Flying Free (Rough Love Book 8)

by Leighton Greene

  Xander fucks him; he doesn’t fuck Xander—not without a series of heavy boundaries and discussions, anyway.

  And Xander was right about it at the party. Ben is getting antsy about things.

  “Anyway,” Xander is saying, “I gave him Jon’s phone number. I figured that was the best thing to do. Jon can do some networking with him, make sure he’s safe. Because I have to say, Byron is one hot piece of ass with stunning levels of naïveté. Someone is going to totally fuck him over if he doesn’t get a clue.”

  “Yeah. Jon—that was a good idea. You think Byron was hot?”

  “Totally, in that twinky way. You have good taste.”

  Ben has to smile. “You include yourself in my good taste?”

  “Hell, yes.” Xander props himself up on an elbow, the sheet still over them. The light shining through it makes everything seem bright and clear. Xander traces a finger over Ben’s mouth. “Also I was thinking…do you still need all those books you bought when you were researching stuff?”

  Ben feels his cheeks color up a little. “You mean my extensive Gay, Bi or Kinky collection? I was thinking of donating it to the Smithsonian as a relic of Early Ballard History. So no, I don’t need them. Practice has overtaken theory. Why?”

  “I thought we could give them to Byron, if you didn’t want them anymore, and if you think they helped. Just the kink ones. He seemed pretty clear on his sexual preferences.”

  Ben still feels like his privacy has been invaded, but it sounds like it really was an accident. And Byron seems like a nice kid. Confused, like Ben was when he first started out. Like Ben still is sometimes, although it’s getting better. “Okay. That’s a good idea. We can give them to Jon to pass on.”

  “If Byron calls him. But I think he will. You know, he wondered if we could be, uh, friends with him. I told him it wasn’t really appropriate.”

  “God, no.”

  “He thought it was because I wanted you to remember your place.” Xander gives a laugh.

  “Don’t you?” Ben tries not to sound annoyed, but Xander picks up on the undercurrent.

  “You don’t have a place, Ballard. Not on your knees and not on a pedestal, either. We’re equals. Just two guys trying to make things work between us.”

  Yeah. When Xander says stuff like that, all the bad feelings, all the uncertainty falls away, and Ben is reminded of why they do all that stuff in the first place.

  “It feels good,” he says, and pulls Xander down to kiss him fiercely. “Come on, then,” he says, afterwards. “Scare me. Cut me. Do terrible things to me. All this waiting is making me jumpy.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “But—”

  “Baby, there’s no way in hell I’m going to link your bad feelings about tonight to that knife. I like you scared when you see it, but not horrified or upset. Now come on,” Xander says, pulling the sheet off them both and sitting up against the bed head. He holds out his arms, and when Ben does nothing but give him a baleful look, pulls at him. “You’re like a dead weight,” he complains, and finally Ben gets up, grumbling. “Come on, on top of me—no, move your legs. Come on, help me help you.”

  Ben ends up sitting on top of Xander, face to face, arms slung around his neck. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you feel good. Oh, you don’t believe me? You’re feeling too raw for anything intense right now.” Xander pulls him down to kiss at his nose, over his cheeks and eyelids until Ben starts to relax.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I feel…exposed.” Their cocks are nestled together, his soft and slumping over Xander’s, which is hard and getting harder. The sight makes his own dick give a twitch of interest.

  “I have this fantasy,” Xander purrs, biting at Ben’s bottom lip.

  “What is it?” Ben is expecting pain, fear, maybe blood.

  “I think about sucking you while you’re still soft like this and feeling you get hard in my mouth, filling out against my tongue. I rarely get to do that, though—you get hard so fast. It’s very flattering, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something satisfying about feeling you grow in my mouth like that.”

  “You could try now,” Ben suggests immediately.

  “Nope. You’re already halfway there.” They both look down again and Ben grins.

  “Sorry,” he says. “You’re just too hot. Blame my good taste in men.”

