“When he gets home tonight, I fully intend to apologize,” I told Case. “I’m gonna own up to my mistake and ask for his forgiveness.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Case’s tone was threaded with pain. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I know that.” I pulled him into me. “And that’s all I ever wanted for you, too.”
I pressed my lips to his, sighing at the comfort I felt in his arms. This man made me feel things I’d never felt before. The same way Zeke made me feel things.
And yes, I was man enough to acknowledge that I was jealous of what I’d witnessed. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn’t simply jealous of the way Case opened up to Zeke. I was also jealous of the attachment Zeke had seemed to form with him. I wanted that. For whatever reason, I wanted Zeke to want me the same way.
Perhaps it made me a glutton for punishment, or maybe it simply made me human. I didn’t know. However, it was the truth.
And the only way for us to move forward was for me to own up to what I did. To admit it to Zeke and promise to remember our original agreement going forward.
Whatever we were doing here—the three of us—it wasn’t time for it to end. I got the weird feeling there was a lot more in store for us. And I had to see it through.
Not just for Case and Zeke.
But also for myself.
TWENTY
ZEKE
I WASN’T ONE TO HANG around the office when I didn’t have things to do; however, I found myself not wanting to go back to my house, not wanting to face the cowboy or the pretty boy.
For the better part of the afternoon, I’d given a lot of thought to how I needed to handle the situation with them. I figured it would be in their best interest if I cut them loose now. The selfish side of me wanted to lock them up and keep them for a while longer. To indulge in what they were offering for as long as possible.
Except, I wasn’t a selfish man. I knew better than to encourage something that had no possibility of ending without a fallout. They were fun to play with, but like any toy, it was only a matter of time before I would discard them in lieu of something with more glitter and intrigue.
For the past four years, that was exactly what I’d done. I had indulged my desires. Sought the fuck toys who knew the score. I had kept my distance and it was working for me. Or it had been. Until them. For whatever reason, I was drawn to them.
And damn Trent Ramsey for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He was the one who had set me on this path by putting the two of them in front of me. Before I’d found myself confronting them on Trent’s private jet, I had managed to keep my distance. The couple of times I’d seen the pretty boy at the club, I had forced myself to limit my interactions with him. Even the cowboy. While I wanted to beat on the pretty boy because that was what he wanted, the cowboy triggered a different desire in me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t ready for this to be over.
But, again, I wasn’t a selfish man. I had no right to keep them when I knew in the end it would all work out the same. They would go their own way, and I would be back to being alone. Stuck in my own private hell of solitude and destruction.
On the drive back to my place, I considered calling Jamie, seeing if she wanted to come over for dinner. With her there, I could make a clean break with my fuck toys. Let the cowboy and the pretty boy know that I had too many balls in the air to continue this. They would understand because they had to. I wouldn’t give them a choice.
Before I dialed my sister’s number, I remembered Langston mentioning she was going to the club with Greg tonight. If I called her now, she would think I was trying to get in the middle of that. And while I had no desire for her to go to the club, I wasn’t that much of an asshole. I’d set this thing in motion, the least I could do was see it through.
So, I kept my hands on the steering wheel and my eyes on the road. Tank sat in the back seat, sighing every so often. I wondered if he could sense my mood, the tension that had taken over my body. Maybe I could simply hide out in my gym for a while. I would tell the fuck toys they should pack up their things, and while they did that, I would work off some of this restless energy.
Of course, the mere thought of the basement had my warped and twisted brain coming up with other ideas. I could simply take the pretty boy and the cowboy down there and work out some of my frustrations on them. They would be willing because that was why they were there.
“This is bullshit,” I grumbled as I pulled down the long, winding driveway that led up to my house. “This is the very reason I don’t do this shit.”
I hated where my head was at. Hated that the cowboy had put me in that predicament yesterday. Hated myself for falling for it. I had kissed him in an effort to taunt the pretty boy and it had backfired in my face. I found myself daydreaming about kissing him again. Tying him to my bed, letting loose on his body while I took my own pleasure. He would give himself freely because that was the agreement we’d made.
And all the while, he would be looking at me and wondering if I preferred the pretty boy.
Truth was, I didn’t have a preference. I wasn’t supposed to have a preference. I wanted them equally and for different reasons. The pretty boy struck my sadistic fancy. I wanted to explore his pain, to see how deep it ran. However, when it came to the cowboy, I didn’t see his pain as the end goal. Sure, I’d spanked his ass and used various torture devices on him, but I could tell the hurt wasn’t what got him off. He enjoyed the humiliation.
Perhaps that was the reason he’d set himself up for failure? Seeing something that wasn’t there. Or was he a cuckold? Was he secretly enjoying the humiliation and degradation that came along with believing his boyfriend was being unfaithful?
When I pulled up to the house, I put the truck in park and stared out into the twilight. I let out a dull roar, angered by the situation. I needed to take back control. That was the only way I could operate effectively. If they thought for a second I might be caving, they would lose all respect for me.
After all, it had happened before.
