Captive

by Scarlet Blackwell

  "But...” Gabriel stammered. “What just happened, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

  "No,” Ethan said. “You used me, Gabriel. And I have to say you weren't even any good."

  Gabriel just stared in horror. “But.... “He tried to protest again. I don't want you to go, an inner voice shouted plaintively. I don't even know you and all I know is that it will kill me to be parted from you. “Please,” was the word that came out.

  Ethan's lip curled in scorn. “Thanks for the memories, Gabriel,” he said tonelessly, before moving toward the French windows, bulky and shapeless in his snow gear like an Arctic explorer.

  "Wait!” Gabriel cried, absolute terror now taking over his desolation. “What are you doing? You're going to uncuff me, right?"

  Ethan turned back to look at him. He shook his head slowly, his eyes still flat and emotionless. “No,” he said quietly. “Goodbye.” He turned away, unlocking the windows with the key he had held for the duration of his stay at the cabin.

  As he stepped out into the snow and slammed them shut behind him, the double-glazed glass locked out the sound of the scream.

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  Chapter Six

  Gabriel awoke with a start at the computer, head down on the desk, pages of his notebook sticking to his face. For a moment he stared around him in confusion, and then started to smile sheepishly in discomfort as he recalled the dream.

  "Hey,” a voice said behind him, a moment before a hand trailed lightly over the back of his neck, making him shiver. “The deal was you write, not sleep on your desk when you could be lying next to me doing the same."

  Gabriel turned his chair around to see Ethan standing behind him, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, his skin luminous in the outer reaches of the desk lamp's glow. He reached out for him quickly, drawing him down onto his knee, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into his shoulder, inhaling his lover's familiar smell deeply.

  "What's the matter?” Ethan asked softly, stroking his hair.

  "I had a nightmare,” Gabriel said, voice muffled.

  Ethan drew back to look at him, fingers tracing the high curve of his cheekbones, green eyes dancing with adoration. “Want to tell me about it?” he asked.

  "It was a little weird,” Gabriel said, embarrassed. “I was here alone and you were some sort of criminal who broke in and held me captive and I was.... “He averted his eyes. “I was really hot for you."

  The laughter bubbled up in Ethan's throat and he bent his head and stole a kiss. “That sounds like a wet dream to me, not a nightmare,” he remarked with a smirk.

  "Well, yeah,” Gabriel said, “maybe it was. Apart from the part where you cuffed me to the radiator and left me to die.” He did not need to mention that he and Jack had still been together in the dream, because the reality was Gabriel had walked out on Jack six months ago, the day he met Ethan, a fellow writer, at a writers’ conference and ended up being bent over a bathroom sink ten minutes later.

  Ethan stared a little in surprise, made a soft noise of sympathy and drew Gabriel's head against his shoulder again. “I'm here now,” he said in a whisper.

  There was silence, the two men relishing the contact, the lingering traces of the nightmare soothed from Gabriel's mind by Ethan's hands.

  "I'm sorry I insisted on coming here with you,” Ethan said now, his face serious again, fingertips caressing Gabriel's cheek once more. “I can see I've been a distraction. You were right. I should have stayed at home. I'm a selfish bastard."

  Gabriel shook his head, lifting Ethan's hand and sweeping his lips over the knuckles. “I need you here,” he said plaintively. “You have no idea."

  As the two stared into each other's eyes, Ethan's moistened visibly at these words.

  "You handcuffed me quite a lot in the dream,” Gabriel said abruptly to lighten the mood.

  Ethan arched a perfect brow. “I did?"

  "Yeah. I think you got off on it,” Gabriel replied. “I know I did."

  Ethan was smiling now. “I think you'd better come to bed now,” he said, “because I've got something for you."

  Gabriel's lips spread into a smirk. Ethan climbed off his knee and put out his hand, which Gabriel took. Their lips met in a lingering kiss as Ethan led the way across the landing and into the bedroom.

  The room was dimly lit by the lamp on Ethan's side of the bed. The two stripped off their clothes, shivering a little, and climbed beneath the thick covers, immediately seeking the warm familiarity of each other's bodies. They kissed and caressed until both were breathing a little faster with the sweet anticipation of what was to come.

