Matt laughed, not a little self-deprecating. Another fucking mind fuck.
Lawson’s hand stilled. “Answer the question.”
“Yeah.” Matt brought his head up from where it rested on his arm and looked over his shoulder. “I’m good.”
“Good.” Lawson’s gaze darkened. “I’m afraid we’re going to be a while.”
Matt worked his tongue around his suddenly dry mouth and ducked his head back into the crook of his arm.
Lawson edged down Matt’s shorts so they hobbled his knees. Matt’s dick, still unsatisfied from the interlude with Curtis, decided it liked the sturdy pressure of Lawson’s thigh and began to reawaken.
Lawson patted his ass, making Matt jump. “Right hand, behind your back.”
Matt lifted his arm from where it dangled off the couch, and Lawson grasped his wrist. “Still good?”
Matt nodded into his arm.
“Words.” Lawson issued the command, terse.
Matt scrambled to dig a few syllables out of his buzzing brain. “Yes…sir.”
Lawson’s “Hm” said he appreciated the honorific, but it wouldn’t do Matt a lick of good.
The first smack was a revelation. Delivered to the meatiest part of Matt’s ass, it brought his head up. If his calves hadn’t been trapped under Lawson’s leg, he would have kicked, unable to help himself. Ten strokes in and he couldn’t see through the snot and tears. He wouldn’t need to apologize when Lawson was finished, because “I’m sorry” had replaced “fuck you” as his new mantra.
He lost count at twelve and couldn’t form words soon after. Finally, mercifully, Lawson’s hand stopped its rise and fall, and Matt gradually bobbed to awareness. Heard his own slowing breaths, registered the world beyond the fire that had spread from the crest of his ass to the back of his thighs.
Loosening his hold, Lawson tugged Matt up and into his arms. The near-burning heat of his palm registered on Matt’s shoulders, where he soothed back and forth. “Better?”
Lips parted, Matt tipped up his face, searching Lawson’s gaze for he didn’t know what.
A light squeeze on his ass made Matt hiss as Lawson spoke softly. “You did well.”
“I...” Gaze dipping, Matt chewed his lip. “Needed that.”
“Yes.” Lawson lifted Matt’s chin with his knuckle, brushed Matt’s bottom lip with his thumb. “You did.”
“Thank you.”
Lawson nodded, tucking him back into his chest. Snugged in, Matt listened to his Dom’s heartbeat. Eyelids fluttering shut, he sighed…
And found his center.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Straightening his tie, Lawson eyed Matt through the mirror and shook his head as the man reached for the iron once again. Shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of faded blue jeans that hung low enough to show he’d gone commando, the man was too damn tempting. And completely unaware of how close he was to making Lawson late with that sexy pout he made when he was trying to look stern.
With his sore ass a reminder that the wrong approach could earn him a punishment.
An interesting conundrum. Lawson took pity on him.
“I burnt myself on pasta. It’s not a common occurrence.” He bumped Matt aside, keeping his tone light so there’d be no mistaking that this was a simple domestic disagreement, not a matter where he should tread carefully as a submissive. “I don’t need you to iron my clothes for me.”
Matt’s hip hit his as he fought for position in front of the ironing board. “You’re on antibiotics for your last burn. I can’t pull rank on you, but I’m sure Doc will.”
“It’s—”
“Don’t say it’s nothing. You had to remove yourself from the list of available fighters for the past two weekends. You’re lucky it wasn’t bad enough to get you admitted to the hospital.” Matt’s expression tightened. “I’m the reason you let it get so bad. Please just…just let me do things for you. At least until you’re fully healed.”
Having someone else take care of him would require some getting used to. Matt shouldn’t feel obliged to do more than his share around the house, but the lingering guilt from his ill-advised fight against Ram and all the repercussions that came in its wake was unacceptable. If ironing the pants would make Matt feel better, he’d allow it.
He stepped back from the ironing board and motioned for Matt to go ahead.
“Are you nervous?”
