Guarded

by L. A. Witt

  In another lifetime, I might’ve been afraid my postage stamp apartment wouldn’t be able to contain his presence, but today, he was still wound up from seeing Daniel. Still tense, almost folding in on himself, and the six hundred square feet around us threatened to swallow him up.

  It hadn’t really occurred to me until right then, not until after we’d already stepped inside and closed the door, but bringing him here was… unsettling. Like we were crossing a line we’d never actually drawn.

  He turned to me, eyebrows up. “You said you have quite a… collection?”

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “This way.” I led him across the tiny living room to my bedroom. Because that wasn’t weirder than just having him in my apartment to begin with. Ignoring the fact that my bed even existed, I went straight to the closet.

  One of the big selling points of this apartment was that in spite of the lack of overall square footage, it had a walk-in closet. With all the things I liked to have within easy reach, that alone was worth half my rent.

  I opened the closet door and gestured for him to follow me into it. He lingered in the doorway while I went in to turn on the light.

  Behind me, Jordan pulled in a long breath through his nose. I swore I felt him shiver.

  Like the smell of leather, don’t you?

  “Well.” I tugged the string hanging from the middle of the ceiling, and the single bulb came to life. “Here it is.”

  Jordan’s breath hitched slightly. I fought a grin as I watched him. His lips parted a little, and his eyes were wide as he came farther in. He scanned everything on the shelves and the racks I’d installed along two walls. Floggers. A pair of singletails. A long bamboo cane with a well-worn handle.

  He furrowed his brow at the spreader bars. It was entirely possible he’d never seen one before, but he didn’t seem put off by them. Just curious.

  He ran his fingers through the tails of a flogger that had pointed metal studs fastened on each end, and when the studs rattled against each other, goose bumps sprang up along his forearm.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  He jumped as if he’d forgotten I was even there, and his eyes flicked toward me. “It’s an impressive collection.”

  I chuckled. “I like to mix things up sometimes.”

  “So I see,” he said, continuing to scan the shelves. Abruptly, his gaze stopped at one shelf, and suppressing my grin was nearly impossible.

  Yes, Jordan, those boots are mine.

  Yes, you’d better believe they’re polished by hand.

  And yes, you will be polishing them if you play your cards right.

  He gulped and faced me again. “I don’t think I’d know where to start.”

  “It’s okay.” I reached across the narrow space between us and trailed the backs of my fingers down his cheek. “You won’t be the one deciding where we start.”

  Closing his eyes, he shivered, pressing his cheek against my hand.

  “You want to try some of this, don’t you?” I whispered.

  Jordan nodded, his lightly stubbled jaw scuffing across my fingers. “I do.”

  “Good.”

  His eyes opened, and something in him shifted. The arousal and curiosity were still there, but the way he held my gaze was… not quite right.

  Still touching his face, I said, “What’s wrong?”

  Jordan chewed his lip. His gaze swept across one shelf. Then another. Then locked on mine again. “Why are you doing this?”

  “What?” I cocked my head. “Doing what?”

  “All of… everything.” He broke eye contact, but didn’t pull away from my touch. “Listen, I know when we started this, I said I couldn’t give much back. I’m just…my head’s not in a good place for relationships, especially balanced ones.” He met my eyes. “But there has to be some give and take, you know?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  He swallowed. “So what exactly are you getting out of this?”

  I shrugged. “Power.” It came out so blasé and matter-of-fact, I barely smothered a laugh. “Having someone surrender completely and submit to me.”

  Jordan’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You never pinged me as the kind of guy who gets off on power.”

  I tilted my head. “Do I ping you as the kind who gets off on inflicting pain?”

  He gulped and glanced around the closet. “You… uh. No.”

  Grinning, I put my hand over his. “Then appearances can be deceiving, can’t they?”

  “I guess they can,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “But you can get that power and submission from people who are a lot more stable and giving than me.” Meeting my eyes again, he said, “Why me?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Jordan chewed his lip again, but didn’t speak.

  I tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear. “Listen, I don’t have any illusions about what this is. You’re not in a good space, and neither am I, so we’ll just take this train until the tracks run out.”

  He laughed softly, breaking eye contact. “Or it goes off the rails.”

  There is that.

  “We’ll be fine,” I said. “We both know what this is and what it isn’t, and maybe if this brings us both closer to being okay, then…”

  He looked at me again. “Then it won’t have been a waste of time?”

  Ouch…

  Forcing my voice to stay steady, I said, “I can’t imagine ever thinking this is a waste of time.”

  Jordan held my gaze for a long moment, and I wondered if he agreed.

  Then he reached up and touched my face. “Now that you mention it, no, it doesn’t feel like a waste of time.”

  I didn’t say a word. I just wrapped my arms around him and kissed him.

  It started out as a tender, reassuring kiss. Soft, lazy, lips moving together as perfectly as they had the very first time.

  But then I took in a breath through my nose.

  Holy fuck.

  Jordan’s familiar smell and the scents of leather and boot polish combined to make my head spin. God. All I needed right then was the distinctive smell of a newly extinguished candle, and I’d be a goner.

