by J. M. Dabney
All I could think about was my past, and then when this was over, I was going to be forced to go ahead alone. Our previous conversation came to mind. I needed to prepare for the separation. I'd become addicted to not just my emotional attachment but the strangeness of the sexual attraction. It was abnormal territory. I'd never experienced it before. While I found men sexy before, with Yuri, I wanted to do more than look—to fantasize. I just didn't see it happening, even though I'd allowed him to cross the line.
What the hell had I been thinking when I let him get me off? Since then, it was all I was thinking about. I wanted one night before this was over. I wanted to forget everything that was on the wall. Every man I let use me for a moment of belonging.
He was too controlled to break, no matter what I did. We shared a shower, a bed, and countless kisses, then the one release where he didn't demand me reciprocate.
I heard his special knock, and then the door was opening, I held my breath as he entered the room. The sheer mass of his body seemed to make the space seem too small. His hands were loaded with bags, and I rushed forward to take them, but he waved me off.
"Grab some cups, baby."
"Okay."
I hurried to the bathroom to grab some of the heavy plastic cups that he'd picked up. He'd picked us up some plates and silverware too since we'd planned to be locked down for a while. When I entered the main room, he was laying out subs and fries on the desk in the corner. I smiled as he placed lunchmeat and cheese into our cooler packed with fresh ice.
"I know you're probably sick of sandwiches. Once this is over, I'll get you whatever you want."
"And as I said, I've never been picky about food. Three meals a day, snacks and all stuff I like too."
It wasn’t as common as before, but I still found myself waiting for him to tell me when to stop eating. He was strict about candy and my lethal levels of caffeine, but other than that, he didn't try to control me with food.
"What has you skittish?" he asked as he placed my food on a plate. The sub was cut into three pieces like I preferred. I snarled as he handed the sandwich, fries, and carton of milk to me. "You'll drink it. Then you can have your soda."
"Yes, sir." I pouted to make him smile.
"Now, answer my question."
"The wall. Looking at him made me remember. I wanted to hurt myself." He removed the items from my hands and placed them back on the desk.
“Do you need correction?”
The fact he asked me was a surprise. I remembered feeling lighter after the last one.
“Bend over the bed and place your hands on the mattress.” There was the order. The decision was taken from me, and I approached the bed, shoving my pants over my backside. I waited, nerves twisting my stomach, and I flinched as his left hand spread over my lower back. His thumb was teasing the top of my crease. I was hyperaware of the hair that I hadn’t waxed since the hospital, and it made me self-conscious.
“There’s no shame in telling me you need guidance. If you need correction for your unhealthy thoughts, then that is something Daddy does for you. You’ll get ten only. Each one you’ll count and tell me why you’re being punished.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I fisted my hands in the comforter, and I wasn’t prepared for the strength of the first smack. I yelped and tried to get away.
“Unless you count, Daddy starts over at one.”
“One. I thought about hurting myself.”
Each strike filled my eyes with tears until they fell to the fabric covering the bed. I counted and repeated why I was getting my spanking. But with each admission, fire flared in my cheeks, and there was such a strange comfort that my body didn’t respond to the agony. It was as if my brain no longer craved the pain.
Once I reached ten, he helped me straighten and kissed the tears from my lashes and cheeks.
“I want you to go wash your face, and then you’ll have dinner.”
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”
He brushed his lips to mine, and then I quickly went to wash my face so I could retrieve my dinner. When I entered the room, he was back at the desk.
"I'm sorry. I know having to look at everything hurts you. My brain works better if it's laid out for me or working in a noisy bar."
"Bar?"
"Yep, I always find the sleaziest neighborhood bar and set up shop in a booth or at the bar."
I huffed and sat on the end of the bed and crossed my legs. I gasped as the burning built and no way I adjusted eased the pain. I stayed silent as he pulled the chair over and sat down in front of me. He patted my thigh.
“Tell me why you thought about hurting yourself.”
"It reminded me of my stupidity and horrible decision making. Going home with him that first night just seemed like any other one-off I picked up. He seemed different, though. Cultured and polite, he even opened the back door of the limo for me. He didn't paw at me or grab my crotch. I fell so easily for it." I let out a bitter laugh as I picked at my food. "I can't believe I actually bought the we can just talk line he threw out."
"He was a born manipulator, baby boy."
I almost protested when he took my plate and his, setting them on the bed. He picked me up and cuddled me on his lap.
"Doesn't change that he was in a long line of manipulators who saw me as an easy target."
"Is it different now? Would you recognize them for what they are?"
If I was supposed to concentrate, this wasn't the way to accomplish that. He was rubbing my thigh through my sleep pants and higher to stroke his thumb across my belly, his hand slipping beneath the cotton.
"I don't know, and if you want me to think, that's not the way to help."
"I'm sorry my boy finds me so distracting."
"That's another thing. You can't keep saying mine." I stared at him from under my lashes. My focus as always falling to his mouth. Plenty of men had kissed or tried to in the past, but it was all a part of the plan to get me to bend over. It didn't mean more than a cold seduction—a cruel means to an end.