  Xander kisses him for a while, slowly, drawing it out until Ben feels like they’ve built a furnace between them, like Xander’s fingers are singeing his skin where he touches, drawing trails of fire on his forearms when he runs his nails down the muscles. “Get up for a bit, kneel over me,” Xander says at last, and Ben obeys. The cool lube against his asshole is a shock after feeling so warm, but Xander just swallows Ben’s grunt of surprise and pushes a gentle finger inside him.

  Everything is gentle. It’s the complete antithesis of what they’d planned, but Ben is grateful for it. Xander is careful and slow, opening him up with methodical fingers far beyond what Ben thinks is necessary, but for once he’s not impatient. The extra care Xander takes is making him feel better. Less vulnerable.

  Secure.

  Xander even lets him stay on top this time, which means Ben can control the speed and depth of their fucking. Ben breathes out, deep and slow, as Xander pushes into him, and the feeling of fullness is both physical and mental.

  “Thank you,” he says, when it becomes clear that Xander is letting him set his own pace, but Xander just kisses him again. Ben knows what he’s doing. They both know. Xander’s hand plays over him, long, unhurried strokes that build and build, winding Ben tight a coiled spring.

  When he’s close, he grabs at Xander’s hand, stopping it. “You first,” he says.

  “Watch,” Xander says, palming Ben’s face and making him focus. “Watch me.” Ben grabs at Xander’s shoulders and squeezes his muscles around Xander’s cock, twisting his hips, and watches. He watches what it does to Xander, watches the dark eyes go wide and then flutter shut, the color washing across his cheeks, the way his mouth opens automatically, lips drawing back, teeth clashing together on nothing. Ben can still feel Xander’s cock pulsing inside him, and after a second Xander starts jacking him again, breathing heavily, his forehead sticky against the side of Ben’s neck.

  This time he bites. When Ben shoots, spurting over both of them because they’re pressed up close together, Xander bites into his shoulder with a sound of relief, and Ben finds himself laughing.

  The one positive about what Ben has come to think of as ‘normal’ sex between them—as opposed to play—is that the clean-up time and aftercare are much, much quicker. They lie wrapped up in each other, drowsy, and Xander brings up Byron again.

  “He reminded me of you, just a little. The kind of things you used to say in the beginning.”

  “Fuck you,” Ben says, squirming, and Xander chuckles. “I bet you were just as clueless when you started out.”

  Xander stops laughing, bites his lips. “I was awful. You know what I was like.”

  “Mad, bad and dangerous to know, huh? Just like Lord Byron.”

  “Something like that.” Xander looks uncomfortable. “That’s a very kind way of putting it, though.”

  “You still haven’t fully forgiven yourself?”

  “I’m getting there. It’s a process.”

  They stop talking, sleep soundly. And in the morning when he wakes, Ben doesn’t shrug off Xander’s long limbs wrapped around him, or remove the hot, clingy fingers from his wrist like he usually does, with a smile and a sigh.

  Because this morning it doesn’t make him feel claustrophobic. This morning it makes him feel cherished.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A week later, Ben waits for the Gay Subs Club members at their usual watering hole. Ben has arrived early just to have a little time by himself. He loves living with Xander—no regrets at all—but it does mean his introvert man-cave time is a little curtailed these days.

  He’s not the only early arriv
al, though. Landry also turns up before everyone else, and slides into his seat before Ben even sees him.

  “Hey!” Ben greets him, pulling him in for a one-armed back-slap hug. Then he sees Landry’s accessory. “Wow, man—new collar?”

  “Sort of,” Landry says, and flushes. He looks anxious.

  “That’s really great, man,” Ben hurries to assure him. “I didn’t even realize you were seeing someone new. But I’m really happy for you.”

  Ben has learned more about the guys in the group over the months. He’s learned about Oliver’s passion for clubbing—in fact, he works as a cage boy at the same club Ben tried out for ages ago, and Ben has to admit, Ollie makes a much better Go-Go dancer than he ever would. He’s heard more than he ever really wanted to know about Brandon’s leather fetish, and Landry’s broken heart after The One That Got Away, and Jon’s dissatisfaction generally with the dating scene in LA.

  But the group has been very supportive to Ben after all the blind items—even Oliver and Brandon refrained from questioning him too closely, especially after he got dumped by the studio. And Landry was usually the one who steered the conversation away from those touchy topics, so Ben wants to make sure he’s there for Landry if needed.

