by Sara York
Wesley brought him to his knees, leaving him incapable of thinking straight. The night before when Wesley had fucked his mouth, he’d wanted it, wanted to be told what to do, and to submit, allowing Wesley to direct the sex. He’d not done that since he was a teen. He loved power, loved being the dominant one in the relationship, but Wesley was different. Then he’d woken to the nightmare, panic racing through him, leaving him feeling totally out of control. He’d wanted to cry at first with fear, then relief.
Scotty clenched his fist, vowing to be stronger. He would play tonight. It would be easy for him to find some willing sub and make the guy bend to his will. With renewed determination, Scotty focused on work. He went through his list of tasks, completing many of them as he forced himself to keep his mind off Wesley.
After work, he headed home, prepared a salad, and heated up half a chicken breast, eating in silence as he planned out a scene in his mind. He wouldn’t allow Wesley to get under his skin. After dinner, he showered, then slid into tight black jeans and a black T-shirt. When he stared at himself in the mirror, he admired how he looked. So good and in control, he knew he wouldn’t have any issues landing a prime sub tonight.
The parking lot of Barringers was packed. Scotty prayed there were some quality subs inside and not just a bunch of mangy old Doms. The place usually had plenty of subs, and there were a lot of guys who wanted him, but the clientele had gone downhill lately. People who read one book and thought they understood the lifestyle had shown up, thinking they were Doms. The rise in awareness through popular media had brought forth a rash of subs too, most of them just playing a game, but a few of the guys stuck around, and he’d done a scene with a couple of them before.
Thoughts of Wesley standing before him, his cock dripping and hard, flashed through his mind. He pushed it away and focused on his need to control. That need was born out of the uncertainty he’d grown up in. If he thought too much about it, he’d get angry, and the last thing he needed tonight was anger.
Bill greeted him at the door, the smile on his face falling. “Where is that sweet little thing you had with you the other night? He was a tempting treat.”
“He’s not with me tonight.” The need to have Wesley at his side had almost died off until Bill mentioned him.
“You know, you get tired of him, I’ll take that sweet piece of ass. I wouldn’t mind getting him on the racks.”
Anger so hot it almost blinded him raced through his body. “He isn’t up for the taking.”
“So you own the sexy little thing?”
Bill’s interest pissed Scotty off so much he wanted to hurt the man. “Just keep your hands off him.”
“So why are you here without him if he isn’t a free agent?”
Scotty growled. “I’m doing a scene tonight. I’ll be upstairs in room three.”
Bill shot him a look, and Scotty knew without a doubt that the bastard would say something to Wesley the next time the man saw him. He regretted bringing Wesley here. This was hardcore. Barringers wasn’t the type of place for the faint of heart. He looked around the room, trying to see it through Wesley’s eyes. He cringed when one of the bigger Doms was cruel to his sub, forcing him to the ground to kiss some other guy’s boots.
He strolled upstairs and past one of the rooms with a scene going on. There were slaps and moans. One guy yelled out, his voice pinched with pain. God, what a fucking idiot he was letting Wesley experience this on their first date. But when he’d first thought of going out on a date with Wesley, he hadn’t cared about the man. Building something long term hadn’t mattered. An attachment was the last thing he wanted, and now he felt like he needed Wesley to just survive. His intentions for Wesley had changed at some point in the last forty-eight hours. He wanted a relationship, a real relationship, not just a few scenes with a cute young thing he could control. Fuck, he was screwed.
Scotty stared around the room, noticing how crazy the place was. When he’d first entered the lifestyle, Barringers had been different. The people cared about one another, then people like Aaron came in. Back then, Bill’s partner, Christopher was still around, making a difference in the community with his attitude. He treated everyone like they were special. Bill didn't have the same knack for caring. Now everything was different.
He lost his appetite for doing a scene. Barringers wasn’t where he wanted to be. He knew exactly where he wanted to be and who he wanted to be with, but his pride and fear kept him from leaving the club so quickly. Bill would spread rumors, telling others that he’d grown weak, and after last year, the rumors would stick. For some strange reason, he cared what these people thought.
