Edge Jump

by Elizabeth Noble

  Twenty minutes later they were two floors up and on the other side of the hotel in a room very similar to Rylan’s. The hotel had supplied them with packing boxes and markers. Rylan started with the closet while Brett put together two of the boxes and marked one for Celia and one for Clive.

  As Rylan folded clothes and laid them carefully in each box, Brett began emptying the dresser. There were some dark, plastic bins on the closet shelf that Rylan pulled down, one in each hand. As he turned around to set the bins on the bed, he took a look inside and froze.

  “What?” Brett moved closer.

  “You probably shouldn’t…I’ll—Give me another of those packing boxes, please?”

  “What’d ya find in there, a head?” Brett chuckled and stretched to see the contents of the bin. He curled the fingers of one hand around the edge of the closest bin at the same time and pushing it down a bit. “Oh.” He gently took the bin from Rylan and set it on the bed. “It’s okay, that’s not a secret to me.” Pulling the postcard from his pocket, Brett sat on the edge of the bed and held it up so Rylan could see the photograph. “Do you know what the place in this picture is?”

  “Yes.” Rylan admitted. “I looked up the name, but I didn’t know…it’s not too far from here.”

  “It’s a BDSM club. I’d been there a few years back and told Celia about it because I thought she and Clive would like it,” Brett said. He picked up a short rubber handle with strips of what looked like leather attached. “Flogger,” Brett explained and set it next to his leg. He pulled out another object, a dildo, with his other hand and set it on the bed. Then he took a leather harness out and held it, resting his hand on his knee. “One of my personal favorites.” He held the harness in one hand and picked up the dildo with the other. “This harness fits around the hips, legs go here and this is held in place by the harness strap like this.” Brett moved the leather and dildo around to demonstrate. “I don’t know how it feels for a woman, but men get a real thrill from the dildo, or any type of butt plug being held against their prostate. Often men that like this also enjoy having one of these used on them.” The flogger was given a shake.

  “Did you ever go with them? Celia and Clive?”

  “Oh, God, no,” Brett said and laughed. “Once or twice we ran into each other by accident and I’d bolt from the place.”

  Rylan burst out laughing. “I guess that would be unsettling.”

  “Yeah, to say the least.” Brett stood up and stepped close to Rylan, putting one of his big, warm hands on Rylan’s shoulder. The heat from Brett’s body surrounded Rylan making his heart pound and breath catch in his throat. “If you’re curious about any of it, just ask me.” He slid his hand down to rest on Rylan’s chest just below his collarbone.

  Rylan licked his lips and swallowed hard. “I will. Do you like the dildo?”

  “I’d be the guy with the flogger,” Brett said.

  Rylan might have had another question or two, but it was suddenly impossible for him to formulate the words. Images of what he and Brett could—maybe would—do someday flooded Rylan’s head and cock.

  Brett patted his chest a few times before stepping away. “If you don’t mind I’d like to finish this up.”

  “Me too.”

  Rylan had a difficult time focusing on their task. His mind, and attention, kept circling back to Brett’s hand on his chest, the flogger and what the combination of the two might feel like.

  Chapter 3

  Rylan put his phone face down on the table. “Sorry. It seems my sabbatical is over, at least for now. That was Lars.” They’d found a small restaurant featuring Oriental cuisine and were enjoying a late lunch.

  “As in Sweeny, the owner of Celebration on Ice?” Brett asked.

  “He and his wife are the owners, yes. Lars, or both of them, decided to put together a tribute to Celia.” He looked up from the phone and at Brett. “Seems I’ll be skating with her one last time.”

  Brett put down his fork and stared at Rylan. “How—?”

  “The magic of film. They’re having some sort of composite made of her performances that’ll be projected on the arena screens and I’ll skate ‘with’ her.” Rylan made quote signs with both hands.

  “Wow,” Brett was obviously stunned. “That’s kind of amazing. How do you feel about it?”

  Rylan shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, I don’t have a choice. I do work for the show. I’m sure our fans will appreciate it.”

