by C P Harris
“I’m not having sex with you.” My arousal bullied my anger for dominance. This is what he does to me...
“So you’ve been saying. Now, come here.”
“Damon―”
“Do you really want me to come to you?”
I did. I slowly skimmed to the edge of the bed and moved no further. My groin area remained covered, but there was no mistaking the tent pitched under the silk sheet. I said I wasn’t having sex with him, but I’m encouraging him to take it anyway.
Old habits were hard to break.
Concluding that things would have to be done the hard way, Damon lowered his chin to his chest. A bull ready to charge.
He strolled over to me on relaxed limbs, and, when within touching distance, he secured a hand around my throat and climbed onto the bed forcing me back as he followed on his knees. The sheet now gone, I had to spread my legs wide—feet planted flat on the mattress— as he fit his big body in between them.
“Everything in me wants to wreck you,” he said through clenched teeth, fingers folding and unfolding in my hair.
“I don’t think so,” I informed him, still pretending I didn’t want what I needed so badly.
“I’ve agreed to therapy, and you still won’t allow me entry?” He snaked one hand under my testicles and entered me with a single digit. “Ohhhh, nice and sticky, but there’s always room for more.”
I pushed at him. “You’ve made no promises.”
“Is my word not enough anymore? I need to now resort to promises and cross-my-hearts? When have I ever lied to you?”
I flashed back to that night in his dorm room, the vision of his cock down a throat that wasn’t mine, and the events that transpired after. My anger returned sharp like the tip of a blade.
Tilting his head back, he asked, “What’s that look for?”
“It’s nothing.” I averted my eyes.
“Secrets? Is that how we’re going to play it?”
When I didn’t answer, he said begrudgingly, “I promise. To every and anything that you need from here on out. And now”—he removed his finger and licked it clean, even getting under his blunt fingernail—“I take what’s mine.” My legs wrapped around him, and my back arched off the bed as he cut through me.
Damon fucked me over and off the bed. Having been a while since our night at Elite, we were both fraught to burrow into the other's skin. The size of his cock warranted a gentle coaxing. What I got instead ensured I’d feel him for days, maybe weeks.
Afterwards, we lay side by side on the floor, recovering: Damon sprawled like a proud lion, and me wrecked like a lamb led to slaughter. “You’re not moving,” he said with finality.
The lamb grew claws. “What an arrogant asshole you are. You think you can just fuck me into compliance? I am moving. I’ve already signed the lease.” I tried to sit up, but he held me in place with a hand on my chest.
“Break it―”
“No.”
He raised menacingly above me. “Where’s my Just? The one that would never defy me?” he crooned, lowering his face a mere inch away from mine.
“I’ve always defied you. But you were always willing to go to any lengths to ensure that your will be done.” Lock me in a room, tie me up…
“But now things are different,” he stated flatly.
Things were different. I had more resources; he had less. Some of his control slipped away, and he would’ve loved nothing more than to get it back.
“For now things are different,” he elected to amend.
“Damon,” I said in irritation.
“You don’t get to pick and choose between what you like about me and what you don’t. What you want changed and what you want to remain the same. I am who I am. Stop fucking acting like you don’t get granite-hard when I treat you this way. Your dick doesn’t lie.” He smacked my hard cock away from my belly. The action pulled a hiss from me.
I straddled his hips, my hair sealing us into our own cocoon. “I love that I don’t have to decide with you. You giving me no choice helps me to dissemble that I don’t want whatever sick and depraved thing you do to me.” I ground my shaft against his hard abs; his eyes turned into black pools of lava. “It turns me on when you force me to obey an order or when you treat me like you hate me. I’m addicted to your twistedness. To the air that you breathe.” I huffed out a breath and threw my hands up. “I suppose I always will be. But I also want to win sometimes. Just once in a while, allow me to win. When it really matters.”
“Doesn’t Blake allow you to win?”
“Blake doesn’t challenge me.” It was the truth.
“‘What is victory without the exhilaration of challenge.’” He quoted my favorite philosopher. Flipping me over and bracing himself above me, his brawny arms jailing me in, he asked in a hushed tone, “And this really matters?”
“Yes,” I purred, back bowing off the floor as he reseated himself inside me.
Chapter Eleven
“I take it you stuck to the plan of not addressing the past until we’re all in session?”
“How can you tell?” I asked as I perused the menu of the diner Blake and I stopped in to have breakfast on our way back to Oregon. I didn’t remember falling asleep last night, but I woke up this morning to Blake carrying me from the floor to the bed.
“I’m not missing any teeth for one. And this”—he touched the mark Damon left above my collarbone—“is an indicator of a good time.” The tic in his jaw said the opposite. Blake struggled to understand how Damon could love me but hurt me, no matter how much I lived for it.
“Does seeing that bother you?” I raised my eyebrows.
He roughly shook his folded cloth napkin out and spread it across his lap. “I’ll never get used to knowing it’s my hands that handle you so forcefully.” He looked at his open palms before balling them into fists. “Or my…” He stopped, his lips forming a hard line.