Arching an incredulous brow at Matt’s questioning gaze, Lawson sat on the edge of their bed and shook his head. “Why would I be?”
Teeth pressed into his bottom lip, Matt shrugged and turned his focus to passing the iron over the dark blue fabric. “I see you get ready for meetings with CEOs of big companies all the time and you’re more relaxed. You haven’t seen Noah since before I got here. He’s important to you and it shows.”
Lawson’s first instinct was to protest. Instead he inclined his head. He demanded the truth from Matt. He’d give him no less. “Seeing him there is difficult. I want to believe we can find a way to get him out, but he has the best lawyers. His mother made certain of that. He resisted having any of us visit him, but finally gave in for me alone because he knows I can handle it.”
“And you have to make sure he has no reason to doubt that.”
“Exactly.” Lawson’s lips thinned. He rubbed his hands on the comforter to dry them, irritated with his own inability to be as reserved as Noah would expect him to be. “I also promised Ezran I would ask Noah if he could visit. The boy will likely be disappointed, but I have to try.”
“Do you…” Matt lifted the iron, setting it aside and adjusting the pants on the ironing board. “I could come with you. Even if it’s just for the drive. I’m done for the day and Garet earned himself two hours of video game time from Curtis. He’s all set.”
Over the past two weeks, as they’d settled into a comfortable routine, one of the priorities had been Matt having time to spend with his brother. That they weren’t living in Curtis’s loft together could have put distance between them, but Matt was as welcome in Curtis’s home as he was in his own.
In a short time, Lawson had stopped thinking of the loft as his as it became theirs. The shift had been natural and he couldn’t imagine a single day where he wouldn’t wake with Matt by his side. A night where he didn’t hold him.
Seeing Noah, having to leave him locked up behind those concrete walls once the visit was over, would leave him in his own kind of cell. Powerless, trapped in the past with decisions he’d made that he couldn’t take back. It always did.
But maybe less so if Matt was with him for the long drive.
“I’d appreciate your company, thank you.” Lawson took the pants Matt handed him, chuckling when his man stared at him as though he’d just suggested switching his wardrobe with Reed’s for the day. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to wonder if I’ve been neglecting you. There’s an easy fix to that.”
Cheeks reddening, Matt shook his head, bringing one hand to his ass. “No thank you, sir. I still have the reminder from last time. Thank you for having Curtis explain to me the different ways a ‘switch’ can be defined.”
With an amused smile curving his lips, Lawson finished pulling on his pants and crossed the room, cupping Matt’s cheek before brushing a kiss over his lips. He’d take exception to the sarcasm in Matt’s tone, but he enjoyed letting Matt get away with just enough for him to keep that spunk, while knowing if he went too far, he’d be taken in hand. The switch had been the result of Matt snapping at Curtis for trying to tease him out of a sulk.
As much as Matt might grumble about the fifteen lashes across his ass making it hard to sit on the barstools, Lawson could tell he’d needed an outlet for the jumble of emotions he’d been suppressing. The last two weeks hadn’t been easy on the man. He’d still been trying to decide what to do with his house when he swung by with Reed and saw the eviction notice taped to the door. Curtis had presented him with his first paycheck—including backpay—so Matt had made sure his
rent and utilities were paid on time, but complaints about The Ravagers hanging around and frightening the neighbors had Matt’s landlord sending several warning notices Matt hadn’t received.
The next day Lawson had rented a moving truck and between him, Matt, Curtis, Reed, and the boys, they’d gotten all Matt and Garet’s belongings packed, bringing what they didn’t need at The Asylum to storage. Matt was understandably upset about losing the last bit of independence he’d managed to hang on to. Having a regular paycheck helped, but his entire life revolving around the club had him restless.
To top things off, last week Ram had informed Curtis that he wouldn’t be renewing his membership. Members left all the time for different reasons, but Ram’s little clique had used his departure as a catalyst to sow dissension, stoking the resentment many already had against Matt. Which Lawson had been unaware of until Reed came to him, pissed off with the way Matt was being treated when he and Curtis weren’t around.
