by Tricia Owens
“Yes, Max.”
Ethan drove his hips faster, thrusting against Max’s shoe with purpose. Max kept his finger hooked beneath his jaw and Ethan blushed beneath the intent look focused upon his face. He didn’t look away, though this was embarrassing, borderline humiliating. He let Max watch the arousal build in his eyes and on his face. He began to pant and Max brushed his thumb across his bottom lip as if fascinated by his reactions.
“Could you come from this?” Max asked, his voice low.
“I think…yeah, I could.” If given enough time, Ethan would make sure of it.
“Then stop.”
The hand moved away from his face. Max pulled his leg out of Ethan’s grasp. Left without support, he fell forward onto his hands and remained there as Max moved around and behind him.
He heard the smooth slick of fabric against fabric, but no further rustling sounds to indicate that Max was removing his clothing. Ethan strongly doubted he would. He understood the scene that needed to be played out. He’d instigated it. So when Max ordered, “Come here. Place yourself over my lap,” Ethan shivered with anticipation and relief, not trepidation.
When he turned, he found Max seated in the arm chair, his jacket shed, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His tie hung loose from his left hand. The look of command in his eyes nearly made Ethan moan. With a pounding heart, he crawled across the floor to the chair and paused to kiss the top of each of Max’s shoes.
“I told you to lie across my lap, not kiss my feet.”
The censure in Max’s voice was driven by authority. Max was in full domination mode. If he’d arrived here from a state of anger and frustration, Ethan still trusted him to be in control. Everything they did together was about trust, and Max had earned Ethan’s long ago.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan murmured as he quickly scrambled to comply.
“I want your obedience, not your apologies.”
Abashed, Ethan kept silent as he draped himself over Max’s lap, bracing himself with his hands and feet on the floor. When Max shifted his legs and tapped Ethan on the hip, Ethan knew to adjust himself so his cock slipped between his lover’s thighs. As soon as he did this, Max closed his legs, trapping his erection.
“I’m not interested in anything from you but your suffering,” Max said quietly. “I’m going to make you cry. And then I’m going to do it again.”
Ethan’s eyes already burned. Yes, he thought. Please.
Fingers brushed his mouth. He immediately parted his lips to allow Max to feed the silk tie between his teeth, gagging him. He shut his eyes and quivered when he felt Max draw the two ends of the tie together behind his head and fist them tightly in his left hand. A tug, and Ethan’s neck bent back as though he were a horse under bridle.
Ethan was already in the proper headspace for this. He had been since the elevator, when he’d understood that Max had lost power and Ethan could return it to him. He didn’t dwell on the fact that his submission was the true power here, that he alone made this possible. Max needed to be strong for Ethan to feel comfortable with this. That made Max the powerful one.
The first slap to his ass shocked him even though he’d been ready and eager for it. The sharp, hard spanking that followed was nothing short of a white-hot explosion of pain spinning on an endless wheel.
He chewed on the tie, which partially muffled the cries and sobs he couldn’t keep in. His fingers clawed the carpet as he sought to transfer away some of his suffering. Max was merciless, his hand granting Ethan little reprieve between slaps to his ass and thighs. It was awful and glorious and Ethan never once considered lifting his hand to signal that he wanted to use his safeword. With each strike, he felt Max’s frustrations with Randolph, along with his anger and fear for their relationship and for the future of The Elite Poole Worldwide. What Max couldn’t admit aloud, he revealed through the pain he inflicted upon Ethan, and Ethan gladly absorbed those emotions, savoring his ability to take these things from Max and relieve him of their burden.
As the spanking went on, he thrashed and squirmed, but didn’t attempt to roll off Max’s lap. He was committed to the suffering. He wanted it. He enjoyed it. Because with each sharp slap to his swollen, burning ass, he knew Max felt more in control.
