“I can practically hear you thinking,” I said when the silence had beat on for a few minutes. “The wheels in your heads are spinning. You’re curious as to why you’re sitting there silently while I stare at you. It doesn’t make sense, does it? This strange hold I have over you?”
Two sets of green eyes—one light, one dark—leveled on my face.
“You’re wondering what I want to do to you, whether or not I’ll give in to those impulses, the urge to beat you down until you’re shattered and broken.”
Neither man moved.
“I can see it in your eyes. You would do anything I told you to do. No matter how perverted or depraved it may seem. In fact, you’re eager for me to hurt and humiliate you the way I did before, only this time, you’re thinking no holds barred. You want me to unleash on you, to show you a world of agony you’ve never experienced, to help you come to terms with why you are the way you are.”
I watched them for a moment, enjoying the fear I could see. The way their chests expanded rapidly, their throats working as they swallowed the fear back. I fed off that trepidation. It made me invincible. Especially when dealing with two large males who likely didn’t submit to anyone other than the Dominant who could give them what they craved.
“Trust me,” I told them. “I’ve considered it.”
That was hope glittering in their eyes, and I had the need to quash it before it grew wings and took flight. It was true, these two were quite possibly stronger than any masochist I’d dealt with before, but I knew they could never handle me. They were all looking for the same thing. A sadistic bastard who would beat on them, then cuddle them close and shower them with praise. I wasn’t that man.
I would never be that man.
I locked eyes with the pretty boy. “I’ve played with you. I know what you need. Pain, hot and fresh, searing your flesh until your fucking cock’s so goddamn hard you’re blinded with the need to come. But you don’t know what true pain is. It’s not only physical, pretty boy. The mental aspect will wear you down. The wrath I would inflict on you would have you cowering in a corner, begging for mercy. I’d give you two days tops.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, his tone firm, far too self-assured for his own good.
“Am I?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“And how can you be so sure?”
He didn’t so much as flinch before he answered. “Because no one has come close to scratching the itch. You got me off. Sure. And I suffered greatly in a way I’d only dreamed about. But it wasn’t nearly enough.”
I was surprised by his admission and not at all disappointed.
“And you, cowboy? What in the ever-loving fuck would you want from me?”
He swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “Whatever you’re willing to give me, Zeke.”
“No matter how filthy? How disgusting? Because, little boy, my mind knows no bounds. My fantasies scare the devil himself.”
The cowboy’s chin tilted up slightly. “I would give you everything that I am, Zeke.”
I glanced over at the pretty boy. “Do you like hearing that? Knowing your boyfriend’s willing to bend over and let me fuck him rough and hard while you watch? Does it turn you on?”
“It does. Yes.” The hard ridge behind his zipper said he wasn’t lying.
I leaned back and regarded them. That had been a test. One I was surprised they passed. Most submissives started to cower, then beg. Only once had I found a submissive who had the balls to stand up to me. But he and I didn’t see eye to eye. Apparently, I wasn’t the man he needed.
I picked up the keys and tossed them to the pretty boy.
“Get settled in. We’ll meet at three to walk through the restaurant with the contractor. Tonight, you’ll meet me at Dichotomy so we can discuss this some more. At that point, if I think you’re worth my time, I’ll let you know.”
I motioned toward the door.
“You’re dismissed.”
“Thank you, Zeke,” they both said at the same time before getting to their feet and heading for the door.
I stared at the space they’d vacated for a long time afterward, wondering just how far they would let me go before they decided I wasn’t worth even the most wicked orgasm.
That time would come.
It always did.
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
ONCE WE GOT THE KEYS, Brax and I went back down to the car to grab the things we’d brought with us. Nothing more than a couple of bags with necessities, two suitcases full of clothes, and pillows. We still needed to buy a blow-up mattress so we weren’t obligated to sleep on the floor until our things arrived next Thursday.
During the entire round trip to the garage and then back up to the apartment, neither of us said anything.
Not a single word.
Although, the silence spoke volumes.
