by Willa Okati
“You son of a bitch.” Zach itched to throw a punch, even if a part of him still shuddered away from the thought in horror of daring to lay a finger on his master.
He wasn’t that man anymore. Wouldn’t be again. He made his own way now. Josef could accept that or get out.
Sure.
Josef didn’t respond at first. He broke eye contact with Zach, who shuddered as he could suddenly breathe again, and gazed thoughtfully at the rows of gleaming bottles. “I think you’d like to be honest with me, Zach,” he said. “And I think you need to get this out of your system. Do it.”
“Yeah,” Zach said, licking his lips. The part of him already sending up the alarms heightened its pitch and the rest of him burned with excitement. His cock strained against its confinement. “You want a drink with a secret message inside? I’ll mix you a damned drink.”
Josef arched one eyebrow at Zach and folded his hands on the bar, waiting.
Zach moved at high speed, maybe showing off a little, snagging bottles and glasses. Vodka, bitters, cayenne, lemon. He put the cloudy mixture in front of Josef with a clatter and a clank. “Enjoy.”
Josef didn’t bother tasting the concoction. Zach hadn’t expected him to. “And the name of this?”
It took effort to say but brought a vicious thrill of pride when he’d forced the words out. “Fuck You.”
“The memories warm me at night in your absence, I assure you.” Josef surprised Zach by lifting the glass and sipping. Nothing about him betrayed the bite of the pepper or the burn of the vodka or the sourness of the lemon. “I’d hoped to find you in a mood for the deed, not the drink, nor the insult. To remind you of what you left behind. How good it was before you let fear control you instead of me.”
“Dream on.” The warmth of Josef’s nearness tingled. Zach bit back a moan. He wouldn’t give Josef the satisfaction, and neither would he adjust himself to ease the pressure. “Get out. I told you when I left, and I’ll tell you again now: I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”
He was too close, far closer than he wanted to be. Josef caught his wrist, his pressure light and gentle. “You don’t mean that. I know you, Zach. You never did.”
Zach stared at the joining of their flesh, trapped and unable to move. Unwilling. Caught as easily as that.
Josef stood without letting go. “I’ll ask you one more time.” He reached with his free hand to stroke Zach’s cheek with the backs of his knuckles. Zach’s eyes shut; he followed the caress and even leaned into it. Hating himself but unable to resist the promise of one more hit off the drug he craved.
Once, for old times’ sake. Just once, and he could cut the ties again after they were done.
“Come with me,” Josef said quietly and firmly. “Or follow me, if you like. Or lead the way.”
Neither Zach’s lips nor his tongue wanted to cooperate with him. “Where do you want to go?”
Josef’s gaze darkened. “I’ll show you.”
Chapter Two
Zach waited for the door of I Heart That City to close behind Josef before he moved. One of the other tap jockeys could take over. God knew he’d covered for them before and never asked anyone to return the favor. He brushed past Hallie on his way out, knowing she’d wanted to stop him, and maybe she was right to try, but he couldn’t slow down or he’d change his mind.
He’d told Josef “outside,” but at the last possible second he deviated from his path and made a sharp left into the men’s room and shut the door behind him with an unsteady shove. Meaning to wash his hands, sticky from pineapple juice and cream, and eager to splash some water on his face to cool its heat, he made for the sink.
Once there, he found himself grinding his fists on the coolly pristine porcelain and pressing his forehead to the silver of the mirror. His breath fogged the glass and blurred his reflection. He took one deep breath and then another, wrestling with himself.
He wanted to go to Josef. God, did he want to. But he’d already come this far. Locked himself in. If he wanted, he could stay at least long enough for Josef to figure he’d been played. Maybe he’d go and things would get back to normal.
Maybe it’d happen.
“I thought you’d be here,” Josef said behind him. He crossed the room to stand behind Zach, in the niche between stalls and wall.
Maybe it wouldn’t.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Zach said stiffly and unnecessarily, his muscles locking tight.