The pain crested. He began to fall over an imaginary cliff with it, except he didn’t fall, he floated, rising higher and higher, the sound of Max’s palm slapping against his skin a distant thing. He still felt the impact, but the pain was different. Muted. Vibrating his cock. His body was comprised entirely of heat. Ethan heard himself gasping like a thing hunted through the forest, and then he heard the low burr of Max’s voice calling him back.
Strong arms pulled him up from Max’s lap, but he could do nothing to help, his limbs boneless, his coordination shot. His head lolled against Max’s shoulder, his nose nuzzling against warm skin, seeking comfort. He was enraptured by the scent of Max—strong, comforting Max—whose arms held Ethan protectively and who rocked him while he whispered his love against Ethan’s sweat-damp hair. Max, who gently kissed his slack lips and wet eyes, whose breath caressed Ethan’s cheek in an emotional, fluttering flag of gratitude.
“I love you. I love you.”
Ethan smiled and whispered the words back.
He was so tired and yet he felt elated, as though he’d bested a challenge. Max took care of him, his touch confident just like the man Ethan knew him to be. And Ethan knew it would be alright. No matter what.
~~~~~
Maxmillian bathed Ethan in their Roman tub, holding his husband gently. Ethan occasionally whimpered when his sore buttocks shifted against the porcelain base, but Max didn’t waste his breath apologizing. For one, he wasn’t sorry. For another, he knew Ethan wouldn’t have accepted it. They were attuned, aware of what the other needed. For now, everything was as it should be.
“Do you feel better?” Ethan murmured as he rested his arm atop Max’s where it curled around his middle, keeping him upright. He rested with his back to Max’s chest, cradled there because Max needed as much contact between them as possible. The water steamed gently around them, filling the large bathroom with mist. It almost felt as though they were in another world, where the pressures of business couldn’t reach them.
Max curved his palm possessively around Ethan’s thigh. “I feel much better.” He kissed a wet shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me not to hurt you.”
“You’d never willingly hurt me.”
“Doing so through carelessness or unrestrained emotion would be no excuse.”
“But you didn’t. I had every confidence that you wouldn’t.”
Max pressed his cheek to the side of Ethan’s head and said nothing, humbled by his husband’s complete faith in him. What did success in business matter when he had a man who trusted him to this depth?
“You should always feel strong and confident,” Ethan said sleepily. Max pictured him with his eyes closed, lashes thick with water from their bath. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel differently. They’d be wrong.”
“What have I done to deserve you?” Max whispered.
“You’ve given me the freedom to let go and fly.” Ethan sighed, sounding content. “Pretty simple, actually.”
Max supposed it was, when you stripped everything else away. One man given permission to let go. One man given permission to push him over that edge.
“I want to assure you that our relationship won’t suffer because of what happened at the party,” Max said as he watched his fingers stroke over Ethan’s thigh, knuckles brushing his soft cock. Neither of them had climaxed, but that hadn’t been the point of their scene and it wasn’t necessary now. “It doesn’t matter what the media says or does. It doesn’t matter how my client base is affected. You are my husband, Ethan, and I will no longer hide that fact from anyone.”
“Don’t do it for me,” Ethan said softly, sounding worried.
“I’m doing it for both of us. Had I been the strong, confident man you paint me to be,
I would have done so the day I brought you to Las Vegas.”
“We weren’t close then the way we are now. I understand and I didn’t have a problem with it. But I get what you’re saying, Max, and I appreciate it. I love you for it.” Ethan caught Max’s hand and brought it to his lips, where he pressed a kiss to the palm. “This may not be the end of the world like you’re fearing. I’d like to think something positive could come out of this for The Elite Poole. There’s always a silver lining.”
“We’ll see,” Max said noncommittally. He didn’t possess Ethan’s eternal optimism. He remained convinced that they faced nothing but problems in the coming weeks and months. However, problems could be overcome, obstacles shoved aside. For the sake of his marriage more so than for the sake of his business, Max would do everything he could to find Ethan’s silver lining.
“Who knows,” Ethan said, kissing Max’s hand again before yawning, “we may end up picking up some clients we wouldn’t have had before. Ones that’ll catapult us to the next level.”