  "I really have got something for you,” Ethan said now. “I know you thought I just meant my dick, but ... hang on.... “He shuffled over to the bedside drawer and withdrew something from it, pressing it into Gabriel's hand.

  It was a pair of black fur handcuffs.

  Gabriel laughed in amazement.

  "I guess great minds think alike,” Ethan said with a smile. “While you were dreaming of these, I was plotting how to use them on you."

  "Ethan,” groaned Gabriel, planting feverish kisses on his cheek and jaw. “You have no idea how happy you've made me."

  Ethan laughed giddily. “Come here then,” he said. He maneuvered Gabriel onto his back and cuffed his hands above his head to the headboard, just like he had done in a similar way in the dream, before he had shown Gabriel the time of his life on the living room floor.

  Gabriel stared up at him as Ethan deliberately pressed his pelvis against his, making him wild with desire.

  "Do you remember?” Ethan asked in a whisper.

  Nodding, Gabriel reached up to sweep a lock of black hair back from his eyes. “Always,” he said.

  * * * *

  The conference room was full, the chatter between speakers rising to a dull crescendo of noise that threatened to undo Gabriel. Reclusive by nature, he had been persuaded by his agent to attend this writers’ symposium for the purpose of networking, David believing that Gabriel could be negotiating his way to a much better book deal with the way his latest novel had sold. He wanted Gabriel with him to meet all the top executives who would be on hand from the major publishing houses. Gabriel would have rather been in bed with Jack.

  He guzzled champagne like it was going out of fashion, relieved that it was free, as he had barely enough money in his wallet to cover more than a few drinks. He looked up at David now, almost scowling when he saw he had brought someone back to their table with him, when that look abruptly turned to a stare.

  David smiled slyly as though he read every thought in Gabriel's head. “Have you met Ethan Baker?” He asked way too casually. “He wrote Save Me."

  And Gabriel was staring for two reasons. First, because that book was by his bed and he had cried buckets over every chapter, reading it deep into the night while Jack breathed softly beside him, turning to embrace his lover once he had turned out the lights.

  Second, because Ethan Baker was the most exquisite specimen of humanity Gabriel had ever had the pleasure to behold. He wrote about love at first sight often enough, although he wasn't sure he believed in it up until that moment.

  Now he did. He believed in it with every cell of his body, which was gloriously singing; singing, dancing, and laughing gleefully. He had the bizarre urge to get on the table and start yelling to the room: “He's the one! I've found him!” He didn't give Jack a second thought as he held out a damp palm and murmured a “Hello” in the softest, shyest voice he had ever heard come from his own mouth.

  And Ethan Baker was staring too, as he took Gabriel's hand in an equally damp one. Pale and black-haired, his eyes were like two bright green jewels, quick and intelligent and full of the life Gabriel so desperately craved.

  This is the man who wrote such an amazing book, he thought. The man who told of love lost and found again. The man who had taught him that true love never dies.

  "Do you ... want some champagne?” he stammer
ed, turning red now under Ethan's intense scrutiny and David's amused watching.

  Ethan nodded as though he too couldn't find any words, and as Gabriel sat down, the other writer pulled up the chair next to him abruptly so their knees knocked and they were way too close. Gabriel felt breathless with desire, his hand trembling on the champagne bottle and slopping the liquor over the sides of the glass. He was growing steadily harder, his thoughts startlingly pornographic, involving being pinned beneath Ethan and pleasured beyond his wildest dreams.

  He looked into Ethan's eyes as he lifted his own glass and watched the other writer do the same. The two flutes clinked together and both men drank wordlessly, not taking their eyes from each other. Gabriel heard David clear his throat. He slid his eyes sideways to him. “Don't you have networking to do, David?” he asked, oblivious to how obvious this sounded. Because he knew Ethan wanted to be alone with him, too.

  David smirked a little. “Sure,” he said. “I'll catch you later.” He rose from the table with his glass and weaved away, more than a little drunk.

