“If you have someone who saw you off, you can leave the jewelry with them, then come back through.”
Well, Ian had his bags, so that wasn’t a bad idea. He nodded, then glanced over at Ian. “Can you grab my phone out of the pocket and call and see if Justina’s still here?”
Ian scowled, but nodded.
Shawn winked at the agent. “I’ll be right back.”
Jogging back to the lobby, Shawn smiled as Justina ran up to him, gasping in air.
She was still on her phone. “Yes, I found him. I agree, he’s completely insane. It’s sexy as hell though.” Her cheeks were rosy red as she stared at his chest then at a group of teenage girls that were making catcalls. “Where is your shirt?”
“Left it with the sexy agent.” Shawn lifted Justina up in his arms, giving her a deep, hungry kiss. “I regret nothing.”
“I can tell.” She gave his bare chest a playful slap when he set her down. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Never let me go.”
“Right now, I have to, goof.” Justina held out her hand. “Give me.”
He dropped the loops in her palm, dipping down to give her another kiss. “If I tell you I love you, will you smack me again?”
Her lips parted. She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “Don’t play with me, Shawn. Don’t say that before you have to take off. Why would you say that?”
“Because I…” Fuck, she was right. He sighed, the burst of energy that had flooded him fading away. He wasn’t trying to play her. He wasn’t saying meaningless words, but he couldn’t prove they were true when he wasn’t around. “I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me. You’re so perfect, and I couldn’t help myself.”
She shook her head again, cupping his cheek. “I like you. A lot. I can see myself falling for you, because you turn my brain to mush. Now go. The man I lo—like doesn’t ditch his team.”
“I heard that.” The rush was back. He didn’t need time or space to accept how he felt. Yes, there were details to iron out, but the exchange between she and Ian had him more than willing to explore all the possibilities. To find a way to take everything he wanted. “Tell Ian I love him too, and I’ll be right there.”
“Shawn!” Justina laughed, waving at him as he sprinted back to the TSA line.
The agent brought him his shirt and he passed through with no further issues. Ian was the only one waiting for him when he reached the terminal, and he was still on the phone with Justina.
“What makes you think I can get him to keep his clothes on?” Ian threw his shoulders back and laughed. “Yes, I guess I can do that.”
“Do what?” Shawn arched a brow at Ian, curious about how he and Justina were conspiring against him.
Ian made a dismissive motion, quickening his pace to catch up to the rest of the team.
“That’s pure evil, Justina. Yes, I’ll do it anyway, but you’re so bad.”
Now I’m worried. His girl was crafty. He might pay for his little performance at TSA.
“Yep, he’s listening. I think we’re freaking him out.” Ian smirked at Shawn. “Thanks. You too, sweetie.”
After Ian hung up, they weren’t left with any time for Shawn to interrogate the man. Or call Justina back. But as soon as they sat down, Shawn turned in his seat and gave Ian a hard look.
“Talk.”
“Okay.” Ian folded his arms behind him, more at ease before a flight than Shawn had ever seen him. He was nice and distracted. “You know those comics she was talking about? ElfQuest? Well, I think the elves are hot. I need to go to ComicCon one day and see the people that dress up, because—”
“You know very well that’s not what I mean.”
“Not sure what you do mean?” Ian’s lips slanted. “You said talk. I’m talking.”
Anyone who thought subs were all meek and obeyed every command needed their heads checked. Of course, Shawn would get bored with a sub who didn’t challenge him a little. Being easy was his job.
He folded his arms over his chest, trying his best to look stern. “I mean what are you two planning?”
“Absolutely nothing. She wanted to tease you after you said ‘Do what?’, so I played along.” Ian stiffened and lifted his hands to the armrests as the plane started moving. “Fuck.”
“You forgot your pillow.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Yes, you do.” Shawn thought back, sure he’d seen the pillow with Ian’s carryon stuff. He started to stand. “Did you put it in the overhead bin?”
Pressing his eyes shut, Ian nodded.
The flight attendant came over as Shawn tried to open the bin. “Excuse me, sir, but you need to take your seat and keep your seatbelt on.”
