Saul turned his head in the direction of Chief O’Brien’s voice.
Shit.
He didn’t want his friend and fellow Hampton Road member to be compromised and there wasn’t any way for him to explain everything fully. It was too risky at the station. However, he could only imagine his reaction when he blurted out his confession regarding Hampton Road.
“Ah, yes. I’m afraid I’m here under more dire circumstances, Morty.”
“Oh? Then by all means, I’ll take over, Johnson.”
“Sure, chief. He’s got either a murder or a maybe murder. He’s not sure.”
I can’t go with him. Once he hears my plan, he’ll try and talk me out of it.
In desperation, Saul forged ahead. “You need to go pick up Preston Cornwall immediately. I have all of the information on where you can find him. You see, I own a club where Preston—”
The chief’s eyes went wide and the desk officer cut him off.
“Preston Cornwall? I think that’s the stiff that just got called in.”
Saul snapped his jaw shut and the chief whipped his head over to gape at the officer as he was flipping through some papers.
“Yeah. Here it is. Not twenty minutes ago. We got word from one of the call boxes near Hancock Park that there was a stiff covered in blood in a blue sedan. Looks like it crashed into a tree or something. Smith’ll be in soon. He’ll have more details, I guess.” The officer looked at Saul. “So I guess it was a murder after all. How does someone kill a fella by making him crash into a tree?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t get it.”
Saul gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself. He needed answers. A gin and a cigar didn’t seem like such a bad idea either.
* * * *
He couldn’t take his eyes off his boy. His complexion was still very pale, but he would live. There had been very little damage, only a nick in his liver which the surgery had repaired. He would primarily need rest to allow his body to recover from the trauma it had endured. One of the hospital administrators was a member of Hampton Road and had made special arrangements for Kenneth to have a room in a private area of the hospital. Saul was able to be with his boy for at least a short while here and there that way.
Saul held Kenneth’s hand sandwiched between both of his and forced his thoughts away from all that could’ve gone wrong and directed them instead on all that had gone right. Aaron had been frantic with worry after Saul had charged out of the hospital and had immediately called Chief O’Brien. As soon as Morty O’Brien had heard Aaron’s story, he’d assured him that he would head Saul off at the station. Then Aaron had contacted Thomas, who’d gone to Hampton Road and prevented Javier from carrying out most of Saul’s instructions, with the exception of taking out Preston’s file. They’d held onto that, just in case. O’Brien would’ve alerted them if things had gotten out of hand and they’d had to vacate after all.
The one thing none of them could’ve anticipated was Preston’s suicide. In the few moments Kenneth had been awake since his surgery, he’d told Saul and Chief O’Brien what Preston had said to him after he’d stabbed him. Given what was discovered with Preston’s body, it all made sense in a twisted, sickening way.
It was hard to say exactly when Preston had slit his wrists, but he’d used the blood to write a macabre suicide note which he’d left behind. It had simply said, ‘I’ll be with you soon, my beloved’ and had been covered in awkward bloody hearts. Both Saul and Chief O’Brien had declined to share that with Kenneth. He couldn’t see what possible good it would do for him to know.
“M-master?”
More than once, Kenneth’s morphine-laced remarks had almost caused them some trouble.
“Ssh, don’t talk. I’m right here, dearest.” He kept his voice low and calm. “They won’t let me stay with you, but I’ll be back again first thing. He’s gone.” Saul didn’t want to say Preston’s name and upset Kenneth at all. “Remember? He’s dead and can’t ever touch you again.”
Kenneth licked his dry lips and Saul reached over to get the glass of water the nurse had left on the bed stand table. He placed his hand behind Kenneth’s head and lifted him in the slightest. Kenneth winced and it was like Saul had been punched. It was as if he felt all of Kenneth’s pain in his own body. He placed the edge of the glass to Kenneth’s lips then tilted gently until Kenneth had swallowed a few times.
“Good?”
“Yes, Master.”