  Hell, who was I kidding? I was a goner. Jordan. Leather. So much potential to make him gasp. Scream. Cry.

  I grabbed his hair and jerked his head back. He moaned, and then gasped when I bent to kiss his neck.

  “This weekend,” I said against his neck, “I want to see you in leather pants.” I pressed my teeth in just hard enough to make him gasp again. “Same ones you wear when you perform. Got it?”

  “’kay.” He held onto my shoulders, gripping them tightly as if he was sure his shaking knees were going to drop out from under him.

  “You’re bringing condoms and lube too,” I growled.

  “Oh, fuck,” he whispered.

  “Got it?”

  “Yeah. Got… got it.”

  “You know why you’re bringing them, don’t you?”

  He tensed in my arms, and his rapid breathing halted for a second. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t understand me or if he thought it was a trick question.

  Still gripping his hair, I raised my head. “I asked you a question, Jordan.”

  He swept his tongue across his lips, staring back at me with wide eyes. “I…”

  I held his hair a bit tighter, my cock getting even harder when he closed his eyes and moaned. “Jordan. Answer the question.”

  He blinked a few times, struggling to hold my gaze. “The…”

  “Tell me why you’re bringing the condoms and lube this weekend.”

  “So you… so you can fuck me.” He released a long, ragged breath, and his eyes widened a little, though I couldn’t decide if he was hoping for confirmation that I was going to fuck him or approval that he’d answered correctly.

  “Yes. I’m going to fuck you.” I kissed him lightly. “I might not even be the only one
who fucks you.”

  He stared at me, lips apart and eyebrows up.

  “Would you like that? If I told another man to fuck you?”

  Without even hesitating, he nodded. Well, tried to. My iron fist in his hair kept him from moving much, but the gesture came across loud and clear.

  I grinned. “I am going to have so much fun with you this weekend.”

  Jordan just whimpered. Fucking hell, he was hot when he was turned on like this. Naked in bed and needing to be fucked was one thing. Reduced to helpless sounds and shaking knees in a room full of kinky toys, with the promise of God knew what kind of debauchery in a few days?

  Using the hand in his hair to steer him, I turned him toward the closet door, but pulled him back against me so I could whisper in his ear. “Good thing I have lube and condoms here right now, isn’t it?”

  He rubbed against me, his back against my chest and his ass against my dick. “Please…”

  I nipped the side of his neck and tightened my fist in his hair. “Please, what?”

  His hand materialized on my thigh. Not gripping, just touching. Like he needed some support. “Jase, please…”

  “You’ll have—”

  “Please fuck me, Jase.”

  I exhaled hard across his neck. “Strip and wait by the bed.” I let go of his hair and nudged him forward, but kept a hand near his shoulder in case he lost his balance.

  He faltered for a step, but recovered and headed for the bedroom, peeling off his shirt as he walked. I paused for a moment to take a breath and collect myself. At this rate, I was going to come before I even got the condom on.

  I took another deep breath, then stepped out. As ordered, Jordan was completely naked, standing beside my bed. His cock was fully hard, just begging to be stroked, sucked—

  Tortured.

  —or maybe even ridden.

  I wrapped an arm around his waist and my hand around his dick, and he gripped the front of my shirt as I kissed him. I’d barely even started stroking him before his hips started moving, thrusting into my hand. Part of me wanted to tease him and tell him he wasn’t allowed to move a muscle, but not tonight. Fuck foreplay. Foreplay was hanging on the walls inside my walk-in closet, waiting for this weekend when I could turn him into a quivering, pleading wreck. Just thinking about that was all the foreplay I needed for tonight, and I needed my cock in him before I lost my fucking mind.

  I turned him around and pushed him all the way down onto the bed. As I got on top of him, I shoved his legs apart with my knees, and he moaned into the pillow.

  “Don’t move.” I leaned down and nipped his shoulder. “Understood?”

  “Not moving.”

  “Good.” I grabbed a condom—not expired, thank fuck—and the lube out of the drawer beside the bed. Good thing he was on his stomach so he couldn’t see how badly I was fumbling with the simple tasks of opening a packet and rolling on a condom, not to mention getting the lube bottle open.

  Finally, the condom and lube were on. I put some lube on him, and then pushed his legs farther apart and guided myself to him. As I pressed against him, I hesitated. Maybe fingers first? I’d only fingered him enough to make sure he had enough lube, but was he—

  “Please, Jase,” he pleaded, kneading the pillow. He lifted his ass and pressed back, and to hell with it. He was as ready as I was.

  A little more pressure, and holy fuck, I was inside him. Didn’t matter how many times we’d fucked, how many times I’d pinned him down and made him hurt and damn near made him cry, this was hotter than hell. Just knowing he was willing and eager to submit to me this weekend, to take whatever I dished out even if that included pain and other men’s dicks, turned me on so much I could barely see straight.

  I worked myself all the way in and found a steady rhythm. At first I held myself up on my hands, but I wanted more contact with him, so I came down, letting my abs brush his back as every breath gave me a taste of his familiar scent.

