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Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3

Page 34

by Bianca Sommerland


  Realizing he’d always had someone telling him what to do in one way or another was kind of a mind-twister. Didn’t bother him, really, but nobody had ever made it feel as good as Noah.

  “What about your other friends?”

  “It’s kind of tough to make friends when you’re on the road all the time and you never go to a regular school.” Cocking his head, Jamie paged back through memories and came up with a few acquaintances from films and videos he’d worked on. Men and women who worked in the studios. Adults who’d made him feel like one. “I’ve always hung out with people older than I am. I mean, there are guys I club with, but it’s not deep. It’s just the way it goes.”

  “Do you miss it?” Noah dropped his gaze to the thumb he brushed up and down Jamie’s shin. “L.A.? Your band?”

  After lifting his shoulders, Jamie let them fall. “Not really. I haven’t even checked my voicemail since I got here. It...seems like another life. Someone else’s. That’s sort of what I was thinking about when you woke up.”

  Noah’s palm smoothed over his hip, then back down his thigh. “Tell me.”

  “Just that I don’t like that person I was. Always wondering if I measure up with the kicks and the cars. Judging people by how they look and who they know.” He wiggled a little, enjoying the pleasant ache as Noah’s hand slid between the mattress and his naked ass, cupping and kneading. “And I was thinking that I love that you’re not like that. You’re real, and I can count on you to mean what you say. Not like Trevor.”

  Trevor, who’d told Jamie he was ‘hot’, and that he’d ‘do him’ if he was gay. Who he’d felt safe enough to try to experiment with, turned out to be just fucking with him to get what he wanted.

  “What does he look like? Trevor?”

  He frowned, trying to decide if Noah was jealous, but other than holding a tinge of curiosity, his expression was unreadable. Rumor had it around The Asylum that Noah liked to sample from the buffet, and Jamie was his first long-term relationship—because apparently around here eight weeks was a freaking lifetime—since Curtis and Lawson. He didn’t seem like the jealous type—hadn’t even asked if Doc had sex with him.

  “Do you have your phone somewhere?” He looked around the room, anywhere but Noah, not wanting to think about when or if he’d become the flavor of the week. “Mine’s a brick.”

  “Brick?” Noah looked at him as if he spoke a foreign language.

  “I haven’t charged it in so long it won’t charge. I needed a new one anyway. This one’s at least six months old.”

  Noah’s brow rose at that, but then he simply nodded. “We’ll fix that. Mine’s on the charger in the nightstand. I assume there are people who’d like to talk to you and know you’re safe.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed, bitter, slipping from the bed. “You’re assuming I care.”

  “Put away your claws, little cat.”

  Jamie bit his lip on the urge to hiss in Noah’s direction as he pulled open the nightstand drawer. He had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well, joke or no. Maybe with the old Noah, but not the one Rhodey had brought back to them.

  Returning to the bed, he caught Noah’s expectant expression, brows arched. Unimpressed.

  “Uh. Yes...sir?”

  Noah’s lips flattened. “Better.”

  He handed Noah his cell. Noah entered his password and handed it back. Scrambling onto the bed, Jamie sat cross-legged and did an image search for ‘Glam Grenade Trevor’.

  Photos scattered, popping his former life like soap bubbles across the screen. His fingers tightened around the case as he scrolled past more-recent photos he had no interest in investigating. Who gave a fuck if Trevor was at the premiere for the film he’d just done the music for? Some stupid animated flick that he’d been yammering on about for months.

  Scowling, Jamie poked at the screen, handing Noah the phone when he’d brought up the shot the label most liked to use of him, Danny, and Trevor. Arms slung around each others’ shoulders, they grinned, holding their awards for Album of the Year, just that last February.

  Taking the phone, Noah studied the photo. “Which one is Trevor?”

  Not having people just know who he and Glam were was so weird, it took him a second to answer. “The one licking his statue.”

  Eyes dancing with laughter, blond highlights glimmering against his tan, Trevor stood between Jamie and Danny. The quiet, shy one of the trio, Danny smiled like everybody’s All American to the left. To the right, Jamie held his award like a mic, and mock sang into it. He snorted at himself.