My head was spinning from the unexpected conversation with Zeke. The fear he’d instilled in me was liquid fire in my veins, fueling a desire I’d done my best to repress for so long now. I wanted what that man could offer me and I was willing to do damn near anything to get it.
It wasn’t until we stepped inside the apartment that all thoughts of that conversation fled and I was once again filled with that absurd feeling of being trapped inside a box. I’d felt it last week when we came to look at the apartment, but I had shrugged it off. Mostly. It was now back with a vengeance, making it difficult to breathe. The walls felt as though they were closing in, pushing all the air out.
Which was strange when I thought about it. I didn’t have an issue with restraints of any kind. Chains, cuffs, suspension, stockade. In the clubs, I’d done it all and not once had I ever panicked, nor had I ever felt too restricted, confined. I’d go so far as to say the restraints heightened the sensation for me. The fear they instilled was welcome.
This—being inside a box within a box high up in the sky—made me desperate for air, as though my lungs couldn’t fill fast enough. I couldn’t stand to see so many walls and not nearly enough windows, no doors to the outside, no way to break free if necessary.
Back in Dallas, Brax and I had lived in a house. Nothing fancy. Three bedrooms, one bathroom, postage-stamp-sized yard. But when I stepped out the door, I was instantly greeted with fresh air. Here, I ended up in a hallway that led to an elevator, a maze I had to overcome before I ever broke free.
I wasn’t sure I could go through with this.
“Hey.” Brax’s concerned tone had me turning to face him as I dumped my bag on the kitchen counter. “You okay?”
“Nope,” I admitted. “Not even a little bit.”
He must’ve realized I was serious, because the next thing I knew, Brax was up in my face, his big, warm hands curled around my neck, gently kneading the muscles there. He was frowning, his warm gaze scanning every inch as though the answer might possibly be written somewhere on my face.
“Case. Look at me,” he insisted. “Take a deep breath.”
I tried, but I couldn’t focus. My lungs were racing to fill, but nothing seemed to be coming in. My hands were numb and my body felt heavy. Too heavy. My gaze darted to the bedroom door behind him and more trepidation filled me.
“Breathe, babe,” Brax stated firmly. “You’re gonna be fine.”
I shook my head, gripping his shirt in my hand. “I’m not.” I was fucking gasping for air, and though I knew it was ridiculous, I couldn’t seem to stop.
“You are.” He didn’t sound convinced. “I promise. Just breathe. Slowly.”
“I…” I swallowed hard, the air somehow suffocating even as it moved through my lungs. “I need to go outside.”
“All right,” he said quickly, taking my hand. “Let’s go outside. We’ll take a walk.”
I nodded and allowed him to lead me out of the apartment. He locked the door, then steered me to the elevator. Minutes felt like days but then we were finally outside. I stumbled over to a rock wall and perched my ass on t
he edge. I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. People passing by glanced my way, a few seemingly concerned although no one stopped. Damn big city.
My hands were shaking, but at least the air didn’t seem so scarce out here. It wasn’t much better, but it wasn’t worse, either. I hated the concrete jungle that was the city. I wanted to see grass and trees, not parking meters and storefronts on every side of the road. Car emissions made me feel as though I was choking.
Brax stood beside me, his warm hand on my back. I could tell he wanted to do something but he likely didn’t know what. Hell, I didn’t know, either.
Cars passed, horns blaring, people shouting. There was so much traffic, so many people. Why had we thought this was a good idea? I would’ve given anything to go back to Texas, to drive down a winding country road, the windows rolled down, wind in my face. Here I had to settle for a chilly breeze that smelled like gasoline and concrete and did nothing to cool me down.
“Let’s take a walk,” Brax said as he motioned me toward the sidewalk.
“Yeah. Okay.” I pushed to my feet and straightened my spine. I took a few steps, then a few more, allowing Brax to steer me where he wanted me to go.
“There’s a coffee shop around the corner,” he told me, glancing at his watch. “We’ve got half an hour before we have to meet Zeke at the restaurant. We can get some coffee and relax for a few minutes.”