Crass insults, crowding Matt when he was alone, ‘accidental’ spills where he cleaned, blocking his path when his arms were full of supplies for the bar—all petty shit Matt faced with a stiff upper lip and zero complaints.
“One word and I will end this.” Lawson put his hand on Matt’s shoulder as Matt refilled the mop bucket for the third time Saturday evening, having just finished sweeping up the broken bottles from a tray that had been knocked out of his hands. “I’ll tear up every single one of their fucking memberships.”
Matt shot him a dry look as he hauled the bucket out of the large utility sink in the storage area. “Yeah, that’ll show them I’m not just your little fuckboy.”
“Why should their opinions matter?”
“Because they want to prove I don’t belong here.” Brushing away the blond strands of hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, Matt lifted his chin. “I’m going to show them I do.”
The man had a point, but Matt’s win against Ram should have earned him at least the grudging respect of the members. And would have had Ram stayed. Not that Lawson would miss having the lowlife around, but instead of taking his loss with some dignity, he’d slunk off, leaving his pack of followers to avenge him.
Fucking coward.
Lawson had scheduled more consultations recently so he could increase his investment into the club’s renovations, but he’d take the next few days off to deal with the issues at The Asylum. There was a waiting list for new members he’d been meaning to go over with Curtis. New blood would take the focus off Matt and they might finally have enough challenges on the books to open Wednesdays and Thursdays, which Curtis had been pushing for over the past two years.
Tracing his thumb along the light scar on Matt’s chin, Lawson searched his man’s face for any sign that he wasn’t happy here. He looked a little worn out, but his expression softened as he leaned into Lawson’s touch.
“I’m okay, Lawson. Seriously.” Matt’s gaze held his in that stubborn way he had that was as endearing as it could be frustrating when he was determined to handle whatever problems he faced on his own. “I have a feeling you’re not thinking about how much abuse my ass has taken though.”
“No, it’s hard to feel sorry for you when you come in the middle of a punishment. Curtis is losing his touch.” Lawson smirked when Matt’s lips parted. He pushed his mouth closed with a finger under his chin. “I don’t want you to feel trapped here.”
“I don’t.” Matt stepped away from Lawson and retrieved his suit jacket from the closet, holding it out for him. “I put in an application to teach at the training center downtown. Since Curtis is leaving, there’s an opening. He wanted me to sign on as one of his instructors, but…” Matt sighed and shook his head. “I need something of my own.”
“I’ve no doubt Curtis understands.” Lawson pulled on his jacket, then reached out and put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “All of your references in training and competition will be dated—will you at least let me put in a good word?”
“Not sure you’ll need to.” Matt went to his dresser and grabbed a plain, dark blue t-shirt. “I had to put The Asylum as my home address. The receptionist asked what I did here and who the owner should speak to when he called. I told her to talk to Reed.”
“Have they called yet?”
With a curt nod, Matt started for the door, donning his own light, simple black sports jacket. “I heard Reed on the phone with them yesterday. He brought up Noah five times.”
“A little help to get your foot in the door doesn’t hurt, Matt.” Lawson couldn’t blame the man for being frustrated that the efforts he’d made to have a life outside of The Asylum depended on his connection to it.
Lifting his shoulders, Matt waited in the hall while Lawson locked the door. He shot Lawson a sideways glance as they started down the stairs. “It doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I’ve had a lot of shitty jobs and never thought I could do anything with what I really love. No matter how I get the job, it’ll be up to me to prove I’m a good fit.”
“You will.” Lawson slid his arm around Matt’s shoulders, nodding to Reed as they passed through the bar.
For some reason, Reed lay sprawled out on the bar, reading a Captain Marvel comic, looking like he’d chosen his outfit from inspiration on the pages within. He glanced over, shifting the lollipop he was sucking on to the other side of his mouth.
“Oh hey, I was waiting for you to come down.” He sat up and plucked out the candy that had stained his lips cherry red. Setting the lollipop on his bare knee, he reached behind the bar and grabbed a small box full of books. “I’ve been collecting these for Noah. Weird old action novels he’s into, I had to go through every second-hand bookstore in the state to find them. You think he’s allowed to have them in prison?”