  “Maybe it’s private for now?” he suggests to Landry. “I get it, man. Xander and I are pretty private, too.”

  “Yes,” Landry says. “You are. Jon said Xander was picking you up again? It’s so sweet how he does that for you. Like he actually takes care of you.”

  It’s the most words Ben thinks he’s ever heard Landry say in one go, although he’s not 100% sure what Landry means with his inflection. That Ben is the one who should be taking care of Xander? Sometimes when people get collared, Ben has discovered, they get a tad rigid about things. Rules. Protocols. Roles.

  Perhaps Landry’s new-collar-rush is making him a little fundamentalist about it all.

  “Well, you know Xander and I don’t have a full-time dynamic,” Ben points out. “We’re just, you know, normal boyfriends. Partners. With some kink on the side. Anyway, yeah, he’ll be picking me up later.”

  “It will be nice to see him again.”

  Jon arrives then, followed rapidly by Ollie and Brandon, who always seem to be joined at the hip. “When’s Jasper coming?” Brandon demands, rather than saying hi.

  “Jesus, calm your tits,” Jon tells him, rolling his eyes at Ben.

  “His name is not Jasper,” Landry says sharply, his glasses flashing blank white in the lights as he glares at Brandon.

  “Dom X, whatever,” Oliver says. “Is he coming? We need to debrief after that fucking amazeballs season finale!”

  “Just calling him Xander is fine. And yes, he’ll be picking me up later. But you know he can’t really say anything about the show.” Ben gives a smirk, since he happens to know exactly what Xander’s contract for next season of The Hunter stipulates.

  Xander will have only two special guest appearances, but he’s also getting his own Jasper Crane spin-off limited series which will film right here in LA. Turns out Jasper did escape from prison in the series finale. Ben hopes Pete Jones, PI, enjoyed the finale, too.

  Last they heard from him, he did drop off to Karl the details of the client who hired him, but neither Xander nor Ben recognized the name: Stephen L. Billings. No known social media. There’s an address, but Xander and Ben haven’t gone by to check it out yet. They’ve had other things to worry about—much more fun things, like filming Blood Bond, and besides, the blinds seem to have dried up, and there have been no further texts since Xander changed his number.

  In his contract negotiations for The Hunter, Xander also demanded time off for promoting Blood Bond later next year. And what Xander wants, Xander gets, Ben reflects with a happy little shiver. It was weird at first to work with Xander, to be the boss of Xander, since Ben has been directing him in Blood Bond. Xander has been utterly professional—not that Ben thought he wouldn’t be—but it just makes it easier to know that Xander takes his direction with good humor and even humility.

  Also, Xander is just really fucking good at his job, and Ben loves to watch his acting choices, the way he moves, the way his face catches the light though the camera viewer, the way he can play a dark and violent character without remotely resembling the way he is when they play together privately.

  He was worried at first that he’d feel like he was trading on Xander’s success again, but it’s not like that at all, not with Elijah and Dean as actual producers, and real contracts with real stipulations and real money involved. Ben has been faintly surprised at how good Elijah and Dean are at what they do—and relieved. The indie production of Blood Bond is getting a lot of buzz around town.

  All in all, Ben has mused more than once, those blind items and losing his job with the studio were the best thing that could have happened to him.

  He wishes his good fortune could have extended its way to Jon as well. Jon’s Daddy turned out to be an asshole, much to Ben’s non-surprise, though of course he didn’t say that. The guy has picked himself up a new, younger model, and within a few days last week, Jon has found himself Daddyless, homeless, and jobless.

  Homeless has been easy enough to fix, since Brandon and Ollie snapped him up immediately and moved him onto their sofa. But Ben can see Jon has been blindsided by it all. He offered Jon an FX role on Blood Bond as soon as he heard the news, so that’s helping on the job front, although the filming will only run for a few weeks, and after that, Jon will have to get out there and find the next job. And sadly, Jon is very much not in hustling mode right now.