“What? Or your cock that fucks me mercilessly?” Never had I been so crass with Blake, but he needed to get over this. Or maybe I was pissed about being reminded of that night before I’d had my morning coffee. Who knew anymore. I internally shrugged.
“So, that’s a no? You didn’t bring it up?” He chose to ignore my taunt. Blake wouldn’t provide me with the fight I wanted.
“I was close. Either I’m consumed with anger and all I want to do is maim him, or it’s put out of my mind completely, and I get lost in him―” I stopped short. It didn’t seem natural to talk to Blake about Damon in that way. It almost felt like cheating and rubbing his nose in it. Ridiculous, but true.
“You can speak freely to me about him, you know. It might have felt like you couldn’t in the past, but we can change that.”
I thought about it for a moment. “If I spoke too freely to him about you, you’d come back to find holes in the wall.” Our waitress appeared, taking our order before leaving us alone again.
“I’m not saying you have to, but you can. And without censoring yourself first or trying to gauge what you think my reaction would be.” He would try his best to handle hearing the parts he’d rather not. A true martyr.
“Yeah, okay,” I said to appease him. I had my childish moments of lashing out, looking for a fight, but overall, I didn’t relish hurting Blake or making him squirm. Which meant I wasn’t sold on the idea of speaking to him about everything Damon and I shared. I’d much rather he simply have the memory of it.
“He knew about my plan to move.”
“Ah. Julie was onto something after all. Do I need to ask how he took the news?”
“He tried to dismantle the plan, but I told him I’d already signed the lease, and I wasn’t breaking it. In the end, he relented.”
Blake looked a bit disbelieving. “That easy?”
“No.” I gave him a telling look, and wordlessly, he decided that more details were unnecessary. The truth was Damon demanded the address, key copies, code to the security system, and his name on the lease. When I told him no, he proceeded to “convin
ce me” to agree.
I won. It felt good.
“On another note, you’ve got a birthday coming up, and the season’s changing.”
“What does one have to do with the other?” I asked, laughing.
“Your birthday is Friday, and I was thinking since the weather will break soon, you might want to head down to the house and start your garden. We could have a weekend-long birthday slash garden party.”
The most unfun birthday idea ever. I sat forward, resting my forearms on the table of the corner booth we occupied. “For my twenty-eighth birthday, you think it will be fun to get dirty and sweaty, not by planting your seed in me, but by planting real seeds? And flowers? In the dirt?” I peered around looking for the hidden cameras and heard him chuckle. “Is this your way of both nudging me to go to the house and to try something new?”
“You’ve been known to procrastinate when afraid. I have to balance out Damon’s influence somehow. I’m sure he’s more than willing to allow you to stay in your hiding place. How about starting a new year of your life by doing something you’ve never done but want to try, in a place you ran away from but need to get back to? I ordered some of what you’ll need and had it delivered. Tools, flowers that are good for planting this time of year…” He trailed off as our food arrived.
After confirming we had everything we needed, our server left us to it, and Blake continued. “Most of the fun comes from the journey, not the destination, so you’ll need to research and make some decisions and purchases on your own. There’s a lot of ground to cover between the front and backyard.”
He stuffed a huge helping of pancakes into his mouth, and I studied him as he chewed. How do I tell this man how much he means to me? How much his support and unwavering belief in me meant? That I didn’t think I could do this... this life without him? He was the walking definition of unconditional, selfless love.
In the end I went with, “I love you.”
He stopped chewing to beam at me, and I beamed back.
We got back to the city, and after picking up my car, the rest of the afternoon into the early evening was spent snacking on the couch while watching shows on gardening, with intermittent napping in between. That night, Blake instructed me to put on my finest suit, without offering any further details. No matter how hard I tried to persuade him otherwise.
“You ready?”
I tore my attention from the living room window at the sound of Blake’s voice. He descended the stairs tugging at the cuffs of his tuxedo. His already masculine hands gained more masculinity by the ring he wore. A thick, gold band with a gaudy onyx solitaire. Sexy.
He paused at the bottom of the landing. He’d shaved his shadow a bit lower, and the light glinted off his dimples. He knew what he did to me.
Outside a limo waited for us. This was no spur-of-the-moment date. How long had he been planning this?
Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of The Oregon Ballet House. We were there to see the opening night performance of La Bayadère. I gazed through the tinted limo window in open surprise. Red carpet, cameras, the who’s-who were piling out of their own limos or fancy cars with names I couldn’t pronounce. Men donned tuxes, and women wore gowns chased by trains.
I slumped further into my seat, the leather screaming its protest. When my stare met Blake’s, he eyed me curiously. I hadn’t forgotten about the show. I just hadn’t planned on going. Not wanting to be reminded of what I gave up. Or feel what I felt at that moment. That I’d made a mistake. That the show went on without me.
“You remembered,” I said with a touch of melancholy.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he asked. “And I know what you’re thinking, but whether you know it or not, you need to be here. This came together because of you, Justin. Your hard work. Hours and months of dedication. You can’t forget that, simply because you made up your mind to take some time off.” He slid closer to me when in answer I turned away. He pulled my chin in his direction.
