Firm Hand
Page 11
He had one more piece of information he needed before making a decision. It only took one phone call to get the information he needed, Master Ford's phone number. He decided to call him right away.
"Hello?" Master Ford answered. Cornell recognized his deep baritone immediately.
"Good afternoon, Master Ford. This is Cornell Freeman. I don't know if you recognize my name?"
"I do. How are you doing? I was so sorry to hear about your accident and especially of Jonas's passing. It's a loss for the community, but especially for you, seeing how close you were. And for Rhys, of course. You have my deepest sympathies."
Cornell took a steadying breath. "Thank you, Master Ford. It's been…rough without him, but I'm surviving. Thank you for asking."
"I have a suspicion what this phone call is about, but why don't you ask me your question?" Master Ford said. Cornell was happy to hear his tone was warm and patient.
"I know you mentor Rhys, and as such, you can't tell me anything about your conversations with him. I totally respect that, but I wanted to ask your opinion on whether or not he is a good Dom. I need to be sure that he is not going hurt me, Master Ford. I don't think I could take that, not after what I've been through already."
He'd ended up revealing a lot more than he'd intended to, but maybe it was for the better. Master Ford needed to know that he wasn't trying to get him to share gossip. Cornell needed to know if he could trust Rhys.
"I completely understand the question, Cornell, and I have no trouble answering it. The quick and dirty answer is that yes, he's a great Dom. One of the best I've ever seen at that age."
Cornell let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, that's great to hear."
"That doesn't mean he doesn't fuck up every now and then, as you have discovered already."
"He told you what happened?" Cornell asked.
"Yes. And I wasn't amused. But he also told me he took full responsibility."
Cornell's first instinct was to confirm, but then he thought better of it. "I’m sorry, Master Ford, but that’s something between me and him."
A chuckle sound through the phone. "Great answer, boy. You already have loyalty toward him. That's a great start."
How he loved it that Ford, who was younger than him, so easily called him boy, signaling his acceptance of Cornell's status. "Thank you, Master Ford."
"Look, Cornell, I'm not saying he's never going to make another mistake. We both know he will, if only because he's young. But his heart is in the right place, his instincts are unlike anything I've ever seen in a man his age, and he’s eager to learn. He won't hurt you on purpose, that I can promise you."
With that said, Cornell's decision was made. "Thank you, Master Ford. I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me. Could we please keep this between us?"
"Absolutely. And if you ever need me again, you know where to find me."
Cornell ended the call and sat on the couch for a long time, finishing his tea. A strange sense of calm came over him now that he'd made his decision. He was staying.
* * *
Rhys was on his way back from grocery shopping when his mom called. For a few seconds, he debated not answering, but he knew that wasn't gonna work. His mom would keep calling until he did pick up. Worst-case scenario, she would show up uninvited. No, he'd better face the music.
"Hi, Mom," he answered.
"Hey, baby," his mom's voice echoed through his car’s speakers. "How are you?"
"Good," he said. "On my way back from grocery shopping."
"Is Cornell still staying with you?"
Well, at least she was getting to the point of her call right away, Rhys thought wryly. "Yes, he is."
He wasn't offering more than that, figuring she would have to ask if she needed more details. He had no doubt that she would.
"How much longer is he going to stay?" she asked, predictable as always.
"I don't know. We haven't agreed on an end date for this arrangement."
He could've said until Cornell is better, but he didn't want to. That would mean she had a yardstick to measure by, and he had no intention of handing her that power.
"But he's not staying for weeks, right?" The horror in her voice was palpable.
Rhys was tempted to say he hoped it would be a lot longer than mere weeks, but that, of course, was the exact wrong thing to say. "As I said, Mom, we haven't set an end date. But I'm fine with him staying, so there's nothing for you to worry about."
Any hope that would make her let go of the topic was in vain, as she proved with her next question. "Please tell me you're charging him rent of some kind?"
And there, in a nutshell, was the core of the conflict between his mom and his dad. She wasn't a bad person, not by any standards, just a very calculated one. She didn't do anything without expecting something in return. It had made her a successful businesswoman, but it was at times hard to deal with when Rhys's life philosophy was more like his dad's.
His dad had always been generous, kind to a fault, always giving people the benefit of the doubt. Rhys remembered a trip he took with his dad to New York City, years ago. His dad must've handed out money to at least fifty homeless people in one weekend. And when Rhys had questioned him about how smart it was, suggesting they might be addicted or use the money to buy booze, his father had shrugged it off. Always err on the side of kindness, he'd taught Rhys. “What they do with the money, that's their responsibility. My responsibility is to be generous to those I think need it,” he’d impressed on Rhys.
"No, Mom, I'm not charging him anything," Rhys said with a sigh.
"He's taking advantage of you, baby. He's using you."
Rhys felt his frustration rise, not merely over his mom once again butting in on his business, but about her whole tone and attitude. "I've asked you this before, but would you please stop calling me baby? I'm not a child anymore, and I've told you it irritates the crap out of me when you call me that."
Her huff of annoyance came through the phone loud and clear. "I'm your mom. I can call you whatever I want to."
