"Yeah,” he said, surprised Ethan was asking.
Ethan moved quickly to the wardrobe and selected jeans, T-shirt, and sweater. Gabriel threw him some boxers out of the drawer. Then he set about blow-drying his hair, face turned away while Ethan dressed.
His hard-on started to diminish slightly. His jaw still ached. There was no doubting he had ever enjoyed giving a blow job as much as he had that morning. He berated himself. The intention had been not to get Ethan's rocks off but to get the gun away from him. He had failed in that endeavour as Ethan had said he would. Even in the throes of Ethan's orgasm, when Gabriel didn't doubt he could have snatched the gun from him, he hadn't tried. Why was that?
"Come on,” Ethan raised his voice impatiently over the hairdryer. Gabriel switched it off and combed his hair down a little before standing up. Ethan waved the gun at him, gesturing for him to leave. He seemed to have recovered his previous coldness. I just gave away that blow job for nothing, Gabriel thought angrily.
He moved down the stairs and into the kitchen. As soon as he entered, Ethan came up behind him and grabbed roughly at the cuff dangling from his wrist, dragging him to the radiator, forcing him down onto the floor and cuffing him there again. Gabriel stared at him as he moved over to the coffee machine and set it to brew, getting two cups off the stand. Of course he had not expected to end up chained to the radiator again after giving his captor a blow job, but then this was probably Ethan's way of enforcing the idea that it had meant nothing to him.
The coffee percolated in silence. As Gabriel watched, Ethan filled the two cups, splashed milk into them, and brought one over to Gabriel, setting it on the floor next to him. Gabriel, seething with rage, grabbed the cup and threw it across the kitchen after Ethan as he walked away, only succeeding in splashing the back of his legs before the mug shattered into pieces against the far wall.
"I'm not eating my breakfast on the floor like a fucking dog, you asshole!” he yelled at Ethan.
He saw the fury on Ethan's face as he turned and strode quickly to him, omnipresent gun in hand. He gripped Gabriel by the hair and yanked his head back hard, banging it against the sharp edge of the radiator so Gabriel moaned. Then, crouching over him, gun jammed into the sensitive flesh of his neck, he hissed:
"You fucked with me, Gabriel, and you lost. Now I swear to God, I don't want to hear another peep out of you today or so help me I will blow your fucking head off.” He let go of his hair abruptly and moved into the lounge, slamming the door behind him, leaving Gabriel on the kitchen floor.
He heard the TV come on, tuned into the rock music channel Gabriel always watched. The channel was changed. He heard the distinctive intro music of the local news program before the sound was abruptly switched down and he couldn't hear anything but a murmur. Ethan would probably be all over the news, Gabriel thought. He could bet the other was sitting watching his own face on the TV now with the sound turned down.
Ethan was in there twenty minutes before he came back. He walked past Gabriel without a word and moved to the fridge. As Gabriel watched him, he got out some milk and put it on the table. Then he took two bowls, a box of cereal, and two spoons before moving back to Gabriel.
Gabriel looked up at him as he leaned over him, uncuffing him. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Sit down.” Gabriel followed him silently to the table.
"You right- or left-handed?” Ethan asked.
You know the answer to that already, Gabriel thought. Didn't I hold your cock in my right hand? “Right,” he replied.
Ethan nodded, took the cuffs from Gabriel's right wrist, locked one around his left, and cuffed his hand to the table leg. Gabriel sighed. He reached for the cereal box as Ethan moved over to the sink and started searching beneath it for something. As he watched, to his surprise, Ethan drew out a brush and dustpan and started to sweep up the broken cup. He then found a cloth and sponged the coffee off the wall and the floor.
Gabriel did not speak, and averted his eyes when Ethan glanced his way. He had finished his cereal by the time Ethan joined him at the table, bringing some orange juice and two glasses with him. Silently Gabriel poured them both a drink.
"I saw the weather,” Ethan spoke. “We're snowed in."
"Is that so?” Gabriel murmured, hardly surprised by this news.