“I’ll find out.” Lawson took the box under one arm, then cuffed the young man’s chin lightly with his free hand. “Don’t let Curtis catch you up there. He has a new paddle he hasn’t had the opportunity to use yet.”
Reed lifted his shoulders and set the lollipop between his lips. He smirked around it at Matt. “Tough luck, pal. I’ll get you a cushion if ya need one.”
“Uh huh.” Matt leaned over and tapped his fingers next to the scuff marks Reed’s sneakers had left on the glossy wood surface of the bar. “Baking soda.”
“Shit.” Reed playful expression shifted to panic. He scrambled off the bar. “Do we have any?”
Matt’s lips slanted. “Middle cupboard, next to the Windex. You owe me.”
“You got it.”
Conspiring submissives were never a good thing, but Lawson let it slide. Reed had his quirks, but other than his occasional cheekiness he usually behaved himself. If he didn’t…
Stepping out into the blazing sun which contrasted with the chill in the air, Lawson considered Reed’s recent shift in attitude. His friendship with Matt was much needed considering the animosity of the other members, but the uncharacteristic way the typically eager-to-please sub was acting out needed to be addressed.
Ezran’s outright defiance made it easier to focus on how Noah’s absence had impacted him, but Reed always seemed to take everything in stride. The rare times Reed got mouthy or crossed the line with his antics, a few firm words were usually enough. Or one of the many creative punishments from the list of rules Curtis had for the teens.
Which might be where the disconnect came from. Reed wasn’t a child and his needs were much like Matt’s, though he didn’t seem to require the same strict boundaries. The Doms he played with in the club enjoyed his bratty side and managed it in their own ways for the night they were with him.
Reed hadn’t gone upstairs with anyone for almost three weeks now. Maybe Lawson should find someone to challenge him. Someone he couldn’t beat, no matter what tricks he used.
“Everything okay?” Matt took the box from Lawson, setting it in the backseat of the car as Lawson slipped in behind the wheel.
Lawson waited until Matt was seated beside him before nodding. “Just
thinking about the new members we’ve considered from the waiting list. Doc brought in one of the residents he works with who he’s been training, Keith Stryker. Another sadist. You’ve met him, haven’t you?”
“Yeah…” Matt gave a little shudder. “Nice guy, but he’s got that...thing.”
Pulling off the long side street, onto the main road, Lawson glanced over with a frown.“Could you be more specific?”
Tongue between his teeth, Matt’s expression turned thoughtful. “Some of the Doms have this presence that you can feel the minute they look at you a certain way. Both you and Curtis do.” A flush spread from the back of his neck, up to his cheeks. “Doc’s is different. So’s Keith’s.”
“How so?”
“They’re… Fuck, I don’t want to say scary, but there’s not really a better word for it.” He let out a nervous laugh. “Like ‘Danger!’ back away slowly.”
An apt description. Not that Lawson had ever gotten that impression from Doc himself, but there were moments when Doc tended to a wound that he’d get a gleam in his eyes. One that said he’d enjoy any reaction to the pain. Sadists were definitely a different breed that any sub who wasn’t a masochist should approach with caution.
But Keith hadn’t listed any hardcore kinks on his application. He came across fairly laid back. “Did Reed seem interested in the man?”
Matt’s brow furrowed. “He flirted with him a bit, but Reed flirts with everyone.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
“Dude.” Matt shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not setting Sparkles up with a fucking sadist.”
Lawson arched a brow, keeping his eyes on the road as he merged onto the highway. “Rephrase that. And don’t call me ‘dude.’”
“Would ‘Master’ be better?”
“Depends on if you think your ass is in any condition for me to borrow that paddle from Curtis. I understand Reed is your friend, and you get worked up when you’re being protective, but I’m not the enemy, Matt.” Lawson shook his head as Matt sat back in his seat with a scowl. “I take it I’m not the only one who’s worried about him?”
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