"No, that's not how it works, and you know it. Let me put this in terms I know you will understand. This is a hard limit for me, okay? The next time you call me baby, I'll hang up the phone. I've asked you at least five times before, and I'm not going to ask again."
He might not be able to stop her from asking about Cornell, but he sure as hell could make her stop calling him by that stupid nickname. Not that the nickname in itself was stupid, but it was something he would want a lover to call him, not his mother. That, of course, led to him imagining what it would be like to hear Cornell call him that, and he had to force himself to clue in to his mother again, just in time to catch the tail end of a rant about ungrateful kids who didn't appreciate a mom looking out for them.
"There's a big difference between looking out for me and telling me how to live my life," he said, tired of having the same conversation with her over and over again. "The first is appropriate with your child, the second is appropriate with your subs. Please try to remember I'm in the first category."
Her tone was pure ice when she replied. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm."
"Well, I don't appreciate you disrespecting my boundaries, and yet here we are. Was there anything else?"
He knew he'd crossed the line into being downright rude, but at this point, he really didn't care anymore. He'd had so many similar conversations with her, and they all ended the same. He'd refrained from saying something often enough, but she had disregarded every time he had pointed out that she was crossing a line he didn't want crossed, so it was time for more drastic measures.
"I hope you're not doing all of this in some desperate attempt to get him interested in you. It's never going to work, him and you. You're far too young for him. He needs someone with much more experience. Besides, it's inappropriate, what with him being your godfather and all."
Rhys's blood was boiling, and the only thing that kept him from blowing a gasket was t
he realization that was exactly what she was after. It would give her more ammunition to accuse him of being immature and not ready to be a Dom. So instead, he swallowed back his temper and focused on the contradictions in her statement.
"Which one is it, him not being interested in me or being inappropriate? Because if he's not interested, as you claim, there's nothing inappropriate."
He could almost hear her clench her teeth. "I see you're not being reasonable about this. We will talk at a later time."
Rhys’s "I'm looking forward to it" came after she'd already hung up. God, he hated these kinds of confrontations with his mother. Sadly, they had become more frequent since his father had passed away. Rhys wasn't sure if it was some kind of misguided reaction on her part to protect him out of fear that something would happen to him as well, but he didn't appreciate it. Or maybe it was her way of grieving, though that didn't make a whole lot of sense either. Whatever it was, it needed to stop.
He hated that she'd been able to ruin his good mood after that morning's scene with Cornell. Cornell had kept his distance afterward, but Rhys had felt his eyes on him the entire time. He'd snuck a few quick glances in his direction, confirming the man was as much staring at him as staring into space, clearly thinking about something. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was thinking about. He still hadn't made a final decision whether or not he was going to stay after what had happened. And of course, after their encounter that morning, the stakes had only been raised higher. Would that experience make it more likely for Cornell to stay or to go? Rhys couldn't figure it out.
But as he thought about it, his mother's words rang in the back of his head, that dire warning that things could never work between them, that Cornell could never want him, that it was inappropriate. On impulse, he called his best friend, Raf.
The first thing he heard when Raf picked up was something Raf called out. "It's Rhys, Daddy. I'll keep it brief, okay?"
"Am I calling at an inappropriate time?" Rhys checked.
"Daddy is drawing me a bath, so I don't have long," Raf said. "But if you need me, I will tell him to wait," he added quickly, and how Rhys loved him for the concern he heard in his voice.
"Nah, this won't take long. Just wanted to vent about my mom being a total bitch to me again, sticking her nose in my business."
Raf sighed. "She complaining about Cornell being there again?"
Rhys had kept him up to date about her reaction from the get-go. "Yeah, and she's alternating between he'll never want me and it's inappropriate."
"Don't let her get into your head, man," Raf said, his tone warm.
"I think we've passed that point," Rhys admitted. "We had a scene this morning, sort of, me and Cornell, I mean."
"Next time, lead with that, would you? Much more interesting than your mom, no offense," Raf said.
Rhys chuckled. "I know, right? It was nothing big, but it was the first time he acknowledged me as a Dom, and it went well, I think."
"Rhys, my friend, you've wanted this man for how long? Years. Don't let your mom ruin things for you. Keep her out of it. This is between you and Cornell, and if he's responding to you and seems open to it, then trust that. And your mom can go fuck herself."
"Raphael, language!" Rhys heard Brendan call out, his voice booming and stern. He could practically picture Raf cringing now, as this would mean a punishment for sure. His Daddy was strict on language, like he was on many things. That being said, Raf loved it, and he needed the structure Brendan brought.
"Yes, Daddy. Sorry, Daddy," Raf said, his tone definitely apologetic.
"You'd better suck him off good," Rhys told him, laughing. "Otherwise you can kiss that bath goodbye, and you'll be going to bed with a red ass."
"You think?" Raf said, the sarcasm strong. "I gotta go, dude. Remember what I said, okay? Don't let her ruin things for you. Trust your instincts."
And any doubts that remained were gone when he came home and found Cornell waiting for him. He quietly watched as Rhys unloaded the groceries and put everything away. Rhys didn’t start a conversation either, sensing that Cornell had something on his mind.
“I want to stay,” he said when Rhys was done.
