Middleman

by Jayne Rylon

  He’s creating a faux suit cuff on top of my artificial wrist. The shading and proportions are so perfect I would hardly notice myself that it wasn’t my own skin instead of the cast obscuring my hand. Then, he fashions a tear in the “material” of both the suit jacket and the dress shirt he’s created to expose the flesh that would lie beneath it. As he climbs my limb, he digs deeper until it looks like a badass tattoo of the inner workings of my anatomy are on display.

  Muscles, sinew, and bone.

  To me it represents exactly how I feel about the cast. He took my fear and turned it into something stunning. My insides might be bared to anyone who looks, but now it seems deliberate. My choice rather than something that was done to me out of anger, spite, and greed.

  I could still wear a dress shirt over this and render the cast practically invisible. Only the realistic bits of drawn hand and wrist that blend into my actual appendage would be left showing.

  But now I don’t want to.

  Let them look.

  Let them see my vulnerable parts.

  Kaden made them beautiful. Me. He made me dramatic and fierce—badass—when I felt anything but that. The cast will be worthy of discussing now for the right reasons.

  People will say, do you see that? How amazing it is?

  He sits up straighter, cracking his neck as he assesses his work from afar. Satisfied, he finally shifts his gaze upward and meets my stare. “There. Better?”

  “It’s incredible. You’re incredible. Thank you.” I lean toward him, praying he’ll take my offering.

  He doesn’t disappoint.

  Kaden drops his markers. They scatter and roll across the cement floor as he frames my face with his hands. He pulls me the rest of the way toward him. The initial contact of our lips is light and reassuring. Comforting.

  That doesn’t last long, though.

  15

  Rogan

  I close my eyes and savor the gentle kisses Kaden gives me.

  Soon they’re not enough. A strangled sound escapes my chest when I open my mouth wider in invitation. He growls in response then begins to devour me.

  With teeth that scrape over my tongue and press into my lips, he shows me that he’s every bit as hungry for me as I am for him. His hands roam from my face, down my neck to my shoulders. He grasps them tight. Holds me steady as he advances.

  He’s drifting away from my mouth now, biting my jaw then beneath it lightly, closer to my ear. My cock stands at attention when he hits that special spot, right there, making me instantly malleable and compliant.

  “You like that?” he rasps.

  “Yeah.” I let my arms hang by my sides so he can do whatever he likes to me. “Again. Please.”

  He obliges, while chuckling against my skin. Then he grows serious. He cranes his neck far enough that he can meet my stare. “You remember the word I told you yesterday?”

  “Pygmalion.”

  “You’re going to say it if this is too much for your arm. Or too intense after what happened this morning. Right?”

  I nod.

  “No. Say it, Rogan.” He shakes me lightly. Nothing like Ronaldo’s violence. More like he’s trying to get my attention before I fall entirely under his spell. It might be too late for that.

  “If I want you to stop, I’ll say Pygmalion.” Then I quickly add, “But I don’t want you to stop.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Show me that I’m okay. That he hasn’t broken me. That I’m strong enough to handle a man like you.” What kind of man is that? A dedicated top? Is he really? Has he always been like this or is he playing the role for some reason? Will he eventually expect something I don’t have it in me to give?

  I don’t know. He’s certainly in charge tonight. That’s good enough at the moment.

  “I can do that.” He sucks on my neck, hard enough to make me wonder if I’ll have to hide a hickey before going into the office tomorrow. At least it will be better if people talk about that than my cast. One makes me seem desirable. The other, pitiful.

  I reach for Kaden. My wrist bumps his shoulder, and I wince.

  “None of that. Keep your hands to yourself so neither of us accidentally makes it worse.” He tucks my arms carefully at my sides once more. Is it really for my benefit or is he afraid of being touched? Last night he bound me. Tonight he’s using my injury as a convenient excuse.