"Why not? It's probably stupid on both our parts, but one day when this is over, I'm hoping when you've had time to think and find yourself that you'll come back."
"Really?"
"Yes."
He lifted his hand to my cheek, and he touched his lips to mine. It was chaste as if he wanted nothing more than to comfort me.
"I'm not going to make promises or lie to you. When this is over, I probably won't look so attractive, but once we have some distance and the adrenaline or whatever has faded, maybe you'll want to come back."
"You're not going to fuck me, are you?" Disappointment and elation were a mix I'd never experienced. As I said I wanted one night, but it was intoxicating he wouldn't use me as a toy.
"No, don't mistake my gentlemanly attitude. It isn't easy for me at all. Getting you off yesterday morning made it so much worse to rein myself in."
"But you didn't let me repay—"
"No, you don't owe me anything. Just because I jacked that pretty cock of yours doesn't mean you have to touch me in return. I don't require that from you."
"What if I want to?"
"Not until we're out of this fucked-up place and I have you in my bed. Privacy and hours of freedom."
I stuck out my bottom lip, and I gasped as he sharply nipped it with his teeth. As his fingers fisted in my hair, he controlled me and turned my head however he wanted me. The kiss was a promise of ownership but not the kind that stripped me of my bodily autonomy. I knew all I had to do was say no and he'd stop; no matter how heated our exchanges became, he'd never force me.
Our groans mingled as the kiss turned deeper, and he showed me his strength as he lifted me to straddle his thick thighs. I rocked my hips and felt the thick ridge of his erection behind the zipper of his jeans. I hugged his neck as my head fell back, and he gently sucked at the length of my throat. My gasps turned loud and high-pitched. All panic and worry were gone, I was free, and the need for pain receded until it was as if it ha
dn't existed.
He was shoving his free hand between our bodies. I caught his wrist and lifted my head to rest my forehead on his. I tried to catch my breath.
"No, if I can't touch you, I don't want to."
His breathing was ragged and he trembled, his thighs flexing under my ass. It pained me to make him stop, but I couldn't handle another one-sided orgasm. I wanted more.
"Very well. Now, it's time for you to eat. Your lunch is an hour late."
"You're not mad?"
"Baby boy, no, I'm not mad. I will always take your needs and feelings as priorities. And when and not if I claim you, we're going to do it right."
"Yes, Daddy."
I smirked as he groaned, and his fingertips bit painfully into my hips. I was still aroused and wanted to get off, but I'd rather go without if I couldn't make him feel as good as he did me. The Daddy was a low blow though. As put-together as he seemed to be, that title did make him lose some of his steely control. He gave me another quick kiss then settled me back on the bed and gave me my plate back.
For the next three hours, he told me in detail about his talk with West and that we'd be moving to another location the next day. I was going to miss the outdated motel room and the gaudy wallpaper and bedspread. The shaggy crimson carpet. What I hated the most was we weren't going to be alone. Moffett and West would join us.
Would he change how he treated me? Maybe I wouldn't get the kisses and cuddles when others were around. In some ways that broke me, but it also showed that our time was coming to an end. A definite plan would be put into place to either free me to live my life in the city I considered home or an unknown place with a new name and life. A life without my grumpy Daddy.
Twenty-One
Yuri
As I secured Josh's bulletproof vest, I watched the happy light slowly dim. I'd visited the storage unit to grab us both one. The longer I was with him, the more I just wanted to pack up and have Arianna make both of us disappear. Morally I couldn't do that. Cross needed to be stopped so that he couldn’t repeat what he'd done to my boy. I tightened the last strap. I tried not to think about this being our last day together.
After our last kiss and I told him I wasn't going to have sex with him or in his words, fuck him, I'd noticed a distance forming. Two mornings of awaking and finding him on his side of the bed; I hadn't realized how accustomed I’d become to sharing a bed with him. I'd turned on my side and dragged him to the center of the bed. Unconsciously, he snuggled into the curve of my body seeking my warmth.
"I don't like this." He ran his hands over his chest and stomach.
"And I understand, but we're going to be with West, and I want you protected if something goes down."
"Why are we going with him if you don't trust him?"
I knew he didn't understand why we were moving. Even as I explained it, the plan didn't work for me either. Josh needed to be free, and in order to do that, we needed to get rid of the threat. One way or another, I was going to do just that.
"Right now, the only person I trust is you. And as the saying goes, the devil I know if better than the one I don't."
"We're safe here."
"But for how long? We can't hide out here forever, and I want someone with you. The next week is critical, and I have places I need to go that I won't take you. You remember the plan?"
"If the new safehouse is compromised, I'm to call Arianna."
"Exactly. I'll make contact as soon as I can."
He turned away from me, and I fisted my hands to keep from grabbing him. Most of the morning he'd kept himself busy unpacking and repacking our bag, folding each item ten times or more. I'd allowed him to have time to think while I dismantled my suspect wall.
I had a long list of names and places to visit in the next few days as we prepared to carry out our plan. If we couldn't take them down in court, then I would have to sink to their level. Although, blackmail was a dangerous game. It could go nuclear at any time. I had to keep our enemies on their toes just long enough to arrange a meeting with the judge.