  I look like an idiot.

  Noah passed him the phone, expression dry. “Was it the tongue that attracted you to him?”

  Satisfaction at Noah’s jab had him grinning. He swirled his finger around the little circle on the back of the phone case. “I think he was just...there. He told me he thought I was hot. But he just wanted to borrow my Bugatti.”

  “What was that look about before?” Noah nudged his chin toward the phone.

  Jamie’s lifted his head. “What look?”

  “The one when you were searching for the photo of Trevor to show me.”

  Looking down at his hands, Jamie turned the phone over to stare at the black screen. He blinked a few times, then raised his head to look Noah in the eye with his best boy-band smile. “I don’t remember.”

  Noah’s gaze went flat in a way that made Jamie’s skitter away. He hadn’t seen that expression since before he’d been caned, and it hadn’t quite seemed like this even then. “Get a penny from the dish on my dresser.”

  The subject shift threw him, and Jamie scrunched up his nose. “What?”

  Noah stared him down until Jamie got up. A leather dish on the dresser held a handful of coins. Trailing his fingertips through the pennies and dimes, Jamie felt his brain skip into the groove he’d found with Doc. Dammit. He was in trouble for lying.

  Though how torture-by-spare-change worked, he had no clue.

  Coin between his fingers, he returned to the side of the bed, gaze lowered.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just…” He shook his head, feeling Noah’s eyes on him. Whatever this was, he deserved it. Had known better than to lie. Doc would be freaking pissed that it had taken him all of twenty minutes to get this far in over his head with something so basic. “What do you want me to do, sir?”

  Jutting his chin toward the far wall, Noah regarded him, disappointment in his tone. “You’re going to stand, facing the wall, and hold the penny against it with your nose. Every time you drop it, you add another. Get comfortable, you’re going to be there awhile.”

  How hard can it be to hold a penny with your nose?

  Was Noah still not really punishing him for stuff? Doc had said Noah would be different when he returned, but somehow he’d thought that meant he was going to take less crap, not give him corner time.

  He tipped forward, the penny cold against his nose, the room not terribly warm outside of the covers. Quiet earth tones consumed his vision and he sighed, wishing for...something. The ridges of the coin pressed into his skin when he applied the amount of pressure required to keep it firmly in place. He realized belatedly that he wouldn’t be able to tip his forehead to help him hold the position. This was going to be...tricky, but not impossible.

  “Having you in bed with me was much more pleasant. It’s a shame you didn’t consider that earlier.” Noah’s tone hardened. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”

  Jamie blinked fast, chest constricting. His breaths became shallow with his effort not to shed the heated tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Yeah. This was the sucky part. Knowing he’d failed Noah, having to stand here like a freaking eight-year-old.

  Behind him covers rustled. Would Noah try to stand and go to the bathroom himself? He nearly turned to look, realizing he wouldn’t be able to help, or fetch him water, or anything at all. He might be suffering with his guilt, but his Dom was going to suffer too, all because he was too weak to tell him the answer to something as s
imple as how that photo of Trevor had made him feel.

  He swallowed as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

  Sounds burbled from Noah’s phone, distracting from his self-pity as Noah began to play a noisy game. He frowned, trying to picture Noah playing Lollipop Luau or whatever that candy game was. The game made a screwball sound, like large teeth crunching on one of Reed’s penis pops and Jamie jerked, losing focus.

  The penny clattered to the floor.

  “Sorry, sir. I’ll get another one.” Head down, he went to the dish, got the second one, then brought it to the wall, collecting the other one as he went.

  “Get two more. I’m not impressed.” The sound of another crunch, but the cheerful noise contrasted with Noah’s tone. “You can do better.”

  Eyes lowered, Jamie nodded, his middle sick. Eyeing the dish, he realized this task was going to get impossible quickly. Sandwiching the four pennies together, he wondered what would happen if he got to fifty. They’d be there for days, because no way could he hold more than five or six at a time. He leaned forward, pennies positioned and breathed deep, trying to tune out the game. Remember what Doc had taught him.