I didn’t drink coffee but Brax knew that. He drank it, though. By the gallons. I liked to give him shit about it because I could. It was one of his few vices.
We turned the corner and I inhaled deeply, finally feeling the sun shining down on me, warming the air as it peeked through the horde of buildings and the thick, gloomy clouds. I wasn’t watching where I was going, making sure my feet were moving, trusting Brax to lead me safely, so I came up short when I slammed into his back.
“What’s wr—” I cut myself off when I looked up to see Zeke standing in front of us.
He was frowning, his black eyes scanning my face.
“What’s wrong with you, pretty boy?” I was almost certain there was a hint of concern in his tone.
“He just needed some air,” Brax explained, his apprehensive gaze bouncing back and forth between me and Zeke.
The dark slashes of Zeke’s brows didn’t shift. Clearly he wasn’t convinced.
I pointed toward the sky. “I’ve got an issue with apartments,” I admitted. “Gonna take some getting used to.”
“What kind of issue?” His words came out slowly, as though he was still wrapping his head around the term.
I shrugged and Zeke looked at Brax.
“He has an issue with confined spaces. Apartments to be very specific. As we just learned.”
“You claustrophobic?”
I shook my head. “No, actually. Well, I hadn’t thought so. It’s the idea of being locked in a box with no means of escape.” It sounded stupid even as I tried to explain it, although deep in my soul I knew I was admitting something I’d never admitted to anyone before.
“There’s an elevator and stairs,” Zeke stated, as though I hadn’t already thought of that.
“I know.” I shrugged again. “I’m sure it’ll pass once I get used to it.”
“You ever live in an apartment before?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Visited one?” he questioned.
“Well, yeah. But most apartments in Texas have exterior doors.” And stairs that led down to grass.
“You’ve lived in Texas your whole life?”
“Nope.” I did the math in my head. I was twenty-eight. We moved there when I was fourteen. I smiled. “Just half my life.”
Whether Zeke was buying my excuse or not, I couldn’t tell. However, he did glance at Brax, who held up his phone. “I was going to get coffee.”
Zeke nodded. “There’s a dog park around the corner. Meet us over there when you’re done.”
Brax glanced at me. I nodded, not sure what else to do.
“Sure. Can I get you anything?” he offered.
“I’m good. Get the pretty boy some water.”
“Will do.”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed and Brax must’ve realized how he sounded because he quickly amended his response with a “Yes, Zeke.” Without looking back at me, he took off down the street.
I didn’t know what to do or why Zeke felt it was necessary to split us up, but I was still focused on taking deep, cleansing breaths. My chest was looser than before, the panic abated, and my hands had stopped trembling. I considered that a good sign.
“Were you coming back?” I asked. It made sense because Zeke had been walking toward us.
“It doesn’t matter. Walk,” Zeke commanded and I did. “How long’ve you had this problem?”
“Just today,” I told him. “Seriously. It’s only this building. I’m not big on the city, and I guess it closed in around me.” I was sure I was being overly dramatic. Then again, I hadn’t faked the panic attack. “I probably just need some sleep. It’s been a long couple of days.”
“Interesting. I would’ve pegged the cowboy to have issues with the city.”
Yeah. Me, too. After all, Brax’s family did live on a small farm, complete with goats and pigs and a couple of horses. I loved spending time at his parents’ house, helping with the animals. I hadn’t grown up like that, but the suburbs always felt like home for me. Less people.
We made it half a block before things opened up. The buildings gave way to trees, concrete morphing into an abundance of grass. I finally managed to relax, the tension in my shoulders easing.
What the hell was I going to do? How the fuck was I supposed to live here if I couldn’t even go inside the apartment? I knew Brax was only doing it because it was free rent, and until we got a feel for the area, he didn’t want to find a more permanent residence. Not that I blamed him.
Brax was the rational one in our relationship. He managed our money with the skill of an accountant, investing when necessary, saving as much as he could while still allowing us to live a comfortable life where we enjoyed being able to do things.
