Now that the PR disaster had been averted and with the rest of the band safely home with their families, Asher was free to introduce his guests to the long driveway framed by palm trees. Asher’s dad used to call it his personal Sunset Boulevard. The house wasn’t one of those designed to pretend their owners were members of royalty, but it had a grand front with a sizeable balcony on the second floor and a large double door that led straight into a foyer with a ceiling that was open to the roof. Asher had replaced the crystal chandelier with a modern glass sculpture depicting life-sized doves emerging from the centre. When lit, it looked as if all the birds were fleeing an explosion in the middle.
After several weeks of absence, Asher was bound to exchange a few words with the housekeeper before she departed, leaving Asher and his guests alone within the grand walls. Knowing Sid’s opinion on grandeur and Abra’s recent release from confinement, Asher decided to treat them to food in the cozier and smaller of the living rooms, which he’d also had remodelled.
With textured white walls and a fireplace, it had furniture upholstered with cream leather, and a dark brown hardwood floor. Plants and a simple yet large circular lamp of cast iron, as well as several pieces of modern art made it into a pleasant space for lounging and listening to music. This time, the wooden coffee table was filled with sandwiches and salads to suit everyone’s needs, and he eagerly acted as a host, offering Sid and Abra drinks to kick-start their lunch.
Her eyes were now wider than when they’d first busted her out of that cell in the basement. “This is all yours?” she asked, accepting the freshly squeezed orange juice.
Sid was looking around warily like a wild cat put into a fancy cattery.
Asher scratched his head and sipped the cold brew his cook had prepared early this morning. “Yes, but I only really use some of the space. It used to be my parents’. I want you both to feel at home here.”
Sid became even more restless, circling the sofa as if he wasn’t sure if he should sit or not.
Abra, on the other hand, was happy to talk. “What did your parents do?”
Her smile made Asher relax into the seat, and he helped himself to some of the salad. “My mom worked in costuming for the movies, and my dad was a composer. He did the score for The Last Flight of the Cormorant.”
In the end Sid found himself a spot in an armchair with a bottle of cold beer. Asher could only hope it would loosen him up.
“That’s amazing!” Abra ran her fingers over the glass coffee table in front of her.
“Is that them?” Sid asked quietly, pointing to the photo on the little shelf next to him.
Asher sighed, staring at the picture of his mom and dad after the Oscars in 2005. In the photo, Dad was kissing the trophy while Mom scowled, pretending to be jealous.
“Yeah.”
Sid picked up the photo, making something inside of Asher crumble. He’d been the one to invite them here, and had so much pride in the look of the house, but seeing Sid handle such a private item felt as if he was peering into his soul. As if it was him who was being touched.
“What were they like? As parents?”
For a moment, Asher wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t a question he was ready for, as no one had ever asked him such personal stuff. “Oh…they were really funny. Mom was super chill and had never-ending energy. She’d come back from work and still want to do stuff with us. And dad worked from his home studio, so he was almost always there. Quiet, but he would always listen.”
Abra looked at him in amazement, but Sid just kept staring at the photo, even his beer forgotten.
“Our father is all about talking not listening, right Sid?”
“You could say so.”
Asher swallowed hard. “The guy who was shouting so much at the gig, was that your dad?”
Abra shrugged, playing with her hair. She appeared so grim in the gray, drab clothes, not like a girl her age should. “It’s him. I think he chose this concert to picket because he knew Siddim was performing too.”
“Don’t call me that. It’s just ‘Sid’. I bet he wanted to make a point to me. Well, he can go to hell, because he can’t do shit anymore.”
The bad language must had been what made Abra go silent. She focused on the juice instead as Sid muttered a hardly audible ‘sorry’.
Asher couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and covered Sid’s hand with his own. There was no way to make up for Sid’s shitty childhood, but he could at least make him happy now.
“I saw that you have a piano. Can I play a bit?” Abra asked.
Asher smiled at her. “Sure.”
She instantly got up. “Music always brought me the most happiness.”