  I suspect that’s the case. I don’t call him on it, though. Because I need the release he’s capable of giving me even if it stems from an unhealthy dynamic. I might have to reconsider that tactic later, when my mind is clear and strong again.

  Right now…my dick has other priorities.

  If Kaden is willing to indulge me in a quick and dirty fuck, that’s fine by me. I’ve been on the edge all day. If it hadn’t been for the critical deal I blew off to make last night’s delivery, I probably would have taken my first ever sick day. Then I would have rushed to his apartment straight from the hospital and the show his phone put on for me while I waited for the doctor.

  To avoid breaking his rules, I abandon my attempts to grope him. I scoot off the chair and sink to my knees on the floor, where I touch myself instead. I use my good hand to unbuckle my belt. Or at least I try. Fumbling around with my left hand doesn’t make it a smooth process. Especially since I can’t seem to stop staring up at him.

  He towers over me.

  I lean forward and nuzzle his groin. I mean, the evidence of his rock solid cock is right there in front of me. How can I not draw a deep breath and remember what he felt like stretching me?

  Kaden smiles, resting his hand on the back of my head. “Would you like some help?”

  “Yes. Damn it.”

  “You’re cute when you’re desperate for my cock.” He crouches down and rests our foreheads together. Then he jams his hands between us and rids me of my belt before unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. He yanks them down. “Lucky for you, I’ve been thinking of you every minute today while I…”

  He fades out.

  Before I can ask what exactly I distracted him from, he’s kissing me again. When he cups my balls and tugs on them, slightly beyond the realm of comfort, I forget every single one of my questions.

  “This isn’t going to be like last night,” he promises. “I won’t torture either of us. You need me, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good boy.” He pats my cheek with his open palm. I angle my face toward him like a cat rubbing against its master.

  Thank God. I can’t wait.

  Worst would be if he treated me like I’m fragile. Even though I feel somewhat delicate and I’m afraid I might never regain my confidence in a relationship, at least he’s willing to help me try.

  Almost fully clothed—shirt and shoes still on, pants and underwear around my knees—it startles me when his fingers wrap around my shaft. His rough touch is everything I crave.

  I moan.

  “You’re ready aren’t you?” he asks as he stares at my full erection.

  I nod. For a moment, when his lips part and his eyes widen, I think he might be thinking of blowing me, but we both know I wouldn’t last. I’d rather still be excited when he fucks me. It’ll make me come twice as hard if I climax with his dick in my ass.

  “Just a second.” He whips his wallet from his back pocket and digs out a condom. I can’t help but notice he found my check. And kept it.

  I file away my surprise that he didn’t argue over it for later.

  Much later, I hope.

  He rips open his fly while he traps the foil packet between his teeth. I stare as he rolls latex over his perfect cock. I’m torn between wanting to suck him again and needing him filling me, driving away the disgust in my guts and replacing it with euphoria.

  I think I’m addicted to him and the high he induces with his seduction.

  He curses beneath his breath. “Wait here. I’m gonna grab some lube from upstairs.”

  “Too long. Fuck me dry. Or spit works
. I don’t care.” Right now I don’t. Tomorrow I might regret my enthusiasm.

  He holds me at arm’s length. “I’m not ever going to hurt you like that. I might be a selfish bastard, but I’m not cruel.”

  “Then hurry.”

  Instead of deserting me, he spots something on a shelf behind me and grins. “Hang on. I’m not a Boy Scout or anything, but I do use linseed oil in my mediums. It’s food grade. If you can eat it, you can fuck with it. Pretty sure that’s how that saying goes.”

  Kaden takes a few steps in order to grab the bottle. So he won’t doubt my willingness, I use the split second he’s not by my side to rotate and face the chair I’d sat on while he decorated my cast. I keep my knees pretty far from it, bend over, then fold my arms on the seat.

  My ass is presented to Kaden when he turns back around.

  “Jesus, Rogan.” He spanks me. Hard. A few times, until I’m chewing on my lower lip. Tingles spread up my spine when he rubs out the sting. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.”

