The Eager Boy

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The Eager Boy Page 8

by Sean Michael


  Chapter Ten

  STACK LEFT the roast in the kitchen on low, the bowls with the carrots and turnips—and the one with the potatoes—in there too, keeping warm. Then he made his way to the gym. He was almost fifteen minutes late, supper having taken longer than he’d anticipated.

  He jogged over and went in, looking for Robin in the reception area.

  “I let him in, Master, even though his membership was cancelled. He’s warming up on the treadmill.” Jude was a good sub, solid.

  “Thank you. And do me a favor—reinstate his membership, please. You can put it on my card you have on file for my own membership.”

  “Of course, Master.” Jude nodded and returned to his computer, typing immediately.

  Stack had worn his workout clothing, so all he had to do was throw his bag in a locker and change into his sneakers. Then he headed to the main room and checked out the treadmills.

  Robin was running doggedly at a fierce angle, pushing himself hard, face beet red, sweat pouring from him.

  He moved to stand in front of Robin’s treadmill. “You’d get more out of that if you weren’t pushing quite so hard, boy.”

  Robin’s steps stumbled, and he almost fell, eyes huge and scared for the split second before Stack slapped the emergency stop button. “Oh. Oh God.”

  He reached out and grabbed Robin under the arms, helping to steady him. “I didn’t mean to stumble you.” Which was why he’d come around to the front of the treadmill. “Where had you disappeared to?”

  “In my own head. Boss is bitchy, and I was trying to run it out. Hey.”

  “Hey.” He leaned in and kissed his boy gently. “I’d say you’re more than a little warmed up, so why don’t we move to the weights now that I’m here to spot you. We can leave your boss on the side of the road here with the treadmills.”

  “Sounds like heaven.” Robin beamed at him, smiled at him like he was magical.

  He used his towel to wipe down the machine, then handed it to Robin. Taking Robin’s hand, he led his boy over to the weight area.

  “We’ll start easy—use the machines while I warm up.”

  “Yes, Master. I haven’t been on the weights since… before.”

  “Then start slowly. I don’t want you to push too hard and blow something out.” He gave Robin a stern look. “I mean it, boy.”

  “Yes, Master. Light weight. I hear you.”

  “You’re not a lightweight, boy. You just have to do light weights.” He gave Robin a wink. “I’ll be with you in five.”

  “Yes, Master.” Robin stopped on the way to grab more water.

  Stack watched for a moment, admiring the slender form. That was his boy. Smiling, he did his stretches, warming his muscles up.

  Robin spoke to a few men who came up, smiled politely and refused their assistance, he was sure. It made him hurry, just a little, so he could help his boy.

  He went to Robin’s side. “You ready for me to spot you on the bench press, baby?” They could spot each other. Just like they used to.

  “Yes, Master.” Robin’s eyes clung to him, the desire palpable.

  It looked like they were going to do other things upstairs in the private area. Like they used to.

  “Let’s start with ten a side and see how you do from there.”

  “I can do it.” His boy would do anything for him. Which was why he’d started fairly low. He wasn’t going to let Robin hurt himself by trying too hard to prove himself.

  He got the weights set up and stood at Robin’s head. “Let me know how that feels.”

  “Easy. Really easy. I can take another ten.”

  “Do ten reps with these, and we’ll see how you feel then.”

  They worked together well, and by the time Stack called time, they were both sweating and shaking with fatigue.

  “Showers,” he told Robin. “On the Dom’s floor.” They’d be able to make out up there. And he suddenly wanted Robin up against the tiles, his boy clinging to him.

  “Oh…. Yes, Master.” His boy’s sudden erection made Stack smile.

  He took Robin’s hand and grabbed their bags, led his boy upstairs. Anticipation thrummed through him. This all felt brand-new again.

  Robin’s fingers twined with his, holding on tight, thumb sliding on his hand. It felt good, kept his skin tingling. God, these stairs were taking forever.

  “I know, right? There should be a post workout elevator.”