Max nodded, because Ethan wanted him to, but privately he worried just who would come calling in the morning, eager to hire his agents.
Chapter Three
Maxmillian shook his head as he went through his business emails, deleting without opening anything that appeared related to the events of last night. The emails were numerous and their subject lines repetitive: requests for interviews to discuss his and Ethan’s very public outing.
He wasn’t interested in setting the record straight, puns aside. He wasn’t interested in giving this story a second of his attention, as a matter of fact. He had a business to run. His duty was to his clients and to his agents. He had no obligation to satisfy other people’s curiosity. As he erased the final email, he suppressed a sigh. If only that would be the last, but there would most assuredly be more.
Kimberlyn had been instructed to take messages from any person calling in who wasn’t in need of protection services, so when his phone rang from her line, he picked up warily.
“Mr. Poole, I have Mr. Felix on the line. He’s interested in hiring us on later this week.”
“This is a legitimate client?”
“As far as I can tell, sir. He sounds real, anyway.” Kimberlyn laughed. Max didn’t share in her amusement.
“Let’s hope you are correct,” he said ominously.
“I vetted him as usual,” Kimberlyn said, sounding more professional. “I’ve emailed you the basics just now.”
“Alright. Please patch him through.”
If this turned out to be a reporter in disguise, he would calmly end the call and move on. He was determined to retain full control over his life and his privacy. He would be the first to admit that he’d lost control of himself at the party and immediately following it. Those hadn’t been his finest hours. But Ethan, his perfect husband, had known how to clear Max’s head and set him back on course.
Pride swelled in his chest as he thought of Ethan. The man had surrendered himself completely, instinctively knowing that Max needed to feel powerful. If such a thing as soul mates existed, Max was convinced that he'd found his in Ethan.
The faint smile that had begun to curve his lips fell away as he recalled where he was and what he was doing. “This is Maxmillian Poole,” he said crisply into the phone.
After a short pause, a man’s voice came over the line. “Hello, Mr. Poole. My name is Merrick Felix. Thank you for being available. I’d assumed I’d be speaking with your receptionist.”
“Personal security is a private matter, Mr. Felix. I hold consultations with all new clients to ensure The Elite Poole Worldwide is a suitable fit and vice versa.”
“Ah, yes, that makes sense. I appreciate that level of intimacy.”
Max frowned, but told himself not to assume the man’s comment was at all suggestive.
“You’re interested in protection for yourself?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m from Chicago. I’ll be traveling through Las Vegas for work at the end of this week. I realize it’s short notice, but so is this trip. It couldn’t be helped.”
“Short notice is fine. We handle that all the time. How long will you be in town, Mr. Felix?”
“About six days before heading on to L.A.”
“I see. And may I ask how you heard about us?” It wasn’t a question Max typically asked, but times had changed.
“One of my friends, Ed McIntyre, used your services last year.”
Max recalled the client, a one day assignment that James had handled, and relaxed slightly. He pulled up his online calendar. “What type of work do you do, Mr. Felix?”
“Advertising. I’ll be touching base with some of my clients while I’m in your city, so mostly I'm looking at attending some dinners, a few meetings. I won’t need coverage twenty-four hours a day, which I understand you offer.”
“We can customize the coverage for you, Mr. Felix, once I learn more about your needs and activities. Before we go much further, I must inform you that my in-house investigators will perform a light background check to ensure there aren’t any conflicts with the assignment. This is standard with all new clients.”
“Yes, I’ve been warned. It’s fine.” Felix paused. “I should mention right off the bat that I’m hoping for a specific agent. I’m willing to pay extra if that’s necessary to secure his services.”
Max lifted his fingers off the keyboard, all too familiar with this particular request. It wasn’t something he’d considered after last night, but he now realized it might come up more frequently if people assumed that a gay man and his husband had hired an equally gay staff.
“You’re aware, I’m sure, that The Elite Poole Worldwide provides security services only. Nothing of a more personal nature.”