Ethan nodded, mouth full of cereal. “As soon as it thaws a little, I'm out of here,” he said.
"Okay,” Gabriel replied.
"I'll want to take your car,” Ethan said, as though Gabriel had a choice.
"Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Were you on the news?” He couldn't stop himself asking.
His captor's feline eyes narrowed. “You obviously think I'm some criminal mastermind, Gabriel, who warrants a place on the news."
Gabriel said nothing.
"Yeah, I was on the news,” Ethan said. “But it'll blow over soon enough. I'm no big deal.” His eyes were averted, his tone self-deprecating.
And Gabriel thought suddenly: how wrong you are, because at the moment, with the taste of you still in my mouth, you feel like a real fucking big deal to me.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Three
After breakfast Gabriel asked to get some writing done and, after unplugging the Internet router downstairs, Ethan came up with him. Gabriel was intimidated by him prowling around his office looking at things while his computer booted up.
He stopped by the bookcase and scanned the books, looking over at Gabriel. “You got any of your own books here?” he asked.
"Yeah,” Gabriel said. “Those on the top shelf."
Ethan pulled one out and looked quizzically at the name on the front. “Chase Delaney?” he questioned in disbelief.
"My pseudonym,” Gabriel said haughtily.
Ethan sniggered. “Well, Chase, I'm going to take these books over into the corner here and decide which one to read while you write.” He scooped out the six novels and carried them over to the sofa bed in the corner, lying down full-length, the books spread over his knee.
With a sigh, Gabriel turned back to the computer.
"Which one's your favorite?” Ethan asked. “I like the sound of this one."
Gabriel turned around to see him holding up the black-covered book titled Broken. He nodded. “That's my favorite,” he said.
"Great minds think alike,” Ethan remarked. “Get back to work."
Gabriel turned back and opened up the document holding his latest book. At the side of the keyboard was a book that held notes and a rough chapter plan. As he skipped to the end of the document, he glanced at the book, trying to remember where he had left his writing the previous day, before the intruder had turned his life upside down. He stared at the screen now, at the paragraph he had written last.
The words swam before his eyes. He could still feel Ethan under his hands and in his mouth. He could still hear the moans and curses Ethan emitted as he came and feel the hand on the back of his neck. His omnipresent hard-on started to rise again. He swore he was going to get some alone time, somehow, from Ethan in order to beat one off, or he was going to die. He would have to tell Ethan what he wanted, make it clear he needed to let him do it, for the sake of his sanity, for the sake of his balls. He could just ask for five minutes alone in the bathroom; that would be more than enough.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get focused. Then his mind wandered treacherously back to his unsuccessful seduction attempt. But how unsuccessful had it been? Ethan had let him do it and he had loved it. He would no doubt be receptive to more of the same if Gabriel could engineer another similar situation. He almost laughed aloud at his own thoughts. Who was he trying to fool? He wanted to engineer another encounter to get his hands back on Ethan's lovely body, and not to get away. When he had had that cock in his mouth, he couldn't have given a fuck about getting away. Jesus, this was a mess. If Ethan wasn't so damn hot.... How long was the bastard going to stay here, putting Gabriel off his writing when he had deadlines to meet?
/> "Struggling?” Ethan asked suddenly, sarcastically.
Gabriel's jaw clenched. “Any chance you could go sit in another room?” he suggested sweetly, words dripping with venom.
"Any chance you could fuck off?” Ethan retorted. “What's the matter? Am I distracting you? Still thinking about sucking me off?"
Gabriel's spine stiffened. “Yeah,” he said. “Just like you are."
Ethan went quiet. Gabriel slowly swiveled his chair around to look at him.
Ethan was flushed, jade green eyes intent on his. “Aren't you?” Gabriel repeated in a low voice.
Ethan shook his head.
"Liar,” Gabriel growled.
"Fuck you,” hissed Ethan.
"You would, given half the chance,” Gabriel retorted.
Ethan grew even angrier at this baiting. “Want to be chained to the radiator the rest of the day?” he demanded.
"I'm beginning to think you get turned on playing these S & M games,” Gabriel remarked facetiously. “Am I right?"
