Carlyle shook is head and leaned forward, his face inches from Jake’s. “This is not what the Bureau can do for me, but what you can, agent.”
“All right,” conceded Jake. He shifted in his seat. Carlyle already had the upper hand and they both knew it. Question was, what did he expect Jake to do?
“For those records, I want to flog you.” It was disturbing how calmly Carlyle said it, like he was asking to borrow a car. Most people didn’t’ ask to beat someone, let alone so cavalierly. This is what he wanted?
“Like a whip?”
Carlyle smiled, “Not exactly. A flogger is much gentler, at least the one I use on you will be.”
“That’s what you want in exchange? To hurt me?” The oddity of the proposition had Jake stumped. “Why?”
“Few things are as enjoyable to me as beauty crying.”
Whoa. Who even spoke like that? The guy was definitely loose a couple screws. Carlyle was so close that he saw nothing but the Cheshire Cat grin.
“Will you accept the pain?”
Taking Measure
Jake finished his morning run and showered, then headed over to Carlyle’s villa as agreed. Foregoing the office was probably not a bad idea, a bit more private. Although, Jake wouldn’t put it past Carlyle to be able to whip him and take a conference call at the same time. The man was ice. Hammering out the details had been straightforward. Carlyle wasn’t the kind of man who dithered. He knew what he wanted and said so. Jake knew that he was a good-looking guy, but he had never received a proposition quite like this before. And while he was reassured that it wasn’t sexual, Carlyle was into some kinky shit. Shared affinity, my ass. Carlyle’s idea of playing was to get his kicks from hurting Jake. The guy was a sadist.
He threw the smashed memory card from his burner phone in a communal bin near the pool. When he’d called the office, Johnson had listened to Jake’s report without interruption. Finally, he asked if Jake would be able to execute the task. Jake could sense Johnson’s hesitation. Neither of them was thrilled, but knowing that he had the opportunity to get something the FBI didn’t have—to get it for them, well, Jake was compelled. This case could make his career, and he had no intention of letting it slip away.
Carlyle’s affinity for hurting people, it wasn’t one Jake shared. After growing up with three older brothers and the requisite roughhousing that ensued, Jake could say that people beating up on him was not checked in his ‘Like’ column. Whatever. He’d get the companies; Johnson would be pleased. Carlyle could have his jollies. Making contact was easier than Jake imagined, also a lot different.
He knocked. Surprisingly, it was Carlyle who answered, waving him inside “Come on in, agent.” Bright sunlight filled the airy room and the windows offered a spectacular view of the turquoise waters lapping on the shore. Maybe thirty steps and you’d be wet. This had been the last villa Jake ran by in the morning, before reaching the desolate stretch of beach to the north.
“Do you have any questions?”
They were alone, though Jake could make out a large figure under the palm just outside. Wallace. Carlyle was never really alone.
“You’re going to give me the names after, right?” No need to beat around the bush. Jake expected Carlyle would keep his word, but he wanted to hear him say it. Besides, if he were going to lie to him, would he go through all this trouble?
“Yes.” Carlyle waved a manila envelope. “All here, though your lack of trust is disturbing. When you’re done you can take it and enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Great. Let’s do this.”
“Do you have any questions about what I’m going to do?”
He just wanted to get this over with and Carlyle wanted to talk about it, again. He shook his head. “No. Gonna whip me and—“
“No.” Carlyle abruptly interrupted and then chuckled. “I will certainly not being whipping you.” He drew a hand down Jake’s back. “I’ll be flogging you. Much gentler.” Carlyle smiled as he kept stroking him, petting him. Jake started to relax. “Don’t want to scare you away too soon.”
“Sure.” Jake nodded. Somewhat more at ease he asked, “Where do you want me?”
“Follow me.” Carlyle wandered into the sitting room right off the beach. The entire glass walled opened to let in the breeze. “Take off your shirt and grab hold of those straps.”
Leather loops hung from an exposed beam in the ceiling. Jake pulled the polo shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. He grabbed hold of the loops, the leather supple in his palms.
