by Treva Harte
They were going to die fucking.
He rested his weight on his elbows, the way she had not so long ago, and thrust even harder. She gasped as his lips tightened against his teeth, sweat dripping down his face.
This man wasn’t sweet or submissive; he wasn’t the Cole she’d known so long. She wanted him anyhow. Hell, she wanted him more than a sweet or submissive Cole.
“I’m going to fuck your brains out.” He stared into her eyes and said each word distinctly.
She thought she laughed, if that hoarse sound out of her mouth was a laugh and not a whimper. “Go ahead.”
The rhythm changed, turned into nothing but short, hard strokes inside her. She arched, gritting her teeth. She wasn’t going to break before he did, she wasn’t, she wasn’t…
“Oh God, Cole.” She couldn’t talk, couldn’t—
She came. Came with a white-hot blast that released her from the twisting desire that had ratcheted her so tight. Came as she felt Cole burst inside her, filled with his own release.
* * * *
She opened her eyes when Cole sat up in bed but hastily shut them again. What now?
Cole brushed a kiss against one of her eyebrows. “Thank you.”
Was that a “damn glad we did this” thank-you or a “get me the hell out of here without a scene” thank-you? Sarah didn’t like to think she was a coward…especially an obvious coward, but she kept her eyes shut. She wasn’t sure what to say. Someone didn’t just go from being gay to wanting her in twenty-four hours. Whatever Cole was going to tell her next, it probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She could handle that eventually, but not yet. Please. Not while she still had the smell and feel of him all around her.
“Sarah, are you weirding out on me? Does having sex mean you won’t talk to me afterward? I’m not up on female bed manners.”
“No!” She opened her eyes.
“That’s good.” Cole crossed his legs Indian-style on the bed, still naked, and yawned. His blond hair stuck up in sweaty spikes. “Because, you know, you’ve worn me out, and I can’t think. But I did figure we’re friends first, just like always. And maybe lovers? So we should be able to talk.”
That sounded slightly discouraging, but at least he hadn’t refused to say lovers. Sarah sat up too, carefully keeping the sheet around her. Cole eyed her and smiled.
“Too late, sweetie. I got a peek at all your girl parts.” He leaned forward, close enough for his breath to puff lightly against her mouth. “It didn’t kill me.”
“That’s…good. Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t understand. I mean, Jeff said…and you said…” Sarah took a breath and tried again. “We’ve always been friends, and you’ve always been gay. So. Why?”
“Apparently for some people—well, so far for one person in particular, I’m bi. Learn something new about yourself all the time.” Cole sounded unconcerned, but he leaned back again, and she could tell he was studying her. “Is that a problem for you?”
“I’m…I’m…” Ecstatic. Confused. Scared. No, ecstatic definitely won out. “I’m so fucking happy.” Sarah leaned forward to get into his personal space this time. “We’re always going to be friends. This is icing on the buddy cake. More icing than I’d ever hoped for.”
There was a long silence.
Cole wasn’t talking. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
He cleared his throat. “I was hoping for…I was hoping for a little better than friends with benefits.”
Forget confused. She was moving to stunned. And thrilled. Was thrilled better than ecstatic? She was whatever was better than ecstatic, and she needed to stop the mind babble. This was…she’d never expected any of this.
“Oh, hell yes! But…”
“But what?” Cole brushed her hair from her face.
“But what about Jeff?” Why the hell was she thinking about that now? Except there was a Jeff, and he was important. Was this what Jeff had expected Cole to tell her for Christmas? Somehow she didn’t get that feeling from him. Jeff wasn’t a graceful loser.
“I want Jeff.” Cole’s eyes fired again. “Why would loving you change that? I’ve just opened up new possibilities, not shut down old ones.”
“Oh.” For some reason that qualification steadied her, despite the slap of sudden disappointment. Things weren’t perfect after all. But that was her Cole talking, the genius who didn’t quite get all the social nuances. Not that sex was exactly a social nuance. “I don’t think you’ve thought everything out.”
