Dangerous Games

by Claire Thompson

  Jane’s was noisy and crowded, the music too loud for much conversation. While Amelia and Chloe danced, Luca nursed a beer at the bar, trying not to think about Reese, and failing miserably. He’d blocked Reese’s number so he wouldn’t have to continue being tempted by the barrage of texts. It was better that way. Now that he knew what a fake Reese was, he had no intention of letting the guy try to worm his way back into Luca’s life for his and Hank’s cruel amusement.

  “Hey there. I’m Nick. Haven’t seen you around here before.”

  Luca turned to the man who had slid onto the barstool to his right. He had dark hair and eyes, and sported a full beard. He wasn’t bad looking, but the best thing about him was he looked nothing like Reese. “Hey,” he replied with a nod.

  “There’s a back room. Wanna go make out?” the guy queried.

  Luca stared at him. He’d never understood how easily guys picked each other up at these places, without exchanging more than a word or two. It had never been Luca’s scene. He’d had this crazy idea that it mattered if you had something more in common with a guy than an erection. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he should just fall into bed, or in this case, into some dark, sweaty back room at a gay bar, with a total stranger. It would certainly be a distraction, if nothing else.

  But the thought of fumbling in the dark with some slobbery stranger made him feel queasy. His lips still tingled at the thought of Reese’s mouth against his. His cock still throbbed with longing for a man who didn’t even exist. He shook his head. “S-s-sorry. Not interested.”

  Fortunately, Nick didn’t seem to take offense. With a shrug, he turned his attention to the man on his right. Luca stared down into his beer, missing Reese with every particle of his being.

  Luca spent a pleasant, somewhat nostalgic day that Friday wandering around Harvard Square, checking out the new stores that had opened since he’d left, and returning to some of his favorite places, including the used bookstore he’d used to frequent to satisfy his science fiction addiction. He picked up a few old Asimov novels, one of them actually a rare first edition in pretty good shape.

  Amelia and Chloe were going to a party that night. They’d invited him to come along, but Luca had demurred, claiming he was going to spend the evening just relaxing and catching up on some emails.

  In fact, he’d decided he would check out Hidden Door, a BDSM club that had good reviews and was gay-friendly. He wanted to find out if the incredible connection he’d felt with Reese during their exploration of BDSM could possibly be duplicated with someone else. Maybe their intense interaction had been more a result of their shared experience of BDSM, rather than a true love connection. Maybe he’d meet the real man of his dreams that very night. Someone who wasn’t just a player fulfilling the terms of a fucking bet.

  After Amelia had come home, showered and dressed and gone out again, Luca texted for an Uber and went outside to wait. He’d dressed in black jeans and a new black knit shirt he’d bought earlier that day. He had also bought a small gear bag, which was now slung over his shoulder, his few toys nestled inside. When his ride pulled up, he climbed in and gave the address of the club.

  The place was located in an old brownstone on Boylston Street. He paid a rather hefty cover charge and then entered the main room. It was set up similarly to the scene stations at the club Reese and he had gone to, and Luca found himself mentally discussing its similarities and differences with Reese. He shook his head, shaking away the thoughts. He was there to experience something new.

  He watched a scene for a while near the back of the place. A naked man was tethered to a wall rack, his body spread in cruciform, his face to the rack. Another man was using a cane, whipping it against the man’s mottled, welted ass and thighs again and again, as the bound man moaned and cried out in apparent agony. Luca turned away, trying not to compare this cold, rather brutal scene with the powerful, loving exchange he’d experienced with Reese during their first foray with the cane. He hadn’t been faking those responses, had he? Even Reese couldn’t have been that good an actor.

  “Hi, I’m slave Jake. Are you a Dom, Sir? Have you any interest in whipping me, Sir? I do so need a good flogging. I’ve been a very, very naughty boy.”

  Luca looked at the man. He was young—early twenties—with white-blond hair to his shoulders and an angelic, almost feminine face. He was slight of build and wearing only a codpiece over his cock and balls, his chest and feet bare. He held up a large, multi-tressed flogger, quite a bit bigger than the flogger Luca had bought for Reese. It had been dyed a deep eggplant purple and had thick leather tails, the tips knotted.

