Trust And Obey

by Ts McKinney

  He jerked his gaze away, refusing to allow the sad thoughts to creep in on his big night, and focused on the crowd. He offered a cute wave and then hopped down from the stage. With a sultry saunter, he went over to a big Dom and asked if the man if he could help him with his zipper. When the man’s smile nearly split his face in two, Landry bent over the edge of the stage and presented his ass to the man…and the crowd. Everybody went wild as the Dom slowly tugged the zipper until every inch of Landry’s pale ass finally disappeared behind the leather.

  Could he do this for the rest of his life? Pretend? Act like he was finding what he was looking for when he knew he hadn’t tasted true satisfaction yet? Would he always be pretending to be something he wasn’t? He supposed it would have to be enough…it was all he was ever going to have.

  Nearly two hours later, the private party was finally over and the guests were either leaving or had already coupled off and made their exit. Riley and Rory stayed until the bitter end, having a good time but never quite fitting in—BDSM clearly wasn’t their thing but they’d been there to support him. They’d left him only about fifteen minutes ago, after he’d assured them he didn’t need an escort home, and they’d been, of course, bickering about something as they headed out the door. It was barely past midnight and the club, when open for the public, would stay open much later than this, but tonight he was exhausted and ready for it to be over. It’d been everything he’d dreamed it would be – a huge success and a fun fucking time. Every night for the first six months they were scheduled to be open was already booked solid. He couldn’t have been prouder of himself and his friends.

  He also didn’t think it was humanly possible for him to feel more disappointed than he did at the moment. Brookes hadn’t wanted him. Sure, he’d been nothing but an ass to the man, but that little fact didn’t keep his head and heart from feeling all…empty. He wasn’t good at many things on this earth, but he was damned good at taking the kiss of a whip or flogger. He’d been playing this game since long before he’d met Colton and Rory—been playing it when it hadn’t been a safe game for him to play—but he’d never once had to safe word out of a scene. No Dom, no matter how big or strong, could give him more pain than he could take. He prided himself on that fact. He’d been ready to put the arrogant Dom in his place, to show him what he was made of, but the superior bastard hadn’t given him the chance.

  It pissed him off. It made him want to kick Jericho Brookes out of his club and off of his island. It hurt his feelings.

  Fuck.

  Up until the moment Brookes had swaggered into his tiny portion of the world, he’d suspected he didn’t even possess feelings. Now it appeared he wore them on his sleeve. No, he was currently wearing his emotions on his chest like a scarlet fucking A for the entire world to see.

  “Hey, boss. You finished with me for the night?” Sage asked in that quiet and timid voice that kept a good number of the Doms hanging around the bar most of the night. His body and downcast eyes screamed submissive loud enough that it could have probably been heard in Cuba.

  Glancing around the club, he was surprised to find that it had emptied while he’d been playing the star role in his own pity party. Since a cleaning crew was scheduled to come in tomorrow morning, he wasn’t even going to worry about the messy scene in front of him. Nope, wasn’t going to worry about anything. “All done, kid. You did great tonight. Get some rest.”

  “Lock up behind me,” Sage said, once again sneaking up on him. “It was a great night, yeah? I had loads of fun and it looked like everybody else did, too.”

  His lips were shaping a beautiful smile but it didn’t even begin to reach his bright blue eyes. It never did. Sage, behind the mask he tried to keep firmly locked in place, had the saddest expression of anyone Landry had ever met…and he’d been in the presence of sadness on a regular fucking basis. The youngster was new to the area so Landry didn’t know much about him and that realization made him feel like shit. He’d been so caught up in his own life, he hadn’t bothered to pause and look around him. Fuck, add the fact that he’d hit on the guy made him feel even shittier. As he followed Sage to the exit, he vowed to rectify that mistake as early as possible. Yes, he’d hired several employees for his club, but Sage somehow seemed special. For some strange reason, he wanted him involved with his group of friends. If anybody could drag a man out of depression, it would be Colton, Rory, Jagger, and Riley.