  He hadn’t even realized he’d said it out loud. He chuckled, nodded. “Damn right. I guess if we’re too pooped to do the stairs, we shouldn’t be doing other stuff either, eh?” He used his pass to get them through the door and made a beeline for the showers. He’d been right—the place was quiet. It would be busy after seven, he was sure, but right now, everyone was out having supper.

  Robin was right there, close and hot, buzzing for him. His boy was gleaming with sweat, glowing with health and, he liked to think, from his attention.

  He turned to Robin and began to undress his boy, beginning with Robin’s tight T-shirt.

  Those pretty nips were swollen and pink, the new rings dragging at Robin’s skin. He hummed happily in the back of his throat and touched a fingertip to each nipple, loving the way Robin moaned for him.

  “Are they sore, boy?”

  “No, Master. Tender. Sensitive.”

  “Excellent.” He gave one a gentle tug, but he knew he needed to wait a few days for Robin’s nipples to be a little more used to them. But there were plenty of other ways to play. “Take your shoes and socks off, boy.” There just wasn’t a sexy way to get rid of those.

  “Yes, Master.” Robin knelt down, stripping first his shoes, then Stack’s.

  “Mmm.” His boy had very good instincts. “I’ll do your shorts, and then you can undress me.”

  “Yes, Master. Yes.” Robin stood, cock hard as diamonds.

  He used that to his advantage, pushing at the sides of Robin’s tight little gym shorts. That erect cock got caught, as he’d known it would, and it was pulled downward as he continued to push the shorts off. He kept pushing, watching as Robin’s prick finally got free of the material, springing up to slap Robin’s belly. Stack moaned—such a lovely sight.

  “Sweet slut. I could play with you for hours.”

  “Please, Master.”

  He loved that Robin’s first response was to beg for what he was offering. He kissed the top of Robin’s head, then took a step back and held out his arms. “Make me naked, boy.”

  “Yes, Master.” Robin stripped him with a gentle touch, fingers dragging over his skin, loving on him.

  “Mmm.” He did love the feeling of Robin’s fingers on his skin. Nobody touched him like Robin did. No one would ever love him like Robin.

  As soon as they were both naked, he took Robin’s hands and backed up, leading Robin into one of the shower stalls, holding his boy’s gaze the whole way.

  Robin never looked away from him. He returned the favor, reaching blindly behind him to turn on the water.

  The hot water started up, steam filling the air immediately. He hummed, the heat feeling good against his muscles. He’d worked hard, and this was amazing. He stepped back, pulling Robin so his boy was also in the flow.

  Robin reached up, begging a kiss. Cupping Robin’s cheek with one hand, he bent to bring their lips together. Robin’s mouth was pliable beneath his own, begging wordlessly for anything he would give.

  How had he let this man walk away? It wasn’t going to happen again, he could guarantee that.

  He deepened the kiss, tasting Robin thoroughly. His boy tasted like joy, like hunger and wonder and salt. He reveled in it as the water fell around them, closing them in their own world.

  Robin rubbed against him, humming into their kisses. He reached for the soap and slicked his hands up, moving to cover each inch of Robin’s skin.

  “Oh, Master. Love you. Touch me so well.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” He handed the soap to his boy.

 
Robin chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Master. It is my pleasure.”

  “Good.” He kept watching Robin as he waited for his boy’s touch.

  Robin began at his feet, washing him with expert hands, with respect, worship. He groaned. Robin made him feel like a god. No one else had ever done that for him. His legs were cleaned, his balls, his cock and ass—it was magical, necessary. He widened his stance, running his fingers over Robin.

  After rinsing him, Robin licked and nuzzled his balls, tongue flicking behind. Groaning, he leaned back against the tile. “Love your mouth, boy.”

  “Let me lick you, Master? Please?”

  “Yes, boy. Eat me up like a cake.”

  “Lick you until you come.” Robin turned him, spread his cheeks with gentle fingers, and began to lap at his hole.

  Stack groaned, the gentle licks echoing through his body.