“Yes, I’m aware, and that’s not why I’m requesting someone specific. The thing is, he and I are old friends, so I thought it would be great to spend time with him. It’s a happy coincidence that he’s on your staff.”
Max settled back in his chair. “Which agent are you requesting?”
“Ethan Winter.”
Max nodded, having expected this. The universe could be irritatingly predictable. “You and he are old friends, you say.”
“Yes, he—well, I’m not sure I should say under what circumstances we met, but it was related to my work. We lost touch a while back and this seems like the perfect chance to catch up with him. I expect that you’ll want to ask him if he’s okay with this, of course. But I doubt he’ll have an issue with me.”
Felix’s confidence was meant to reassure Max and it did, to a degree. Though he knew all about Ethan’s modeling career since he’d used it to his advantage to lure the blond back to Las Vegas, Max didn’t know much of the details. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, thinking Ethan had closed that chapter of his life and was uninterested in revisiting it. And maybe, admittedly, Max had wanted to seal off Ethan’s prior career and forget about it because the idea of it prompted a small measure of jealousy. Ethan had used his body to sell clothes. Hundreds if not thousands of men had seen him in various states of undress. The true secrets of his body were Max’s alone, but his jealous side didn’t seem to care about the particulars.
Whoever Merrick Felix was, chances were he knew Ethan because of his modeling. Felix worked in advertising. Perhaps he or his company had hired Ethan at some point. A business acquaintance, that was all.
Except Felix had claimed that they were friends, and he’d done so with a lilt to his voice that Max hadn’t missed. The two men were more than acquaintances, but how much more? Felix’s reluctance to share how he and Ethan had met could indicate a respect for privacy or the need to hide a secret.
And I could ask Ethan all of this, Max reminded himself testily. So why was he acting paranoid?
Perturbed by his own behavior, Max concentrated on business. “Should I decide that The Elite Poole Worldwide is a good fit, I will indeed discuss the matter with him. Until then, I can’t guarantee that he will be availab
le to you.”
“I understand. Just know that if he’s not, then I’ll likely pass on your services. To be honest, I’m not sure that I’d feel comfortable being guarded by a stranger. It feels strange enough asking a friend to do this job.” Felix laughed easily.
“Then you’re not in need of protection because you feel threatened?” Max asked, beginning to frown. He wasn’t about to tolerate a client looking for an ‘experience.’
“Oh. I see how that sounded. The truth is, I have a stalker. Not a crazy one like you’d see in movies, but potentially damaging to my business, which is why I’d prefer to have someone watching my back while I’m in Las Vegas. It’s not a matter of life or death. I don’t consider her dangerous. However, she’s been harassing me and I’d prefer not to have her show up and sabotage my events.”
“She would be present in Las Vegas while you’re here?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. She’s flown to a city where I was vacationing once before, but only that one time. Still, my business this time is important enough that I don’t want to take any chances. Ethan, if he’s available, would just be looking out for me. Nothing dangerous at all. I guess technically I don’t need him, but as I said, it’d be a great excuse to catch up with him after all this time.”
Max itched to know how long was ‘all this time’, but refrained from showing his hand. He didn’t know if Felix had seen or heard the broadcast from Randolph’s party and knew that he was married to Ethan, but Max had no intention of bringing it up.
“I understand. Alright, Mr. Felix. I have several things to go over with you before we move on to the background check. Is now a good time for this?”
“It’s perfect, Mr. Poole. I’m ready when you are.”
~~~~~
Ethan didn’t see Max all morning, which wasn’t unusual, but on this particular day, fresh off Axelrod Randolph’s party, Ethan couldn’t help being nervous.
He and Max had woken up on the right side of the bed and enjoyed a quickie in the shower before moving on to a pleasant breakfast together. Max had taken the atypical step of not checking his emails during the meal, perhaps dreading what he’d find, or maybe wanting to respect the bond between them that had been reinforced the previous night. Ethan would never complain about having his husband’s undivided attention, but it had been impossible not to note the break from the norm.