Endings and Beginnings Page 16

“Look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes.”

  JJ tilted his head back slightly and found that, at this angle, Darren seemed able to go a little deeper.

  “I always thought your lips were sexy, but having them wrapped around my cock? Oh, hell yes. I’d love to keep you like this forever.”

  Darren continued to push into JJ’s mouth, picking up speed.

  “Take out your cock, boy. Stroke it. I want to see you come with me in your mouth.”

  Holy fuck, that was hot. JJ’s hands fumbled with his belt. Then he unbuttoned his pants and reached in, his hand moving at lightning pace as he stroked himself. Darren wanted them to come together, and he desperately wanted to give that to him.

  Darren pulled his hands away and smiled down at JJ. “Getting close, sweetheart. If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you need to pull off and stroke me.”

  No way in hell. JJ had been waiting for this. If the precome was sweet, what would it be like when Darren let loose in his mouth? He let go of his own aching cock and grabbed Darren’s thighs, determined that he would have what he’d been working for.

  Darren growled and tightened his grip on JJ’s hair, tremors shuddering through him as he thrust deep. JJ felt a flush of pride and swallowed around the thick shaft. When he reached out and cupped the heavy balls, Darren’s breathing sped up, and JJ knew without a doubt, at this moment in time, he actually did have the power.

  “JJ,” Darren cried out as hot come splashed onto JJ’s tongue. Where the precome had been sweet, the flavor he savored now was rich and heady, something he could easily become addicted to.

  When JJ had milked every last drop, he let the shaft fall from his mouth.

  “Let’s take care of you,” Darren said with a grin.

  Warmth flooded JJ as he averted his eyes. “I have to change my pants,” he mumbled, a blush burning his cheeks.

  Darren laughed and knelt down. “That’s so cute,” he whispered, then pulled JJ in for a kiss, his tongue exploring JJ’s mouth with a hunger that told him they weren’t done yet. He tugged JJ to his feet and swatted his arse. “Upstairs, now.”

  JJ had no qualms about obeying that particular instruction. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

  “WHAT HAVE you got there?” Kenton asked Peter, placing a glass of Coke in front of him. He peered at Peter’s tablet and smiled. “Is that Scott’s latest masterpiece? Ben was telling me about it last night.”

  Peter nodded. “I’m proofreading it for him. It’s a little different from his usual writing.” This was a YA novel, and Scott had been working on it for several months. When he’d nervously asked Peter to read it through, Peter had jumped at the chance. He was taking advantage of a quiet moment while Thomas was in the office with Leo, having their weekly meeting. Peter had made sure there was plenty of coffee before leaving them to it.

  “I’ll let you get on with it, then.”

  Kenton walked away, and Peter let himself sink back into the story. He was dimly aware of the usual noises of the club, a comforting backdrop that made him feel at ease. He sipped his Coke, occasionally adding comments to the text where he particularly liked a part or if he spotted a typo.

  “I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk.”

  Peter glanced up and recognized the man who’d approached him and JJ a few nights previously. He gave him a polite smile. “If you want to ask questions about the club, I’m not the best person to answer them. I could probably get one of the owners out here, or you can talk to some of the Doms who are around. They’re here more than I am.”

  The guy slid into the seat opposite. “I was only wondering if you liked it here.” His returning smile was pleasant. “Just trying to get an impression of the club.”

  Peter nodded. “It’s a good place. Everyone is friendly and helpful.”

  “I got that impression.” The man leaned back, appearing relaxed. “Of course, every club has its secrets, right?” He winked. “I’m sure you have a few tales you could tell about what goes on here.”

  Peter squirmed on his chair. “Not really,” he murmured.

  “Oh, come on now, Peter, I’m sure you know a lot more than you’re saying.” The man’s smile slipped, and his eyes gleamed.

  Peter’s heart raced. “How… how do you know my name?”

  The man gave him a cool stare. “You’re the one I’ve come here to meet.”

