Dangerous Games

by Claire Thompson

  “Over here, at Matt’s station,” Luca called, his heart kicking into gear at the sound of Reese’s sexy voice.

  Matt lifted his eyebrows inquiringly at Luca as Reese approached them. “Something I should know?” he asked, making a goofy face. “You and the new guy…?”

  Luca had never advertised that he was gay, but then, he’d never tried to hide it, either. Now he couldn’t help himself. He smiled and shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Matt slapped him heartily on the back. “Way to go, bro. I’d be gay for him—he’s that hot,” he teased. “Forget Dungeons and Dragons. I’m sure you have something better to do.” He nudged Luca playfully in the ribs.

  Reese appeared in front of them, his jacket slung casually over his shoulder, his silky golden blond hair falling appealingly over his forehead, looking every bit the GQ gentleman. “Hey there, Matt,” he said with a nod. But his smile was all for Luca. “Thought I’d still find you here. You about ready to head out?”

  “Sure. We were just finishing up here,” Luca said, pleased with how fluently he spoke in front of the two of them, nary a stutter.

  “Yep,” Matt agreed. “Have fun.” Catching Luca’s eye, he winked.

  Shocking himself, Luca winked back. “You, too.”

  ~*~

  Over dinner at a burger joint, Reese brought up a subject he’d been mulling over all day, his mind racing off into delicious fantasies that featured Luca, front and center. “Remember what you said last night?”

  Luca looked at him. “Uh. You’ll need to be more specific. We said a lot of things last night.”

  “About the punishment,” Reese said softly.

  “For coming before I said you could. Yes, I remember.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” Reese admitted. “Wondering what you had in mind.”

  Luca reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card, which he set on the table between them. Reese reached for it and read it, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Where’d you get this? I’ve heard of this club, but I’ve never been.”

  “Aisha gave it to me. The woman at the fetish store. I thought it might be fun to check it out.”

  “Isn’t this a het club?”

  “Gay friendly, she said,” Luca replied. “I checked out the website. It looks really intense.” He frowned. “It was just a thought. Is there s-s-somewhere else that might be fun? I’m really c-c-curious to check this out. If you were up for it, that is.”

  Reese and Hank had often gone to The Underground, a hardcore gay BDSM club. That was where they’d found most of the guys they’d picked up over the years for their stupid bets. No way would he take Luca there. Forget Hank, he admonished himself. He looked up at Luca with a smile. “I’d love to try someplace new,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  They stopped at Reese’s apartment first so he could change and leave his car. Reese briefly considered the black leather pants Hank had given him the year before, handmade in Italy, but rejected the idea. Stripping out of his work clothes and underwear, he chose a pair of black jeans and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt, more in keeping with Luca’s jeans and knit shirt. He considered going commando, but decided instead on a black thong.

  “Bring that crop,” Luca instructed. “You have some kind of gear bag?”

  “Yeah,” Reese said, excited by the promise of Luca’s masterful tone. There was definitely more to this guy than he’d ever suspected, and he was enjoying every minute of the discovery. He went to his closet and pulled out the old bowling bag he sometimes used when they went to clubs. There was already a gym towel in there, a fresh tube of Arnica and some metal handcuffs Hank had used on him, and which Reese had never liked. He pulled those cuffs from the bag and tossed them into the back of the closet, making a mental note to get rid of them at the earliest opportunity.

  He put the gear bag on the bed and reached up to pull down the crop, his balls already tingling with anticipation of the evening ahead. “Should we swing by your place and get the new flogger and cuffs?” he asked.

  Luca smiled. “They’re already in my car.”

  Reese laughed, delighted. “I should have known.”

  The Rope & Paddle turned out to be in the basement of a popular gay bar on North Broadway. They had to walk through the bar to get downstairs, weaving through sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor, and past a couple making out noisily in a corner. The air was heavy with testosterone and cheap cologne. Luca’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide as saucers. Reese put an arm around him, trying to remember if he’d ever been that innocent.

