Sam tried not to think about his mother, otherwise he would get too sad. Instead, he focused on thinking how to respond to such a terrible story that wouldn’t make Francesco feel bad.
“But then you got to meet Master Theodore and he’s real good to you. Isn’t he?”
Sam fretted that he might have made too rash of an assumption. He was quickly reassured by the rapturous look in Francesco’s eyes.
“Oh, Sam. I love him so much. He saved me and now he takes care of me and is so wonderful to me. He shows me how much he loves me every single day.”
“That’s really swell, Francesco. That’s how I feel about my Master as well.”
Francesco reached up and tentatively placed a finger on Sam’s collar.
“I can see he feels that way too. That’s a beautiful collar.”
“Thank you. He just gave it to me tonight to celebrate coming to the club for the first time. Yours is very ritzy too.”
Francesco grabbed the braided strips of leather tied around his neck. A jeweled padlock hung from the neck accessory. “Isn’t it keen? I got it a few months back. But I didn’t get this until a month later. This was my gift to him.”
Francesco twisted around and pointed to a raised mark about an inch in diameter that looked like an angry scar on his left ass cheek. Sam squinted his eyes. The initials ‘T’ and ‘H’ were branded in a circle on Francesco’s skin. Sam fought to keep his expression serene. His butthole clenched. It looked painful.
“Isn’t it beautiful? Now I’m his forever.”
“Oh my.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He’d had no idea that such a thing even existed. Of course, he’d had no idea about many, many other things either. “Does it hurt?”
“Not at all.” Francesco snorted. “Except for when I first had it done, I mean.” He giggled. “I didn’t know I could scream that loud.”
“Did Master Theodore make you do that?”
“Heavens no. After he told me he loved me, he said he wanted to make things permanent between us. I asked him how we could do that. He told me about the collars, keeping my cock in a chastity lock where he was the only who had the key, but when he mentioned branding, that was what I wanted. Since I can never give him a collar or a cock cage”—Francesco stifled a snicker with his hand before continuing—“this was something that could be my sign of commitment to him—wearing his initials on my body as a permanent mark.”
“Can I touch it?”
Francesco leaned in so the others couldn’t hear. “Just don’t let Master Aaron know you touched my ass. He might tell Master Theodore and then I wouldn’t be allowed to come for a whole week.”
Sam grunted. “Don’t worry. If Master Aaron found out I touched anyone’s ass, I probably wouldn’t get to come for a whole month.”
Francesco presented his butt to Sam. He pointed his index finger then ran it around the raised edge of the brand. It had been done very well. The circle was even and the letters readable. He traced the initials then withdrew his hand.
“What do you think?”
“It came out really good. Who did it?”
“My Master. Your Master has to be the one to do it. That’s the idea behind you becoming theirs. It’s the same as him leaving his marks on you like those you’re wearing now.” Francesco pointed to Sam’s ass. “Your Master would never let another man whip or beat you, would he?”
“Never! He would have a fit if another man even looked like he might touch me.”
“That’s what I mean. It’s the same as that, except this is him marking you permanently as his.”
A swirl of confusing thoughts ran through Sam’s head. Aaron had never mentioned such a thing as getting branded, and he wasn’t sure if that meant that Aaron didn’t like it or if it meant that Aaron didn’t want to frighten him by saying anything about it. In addition to that, Sam was trying to figure out why doing such a thing for Aaron had made him hard all over again.
* * * *
Sam knelt next to his chair and Aaron was close to bursting from the enormity of his feelings for his sweet boy. So many years Aaron had been alone. It had gone beyond loneliness, however. His time before Sam had been one of darkness where his own self-loathing had prevented him from achieving any true happiness with a partner. Once Saul had alerted him to that fact and he’d been confronted with Sam’s own fears about himself, everything had clicked into place for Aaron. Even if the only reason he embraced his true nature was to be strong and supportive for Sam, then that was all that would ever matter.