  Peter started to get up, his hands suddenly clammy, his skin cold. He glanced around and saw no one. Dorian and Master Alan had been onstage a few minutes ago, but they were nowhere in sight. I need to find Thomas. He picked up his tablet and pushed back his chair, but the man grabbed his hand.

  “I think you’ll want to talk with me, Pete. Can I call you Pete?”

  “No, and I don’t think you should….” Fingers dug into the soft flesh of his wrist, and he winced. “Please, let go of me.”

  “It’s okay, no need to panic,” the man said, his voice low and smooth. “I only want to ask you a few questions about Curtis Rogers.”

  The name sliced into Peter. Damn. “I need to… I have to….” He tugged hard in an effort to twist himself free of the man’s grip, but he was held fast.

  “You either talk to me or I tell people what I know.”

  Peter brazened it out. “And what’s that?”

  “That the man who helped convict Rogers is as much a deviant as he was and lives with a man old enough to be his grandfather. What kind of scrutiny do you think that would bring down on this place? On your friends?” The man’s gaze bored into him. “Is that what you want?”

  Peter’s throat had seized up.

  The man smirked. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Now listen. I’m here to get what I need for an article about Rogers, and you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.”

  Fear skittered up Peter’s spine. All he could see in his head was the safe world he inhabited exploding into a million fragments. He tried to pull free, but the man’s grip tightened even more.

  “Sit down,” the man commanded. “You don’t want to cause a scene, do you?”

  Peter shuddered, fear and loathing warring within him.

  “Now there’s a good boy. That’s what they call you, right? Boy?” The sneer was unmistakable. The word, said so often with love by Thomas, dripped with venom from this man’s mouth.

  Peter lost it.

  “Only one man gets to call me that, and he fucking earned that right,” he said quietly, unable to keep the tremor from his voice. He rose up out of his seat, wincing in pain when he finally wrenched his wrist free of the reporter’s grasp. “Get the fuck away from me,” he enunciated very clearly, rubbing the skin where it was tender. When the man made to grab his arm again, Peter growled, “Don’t fucking touch me. You don’t lay a hand on me. Have you got that?”

  From around the club, men began moving in their direction, voices raised in an angry buzz.

  “What the fuck is going on over there?” Joe’s strident voice carried from across the club.

  The man paled, his head jerking from side to side as he watched the members approach.

  Adrenaline flooded through Peter, and his chest swelled with pride. If you could see me now, Sir. He glared at the reporter, anger coursing through him. “Did you think you could come here and manipulate me? Blackmail me? So what if my Master is thirty years older than me? Who’s going to give a shit about that?” He longed for the safe haven of Thomas’s arms, to hear that beloved voice tell him it would all be okay.

  Except it’s not okay, is it? That bastard had done it again. He was dead, buried, and yet he still kept reaching out to shake Peter’s world to its foundations.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  Peter whirled around and sagged with relief at the sight of Master Alan and Dorian, both with grim expressions. Alan grabbed the man’s wrist and jerked him up and out of his chair.

  “You don’t touch what belongs to another man,” he said, his tone like ice.

  “W
e were talking,” the man protested, twisting his arm, trying to work loose of Alan’s grip.

  “Oh really? That’s not how it looked to me.”

  A few members appeared behind Alan, murmurs rippling through them. Alan nodded toward them.

  “It’s okay, guys. I’ve got this.”

  “Look, I’ll leave, okay?” Panic bubbled in the man’s voice.

  Alan ignored him and glanced at Peter. “I’d ask if you’re all right, but judging from what I heard just now, I’d say you were doing fine.” He flashed Peter a proud smile.

  Peter straightened. “Could you escort this… gentleman to the office, please? I’m sure Masters Leo and Thomas would love to speak with him.”

  Alan’s eyes gleamed. “With pleasure.” He took hold of the man’s arms, pinning them behind his back. “Shall we?” he said sweetly. He frog-marched the reporter toward the office, Peter and Dorian following.

  Dorian patted Peter on the back. “You were brilliant,” he said with a grin.

  Peter’s face was hot. The Doms and subs who’d gathered around parted to let them through, many reaching out to pat Peter on the arm or the back or give him a grin and a thumbs-up.

