Golden Boy Two-Volume Set

by Claire Thompson

  “Eric Méndez!” Johnny stood up and threw down his napkin. “I’m trying to share something. Something that’s been bothering me. And you immediately go there! Tell me, are you going to assume I’m about to leave you every time I have the slightest doubt or issue? Maybe this is why I didn’t share it in the first place.”

  Eric knew he was right. He knew fear drove so many people to behave foolishly, people he counseled every day, and here he was in the same boat, letting fear drive his actions and dictate his behavior. “I’m sorry, Johnny. I’m sorry to have doubted you. Sit down and tell me.”

  Johnny sat. After a pause he said, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t fair. The truth is I didn’t tell you because I was conflicted.” He looked up at Eric and back down at the table. “I mean, I’ve never been conflicted about you, about us. But when Albert grabbed me, I let him kiss me for a second and I, well, I liked it. I mean, it was exciting. But I knew I didn’t want whatever Albert was offering. Not without you there.”

  Eric nodded, controlling his desire to interrupt. Johnny continued. “It happened so fast and then you were there. I should have addressed it right then but I was so taken aback. I didn’t want to make a big deal. I’m so inexperienced you know, about what’s okay and what isn’t. Maybe gay guys grab each other all the time and kiss them.”

  “Stop right there, Johnny. That was your first mistake. What’s okay is what’s okay with you. If you weren’t comfortable with that, you should have told him so. Right then and there.”

  “I know that now. At the time though, you showed up and I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea and I wasn’t even sure what you’d seen. When you didn’t say anything…”

  “Yeah,” Eric nodded, grinning ruefully. “That was my first mistake. I should have pulled you aside right then and told you what I’d witnessed and asked you about it. Instead I let it fester. I waited for you to say something and when you didn’t, I attached way more weight to it than was probably warranted. I started behaving based on my fears, instead of keeping our lines of communication open.” He laughed and said, “It’s ironic, right? The wise counselor doesn’t take his own advice!”

  “Well, please don’t take all the weight. Because I’m the one who should have come to you. That’s why I’m coming to you now. Because it happened again.” As Eric raised his eyebrows Johnny explained, “He came into the gallery today and kissed me again. Just took me in his arms as if he owned me,” Unconsciously Johnny touched the padlock at his throat, “and stuck his tongue down my throat.”

  “And?” Eric again waited, resisting his urge to demand every detail, every word spoken, every feeling Johnny had or didn’t have regarding the event.

  “And this time I was able to say no. I told him I wasn’t interested. I told him I was with you and I belonged to you.”

  “You used those words?”

  “I did,” Johnny said, coloring a little but then lifting his chin. “You know, he said something. He said what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. And I actually considered it. I considered his offer to go home with him for the afternoon. You know he’s good-looking and very charming.” Eric took a breath but remained quiet. “But I knew it wasn’t true. I knew it would hurt you. Maybe not directly but it would hurt us. It would be something secret between us, festering like a cancer, undetected from the surface but deadly nonetheless. I didn’t want to be the one to do that to us.”

  Johnny took Eric’s hand and Eric blinked away the tears springing to his eyes. “Eric, I want to share everything with you. If we do end up playing with someone like Albert, I want it to be because we want it. Because you want it and I, as your submissive lover, want to please you. That’s how I want to live. I’ve hidden enough in my life, God knows. I want to live openly now. No secrets between us. Not even if it’s to protect one of us.”

  Eric stared at Johnny, at his young, handsome face, the green-gold eyes, the square jaw with two days’ stubble, the earnest intensity of his expression. Slowly he shook his head. “Ironic, isn’t it, Johnny? I was so worried about your behavior, about losing you because you’re new and untried and ready to take on the world. I forgot about my own behavior, about the importance of trust and of sharing my own fears and concerns.”

  He stood up. “Here’s my promise to you, Johnny Wilson. Next time I see something that worries me or feel scared or unsure about us, I will tell you right away. If I don’t like something, I’ll be honest about it and let you know, instead of letting it stew somewhere in my twisted brain.”