“No. Put your wrist through the loop and hold the strap.” Carlyle picked up Jake’s shirt, folded it, and put it to the side. His hands rubbed up and down Jake’s back, warm and gently kneading. “You have a nice run, agent?”
“Wonderful. It’s beautiful here. Can’t think of anything nicer than a run on a quiet stretch of beach.”
“Hmm… I can. But, your muscles are nice and warm, so let’s start.”
At first, it tickled as Carlyle ran the strands along his back. How was this ever going to hurt? Fool. Well, ten minutes later Jake’s back was on fire. It was hot, and every stroke felt like spatters of hot oil across it. He grunted with each one, now. Jake strained, tightening his holding, exhaling with each strike and tried to ride the sensation. Feeling like he was outgrowing his skin, even the skin of his dick felt too tight. Fuck. His boner was a truncheon, trapped between the denim and his hip.
“You are exquisite.” Carlyle walked around front and held up a water bottle in offering, his hand wandering along Jake’s side, abdomen, skirting the waistband of his jeans.
“All done.”
Jake had to consciously unclench his fingers from the leather, stiff from gripping. He freed one hand, then stumbled. Carlyle propped Jake up with his shoulder. Shaking his other hand free, Jake grabbed the water as Carlyle guided him across the room to a bench. He slid down Carlyle’s body more than sat.
“You all right?”
“Just dandy.” Jake took a large gulp of water. He finished the bottle and rested his arms on his legs breathing deeply. The pain was still raw and bright; he was waiting for the edge of it to dull so that it blanketed him instead of flared. Jake liked the comfort of feeling his self, his body—he knew it was real.
Carlyle spread a cool liquid across his back, and Jake hissed. Suddenly, the fire dimmed to warmth. It was soothing after the intensity, coaxing pleasure from the pain. If his dick weren’t so hard, he’d say he felt pretty darn good.
“You sure I can’t do anything else for you, agent?” Carlyle passed Jake a second bottle.
“Nope.” He hunched over, with one arm across his lap, the other tipping more water down his throat. Jake tried to ignore Carlyle the way he ignored his hard on.
Carlyle dropped the envelope on the seat beside him. “Feel free to take as long as you want to relax. I have a meeting; we’ll be in touch.”
Jake nodded as Carlyle exited via the door to the beach. As he strode towards the hotel Wallace caught up to him, bending over to talk to him. As soon as Jake could stand without his dick sticking straight out, he left the same way, following their path back.
Round Two
Jake ripped off his shirt. He needed those wire numbers. Carlyle could flay his back raw as far as he was concerned, if he would give him those numbers. Jake faced Carlyle. “Ready,” he said.
Carlyle shook his head smiling. “You want a lot more this time, agent.” Crossing his arms he continued, “I want more, too.”
There was little doubt what Carlyle meant, with him pointedly staring at Jake’s jeans. Jake raised his brow, fingers going to the button. “These?”
“Yes, those. Off.” Carlyle nodded. “I want access.”
Fine. He could take it. Carlyle could paddle his ass, flog him, whatever. Pain was irrelevant.
“And, I want to record our scene.”
Mid-zip Jake stopped. “No.” Unwavering, his eyes met Carlyle’s.
“Then I guess we’re at an impa
sse, I want something, and you want something.”
What game was he playing at now? Fucking A, no. No recording. He couldn’t afford it. If anyone from the Bureau saw it—Hell, if his father saw it, his brothers—NO.
Jesus F. He needed the information. His team was counting on him; Johnson was expecting him to get what they needed to take down Ziehe. When was doing the job too much, beyond the call of duty?
Carlyle interrupted his reverie quietly pointing out, “Just your back and legs. No face. As long as you stay in position you’ll be unrecognizable.” His calmness was oddly reassuring.
Fuck, it was tempting. Without his face visible he’d have plausible deniability.
“For my private collection, us three will be the only ones who ever know about it.”
Shit. Wallace. The man’s stealth made him near invisible, which was inconceivable considering his size. Jake observed the hulk, silently guarding the door. Carlyle took his personal security very seriously. Jake had no interest in getting on Wallace’s wrong side.