Saul eased him back on the pillow then set the water down. He leaned in next to Kenneth’s ear.
“I love you more than my own life, but you can’t call me Master while you’re here around these people. Do you understand, Kenneth?”
His bottom lip quivered and Saul clenched his jaw in worry that he might do damage to himself if he became too upset.
“I wish I had you to myself back at the house, but we can’t have that right now. You’re still my boy, no matter what, and I’m still your Master. I always will be.”
He racked his brain for something that could appease Kenneth. The trauma and the drug they had him on were causing havoc on his boy’s emotions.
“Call me Sir, just for now. Can you do that for me, boy?”
Kenneth seemed to relax at Saul’s words.
“Yes, Sir. I can.”
“Good boy.” Saul stroked his hair back from his forehead.
“Sir?”
“Ssh. Remember, you need your rest.”
“Please, Sir, I need to tell you.”
“Then you’ll sleep for me?”
“Yes, Sir. I will.”
“Then what is it, dearest?”
“Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”
Saul was startled by Kenneth’s remark. “How did you know…?”
“I heard you. Before, before… I don’t know when. I thought I was dreaming maybe. But I heard you, and forgive me, Sir, but you’re wrong.”
“We’ll talk about this later. You need your rest.”
“I want you to know that I disagree with you, Sir. Preston was insane. No one can know what a crazy person will do.”
Saul kissed Kenneth’s temple. “Thank you, boy. But I’ll never stop protecting and caring for you.”
“Good. Because I’ll never stop serving and caring for you.” Kenneth had the faintest of smiles on his face.
Saul ignored the increasingly familiar sting of tears at the back of his eyes. “Now go to sleep, boy.”
“Yes, Sir. Whatever you want.”
Epilogue
In the six months since Preston had attacked him, Kenneth had been through a wide range of emotions that he hadn’t been prepared for. There had been exhilaration over the fact that he was finally, completely free of Preston’s threats. Then there was the guilt over his happiness that Preston had killed himself. He’d also combated episodes of fear that had made him think he might be going crazy like Preston.
He would get nervous and panicked over the oddest things. He couldn’t work alone in the yard anymore, no matter how many times he told himself it was silly to feel that way. Whenever he tried to make himself do it, his nerves would increase until his fear seemed to be strangling him and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The taste of lemons or lemonade made him sick to his stomach. Even the smell of the blossoms had bothered him throughout the heat of the summer to the point where Saul had removed the tree. He’d felt guilt over that too, but Saul’s never-ending love and understanding had kept him going as he’d healed.
Their lovemaking had been gentler during his recovery process as well, not only due to his physical wound, but Saul had seemed to crave that too. He would stroke and caress Kenneth’s body with a reverence that made him shiver from the thrill of it. Saul would use his mouth on him everywhere, drawing it out then bringing him to climax over and over. He’d refused to fuck Kenneth for almost three months until Kenneth had practically demanded it. Even then, he’d insisted that Kenneth control it by riding him, so as to set the pace that he could
handle. As it turned out, that had helped Kenneth prove he could handle a lot.
Once Saul had seemed to get past whatever personal demons he’d been dealing with in regards to Kenneth’s attack, they’d been able to find their way back to the familiar and comforting dynamic of Master and submissive that made them so perfect together. And Kenneth had finally been allowed to have his pain again.
While he waited for Saul in their favorite room at Hampton Road, he fingered and lubricated himself so that his ass would be ready for Saul at the end of his beating. He felt everything again. He no longer hid. Despite those few odd fears that lingered from his association with Preston, the knowledge that his abuser hadn’t won had filled him with a renewed confidence in his desires. He refused to allow Preston to steal his pleasure the way Saul had begun to teach him many months before. That pleasure belonged to him, so therefore it belonged to his Master.