Scotty made his way to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey, wondering why he cared at all. The bartender served him up two fingers and nodded to a sub that fit Scotty’s normal taste. The man was young, sexy, and submissive. He glanced quickly at Scotty, then away, a blush rising on his cheeks.
A week ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But now thoughts of Wesley popped into his head. Could he do a scene? The sub looked at him again. Scotty lifted one eyebrow and tilted his head, indicating the man could approach. He didn’t want to do a scene, he only wanted to speak to the guy, find out his story.
Every dominant button he had was pushed by this sub as he approached with his eyes downcast, never once looking Scotty in the face. He stopped about a foot away, his gaze on the ground at Scotty’s feet.
Emotions wound through Scotty, twisting his heart and wringing it hard. He ached to have Wesley here, but he didn’t want to be mastered by anyone—ever. Being in charge of his life was key, allowing Wesley to have that key would fuck him sideways. Scotty ground his teeth together, rebelling against the truth. Wesley had no power over him—and if he kept telling himself that, he might just believe it. He’d learned from years of abuse that letting anyone have power over him would ruin him. Being weak was a part of his past, and he didn’t need to go back.
Scotty placed his fingers under the sub’s chin, tilting his head up so he could look into the man’s eyes. This guy was taller than Wesley, his face nice, but nowhere near as beautiful as his man’s. When the sub’s gaze met Scotty’s, a look of triumph showed in his eyes, like the sub knew he’d won. All desire drained from Scotty. Wesley would never act like this—at least, he thought he wouldn’t, and that was the problem. He wanted to know Wesley, to have something special with the man, though just last week he was sure he never wanted another relationship again. Relationships were messy, always ending in hurt, and he’d been hurt enough for a lifetime.
“What’s your name?” Scotty asked.
“Kevin.” The sub’s voice was raspy, deep and did nothing for Scotty.
“You’re not collared by anyone?”
“No, sir.”
Scotty wanted to want this man. A connection with this guy would be sweet. He could see himself training this sub, teaching him everything he knew, maybe even being attracted enough to want to sleep with him, but with Wesley in the picture, Scotty could barely muster the interest to talk to the guy.
The sub was more than interested, the look of triumph in his gaze earlier had proven that, but Scotty didn’t want to be this man’s master. He knew he was sought after as a Dom. When he’d been with Raphael, they’d been one of those couples who everyone watched. They’d do a scene, and the room would go quiet. Subs were always approaching him, asking him to do a scene. Why would tonight be any different? Though he hadn’t seen this guy in here before, word would spread about the way Scotty operated.
“Kevin, as appealing as you are, I’m not here to do a scene tonight.”
A dark look flashed across Kevin’s face, and Scotty knew he’d disappointed the young man, but he wanted Wesley too much to blow his desire on this guy. Wesley had affected him more than he dared to admit. The beautiful art student had wedged his way under Scotty’s skin, leaving him feeling crazy and out of sorts.
Scotty the dominant would never allow any sub to have as much control over him a
s Wesley had. Even with Raphael, he played when he wanted, setting the schedule and the flow. He never felt any twinge of misgivings when he did a scene with another—it was his place to decide, not Raphael’s. Of course, Raphael had been important to him, but he’d kept his distance, making sure Raphael knew his place. In the end, he’d lost everything. Raphael had run out, leaving him without a man of his own.
Scotty drank the last of his whiskey and turned to leave. Aaron came up to the sub he’d just been talking to and seized him roughly, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall. Scotty saw fear on the sub’s face and reached out, grabbing Aaron by the scruff of his neck.
“Do you not have any manners?” Scotty growled.
“Fuck, Scotty. Let me go, you bastard.” Aaron struggled to get free, but Scotty was stronger.
After a moment, Scotty released him, stepping between the sub and Aaron. “Back off.”
“The sub is open for play, and if you can’t handle him, I can show him the ropes.”
Bill approached with his muscle. “What seems to be the problem? Scotty, are you claiming this man too?”