He ran his hand through his hair; he could do this. “No face,” he agreed. “And the briefs stay on.”
Carlyle smiled. “You can keep your underwear, agent.”
He finished pulling down the zipper, stepped out and kicked them to the side. He felt fine in his boxer briefs. His swimsuit was more revealing. If Carlyle wanted a better look at his ass he could have it; Jake wasn’t ashamed. He worked hard to stay in peak form and it showed.
He felt both sets of eyes on him as he walked over to the leather loops and put his wrists through, grabbing hold of the strap. His arms pulled up and out. Knowing the pain would be easier he tried to relax as he waited.
Carlyle walked around to his front. “Remember to keep your head forward and no one will ever know.” He pinched a nipple and Jake jerked as a bolt of sensation rocked through his body. “Oh, that is nice. I’ll have to remember that for next time, agent.” Carlyle squeezed the other one, then twisted it sharply.
Fuck. Jake pushed his chest forward to try and lessen the pressure. Carlyle smiled, and then let go.
“As charmingly responsive and enticing as your nipples are, I’m afraid we have other plans today.” Carlyle walked behind him. Jake heard a cabinet opening and then a telltale swish—the flogger.
“First, I’m going to warm you up, and then I’m going to make you scream.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I love it when you play along, agent.”
The light strikes caressed his upper back and thighs, avoiding his ass. Jake could hear it swing through the air before it slapped down. The stings grew harder and sharper. Each strike was fire ants, biting all over. His back was no longer warm, but hot—the fire licking at his thighs. He shifted unconsciously.
“Steady. Keep breathing. We’re just getting started, boy.” Jake tightened his grip on the leather, slicing into his hands.
“You take so much. So well.” Carlyle’s voice was deeper. Now the strands felt like they were cutting. Surely, he was bleeding. Trickles ran down his back. He cried out with the next stroke. “Yes. That’s it. Come on, give it to me.”
“God!” This was insane. There was something wrong with his body; the pain began to morph and it felt like waves going across his body. Not pleasure, not pain. He wanted more—this was fucked up.
“There you go.” The swings were steady, each a wash against him like waves lapping at the shore, like a tick of the clock and then . . . it all stopped. “So beautiful, Jake.”
“No… More,” he begged. Hands traced his back, streaks of pain echoing in their wake. Jake groaned at their ghosts, the sensation sharp, wavering and then fading. “Please—“
“So gorgeous,” said Carlyle. Hands petted him, awakening the pain, stroking it. Carlyle’s body was hot along his side, his silk shirt sticking to Jake. Lips wrapped around his nipple as teeth bit down, pulling and gnawing.
Fuck! “Don’t stop, don’t stop…” pleaded Jake. A firm hand grabbed his cock. His hard cock. “Ohh—“ Too many, too much. He couldn’t keep track, his brain was no longer functioning, everything was just one giant sensory input overwhelming him.
“Yes,” Carlyle whispered, pain trailing the hand down Jake’s back while pleasure bloomed within the grip of his fist. Each enticing, beckoning him. “Let me… take care of you.”
Jake bucked up into his hand. God yes. No. When had that happen? He was so hard; Carlyle’s fingers were so good. Jake briefly wondered about how he should be upset that he was touching his junk, then jerked up into that hand. Fuck, yeah.
Carlyle seemed to know just what to do, how to hold him just so, with just the right pressure. A handjob seemed like the perfect thing. An irresistible offer.
He made up his mind . “Yes,” Jake said thrusting harder.
“Good boy.” And the hand sped up, the cotton rubbing against his length as Jake chased the sensation. It wasn’t going to take long in Carlyle’s warm grip. “Perfect. You are—“
Jake cried out, his orgasm taking over as he jerked, dangling from the straps. The barest hold on consciousness keeping him upright.