Aaron had given Sam permission to raise his eyes so that he could view the whipping demonstration taking place on the stage at the far end of what had once been a grand ballroom. Aaron took great comfort in running his fingers through Sam’s soft hair, occasionally stroking his cheek or nape. Sam rarely wore grease in his hair, which was how Aaron preferred it. It had really only been since he’d begun to work at Martin’s nursery and had to be out in public more that he’d asked for some pomade.
There was so much of their life together that had to be kept secret. Their sexuality. Their darker desires. Sam’s true identity. If Aaron could have asked a genie for only one wish, it would be that he and Sam could happily live their lives openly however they chose. Yet Aaron knew that the only thing that really mattered was that Sam was by his side—that Sam wanted to belong only to him forever.
He purposely ignored the voice in the back of his head that wanted to break through to the front and remind Aaron of how young Sam was. How his little Sam had only had Aaron breach him. What if Sam wanted to try someone new? Have some variety?
Aaron tensed. Sam leaned into where Aaron cupped his cheek and hummed a soft noise that Aaron had heard from him many times. Sam made it when he was contented and relaxed. It had actually been shocking to Aaron just how accepting Sam had been to the new experience at the club. If there were such a thing as a match made in heaven, Aaron believed that he and Sam would be the epitome of such a relationship.
Grasping Sam’s chin, Aaron then tilted his boy’s head up so that he could capture a kiss from his lover. After leaning down to take what he wanted, he pulled back and saw the look of adoration Sam held for him in his eyes, his expression. He had to let go of his pointless fears. Sam was his.
Chapter Twelve
Sam was very careful with his new African violet as he carried it back home. He had two of the dark purple ones, one fuchsia and the white one he’d only just purchased at the end of his shift and was in the process of bringing with him to the house. He’d dutifully given Aaron the ten percent every time he was paid, almost all of the other ninety percent going to pay for more plants, pots and soil. For their three month anniversary, Aaron had bought him a little greenhouse—it was all they’d been able to fit on the patio of the small yard in the back.
He’d been thrilled, yet embarrassed, that he hadn’t gotten anything for Aaron—not that he would’ve known what to get. Aaron had hugged and kissed him over and over, telling him that he had all he’d ever need. He had Sam. More than ever, Aaron’s statement brought to mind something that had been rolling around in Sam’s mind since meeting Francesco that first night at the club.
They’d returned two more times since then and Sam had been lucky that his friend Francesco had been there for both instances. They’d played cards, talked about their favorite things and confessed what their deepest desires were. Sam had finally told Francesco that he really wanted to get branded for Aaron, but was afraid to ask. Francesco had encouraged him by reminding him that all Masters wanted to know what their boys were feeling. Sam was resolved to talk about it with Aaron as soon as he got home.
In his peripheral vision, he noted that a motorcar seemed to have been driving awfully slow right near him for most of his walk back from work. A cold tingle ran down his spine as he remembered something Martin had told him when he’d first arrived at the nursery that morning. ‘Two men stopped in to see you, Sam. They said they were your friends and wanted to say hel
lo. I told them you’d be in later and they said they’d be back.’
Sam had been completely perplexed at first, but then he’d concluded that it must’ve been Theodore and Francesco. He’d told Francesco all about the plant shop where he worked. Something seemed off though. He’d forgotten all about Martin’s message as soon as he’d become wrapped up in the plants and their needs. Now that he thought back on it, if Master Theodore had said they’d return, they would have.
Trying to remember to breathe, Sam chanced a peek at the black vehicle less than ten feet away from him. He almost dropped his plant when he caught the eye of one of his father’s large assistants. Sam had no idea why his father had needed the burly man around him all the time or how he’d managed to find him, but that was the least of his concerns for the moment.
He couldn’t panic, couldn’t collapse into his terror. Aaron had taught him that he was strong, that he could handle almost anything if he kept his focus and remembered how good and smart he was. The car sped up a fraction, advancing close to him. That was all it took.