“No. You were lost inside your head. Lost as you seemed the night we met. I wonder why you stopped your running here, if this emptiness is what you found.” Josef drew closer with each word, until by the last one Zach could feel the heat radiating from his body even through the finely woven cut of his suit. His own neat black T-shirt already clung to the skin beneath. A drop of perspiration rolled down the back of his neck, caught by Josef’s tongue. “I missed you.”
Zach bit back a cry and shuddered with the effort not to push back -- or away from -- Josef. Or to drop to his knees.
“Why are you so angry? What did I do, to make you go? I need to know.” He skated the warmth of his hand down Zach’s spine. “Stop fighting.”
“Go to hell.”
“You told me that before. Often, in older times. I loved -- love -- your fire. And no. Hell wouldn’t have me if I knocked on the gates and said please.” Josef’s quiet laughter tingled on the back of Zach’s neck as he tucked his chin over Zach’s shoulder.
“At least go away.”
“Is that really what you want? I’m not so sure.” He skimmed his palm around Zach’s waist and laid it over his groin, no more than a ghost of a touch, but enough. “Tell me again, now, that you want me to go.”
Zach ground his teeth to keep silent. The nearness of Josef’s hand drove him crazy. He remembered the firmness of his grip and the way he’d tease for hours, pushing him almost too far and reeling him back in, over and over until he begged to come. Josef could do that now, if he wanted, and Zach knew he wouldn’t stop him.
“Please…”
“Let me take care of you.” Josef pressed his mouth to the smooth skin over the pulse in Zach’s throat and drew hard, hollowing his cheeks. The prickling sting of capillaries breaking told Zach that Josef had marked him for everyone to see, and God help him, he couldn’t think straight for wanting more.
“It’s crazy, what you do to me.” He hissed, pushing into Josef. “I don’t have a clue who I am when I’m with you.”
“You knew who you were, once upon a time. You were mine.”
“Oh God,” Zach moaned, trying to catch Josef’s head and push him back. Josef’s hair, curling from the warmth of his exertion, caught on his fingertips; Josef himself held back, allowing him only one more brush of his lips over the rising welt. Nowhere near enough, and he knew it.
“I want you to tell me a truth.” Josef riffled the light trail of hair leading from beneath Zach’s navel to disappear beneath his belt.
Zach panted, light-headed. The churning of his heartbeat in his ears made it hard to think, but he could feel every breath of Josef’s scorching his skin. Every brush of flesh against flesh pushed him one inch closer to “too much.” That hadn’t changed. Nothing had changed.
“Zach,” Josef prompted, teasing him with light nips at the nape of his neck to keep him focused, and to divide him too, between what he wanted and what he felt. Clever bastard. He flicked open the buckle of Zach’s belt, a piece of tin faux-Texas junk, and popped the top button. Teased an inch lower.
Zach grunted, the heightened arousal hitting him as hard as a boot to the stomach. “I don’t… What…?”
“I asked you to tell me a truth.” Josef flicked open the next button.
When Zach licked his lips, he tasted the salt of his skin. “A truth about what? ‘The’ truth?” he asked, not understanding and frustrated. “I don’t understand. I can’t think enough to answer right.”
Josef wrapped his hand loosely, too loosely, around Zach’s straining erec
tion. “That’s why I’m asking you now.”
Zach whined, high and desperate. He broke, thrusting forward in search of friction Josef refused to give. He burned with shame, yet needed more. The tip of one finger teased his cockhead, rubbing in the drops of precum he’d already leaked. Zach’s hips lurched, trying to chase the pressure. “God, Josef, please!”
“If you tell me a truth. The truth. Whichever you like,” Josef murmured. Zach could feel the curve of the man’s smile against the bruised spot on his neck. “I remember that you once knew how.”
“I’m not bowing to you. Screw you and your orders.”
“I didn’t ask for you to bow.” Josef caught Zach abruptly by the hair, pulling his head back so hard that his throat arched. “I only asked for you to be honest.” He stroked Zach slowly from balls to slick head, twisting on the downstroke.