“I will, I just have to get something.” Damn it, the pillow was stuffed behind both his and Ian’s bags. Where the hell was his head at? He usually checked everything for Ian before they left the runway.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to take your seat.” The flight attendant’s tone was stern. She pulled down the bin door, pausing just long enough for him to move his hand. “Any belongings can be retrieved once we’ve reached cruising altitude.”
“But—”
“Shawn, I’m fine.” Ian grabbed his wrist, pulling him back to his seat. “Thank you for trying, but I need to deal. Team therapist said so.”
Snapping his seatbelt in place, Shawn turned to Ian. “You’re seeing the team therapist?”
“It was that or a ‘real’ one. I’ve only gone a few times.”
“And he told you to ‘deal’?” Shawn was going to find the asshole and hurt him. What the actual fuck?
Ian’s jaw moved, like he was grinding his teeth, as the plane sped down the runway. “No. He said I should try to fly without so many comfort items. The pillow. A movie. You.”
“Me?”
“Not specifically you, but anyone who lets me avoid facing my fears.” As the plane left the ground, Ian grabbed for his seatbelt. “I’m going to be sick.”
The team therapist was going to get his ass handed to him. Who the hell did he think he was? Ian’s issues with flying weren’t something that he could be forced to ‘face’ so carelessly. That he got on a plane, or in a car, at all took a lot of strength. He couldn’t do underground tunnels or subways either. Would the ‘therapist’ tell him to head on down and ‘face’ it without delving into the reasons for his fears?
Just wait, asshole. Shawn took Ian’s hand, holding it tight as he fought to keep his features relaxed. You’re fucking done here.
Stroking the back of Ian’s hand with his thumb, Shawn spoke softly. “You can’t get up now, Ian. Grab the puke bag if you’re going to be sick, and listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“I know you. You want to be tough, but you already are. You’ve dealt with some hard blows, and they’ve left a few scars. And that’s okay.” Shawn inhaled roughly, not sure he’d ever get used to seeing Ian like this. He wanted to shield Ian from all his fears, and he couldn’t. Since Tim’s death, many of them had gotten worse. And he couldn’t fix this for him. “I’m right here. Let me be your safe place. The place where you can hide from all your fears. All the memories that haunt you.”
Ian groaned as the altitude continued changing and the plane jolted a little. “I don’t even know why flying freaks me out. It’s just…it’s a small space. We’re stuck in here if anything happens. There’s no…there’s no way to escape.”
Just like a mineshaft. To Shawn, the comparisons were obvious, but cementing the image in Ian’s head wouldn’t help him now. He hadn’t made the connection, but a good therapist would. Obviously not the one that worked for the team.
“You told me once that Madeline made flying a bit easier. She told you how she was scared to fly at first. Do you remember?” Shawn continued to run his thumb over the back of Ian’s hand. Over his knuckles. “She learned how rarely planes go down, and exactly how to be prepared if they do. Being prepared helped her get over her fears
.”
Throat working as he swallowed, Ian nodded. “I miss her too.”
“I know. And so do I. She was an amazing woman.” Shawn rubbed Ian’s forearm, hoping he hadn’t just made things worse. “But the tools she gave you are what’s gotten you through hundreds of flights. Even though you can’t quite shake how much you hate flying, she made it easier.”
“She fixed my pillow.”
“She did. And I’ll get it for you as soon as I can.” Shawn fought to keep his tone level. Something about Ian’s behavior was like subdrop. Like he’d been pushed too far and had been left off balance. He’d been good after talking to Justina, but there was still a vulnerable edge that a good Dom would watch for. Only, Ian hadn’t played recently, so it must be the phone call. Or maybe seeing Sam sign over her baby.
Either way, Ian was with Shawn, and Shawn would make him feel solid again. Secure.
Safe.
“Tell me something that I don’t know.” Shawn pressed his fingertips into Ian’s palm to center him. “Anything.”
Ian’s lips curved. “Iron Man is a better hero than Captain America.”
“Maybe, but Captain America is prettier.”
Blinking, Ian turned his head to stare at Shawn. “Dude, he ain’t pretty.”