  Johnny stood up too. “Thank you,” he said softly. “And I promise the same.” Johnny’s face spread into a grin, his dimples parentheses on either side of his smile. Now,” he pointed to Eric’s nearly full plate of coagulated noodles and cheese. “Be honest.”

  ~*~

  “That’s right. You’re doing fine. Don’t worry. I’m not a china doll.” Eric was on his hands and knees, Johnny behind him, his cock poised at Eric’s asshole. This wasn’t the first time he’d penetrated Eric but it wasn’t a regular part of their sexual routine, if what they did could be called routine, he thought with a wry grin.

  Tonight the game had a twist as Johnny had continued to express his reservations about fucking Eric. “It isn’t that I don’t love it. It’s super hot. It’s just, I don’t know. I don’t like to top you, I guess. It feels weird.”

  “If I want it—if I command it, it isn’t topping, not at all. You do it to please me. To serve me,” Eric explained. He gave a sly little smile and added, “However, to make you feel more submissive, I have an idea.”

  Johnny found himself poised behind his lover, ready to use his asshole, but unlike Eric, who liked to grip Johnny’s hips when he fucked him, Johnny’s wrists were shackled behind his back, bound in his favorite thick leather cuffs clipped to a leather belt slung over his narrow hips. His nipple rings were tethered to a long gold chain, the center of which was presently held between his teeth.

  This minor bit of bondage had been more than sufficient to plunge Johnny into a deeply erotic submissive headspace. The delicious dichotomy of fucking his lover while himself bound, his nipples pulled taut by his own teeth, satisfied the masochist who blossomed inside of Johnny, while at the same time nurturing his less prevalent but still real dominant impulses.

  Eric moaned with pleasure as Johnny pressed into his hot, tight little ass. “Yes,” he said, his voice low with lust. “Do it. Fuck me.” Johnny needed no further invitation. His lubricated cock glided in and out of the little hole, for a moment pulling out completely as Johnny couldn’t control his movements as well without the use of his hands.

  He stared in fascination at Eric’s asshole, still stretched wide from his own thick cock, the muscles completely relaxed as they awaited his reentry. Johnny slid his shaft back into the beckoning opening, drawing another moan from his lover.

  Together they rocked, Johnny thrusting forward, Eric pushing back, his own hand moving furiously over his cock as Johnny fucked him from behind. “Ai, Dios mio!” Eric called out, lapsing into his first language as he shuddered with orgasmic pleasure. Johnny came within seconds of his lover, losing his balance because of his still tethered hands and dropping the chain that held his nipples from his teeth.

  Eric fell with him, the two of them collapsing to the bed, their sweat mingling as they pressed close. Eric pulled away, causing Johnny’s cock to dislodge from his ass. Johnny expected him to release the cuffs at once, but instead Eric said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  In a moment he returned with a warm wet washcloth. Johnny lay on his side with his arms still bound behind him. After expertly removing the condom from Johnny’s now semi-erect shaft and dropping it into the little trashcan beside the bed, Eric gently washed Johnny’s cock and balls before patting them dry with a soft hand towel.

  Only then did he take off the leather belt and release Johnny’s wrists from their restraints. Johnny brought his arms from behind his back as Eric
drew him into an embrace. “Sexy golden boy,” Eric whispered.

  Johnny smiled sleepily in response. He meant to tell Eric how much he loved him, how intense and erotic the experience had been for him. He meant to promise his undying love and devotion to the master of his heart.

  But the pillow was so soft, perfectly cradling his head as Eric held him so tenderly in his arms. Before he could utter the heartfelt words, Johnny was asleep.

  Chapter 10

  Eric watched Johnny from his vantage point at a small booth across from the bar. It was still hard to believe that sexy golden boy belonged to him! Golden man really, as Johnny had matured and changed over the months they’d been together. Gone was the nervous, insecure guy, uncertain of his own sexuality, unsure in his submissive exploration.

  Johnny had evolved into a graceful, very hot submissive, one Eric would have been proud to call his own, even if he hadn’t been head over feet in love with him. Eric took a drink of his gin and tonic and wondered how straight vanilla people would perceive what was happening tonight. What Eric had dictated should happen, despite his love of Johnny, indeed because of it.