  His boy. Jesus. His boy.

  The world seemed to tighten to his hole, that flicking tongue. He dropped his hand to his cock, stroking slowly as Robin worked his hole, tongue agile, hot enough that he thought he might catch fire.

  Soft, happy sounds vibrated him, making him jerk harder.

  “Don’t stop,” he ordered, bracing himself with his free hand against the tile. He felt the press of Robin’s tongue into him, fucking him. No. No, his boy wasn’t going to stop.

  He jacked himself harder, his eyes closing, all his focus on the wonderful sensations.

  Robin began to stroke his balls, roll them, encouraging him toward the edge.

  “That’s it, boy. Yes. Yes.” He stroked hard, pleasure spiking. Robin pushed in deep, nudging his prostate from behind his balls.

  He cried out, no words this time, just a shout, somewhat muffled by the water falling around them. Spunk poured out of him, falling to the tile on the floor and washing down the drain.

  Robin rested against him, cheek on his ass. Stack stayed like that for a while, holding himself up, Robin warmer than the water where they touched. He panted, catching his breath as he came down from his orgasm.

  “Love,” Robin whispered.

  “Yes, boy. So big.” He took a deep breath and turned, leaning back against the tile. He pulled Robin up along his body and took a kiss, tasting himself there.

  His boy was hard as a rock, heavy and hot against his thigh.

  He pushed his leg between Robin’s, giving his boy something to rub against. “Take what you need.” Putting his hand on Robin’s ass, he encouraged Robin to rub.

  “Yes, Master.” Robin writhed against him, riding his thigh.

  He went back to kissing Robin, taking the sweet mouth and sliding his tongue in and out with easy rhythm. He dragged his hand up and down along Robin’s spine, the water keeping things slick. Robin gasped for him, tongue dragging along his.

  His prick took notice of their activities, staying half-hard. He could wait, though, until they got home. Although the thought of fucking Robin against the tile with the water falling down around them was tempting.

  No, he wanted Robin bent over the back of the sofa. Groaning at the thought, he grabbed Robin’s ass again and added pressure and speed to the frottage. He wanted to get Robin off sooner rather than later so they could go home and get to activities that would find them needing another shower.

  “Master. Need.” Robin leaned in harder, sobbing with hunger.

  “Then show me. Come for me. Come on me.” Robin’s come would be slightly hotter than the water. He would know when it happened.

  “Thank you!” Like that was all he needed, Robin shot, heat spraying up over Stack’s hip.

  He breathed in deeply, wanting to fill his nose with Robin’s scent. Because of the water, it was faint, but it was there, making him moan into Robin’s mouth.

  “Master. Love.” Robin kissed him, sweet and lazy.

  He gave Robin a smile as they kissed, making it sloppy, but that was okay. “We should get out of the shower and get dressed—supper’s in the oven, and I want you over the couch for me tonight.”

  “Oh, what’s for supper?” Robin turned the water off and wrapped a towel around Stack’s waist.

  He loved how Robin always took care of him without being prompted or asked. “Roast and all the fixings.”

  “Oh yum! That sounds perfect.”

  “I thought you might like it. I also figured I could get it in the oven and leave it while we worked out. Of course, everything took longer than I’d anticipated, which was why I was late.”

  He pointed to his bag where he’d stowed a change of clothes for both of them.

  “It always works that way, love. I needed to work out my work rage anyway.”

  Stack frowned. “Work rage? Do I need to have a talk with someone?” He didn’t like Robin having rage from work. It wasn’t healthy.

  “It won’t help, but I appreciate the offer. She’s just grumpy.”

  Stack grunted. Many people called him grumpy. “Do you get rage from me too?”

  “No. Sometimes I get frustrated, sad. Julie treats me like a dog sometimes.”

  “That’s not right.” He was pleased he didn’t make Robin angry, though frustrated and sad weren’t great either. Being treated like a dog, though, that wasn’t good at all.

  “No, it’s not. But it took me a long time to find this job, and I’d like to make it work.”