  Once inside the office, Dorian closed the door behind them. Behind the desk, Leo and Thomas jerked up their heads in surprise, Thomas lurching to his feet when he saw Peter.

  “What’s going on?”

  Alan propelled the man across the room. “This piece of shit was manhandling Peter, asking a lot of questions about Curtis. I’m guessing he’s a reporter.”

  Leo’s face hardened, but Thomas only had eyes for Peter.

  “Are you all right?”

  Before Peter could respond, Alan turned and gave him that grin again. “Peter was amazing.”

  The adrenaline had worn off and Peter’s legs were shaking, but he wasn’t about to let the fucker currently shoved facedown over Thomas’s desk know that. One look at Thomas’s expression told him his Master saw everything.

  “He wanted to know about Curtis,” Peter ground out. “For an article.” Dorian’s hand rested against his back, a comforting weight. Peter lifted his chin and tried to force some semblance of calm into his voice. “He threatened to tell people that I was some sort of… deviant if I didn’t tell him what he wanted.”

  Thomas arched his eyebrows. “Indeed.”

  Alan snorted. “Yeah, but what he got was an earful from Peter. Your boy did you proud, Thomas.”

  Thomas’s grin and shining eyes made Peter feel like he was ten feet tall.

  “He always does, Alan,” he said softly.

  He gave Alan a nod, and Alan yanked the reporter into the chair so that he faced Thomas. Leo moved to stand at Thomas’s side. The chill emanating from both men made them almost unrecognizable to Peter.

  Thomas smiled, and Peter shuddered to see it. He thought he’d seen every expression, but the icy look sent shivers through him.

  “The man you threatened happens to belong to me. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip your arms from your sockets.”

  “All right, all right, I’ve got the message.” The reporter’s voice shook.

  “Which paper do you work for?” Leo demanded.

  “Why do you want to know?” he replied belligerently. “They won’t care. I’m working on a story for them.” He sneered. “Freedom of speech. Ever hear of the concept?”

  “How about a punch to the face, heard of that concept?” Thomas barked back.

  That sneer was still in evidence. “And who’s gonna give it to me? You, Grandad?”

  Leo walked slowly around the desk. “Him, and me, and countless other men standing right outside that door. And the only way you’re getting out of here without a bruising is because we’re about to escort you out.” He nodded to Alan. “Would you do the honors?”

  “Delighted to.” Alan hauled the reporter to his feet, and with one hand gripping his upper arm, he marched him toward the door. “Please, feel free to struggle or act up again as we pass through the club. I’m sure there are lots of men who’d love to show their appreciation for your visit.”

  As he passed Peter, the reporter scowled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alan yanked him away. “No, sorry, you’ve said quite enough already.”

  As he pushed the man through the door, Thomas called out to him.

  “Make sure Tony gets a good look at his face, and then tell him to print off a photo from the security cameras. We’ll need to make sure all the guards are warned about this guy. We don’t want him coming back.”

  “Got it,” Alan said. He disappeared through the door.

  “Come on,” Leo told Dorian. “Let’s make sure your Master doesn’t end up with an assault charge.” He flashed a smile at Peter. “You did good.”

  “Thanks, Leo.”

  Thomas walked over to Peter and put his arms around him. Peter leaned into him, the tremors in his body ebbing away as he drew on Thomas’s quiet strength.

  Leo paused in the doorway. “Thomas? Take him home.” The door closed behind him.

  Thomas cupped Peter’s cheek and kissed him on the lips. Peter breathed him in, the familiar scent that spoke of home, and safety, and love.

  “Let’s go home, lad.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “CAN WE talk about Collars & Cuffs?” JJ asked.

  “Sure. What about it?”

  It had been a relaxed Thursday so far. They’d done nothing more than shopping for groceries, but even that had given Darren a good, warm feeling. The more time he spent around JJ, the more convinced Darren became that the two of them could work. JJ had been talkative and happy, and Darren was pleased he’d brought up the subject. Ever since he’d spoken about his intentions to join the club, it had been there, between them, never a long way from his thoughts. Especially after the way JJ had responded to his instructions.