  Luca was intrigued with the impact toy, which looked very intense. Those knotted tips would leave marks, for sure. His cock stirred with interest. He had to admit, in spite of himself, he was attracted to this guy. “My flogger’s beautiful, isn’t it? I made it myself. I sell them on Etsy.”

  “Wow,” Luca replied, impressed. “I’d like to try it out.”

  The sub licked his lips and said eagerly, “Try it out on my butt, please, Sir. I can take a lot. Everything you’ve got.” He pivoted slowly, showing Luca his small, muscular ass. Even in the dim lighting, Luca could see the myriad marks and bruises from recent whippings. He recoiled a little, not sure it was wise to flog someone already so marked.

  “Looks like you’ve already taken a lot tonight,” he ventured.

  “No, Sir,” Jake said staunchly. “I mark easily, is all. Those are old marks. Please, Sir. The flogger won’t break the skin, no matter how hard you swing it. I have a nice spot right over there waiting just for you, Sir.” He pointed to a whipping post in the far corner of the room. Then he moved closer, placing his hand over the bulge in Luca’s jeans. “I promise to thank you properly, Sir.” He licked his lips suggestively.

  Luca took a step back, heat washing over his face. Then he got ahold of himself. He was the Master here. This slave boy was asking for a flogging, and that was exactly why he’d come to the club in the first place, wasn’t it? To find out if the power of the experience was inextricably bound to his connection with Reese, or was it something he could explore on his own, with a guy who had no hidden agenda and wasn’t fulfilling the terms of some fucking bet.

  Stop it, he ordered himself. Forget about him.

  He held out his hand for the flogger. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  They walked to the scene station. Jake leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the whipping post, thrusting out his ass in clear invitation.

  Luca took up a position behind him, heart beating fast. This Jake guy assumed he knew what he was doing. It had been different with Reese. Reese had made it so easy. You can do it, Luca told himself. Don’t think about it. Just do it.

  He brought back his arm and flicked his wrist forward, letting the heavy, knotted leather brush over Jake’s ass.

  Jake wriggled, twisting back to say, “Harder, please. I don’t need a warmup. I need a beating.”

  “Face forward,” Luca snapped, surprising himself with his sharp tone. The truth was, he didn’t want to see Jake’s face. Jake wasn’t the man he should be flogging. But he’d agreed to do the scene, and he’d go through with it. He struck Jake again, putting some muscle into it. The leather snapped hard, the knots leaving a dozen tiny red marks on Jake’s already mottled skin.

  “Yesss,” Jake breathed. “More, please, Sir.”

  Luca struck him again, harder than before, the heavy tresses covering both cheeks as they landed. In spite of himself, Luca felt the surge of raw, dominant power move through him, heating his blood and stiffening his cock. He shifted his angle, snaking the flogger over the backs of Jake’s thighs and letting the knotted tips curl around his narrow hips.

  He settled into a hard, steady beat, losing himself in a hypnotic rhythm—the swish and strike of leather followed by breathy cries of pleasure and pain. When he finally lowered his arm, Jake stood slowly and turned toward him, his eyes shining, his rosebud mouth open in a small O.


  He dropped to his knees in front of Luca. “Thank you sooo much. I needed that so fucking bad.” He glanced furtively around. “Fucking bouncers will throw us out if they see me sucking you off, but I can give you a quick hand job.” He reached for Luca’s fly.

  Luca took a step back. “No,” he said abruptly. “No. That’s okay.” The ripe, sour smell of sweat and sex hung heavy and fetid in the air. What the hell had he been thinking, scening like this with a total stranger? Suddenly, he was desperate to get out of there. “Look. I’m s-s-sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

  He placed the flogger on the mat beside the kneeling man. Then, shouldering his gear bag, Luca rushed from the space and out into the night.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning, Luca’s cell phone chimed with the sound of an incoming email, pulling him out of a light, troubled sleep. Before his brain had entirely clicked on, his first thought was Reese. But then he remembered he’d blocked Reese from making phone calls or sending emails and texts.

  He grabbed the phone and looked at the screen, expecting it to be from Robert or one of the guys at the office. He didn’t recognize the email address—Julio.Garcia0797—and would have deleted it as spam, but the subject line caught his eye. “From a concerned friend of Reese Armstrong.”