  Reaching the door, he said, “Hey…about…before. I’m really sorry about acting like that, kid. I know better than that shit. I was…I was just messed up, ya know? It won’t happen again, I promise.” Other than revealing he was an ex-whore and current nutcase, that was probably the best he could offer in the form of an apology. He’d already apologized more times than he had fingers, but felt certain it would never be enough. He also knew time would be his biggest ally in winning Sage back over. He would prove to the kid that he wasn’t that person.

  Another one of Sage’s soft smiles. “It’s not a problem, boss. I understand. I knew you were acting totally out of character.” His shy eyes glanced up at Landry from beneath his lashes. “I’m not a kid, you realize? I couldn’t work here if I was. I bet we’re the same age.”

  “You’re a kid to me, Sage. Trust me, even if we are the same age, I’ve aged in dog years, so I passed you long ago. The numbers might be close to the same, but the mileage on my body is totally different…which makes you a kid in my eyes.”

  “Whatever,” Sage mumbled.

  He was still clearly nervous about something. Shit, what if he was afraid? Did he think he would hold his boss position over his head and make him do something?

  “Hey, are you okay? Please don’t be afraid of me, Sage. I promise you, it will never happen again.”

  Sage huffed out what he probably considered a laugh, or at least it was the closest to a laugh any of them had heard from him yet. “I’m not worried about that. Jagger told me that if you even looked at me cross-eyed again, he would put a shock collar on you and give me the remote.”

  Landry bit back a smile, that sounded just like Jagger. “Did he now? Pretty pissed at me, was he?”

  “Nah, not pissed. He was worried about you and worried about me too.” This time when he looked up at him, it wasn’t from beneath the lashes. He got a full on eye to eye look, and he was once again amazed at the sadness swirling in those depths. “He’s a worrier, that Jagger.”

  “Yeah, he is.” Landry answered. Jagger’s story wasn’t his to tell, so he kept his lips glued shut. “We’ll all be safe and sound with Jagger watching over us.”

  “I hope so,” was the soft reply. Landry wondered what the hell that meant but before he could ponder too deeply on the idea, Sage’s next words knocked every single other thought out of his head. “Are you okay being alone here with him? I can stay longer if you need me.”

  Landry frowned. “Who?” He swiveled his head around to the left and then right…and landed right on a very arrogant Jericho Brookes lounging in one of the Dom chairs like he owned the fucking world. His long legs, encased in black leather that hugged every fucking muscle, bump, and ridge, were sprawled out in front of him. His chest was a mural of muscles and tattoos that blended together to form a wall of perfection. The Dom’s body was large and powerful, an aphrodisiac to a submissive personality like his. Yeah, the body package was enticing enough to make his mouth water but when you added his beautiful face and deadly arrogance to the mix, it became a cocktail Landry found to be too inviting to turn away.

  “No, he doesn’t scare me at all,” Landry answered, his eyes still lasered in on Brookes. That was a lie. Jericho Brookes scared the fuck out of him. The man was the embodiment of everything Landry would have wanted in a lover. Problem was…Landry didn’t take lovers. He did scenes. He fucked. Nothing more.

  “Maybe he should,” Sage countered. “He’s…intimidating, to say the least.”

  Frowning, Landry answered, “You’ll learn about Doms’ personalities soon e
nough, Sage. They’re all bark and no bite. They pretend to be something they aren’t and they expect the same from you. It’s all a game.” He smiled at Sage. “A fun game of dress-up but this time I’m not sneaking into my mother’s closet and wearing her dresses and heels!”

  Sage blushed. “Well…uh…okay. That’s good to know about you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll see you in the morning, Landry. Take care.”

  “See you in the morning, Sage. You did great tonight. I didn’t get to spend as much time with you as I wanted, but I heard nothing but rave reviews from all our patrons. You were a hit.” He smiled sincerely at the kid. “You’re going to fit in nicely with our group. I’m glad we found you before somebody else grabbed you up.”