With him. The last fuck toy I’d taken as my own. He was the reason I knew I would never fulfill anyone on a deeper level. I was as much a sex toy as the masochists were. He’d told me as much. I didn’t have a heart, only a deep-seated need to inflict pain. I wasn’t allowed to feel, to want more, to need more. If I ever stooped to that level, I was defying my role as the big, bad wolf, the evil lurking in the darkness, the alpha male, the primal seeking his prey, the man most men feared.
And that was what I was supposed to be.
According to him.
I wasn’t a man who needed love, a man who wanted to wake up to someone else in my bed. I wasn’t allowed to want those things because it negated my very purpose.
Over the years, my brain had worked diligently to blank out his face until he was merely a body I’d used for eighteen months. It had worked for him and for me.
Right up until I realized I’d fallen for him.
I’d given him more of myself than he’d ever wanted. When I called him my fuck toy, his eyes lit up with excitement. And when I called him by name, he shut down and sulked. He didn’t want to be mine in every sense of the word. He merely wanted me to use and abuse him. I wasn’t allowed to take more than I’d initially agreed to. And the day I told him I loved him, that I wanted every piece of him in return, he had sneered back at me, telling me I was weak and pathetic, just not in so many words. I wasn’t allowed to love because I was a monster. That hadn’t been the deal.
For a year and a half, I’d thought I was building something real, something lasting. I gave him what he needed and in return he gave me … nothing.
And that was the reason I couldn’t allow this to go any further. The cowboy was already seeking more, looking deeper than the surface. Jealousy was an emotion I couldn’t allow. It provoked feelings, desires that went deeper than pain. I had to end this
before it went too far. I could never be what either of them needed.
They wanted the Sadist, not the man beneath. They were content with each other and I had to respect that, not come between them. If I ever made the mistake of wanting more again, I would quickly learn my place.
Once had been enough for me.
It was time to move on. Back to the lackluster scenes, the submissives who didn’t want anything other than the pain I was capable of inflicting. That was my worth, the value they’d put on my head.
No one would ever love me, because if they did and I loved them back, I would no longer be the nightmare they dreamed about.
At that point, I was merely human.
The Sadist completed them.
The human was a failure.
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
“ZEKE’S HOME,” I TOLD BRAX when I heard the man’s truck pull into the driveway.
I strolled over to the window, watching as Zeke sat in his truck, his eyes forward, his hands gripping the wheel.
“Something’s wrong, Brax,” I muttered, unable to look away from the sight.
“What do you mean?” He stepped up beside me.
“He looks … upset.”
Brax took a deep breath. “He’s upset at me,” he said, as though that was the only logical explanation. “It’s time I fix this.”
I turned to the man I loved, watching his face, trying to read his mind. He’d been melancholy all day, sulking in a way I wasn’t familiar with. Whatever his reasons for provoking Zeke yesterday afternoon, he was regretting that he had.
“What are you gonna do?”
“Apologize.” He peered over at me. “Like I said, I owe it to him.”
My attention returned to the window when Brax started undressing right there in the living room. I watched Zeke, wondering what he was thinking about. He’d been pissed yesterday, storming out after his scene with Brax. He’d been prickly for the rest of the day, too. He’d sent Brax and me to bed early, instructing us to put on the chastity devices and sleep in the cage, but he didn’t join us.
At some point during the night, he must’ve come up, but I didn’t know when. This morning, when I woke, the door to the cage was still open. Zeke hadn’t locked it the way he normally did. When I finally shook off the desire to curl back up with Brax and sleep for a few more hours, I’d crawled out from under the bed to find Zeke gone. The sheets were in disarray, as though he’d slept there, but he wasn’t.
I found him in the gym a little while later, finishing up his workout. We’d been spending that first hour of the morning together in complete silence except for the few times I gave him tips for additional exercises that might interest him. He’d taken my suggestions with grace, smiling and thanking me after he worked to get the form down. We had found a way to coexist in peace during those times. I wasn’t the masochist and he wasn’t the Sadist. We were men who enjoyed one another’s company.
He had seemed almost human to me, a man beneath the monster.
Honestly, I’d enjoyed those moments as much as all the others. I liked seeing that side of Zeke. While I got off on his torture techniques and I actually enjoyed the fact that he wanted to keep us caged like animals from time to time, I did like seeing what was hidden beneath that hard outer layer. In fact, I had been looking forward to getting to know him better. Most people would see the sex and the scenes as a perversion, but for us, it was a way of life. We opened up during those moments. No shields, no barriers. And it was bringing us closer together.
Or so I’d thought.
Zeke suddenly opened his truck door and stepped out. He looked a little forlorn, as though he’d had a shit day. I glanced over to see Brax was already in position, naked and kneeling by the door, his head down.
I had no idea what to do. Was I supposed to give them a moment? Should I go upstairs? Downstairs? Sit on the couch? I had no idea what Brax needed from me right now, so I stood there like a dumb ass, unable to move, oddly fascinated to see how this would play out.
One more look out the window and I noticed Zeke waiting for Tank to do his business. When that was out of the way, they both headed for the house and I pivoted back to Brax.
The knob turned, the door opened. Tank trotted in, giving Brax a quick sniff before making a beeline for me. I squatted down to pet him as Zeke stepped into the house.