Sid nodded. “Me too. I could always get lost in it.”
Abra left, and suddenly heat rose where Asher and Sid’s bodies connected.
“You think she’s uncomfortable with us touching?” Asher asked but didn’t take his hand away. He itched to close it around Sid’s wrist and take him out of the house, through the garden, to see the surprise he’d started working on remotely even before Sid had agreed to live here with him. His fingers would be like a cuff, warm and yet steel-firm where it would have rest above Sid’s angular hand.
Sid glanced up, as if pulled out of a dream. “I mean…maybe. But she’s gotta get over that. She’s been doing well around other people the last few days.”
Asher watched Sid, gently squeezing his hand.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Sid said as the first notes of the piano resonated through the air. “It’s just hard to get used to having a sister in my life again.”
“Is she the only one?”
“No, but from what she said the others are very devoted to the doctrine. Ash…I’m sorry I dragged you into all this. My fucked-up family stuff and all that. You thought the masochism was weird, and then I bring up this shit. You deserve something more normal.” Sid looked around the room as if it was screaming that he didn’t fit in with his mohawk, and tattoos, and ripped jeans.
Asher exhaled and tugged on Sid’s hand. He expected resistance, but Sid rose from the armchair and settled in Asher’s lap, letting himself be held. The vulnerability of it had Asher’s heart trembling, and he gently kissed the hand he was still holding. Since his family died, he’d never felt as close with anyone as he did with Sid.
The tall, icy wall Sid had built up was melting away, revealing the soft insides that could be prodded with crops and marked with Asher’s hand. Sid was no longer resisting, and Asher’s mind teased him with what the two of them could do if they only left Abra for a while. Just weeks ago, he’d have been content with just holding Sid’s hand, like a boy finally getting to touch his first crush. Now that floodgates have opened, revealing needs he didn’t know he’d had, it was as if his brain gained a whole new shortcut to desire.
Sid exhaled against Asher’s cheek. “You also had many siblings.”
Asher glanced to the side table, at a photo taken just weeks before the accident that left him desperately alone. In the picture, they all posed in snowboarding and skiing outfits, before embarking on a day of fun in the snow.
“Three sisters and a brother. We were very close.”
“I always thought you were the kind of guy who only basked in the sun.”
Asher laughed, petting Sid’s back. “We have a house on the outskirts of Aspen. Dad loved that place and was very involved in the project. There’s even a fence designed to look like the music sheet to the main theme from The Last Flight of the Cormorant. That’s where this was taken. I still go there when I want to be alone.”
He held Sid’s hand to his lips, smelling the aroma of skin. He wanted to experience that scent mingling with that of leather, so see a cuff safely tucked around Sid’s wrist to keep him still. Slowly, he opened his mouth and gently bit into the flesh on the inside of Sid’s hand. The way he let out a little whine but didn’t recoil, made Asher glad Abra wasn’t here anymore, because his dick twitched
in his jeans.
“Don’t say that. You’re a good person. Weird—yes, but in a good way,” he whispered in encouragement but licked along the skin that still bore pale traces of his teeth. It was as if the pain he was offering Sid was a collar that Sid chose to accept around his neck. He was there, not recoiling or running, or finding new mean ways to put Asher down, but openly accepting pretty much anything Asher offered. Would he still feel that way once they went to the guest house?
Sid snorted and leaned into Asher, making the protective feelings blossom and spread roots into Asher, extending branches toward Sid as if Asher could hide him from the world and keep him safe if Sid only stayed in the embrace.
“You don’t believe that. I could never understand why you got so hung up on me in the first place.”
Asher gathered him even closer, and Sid submitted to the embrace completely, curling up in Asher’s lap, as if he wasn’t a big bad punk rocker and a drummer in an up and coming band. It was the kind of trust that Asher had never expected from someone as guarded as Sid, yet now it was offered willingly, along with a tool to crunch Sid’s thorny shell.
But what if one misstep meant he’d be pushed away again? If what Sid wanted was this dominant sadist, Asher couldn’t allow himself to be too mushy.
