Room at the Top

by Jane Davitt

“It was easy with Patrick,” Jay protested, then covered his face with his hand as he realized how that sounded. “And he was worth it, and that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. Sorry. It’s hard not to make comparisons.”

  “No, I understand. I’ve never had any formal arrangement with a man, let alone two, so I know what it’s like, contemplating something new like this. Still, I don’t think Patrick would have suggested this meeting if he didn’t think it had a chance of working out. Do you feel that you owe him to try?”

  “No,” Austin said. “If we do this, it’s not about owing anyone anything. It’s about all of us getting something we need.” He tilted his head to the side, studying Liam with a frown. Jay waited, content to let Austin handle this for the moment. Liam didn’t seem like the kind of man who got intimidated, but there were two of them, after all. “You said you’ve never had anything formal with a guy, but we’re not the first male subs you’ve had, are we?”

  Liam took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee. As a stall went, it wasn’t very subtle. “No. The first in a very long time. Though if I’m being perfectly honest, I prefer working with men when it comes to this.”

  “But you’re not gay.”

  “Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

  Austin shrugged. “It’s not. It’s just kind of unusual, I guess.”

  Liam smiled thinly. “I don’t see it that way, but feel free to your opinion.”

  “We’ll be naked,” Jay said, keeping his voice low. Their corner was out of the way, but the conversation wasn’t one he wanted to have a stranger overhear. “Turned on. You’ll have your hands all over us. That’s not going to be a problem for you? Seriously?”

  “Given what I’ll be doing to you with my hands, no. I’ll enjoy it. A lot.” Liam arched dark eyebrows. “Carry on, Jay. You’re making me really look forward to our first session.”

  “If there is one,” Austin said, though his fingers were gripping Jay’s painfully tightly now, his breathing shallow and quick. He was aroused, Jay knew. Hell, they both were. Liam was just tapping too many buttons, even if he was on the arrogant side.

  Liam stood, his pants falling back into perfect lines, a sharp crease running down the center of each leg. “I’d like to see you both at my house next Friday. Eight o’clock sharp. We’ve still got plenty to discuss, but we’ve reached the point where we need more privacy. I think it’s fairly obvious that we’re going to try this. The two of you aren’t exactly good at hiding your emotions, you know. That’s a compliment, by the way. It’s an asset, not a flaw.”

  Jay looked up at him. From this angle, Liam seemed huge, filling his vision. It wasn’t quite the view he’d have if he was on his knees, but it was close enough to make him ache with a longing that had been with him for weeks now, never quite fading away.

  “Can we think about it and let you know?” Austin asked.

  Liam nodded. “Of course. Let me know what you decide. I hope to see you on Friday.”

  Chapter Five

  By the time Liam got home, he’d more or less gotten himself under control. He drove his BMW into the right-hand side of the spotless, virtually empty garage and turned off the engine as the door rumbled down into place behind him.

  Once inside, after kicking off his shoes, he poured himself a drink, mixing his gin and tonic with painstaking care and taking the time to carve a paper-thin slice of lime to jostle against the two ice cubes.

  He stared at it for a moment—the translucent liquid dotted with bubbles, the dark green of the lime—then poured it away before he was tempted to drink it.

  It wasn’t what he wanted. He’d left that behind him in the bookstore, looking up at him with hopeful, hostile eyes, the pair of them so hungry, so needy that the air had been thick with it, until he could barely breathe.

  He’d held it together, just. Shown them something of what they could expect and felt them respond. Thank God they’d been in public, or he’d have shown them too much of what he wanted from them and possibly scared them off.

  They weren’t innocent. They were in their midtwenties, independent young men with plenty of bite and snap to them. There was an age gap; his fortieth birthday was approaching fast, but Patrick was a decade older than him and that hadn’t bothered them from what Patrick had said.

