Trust And Obey

by Ts McKinney

  Brookes’ response was to merely smile like Landry hadn’t just insulted him. He crossed his arms over his chest and moved just close enough where Landry would be forced to acknowledge how much Brookes towered over him. Landry stood his ground but Brookes had clearly been in the business long enough to know Landry’s body wanted to submit, but he was just fighting it with every ounce of willpower he had. His eyes would drift downward but then jerk upward again, glaring at Brookes. His hands made their way to his lower back and clasped together obediently before he jerked them back around and planted them on his slim hips.

  ****

  To Brookes, Landry’s body was nothing short of perfection. He wasn’t overly tall, but he wasn’t short either. He looked willowy and graceful when he wasn’t pretending with all those over-exaggerated movements he did to try and attract attention. He was thin, but not waiflike. Brookes imagined it was wiry and suspected the younger man was deceptively strong. High cheekbones, full pouty lips, and mysterious green eyes that would be alight with mischief one second and then incredibly sad the next topped off the work of art. Fuck, he had green eyes. Brookes was sure that hadn’t been the color the first time they’d met. That very fuckable body was what captured Brookes’ attention to begin with but it was his eyes, so full of dark secrets begging to be revealed, that held his attention. The odd green shade only made those secrets stand out even more.

  He wanted to peel back the layers of the little sub in front of him until there was nothing left to hide behind. He wanted to know exactly what all the fuss was about regarding Landry Evans—what caused wealthy men to search far and wide for him or what he possessed that caused him, a well-trained and experienced Dom, to want the inexperienced sub more than he’d ever wanted another man in his life. He wanted to make him moan with pleasure. He wanted to make him beg for more pain. He wanted to fuck him until any and all memories of other men were completely wiped away and replaced with only erotic thoughts of him.

  More than any of that, though, he wanted to make Landry laugh…the way he’d been laughing that first morning when he’d walked in on Landry, Colton, and Jagger. He wanted to be the reason those sexy lips of his would curve into a beautiful smile. Fuck, but that was so pathetic.

  He once again reminded himself of how dangerous and fucked up falling for a mark was. Once again, he ignored the warning.

  Fuck his world. He wanted Landry Evans and when he wanted a man, no one, wealthy or poor, weak or strong, should get in his way.

  “Don’t like cotton candy, eh? Okay, fair enough. I’ll come up with something more fitting after watching you work tonight.” He took a step closer, seriously invading Landry’s personal space. “You will be participating in a scene tonight, won’t you? The sweet little sub-slash-owner won’t disappoint the club-goers, will he?”

  Chapter 5

  Landry sputtered. Of course, he was planning on a scene tonight—dreaming of a scene with a Dom that might finally help him drift over into the wonderful world of subspace…but he sure as hell wasn’t going to scene with Brookes. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Fuck, what would Brookes be like? He was notoriously famous in the BDSM world. No, he couldn’t.

  He either hated Brookes or had a serious case of the not-likes.

  “I most certainly will not scene with you, that much is for certain,” he finally managed to squeak out. He didn’t squeak. Jagger squeaked. Any and all squeaks had been left behind at that stupid religious retreat where he met his first love. A noise like that would have been all right in front of Alexander but only Alexander. The boy he’d only known for a little over two weeks had been his first true friend in life and that friendship was one he’d never forget. Sure, he was certain he probably exaggerated what their relationship had really been, probably completely forgotten by Alexander after only a few months of wondering if Landry made good on his escape, but since he could never be proven wrong, he allowed himself to believe they’d been the best of friends.

  “Really? Want to put a wager on that?” Brookes asked arrogantly. No, not just arrogantly. He spoke with the kind of authority and confidence that said he knew he could have Landry any time he wanted him and he found Landry’s ‘hard to get’ act not only futile but probably comical as well. His gray eyes seemed to devour Landry as he patiently waited for a response.

  Landry tried another method. He allowed his own green eyes to flicker up and down Brookes’ muscled physique. “You look like an idiot. That’s what you’re wearing tonight? I bet you’ll have all the subs standing in line to give you a try, Mr. Tommy Bahama,” he mocked, referring to the island catalog look Brookes was currently sporting. “I suspect I’ll scene with a nice hunk of man encased in hot leather…instead of linen.”