  “Do you do everything because total strangers will like it?”

  “As far as my performances go, yes, I think so. They’re the reason I go out and perform,” Rylan confessed. “That sounds bitter. I love what I do, but I loved doing it with my partner. Getting excited about this routine is like salt in an open wound. I’ve never skated solo.”

  “You’ll be brilliant and the whole thing will be beautiful,” Brett said softly. “I’m looking forward to watching.”

  “Tonight’s show starts soon. Do you want to go watch it?”

  Brett leaned back in his chair, watching Rylan. “What do you want to do?”

  “Whatever you want.” Rylan chuckled. “I’ve seen the show, lots of times.”

  “But not as a spectator I bet?” Brett pressed.

  “Well, no.”

  Brett smiled softly. “I’d love to see the show live. It won’t be as good or the same without you and Celia, of course, but I enjoy ice dancing and figure skating.”

  “We used to do at least part of one routine with actual figure skating movements, since we started out competing in figure skating, not ice dancing,” Rylan explained. Even though Brett had never, as far as Rylan knew, done either of those styles of skating he knew Brett was as familiar with them as Rylan and Celia.

  “Maybe you’ll give me a private performance soon.” Brett’s tone was suggestive of more than skating. The types of actions flitting through Rylan’s head was something one couldn’t possibly do on ice without risking injury.

  Rylan ducked his head and grinned. “I’d love that.”

  “I look forward to that as well,” Brett said.

  Brett’s dark eyes were warm and had a hungry quality to them that made heat rise in Rylan’s groin. It took every ounce of control Rylan possessed to not squirm constantly in his chair. He felt as if every minute spent near Brett caused his cock to slightly firm, especially since they’d talked in Celia’s room. If he spent much more time thinking of how Brett could control him—his big hands holding Rylan still and doing whatever he pleased—Rylan would certainly lose any pretext of decorum and do something embarrassing in the middle of this restaurant.

  Rylan jumped when Brett reached across the table and laid his hand over Rylan’s. “Hey, you okay? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” Brett’s eyes narrowed but his voice was teasing.

  “Huh? Uh…um…”

  “Working out in your head how that routine will go?” Brett squeezed Rylan’s hand very gently.

  Rylan wanted to say yes. In fact, he intended to say that exact word. Instead he shook his head. “No.” Clearly his mouth had other ideas.

  “Hmm. Well, whatever it is, it must be very interesting.” Brett withdrew his hand and picked up an egg roll covered in sauce, biting through it very slowly. When he was finished, he slowly licked his fingers—one at a time.

  Rylan’s brain was fogging over at an incredible rate. He opted for nodding instead of trying to talk and risking something outrageous and stupid flying out of his mouth.

  Brett sat back and studied Rylan, a slow smile forming. “I was saying, since we have all their belongings boxed up, I’ll get an address tomorrow and ship Clive’s to his family for them.”

  “Th-that’s really nice of you. Are you going to send—uh…the stuff we found?” Rylan couldn’t help how awkward he felt.

  Snorting, Brett said, “Oh hell no. If someone in his family wants that stuff they’ll have to ask. I wouldn’t compromise Clive’s privacy that way. When he recovers,
I’ll make sure he gets it back if he wants it.”

  “Is there a BDSM version of a second-hand store?”

  That made Brett laugh. “I never thought about it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, tomorrow I’ll drive you to the arena if you’d like, drop you there and run my errands. I should be able to meet up with you around lunch time, and if no one cares, I’ll stick around for the rest of practice.”

  “I’d like that a lot,” Rylan confessed in a quiet voice. “Where do you want to sit for tonight’s show? Up in one of private loges or down by the ice?”

  “I like being close to the action.”

  “Okay, then. Kathryn always has seats reserved for performers’ guests.” He pulled out his phone and began sending a text, then looked up at Brett again. “Do you think we should invite Clive’s family?”