Carlyle pried Jake’s right hand open. “Let go. Let go, Jake.” He draped Jake’s arm over his shoulder, and they repeated the process with the left side. Jake leaned against Carlyle, as hands cupped his ass and pulled him close. “Come on. Just over here, and lay down for a second,” Carlyle coaxed. He was so gentle, in contrast to the pain he’d delivered. Jake was confused but he wanted more. More of that soothing gel, more of Carlyle’s hands.
Jake followed, his feet dragging as Carlyle half-carried him, and then Jake fell forward onto the leather-covered bench as Carlyle pulled away. He turned his head to watch. Carlyle moved calmly, gathering a few things and returning to Jake’s side. Carlyle was hard. Jake shivered. He’d done that. This excited him. Jake excited him.
Cool hands gently rubbed lotion across Jake’s thighs and he spread them wider.
“You are so perfect.” Carlyle spread more lotion, liberally coating the abused flesh. His legs were pleasantly numbed as the hands massaged higher on his thighs. “You have no idea how tempting you are like this, relaxed and spreading your thighs for me, agent.” He gave a friendly slap to Jake’s ass and moved his touch higher up Jake’s body.
“Hmmm… “ Apparently, speech was not functioning, yet. Carlyle’s interest was obvious. The dossier had only shown women, but how he made his way around Jake’s body there was no doubt that he knew men. Was intimate with them.
Carlyle chuckled. “Hmmm… indeed. If you were my boy, I’d be fucking that ass right now.” Those hands started their magic on his back and Jake sighed, ignoring Carlyle’s insinuations. “Good?” Stroking higher, moving over his traps and delts. Bliss.
“Yeah,” he managed to groan, with a small exhale.
Shall We Dance, Again?
Jake was beginning to look forward to their negotiations. Carlyle’s information was good; solid leads that his team were following up on. The case on Ziehe had progressed more in the last week than it had in the two years prior. Johnson was pleased with Jake’s success and was urging him for more. They had stopped discussing what Carlyle wanted from Jake and concentrated on what they wanted in exchange; relieved that Johnson had given him sole discretion in pulling the plug Jake pushed ahead. Each time he dropped a memory stick in their designated location Jake marked as progress Surprisingly, the trading wasn’t nearly as hard as he expected when Carlyle first suggested the arrangement.
Carlyle tossed a paper with a neatly scribed cipher across the wide desk. Jake looked at him in askance. Carlyle always wanted something.
“You’ve a spa appointment scheduled for 1 p.m.”
Jake smiled at the attendant who tapped on his shoulder. He followed her down a corridor to another private room. After his manicure, pedicure and facial, he was more confident about the full body wax. Everyone was professional, made him feel comfortable. His brothers would laugh their asses off if they knew, but Ja
ke kind of liked it.
The young woman ushered him into a pale green room, softly lit, orchids covering one wall and a narrow pool beneath them. Soothing.
“Please remove all your clothing.” She gestured to a small set of cubbies. “There are some cleansing cloths to freshen up all your private areas.” Pointing to a small stand. “When you’re done, lay on your back, and cover yourself with one of the towels. Ethan will be with you, shortly.”
Jake reclined back onto the flat chaise, the cream leather cool against his skin. He draped the towel over his groin, and closed his eyes. The soft discordance of the water tumbing down into the pool relaxed him. He almost missed the quiet swoosh of the door.
“Not sure how much work I really have to do,” said the young man who entered. He was about Jake’s age and smiled. “I’m Ethan. Can I offer you some water before we start?”
Jake shook his head. “No, thanks. They gave me a bottle before my facial.”
“First time at the spa?”
“That obvious?”
“Not really, but I like to know how much detail to go into.”
“First time for a spa and pretty much everything here.”
“Ahh… here for the full package.” He pulled on a pair of gloves and started explaining what would happen. Jake listened. “Honestly, you’re naturally sleek so while this will hurt a bit since you’re not use to it, it really shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay.” Not like Jake had made the choice himself, Carlyle had, but Jake had liked everything so far. Besides, Ethan seemed nice. Objectively speaking, Ethan was attractive. Jake had never stopped to think about whether men were aesthetically pleasing before, but now he could appreciate that he was good looking.
A Shift in Sands Page 2