  There was an elevator down to the basement and just as doors opened, a deep, gruff voice behind them barked, “Yo, hold the door.”

  Reese turned to see a tall man with silver hair pushing an attractive woman dressed in a sexy black corset in a wheelchair. The guy wore a black leather vest, shirtless beneath it. He had a gear bag slung over his shoulder. Reese and Luca stepped aside to let them enter first.

  The woman smiled up at them as the elevator doors closed and the car began its descent. “Sorry if my Master was rude. He’s always pushing me around and talking behind my back. I really should stand up for myself more.” She kept a straight face, though her eyes were twinkling.

  The man behind her placed his hand on her shoulder, grinning. “She’s a kidder, but you’d be amazed how inaccessible most places are to wheelchairs—the ADA Act be damned. That’s one reason we love Rope & Paddle.”

  “Then there are the ropes and paddles,” the woman quipped. “We like those, too.”

  Luca chuckled.

  “ADA?” Reese asked.

  “Americans with Disabilities Act,” Luca supplied, smiling at the woman.

  The elevator door opened onto a wide room with indirect lighting and walls that were painted black. “Have fun,” the man said as he wheeled his sub out of the elevator.

  “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” the woman added. “Oh, wait. That means you can do anything at all.”

  They paid their cover and signed waivers agreeing not to hold the club liable for any injury and accepting that no exchange of bodily fluids was allowed. “Otherwise, anything goes,” said the attendant, a hulking man with a shaved head and gold hoops in both ears.

  Once inside, they walked past several scenes in progress, including a naked woman bound to a St. Andrew’s cross, a heavyset guy decked out in leather and chains whacking her with a long, whippy cane. They stopped in front of a man dressed in strips of crisscrossing leather that covered his chest and looped around his thighs and groin, leaving his cock and balls fully exposed. A second man was kneeling in front of him, attaching what looked like lead fishing weights to his balls. Clamps hung from his nipples, more fishing weights hanging from the chain in between.

  “Jesus,” Luca whispered, transfixed. “That’s g-g-got to hurt.”

  “That’s the idea,” Reese agreed, grinning.

  He enjoyed seeing the place through Luca’s novice eyes. Teasingly, he touched Luca’s chin. “You can close your mouth now. It’s all consensual.”

  Luca snapped his mouth closed and laughed self-consciously. “I know. I’ve been reading up. And now, it’s your turn. How about over here?” He led Reese to a set of wooden stocks. “Don’t think I forgot about your punishment.”

  A shiver of excitement moved through Reese. “No, Sir,” he agreed eagerly.

  ~*~

  Luca had Reese strip down to his thong underwear. He could hardly believe what was happening. Never in his wildest dreams had Luca envisioned himself at a BDSM club, ordering a gorgeous, sexy guy to strip and present his ass for his punishment. Yet, as hard as it was to get his head around, at the same time, it felt so right.

  He watched with awe as Reese, completely at ease in just his thong, bent over the stocks and placed his arms and head into the contraption. He looked so smoking hot that Luca would have liked to fuck him then and there. Instead, he unzipped Reese’s gear bag and removed the flogger and riding crop.
He moved to stand in front of Reese. “Your choice. Pick which one I use on your ass.”

  Reese swallowed, his eyes wide, his cock bulging in his thong. “The crop, please, Sir.”

  Sir. He did like the sound of that when it came from Reese’s sexy mouth. He removed the riding crop and set the gear bag aside, noting as he did so the tube of Arnica. Reese had come prepared, he thought with an inward grin. He returned to stand behind Reese, his heart beating high in his throat, his balls tight with anticipation.

  A small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them, making Luca momentarily self-conscious. He focused on Reese, but couldn’t deny a certain thrill that those watching just assumed he had a rightful place there at the club—a rightful place as Reese’s Master. Maybe they were right—maybe he did.

  He lifted the crop and said, “Ready, sub boy?” God. Had he just said that aloud?

  “Yes, Sir,” Reese replied promptly.