Again, he ground his teeth together. Overstepping his bounds wasn’t his way. The sub hadn’t worn white, indicating innocence, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like crap by Aaron. “No, Kevin is not mine, but he’s not Aaron’s to do with as he wishes. Shoving the guy up against the wall isn’t acceptable.”
Bill glanced at Kevin, then back at Aaron. “This is the third time this week I’ve had to say something to you, Aaron. In the rooms, when a sub agrees to a scene, there are no restrictions—well, other than the warnings on the wall, but here in the bar, unless a sub approaches you, it’s hands off. The only exception is if he’s been collared by you.”
Aaron’s eyes glazed over with anger, and he turned, storming out. Bill sighed and followed with his muscle. Scotty turned to Kevin, seeing real fear in the guy’s face. He pulled Kevin into a hug and held onto him. The man was shaking, and Scotty didn’t feel that he should leave him alone.
“Are you new here?” Scotty whispered against Kevin’s hair.
“Yeah, I just moved from Dallas.”
“Most guys aren’t such jerks. I’m sorry you had to experience that. Is your car in the lot?”
Kevin nodded. “Yeah.”
“Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
“Wait.”
Kevin snuggled in closer, his pelvis grazing against Scotty’s, shooting a stab of desire straight to Scotty’s cock. But the desire wasn’t for Kevin, only for Wesley. Unfortunately, Kevin noticed the growing bulge. He brushed against Scotty again, rocking his hips forward ever so slightly. The warmth of the body in his arms and the freshly washed scent of shampoo and clean man were doing a number on him. Kevin was an adult, older than Wesley, but younger than he. He loved the intimate contact between men, always had. Though he had feelings for Wesley, he wasn’t dead, and Kevin had done a number on him.
Scotty leaned away, staring down into Kevin’s upturned face. Kevin batted his eyelashes, his fingers slowly grazing over Scotty’s waist, teasing and tempting him. His cock grew harder, his body warmer. Kevin ducked his head, leaning his forehead against Scotty’s chest. He took Scotty’s hand and placed it on his ass. The man was small, like Wesley, his body tight with muscles. Scotty groaned as blinding heat raced through him. Doing a scene with this sub would be nice. That’s the reason he’d come tonight—right?
Scotty closed his eyes, imagining how sweet it would be to bend Kevin over and swing the whip, barely grazing his ass with the leather. Kevin must have sensed change in Scotty’s attitude. He dropped to his knees, his fingers on Scotty’s boot tips. He didn’t look up once, didn’t move a muscle, just knelt in front of Scotty, his head bowed and his ass touching his heels.
“Fuck,” Scotty whispered. Forty-eight hours ago, this was exactly what he wanted. Of course, that was before he really knew Wesley. Everything had changed. Lying in bed with Wesley last night, his limbs intertwined with the sweet young man, had made him see life differently. Of course, when the darkness had threatened to consume him, Wesley had been his anchor in the storm. That’s why he was there tonight. To prove he didn’t need Wesley and to prove that the darkness held no power. He was master of his life, and he would never submit to anyone ever again. But you do need him, whispered through his thoughts, leaving behind anger and pain. The flood of longing and desire for Wesley, not for this beautiful sub before him, took his breath away.
He was screwed. Walking away from Kevin would show weakness, but he couldn’t allow the sub to believe there would be anything between them. Most of the bar was watching him and Kevin, determining what type of Dom he really was. Raphael had taken more than just his love away, he’d opened the door for Scotty to be ridiculed and criticized. He hated that. His power was in question again.
If he could leave this club and find another, he would. But Savannah was small, and they were lucky to have even one club like this. How he reacted to Kevin would make a difference in how he was treated the next time he showed his face here. If he backed down and didn’t show his dominance right now, then Wesley might be in danger the next time he showed up with Scotty, or God forbid, without him. That was one rule he needed to put in place now—Wesley could never come here without him. Scotty shivered as fear for Wesley wove through him. The abuse a man like Aaron would put Wesley through would leave the young man scarred for life.
Scotty pulled Kevin up, tilting up his chin so they were looking at each other. “Grab my belt loop and follow me.”