  Brookes’ hand rose with lightning speed and before Landry could react, he’d wrapped that strong hand around the back of Landry’s neck and held him tightly. It was a sexy hold that always succeeded in making Landry melt into a puddle of submission. Landry found himself forced to fight the urge and demand his body to remain perfectly cold and aloof. Shivers hijacked his body. Shit, it was a fucking losing battle. He wanted to melt.

  “Linen or leather, baby? Trust me, it wouldn’t matter in the least. When I have you…and I will have you…I promise to make you soar like none other has been able to.”

  Brookes’ lips moved closer and when he was only mere inches away from Landry’s earlobe, he paused in order to give the smaller man a chance to scamper away if that was what he wanted. Landry stood stock still, eyes wide, and plump lips slightly parted. His breathing was turning erratic and his eyes were locked on Brookes’ mouth. Jade’s eyes suddenly looked a deep Irish emerald as arousal took over.

  Brookes dipped his mouth to capture that ear lobe between his teeth. He tugged and sucked, nipping and teasing, as his hand kept Landry held firmly in place for the assault. When his tongue slipped into Landry’s ear and did a few tongue fucks, a soft whimper slipped between Landry’s lips. Brookes tugged him closer, slamming their bodies together so Landry could feel the rock hard evidence of his desire.

  Later, when he was all alone, Landry would try to convince himself that the girlie whimper that he’d heard hadn’t come from his mouth. When Brookes yanked him against the hard wall of his body and he felt that fucking huge cock push against him, the whimpers had turned to purrs, needy purrs that literally begged for more. Everything about Brookes was hard…and huge.

  You don’t like him. You don’t like him. He kept chanting the reminder to himself…as he tried to push his body even closer to Brookes. If somebody didn’t intervene, he would be crawling up the man and wrapping his legs around that lean waist. Somebody needed to fucking intervene!

  Brookes stepped away.

  That wasn’t the intervention Landry was hoping for.

  The minute the man removed his strength, Landry felt cold and alone. Desperate and sad. Pride be damned, he wanted the man. Maybe a nice fast fuck and Brookes would be completely out of his system. Yeah, a nice fast fuck, that was the solution. Only, he knew Brookes wouldn’t fuck fast. It would be hard and slow, demanding full submission.

  “I’ll have you in cuffs before the night is over, beauty. Wait and see,” Brookes promised. “Now, I’d like to look around, check out your equipment, and get familiar with the setup.” He smiled and looked down at the leather bag at his feet. “And, of course, I’ll need to change. I’m sure you have a locker room available.”

  Without waiting for an answer or probably even expecting one, Brookes turned and sauntered away…like he wasn’t the least bit affected by what just transpired between the two of them. Landry couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t do any fucking thing but stand there and imagine Brookes fucking him into the next century. His cock was hard and if the truth be known, probably leaving a wet stain on the front of his pants. He should feel humiliated by being left in such a predicament after being handled so properly, but all he could feel was lust. Hot, all-consuming, must-be-quenched lust…fo
r a man he supposedly didn’t like.

  “He’s…intense,” Sage said quietly. “You okay, Landry?”

  Landry didn’t answer. Landry couldn’t answer. Landry couldn’t do anything.

  “Who is he? Where did he come from? Are you guys dating?”

  The questions kept flying from Sage’s mouth as visions of Brookes completely naked and fucking him in every possible position kept flying around in Landry’s head.

  Finally, he gathered himself together well enough to answer, “No, we aren’t dating. He’s an ass. Steer clear of him, Sage. He’s…he’s too intense.” That was a lie. He just didn’t need the cute little Sage serving as a competitor for Brookes’ attention. Well, shit, when did he get so catty?

  “That’s nothing anybody has to worry about,” Sage answered softly as his eyes trailed every step Brookes took as the handsome man inspected the club’s equipment. “He’s way out of my league and only has eyes for you.”