  Gabriel's eyes turned back to Ethan's. Suddenly he was terrifyingly nervous. “I met Stephen King earlier,” he babbled.

  "Is that so?” Ethan asked coolly with a vampiric little smile, which showed his pointed canines.

  Christ, Gabriel thought. Drink me dry. Please.

  "Yes,” Gabriel said. “He's amazing. As are you.” He stared at Ethan's full, pink mouth, thinking that it was made for sucking cock.

  Again Ethan smiled. He lowered his head now, placing his glass on the table and twisting the stem in his hand, biting at his bottom lip.

  Gabriel was so hard he ached. Seconds ticked by in silence. Finally, Ethan spoke. “Why don't you go wait for me in the bathroom?"

  Gabriel's gaze moved from his mouth up to those jade green eyes. He opened and closed his mouth in shock. “I ... I'm with someone,” he stammered finally.

  "That's too bad,” Ethan said, seemingly unruffled by this news. And with good reason, Gabriel thought. He was sure Ethan could see his desire for him written all over his face. The presence of a partner in this was irrelevant to Ethan. He was clearly going to get what he wanted.

  "I'll leave you to think about it then,” Ethan spoke again. “I'll wait five minutes for you.” He got up from the table.

  Gabriel tried to think of something to say as he walked away, but was struck mute. He watched Ethan move across the room and disappear into a door near the bar. He glanced around and caught David watching him with a smirk while talking to a man shorter than himself with a severe haircut.

  He stared down at the table, clutching his champagne glass. Damn it, damn it to hell. His pants were so tight it felt like his dick was being slowly asphyxiated. He had to have Ethan, fuck the consequences of infidelity. He just had to.

  He stood up quickly, pulling his jacket closed and buttoning it, before moving as casually as he could to the bathroom. Inside the pleasant, cream-painted room were a bank of urinals and three cubicles. The one at the end was a disabled one, big enough for a wheelchair, containing its own sink and hand-dryer. It was inside this one that Ethan loitered with a smile on his face, the door open.

  As Gabriel moved urgently toward him, Ethan gripped his tie and dragged him inside, slamming and locking the door, pushing Gabriel up against it, crushing his mouth against his.

  Gabriel saw stars behind his eyes, groaning, giving Ethan his tongue as the other author plundered his mouth with his own, wrapping his arms around Gabriel's neck and pressing himself into the other man.

  Ethan's hands moved beneath his jacket, underneath his shirt, sliding up his spine, creating flames everywhere they touched so Gabriel started to pant. When he withdrew one hand and thrust it roughly into Gabriel's groin, Gabriel thought he would explode. He whimpered with need and Ethan responded by gripping him again, turning him around, pushing him across the room to the sink and forcing him down over it, back turned.

  Gabriel, trembling, braced his hands on the mirror over it as Ethan started to undo his pants and drag them down.

  "Do you take?” he said in a hot whisper in Gabriel's ear as he closed a hand around Gabriel's length and started to jerk him off.

  "Yes,” Gabriel moaned.

  "Good,” Ethan replied in satisfaction and took his hand away. In the mirror, Gabriel watched him fumble something from his jacket pocket then unfasten his pants, dropping them and his boxers. There was a rustle now and a condom wrapper floated into the sink. A moment later, a tube of lubricant and its cap was rested on the edge. Gabriel stared at the clear liquid seeping from its nozzle as two fingers were thrust unceremoniously into him and he squirmed in delight.

  "Do you always carry lube?” he gasped out as Ethan twisted and turned those fingers, brushing his prostate and almost making him whine.

  "Always,” came Ethan's reply, his mouth against Gabriel's ear. “You never know when you might meet the man of your dreams."

  And Gabriel's heart beat gloriously and adoringly faster despite being bent over a public restroom sink by a man he had just met. Because he knew.

  "Please,” he gasped. “Please Ethan."

  "Please what?” Ethan asked teasingly, but he removed the fingers anyway, gripped one of Gabriel's hips hard, and entered him swiftly.

  Gabriel's eyes nearly rolled back in his head as Ethan bent him forward, withdrew, and hit him dead-on with his first thrust.