“This is your night. Michael might have stood in for you as Ballet Master, but what takes place on that stage tonight is because of you. Your love for dance is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Even with all you went through as a child and into adulthood, you still managed to become one of the youngest Principals and the youngest Ballet Master. We’re not going to sweep that under the rug, are we?”
Blake held out his hand and gave me a look that said his question wasn’t rhetorical. I took what he offered and squeezed tight. “No, we’re not,” I said.
Not only were we attending the show, we had the best seats in the house.
Michael took to the stage, and after a spotlight was placed on me, he announced my accomplishments and contributions to the performance. He thanked me for giving him the opportunity to fulfill his dreams, claiming he’d learned from the best. His words humbled me.
I stood at his request, turning to take in the faces of everyone on their feet offering me a thunderous round of applause.
Blake was right―again. I needed this. Looking at him, I mouthed, I love you.
His smile touched his eyes, and he continued to clap the loudest.
Floating down the stone theater steps after having slipped backstage to offer my congratulations on a job well done, the corners of my mouth twitched watching Blake lean against the limo parked at the curb, hands in pockets and head tilted up to the darkened sky. “What are you looking for?” I teased.
“I think it’s going to rain,” he said with a dimpled smile, pushing off the bumper to open the door with a sweeping gesture for me to enter.
“A perfect end to a perfect day.”
“Most people pray for sunny days,” he said laughing. “You’re a strange man, Mr. Daniels.”
I kissed him and ducked inside.
It did rain. And I lounged on the couch, watching the treetops make their stand against the deluge and the gale beating down on them. Swaying but refusing to fall. Reminded me of myself in that way.
Blake had long ago fallen asleep, but I sat filled with a nervous energy that kept me from slumber. To be honest, I hoped Damon would show.
My ears registered the faint sound of footsteps behind me. Butterfly wings flapped in my belly, and I launched myself over the sofa-back and ran into him full force, taking us both to the ground.
“Umph,” Damon grunted, his back meeting the unforgiving hardwood floor. I winced.
“Someone missed me,” he said after catching his breath, smiling up at me.
“Did you hear?” I shyly tucked my hair behind my ears, delighting in the feel of Damon roughly kneading my ass through my underwear.
“Yes.” Pulling me down by my nape, he stole my air with a searing hot kiss. Releasing my lips but keeping me close, he whispered, “I wish I could’ve seen it.”
“Me too,” I replied, raising up into a sitting position. Even with his many faults, Damon had never come between me and dance. He always encouraged me and never missed a show.
“Do you miss Elite?”
“Not really. I returned because I wanted a connection to you, somehow.” Shrugging, I said, “But I can spin on a pole anywhere.” To purposely rile him up, I added, “I’ll get one installed in my new place.” As expected, the mention of my apartment set him off. I yelped as he smacked me hard on the ass before getting to his feet, throwing me over his shoulder, and racing upstairs.
Damon tossed me haphazardly onto the bed, then hooked his thumbs in his boxer briefs to pull them off.
“Those aren’t what Blake went to sleep in,” I pointed out.
“Those silk shorts were too pretentious. I found these with a pile of new stuff in the closet.”
“Yeah, he bought some things he thought you might prefer when you’re here. When you’re... home.” The silence stretched.
“Is that what this is? My home?” He looked around as if seeing the place for the first time.
“I’d like it to be.” I got rid of my shorts and grabbed his hand, pulling him
under the sheets. “I can’t tonight. Not so soon after last night.”
Wrapping my hair around his fist, he tugged, licking from my collarbone to temple. “I have other ways I can punish you.”
“Please do,” I said, desperate for it.
“You look tired.” I slid Blake’s coffee to him across the kitchen counter. “Had I remembered you had an early morning at the office today, we wouldn’t have stayed up late... talking.”
“Yeah. Talking.” He smirked before taking a sip.
I blushed.
“It’s fine, really. Aside from a meeting, the rest of my day is easy. I’ll take the seproxetine this afternoon and meet you at Julie’s office.”
My face fell at the reminder that today Damon would be attending his first therapy session and that he and Blake would be trying this new drug for the first time. So many unknowns. What if something went wrong?
“Love, you’re as pale as a ghost,” Blake said coming to my side. “I’ll be fine, I swear. Okay?” Softly cradling my face, he leaned down for a kiss and gazed at me expectantly.
Tracing his wet lips with my fingers, I nodded, not trusting my voice to not betray my fears.
“What are your plans for the day?” He stacked his scattered paperwork into a neat pile before packing them into his briefcase.
“I’m meeting Sam to get the keys to the apartment. My apartment,” I corrected myself. I had to get used to saying that. “Then she’s taking me to some furniture store she loves, to pick out a bed and maybe a few other things.”
“Well, have fun and don’t forget not to worry.”
Walking him to the door, we hugged, inhaling each other’s scent before parting.
After a failed attempt at getting more sleep, I danced for a few hours before heading out to meet Sam. She waited outside my new apartment building, dangling the keys at me like you would a treat to a puppy. She had no idea that me accepting them felt like one of the worst mistakes of my life.
“Oh, don’t look so glum. This is a big day!” A few passersby startled from Sam’s exuberance.