Ethan leapt from his chair and stalked over to Gabriel. Gabriel tried to get quickly to his feet so as not to be at a disadvantage for whatever was coming, but Ethan jabbed him hard in the stomach with the gun before he could, gripping a handful of Gabriel's long hair, dragging his head back. “Listen to me, Chase,” he hissed. “I've had about as much as I can take from you. That ... thing in the bathroom never happened. If you mention it once more, I swear to God I'm going to shoot you."
"See, Ethan,” Gabriel replied calmly. “I think you've no intention of shooting me. I think you like me way too much for that."
Using his free hand, Ethan hit him hard across the face. Gabriel's head snapped back, the chair spun and he hit the corner of the desk hard, instantly unconscious.
* * * *
Gabriel came slowly around to find himself lying on his bed, one arm stretched above him, chained to the headboard. Sitting on the bed beside him was Ethan, a bag of ice wrapped in a towel and pressed to Gabriel's head. Their eyes met and Gabriel instantly turned his face away. “Get the fuck off me,” he muttered.
Ethan tossed the ice onto Gabriel's chest and stood up. He left the room without a backward glance. Gabriel stared after him angrily for a moment before picking up the ice and pressing it back to his head. He tried to relax but his skull ached mercilessly and he was thirsty. He wondered how long he had been unconscious. He glanced at the alarm clock. It was five-thirty.
"Ethan,” he called finally. “I need some painkillers."
There was no reply from downstairs. Gabriel shuffled as far to the edge of the bed as he could and reached into the bedside drawer. There he found some aspirin. He hated swallowing tablets dry but he had no choice; he didn't intend to suffer here for as long as Ethan decided to leave him.
One-handed, he fumbled two tablets from the bottle and put one in his mouth, trying to conjure up some saliva from somewhere. Immediately the tablet lodged in his throat and he started to cough. He slid quickly up into a seated position, trying to swallow.
The tablet remained stuck. He coughed more violently. Only water would shift it, he knew. He tried to call out to Ethan for help, pulling uselessly at the handcuff, but he made no noise other than deep, wheezing inspirations for breath. His face turned red and tears ran down his face. He tried in vain to swallow again, beginning to panic, the small tablet feeling like an apple in his throat.
His vision swam. He clutched at handfuls of the bedcovers, his airway virtually occluded, rattles for breath diminishing. He saw Ethan enter the room as he began to lose consciousness. He felt rough hands on him, flipping him over onto his face, dragging him up onto his knees. A moment later, he was embraced from behind, two hands thrusting up hard beneath his sternum. The tablet was ejected violently from Gabriel's mouth and he sucked in huge gasps of air, head hanging down, only Ethan's arms preventing him from sliding down onto the bed.
It was many minutes before he recovered, panting and gasping, strings of saliva dripping from his mouth, to be gathered by his trembling hand. And Ethan remained kneeling behind him, arms around him, holding him up.
Finally, Ethan let him go and climbed from the bed. Gabriel turned around, sitting down and lifting his eyes to look at his rescuer. But Ethan had gone. He closed his eyes a moment, wiping his wet lashes, hearing footsteps suddenly return. Ethan held out a glass of water.
Gabriel took it gratefully, drinking it down slowly. Ethan watched him in silence.
"You gonna uncuff me now?” he asked quietly, his voice raw and hoarse.
"You gonna behave now?” Ethan retorted.
Gabriel nodded.
"Let me look at your head,” Ethan said. He knelt on the bed and took Gabriel's head in his hands, leaning it forward so it was almost pressed into his chest. There he parted the hair with almost delicate fingers, tracing the lump there so Gabriel winced in protest. He let go and sat back a little, still close to Gabriel.
"I didn't mean to...” he said quietly, eyes averted. “I'm sorry about that."
Gabriel was taken aback. He studied the intruder's attractive face. He knew he should have hated the man for the continuing abuse he was taking at his hands, but he still wanted him; he could not help his desire for him. He didn't speak as Ethan leaned over him now, uncuffing him and motioning with his head for Gabriel to follow him downstairs.