  When Eric had told Johnny of this little club in northern New Jersey called The Whip he’d observed Johnny’s eager excitement. The Whip wasn’t a play club like Cavern, but it was a known gay BDSM pickup spot. Eric knew Albert Miller wouldn’t be Johnny’s only temptation, nor did he think it fair to expect Johnny to settle down at this stage in his life.

  Not only was Johnny six years younger than Eric, but Eric had been playing the scene for years, aware for over a decade of both his sexual orientation and dominant predilections. At eighteen, would he have been ready to choose a life partner? Granted, Johnny wasn’t eighteen and as he himself had pointed out, he had had relationships with women before finally coming to terms with his true nature.

  But in terms of experience, Johnny was just coming of age. Eric had lain awake many nights wondering how to keep Johnny, sometimes giving in to his own fears as he tried to come up with ways to force Johnny to stay with him. He could exert his dominant position, keeping Johnny locked in a cage when at home alone or force him to wear a chastity belt when they were apart. But when he stopped acting off his fears, Eric knew no submissive chains would keep Johnny faithful. Eric could require obedience but he couldn’t command love.

  Tonight was an experiment Eric knew could go awry. Instead of giving his lover some room to play and explore within the context of their D/s relationship, Eric might be handing Johnny the key to something new, something that didn’t include Eric. It was a risk he was willing to take.

  He had given Johnny an assignment—to find a sexy sub boy to bring back with them for the evening. Eric had taken a hotel room not far from the club for the night. He would give Johnny free rein, allowing him to select a potential playmate, to flirt and seduce him to the point he would be willing to leave with them, aware he would be required to submit to both Johnny and his master.

  Eric would direct whatever scene ensued, but until that point he would be a spectator, watching as he sipped his drink, trusting Johnny to find someone hot, someone sexy, but hopefully not someone who would steal his heart and, in the process, break Eric’s.

  Johnny took a swig of his beer, staring straight ahead, his stomach full of butterflies. When Eric had first brought up the idea of a visit to a gay BDSM club, one they hadn’t yet been to, Johnny had been intrigued. He got a thrill from seeing other gay couples, especially those in the scene, knowing he was part of a secret community, automatically welcome by virtue of his status as Eric’s sub.

  When Eric had elaborated his plans, instructing Johnny to find them a boy toy for the night, Johnny had been at first surprised and then excited. He felt good Eric trusted him enough to find someone suitable for them. Beneath it was a secret thrill at the idea of being with another man. He’d met Eric so soon after admitting his own orientation that he’d really had very little interaction with other gay men. Not that he wanted to date other guys—his heart belonged firmly to Eric—but the thought of casual flirtation and play did seem appealing.

  Unlike the encounter with Albert, Johnny wouldn’t be sneaking around behind Eric’s back. Indeed, Eric had expressly told him to “interview” at least three men, carefully making his selection based on physical attraction, kindred connection and submissive suitability. Johnny was excited about his assignment, though not a little nervous.

  He was aware of Eric just behind him, handsome in his white silk button-down shirt and black leather pants. In fact, several men had approached Eric’s table, as he was easily the best-looking man in the place, but Eric had turned them all away, saying he was waiting for someone.

  A tall, thin redhead sat next to Johnny and ordered a beer. Like Johnny he was wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans. Accepting a bottle from the bartender, the man took a long drink and set down his beer before turning to Johnny. “Hi,” he said. “I couldn’t help but notice you. I haven’t seen you here before, have I? I wouldn’t forget a face like yours. And those shoulders, oh! I do love a strong physique.” He grinned broadly, revealing large crooked teeth. Other than his teeth, he was reasonably good-looking, in a freckled, rabbity sort of way.

  Johnny nodded toward him. “This is my first time. At this club, I mean. That is, this isn’t my first time at a BDSM club, but my first time here.” He ducked his head, annoyed at coming off like a nervous kid. Clearing his throat he tried again. “So, you come here often?”