  “I was wondering that myself.” Brett paused then continued slowly, “Maybe not just yet. They know how to contact you and me. When I call about where to ship his things tomorrow, I’ll try to feel them out. And I’ll let them know there’ll be a special tribute and one of us can contact them with the details when you get them. Your show is scheduled to be here until next week. I’m not sure if any of them know that, or how they felt about Celia. She never talked about Clive’s family, just Clive.”

  Rylan nodded and let out a deep breath. He didn’t want to share Brett with Clive’s family just yet. Their meal finished, they walked a leisurely pace back to Brett’s rented car. Rylan leaned against the driver’s door.

  “Want to drive again?” Brett asked. He settled his hands on each of Rylan’s shoulders.

  “No. But I was thinking.” Rylan reached out and took hold of the lapel on Brett’s leather coat, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. He inhaled deeply, loving the aroma of the fine, supple leather. “This jacket is perfect on you.”

  Brett’s thumbs caressed the denim covering Rylan’s shoulders. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about?”

  Rylan gave Brett a gentle shove and smiled when Brett laughed softly. “No. Not entirely. Maybe a tiny bit, but there was something else I was thinking about.”

  Brett stepped closer and said in a low, husky voice, “Tell me.”

  “Someone knew Celia and Clive went to that club and knew what hotel we were in.”

  “I don’t think knowing which hotel your group was staying in is such a big deal, but the club…” Brett’s voice trailed off as he nodded. He was close enough that Rylan felt Brett’s breath waft across his face. The scent of the jacket mingled with that of Brett’s body, it was intoxicating. Rylan breathed in deeply, filling himself with that fragrance.

  “Yeah. Maybe we could find Celia’s killer,” Rylan suggested.

  “I don’t know about you, but I know nothing about investigating a crime other than what I’ve seen on TV,” Brett pointed out. He shifted his weight forward and slipped one leg between Rylan’s thighs.

  Rylan focused on Brett’s lapel. “We know more than the police do about Celia and Clive.” He leaned in toward Brett’s body, giving a little tug on his jacket. “And there’s that club.”

  Brett leaned down and brushed his lips over Rylan’s cheek. “That there is,” he murmured and slid one arm around Rylan, pulling him closer. His other hand combed through Rylan’s hair a few times before he took hold and turned Rylan’s head slightly.

  When Rylan shuddered, Brett’s arm around him tightened. He gripped Brett’s lapel and pushed his free hand under Brett’s coat to rest on the small of his back. Brett swiped his tongue over Rylan’s lower lip a few times and when Rylan gasped softly Brett’s tongue slipped into his mouth and he pressed their lips together. Rylan leaned back against Brett’s arm and tilted his hips forward to get more of the delightful pressure to his cock from Brett’s thigh.

  Brett broke their kiss and Rylan moaned, shivering when Brett gently turned his head again. This time he licked along the shell of Rylan’s ear then pressed soft, feather light kisses down the length of his neck. Brett’s grip on him changed again and Rylan was pulled even closer, his cock dragged over Brett’s muscular thigh.

  “I can be as vanilla as you need,” Brett whispered.

  Rylan shook his head once. “I want…I need someone who takes control, so I don’t have to. I—” He stopped, not sure if he should continue.

  “Go on.” Brett pushed his leg even harder against Rylan’s balls and swollen cock.

  “Skating, performing, is all about being in control. I want that control in someone else’s hands for other parts of my life.” There, he’d said it, admitted what he’d been thinking, almost obsessing over.

  “All that’s required of you is to ask,” Brett said.

  Rylan looked up into Brett’s eyes. “Please?”

  “Not here.” Brett moved Rylan to the side and pulled out the keys, hitting the button to unlock the door. He opened it and nudged Rylan inside.

  Rylan scooted over and Brett climbed behind the wheel. As they drove, Rylan dropped one hand to his crotch, he needed some relief. Brett arched an eyebrow while he reached over and grabbed Rylan’s wrist. “Don’t touch.”