He led Kevin into a private room, securing the door behind them. Kevin stood in the center of the room, his head down. The scruff of a boot sounded outside the door, and Scotty knew people were listening. The game he was forced to play at times drove him insane. Sometimes, he didn’t know why he bothered with his membership at Barringers anymore. In the beginning, it helped him to feel in control; now, it seemed like a farce. Tonight, with Kevin waiting for him to act, people on the other side of the door listening for him to get busy forcing this man to submit, and Wesley at home innocently tucked into his bed, left him wondering why the hell he was there.
Scotty stepped close to Kevin, his lips only inches from Kevin’s ear, his voice quiet. “How often do you sub?”
“I used to sub about once a week at home, sir.”
“In Dallas, did you have a regular Dom?”
“No, sir.”
“You need to find a good man to take care of you here.”
Kevin sucked in a breath, his gaze darting up to Scotty’s. He felt like shit. Kevin thought he wanted to be his Dom, but that was the furthest thing from his mind.
“Kevin, I’m not looking for a sub. Actually, I’m in a relationship and came out tonight to— I’m in a relationship. I just don’t want to leave you unprotected here.”
“Is it really that bad here, sir?”
“There are a few cruel men who would damage your skin and be happy about it.”
Kevin flinched, his breath sped up, and he leaned into Scotty. The warmth and comfort of Kevin’s body twisted through him, making him horny as hell. Kevin dropped to his knees again, this time his hand went to Scotty’s belt buckle.
“I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be anything you want. I don’t want a relationship, just a master. Do to me whatever you wish. Command of me whatever you wish. I’m yours to control.”
Scotty stared down at the man at his feet; his dick throbbed, his balls drew up tight against his body. “Kevin.”
“Yes, my master.”
“Would you allow me to take my fat cock and shove it up your ass, pounding you into the wall tonight?”
“Yes,” Kevin hissed.
Chapter Seven
Wesley groaned as he rolled over, trying to figure out what the hell woke him. He scrubbed at his face with one hand, glancing at the clock.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Crap, I’m coming.” His roommate was at a friend’s place, b
ut they had neighbors and it was after midnight. They didn't need a noise complaint. The manager was a jerk and didn't like college students. He scrambled out of bed, tripping over his clothes. On his way to the front door, he pulled on his underwear, smiling at the memory of Scotty telling him to wear underwear.
He cracked the door an inch, then was thrown back, almost knocking him on his ass. In his haste to get the banging to stop, he’d not turned on the light. A huge form was on him, pushing him to the wall. Fear raced through him, he bucked back, unable to dislodge the guy. The door slammed and he was trapped.
Wesley tried to scream, but his voice got caught in his throat. He whimpered, tears stinging the back of his eyes.
“Hold still,” Scotty growled.
Wesley blew out an explosive breath, his body shaking. “Fuck.”
The rip of a foil wrapper sounded by his head. His underwear was pulled off, and he jumped just as Scotty spread a glop of lube on his ass, working it into his tight pucker. Then he was impaled, pain shot through him, and Scotty stilled, allowing Wesley to adjust to the invasion. The pain lessened, and he relaxed.
“You’re mine,” Scotty stated as he shoved in farther.
“Ahh,” Wesley cried out.
“Mine. All mine.” Scotty pulled back, his dick almost leaving Wesley’s body before shoving back in. His lips were at Wesley’s ear, his voice ragged. “No one can touch you. Mine. You hear?”
Scotty pounded him hard, Wesley’s dick grazing against the wall. It was too much stimulation, and his balls were riding high. “Scotty.” He pushed back, yelping when Scotty slapped his ass.
“Stay still.” Scotty shoved forward again, his dick so far up Wesley’s ass he screamed.
“I can’t—I’m going.”
“Don’t come.”
“Scotty.” He threw back his head, moaning as Scotty banged into him.
“Don’t come.”
“Please,” he moaned.
Scotty stopped moving, his fingers on Wesley’s nipples, pinching hard. “You belong to me.”