  Thrilled to his bones, Luca brought the crop down on Reese’s right buttock with a satisfying smack. It left a small red mark. Leaning over, Luca placed his palm over the spot. Speaking softly into Reese’s ear, he said, “Twenty strokes for my naughty boy. You will count out loud.”

  Reese nodded, his hands clenching sexily in the stocks. Was he actually nervous? That thought excited Luca. He loved this exchange of power, willingly given to him by this amazing, sexy guy.

  Returning to stand behind Reese, he struck his left cheek, this time putting some wrist into it.

  “One,” Reese said breathily.

  Luca continued until Reese’s bottom was cherry red, his own cock growing harder with each stroke. When Reese reached twenty, Luca moved to stand in front of him. “How you doing?” he asked, ignoring the applause of the small group behind them. “You okay?”

  “Oh, yes, Sir,” Reese breathed. He had a glazed expression, a silly smile on his face. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Pleased, Luca slid back the bolt that held the stocks closed and lifted the top. He helped Reese to stand upright. He returned the crop to the bag and pulled out the tube of Arnica. “Aftercare,” he announced, holding it up for Reese to see.

  “Thanks,” Reese said, rubbing his bottom with a comical expression. “I need that.”

  Luca squeezed some onto his palm and rubbed his hands together. Standing in front of his nearly naked lover, he reached around and cupped his muscular ass cheeks as he gently stroked the heated skin with the salve.

  “You’re driving me insane,” Reese murmured, his voice trembling. Luca could feel the hard press of Reese’s erection between them. “Let’s go home so I can thank you properly.”

  Luca didn’t need to be asked twice.

  Chapter 12

  Their weekend was wonderful. It was so great to be with someone with no hidden agenda and no past baggage to lug around. Luca was so real. He was open and accepting. Reese no longer felt constantly judged, or constantly found wanting. For the first time in memory, he could totally let down his guard.

  His motorcycle tuned up and revamped with new tires, they took the bike to another hiking spot, this time at Mount Galbraith. After a fairly rigorous climb, they stopped on the back side of the loop. They spread out a blanket and enjoyed a picnic lunch, enjoying the view all the way down to Clear Creek Canyon. “Look up there,” Reese said, pointing. They were lying on their backs, staring up at the blue, blue sky. A lone eagle was wheeling overhead.

  “Wow, look at that,” Luca said. “So majestic.”

  “Yeah,” Reese agreed. “Did you know back when they were trying to figure out a national bird, Benjamin Franklin recommended the turkey over the eagle? He said the eagle had bad moral character because it takes the prey away from other birds in mid-flight.”

  Luca grinned. “That’s funny. I’m glad he was overruled. A turkey wouldn’t look nearly as majestic in flight.”

  They talked about anything and nothing. It didn’t matter. They didn’t need fancy cars and drivers or trips jet-setting around Europe. Just being together was what counted.

  With the warm sun and the gentle breeze, Luca actually fell asleep for a while. Reese, propped on his elbow beside him, smiled down at his lover, a sense of amazed awe moving through him.

  “I’m falling in love with you, Luca Hartman,” Reese whispered.

  His cell phone pinged suddenly in his pocket. He pulled out the phone and saw he’d missed a series of messages from Hank. “Right on cue,” Reese thought bitterly. It had been five days since their final argument. They’d had blowouts before, even breakups that lasted one, two or up to five days. But by the fifth day, one or the other of them had always reached out, ready to reconcile, determined if not to forget, at least to forgive.

  For a moment, he tried to put himself in Hank’s shoes. It was scary to make changes, and this change had been thrust upon him. Though Reese didn’t believe Hank was actually capable of love, he was definitely possessive. Reese’s behavior had to feel like a betrayal of the worst kind. For all the times they’d broken up and then eventually reconciled, there had never been another guy in the mix.

  The thing was, Luca wasn’t the reason Reese had finally found the courage and resolve to leave. He was just the catalyst, the spark that lit the fuse that had been on slow burn for years. It had been time—well past time—that they called things quit.