  There was still a troubling vulnerability to them. Liam liked men as subs because he could go further, push them harder. It wasn’t politically correct for him to have issues about giving a female sub what she was begging for, but it was a personal hang-up he’d learned to live with. He had no qualms about spanking a woman, but getting a man to submit to him held a certain appeal he didn’t trouble to analyze too deeply. More of a challenge covered it well enough.

  He wandered through to the small den he planned to use if they did show up. Two of them… Maybe it wouldn’t be big enough, but there was no way he wanted them in his bedroom, and the basement was just too… No. The den would do. An upright chair, a roomy armchair, a footstool, and a desk, the surface uncluttered, the dark wood polished smooth. Plenty to bend them over, with enough floor space to put them through their paces, and more importantly, nothing about the room revealed its purpose.

  Liam sat in the wide leather armchair and leaned back, getting comfortable. He wished now that he hadn’t poured away his drink. It would have been nice to sip it in this room with its cozy atmosphere, to listen to the clink of the ice cubes against the glass and let that sound remind him of previous nights years ago. Many years ago now he was middle-aged, but he wasn’t in the mood to think about that.

  Instead he decided to allow himself the rare pleasure of remembering the details of his time with Robert. They’d both been so young, but their friendship had been a close one and their occasional boyish roughhousing had become a more and more significant part of their summer together. One round of wrestling had resulted in Liam pinning Robert to the floor of his bedroom, tufts along the edge of the throw rug mixing with Robert’s mussed hair.

  With Robert taut and struggling beneath him, Liam had realized he had an erection and immediately stood up. They’d both been embarrassed, exchanged some awkward words, and Liam had told himself he wouldn’t let it happen again.

  But it had happened again, and then again, until somehow the wrestling consisted of Liam restraining Robert, spanking him, both of them hard and panting.

  There’d never been anything romantic between them, though. Well, just the one kiss, which Robert had initiated.

  Liam found himself sitting with the heel of his hand pressed against his erection, absently rubbing as he thought of how it had felt to bring his palm down onto Robert’s ass—through his boxer shorts, never on bare skin. It had made his fingers tingle, made his cock hard. It was something he’d never forgotten and had been seeking ever since, that level of almost unbearable excitement.

  He’d found something close in more structured encounters, sometimes with men, more often with women so he could end the session by fucking them, all that carefully built arousal and pain combining to make their climaxes explosive, violent, but nothing had ever quite matched that first spanking he’d dealt out.

  His thoughts returned to the present. Jay’s dark eyes, wide and wondering, his hurried, formal yes, Sir when Liam had made it plain a mumbled yeah was unacceptable as a reply. Austin’s ruffled feathers when he’d come to Jay’s defense, the beautiful, stubborn defiance in his blue eyes just crying out to be tamed. God, they were irresistible, the two of them. How the hell Patrick had left them… Liam grimaced, chiding himself as he remembered Patrick’s loss.

  Discreet as ever, Patrick had smoothly deflected the conversation away when Liam had bluntly asked for details of how far Patrick had gone with his subs, but it was difficult to believe that sex hadn’t been involved at some point, even if Austin and Jay were adamant they didn’t need that from a dom. He’d wanted to know, not out of prurient curiosity, but to discover just what the two of them were used to. It didn’t matter. Lia
m was confident enough—arrogant enough, according to Barbara—to feel sure he could give any sub what they wanted without sex being part of the equation. He’d done it before, after all, and really, with two of them, it would be easier. He could just sit back in this very chair and order them to take care of each other, leaving them to it if it was what they wanted.

  He’d allow them that much say over it, at least.

  He glanced down at his erection. It’d been present when Patrick had been putting forward his suggestion. It’d been there as he drove home from his meeting at the bookstore. With a shrug, he unbuckled his belt, a thin strip of tooled leather that would have raised some interesting welts on a curved, taut backside if he’d been crass enough to use it during a session—which he wasn’t. Liam was fastidious about his small collection of bondage impedimenta, built up in the time since Barbara had left. He bought high-quality items, took scrupulous care of them, and discarded them when they became worn.