Something in Asher recoiled as his brain rushed to offer him an answer Sid would have wanted to hear. Being vulnerable like he was now, he likely didn’t want to hear sob stories about a guy, who on the surface wanted for nothing yet felt desperately lonely among so-called friends he couldn’t trust.
Asher could never tell if someone was befriending him because he had connections and money, because he was hot and available, because they were the same social class, or because they wanted a genuine connection. In the end, he was always wary among people, but Sid, so unapologetic and not at all hesitant to put Asher in his place, had always been genuine.
But that wasn’t what Sid really wanted to hear, was it? He wanted a strong Dominant, not a boy in a man’s body, who was scared of rejection and being alone. So he would give Sid what he wanted.
“You know what they say. Once a predator gets a taste of human blood, they’re hooked. And nothing’s better than that first bite.”
The smile his words caused meant he’d chosen them well. Maybe it was easy because at least partially it was true. Sid would get the part he liked, and the delicate balance between them would be upheld.
Sid stroked Asher’s chest through the T-shirt, igniting a flurry of sparks. Since they’d taken Abra with them, there had been no opportunities for sex, so Asher was dying for a taste of what he’d grown to crave from Sid.
“Who would have thought that little shark would grow such big teeth.”
Asher’s dick stirred, as if Sid was touching it already. He exhaled loud enough for Sid to notice, and moved his hand up the long leg. “Yes. And blood’s constantly trickling into water.”
Sid placed the gentlest kiss to the side of Asher’s head. “You know I’m at your command.” It wasn’t exactly true, since they’d had that ugly argument before getting Abra, but it still gave him goose bumps to hear those words. Sid was usually more about rough play and being forced down, so hearing him be so obedient before a good thrashing was a thrill.
Asher licked his lips and moved his hand up Sid’s chest, hoping to leave a trail of fire in its wake. He only spoke once he held Sid by the throat. The Adam’s apple bobbed against his palm, so vulnerable he could crush it with ease. “There’s something I want to show you.”
“Oh?” The uncertainty in Sid’s eyes made Asher smile. To think that for so many years he’d assumed it was Sid who had power over him. It felt good to be followed by a puppy for once.
“Uh-huh. Something to correct your recent behavior.”
Sid swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple pressed into Asher’s hand. “I have been a bit erratic…”
Asher gave a slow nod. “Shall we tell your sister we’re going out?”
With pheromones sizzling in the air and anticipation coursing through Asher’s body, talking to Abra felt somewhat wrong, but there was no avoiding it. He’d told her she could play the piano as long as she liked, and where her room was if she got tired.
All the while Sid stood close by, twitchy as if having to wait was already part of his punishment.
Minutes later, Asher led Sid through the garden, to the guest house hidden away behind trees and bushes. When he touched Sid this time, he didn’t entwine their fingers. No, he made him walk along the path first, with Asher’s hand resting on his nape, to put the point across that he was the one in power here.
The sun licked their skin, casting patterns onto Sid where it got through the leaves above. Asher’s brain already switched to tunnel vision, his body both excited and apprehensive, since he’d only seen the effects of the metamorphosis of the guest house in photos and on video. Would Sid like the surprise? Did he suspect anything? Asher’s tongue itched to ask, but he remained silent, wary of spoiling the mood.
The house had been built to resemble an idyllic cottage made of stone, and was completely different from the giant Mediterranean-style villa. With vines growing over one of its walls and flowers in its mini-garden attracting bees, it was a little bit of a fairytale transported from some idyllic location in Europe to Calabasas.
Swallowing hard, he unlocked the main door and glanced at Sid. “Close your eyes.”
Sid stared back at him, but Asher had no doubt that when he turned to face forward again, Sid would follow the order. “Should I be scared?” It sounded like a joke, but Sid’s intonation wavered.
Asher groaned and moved to stand behind Sid, so close he could sense his body heat before they even touched. He ran the cold keys down Sid’s back, smiling at the small shudder it elicited. “You should. Tell me, what do you think I prepared for you?”