  A warm feeling washed over Landry at Sage’s words…pissing him off. He didn’t want to have warm whispers caressing him just because another person told him that Brookes was interested. He might not want it, but he was getting it. Hating Brookes would’ve been so much easier but Landry was terrified that the easy path wasn’t going to be an option for him. He opened his mouth to try and make some kind of clever remark and was thankfully saved by the sight of Colton and Jagger headed in his direction.

  He smiled. Colton looked as happy as a person could possibly look and Jagger looked disheveled and thoroughly fucked…and even happier than Colton. There was a blatant ‘he belongs to me’ hickey high on Jagger’s neck and whisker kisses marking nearly every visible inch of sexy skin.

  “Thanks for the key, bro!” Colton bellowed like the cock of the walk. He completed the words with a smack to Jagger’s ass. Jagger, God bless him, blushed and shoved at Colton, mumbling a “not in front of everybody”.

  Colton tossed the keys back to Landry and wrapped an arm around Jagger’s waist, properly chastised but still getting to touch. Touching was good. His eyes were already twinkling with delight and satisfaction but when they surveyed the room and landed on Brookes, they brightened up even more. Damned traitor!

  “Not a word,” Landry hissed at Colton. The last thing he needed was one more person playing matchmaker between him and Brookes. Colton already made it clear he thought the giant, tattooed man was a perfect match for Landry. Oh yeah, he still owed him for that breakfast shit show he set up between the four of them. “Get shy boy out of here before the action starts. I don’t need Doms getting all hot and bothered over his ample amount of innocence and you going all ape shit possessive. It could very well ruin my first night.”

  Landry refused to look. He was not going to look in Brookes’ direction. He wasn’t doing it. He didn’t care what the other man was doing. Nope, didn’t give a flying fuck on a broomstick.

  He looked.

  Fuck, the man was stroking the soft leather of the spanking bench like he would stroke a sub’s heated skin. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His cock jumped to attention.

  Jagger followed his gaze and instead of implementing an eye twinkle, Jagger’s gaze darkened with worry and he immediately closed the distance between the two of them. Not quite in Landry’s personal space but probably way too close for Jagger’s comfort, he asked, “Are you okay? Do you need some help calming down?”

  Great, now he’d taken Jagger’s post-fuck glow away. Was he always going to be an Easter basket short of Easter eggs when the Dom was around?

  “I’m good,” he answered honestly. Sure, his skin prickled and his cock throbbed just from being within a fifty-mile radius of the other man, but he wasn’t feeling like a panic attack was sneaking up on him. “I promise,” he added when he saw the doubts flicker in Jagger’s eyes.

  “Call if you need me?” Jagger asked. He huffed and then turned to Colton, “I really think we need to be here tonight. The rest of the guys are going to be here for the first night. Why can’t we?”

  “Because.”

  Landry choked on his laughter. Colton was so about to get his ass kicked. Right now it was nothing more than a cute squabble, but those two were headed for a full-on throw down over the club. Jagger, trying to spread his wings and fly as a gay man, was interested in what happened with all the naughty sex furniture and toys of the trade, and wanted to stick around and have some fun. Colton, on the other hand, was in full protective and ‘he’s all mine’ mode and wasn’t at all interested in sharing his Wildcat with anyone—even if that sharing only meant letting others watch. It was strange, this new, slightly prudish, side of Colton. He was going to enjoy watching Jagger slowly dismantle him piece by piece. Colton, his dear friend, was fighting a losing battle because every single day that passed, Jagger was waging his own battle to finally break free from the bindings of his childhood.

  He half listened as his two friends playfully bickered with each other. His eyes, however, were on full stalking mode as he watched every move Brookes made. The lighting in the club was seductively dim but he could still see how leg muscles would move with each step. When he would reach for the equipment, arm muscles flexed and stretched. Landry’s mouth watered. As he checked the cuffs attached to the St. Andrew’s cross, his shirt lifted enough for Landry to get a glimpse…just a tease of the tattoos that covered his lower back. Usually too many tattoos were a turn off for him, but there wasn’t a damn thing about Brookes that turned him off. Not a damned thing.