“He is. And so is Thor.”
“You’re so weird.” Ian looked down at their clasped hands. “And I’m so fucked up.”
“Because you’re into me?” Shawn wouldn’t take it personally. They’d already discussed this.
Shifting in his seat, Ian held Shawn’s gaze, something in his eyes telling Shawn he was very wrong about what he’d assumed. Ian opened his mouth, looking angry at first. Then all the fire sparking in his eyes lost its heat.
He let out a heavy sigh. “No, but I get why you’d think that. I’m fucked up because I’m in over my head. I want to be there for Sam, but I’m making a mess of it. She was so frustrated today, she hated that I had to leave, and she’s trying to adapt to this ‘open’ thing. I’m not sure it’s working out so well.”
A shallow pool of dread filled Shawn, but he schooled his expression, refusing to let it show. “Would it be easier if we went back to being just friends?”
“Maybe, but I don’t want ea—” The edge of Ian’s lips slanted up slightly. “Actually, in this case, I do want ‘Easy’.”
“Oh yeah?” Shawn’s lips slid into a sly smile, all his uncertainties banished to the dark corners of his mind, where he could deal with them later. Ian was in a better place. Shawn didn’t have to let him go yet. Anything else could wait. “Care to visit the mile high club again?”
“The mile…?” Ian pressed his tongue against his bottom lip, his cheeks growing red. “Oh. Umm… Damn it, that’s tempting. But I need…I need more tonight, Shawn. I’m not even sure what, but all the light stuff? It’s just not cutting it.”
Those words brought more relief than disappointment. He’d refused to even consider that Sam might have tried out her feeble new ‘Domme’ skills on Ian without Chicklet there to supervise, but it had been a possibility. So far, it seemed to be more of an irritating tease than anything.
“Is there anything that you’ve done that you enjoy?” Shawn kept his tone casual, so Ian wouldn’t feel pressured. “That you’d like to experience fully?”
Ian freed his hand gently and rubbed his thighs, dropping his gaze to the floor between them. “I need something real. Something that doesn’t leave me feeling empty.”
Real had never been something Shawn could offer before, but he’d come to terms with the fact that things between him and Ian would never be anything less. He didn’t have to worry about hurting the man. He’d given him all the power in how long their relationship would last.
He nodded slowly. “I can do that for you, Ian.”
Easing back into his chair, eyes closed, Ian let out a heavy sigh. “She said to tell you ‘You’re welcome’. And I’ve tried over and over to figure it out, but I can’t.”
A cold chill trailed down Shawn’s spine. The flight attendant let them know it was safe to leave their seats, take out their laptops, or move about the cabin. He stood, pulled both his and Ian’s bags out so he could grab the pillow. After storing their things, he nudged Ian, who smiled sleepily before propping the pillow against the window to rest his head.
Shawn inhaled deep, let it out slow, and waited until he knew his tone would be completely level before he spoke. “When did she say that, Bruiser?”
Without lifting his head, Ian snorted. “Before the cold shower.”
“Were you expecting…?”
“Her to finish? I don’t know. I guess…I shouldn’t have? She doesn’t owe me anything.” Ian lifted his shoulders. “But when she said that, I guess…I wondered if it was some weird punishment. She didn’t seem mad. And, like…well, when you’re mentioned, she’s fine with it. Unless I’m reading her wrong. Which I probably am.”
Yeah, there was no way a straightforward, honest man like Ian could even begin to understand the game Sam was playing. Shawn wasn’t sure he did. It sounded like she’d explored edging with Ian, but Chicklet wouldn’t have suggested that. Not so early in their relationship. They were still getting to know one another. Learning to trust each other with their desires, with their needs.
If Sam had done that soon after Ian spoke to his grandmother?
Damn it, that girl…
“Why you growling, man?” Ian sat forward, his eyes open now. “Something wrong?”
“No-pe.” Shawn reached out, gently freeing Ian’s hair from the tight binding. “Take a nap. You’re gonna need plenty of energy for what I’ve got planned.”