Sid swallowed loudly. “Pain. Punishment. Canes and paddles maybe? Restraints?”
Asher made a little growl, leaning in to rub his teeth against Sid’s nape. “Your list of limits gives me a lot of freedom. I intend to use that to the fullest,” he said and opened the door, leading Sid into the small hall. This part of the house hadn’t been changed, but what Asher spotted through an open doorway had ants crawling over his skin.
He locked the entrance behind them and led Sid into the dungeon. The fireplace was still there, but instead of the cute figurines and English china, the mantelpiece had chains for decoration. Flower-patterned sofas, cozy wooden furniture, and frilled curtains had made way for bare stone walls and bondage furniture designed to appear worn, made with wood in natural colors and black leather. The fancy dungeons with shiny surfaces he’d seen online didn’t sit that well with him from the start.
With Sid reacting so well to fear, Asher wanted to make this space into something daunting, devoid of hope like a medieval torture room, and that was exactly what he got. Bars in the windows allowed no way out, and the array of tools and sex toys that had been arranged for him by an acquaintance who knew his way around that kind of stuff was shocking, even to Asher. There were even some fisting dildos, which he most definitely didn’t ask for…but now that they were there, available for use, his eyes were drawn to their wide shapes.
His breath caught, and he led Sid straight to the most extreme toys. He wasn’t sure which ones he’d be comfortable using in the end, but he enjoyed the variety on offer nevertheless.
“Open your eyes.”
He knew Sid had followed the order when he flinched against Asher’s hand. Over Sid’s shoulder, Asher watched the whip with tiny metal hooks attached to the strips of leather that Asher already knew would only serve decorative purposes.
Sid stayed put for a while, but then turned his head, assessing the space with his lips slightly parted. “When… I…”
“When?” Asher asked, squeezing his hands on Sid’s shoulder and turning him around to look at all the dread-inducing implements Asher had prepared with him in mind. Not all had been unpack
ed yet, but he didn’t mind at all. The boxes laid out in the corner only enforced the impression that this wasn’t a place for pleasure but torture.
“When did you get this done?” He wouldn’t stay still, glancing from one side of the room to the other, focusing for a bit longer on the leather-upholstered bench with cuffs attached to its legs.
Asher cleared his throat. Being able to organize this kind of stuff without actually being present was one of the perks of having a large budget and knowing people from all walks of life, like Buck, who owned a dungeon in LA. The venue had been used for filming of several music videos, as well as photoshoots for Noise, and sometimes even hosted music-related events. Asher and Buck weren’t exactly friends, but they knew one another well enough for Asher to reach out with his unusual request.
“I had it arranged while we traveled. Do you like it?”
“It’s pretty amazing.” Sid brushed his fingers over the mean whip with a certain shyness to the gesture, as if he were afraid it could jump off the wall and rip his skin with its hooks.
Asher cleared his throat and stood behind Sid, placing his hand on his narrow, bony hips. “The people who did this for me went a bit overboard. I didn’t personally choose it all, if you’re wondering. But I’m open to try most things in the future.”
Sid pulled away from the whip, pressing into Asher with his ass in the most glorious of ways. “I think I’ve had enough cutting for a while.”
Asher groaned, rolling his groin against Sid’s buttocks and sliding his arms around him to be closer. Sid’s hair smelled of hotel shampoo, unpretentious and authentic like all of him. “Good. That’s my limit. But we can try something completely different today.”
Sid looked over his shoulder, so open and trusting Asher could gorge on him all day long. “What do you have in mind?”
Asher smirked and moved, to give himself space or he’d end up getting too aroused too soon. “I’ll put you to work. Undress.”
Sid watched him but didn’t even ask why, just followed the order starting with his T-shirt. Asher had to cross his arms on his chest to not reach out and caress all that tattooed skin. He loved everything about being in charge. From the trust Sid put in him to having such complete access to Sid’s body in any way he wished.
Just Here for the Pain (gay rocker BDSM romance) (The Underdogs Book 2) Page 15