  He’d need to do some shopping before Friday. Brand-new plugs in a variety of sizes, of course, color-coded to each sub because he was fussy that way. Even after sterilizing a plug, he’d never use it on someone else. Black for Austin, and red for Jay. It would be verging on precious to carry that color scheme through to ropes, candles, cuffs, and clamps, but he was damned if he wasn’t tempted. He smiled. Barbara had always told him he didn’t have a clue about decorating, but she’d been talking about rooms, not naked subs.

  Belt hanging, his pants shoved down far enough to allow his hands access to his cock and balls, he started to touch himself. Light, teasing touches, watching his hands as if they belonged to someone else at first, just the way he’d flick a flogger over Jay’s arse. Jay first, definitely. He wanted to watch Austin’s face, see how that protectiveness manifested when Jay was hoarse from begging, tears standing bright in his eyes. Would Austin enjoy the sight the way Liam undoubtedly would, or be troubled by it?

  The thought of the two of them together was shockingly appealing, and Liam wondered how he’d get through the next week. Just imagining the potential for Austin’s pseudorighteous anger, the way that Jay might sob, what their arses would look like once they’d been struck bright red. His hand would burn with it if he used that, and he couldn’t believe that wouldn’t end up happening. As satisfying as it was to hit a willing participant with a paddle or flogger, it was twice as good to use his hand. The same hand Liam was stroking his cock with right now, the knuckle of his thumb brushing the edge of his trousers as he moved from base to tip. Christ, it felt amazing, and after a session with these young men, it would be ten times better.

  He couldn’t wait to see lower lips swollen from being bitten, skin marked with blows. It wasn’t just that he missed a good session; it was that he was looking forward to this one in particular, and hopefully to more that would follow. If things worked out, he’d be able to anticipate regular sessions, and he knew from experience that would mean he’d be more relaxed and happy overall.

  Poor Austin and Jay, to be so in need of something they hadn’t been able to get since Patrick had moved away.

  But feeling sorry for them wasn’t really the way to go into this, Liam knew. Some level of sympathy was fine, as long as he used it to hone his concentration and give them what they needed. He had no doubt he’d be able to do that, assuming they were a reasonable fit.

  Liam grunted as he changed his focus to the top few inches of his cock, working it hard and fast. He was close to release already, from two minutes of wanking and thoughts of the beautiful submission he anticipated.

  How long would they spend with him on Friday? Two hours, three? He needed to make plans even if their reactions would guide him more than anything he’d decided to do. Not that he’d let them see that.

  God, they’d been running loose for far too long. Time to bring them to heel.

  An image formed in his mind, pure fantasy, but it didn’t need to be more than that to get him off. His boys, wrists bound behind them and resting against scarlet skin marked with bruises like shadows.

  They’d be facing each other, straining to kiss but held back by his command and their need to please him. He could walk around them, maybe bring them an inch closer so their lips could meet, just barely, and the tips of their stiff, aching cocks could brush. They’d be trembling, shaking—

  He heard himself moan, and the image splintered like a spun kaleidoscope as he came, leaving his shirt streaked and wet and his heart hammering.

  Jesus. If they called to cancel, he’d—

  No. They wouldn’t.

  Ruefully he raised his hand, staring at it with a bleak amusement. He’d better ease back on the fantasies. A sprained wrist would put a serious damper on things.

  * * *

  He did manage to keep himself from spraining anything, but it wasn’t from lack of activity. Generally Liam masturbated a few times a week. In the days before his first session with Austin and Jay, he found himself getting turned on and needing release a few times a day. It had been several years since he’d been aroused so frequently. He indulged rather than denying himself, in part because he hoped it would mean he’d be better prepared to be in control on Friday.

  Full of anticipation, he considered taking Friday off from work, but in the long run decided it was best to be busy even if he was somewhat distracted. He ate a light dinner of salmon and vegetables, low carb, half a glass of wine—just enough to relax him. A long shower and a clean set of clothes and he was ready.