  Fuck, that had been the hottest thing ever.

  JJ stretched out a hand for his mug of tea and let out a sigh. That might have had something to do with Darren’s current activity. JJ was sitting on the couch, his feet in Darren’s lap, and Darren was slowly rubbing them, his fingers digging into the arches. “You’re good at this.”

  When he fell silent again, Darren wondered if the moment to talk had already passed, but then JJ stretched, the long line of his body hidden beneath his T-shirt.

  “I guess I want to know where I fit in if you do train as a Dom. We are still going to be dating, right?”

  “Most definitely,” Darren replied. He lifted JJ’s foot and kissed the sole, which made JJ squirm. “Ah. Ticklish feet.” He stored that away for future reference. “I imagine you’ve seen a lot of what goes on at the club.”

  JJ nodded, and Darren tilted his head to one side.

  “What do you think? Does it intrigue you?”

  “It… interests me. That’s for sure.”

  Darren shook his head. “Specifics, please. How does it make you feel when you watch a sub being told what to do by his Dom?” He smiled. “I’d like to talk about yesterday too. How you felt about what we did.” He watched the slow tide of red creep up JJ’s neck until it reached the tips of his ears. “And I don’t mean the sucking my dick part, although that was bloody good. I’m talking about being told what to do like that.”

  JJ’s face glowed. “Can I ask you something?”

  Darren was amused to find him sidestepping the question. He nodded.

  “Is that something you’ve done before? Take control during sex, I mean?”

  Just thinking about it sent a wave of heat through him. “No, but I’ve wanted to.”

  “Was it how you thought it would be?”

  Darren grinned. “It was so much better. You on your knees looking up at me, my cock sliding into your throat….” Fuck. His shaft was like a rock again.

  “Stop it,” JJ growled, his hand rubbing his own crotch.

  Darren chuckled. “Am I making you horny? Again?” If he wasn’t careful, Thursday would go the same way
as Wednesday, with the two of them spending most of the day in bed. Not that it had been a bad way to spend a day. Hours of exploring each other, learning where JJ liked being touched, kissed…. He cleared his throat. This could wait until later. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding the question. I know you like the connection between Doms and subs.”

  JJ shifted on the couch. “Specifically? Well, take that demonstration Joe did with Christian on spanking. That’s not for me. But what I did like was how Joe was with him afterward. I watched them together. He was taking care of Christian like he was the most important thing in the whole world to him.”

  “We’re talking about connections again.”

  JJ nodded. “I look at how Peter and Thomas are. I don’t think I’d be comfortable living like Peter does.”

  “Peter wants to serve his Master.”

  “And that’s great,” JJ agreed, “because it works for them. It obviously works for Miles and Pietro too. I watch them when Miles works over Pietro’s back with that whip of his. I’m sorry, but having someone beat the shit out of me just isn’t…. No.”

  Relief filled him. “Me neither,” he confessed. “I guess it’s all a matter of working out what each partner wants out of the relationship.”

  JJ frowned. “Yeah, but when I see Doms and subs like them? Part of me wonders if that was how Curtis started out. I mean, he had to start somewhere, didn’t he?”

  Darren let go of JJ’s feet, reached over and grabbed him around the waist, lugging him onto his lap. JJ sat astride him, arms looping around Darren’s neck. Darren caressed JJ’s cheek.

  “Curtis was a sick, sadistic bastard. I could never think about hurting anyone like that, and I think the guys at the club are the same. For me, I’d rather spend time with someone I care about.”

  “Yeah, but you could do that outside the club. What’s the difference?”

  Darren considered the question. “I suppose if I wanted to try something that maybe pushed my boundaries a little, I’d be doing it safely. I’d never want to hurt you. That’s the big difference between me and someone like Curtis.”

  JJ gazed at him, eyes wide. “But you still want to do… things at the club with me. Isn’t that what you were trying to tell me yesterday?”