  “Well, keep me apprised of the situation.” They could always revisit it later.

  “Of course, Master.” Robin dressed quickly, tying his damp hair back.

  Stack pulled his own clothing on and shoved their dirty clothes into his bag, then swung it over his shoulder. “Ready, boy?”

  “Yes, Master. Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “YOU CAN’T go until everything is done.”

  Everything would have been done if you hadn’t been evil and changed everything at 3:00 p.m. on Friday afternoon, Robin thought. “I have plans this evening, Julie.”

  “Cancel them.” She turned back to her iPad as if that was that.

  “I can’t. My… partner and I have plans.”

  She looked at him over the top of her glasses, eyes pinning him to the spot. “Do you like working here, Robin?”

  There was a loaded question. “You know I love my work.”

  “Then I suggest you call your partner and let him know you’re going to be late.” She went back to her iPad.

  He stormed out of her office, went to the men’s room, and called Stack, so pissed he was shaking.

  “Hey, baby. What’s up?”

  “I—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “My boss says I have to stay.”

  “Seriously? We have plans, boy.”

  “I know. I was all caught up, but she changed everything.” He shook, his skin red he was so angry. “I told her I had to go, and she said she’d fire me.”

  “She can’t do that. You could threaten to take her to court. There’s laws against this sort of thing.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” He was tired and frustrated and wanted to go home, but he also was proud of himself for finding this job, for succeeding.

  “You could tell her to shove her job where the sun doesn’t shine.”

  “I could. I want to, but I want to be a responsible adult too.”

  “You have to do what you think is right.”

  Robin sighed. “If nothing else, the artists aren’t to blame for this, and they are the ones who will suffer.”

  “I’ll make new plans, boy. Go do your job.” Stack was practically growling.

  “I’m so sorry. I hate this. I hate it.”

  “Then maybe you need to find a new job.”

  “I’ll start looking.” Maybe he’d have better luck since he hadn’t been out of the job market so long. “I don’t…. Do you want me to come home after? I can go to my apartment.”

  “Of course I want you to come home after. We should get rid of your apartment. You don’t need it anymore.”

  “Could you pick me up? I’ll
buy you a late supper?”

  “Text me when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Master. I love you.” He felt like he could breathe.

  “Love you, Robin.”

  The phone went dead.

  Okay. Okay, breathe. Wash your face. Do your job and leave. Do not call Julie a bitch. He repeated that last one a bunch of times as he worked to make everything perfect. Again.

  It took him more than an hour, but he finished; then he stepped outside to text Stack.

  done. Come get me?

  on my way.

  He stepped back in, gathered his things. He wasn’t working the opening tomorrow. He was going home.

  He’d only just gone back out and was putting on his backpack when he heard the unmistakable roar of Stack’s bike.

  Oh. Hello.

  Julie started out of her office, coming toward him, her mouth moving, but he was already running toward his master.

  Stack stopped the bike and held out the extra helmet. He put it on as quickly as he could and straddled the bike behind Stack, wrapped his arms around his master. Gunning the engine, Stack took off.

  Robin felt his tension begin to melt away immediately, and he relaxed against the strong back. Stack touched his hand and pressed it against his. He tightened his hold, and Stack immediately sped up, the bike growling between his legs.

  Home. For two whole days. Home, home, home.

  Only they didn’t seem to be headed home, the bike going in the wrong direction.

  He didn’t ask. Stack knew what he was doing.

  They moved north for about a half hour, Stack finally pulling in at Bernie’s Fry Shack, the wonderful smell of deep-fried food strong. Stack turned off the bike and pulled off his helmet. “I made new plans for supper.”

  “Oh…. Junk food.” He leaned a second. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Junk food and a nice ride—not too long, not too short and late enough we weren’t stuck in traffic.” Stack took Robin’s helmet from him and twisted, bringing their mouths together for a long kiss.

  He opened, allowing Stack to dissolve the worry, the frustrations, the anger of the day. When the kiss ended, Stack looked at him, stared into him.

 

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