He finished stretching himself then wiped his hands clean. Once he made sure that everything was in place the way that his Master had instructed, he dropped to his knees to wait. Although Saul never left him alone for long, he would’ve waited for forever to receive the gift of his Master’s pain. Saul knew his body so well and once Kenneth had stopped hiding from all he loved, their shared enjoyment of one another had only increased.
“There’s my good boy.”
Heat flushed through his body at the sound of his Master’s voice. The slight tinge of rose to his skin along with his swelling cock would tell his lover how ready he was for him. Saul stood in front of him, and as he always did, he bent forward at the waist and kissed the tip of each of Saul’s shoes. As he sat back on his heels, Saul lifted his chin in order to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
Once Saul straightened he patted his head. “Did you ready that sweet hole for me?”
“Yes, Master.”
“On your knees then. Spread your thighs for me.”
Kenneth rose up from his heels and did as Saul had instructed. He allowed a lusty moan to fall from his lips at the intrusion of Saul’s finger in his passage. Part of staying connected with Saul during their interactions was for him not to withhold anything—no sounds, no movements. Unless Saul had him restrained or had a specific command, he was free to yell, moan, talk and wriggle all he wanted.
After Saul had stroked him internally for a moment, he withdrew his finger then wiped it with a nearby cloth. “Nicely done, boy. I look forward to that wrapped around my cock.”
Saul unbuttoned his woolen trousers just enough so that he could reveal his leaking erection. He presented it to Kenneth, who greedily sucked it in, working it with his tongue as he inhaled the heady musk that was his lover. The way Saul smelled made his mouth water, his taste better than anything Kenneth could think of. Saul always had to stop him from going too far if he wanted to claim Kenneth’s ass. Otherwise, Kenneth would suck him dry every time Saul’s velvety steel filled his mouth.
Saul yanked his head back by a fistful of his hair. “Look at me, boy.”
Saul gazed down on him with a combination of lust, love and mastery. It was perfect. Saul was perfect.
“On your back on the bed, ass to the edge.”
“Yes, Master.”
He positioned himself, the nervous thrill that always coursed through him before Saul took control of his body filling him with anticipation. Saul cuffed his wrists together above his head with the leather bands he favored, then attached them to a chain anchored at the iron-framed headboard. Saul took one of Kenneth’s legs and pulled it all the way back to attach it with a cuff to the top of the bed as well. He repeated the same move with his other leg until Kenneth was completely restrained, as well as wide open and vulnerable to any of Saul’s demands on his body.
Saul dipped a finger in his channel again. It was so decadent, so good. Kenneth wanted to encourage Saul deeper, wanted to fuck himself on the digit, but he was too imprisoned by the cuffs.
“Surrender your body to me, boy. Take what I give you.”
He stilled and allowed Saul to have complete control over him. Over and over, that one long, thin finger invaded his passage. It taunted him with the promise of more, but never offered it to him. His dick twitched and bobbed, anxious for more friction or pressure or anything.
Saul removed his finger and Kenneth groaned at the loss. He anticipated Saul replacing it with his hardened shaft, but instead Saul walked away. His lover never, ever left him when he was tied. All the more so because of how Preston would leave him alone like that for hours.
When Saul was back in his field of vision, he held a riding crop in his hand. His butthole clenched. He wanted it so bad and he was in the perfect position for it.
Please…
Saul brought it over and presented it to him. He kissed the handle then the tongue at the end of the whip.
“Good boy.”
Saul stood between his wide open legs and looked down on his exposed areas. He brought his eyes back up to meet Kenneth’s.
“Stunning. Are you with me?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You and I together?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Then don’t count. Feel.”
The harsh slap of the leather against his sensitive hole sent a jolt of pain to the end of his dick. It was beautiful and he loved Saul even more for it. The next one was harsher, even more wonderful. The third one left his pucker raw and filled his eyes with water. It was then that he realized he’d been yelling very loud.
Saul trailed the tongue of the crop along the underside of his thighs, a terrible tease, too sweet and gentle. It made him ache for the sting that much more. The quick snap on his sac made him howl but to his ears, it was akin to a cheer. A flick on the other side caught one of his nuts at an angle that caused the tears to spill down his cheeks.