  “How are you?” Ben asks Jon in an undertone, as Brandon and Oliver wax lyrical about Jasper Crane. Ben is acutely aware again of how he felt when he and Xander had their break-up, and would hate to think Jon is going through anything like that.

  “Eh,” Jon says, waggling a flat hand back and forth. “Middling. I was a fool to move in with that small-dicked geriatric, and I wish I’d kept my own place.”

  “You booked anything after Blood Bond?”

  Jon gives a shrug and a smile. “I’m thinking I might take some time off. I’ve got a friend who works as a caretaker on an estate over on the east coast, and he wants to visit family for Christmas and New Year, so he suggested I cover his job while he’s away.”

  “Brr,” Ben says. “Also, maybe lonely?”

  “I don’t know,” Jon says. “I’ve always wanted to have a real White Christmas. Guess I’ll finally get to have one this year. I could use some time alone, too. It’ll be nice to decompress away from LA, watch some old movies, that kind of thing. Find myself, all that shit.”

  Both of them wince as Ollie gives a particularly piercing shriek next to them. “You know you can always crash on our sofa instead if you need to,” Ben says, straight-faced, and Jon, finally, gives a laugh.

  “Thanks, Benny-boy, but I don’t know if I could handle your sickening love-fest any better than the reality-TV hive going on with these two losers.” He thumbs over his shoulder at Oliver and Brandon, who are completely oblivious.

  Landry, too, looks like he’s getting a headache from the noise.

  “Okay, okay,” Ben says loudly. “Who’s getting the next round?”

  Halfway through that next round, Oliver and Brandon finally notice Landry’s collar. “Oh, my God!” Brandon squeals, his eyes big and round, and points an accusing finger at Landry’s neck. “You naughty little bitch, you never said anything!”

  “You didn’t notice!” Ben breaks in, determined to have Landry’s back. The poor guy has gone tomato-red.

  “Who? Who put it on you?” Oliver demands, delighted. “Oh, my God, I want a collar so bad. Does your Dom have a friend, maybe? Ooh, is your Dom as hot as Xander?”

  “Don’t do anything dumb, like give up your apartment,” Jon advises bitterly. “Although I guess at least a collar is a sign of commitment—not that I ever got one from Daddy Tiny Dick.”

  To Ben’s dismay, Landry’s eyes fill with tear
s behind his glasses. Even Oliver and Brandon look bewildered by Landry’s reaction, so Ben rushes in to change the subject, and asks: “Hey, Jon, how’s Byron getting along?”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s great,” Jon says, just as quickly. “We met up for coffee so I could screen him, but he seems really genuine. He was so happy to get those books you and Xander sent.”

  After a few minutes, Ben excuses himself to the bathroom, where he texts Xander.

  Urgent Dom X cameo requested!! So awk. Will tell u all later.

  At least it will take the heat off Landry if Xander makes an appearance. The reply is a speedy and reassuring: omw

  Ben goes back out, where conversation is stilted and faltering, and asks Oliver how the club dancing is going. At least that gets Oliver talking, and fills in the silence.

  Thankfully, Xander turns up fifteen minutes later. “How are all my favorite subs?” he asks them teasingly, after kissing Ben hello.

  Oliver and Brandon look relieved to see him, and even Jon perks up at his arrival, although Landry still says nothing, and stares moodily at the tabletop. The conversation about The Hunter revives, and Xander, with a smug smile and in a hushed voice, tells them about the Jasper Crane spin-off. Ben guesses the official announcement must have been made today.

  “So your career’s going great,” Landry unexpectedly bursts out in the middle of Oliver and Brandon’s screams of joy. “Really fantastic, huh?”

  Xander looks across at Landry, surprised, and Ben’s muscles all tense up. What the fuck is going on with the guy today?

  Everyone else seems to feel the same, because Oliver and Brandon immediately start talking, but it’s Jon’s voice that carries. “Our Landry has a brand new collar,” he says brightly, and everyone looks at Landry.

  And Landry gives an oddly challenging look at Xander, whose face, as Ben watches, moves from polite pretend-interest to frowning to—something terrible.

  Ollie and Brandon, who have been talking over each other to explain what little they know about the new collar, fall into silence at the look on Xander’s face.