Feigning left as if he were going to head down a side street, he waited until they’d turned the bulky car to follow him. Then he bolted across the street behind them and jumped over a short hedge into the yard of a corner home. He scurried alongside the house until he reached the back. He knew that an alley ran between that house and the home he shared with Aaron.
Hoping that no one from the bungalow was watching him or about to call the coppers on the intruder carrying a potted flower, Sam reached the brick wall that separated the property from the alley. He placed the violets on the top then hoisted himself over. Out of breath, his heart hammering, he retrieved his precious cargo then raced for the back gate. It was locked. He set his plant down. Dragging a tin trash can over to the wall, he climbed atop, his feet scrabbling as he almost tumbled off the loose lid of the unwieldy bin.
Gazing down the length of the alleyway, he spotted the car that had been following him at the end. He squeaked. Too frightened to worry about his poor plant any longer, he threw himself over the top of the barrier. The bushes that bordered the back wall tore his shirtsleeves, scratching his arms and cheek. He stumbled and landed on the small patch of grass that comprised the main part of their backyard.
Any hope of calm or focus had been completely shattered. Hysteria threatened and all he could do was think of Aaron. He would be safe with Aaron. He had to get to his Master. After pushing up from the ground, he lunged forward, willing his shaky legs to take him to Aaron and safety.
The French doors on the patio were latched. Aaron was very careful about everything being locked up even when they were at home. Given the nature of what they engaged in, it was vital that they remain extremely alert. He frantically smacked his hands on the glass. It wasn’t his intention to break anything, but he had to get inside, had to make Aaron come to him.
Sam almost fainted with relief when he saw a visibly startled Aaron headed toward him from the inside. Aaron’s surprise changed to a look of fear and worry in almost an instant. Sam had a stray thought that he’d never seen his lover so animated. Aaron unlatched the doors, and the moment they were opened, Aaron yanked Sam inside, clutching him to his body as he relocked them. Sam noted that Aaron seemed to be checking outside, no doubt verifying that there wasn’t anyone who had followed Sam into the yard.
He turned Sam in his arms so that they faced one another. Aaron held Sam’s upper arm with one hand and grasped his chin with the other, tipping his head back and staring down at him.
“My God, Sam, you’re injured. What happened? Did someone try to rob you?”
He gasped, took in too much air then swayed. Aaron gave him a small shake.
“Breathe, Sam. You must tell me what happened so I can help you.”
That makes sense.
Sam tried to focus on Aaron’s words. He had to breathe so that he could talk. Then Aaron could make everything better.
But those men…
“Sam. Bedroom, now. Morning position.”
Those were words with which Sam was very familiar. He heard them repeatedly, looked forward to the order they brought to his world.
“Are you disobeying me?”
That jarred him. “No, Master.”
“Then take your morning position. I want to see perfect posture when I enter the room.”
Aaron must have dropped his hand already, because Sam was able to freely move out of the living area. He did as he’d been told. As soon as he’d achieved his very best stance, his breathing slowed, evened out. He fixed his gaze on the blue scarf in the painting Aaron had done of him. It had been the first of many since then. He took in the way his hands rested above his head in the picture, the scarf wrapped around his wrists like a lover’s hold. It soothed him.
“Good boy. Exactly as I like, little Sam. You’re safe in our home, safe with me. No one will ever touch you because I won’t let them. I will always protect you, no matter what.”
Aaron petted his mussed hair back from his forehead.
“Stay in position. Keep your breathing regular. I need to get some mercurochrome for your scratches.”
Aaron was back in what seemed like an instant. Sam only flinched a couple times when the antiseptic stung him as Aaron cleaned his wounds. After Aaron had finished with his task, he slowly removed Sam’s clothing then scooped him up into his arms. He carried him the short distance to the bed then gently lay him down on top of the covers. Aaron discarded his silk robe then curled up next to him, propping himself up on one elbow, stroking Sam’s hair over and over as he gazed down on him.