“Sit,” Zeke commanded.
I did and it was about the time my ass hit the park bench that I realized he had been talking to Tank, not me.
“Obedient.” He chuckled.
Yeah. It appeared I was.
FIVE
ZEKE
SEEING THE PRETTY BOY’S PANIC-STRICKEN face brought back memories of my mother. The first time I recalled her having a claustrophobia-induced panic attack had been when I was twelve. My baby sister—two at the time—had been sick with a weird, almost strangling cough. Croup, I think they’d called it. My mother had asked me to go to the doctor with them to help out. I was big at twelve and carried Jamie around almost everywhere we went.
It was a regular trip, nothing out of the ordinary. We piled into my mother’s Ford Taurus. Although she was worried about Jamie, she was in good spirits, chattering on about nothing, a smile on her face. Right up until we walked into the building and approached the elevator. I’d known immediately that my mother wasn’t eager to get in. Perhaps it had been a premonition, but a few minutes later, we got inside, the doors closing securely behind us.
About thirty seconds into the ride up, there was an abrupt jerk and the elevator stopped suddenly, the lights flickering, then going out before some sort of backup light clicked on. My mother had let out a panicked gasp. I thought nothing of it, moving to the buttons, wondering whether or not it would start if I simply pressed the one for our floor again. It didn’t. I punched it several more times with the same result. Nothing.
Jamie had fallen asleep on my shoulder at that point, clinging to my neck, her body—warm with fever—making me sweat. Still, I remained calm, trying to figure out how to fix the situation. My mother, on the other hand, wasn’t faring so well. I looked over to see her pressed up against one of the walls, her fingers curled around the thin metal bar behind her. When she started gasping for breath, I
knew something was wrong.
“Distract me, baby,” she had pleaded. “Please, Zeke.”
To this day, I could still hear the terror in her usually sweet tone.
Not sure what she wanted me to do, I had walked over and stood in front of her. “Count backwards from ten, Momma.”
She had. Twice.
“Now the alphabet,” I had suggested. “Starting with J.”
That had been one of the toughest days in my childhood. Watching my mother, the fear in her eyes, her voice trembling. A man’s voice had come over the speaker advising they were aware of the issue and looking into it immediately. I’d wanted to tell him to hurry, but I knew to remain calm.
Someone had to.
Luckily, the elevator had kicked a few minutes later, then began its ascent to the higher floors. A short time later, my mother was stumbling out of the elevator, her face pale, hands trembling. It had taken another fifteen minutes before she was able to breathe regularly and the tremors in her fingers stopped.
From that day forward, my mother never took an elevator again.
Seeing the pretty boy’s face as he stumbled along behind the cowboy had stirred something inside me. A strange urge to protect him from whatever had put that terror-filled look in his eyes. At the same time, I wondered how he would fare in the cage beneath my bed. I’d purchased it with the intention of utilizing the confinement but hadn’t yet had the chance. However, in recent days, I’d entertained the notion of putting the pretty boy and the cowboy in there, keeping them safe while I slept.
Now, as we strolled into the dog park—the same one Tank and I had left only a few minutes earlier—I wondered why the fuck I’d bothered to get involved. This wasn’t like me. I wasn’t prone to worrying about anyone who wasn’t Jamie.
Good news was the pretty boy was getting some of his color back. Now that he was sitting, I didn’t have to worry that he would fall over.
“You stay there,” I told him. “Tank, looks like it’s your lucky day. Let’s play ball.”
That word ball had Tank’s ears perking up.
As I strolled across the park, I didn’t look back, refused to be concerned for the pretty boy. He wasn’t my problem. The last thing I needed to do was concern myself with his well-being. It would ruin everything. No way could I play with those boys if they thought I gave a shit about them. That was only asking for trouble. I’d been down that road before. Submissives who thought I was denying my feelings when, in actuality, I didn’t have any. Not for them.
Their Ruthless Sadist (Office Intrigue, 5) Page 6