  “Me? Yeah. I’m here every weekend.” The man stuck out his hand. “Jeff Lozier. At your service. Or I’d like to be.” As Johnny shook the offered hand, he noticed the black leather collar around Jeff’s neck with little silver rings interspersed along the leather.

  “Johnny Wilson. Is that a collar?” Jeff’s hand went up to his throat, touching the black leather.

  “Yeah. It’s a slave collar but at the moment I’m free as a bird. Looking for a Dom, someone strong with dazzling green eyes and golden blond hair. Someone who would know how to use me, to keep me chained and caged, to beat me bloody if I didn’t satisfy his every whim.”

  Johnny didn’t know how to respond, nonplussed by this sudden and rather intense pickup line. Jeff persisted, “I clean house. I’ll keep your house spotless and I do all my cleaning in a French maid costume, complete with frilly skirt and very high heels. You can follow me around with a cane and beat my sorry ass if I miss so much as a speck of dust.”

  Jeff gripped Johnny’s forearm, his expression filled with desperate longing. Johnny started to speak, to say he wasn’t in the market for a slave boy when Jeff interrupted, his voice rising. “I can suck the paint off a barn, Johnny boy. I can take a huge cock up my ass and from the looks of you, I bet you’ve got a very nice package, am I right?”

  Johnny stood up, thoroughly embarrassed, desperate to get away. “I’m sorry. I have to go now. Nice to meet you.” Johnny moved from the bar, sliding into the booth across from Eric. They both watched as the man, his face drooping with rejection, ambled away.

  Eric turned toward Johnny, grinning. “You didn’t turn down free maid service, did you? We could use a housekeeper!”

  “God, Eric, did you hear him? Talk about a heavy-handed pitch! No wonder he’s here every weekend! He might as well paint ‘desperate’ across his forehead. Jeez.”

  “He’s probably very lonely. Some people like that direct approach. A lot of these guys just want a quick fuck for the night. Maybe getting your kitchen floor mopped in the bargain is icing on their cakes.”

  Johnny laughed. “Eric, I don’t know about this. It’s going to be hard to find someone here. I mean, how can you really know someone just by talking to them for a few minutes?”

  “Think back, Johnny. Remember our first real meeting at Moe’s? How long before you knew you wanted to go home with me?”

  Johnny flushed a little but smiled. “About ten seconds.”

  Eric grinned and took a drink of his gin. “Exactly. And remember, we aren’
t looking for a soul mate, just a playmate. Someone for a night of good clean sadomasochistic gay fun.” As Johnny laughed, Eric said, “Go on, slave boy. Find your master a toy. Have fun. Be yourself and remember I’m here if you need me.” Leaning over the table conspiratorially, he added, “You might want to check out that guy over there. He looks like he’s alone.”

  Johnny stood up, feeling as if he were going to an audition, nerves and anticipation warring inside of him. He looked over at the man Eric had indicated. He was leaning against the bar, medium height, light brown hair curling over the collar of his black shirt, his broad back strong, tapering to narrow hips and a sexy ass packed into black leather pants. Johnny walked over and pushed his way next to the man, not making eye contact but instead signaling to the bartender for another beer. Johnny smiled to himself as he took a drink. Would his “look” work as well on men as it did on women? Amanda used to tease Johnny about his “smoldering stare”—in fact it was her resistance to it that had initially attracted him to her.

  Turning toward the man, he said softly, “Hey,” his green eyes hooded, his lips parted in a small smile.

  “Well, hello,” the man said enthusiastically, his smile broad as he turned his body fully toward Johnny. His front looked as good as his back, with deep-set brown eyes beneath wavy light brown hair. He was tan with rosy cheeks, red lips and a white, even smile. His shirt was unbuttoned to his sternum, revealing a firm chest with curling brown chest hair. He introduced himself as Adam Carlisle.

  They began to talk about nothing much—the weather, the poor quality of the video playing on a television set over the bar depicting two naked men intertwined in various gymnastic poses, what they did at their day jobs. Johnny liked the man well enough, though he did seem rather taken with himself, frequently interrupting Johnny to make his point or offer an opinion.