  I’m standing here because I failed my Dom. I lied to him. I’m lucky he’s correcting me and allowing me to learn from my mistakes. He’s taking his time to make me a better submissive.

  Fingers going to the ring on his collar, he tugged, finding comfort in the pull of the metal along the back of his neck.

  The game continued behind him. Across the room, the door opened. He stiffened, the muscles along his neck and back screaming.

  “Doc… Matt.”

  Jamie jerked again. The coins rolled across the floor. He chased after them and saw Doc— Matt next to him with a pitying stare—taking Noah’s temperature. “I brought the boy to take care of you.”

  Stilling, Jamie fisted the coins.

  Noah texted Doc…

  Shame’s liquid heat poured over him again. He grabbed another penny. Faced the wall.

  “Roll to your side— Matthew, help him.” Sounds of rustling, Noah’s quiet hiss of pain, followed.

  Breaths quickened, jaw working, anger rolled over Jamie. At himself. His shoulders tensed and the pressure against his nose ached. Humiliation followed, twisting his stomach. His Dom was having to use another sub to get the care he needed because he’d failed to perform one basic task. Noah had been interested in him, talking to him like an adult, and he’d behaved like a child.

  Dammit. I’m so sorry.

  “I’ll change these this afternoon.” Sounds behind him of Doc rummaging in his bag, opening a bottle. “Matthew, get Noah his coffee and some water, then keep him company.”

  The door opened and closed as Matt presumably went to make the coffee. Jamie pictured Trevor in his place, waiting on Noah. Babbling about that stupid movie score. Prancing around looking effortlessly beautiful and submissive. Which was so bullshit, because Trevor would never submit to anyone, but apparently his brain wanted to add to the punishment, because it played the image over and over.

  Matt came in with Noah’s coffee, the scent tickling Jamie’s nose, forcing him to clench his jaw against the impulse to breathe deep. He flexed his fingers and toes, trying to get some blood moving in them.

  “So, Matt. When did you learn to fight?” Noah began a conversation with the other submissive, his tone kind and interested.

  Like it had been before…with him.

  Matt’s quiet answers were lost on him. He closed his eyes, floating on Noah’s deeper tones, sorrow and shame heavy in his chest. The coins edged downward and he eventually lost control of them again. Rather than pick them up from the floor, he grabbed five new ones, unable to see through the tears to find them. His fingers shook as he put them together, circle on top of circle.

  He could do this. Noah wanted him to do this, to correct his failure, to learn from it, and he would. For as long as it took. For some screwed up reason, he thought as soon as he started wanting to be forgiven, Noah would forgive him. It had always worked that way before. The gulf seemed so wide now, he had no idea how to jump across it. What if Noah didn’t do forgiveness, the same way Doc didn’t?

  Will he take away my collar?

  His fingers returned to his neck. Contact with the metal steadied him and he breathed deep. Noah knew what he was doing. This was going to be okay. Noah was only showing him what he expected of him as his boy. Respect, honesty, all the things that people should be giving each other in a relationship anyway, except the consequences were clearer as a submissive.

  He breathed deep, getting a grip. There was a reason he was here, and it had nothing to do with Noah. It had to do with his own mistakes. Noah was giving him a way to learn from and correct them. A way to make it right. To prove he wouldn’t do it again. He breathed in again. Out. Floated on the pain in his neck and let it wrap around his shoulders, an anchor. A gift. Relaxing into that knowledge, he watched the fire climb up his legs, over his ass and back, shoulders and neck. Licking at his skin.

  “It’s done.”

  Jamie lifted his head, fumbling the coins, unsure whether or not Noah had spoken to him.

  He turned when Noah didn’t tell him to take more pennies, keeping himself upright with his hand against the wall. He glanced at the clock by the bed, expecting it to be one p.m. The little hand pointed to the six. A glance outside said it was morning, not night.

  “But…”

  Smile sympathetic, Matt slipped out of the room.