“I don’t…know…what you’re talking about --” Zach was nearly mindless, humping the elusive pressure of Josef’s grasp, now here, now there, there and gone, nothing like a rhythm he could follow, all of it breaking him down. This time, when he bit his lip, he tasted the iron sharpness of blood where he’d broken the skin.
“No,” Josef said, ceasing his movements. “You don’t. And no one else out there does either. Do they? They don’t know you. The truth in here.” He touched his tongue to Zach’s temple and exhaled slowly. “They have no idea who you really are, do they? Not even the pretty brunette who watches you as if you’re dangerous.”
“That’s the truth you want?” Zach slammed his hands against the wall, bracketing the mirror to support his weight. His cock slid slickly through the tunnel of Josef’s hand. “Harder. Please.”
The iron certainty of Josef’s own sexual hunger pressed against Zach’s ass, its heat and hardness unmistakable for anything else. Yet he held as still as if he were made of stone.
Zach broke. “No one knows me,” he said, his toes curling in his shoes as the pressure tightened and sped. “No one knows who I am, who I was. I don’t want them to.”
“Why? Tell me that too.”
“Because I want to be my own man!” Zach shoved his fist in his mouth barely in time to bite down and muffle his growl when he came, sticky spunk dripping down the inside of his jeans and Josef’s fingers.
Except for fine tremors running beneath his skin, Josef didn’t move. Reflected in the mirror, the blueness of his eyes showed…sorrow? Grief? Zach’s world jolted sideways. Josef never let anyone see inside his thoughts.
“Zach,” Josef said, stroking his hair slowly, as if far away inside his head. “You should know better. I thought you did, once. Dominating you had nothing to do with sublimating you.”
Zach couldn’t stand to look any longer at the reflection of Josef’s dark thoughts in his blue eyes.
“I wonder how else you’ve changed,” Josef said, choosing his words slowly. “Or if it’s I who did the changing.”
“I don’t understand --” Zach started, shaking his head and trying to read Josef’s face.
“I begin to think that neither do I,” Josef said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I think now I’ve done this wrong. Put yourself back together.”
“You’re going?” Zach asked, dazed. He rubbed the bite on his neck.
“For now.” Josef smoothed down a wrinkle in his jacket. He frowned, lost in thought. Did his hand shake? Only for a second? “I need to think. But we’ll meet again, Zach. Soon.”
“I’ll be at this address.” Josef tucked an ivory-colored business card into Zach’s hip pocket, pulling his lover’s sweater down over it. The casual length covered his groin. “Don’t come tonight. I need time to think.”
“But you --”
“I said no.” Josef shook his head, settling his feathers. “I need to be alone now.”
He strode out of the men’s room, moving swift and silent and determined, leaving Zach gaping after him. Of all the nerve…
Chapter Three
Making his way back to the bar, Zach knew he was flushed and looked every bit as fucked out as he feared. If no one had gone complaining to management about why the men’s room had stayed locked for almost fifteen minutes, he’d be surprised. Thank God the music was too loud tonight for anyone who hadn’t had their ear pressed to the door to know what he’d been up to.
He and Josef.
Zach shimmied uneasily, the fit of his sweater and the hang of his jeans over his hips still seeming too disheveled, and there was no hiding the love bite on his neck. Maybe no one had heard, but they’d sure be able to figure it out with a look at that. He prodded gingerly at the sore spot. Ten would get you twenty it’d be a dark plum bruise by morning.
And that wasn’t all. Though he knew the hem concealed any stains, he was sticky with spilled cum and felt the tug of it drying on his skin and pubes with every move he made.
Zach stroked the base of his neck, thumbing over a spot he knew didn’t carry any scars, but he remembered a chafing sting and --
“Five more minutes and I would have gotten the bouncer to break down the door.”
Zach blinked. He’d been too distracted to see her, but Hallie stood in front of him, barring his path. Her hands were planted on her hips and she looked as pissed as a wet cat. No trouble reading her emotions. Angry at herself for caring, mad at him for being stupid enough to take off with a guy who tripped her early warning system, and underneath it all, a mix of scared and relieved.
