a newborn pup. Keep still.”

  “Clem?” Memories of the previous night flooded back, swallowing Garth in a tsunami of doubt, elation and arousal.

  “I damn well hope you weren’t expecting to find anyone else in bed with you.”

  “I need the bathroom,” Garth muttered, when what he wanted was five minutes alone to consider his situation.

  “You don’t need my permission to pee, boy.”

  “Can’t move. Your arm…”

  “Oh. My bad.” Clem shifted his weight. “Guess I wanted to make sure you stayed put.” Clem chuckled.

  Garth made his escape to the en suite with some relief then stretched out the duration of his trip with superfluous face-washing. His shoulder was tender and shrugging would be out of the question for a while, but his other scrapes had healed over. His reflection in the bathroom mirror showed him dark circles beneath his eyes, and a dusting of stubble.

  “Christ, I’ve seen more attractive corpses.” He swallowed, immediately regretting the thought. He peeked around the bathroom door, but the bed was empty and the curtains pulled back enough to let a sliver of light through. Diving beneath the sheets felt like a small victory. His clothes were nowhere to be seen and nor was the towel he’d discarded the previous evening. Clem had said he wouldn’t need clothes. Garth was beginning to wonder if Clem meant for him to wander around bare-arse naked. He swallowed. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He spotted a robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door, but he was too late to grab it.

  “Coffee.” Clem shouldered the door open then slipped past it, his hands occupied with two blue-striped mugs.

  Garth scented the air like a bloodhound, picking up the subtle scent of an expensive blend. “Thank God. I don’t think I could have stayed if you were a fan of instant.”

  “Coffee snob, huh?”

  “I have no shame when it comes to caffeine,” Garth admitted, accepting the mug Clem handed him. “I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs. I think I’m allowed one vice.”

  “Oh, I think you’re allowed more than one.” Clem grinned, his eyes sparkling. Garth sipped his drink and admired the view of Clem’s bare, muscled chest with a certain amount of envy. No matter how much he worked out, he would never achieve the kind of definition Clem was blessed with. He wondered what it would be like to follow the lines of Clem’s abs with his tongue.

  “Garth?”

  “Shit. Sorry. Did you ask me something? I was kind of day-dreaming.” He shoved a lock of black hair out of his eyes.

  “You’re even more beautiful without the makeup, you know?”

  “I…” The heat in Garth’s cheeks burned. He didn’t know where to look until a finger beneath his chin tilted his head up.

  “Take a compliment when it’s given. There’s nothing wrong with me telling you I find you attractive, but then you must have worked that out already.”

  His coffee finished, Garth could no longer hide in the activity of lifting and lowering his mug.

  “I like you too,” he whispered. “Oh my God, that was lame.”

  Clem extracted the mug from his clenched fingers. “You don’t have much experience, do you?”

  Garth sighed. “No. Not much.”

  “What about knowledge of the lifestyle? You know I’m a Dom.”

  “Some. Stevie, Adam, Zach and I have visited a club in London a few times—they hold open evenings every now and again. We couldn’t afford it otherwise, but they hold introductory demonstrations and you can talk to people who know what they’re doing.”

  “The Underground?”

  “Yes! Do you know it?”

  “I’m a member. It’s a safe place with good people.”

  “Adam always keeps an eye out for the rest of us—he’s a Dom. Stevie and Zach are more like me, though we’re all very different. Into different things, you know?”

  “I’ve come to learn over the years that there’s no such thing as a certain type of man who’s dominant, or submissive. The lifestyle attracts a huge spectrum of people.”

  Garth drew his knees up, making sure to keep them covered by the sheet. “I like my partner to take charge. I like…I mean…”

  “Nothing you can tell me is going to shock me, Garth.” Clem was calm, his expression kind and understanding. “Perhaps it’ll help if I tell you what I like first?”

  Garth nodded.

  “For me, dominance is a lifestyle, not a hobby. I don’t play at it—it’s part of who I am. I like to be in control both in the bedroom and out of it. I have the final say and expect my partner to respect that. Don’t get me wro
ng—I’m not a dictator. I want a man with a mind of his own who can have an intelligent debate. But any sub of mine gives up control to me.”

  Garth nodded. Beneath the sheets, his cock had perked into action. Clem’s absolute certainty was a huge turn-on.

  “I enjoy bondage. I have some experience as a rigger, but I like the heavy stuff. Leather and chains that leave marks. I want you helpless and begging. I have a fondness for chastity, edge play and toys. I’ll keep you stuffed full and bound while I torment you, whip you and push you to the edge of what you think you can take.”

  Clem seemed not to have noticed that he’d started personalizing his words to Garth, but Garth had. His breathing sped up and his pulse fluttered—he could feel it beneath the pressure of his fingers.

  “Hey.” Clem patted Garth’s clasped hands where they rested on his knees. “I’m not scaring you, am I?”

  “Only by how much you’re turning me on,” Garth muttered under his breath. “You don’t hold back, do you?”

  “Life’s too short. I’d rather you know up front what you’re getting into with me. I prefer to avoid misunderstandings. When I bring out a set of iron shackles, I want screams of delight, not terror.”

  Garth giggled. “I can see how that might be…difficult. I hope you’re not speaking from experience?”

  “Risk mitigation is part of my job—it’s a useful skill outside of work, too.”

  “And what exactly is it that you do? You were in charge last night. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that you’re not just the IT guy.” In the space of a heartbeat, Garth flipped from fantasy land to the reality of sudden, violent death. He shivered.

  “You’re right. I’m not.” Clem was silent for a few seconds as if deciding how much to say. “I can’t tell you everything yet. I work for a private security company called Veritas. We support various law enforcement agencies around the world when they need skills that aren’t readily available to them.”

  “And you’re working on some kind of operation that involves the amusement park. I saw you talking to Adam…if I put two and two together, I get the kind of answer that usually results in nuclear fission.”