  Boom! The sadness in his eyes escalated. Shit, the poor kid might be as fucked up as he and Jagger were. He watched silently as Sage waved goodbye and started walking in the direction away from Duval Street. Hell, he didn’t even know the kid walked to get to work or where he even lived—another detail he would have to rectify tomorrow. The island was safe but there was no reason for Sage to walk when each of them owned a car.

  His eyes stayed on Sage until he blended in with the rest of the crowd on the still busy street because Duval never really slept or ceased to party. Yes, he stood there long after he could no longer see Sage because he wasn’t sure what to do with the man waiting for him inside the club. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he was breaking every safety rule known to man, woman, and child by allowing a complete stranger to linger in the club after closing. He didn’t know the first damned thing about Jericho Brookes, just rumors but nothing that could be substantiated with facts. The man was huge and could easily overpower Landry and do any act of violence his heart might desire and there wouldn’t be a damned thing he could do to stop the muscled giant. Safety was only a few steps away, he could just step outside the club, wave at one of the numerous cops that were always working the crowds, and have Brookes removed from the premises. Avoiding this potentially unsafe situation was easier than pouring his body into the tight leather booty shorts he was currently wearing.

  He also knew he wasn’t going to run in the opposite direction of Brookes. He closed the club door and slid the lock into place. He might not like it, agree with it, or think it was the best course of action, but he was running straight to Jericho Brookes tonight. One time—just to get the man out of his system once and for all.

  One time.

  He turned slowly and his eyes immediately landed on Brookes. He was no longer lounging casually in the throne chair Landry had last seen him in. No…Brookes stood right in the middle of center stage, massive arms crossed over his impressive chest, legs spread wide in an arrogant pose that made Landry’s mouth water, and a challenging smirk curving his sexier than sexy lips. Without saying a word, he was throwing down the gauntlet, daring Landry to join him on the stage. The man’s cockiness and arrogant swagger were off the charts and while Landry always found himself attracted to those particular qualities in a Dom, he’d often wondered if the attraction was because he found it arousing or if it was because he loved to throw it back in their faces. They all thought they could break him…hurt him more than he could handle. They were all wrong.

  Brookes would be, as well.

  With a confident swagger of his own, Landry slowly made his way toward the center stage. His eyes remained locked with the gray orbs tracking his every move and the silent challenge going on between them continued even after Landry reached the small staircase that would lead him up to the impressive Dom. He paused there, waiting for Brookes to give him a command. He knew the games they liked to play, how they liked to pretend like they were the ones in control of the scene when they both knew it was really him…always him.

  Instead of issuing the command to come to him like Landry had expected, Brookes closed the distance between them with steady, calm steps. When he reached the edge of the stage, right above the stairs where Landry stood waiting, he looked down at Landry and smiled.

  Smiled. Not an arrogant smirk that shouted he was alpha, but a soft, friendly smile. Landry stepped back. The fucker hadn’t used that trick on any of the other subs when he’d played earlier. Caught off guard, Landry looked at his own feet, taking a sudden interest in his lace up military boots, and tried to adjust to the new game. He didn’t like being caught off guard…didn’t like not knowing what would come next or how he should respond to it. This wasn’t going the way he’d imagined, and Heaven knew he’d imagined it often enough since the first morning Brookes strutted into his club.

  “Do you mind if I turn on some music?” Brookes asked in his deep, sexy voice that was a cross between a rumble and a growl.

  Music? What. The. Fuck. He wasn’t here to dance. He was here to Dom. Landry’s mind struggled to adjust. “Music? Why?”

  Brookes shrugged. “Because I enjoy it,” he answered but when he noticed the expression on Landry’s face, he added, “And because I don’t like it to be too quiet during a scene. When there’s nothing but silence surrounding you, even the smallest noise can be a distraction. Unlike the other Doms you’ve played with tonight, I want your full attention, cotton candy. Those games you played with the others?” He mocked with a cock of his eyebrow. “They won’t work with me. If you want to play with me, then you’re going to go all the way. You’re going to give me everything.”