  Noah crooked his finger. Dropping the pennies into the dish on his way by, Jamie went to the bed, eyes down, one hand clasping his wrist behind his back.

  “Do you have any idea how important trust is? Not only in a relationship.” Noah tapped under Jamie’s chin, waiting until he looked up. “If you’ll lie to me about small things, how can I trust you if we’re doing an intense scene? To use your safeword. To let me know when I’ve hit a trigger or you’re in pain?”

  Shame that he’d made Noah doubt his ability to come to the relationship honestly, with integrity, spiked again. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

  “I know you are.” Noah latched onto his wrist, pulling him gently to sit beside him. “If you’re not comfortable telling me something, say so. We can discuss it. I know you get distracted and have a hard time focusing though, and I’m working on that with you. It won’t help if I can’t tell when it’s real.”

  Jamie ran his fingers along his collar, ducking his head. “Trevor hurt me. It’s not fair that he’s happy and getting good things… He should be miserable. And—” He fisted his hand against his throat, scowling. “Junkless.”

  “Hm.” Noah his hand over Jamie’s thigh, tapped close to his dick.

  Jamie jumped on reflex, eyes widening.

  “Go to the dresser and get me one of those pennies.”

  Oh, no… Seriously?

  Slipping off the bed, he went to the change tray—his new nemesis—to fetch a shiny penny. Knelt prettily by the side of the bed, palm up, penny in the middle. Head down, he waited, trusting Noah knew what was best.

  Warm fingers caressed his palm, taking the coin. Jamie lowered his hand but didn’t lift his head.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth. This is much prettier than that petty catitude. Fix it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jamie remained silent, waiting. Noah would tell him what he needed to do.

  “Look at me.” Quiet words, serious.

  Tilting his head, Jamie met gray eyes. All rock, no storm.

  Holding up the penny, Noah twirled it between two fingers. “This is your reminder. I’ll keep it with me. I like your spirit, your fun, but you walk a line. Go over it and I will punish you.”

  Jamie nodded, his world settling. “Thank you, sir.”

  There wouldn’t be ambiguity and uncertainty, for him or anyone else at The Asylum. They would know he was Noah’s boy. That Noah cared enough about him to see him, really see him, and correct him. Or show him off on his arm, or anywhere e
lse he chose. However he chose.

  “Good boy.” Noah’s lips lifted as he framed Jamie’s jaw with his hand. “Now get up here. You survived Doc. I won’t make you earn the furniture.”

  “I don’t think anyone is ever prepared for Doc.” His lips twisted wryly. “But I think maybe he could give you some Dom decorating tips.”

  A sharp laugh escaped Noah as he shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ve never been that fond of Night of the Living Dead. And I prefer to deal with naughty subs in more creative ways—that they know they’ll survive.”

  “Would you mind, sir, if I gave you your Christmas present now? It’s just in my drawer.” Jamie looked toward the dresser, one knee on the mattress. “If you feel up to it after all this?”

  Noah’s brow rose with a spark of interest in his eyes, along with pleasure, as though the idea of any kind of gift from Jamie made him very happy. “Of course. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer for yours, but I’d love to enjoy some of the holiday I seem to have a bad habit of missing.”

  Already halfway to the dresser, Jamie glanced over his shoulder. “Tracey said we get two Christmases this year. Once you were back. So, you didn’t miss it. It’s postponed, but this…” Hand on the drawer pull, he rolled his lips between his teeth. “I want to give it to you in private.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Noah adjusted himself on the bed. “Some things are special and better kept for us to share. Everyone else gets plenty of our time, and they had you all to themselves long enough. It’s my turn.”

  Velvet bag heavy in his palm, Jamie approached the bed, hesitated, and went to his own side, scrambling up to sit cross-legged by Noah’s hip. “I like that you want to be alone with me. It’s nice to get to know you better. You seem more...solid.”

  Noah nodded, resting his hand on Jamie’s thigh. “I am. But one thing that never changed was wanting to be back here with you. Not being able to so much as call was difficult, though my uncle had his reasons. Enough of all that though. I want to see what my little cat’s been holding on to for me so patiently.”

 

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