You want to leave him for me to take care of, sweetie? That’s fine. Shawn idly smoothed Ian’s hair as the man settled back down, his cheeks a little red at the implication, but a sleepy smile on his lips. You might not get him back.
Chapter 31
Hours later, Ian was finally able to take his stupid jacket and tie off and relax in the hotel room. Shawn’s hotel room. He had his own, but going to it hadn’t even occurred to him. He plunked down on Shawn’s bed, flicking on the TV.
“Turn it off, Bärchen.” Shawn strode across the room, removing his own jacket and tie. He hung up the jacket, but kept the steel gray tie in his hand. He eyed Ian’s jacket, which was lying on the floor. But he didn’t speak until Ian turned the TV off. “Knowing you as well as I do, that’s likely the only jacket you brought. Is that where it belongs?”
Shaking his head, Ian pushed off the bed and bent to retrieve his jacket. For some reason, the subtle change in the air between him and Shawn gave him a heady rush. He didn’t really care about the jacket, but he wanted Shawn happy with him.
“Good.” Shawn smiled as Ian hung his jacket carefully in the closet. “Now give me your tie and strip.”
Ian’s mouth went dry, but he didn’t hesitate to hand over the length of dark blue linen. A tie Shawn had picked out for him.
Shawn held both ties in one hand then motioned Ian to continue.
Hands shaking as a surge of lust spilled through him, Ian undid the buttons of his white dress shirt. He was still near the closet, so he grabbed a hanger, hoping that taking care of his shit would please Shawn.
A smile curved Shawn’s lips. “You learn fast, Ian.”
Pride swelled in Ian’s chest. Damn, maybe he wasn’t that stupid after all. Shawn always did that for him. Even if, in his own head, he was calling himself an idiot, Shawn seemed to read his mind and say or do something to banish the self-hate. Which was fucking cool.
After folding his pants in half and clipping them awkwardly to another hanger, Ian hooked his thumbs into his black boxer briefs, goosebumps rising all over as he considered what would happen next. He wouldn’t be thinking for long, he knew that. Shawn would take him out of his head. Send him to that zone where all he felt was pleasure.
Where he and the man he loved were the only two people on earth and nothing else mattered.
&n
bsp; He slipped off his boxers and tossed them aside.
“Lie down, Ian.”
Moving to the bed, Ian climbed onto it, laying on his back and relaxing into the cool, smooth comforter. Shawn took hold of both his wrists, bound them together, then used the other tie to restrain Ian to one of the thin wooden planks on the headboard.
“This wood isn’t strong, so don’t tug hard.” Shawn’s tone had taken on the lulling quality that always eased Ian into a peaceful place. “What’s your safeword, Bruiser?”
Bruiser. Strangely enough, the nickname made Ian feel like Shawn was saying ‘I know you’re tough, but now’s not the time to be.’
And he was fine with that. He didn’t want to pretend anything. If something was off, he’d speak up. But he doubted he’d have to.
He inhaled slowly. “Ultron.”
Shawn arched a brow. “Really? I thought you liked him.”
“Oh, he’s cool, but bad news, you know?” Ian’s cheeks heated. Was that a silly safeword? Maybe he should have chosen a vegetable. “Is onion better?”
Chuckling, Shawn shook his head. “No. Ultron is totally you. And if you make it onion, and start shouting other vegetables in the heat of the moment, I might misinterpret.”
All right, Ian wasn’t sure what other message Shawn would get if he shouted out something like…cucumber? Either way, best not to chance it.
“Ultron then.” Ian tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth, testing the binding on his wrists. “You think I’m gonna need to use it?”
“No. But you may come close.” Shawn gave him one of those ball-tightening, evil smiles of his. “I’m going to cover your eyes. And you will be silent unless asked a question. Understand?”
His pulse stuttered, and a cold sweat covered his whole body. Shawn’s gaze slid over him, from his face, to his chest, rising and falling, faster and faster with each breath, to his pulsing erection.
He needed everything Shawn would give him. No matter how fucked up. He wanted it all. So he nodded. “Yes.”
Line Brawl: The Dartmouth Cobras #8 Page 36