  "Oh fuck!” he cursed.

  He heard Ethan laugh softly. He curled his hand back around Gabriel and started to jerk him off. Gabriel steadied himself on the sink, now with white knuckles, and bit his lip to stifle the screams he wanted to emit.

  "I love your books,” Ethan purred into his ear as he fucked him more deliciously than Gabriel had ever been fucked before in his life. And he knew from that moment on that he and Jack were finished and he was Ethan's for the taking.

  He came minutes later into the hand pumping him, moaning Ethan's name with every ounce of feeling he had, thinking to himself that now he would not have to wait until this man's books were published until he had them by his bed. Now he could stand over Ethan's shoulder watching as this amazing creature poured those words out onto paper or computer. He would be the first to read those agonized, anguished words and he would be soothed better by the creator of those words as he became the first reader to cry over them. He knew this without doubt as Ethan came inside him with a groan and a soft murmur of Gabriel's name, hands clutching at his, dropping forward to nuzzle the back of his neck with tender lips.

  "Gabriel,” he said in a whisper as his warm breath cascaded over the other's heated skin. “Are you working on your new book?"

  Gabriel, trying to recover his scattered senses, was almost confused at this conversation. “Yes,” he said.

  In the mirror his glance met Ethan's. “Will you let me read some?” he asked.

  Gabriel smiled. “If I can read some of yours,” was his reply.

  Ethan smirked. “My laptop's in the car. There's five chapters of Perfection on there, my new one. Let's go."

  He moved back and started to dress.

  Gabriel wet some paper towels and started to clean himself as best he could. When he was done, he turned around to look at Ethan.

  "Promise me you won't make me cry like you did with your last one,” he said.

  Ethan looked surprised and touched. He moved fingertips softly over Gabriel's cheek. “I can't promise you that,” he said, “but I can promise you that I will never make you cry about anything else."

  He leaned forward and kissed him before turning around to unlock the door. Gabriel, following him out of the bathroom in a daze, thought to himself, He feels the same as me. Every single thought in his mind is identical to mine.

  * * * *

  Back in Alaska and Ethan was kneeling up, Gabriel's legs over his shoulders, gripping his hips as he moved slowly into him, hitting his spot effortlessly every time, while Gabriel moaned and whined for Ethan to touch him, pulling us
elessly at the cuffs that bound him to the headboard.

  They both knew that Ethan could get Gabriel off this way without touching him anyway, so these demands were rather superfluous, but Gabriel liked to be jerked off while being fucked. But truth be told, he was enjoying this total submission to Ethan, and enjoying it even more that Ethan ignored him when he begged to be touched. He enjoyed looking up into Ethan's bright eyes and seeing the thrill he was getting from fucking Gabriel this way.

  He smiled to himself, thinking the person on the bottom is often the one in control, a thought he would never voice to Ethan, lest it offend him. Ethan liked to dominate, but then he was generous with allowing Gabriel his way when he wanted it, too.

  "Fuck me,” he breathed now, lifting his hips, “Please...."

  Ethan lay down on him, seeking Gabriel's mouth with his. The dream lingered at the back of Gabriel's mind. He couldn't forget the sadistic nature of the Ethan in his dream. The way he had beaten Gabriel, the way he had cuffed him to the radiator and left him to die. But nor could he forget the way Ethan had made love to him on the floor. The way he had touched him and kissed him.

  He smiled now with his mouth against Ethan's, opening his eyes when Ethan lifted his head to look down questioningly at him. He thrust one more time and Gabriel arched off the bed, spurting onto his own stomach, crying out incoherently, while his thoughts were startlingly clear as he felt Ethan come to his own climax.

  He knew where to go from here. With Ethan by his side, he knew without doubt that the world was his oyster, that those book deals David said he could achieve were about to become a reality.

  In the morning, Gabriel would be starting a new novel, committing the nightmare to paper. His lover had always inspired him, but this would be the first time Ethan would actually appear in one of his books.

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  Scarlet Blackwell has loved books all her life. She would love to own a second-hand book shop and sit behind the counter reading her wares and writing her own all day.