  Landry had wanted to give everything for so damned long but knew, from hundreds of disappointing experiences, that either he wasn’t willing to give it all or there wasn’t a Dom skilled enough to take it. Whichever it was, one of those reasons blocked him from reaching that blissful spot he’d craved since the first time he’d witnessed a sub lost in subspace. The beauty. The intoxicating arousal. The peace.

  It always eluded him. Hell, he could count on one hand the times he’d even gotten close to tumbling over the edge. One Dom had whipped him so badly that he’d been forced to take to his bed for two days…but, even then, nothing. He’d talked to other subs and studied diligently about subspace. He knew what it was, how it would feel, and how to get there. He just couldn’t achieve it himself.

  “What’s it going to be, cotton candy? Are you going to be a brave little boy tonight and give me what I want?” Brookes asked.

  Landry huffed out a snort and forced his mind back to reality instead of lingering in his fantasy world of the elusive peace he so craved.

  “Or are you going to keep playing silly games with other Doms—pretending to be their pretty little submissive that enjoys obeying them and letting them whip his pert ass until it’s a bright red? BDSM isn’t a game. What you’re doing is dangerous, Landry. It’s dangerous and it’s not fair to you or to them.”

  What in the fucking hell was he talking about? Words were tumbling out of Brookes’ mouth, but not a one of them was making any sense to Landry. He knew exactly what BDSM was. He’d lived this life since he was barely older than a teenager. His body had been dominated by men bigger and stronger than Brookes and he’d walked away from every encounter without ever using his safe word to end a scene. It wasn’t dangerous, he was just a badass who could tolerate any pain they heaped onto his plate. Hell, if the man only knew some of the things he’d survived in his life, he’d be running for the door.

  Landry suddenly grinned. The arrogant ass was nervous, that was it. He’d watched him perform with the other Doms and knew he wouldn’t be able to bring him to his knees. He was already making excuses for what would undoubtedly be his failure during their scene. “Sure, Brookes. Turn on some music. I’m ready to be brave and play with you.”

  Brookes’ eyes narrowed a fraction but then he simply nodded, jumped off the stage, and casually let himself into the small room that contained their sound system. His exploration of the club earlier must have been quite extensive if he knew where and how to operate the music. Within seconds, a deliciously naughty song started echoing through the empty building.

  Fuck, but the man was q
uite capable at every damned thing he encountered. Landry frowned, not wanting to be impressed. This wasn’t the time to marvel at all the skills Brookes possessed, the man practically challenged him so Landry needed to keep in mind which side of the flogger he was on. This man kept managing to rattle his nerves and it was a feeling Landry didn’t welcome.

  He also didn’t welcome the fact that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Brookes’ heat right behind him…so close, but not close enough. Every nerve in his body was suddenly on high alert, especially everything below his waist. He always got hard during a scene, it was expected of him so even when he wasn’t in the mood or being impressed by the Dom working with him, he still forced his body to respond properly. His cock was wide awake at the moment and it hadn’t taken any effort on his part to make it happen. It was all Brookes and the fucker hadn’t even touched him yet.

  “Step up on my stage, my sweet little sub,” Brookes rumbled in his ear, causing him to jerk yet again. That sort of behavior was so unprofessional…so real instead of contrived.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s my stage,” Landry countered sarcastically, but the edge of his words was completely lost since his traitorous feet started moving the moment Brookes issued the command.

  Brookes tried to bite back a laugh, but failed miserably. Landry looked over his shoulder, certain he’d misinterpreted the sound, but when he saw the smile on Brookes’ face, he knew he hadn’t. The man wasn’t at all intimidated or angered by his sassiness. Again, he felt an uneasiness start to swirl around his ankles, slowing making its way up his body in a silent warning that he might be in over his head. This man was different.

  “Where do you want me, Sir?” he asked in a soft voice he’d mastered over the years. Yes, he knew how to play to the dominant’s desires. Downcast eyes. Obedience. A willing vessel for the pain and pleasure they loved to inflict.