  Against his better judgment, which told him to delete the messages unread, Reese clicked on the series, which had been sent periodically over the past several hours during the spotty cell service afforded on the mountain.

  “Where are you? I require your presence.”

  “We have that engagement party to attend this evening. Quit sulking and get your ass over here.”

  “WTF, Reese? I’m willing to forgive you. I’ll only require minor groveling and repentance.”

  “You don’t want to cross me, boy.”

  “Okay. You’ve got one hour to respond.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re still seeing that pathetic loser from the office. If you want to keep him around as a toy, I’ll allow it. As long as you know you belong to me.”

  The final text read: “You don’t want to cross me. I’ll make you very, very sorry.”

  With a snort of disgust, Reese deleted the messages and set his phone to block all further communication from Hank. He was done being held hostage.

  He stared down at his sleeping lover, marveling at how different their relationship was from anything he could have imagined. Luca had tapped into Reese’s submissive side and was definitely coming into his own as a Dom. But it was so different from the Master/slave games that Hank had always enjoyed. Though Reese had chafed from time to time from the lack of sweetness and romance, he’d gotten off on what Hank provided—to a point.

  That point, he now understood, was where love entered the equation. Hank dominated without love. He controlled for the sheer lust for power. Reese’s pleasure or lack thereof had never entered into it. And because Reese was hardwired to require a certain level of erotic pain and dominant control, he’d accepted Hank’s terms, unaware there was another way.

  Luca’s way. Luca and he came to each other on equal footing, the exchange of power a perfect circle, rather than a straight line as it had been with Hank—he at the top, Reese firmly at the bottom. He’d worn the chains of that relationship for far too long. But that was over now.

  He was free.

  That Monday, after several cold calls on his own account and two client calls for Stan, Reese returned to the office at around six that evening. Before he could get to his desk, Robert called him over. “You up for a free trip to Austin tomorrow?”

  “Sure. What’s in Austin?”

  “It’s a client of Stan’s. They want a formal presentation of some of the new products we unveiled last week.” He handed Reese a shiny folder with the company logo on the front. “You up to the task?”

  “Absolutely,” Reese asserted, ignoring his anxiety at doing the presentation on his own and focusing instead on the
power of positive thinking.

  “Excellent,” Robert said. “Use the company credit card to book a flight and hotel room. There are also two potential clients in Austin who have expressed interest in our products. I’d like you to meet with them just to feel them out. I’ll go ahead and finalize those appointments for Wednesday, one at nine, the other at eleven. If you get either of those, they would be your accounts—your commission. That work for you?”

  “Like a charm,” Reese agreed, both anxious and excited at the prospect, and delighted at Robert’s growing confidence in him. He took the additional folders with information about the potential clients and thanked Robert for the opportunity.

  He walked over to Luca’s desk to tell him the exciting news but found the space unoccupied. Luca’s computer was shut down, his desk tidied. Reese pulled out his phone and shot him a text. “I’m at the office. Where are you?”

  A moment later, Luca replied, “I’m out buying a rattan cane. I’ve been watching videos about caning. I want to mark your ass with some pretty stripes.” He included a devil emoji.

  “Oooh,” Reese murmured, his cock instantly coming to attention. Hank and he had never experimented with canes. They had watched a number of canings at The Underground, and Reese had been both titillated and horrified at the welts left behind. But the bottom line, which he could admit now, was that he’d never fully trusted Hank enough to allow him to use a cane. There was an underlying rage in Hank that had always added a thrilling edge of danger to their BDSM scenes, but prevented Reese from fully letting go. Luca, on the other hand, had a gentle nature. Luca would be wise and careful with the cane. Reese trusted Luca in a way he’d never been able to trust Hank. He would be safe in Luca’s arms.

  Over dinner at Luca’s place, Reese told Luca about his upcoming trip in Austin. “I’ll have to stay overnight, but I’ll be back by Wednesday late afternoon.”