“That would have been a bad idea,” he told her, wondering how little of the truth he could get away with. “Besides, I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Hollows appeared in her cheeks, sharpening the bones of her face, when she pursed her lips and stared at him in disapproval. Hallie was too insightful for her own good, but she had nothing on Josef.
“I said I’m fine.” Under normal circumstances Zach would never have touched a lady with anything except respect. Now, he didn’t think he could stand even a lesser inquisition, so he took her by the thin shoulders and set her carefully to the side.
“Hey!” she shouted, mortally offended. “Fine. Last time I do you a favor, buddy.”
“No one asked you to.”
“Screw you.” She’d been carrying a bar towel draped over one shoulder; now, she whipped it off and flicked it at him. Wet, it hit his chest with a soggy thwap. “We’re closing down, space case.”
“Already?” Zach tried to see the clock over the bar. “Wait, what? Why?”
“Because it’s closing time. Where is your head at tonight…Mars? Don’t answer that. Thanks to me wasting my time worrying about you, it’s last call and I’m out at least twenty dollars in tips. Why am I still talking to you?” Hallie pushed past him. Though slight, when she bumped him the impact made Zach stagger.
Zach glanced at the bar and saw that she’d been telling the truth. While the music thumped on, wailing guitars and heavy beat and all, the last of the hard-bitten drinkers were even then being escorted out. A trail of good-time girls -- and guys -- followed, laughing, buzzed on cocktails and the in-jokes they chattered at one another. The rest of the bartending staff had scattered who knew where, leaving him most of the cleanup work. He guessed he deserved that after pulling his disappearing act.
Fine. It’d give him time to think. To not succumb to the urge to sneak out with the customers and go to the address printed on the card burning a hole in his pocket. Instead, he got busy with cloths and cleaning supplies.
But though his hands were active, the work was such second nature to him that no matter how he tried to prevent it, his mind wandered…
One Year Before
“You’ll be home early tonight?” Zach smoothed down the sharply cut lapels on Josef’s formal dinner jacket, checking with a critical eye to make sure there were no loose threads or flecks of lint.
Josef caught his hands and pressed a kiss to the back of each. “As early as I can be. Will you wait for me?”
Zach pressed closer, breathing in the rich spiciness of Josef’s c
ologne. The fragrance would always make him think of dominant and safe and home. “How would you like me to wait?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement, though he lowered his head as humbly as a slave.
“However you choose, as long as you’re here. And you will be here.” Josef didn’t ask. Zach knew it was a command.
“Yes, sir.”
“You do me proud. You always have.” Josef stroked the back of Zach’s neck, tracing the links of the casual collar Zach was still getting used to. “This looks good on you.”
“Yes, sir.” To be honest, Zach wasn’t sure he liked his collar -- the weight was uncomfortable, the metal chafed the skin beneath, and it was a constant presence he couldn’t ignore. At least he could take it off anytime he wanted, unless Josef said otherwise, and to please his Josef…
Josef kissed him on the forehead on his way out. “A statement of intent,” he said, and was gone.
To keep himself occupied in the absence of companionship and conversation, Zach worked on clearing away minor clutter. He could care less that he hadn’t been invited to the social gathering separating he and his master for the night. Josef hated those parties, so Zach was sure he wouldn’t have had fun, and besides he was more used to seeing the hoi polloi from the other side of the bar.
When the cell phone on the end table vibrated, Zach picked it up without thinking. “Collins residence.”
“Zach,” someone shouted over the background racket that he recognized as a busy bar. Their accent was Jersey by way of Seattle, thick and spoken through the nose.
“Ernie.” His boss of the moment. “What’s up?”
“You wanna make some extra cash? Minnie quit. Said if someone else asked her for another Long, Slow Screw she was gonna dump a drink in their lap, and then she did. Need an extra bartender. Fuckin’ crazy in here tonight.”