  When Brett released him, Rylan resorted to gripping his knees until his knuckles were white. “So, uh, whoever sent that postcard at least hangs out in front of that club.”

  “Frisky Flirts.” Brett shook his head. “Who is in charge of naming these places? That’s as bad as Foodie Champs.”

  Rylan snickered. “Agreed. But it’s more reasonable to think whoever that was went inside, maybe was a regular, and saw Celia and Clive more than once.”

  “Otherwise our suspect might simply think they were with a group, or another couple who might’ve included you.”

  “See, we can do this. Though, it’s pretty hard to think right now,” Rylan confessed.

  Brett glanced over and winked then tapped the digital clock on the dash. “We’ve got a few hours before the show starts to fix that.” Rylan shuddered, and Brett added, “To give up control first you’re going to have to learn a different type of control. Consider this the start of your submissive lessons.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s the attitude.”

  * * * *

  Brett might’ve talked at length about control, but he was having a tough time with it himself right now. Rylan was getting under his skin in a way no one ever did, and doing so quickly and effortlessly, the human version of a potent and addictive drug. Maybe it was because of their shared past, slight as it was. Or, maybe it was a common deep need conceived from grief. Brett wasn’t sure. He’d normally shy away from anyone that had such an emotional impact, and so quickly, but Rylan seemed to be drawing him in without even trying. Brett should resist Rylan’s pull, but the truth was, he didn’t want to.

  Setting a casual pace to their room once they were back at their hotel had him struggling not to crawl out of his skin. He was desperate to give Rylan what he wanted and make sure he—both of them—enjoyed the process.

  Brett spent the drive to the hotel and these few minutes gearing himself up to take control. Twice on the walk through the hotel and down the hall to their room, Brett put one hand, palm flat against Rylan to slow him down. He’d been reading Rylan and his desires correctly, that was obvious, and there was that powerful attraction between them. Rylan was interested in Brett’s BDSM lifestyle and they were hitting it off. They had some common interests and a solid connection, so he felt comfortable their personalities would mesh.

  Win—win.

  Get a grip, Rocha.

  Rylan stuck his hands in his pants pockets then pulled them out and crossed his arms in front of him when they stopped in front of the hotel room door. Brett took out his keycard but didn’t open the door.

  “Stand still.” Brett smiled when Rylan stilled then said, “Here’s how this will go. When we’re inside take off everything except your jeans. Then you’ll kneel next to the bed and wait for me to instruct you further. You’ll only speak when I ask a question, other than if you wa
nt to use your safeword. Pick a safeword.”

  “Safeword?” Rylan echoed.

  Brett chuckled. “Everyone does that the first time.” He halted Rylan with a hand against his chest and looked him in the eyes. “This is important. Pick a word you’ll remember, like a password, it doesn’t have to mean anything, but it matters. And you won’t have to answer seven obscure security questions to change it later if you want to.”

  Rylan snickered. “Um…axel.”

  Brett nodded and opened the door, stepping aside to let Rylan through first. “That works. It doesn’t matter what’s going on, if it becomes too much, if you want to stop, say that word and everything stops immediately. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Brett stood and watched while Rylan stripped as he’d been instructed. He took off his jeans, shed his boxers and pulled the denim back over his swollen cock with a wince and jerked in a breath.

  Rylan froze mid-buttoning his fly and looked at Brett. “Yes, sir.”

  Brett nodded before he headed to the bathroom for his shaving kit and retrieved a few condoms. There was a small container of lube, but he left it alone. He didn’t want to be drawn in that quickly. He did, however, make a mental note to purchase a larger bottle while he was out tomorrow.

  When he returned, Rylan was naked from the waist up and kneeling beside the bed, facing the bathroom. He’d clasped his hands behind his back, even without being told. His nicely shaped chest had a slight flush under the smattering of blond hair. His abs were tense and even more defined than when Brett saw them previously. Rylan glanced up, then focused on the floor almost immediately. He was shivering.

  “Are you cold or afraid?” Brett began undressing, folding his clothes and placing them on the dresser as he went.