His cock strained, angled up until the tip touched his belly, smearing his skin with the copious moisture that leaked from his slit. The final smack hit his exposed glans and he sobbed as hot sparks seemed to consume his core, his pucker clenched so tight he thought it might never open again.
Saul plunged into him and his body gladly accepted his Master’s thick, heated shaft. Kenneth took all that Saul gave, noticed every bit of what they shared. The scrape of the bristled curls each time Saul slammed into him. Saul’s hips connecting with the backs of his thighs. His lover’s distinctive flavor when he plundered Kenneth’s mouth. The ache in his joints from each thrust of Saul’s vigorous fucking.
“You and I together?”
Their gazes locked.
“Always, Master.”
He was there—with Saul—and he felt everything.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Gin and Jazz: Hollywood Bound
Morticia Knight
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Nick. Give me five cents. I need a cuppa joe before we head to the theatre.”
“Who am I? Rockefella?”
Jack smiled and elbowed Nick in the ribs. They were at the far end of the counter on the swivelling stools Jack loved so much. Every time they had a few extra cents in their pockets—which wasn’t often—they would head on over to Huyler’s Diner in midtown. It was close enough to the vaudeville theatre where they worked, just off Broadway.
“Would ya quit spinnin’ around on those things? You’re acting like a kid.”
Jack frowned at him. Nick was four or five years older than Jack, but he acted like he was really something. All worldly and such. At the same time, Jack really admired him. He knew about things and always watched out for him. Nick had been there for him after he’d been kicked out of the boys’ orphanage in Buffalo. He’d only been sixteen and hadn’t known what to do or how to take care of himself. Nick was the best friend he’d ever had. And since he had no family, he guessed Nick qualified as that too.
“I ain’t no kid. I just turned nineteen. I’m a man.”
Nick snorted and took another drag of his cigarette. “A
man. Sure ya are, kid. Here’s a nickel, get yourself some coffee. It’ll be a late night. We have to tear down all of the sets, and put up the new ones. The next show starts tomorrow.”
“Aw, shucks. I was hopin’ we could go out tonight to the Red Head. I know someone who’ll let us in. Plus, Mr Pearson swore he’d pay what he owes us from the last show.”
“Shee-it. The last time we went to a speakeasy, the place got busted. You wanna end up in the black mariah again? We’re supposed to be savin’ every penny to make it out west. I know it’s hard when everyone else seems to be living the easy life, but we have a chance to make it really big out where they make movin’ pictures—just like we’ve been dreamin’ about.”
“Geez, Nick, I don’t know. I still think we got a good enough job here. We make all right money. And I don’t know nobody out there.”
“You’ll know me, won’t you?”
“Yeah, but what about that gal you’ve got back in Philly? What if you decide to marry her and leave me behind?” Jack’s voice got softer. “You always said you’d have to do that someday.”
Nick didn’t answer. He looked straight ahead at the mirror behind the diner’s counter, worry etched on his brow, a cigarette held to his lips. Finally, he seemed to snap out of it.
“Yeah, well, I don’t wanna talk about it. I’ve put her and my folks off this long. They can all wait a little bit longer.”
Jack motioned to the waitress and asked for some coffee. He didn’t want to bug Nick about it, but it bothered him a lot. One time Nick had said that he would send for her when they got out west, but then he’d never brought it up again. Jack worried that once Penelope got in the picture, Jack would be out of it.
But it’s only right, ain’t it? Every guy has to get his own family one day. We can still be friends.
If only friendship was all that Jack wanted from Nick. He had been in love with him for a while, but didn’t dare say or do anything about it. That was the kind of stuff that had got him pushed out the doors of the orphanage. If it hadn’t been for Father O’Malley intervening, he might have been beaten to death by the other kids. He’d been half-beaten as it was.
The Rules of Love Page 16