“What the fuck?” Zeke grumbled.
His words were clipped, an edge of anger I wasn’t familiar with. The Sadist was generally good-natured, which I figured was an oxymoron. He could dole out pain in a way that scared the shit out of me, but I sensed there was no anger fueling him. I’d been with a few Doms who had used that anger to drive their need to punish. But it was different with Zeke. He was creative with his scenes. He wasn’t simply beating on us because he could. He got off on it, and he enjoyed it as much as we did. The man didn’t hurt us because he was battling some internal rage.
I figured that was what made him the best of the best. You could trust Zeke with your safety. Give yourself over to him without worrying about the consequences. He took special care to heighten the senses, ratcheting up the fear and the need. Yet I never felt as though he would go too far. Believe it or not, that was a skill some Doms didn’t acquire. To be a Sadist, they had to be in the right headspace because it wasn’t about abuse. It was about the power exchange, the give and take from a Sadist to a masochist.
“Why’re you kneeling?” Zeke questioned as the front door closed behind him.
Those black eyes shot over to me, but I shrugged and looked away. This was between Brax and Zeke. While the three of us were involved, I knew Brax was taking responsibility for his actions yesterday. Whatever Zeke opted to do was up to him. I couldn’t be part of it, even if I wanted to.
“I owe you an apology, Zeke.”
I watched in awe, my stomach churning with fear. Fear for Brax. Fear for Zeke. I wasn’t sure either one of them knew what they were doing. I sensed Zeke was battling something internally while it was obvious Brax wanted a do-over. The question was, could we? Could we start over with Zeke? He already knew Brax wanted something he had never agreed to offer.
Not that I knew what that was. For the first time in the two years Brax and I had been together, I couldn’t read him. I wasn’t sure what his angle was. Did he simply want to submit to Zeke? Was he doing this for himself? Or was he being a martyr here? Giving Zeke and me what we needed? I wouldn’t put it past him. Brax was one of the most selfless men I’d ever met. He was so fucking good to me, sometimes I wondered how I’d gotten so lucky.
“What’re you apologizing for?” Zeke asked, his tone neutral.
“For my actions these past few days, Zeke. You deserve more from me.”
Zeke seemed to wave him off, as though what he was offering didn’t matter.
“It’s done and over, cowboy. I don’t care anymore.”
That had my back straightening. How could he be so aloof? Was I right? Was Zeke writing us off already?
“But I care,” Brax said, his head still down.
“And that’s the problem,” Zeke snapped, his eyes blazing with restrained fury. “You’re not supposed to fucking care. This isn’t about feelings, fuck toy.”
While his words said otherwise, I got the sneaking suspicion that Brax wasn’t the only one concerned about the direction this was headed. Try as we might, no one could predict how this would turn out. Sure, the three of us had walked into this with our eyes wide open.
So why did it feel as though everything was changing?
TWENTY-ONE
ZEKE
THE LAST THING I EXPECTED to find when I came home was a naked masochist kneeling in my entryway. I wanted to be angry at him for fucking this all up, but I had to respect his ability to own up to it. I hadn’t gone easy on him yesterday, even less last night when I dismissed them both.
In my defense, I had needed time to stew in my own frustration. I had gotten nothing out
of that scene. It was one of the rare times I’d been intent on punishing. That wasn’t the man I was. I didn’t do things because I was pissed. Those who said I did were ignorant. They knew nothing about me. And I liked it that way. It allowed me to keep my distance. That way I could pick and choose who I wanted to play with, and when they always expected the worst, they would never be disappointed.
However, I had no idea what the cowboy expected from me. Did he think I gave a shit that he’d pouted and sulked, jealous of something that wasn’t even there? Because I didn’t. He already had a relationship with the pretty boy. He didn’t need that from me. I was the instrument they were using to live out the fantasy. In the grand scheme of things, I was nothing. More importantly, I was temporary.
“Get up, fuck toy,” I demanded.
Brax slowly got to his feet, but he didn’t lift his head.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, glowering at him, my anger morphing into something potent.
“I deserve your punishment, Zeke,” he said softly.
“Punishment?” I barked a laugh. The cowboy was off his meds. No one in their right mind would ask me for punishment. The pain was for fun. It fueled the flames that lived within us all. Punishment at my hand was a world unlike anything they’d ever experienced before.
“Yes, Zeke,” he confirmed.
“Do you even know what you’re asking for?”
The cowboy’s eyes lifted to mine for the first time since I walked in the door.
“No, Zeke. But I still deserve it.”
I hated that I saw the truth in his eyes. The emerald depths glittered with honesty. He truly believed he wanted my punishment and it struck a chord deep down. I fought it back, refusing to give in to that niggling feeling. The one that had me wanting more, wanting to explore this to see if it could possibly be real. I knew better. It wasn’t real. And I wasn’t stupid.
“You understand my punishment is its own brand of hell? I’m not gonna play with your little dick or beat on you until you come. That’s not how it works. I reward good behavior. That’s the only time I’ll touch you.”
Their Ruthless Sadist (Office Intrigue, 5) Page 22