  The car pulled into the driveway at five minutes to eight, after having sat in front of the house next door for the previous ten. It made Liam smile for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the fact they were taking him at his word: eight o’clock sharp. They sat in the car for a moment longer than was strictly necessary and knocked on the front door at one minute till.

  “I like that you’re on time,” was the first thing he said when he opened the door, and noticed that Austin’s cheeks pinked in response to the praise.

  “Austin’s great at being on time,” Jay said.

  Liam filed that bit of information away for later and smiled. “Come in.”

  He noticed them very carefully not staring at their surroundings after they’d taken off their shoes and left them tidily by the door, and he awarded them a point for manners—after deducting one for the frankly awful T-shirt Jay was wearing under an open green shirt. He couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to be, but there was a dragon in the mix and a leering goblin. Never mind; he wouldn’t be wearing it for much longer. Austin seemed to have made more of an effort, wearing dark pants, not jeans, and a blue shirt. Liam didn’t leap to conclusions, though. Both of them could simply be wearing what they liked to wear, nothing more than that. They’d both bathed recently. There was a small nick from shaving on Jay’s chin, and their hair was still slightly damp.

  He led them into what the realtor had called the family room, though it wasn’t very apt given that he was living here alone. He’d furnished it simply, like most of the house, preferring a modern, minimalist look after years of living with Barbara’s collection of antiques. Pointing out to her that they were secondhand furniture hadn’t gone down well. He’d said it mostly to annoy her, but it held a grain of truth for him. He didn’t want used and discarded; he wanted new.

  The walls were ivory, the floor pale wood, and the leather couches black. The TV was huge, and if he rarely turned it on, at least when he did the picture was crystal clear. What else did he need?

  Jay stumbled on the way into the room, with Austin catching him by the arm to steady him. Puzzled, Liam glanced down at the floor, but there was nothing there.

  “I’m used to the floor having stuff on it,” Jay explained, waving his hand vaguely. “Yours doesn’t. It threw me.”

  “He means that he uses it as a shelf,” Austin said with a long-suffering sigh, though a fond look at Jay went along with it. “Along with every other flat surface in the place.”

  “Yo
u live together?” Liam already knew that, but he wanted to fill in the details surrounding the bare scraps of information he had.

  Austin nodded. “I moved in with Jay about six months ago. It’s the top floor and the loft of this Victorian over on Holmes, not far from Sheldon Park.”

  “I know the area.” It was quaint or seedy, depending on the preferences of the person describing it. Liam didn’t expect to ever go there to visit them, but he was glad they didn’t have a long drive home. If a session ended with them in no shape to drive, he’d take them there himself, of course. But he’d prefer to keep a distance.

  When they were seated on the couch, bolt upright and nervous, he took a moment to study them, standing in the middle of the room at ease, his arms folded. He was wearing dark pants, like Austin’s if the difference in cut, fit, price, and material was ignored, and a gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his concession to the fact the weekend had begun. He’d also kept his shoes on. It was all about the details when it came to subtly underlining the power dynamic.

  He let the silence grow and then said casually, “Want a drink? I’ve got sparkling water or juice.”

  He didn’t offer them anything more stimulating than that. They all knew better than to mix alcohol with what they were about to do.

  They shook their heads in unison. “We’re fine.”

  “Then we should continue our talk.” Liam’s favorite chair was too far away from the couch. He wanted to make the conversation part of the scene, though he wasn’t sure Austin and Jay would pick up on that immediately, and that meant being closer to them. Irritated it hadn’t occurred to him before to move the furniture into a better grouping, he took the chair anyway. “I’d like to know your hard limits, your flexible ones, and something you want to try but you’re not sure about.” He let his gaze travel between them. “Austin. Let’s start with you.”

  Austin bit his lip and then swallowed. “Hard limits…um, I don’t think I have that many, or maybe I just, you know, think the ones I have are reasonable. But maybe everyone thinks that?”