  He pushed himself up onto his forearms and craned his neck, turning far enough to meet my lips over his shoulder. I slid a hand around the front of his throat, gripping it firmly but not enough to cut off his airway, and we made out as I moved inside him, and how I’d even lasted this long without coming was a mystery to me. I was so turned on, and he was so perfectly hitting every one of my kinks and buttons, and I was going to unravel completely if this went on much longer.

  Jordan broke the kiss, whimpering softly. He was so tight now, I could barely move, his entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm, and the sounds he made… Jesus, the sounds. Swearing quietly. Moaning. Almost sobbing as I fucked him deep and hard until he dropped onto the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress, the veins standing out from his arms like the cords stood out on his neck.

  Then he released a breath, and his whole body went limp. I slowed down, not wanting to hurt him now that he was probably hypersensitive, but kept riding him as my own orgasm closed in.

  I leaned down and kissed the back of his neck, his skin damp and salty. “I cannot wait to fuck you this weekend,” I said through gritted teeth. “With people watching. After I’ve… after…” My eyes rolled back as a shudder worked its way up my spine. “Fuck, Jordan, I cannot wait to cover you in welts.”

  He moaned again and turned his head. Just before our lips met, he whispered, “Promise?”

  And just like that, I came. I broke the kiss and forced my cock as deep inside him as he could take me, and bit down on his shoulder hard enough to make him yelp, and lost it. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, turning the world around me into blurry, silvery shards, and Jordan moved his hips just right—even pinned beneath me—to draw it out.

  Then I shuddered one last time, released my breath, and slumped over him. “Christ.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” he slurred.

  I kissed the back of his shoulder. “And yes, I promise.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Neither can I.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he shivered. I sure as fuck did.

  Maybe he hadn’t gotten anywhere near that euphoria that came with having his airway cut off, but he’d enjoyed this. And he was eager to try a few things this weekend. And maybe we could find something that was safer and did what it was he needed from having my hands around his throat.

  And maybe it made me an idiot, but lying with him like this, still inside him and panting from that amazing sex, I hoped to God this thing didn’t run out of tracks any time soon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jordan

  Robert’s house lay about ten miles down the highway, perched atop a cliff with what looked from the road like an amazing ocean view. Jase drove up to the front gate and rolled down the window. The guard recognized him on sight and waved us through.

  The driveway twisted up the hill, finally curving around a marble fountain in front of a sprawling two-story mansion. Spanish Mission-style architecture with arched doorways, cream colored walls, a bright red-tiled roof, plenty of palm trees and wide swaths of green grass.

  “Pretty fucking impressive,” I said as Jase rolled into an empty parking spot beside a sleek black Porsche. “Robert designed this too?”

  “Hell, yeah. In fact, I remember him showing me the property before construction started. Only he could look at a pile of rocks and brush and see... this.” He shook his head. “He’s a real artist. Like you.”

  I laughed. “All I do is strum a damn guitar. Nowhere near the level of someone who creates something like this.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “And don’t fucking underestimate yourself. I’ve heard your music.”

  He cupped my face, his thumb roving over my cheek. “You remember what I said about how I want you to behave?”

  I nodded, a shiver working its way into my bones.

  “Repeat it back to me.”

  “I’m, uh, to stay close to you unless you tell me otherwise. Stay silent unless you tell me otherwise. Do what you say without hesitation.”
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  “Even if that means servicing the other Dominants. You’re all right with that?”

  “I said I was, didn’t I?”

  “I want to hear you say it again.”

  I got what he was doing—reaffirming consent. Laying ground rules. None of which I’d ever had before. But if this was how he wanted to play, I was fine with it. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do.”

  “And our safeword is…?”

  “Violet.”

  “Good.” He slid his hand into my hair, grabbing a rough handful, and I immediately went limp. If there was one surefire way to put me in a submissive headspace, this was it. “You’re mine for tonight. Say it.”

  Fuck. Just the thought of saying those words made the crotch of those shiny silver leather pants he’d ordered me to wear grow impossibly tight. “I-I’m yours.”

  He kissed me hard, then let me go. Dammit. “Get my bag out of the trunk.”

  I obeyed while he put on the long leather coat he’d laid out in the backseat. It’d been in the eighties today, but it’d cooled off since sunset, the ocean breeze ruffling my hair. Still a bit too hot for leather, though—as the nervous sweat gluing my pants to me proved—but damn if Jase didn’t make me forget about all that for the minute or so I stood staring at him encased in sleek black lambskin, every fold of that gorgeous coat highlighting his tall, sturdy frame.

  We walked up to the door, past four or five other cars, including a late model silver Bentley. “I thought there’d be more guests,” I said.

  “Robert’s gatherings are usually pretty intimate. I figured fewer people would be easier for us to deal with our first time playing in public.”

  Other people would be watching us. It hadn’t really sunk in until now, standing here on Robert’s front porch. On the other side of that door was a group of people I’d never met before, and they’d be watching Jase beat me. Fuck me. Maybe even fuck me themselves…

  A shiver—no, a shudder—shook me. Jase’s fingertips tracing my spine through my thin white dress shirt didn’t help. “Having second thoughts?” he asked. “I haven’t rung the bell yet.”