Rhys swiveled around. He’d not seen that statement coming. His face broke open in a wide smile. “You do?”
Cornell slowly nodded. “Yes. Just…don’t abuse my trust in you.”
“Never,” Rhys swore. “I promise.”
He stepped closer and opened his arms, wanting to give Cornell the choice. He stepped into the embrace almost instantly, and Rhys hugged him with tenderness. “Thank you,” he said softly.
Cornell put his head on Rhys’s shoulder. “No,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
11
It wasn't till the next day, when they were sharing lunch, that Rhys asked the question Cornell had been expecting. "What made you decide to stay? If I may ask," Rhys added.
Cornell studied him as he chewed on the delicious salad Rhys had prepared for them. He was an adequate cook himself, but what Rhys had been serving had been far beyond his own skill level. Today, he'd made them a hearty, filling bean soup for lunch, with a cucumber, peas, and mint salad on the side.
"This is delicious," he commented, pointing at his salad.
"Thank you."
"You're taking great care of me."
Rhys smiled at him. "Is that why you’re staying?" he asked.
Cornell took his time to answer. He knew that if he didn't want to talk about it, Rhys would accept it. But he also knew that if they had any hope of moving past what had happened, open communication was key. Everything that had ever gone wrong in scenes between him and a Dom had always been because of piss-poor communication.
"You're a caring Dom," he said. "Master Ford has taught you well."
Rhys's smile widened. "Or maybe he merely cultivated what was already in my character and instincts."
Cornell considered it. "Fair point. You're like your dad in that sense."
Rhys rolled his eyes, making Cornell chuckle. "Yeah, cause we both know my mom isn't the caring type."
Cornell held up his hands. "I'm not getting between you and your mom," he said. "I've borne the brunt of her displeasure enough times to know better."
Rhys's smile disappeared and he let out a long sigh. "I'm obviously an idiot for telling you this, but she's not a fan of you staying here."
"Color me surprised," Cornell said dryly. "No offense, but your mother has never been the kind-hearted type to take others in."
"No, that would be my dad. He never passed a donation bucket or sponsor table without donating. Hell, he even donated to the Salvation Army’s Christmas kettle, even though he knew their position on gays."
Cornell nodded. "He and I have butted heads about that more than once. But he always believed that it was his job to be kind and the other person's job to handle the responsibility of receiving the money."
"Err on the side of kindness," Rhys quoted the same saying he'd thought of the day before.
"Is that why you invited me to stay?" Cornell asked. "Kindness?"
Rhys hesitated long enough for Cornell to realize he had other reasons as well. "Partly," Rhys said. "There was no doubt in my mind it was what my dad would have wanted me to do, let's be clear about that. But to be honest, I also did it because I was interested in you as a sub. I'd hoped that living together would be an opportunity to show you the other side of me."
"The Dom side," Cornell said, and Rhys nodded. "Why would you be interested in a sub like me? I have no doubt you could have your pick of subs, what with how young and…" He wanted to say hot, then thought better of it,"...attractive you are," he said. "I assume you’re a member of the same club Ford frequents, and if I remember correctly, there is a wide assortment of available subs there."
"Have you been there recently?" Rhys asked. "I checked with Ford, wanting to make sure I wouldn't accidentally run into you and my dad, but he said you hadn't been in forever."
Corne
ll swallowed back the bitterness that rose in him. "Like I said, have you seen the subs that go to that club? Your dad and I couldn't compete with them. There's only so many times you can be ignored or rejected before it gets to you, you know."
Rhys's face tightened. "I'm sorry that happened to you. Some Doms are very limited in their tastes."
"But not you?" Cornell asked.
Rhys sent him a cheeky grin. "Maybe, but it so happens my tastes run a little more unconventional."
"So what am I to you, a challenge? Something different? You can't tell me you've already seen it all and are bored, not at your age."
Rhys shrugged. "To be honest, the endless lineup of sweet, twinky subs there never captured my attention. Even when I was still in training, my preference was for the outliers, the subs that were different."
"Much like Master Ford's," Cornell said.
"Have you ever played with him?" Rhys asked, and there was a question Cornell should've seen coming.
He let out a sigh. "I hate to say it, but at my age, you'll find that I've played with almost every Dom in the area. If that's an issue for you, you're shit out of luck."
"Not an issue, just curious. He's fiercely protective of his subs, you know. He never said a word about knowing you."
Somehow, that made Cornell feel better. He should have known after their conversation yesterday, when Master Ford had assured him as well that whatever they discussed would stay between them. Cornell was glad to see some Doms took the confidential part of their job seriously still.
"He's a great Dom," he offered. "I've only played with him twice, but very much worth it."
Rhys leaned forward, putting his utensils down as he stared at Cornell intently. "Do you usually have sex with your Doms?"
Cornell felt his cheeks heat up, much to his own irritation. This was nothing to be embarrassed about, so why did it feel like it? "Yes," he said, almost defiantly. "I never agree to it before I meet the Dom, but if it's someone I know and who I have played with before or someone with a good reputation, then yes. You'd be surprised how hard it is to score a good fuck, even without doing a scene. Most tops my age prefer younger bottoms."