  “So stop teasing me and fuck it. Please.”

  He chuckles. “You’re awfully bossy for a man on his knees.”

  I huff, attempting to withhold any demands that might lead to a delay.

  “Speaking of that, this floor is too hard. Here, put this under your knees.” He whips his T-shirt over his head and wads it up before nudging me to lift first one leg then the other.

  It is a hell of a lot more comfortable being cushioned by the warm cotton he wore a moment ago. Plus I get a good look at his cut physique.

  My cock twitches. He’s so handsome. I can’t believe he’s about to ride me again.

  I rest my forehead on my arms so I can close my eyes and focus on feeling. I memorized a lot of the images on his phone, so I have them to recall while I concentrate on the sound of Kaden positioning himself behind me, the pressure as he spreads my legs as wide as my slacks will allow, and the first brush of his tip against my ass.

  He rests his erection in between my cheeks while he drizzles oil over us both.

  I cry out his name. If he says anything in return I can’t hear it over the rush of blood through my ears. Then he’s there, blanketing my back. It’s so hot when the pressure of his body imprints the seams of my shirt into my flesh. Neither of us could stand to take a few extra minutes to get rid of the rest of our clothes.

  He bites my shoulder, keeping me still as he lines up his erection and begins to work it into my unprepared body.

  It hurts. I love the burn.

  There’s no mistaking his presence in my body.

  “That’s it, Rogan. Let me in.” He moves with the barest twitches of his hips, letting me get used to his presence within me.

  I grunt and push backward, needing to be completely reunited with him.

  “Not too much, too fast.” He slows me with a strong grasp on my hips. “You’re going to enjoy this as much as me.”

  I don’t care about that in the heat of the moment. My cock is wilting in response to the pleasurable pain. As long as I please him, it will be worth it. It’s more important to be fuckable than to have fun.

  “Rogan, stop,” he commands.

  Obeying isn’t a conscious thought. It’s a reflexive response to his authority.

  He reaches beneath us and cups me, finding that I’ve softened some.

  “Look what you did.” He tsks his disapproval before massaging my shaft. His fingers wander from my balls, along my length, and up to the head of my cock. He smears the oil on his palm all over me, making his caresses glide across my skin.

  My breaths morph into pants. Blood rushes back to my shaft, rejuvenating my erection.

  He kisses the nape of my neck and nips my ear before whispering, “That’s better, isn’t it?”

  “Uh huh.” I can barely utter those two syllables.

  “Ready for more?”

  “Please.” I lift my ass, shoving it in his direction.

  Kaden wraps his finger lightly around my throat, petting my neck as he begins to deepen our connection. He pushes into me bit by bit, until his abs rest on my ass.

  All the while, he pumps me, bringing my cock back to full stiffness before proceeding. And when he does, he makes sure to nibble on that spot he found earlier. The one on my neck that makes me crazy.

  I hope he doesn’t care that I’m about to blow my load across his hand and his shirt and the floor. It’s not going to take very long, either.

  He’s not gentle or overly patient as he begins to fuck me.

  Even more than last night, I appreciate how he uses me.

  I might have a broken bone or two this morning, but I survived. I wish I’d done more to fight back, even though stooping to Ronaldo’s level would do absolutely nothing to solve my problems.

  I rock my head on my arms, trying to shake the thoughts of my ex from my brain.

  “Only me,” Kaden growls as he picks up the pace, pounding into me faster. “All you should be thinking of is me and what I’m doing to you. Everything else is irrelevant to what we’re sharing.”

  “So good.” My voice sounds shredded. Unrecognizable.

  “Yes, it is. For me, too. You’re gorgeous, Rogan. Any guy would kill to be buried inside you right now.” He punctuates every reassurance with several strokes within me. His moans and the long hard-on he shoves into me don’t lie. “I’m the lucky one, though. I’m the one about to shoot deep inside you.”

  Oh God. How is he still talking?