“Tell me, Sam. It’s my responsibility to take care of you.”
“My father found me.”
The caresses halted. “How do you know that?”
Aaron’s voice had remained gentle, calm. The carding of his fingers through Sam’s hair picked up again.
“Martin said that two friends of mine had stopped by asking about me, which I thought was very odd. Then when I was walking home, I noticed a car driving real slow next to me. I turned to see who it was and…” His breathing accelerated and he wasn’t sure he could get his words out.
“You’re safe with me, little Sam. No one can ever take you from me. I won’t let them.”
He let out a whoosh of air, grateful that Aaron had reiterated to him that Sam would be safe in his care. He knew it deep inside, but Aaron’s words were like a balm.
“Thank you, Master.” He took a deep breath, determined to get the rest of the story out. “One of the men in the car is someone I know. He works for my father and he’s really big and mean. I saw him beat up a fellow real bad at the house one time. I was in my bedroom upstairs looking out the window. I watched him sock this guy in the face again and again and he was bleeding a whole bunch. I was about twelve and I decided to stay far away from him after that.”
Aaron gathered him close, kissing the top of his head repeatedly.
“I’m going to fix this, little Sam. No one can take you from me. Never.”
There was an intensity in Aaron’s voice that Sam had never heard before. He hadn’t raised his voice in volume, but he could have been shouting. All that really mattered was that Aaron was going to handle everything. He would make it all better. Sam didn’t need to know the details or what he planned on doing. That wasn’t his place. Aaron was his Master and he was in charge. All Sam had to do was surrender his fear to him.
* * * *
“Both Bruce and George will be here?”
Aaron had enlisted Saul’s help from almost the moment Sam had told him of what had occurred. Their mutual friends, Thomas and Theodore, had also offered their assistance. Thomas knew of two big burly men—Dominants at the club he belonged to in Santa Barbara—who had been pro boxers in their day. They’d all wanted to be assured of as much back-up as possible to insure their little scheme went off without a hitch.
Saul lit up one of the rare cigars he indulged in at times. Aaron knew that his fr
iend really only had one when he was in a stressful situation. The previous few days had been wearing to everyone’s nerves.
“Most certainly, old sport. Those brutes won’t know what hit them—so to speak.” Saul chuckled. “What time did you agree on with Sam’s father?”
“Seven sharp this evening. That gives us plenty of time to set everything up.”
“Indeed it does. Your boy’s father must be quite desperate to get Sam back to agree to all of this.”
“Yes. Desperate to save his own skin. He’s a snake. I’d rather break his neck than anything, but I’ll behave myself as long as he accepts my terms.”
Saul swirled the amber liquid of his brandy in the snifter he held. They were reclining on a long brocade sofa in one of the lounges at the club. The rooms were primarily used for smaller groups of men who wanted to share their subs or who wanted to watch another pair perform together. He took a sip then set his glass down on a cherry wood Queen Anne end table.
“I imagine he will if his skin is as important to him as you believe it is.”
Aaron made a sound of disgust. “Somehow he has it in his mind that if Sam doesn’t marry this little chippy of a girl, he’ll be unable to achieve his political ambitions. Supposedly it’s vital that Sam live up to his responsibilities or else her father won’t introduce him in the proper circles to help further his goal of holding office.”
“He should redirect his focus on his ability to maintain his current lifestyle if he doesn’t give in to all of your wishes.” Saul chuckled again, appearing more relaxed after a smoke and a sip. “As if there could ever be a man who doesn’t give in to your demands.”
Shaking his head, Aaron scowled at his well-meaning friend. “Please. That conjures up rather unpleasant images.”
Saul winked. “I’m guessing that it will for your boy’s father too, after tonight.”
Hesitant Heart Page 15