  Chapter 6

  Landry sagged against the spanking bench as the visiting Dom finished removing his cuffs and started stroking his skin lovingly, whispering words he’d clearly been trained to whisper. Nothing felt or sounded real. Landry was disappointed…yet again. No subspace. Not even close. Sure, the flogging had been nice, very nice, but it had been nothing more than his body enjoying just a touch of pain to seek its pleasure. What was wrong with him?

  To be honest, his cock had only gotten hard because he’d forced it to happen. He absolutely positively refused to perform for a crowd and not at least try to convince them that the scene was off the charts enjoyable. Anyway, it wasn’t Lucifer’s fault. Yes, a stupid name for a Dom, but at least the man knew how to use a flogger. Landry knew it was his own fault. Physically, he could take anything any Dom tried to dish out to him, but he was beginning to fear that it was always going to only be for their enjoyment. He liked getting spanked, flogged, caned…all sorts of pretties in the BDSM world, but something was there, always there, preventing him from reaching his nirvana.

  The crowd, at maximum capacity, applauded and some people even whistled and yelled when the performance ended. It was apparent he and Lucifer managed to work the crowd into a frenzy, even if he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he’d pretended. Introduction night was beyond a success. It was more than he could have even dreamed or fantasized about. Hemingway was going to be a success. He should be elated and content but apparently, contentment was a dodgy bitch because she was eluding him at every turn.

  He wanted Jericho Brookes. Fuck his pride if it had knocked him out of the chance of working with the experienced Dom. He’d been one hundred percent certain that Brookes would want to scene with him but the man had done nothing more than ignore him all night long. Landry participated in two scenes with two different Doms—neither of them Brookes. Oh, Brookes worked…just not with Landry. Three submissives felt the kiss of his tools of the trade tonight and Landry was beyond pissed that none of them had been him. No sex was involved with any of his scenes, but Landry’s body craved the feel of the Dom’s leather touching his skin.

  Oh, and he’d changed clothes. Did he ever fucking change clothes? His linen had disappeared and in its place was lovely black leather that hugged every muscle and bulge of the man’s lower body. His chest was uncovered except for the black harness that crisscrossed his upper body, accenting…well accenting every fucking thing about the man. Chunky black boots completed his outfit. It was pretty much the same as what all t
he Doms were wearing, he just wore it so much fucking better.

  As Lucifer helped him stand and offered him a bottle of water, Landry smiled and mumbled, “Thank you, Lucifer.” No, the true respect wasn’t there, but nobody would ever suspect it. He knew how to play the game, to be what they expected and wanted him to be. After assuring the other man he was fine and not in need of any additional aftercare, Landry allowed his gaze to travel over to the wall of mirrors. Why hadn’t Jericho wanted him? Had he not looked like a proper sub? Not pretty enough? Too pretty? Too feminine? Too over the top? Too under the top?

  In the mirror, he focused in on his thin, lean frame and searched for what might have turned the popular Dom away. He was pale, incredibly pale for a man who lived in Key West, but no matter how hard he tried, there was no tanning his skin. He might not have muscles as big as Colton or Jagger, but his muscles were there…lean and well-defined. His knee high black boots hugged lower legs that made the mouths water of every other Dom in the club. If that hadn’t garnered enough attention, he was wearing his leather booty shorts that sported a zipper along his ass crack and butt cheeks that could be unzipped to reveal his pert ass. And it had been unzipped several times during the night. Like Jericho, his chest was uncovered except for a crisscross harness that was much smaller than the leather contraption Jericho wore, but just as enticing. His nipples were clamped and attached to the harness. A thick leather collar rested on his thin neck, making him appear almost delicate…even if he was so far away from that description that it was almost comical. He’d used black eyeliner on his eyes and the results were a mix of edginess and wide-eyed innocence. Again, innocence was not an appropriate adjective for him. He hadn’t been innocent since that first night with Alexander Fulton at the beat-the-gay-out-of-them camp. Shit, it’d felt so much better back then with Alexander, so much sweeter without all his darkness smothering out the fun of sex.