Walking Josh into the courthouse on a deadline had its own set of problems. Judge Callister was known as a strict but fair judge. Had a reputation above reproach. Moffett couldn't find anything on him. Not even one corruption rumor stained his record in his thirty years on the bench.
I needed to think over my options. Yet, I also had to make sure my boy was safe in my absence. It galled me to have to rely on West again. He didn't have any direct blood on his hands, but he also hadn't thought twice about turning away for enough pay. West was a crooked bastard, but he'd never fucked me over personally. And I hoped he didn't start now.
A knock rattled the door. As I drew my weapon, Josh ran until he was pressed to my back.
"Stay behind me, if something goes down, you run while I distract them." I didn't wait for an answer. He'd do what he had to.
I crossed the room, drew a deep breath in through my nose, and exhaled as I turned the doorknob. Opening the door just enough to see through the crack, West stood on the other side. Wordlessly he pushed it open and stepped into the room.
"You ready to go? I found a safehouse. Damn place looks hours away from being condemned, but you can't be too picky."
"I thought I told you to wait outside?" Why I expected him to do anything I said, I had no idea, but I holstered my weapon and slammed the door he left open.
"Um, have you seen this neighborhood? I was in warzones more hospitable. Where's our witness?"
I turned my head to glance down as Josh peeked around me to wave at West.
"Damn, when did he get so pretty?"
When West winked at him, a growl slipped out, and my hand flexed around my gun. My former partner was known as a ladies’ man, but I'd seen him take home a pretty boy or two over the years when the urge struck him. For the most part, West was one of those slick, sickeningly handsome men who could easily get a bed partner. He wasn't getting my boy, though.
"I knew it. You always had a weakness for the pretty, submissive ones, Sorenson."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, let's get on the move. I want Josh settled with dinner before I have to take care of a few things."
"I'll go out first, Josh will be behind me, and you bring up the rear. I'm sure you can handle that."
I rolled my eyes as I made my way to our bag, slung it over my shoulder, and when I turned, Josh was right there. I raised my hand to pinch his chin.
"Baby boy, you'll be fine. Have I broken my promise yet?"
He only shook his head. I shot a look at West to find him watching us. I didn't give a fuck about his judgment and turned my focus back to my boy. As I tilted his head up, I lowered my mouth to his. It was a comforting act. We'd have plenty of time for more later. Or at least I hoped so. When I straightened, he wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him for a few minutes until I couldn't put off leaving any longer.
"You stay close to West. Now, go put your hoodie on."
He did as I said, and I mentally prepared for the exit from the motel. I had to clear my head and remember I had a job to do. Taking care of my boy was my top priority.
We quickly outlined the plan, West got into position, and I gave my boy's hand a quick squeeze to reassure him. West and I both drew our weapons, and then years of working together took over. The moves seamlessly in sync as we stepped into the hall. It was still early enough in the day there wouldn't be any real activity until the ladies started to bring back their tricks for the night.
The fire exit I'd checked when we arrived and noted it was broken wouldn't draw any attention by sounding an alarm. I rested my free hand on Josh's shoulder to prepare to pull him behind me if needed. A feeling of wrongness tingled at the base of my skull, but I ignored it as we descended the stairs, checking each floor as we did and then we were moving to the hidden door under the steps. We paused, and I turned my upper body to check for any danger.
Still clear but I held my breath as I glanced at West to find him easing the heavy meta
l door open. The hinges creaked, and my nose snarled up at the rotting stench of a dumpster the motel shared with the restaurant next door. West pushed, then he quickly checked our blind spots.
"Come on," West said then the beep of the car alarm signaled him unlocking it.
He kept it running and had only taken the fob with him. Everything was too easy. We'd stayed hidden too long. My paranoia amped up as I quickly got my boy in the backseat and West jogged around to the driver's side. I shifted until I could throw our bag inside and then I was closing us in, ordering Josh into the floorboard until we were sure no one followed us. A hit team would've taken us out as soon as we appeared from the exit.
Still, I couldn't relax. In our room, it was easy to hide from the world—to pretend that all was normal. Josh hugged my calf and laid his head on my knee, while I soothingly combed my fingers through his silky hair. I kept my attention on the move, checking behind us as we drove away from the alley. West would take a few false turns to make sure we didn't have a tail, but after that, it was to the second location.
A few more days and hopefully this would be over, but until then, I'd do everything to keep my boy safe and unharmed.
A few hours later, the sun was beginning to set. The house we'd entered should've been condemned before. You could look through the rotting downstairs ceiling to the rooms above. West had prepared the place as much as possible. Sleeping bags. Lanterns and other camping equipment. There was a construction sign out front. West said that it was an old friend and they ran crews late there, so it wouldn't cause any alarm.
I had to laugh at the murderous glares Josh was sending West. My boy wasn't happy, and it showed. I was about to suggest him not sleep around Josh but figured at least he was occupied.
"Do you have to go?" he whispered, as he rested his forehead on my chest.
He was always touching me in one way or another, but since we'd left with West, he'd sought more comfort. I'd ignored West clearing his throat whenever my boy curled up on my lap. Whatever he needed, I was going to give him without question.