  He’s blanked everything except pleasure from my mind. Exactly what I needed.

  I wish it could last forever instead of a few more thrusts.

  When he starts twisting his wrist, squeezing each time he bumps the side of his hand against the ridge of my cockhead, I know my surrender is imminent.

  “Kaden!”

  “Yeah? You’re going to come for me?” He’s relentless, hammering into me so I can’t prevent myself from falling over the edge.

  I can’t answer.

  “Go ahead. I’m right there. With you.” He groans. The rhythm of his hips stutters slightly, then he plunges to the base of his cock so I’m holding all of him within me.

  I only last long enough for him to repeat the motion a couple more times.

  Then I burst.

  My orgasm curls my toes in my dress shoes and clenches my muscles around him. I lift my head as I roar, squeezing my eyes so tight that moisture leaks from the corners. It’s either that or fly apart in his arms.

  He joins me, cursing and chanting my name as he shudders along my back. The short jabs of his pelvis that accompany each round of contraction during his climax are dead on target, tapping my prostate.

  Fuck.

  I keep coming. Seemingly endless spasms extract pulse after pulse of fluid from my balls. I’m sure I’m doing my best Pollock impersonation on his floor right now. Hopefully he’ll appreciate the passion he inspires in me.

  My rapture seems to feed his, drawing out our releases. When he finally begins to soften, slipping from my grasp, he collapses.

  I enjoy his weight bearing down on me. It boosts my ego to support him fully. At least as much as his desire and compliments had. After a few minutes to catch his breath, Kaden shifts. He sits cross-legged on the floor. His shoulders rest against a pile of books. He hauls me into his lap.

  He uses his shirt to clean us off, then sighs as I nestle into the circle of his arms. I rest my head on the curve between his neck and shoulder, admiring the taut, tattooed pecs in front of my face.

  Content, we sit in silence for a long while.

  My mind drifts, free of self-recrimination or worry like it had when I slept, sheltered in his embrace. I think of our cookie fortune, now tucked into my wallet somewhere around my calves. This is where I’m supposed to be right now.

  I’m sure of it.

  Until my damn mind reengages and the questions I had earlier begin to bubble up from beneath the thick blanket of satisfaction Kaden had fabricated around us.

  1
6

  Kaden

  I sense the moment blissful Rogan checks out and practical Rogan returns with a vengeance. He tenses in my hold and his breathing loses those slow, shallow qualities that nearly lulled me to sleep right here on the floor of my studio.

  It was fun while it lasted.

  “You okay?” I ask, knowing he’s not.

  Rogan isn’t the kind of person who will ignore the bombs his meddling ex had dropped this morning about me and who I used to be. Or what that means for us. Considering what he’s been through lately, I get that. I do. That doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to this conversation and its inevitable conclusion.

  “I guess.” He sighs then shakes his head. “Honestly, no. Not really.”

  I don’t bother to play dumb and assume he’s talking about his arm or the rough sex we just indulged in. Neither of us believes that’s the problem here.

  I try to head him off. “Do we have to discuss this?”

  He considers, then says, “I think so, don’t you?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Rogan looks at me then. The disappointment in his gaze hits me hard in the gut. Is it because he thinks less of me now that he knows what I used to be into or is it because I didn’t blab my whole sexual history in between getting blown and fucking him last night?

  Okay, that’s not fair. I’m not very rational when it comes to examining these parts of myself, never mind sharing them with a guy I’m getting uncomfortably attached to faster than the paint on his portrait can dry.

  He climbs out of my lap and attempts to hike his pants back up.

  “Here, let me…” I reach over and set his briefs in place, zip his fly and buckle his belt. I should have thought about how that makes him entirely dressed and ready to walk right out of my life. Which he might do any second. Especially if this discussion doesn’t go well.

  And I don’t see how it can.

  I get to my feet and fix myself before meeting his level stare.

  “Are you going to tell me what Ronaldo was talking about this morning?” he asks point blank.