She might—might—be desperate enough to share Cole. Sundays with me, Mondays with… But she wasn’t interested in sharing with someone like Jeff. And she was sure Jeff didn’t want to share at all. Jeff had probably thought Cole would back off or be disappointed if she and Cole had sex.
Wrong again, Jeffie.
“No, baby. I have thought it out. Carefully. For a long, long time in graphic detail. Mmmm.” Cole kissed her mouth this time. It was hotter and more possessive than she’d expected. “What I think is that the two most important people in my life haven’t thought hard enough.”
Chapter Four
Jeff sat in the dusk of his office, the computer long since switched into power-saving mode, left alone with only the dull light of the monitor and his alcohol for company.
It seemed like hours. Cole and Sarah had been together for hours. In his house.
What else had he expected? Wrong question since he’d expected Cole to be with him by now. The right question was—what else should he have expected?
He’d been too confident. He’d forgotten what it was like to be as young as Cole. As hopeful as Cole.
He’d thought Cole would pick him.
“Jeff?” His boy leaned against the office doorway, washed and dressed and looking—he didn’t know how Cole looked in the darkness. Defiant? He could tell his boy didn’t have a submissive stance.
But then Cole wasn’t his boy.
Neither of them said anything. Finally Cole sighed and asked, “Are you angry with me?”
Angry? How could he be? He’d brought it on himself, hadn’t he? Pushed the kid. Thought he’d known Cole. Thought he’d known what the kid would ultimately choose.
Fuck yes, he was angry.
“What do you want from her, Cole?” Jeff switched on the light. He was going to see what he was up against.
“I don’t know what you mean.” But from the sulk on Cole’s face, it was clear he damn well did. Sulking aside, the kid didn’t look unhappy. The bastard.
“Who’s topping?” Jeff took a sip of the brandy to keep from demanding more. He had to remember he’d asked for all of this, and Cole had given it to him.
“M—None of your business.” Cole hadn’t given him that tone or attitude for weeks. Disrespect and sulking together? He’d established the acceptable behavior boundaries on their first night together, and Cole had stayed within them…until now.
Jeff decided to ignore the sulk and concentrate on something even more important. “I don’t know if she’s a sub, although she snaps to when I give her a command. But she doesn’t like it. She’s completely new to the scene. Hell, she probably doesn’t even know what a scene is. She’s trouble, Cole.”
“What if I want some trouble?”
Jeff had to smile, even though it hurt. “You always want trouble.”
Cole smiled back, but more serious words came out of his mouth. “What if I want something else? Something…something different.”
Jeff stopped smiling. It was too much effort anyhow. “What?”
“I don’t want Sarah to sub, exactly. Or to domme. At least I don’t think I do. I want…I want her. The way she wants to be. Do you know I haven’t ever had a relationship that didn’t include being topped? Never did something other people think of as normal?”
Those words ripped at him inside, almost like physical pain. Cole wanted what his master couldn’t give him.
“Normal? You want a man-woman thing?
Something simple—or at least something simpler than what you have now? Something people wouldn’t look at and pass judgment on?”
“I didn’t say that. I didn’t mean it that way. This is about Sarah. How I feel with her. It’s different.”
The kid was wrong. It was about him. About how he felt back when he was Cole’s age, and how he felt when he thought he could do something “simple.” It got complicated, really fast. “It’s just about Sarah? You don’t care what you have to do or how it works as long as you get to fuck her? I don’t think you can live like that, boy.”
Cole’s face stopped him. It wasn’t sulky and young anymore. It was tired. Adult. “You’re being the asshole Sarah said you were. Don’t.”
It ached to swallow his words, but he did it, just the way he had earlier. Because Cole was close enough to right. And because he was right too. No good came from trying to twist yourself into becoming something other than what you were. But no good came of trying to explain that to someone who didn’t want to know.