He became aware immediately that something was cooking, much to his surprise. Silently he sat at the table when Ethan indicated that he should do so, watching and waiting as Ethan pulled a dish from the oven and served it up onto two plates. He stared down at his plate as Ethan put it in front of him.
"What's wrong?” Ethan asked defensively. “Does it look so bad?"
"God no,” Gabriel said quickly. “It looks great.” He was wondering why Ethan hadn't cuffed him to the table. He was thinking about the gun tucked into the back of his captor's pants and wondering if he could grab it next time Ethan turned his back.
"It's just the same as that casserole of yours I had last night but I'm a shit cook so.... “Ethan shrugged now, looking embarrassed. He went to the fridge and looked inside. He pulled out a bottle of white wine. “Do you want this?"
"Sure,” Gabriel said, more than eager for a drink although a little surprised that Ethan would choose to add alcohol to the volatile situation between them both.
Ethan brought two glasses now and uncorked the wine, pouring them both a measure. He then filled a jug with water and brought two extra glasses for this. “Where're your painkillers?” he asked.
"Top cupboard,” Gabriel said, indicating the one next to the fridge. Ethan went over and came back with a box of Tylenol before sitting down opposite Gabriel. Gabriel immediately took two, guzzled these with half a glass of the wine and felt almost instantly better as the alcohol worked its way into his system. He tackled the food, finding it delicious, keeping his eyes averted from Ethan.
The meal was silent, the wine frequently topped off. Ethan finally spoke up. “He hasn't called yet."
A statement, not a question. “It's early,” Gabriel mumbled, eyes averted although he was thinking the same thing. Why hadn't his partner called him yet today?
"He usually calls late, does he?"
"It varies. Maybe he's working late."
"What does he do?"
"He works for an Internet book company."
"I see. Travel a lot, does he?"
"Yeah.” Gabriel stared suspiciously at Ethan.
"Hmm,” said the interloper. “I bet he gets up to all sorts when you're up here working your ass off."
Gabriel's face heated in defensive anger. “I don't know what sort of twisted, cheating relationships you've had in the past, Ethan, but this is a monogamous loving one, something you obviously know nothing about. I feel sorry for you."
This had the desired effect on Ethan. He went pale and bit his lip hard, thick lashes lowered to his plate, fork stabbing hard into a piece of eggplant as though wishing it were Gabriel's head.
Gabriel leaned over and poured Ethan the remaining portion of wine. This could make him go one of two ways, he mused. Either even more violent than he already was or putty in Gabriel's hands, ripe for seduction.
Ethan lifted his head now from watching Gabriel pour the wine, feline eyes narrowed. “Want to see me drunk?” he questioned as though he knew every thought in his captive's head.
"It can't be any worse than seeing you sober,” Gabriel retorted flippantly. Even now, after all the injuries this man had inflicted on him, he still had no control over his big mouth.
Instead of making him livid, however, Ethan regarded him in sardonic amusement. “You know, Jack must have to gag you in bed just to stop you talking,” he remarked.
"I'm sure you'd love to know what he does to me in bed,” Gabriel retorted. “Shame I didn't bring any videos with me."
A heated flush rose over Ethan's face. “And what exactly are you expecting me to be like when drunk?” he questioned.
Gabriel regarded him a moment before replying thoughtfully. “Like a slut."
Now Ethan was angry finally. “There's only one slut here,” he spat. “The man who sucks the cock of a strange guy who's been in his house less than a day."
Gabriel shrugged. “You can think whatever you like about me, Ethan,” he replied. “It doesn't matter. It's not as though I'll ever see you again once you're gone.” His gaze met that intense green one opposite, and the thought hurt him.
Ethan got up abruptly from the table and grabbed their two plates, moving toward the sink. Gabriel watched. His chest hurt where Ethan had thrust his fist into it. His head still ached where it had struck the desk but it also swam with the effects of half a bottle of wine. He longed for nothing more than to be buried under the covers of his bed with Ethan at that moment.
Captive Page 3