No matter what, he wasn’t going to become a bitter ex in front of Cole. Long before Cole arrived, he’d made the decision to accept what he was—a dom who wanted to stay that way, more than he wanted permanent ties—and that meant he let others come and go freely, the way he wanted it for himself.
Jeff took another swallow and let the brandy burn down his throat. He could shut up, but he wasn’t going to apologize. He wasn’t that big a person. And he wouldn’t have meant the apology anyhow.
“Jeff.”
He didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to say good-bye. Fuck. He reached for the bottle, refusing to look at Cole.
“Don’t withdraw on me, man. I’m not going to lose you. I can’t. I need you.”
“What?” That was so far from what Jeff had been bracing to hear that he wasn’t sure he had heard the words for a minute.
“I need you,” Cole repeated, softer now, sounding a little less certain.
“I thought you needed her. Sarah.”
“So?” Cole shrugged. “It’s not one or the other with me. I want both. I like being topped too. You know that. So of course I want both.”
Both.
“That might be a little much to ask Santa.” When does Cole ever know when something is too much?
The boy’s face lit into a Cole smile. “But it’s Christmas! And I’ve been very, very good this year.”
He moved even closer to Jeff, still smiling.
Jeff braced himself, but Cole didn’t try to slide into his lap. He leaned over instead and ran his tongue over Jeff’s ear. The little fucker knew what that did to him.
Jeff gripped Cole’s hand, the hand resting possessively on his shoulder. “Are you topping from below now?”
He’d never allowed that before, but if anyone could get away with it, it would be Cole.
“Nope. Wishing you a merry Christmas. I’m feeling good, and I want to thank you for bringing Sarah along on our trip. For…for letting her be here.”
Why the hell had he done it? He’d told Sarah it was because Cole wanted it. And God, clearly Cole did. But…
“I should thank you right now.” Cole licked his lips as he rubbed against his master’s cock. “Here. On the desk maybe.”
“No.”
He stopped and stared. “What? You mean I shouldn’t thank you? Or… What do you mean?”
“I don’t mind fucking you, but I think it’s time we stopped playing. I don’t compete for sex, and I don’t share. So I think it’s time for me to opt out.” That sounded as unyielding as he wanted it to be. He had rules and damn it, they were good ones.
“But…but…you brought Sarah here. You said…” For a moment Cole looked even younger than he was.
Jeff realized sometimes he said too much. Counted on too much. Had counted on Cole seeing things his way once Cole realized how impossible his dream was. But that didn’t seem to be the way things would be.
“Merry Christmas, kid.” Jeff turned to the drawer in his desk and fumbled inside. “Here. Take the keys to the cabin. Have a good holiday with her. It’s a good-bye present.”
He wasn’t a dreamer. He hadn’t been for years.
“Jeff!” Cole stared at the keys in his hand. “What the hell kind of game is this? You gave me permission to have her when you sent her into my room. My bedroom, for God’s sake.”
Cole had been staying with him, but Jeff had insisted on separate bedrooms no matter how much sex they had together. It was cleaner that way. Safer. No one got any ideas about moving in permanently. Except Cole apparently already had. While he dreamed about his Sarah, of course, and screwed his host. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work.
“My bedroom. It still is my fucking house.” The anger was good. It blasted away the ice that knotted Jeff’s stomach.
Cole’s bewilderment changed to anger. Good. He wanted the kid to be as furious as he was. “Your fucking bedroom. Right. I forgot. You don’t share anything. I’ll move out, then.”
“You still have your own place. Don’t act like I’m kicking you out into the snow.”
“Fuck off. You know I haven’t been back to my apartment in weeks. But I guess I know now why you insisted I keep on paying rent there. Asshole.”
Yeah. He was an asshole. It did the job.
He watched as Cole retreated step by step, still staring at him like Jeff had been the one who betrayed their relationship. The door shut.
Jeff eyed the brandy. It seemed too civilized a drink to take the bad taste out of his mouth. Besides, it was almost empty.
He wanted to get up and switch to something else. Drink himself completely numb. But it was too much effort. And if he left the room, he might see Cole packed and on his way out the door.
Cole.
Jeff refused to let the feelings get past the alcohol. They’d each made up their minds, hadn’t they? He wouldn’t have any feelings for the kid left in another week.
Damn it, Cole.
Why should he miss the kid? For all his outrage, the little fucker had taken the keys. He’d have his Christmas with her after all.
* * * *
Jeff had waited long enough. Cole had to have gone by now. Damn it, why was he cowering in this room anyhow? It was his house, and Cole had fucked up.
Jeff stood up, vaguely pleased he wasn’t immediately ready to fall down again after the drinks. Maybe the rage would also burn away the hangover he’d have tomorrow. Another thing to blame Cole for.
He opened the door and almost fell.
“What the hell—”
There, obviously just rudely awakened, was Cole, lying on the floor across the threshold of the door. Cole scrambled to his knees, eyes still heavy from sleep.
“Please,” Cole whispered.
Jeff couldn’t help it, even though he knew it was a bad idea. He put his hand on Cole’s lowered head.
“Please what, boy?”
“Please forgive me. I’m sorry.” Cole was the picture of kneeling submission—head down, shoulders slumped.
Jeff’s cock hardened even as his smarter head tried to protest. Cole knew what buttons to push. Damn him.
“What do you want?”
“Whatever you want, Sir.”
Played. He was being played. But Cole looked so right. Jeff was going to fall for it. He knew it. He wanted to. His boy—and just who owned whom right now?—knew it too. There wasn’t a trace of a smile on Cole’s face, and his tone and posture were completely humble, but Jeff knew what was going on inside.
At least his numbness was going away. Cole was here.
“Please discipline me, Sir.”
“Get up. You’ll show me how sorry you are.” He could do this. He felt fine—completely in control again. It was like he had never drunk anything.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Cole stumbled up from his knees, and Jeff dragged him back inside the study.
* * * *
Things were going from perfect to almost perfect, and then crashing
down to hideous way too quickly. Apparently she’d fallen asleep for a little bit, just like a guy did after sex. Sarah wasn’t sure how long she was out. Once she woke up, she’d waited. Paced. Taken a shower. Cole had promised to be back, but it’d been too long for a simple talk or even a long argument. Of course he’d gone to see Jeff. She knew that without Cole saying anything. Cole had seemed to think he could take care of things. She didn’t really expect he could.
But what she also hadn’t expected was Jeff would have him stay after Cole explained.
What the hell else could she do besides leave? Cole knew where she lived if he wanted to find her. She got dressed, knowing playtime was over, then took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door. No one was there. She stepped out into the hall and started down the stairs.
She froze when she heard voices. The study door was ajar. Oh, damn. She was going to leave. She wasn’t going to eavesdrop, she wasn’t going to…
“You lost track. Start again. Count of three, boy. Begin.” That was Jeff’s voice.
Then there was the solid thwack of something hard against human flesh followed by the sound of a moan. Sarah swallowed. Another smack. By the third, her nails were digging into her palms.
“Three.” Cole’s voice was husky, as if he was in pain—or horny.
“How many do you receive?”
Thwack.
“Twelve, Sir. But you’ve already landed a few—”
“Did I ask for conversation?”
Thwack.
“Shit!”
She winced at the next blow.
“Six…Sir.” The number hissed through Cole’s teeth.
“Is your ass on fire?”
Thwack. Thwack.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Did I tell you to speak? You could have nodded. I should start again for disobedience. Now listen. You can count out loud. Nothing else.”
Thwack.
“Fucking nine.”
“Fucking? You get fucked when I tell you, how I tell you, and you come when I let you. Is that clear?”
Thwack. Thwack. Furniture creaked. Cole didn’t say anything unless deep whimpering breaths counted.