  Was this another trick by that fucking pair? Or was it a genuine email? In spite of himself, Luca’s heart surged with longing. Against his better judgment, he clicked on the link.

  Dear Mr. Hartman,

  I am taking the liberty of writing to you because a very good man I know named Reese Armstrong is hurting very much because of what has happened between you.

  Allow me to introduce myself. I used to be in the employ of Mr. Hank Seeley. Though the money was very, very good, I quit yesterday because I can no longer tolerate Mr. Hank’s bad and destructive behavior. I know this is not my business, but my abuelita always told me that good deeds are like seeds we scatter. Sometimes they grow, sometimes they don’t—but we have to try.

  Mr. Reese and Mr. Hank have known each other for a long time. I have only known them for a year or so, but during that time, I have observed much. Mr. Hank is from a wealthy family and he is used to having his way in all things. In the time I have known them, I have watched Mr. Reese pulling away. I have had to listen to Mr. Hank’s angry shouts when Mr. Reese does not do as he wants.

  Though I am quiet and stay out of his way, I hear things. And I was there when Mr. Reese told Mr. Hank he would not go through with their bet involving you. He refused to record the two of you together and he did not accept any money from Mr. Hank. Mr. Hank was very angry after Mr. Reese left. When Mr. Reese returned to the house last Wednesday, they had a bigger fight, and Mr. Reese told Mr. Hank that he was sorry to hurt him, but he had found a good man, a wonderful man, and he wanted only to be with that man. He was talking about you, Mr. Hartman.

  Mr. Hank found your contact information. He has connections and knows how to do this. He left the information open on his computer, and this is how I got your email. I know Mr. Hank did something terrible involving you earlier this week because Mr. Reese came to the house, very upset, looking for Mr. Hank, who was not there. He came inside, tears on his face, and confided in me of his pain. He told me about the bet the two of them had made before he got to know you, and his terrible shame at his behavior. But what I think you need to hear, Mr. Hartman, is that Mr. Reese did not go through with that bet. He said you had changed him, and he no longer wanted to be the man he was with Mr. Hank. He told me you were the best thing that ever happened to him. That you were a wonderful man and he wanted to tell you about the terrible thing he had considered doing, but had not done, but he was afraid. He didn’t want to lose you. He wanted to be a good man in your eyes—a man you could love, as he loves you.

  I am only twenty-two, but I have been on my own since I was sixteen. I believe I know love when I see it, and Mr. Reese is in love with you. Mr. Reese did spend a lot of time with Mr. Hank before he met you, but I never saw love between them. Frankly, I do not believe Mr. Hank is capable of that emotion.

  These are my seeds for you, Mr. Hartman. I hope you will water them and let them grow in your heart.

  Respectfully, Julio Garcia

  Luca read the message three more times, his heart warring with his mind. He wanted to believe this random email from someone he’d never heard of, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to fully trust what he was seeing. He thought back to Hank Seeley’s visit to his apartment. He’d said a lot of things, implying that Reese had recorded their private moments and given the proof to Hank in order to collect on their dirty bet, but maybe what Julio was saying was true. Reese had set out to do those hateful things, but he hadn’t gone through with them.

  But if that were true, why hadn’t he confessed to Luca about what he’d done? Why hadn’t he told him about the bet? How could Luca ever trust him going forward?

  He was distracted from his musings by the sound of Amelia’s front door opening as she called out, “Luca? You home?”

  “Yeah,” he called out, his voice hoarse from disuse. He cleared his throat. “I’m back in the guest bedroom.”

  A moment later, she popped her head in. “You missed a great time at Jane’s last night. Chloe had to be up at the crack of dawn to take her nephews to Marblehead, so she kicked me out.” She ran her hands through her shiny hair with a rueful grin. “I’m in desperate need of a shower and a strong cup of coffee, and then let’s go out to breakfast at the Greek diner you used to love with the grilled corn muffins drenched in butter.”

  “Okay, yeah. Sure,” Luca managed, barely listening to what she was saying.

  Amelia peered at him with concern. “What is it, sweetie? What’s going on with you? You look wrecked.” She looked at the phone in his hand. “Is that bastard who sent you running up to Boston giving you a hard time? Hand me that phone. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” She came into the room, holding out her hand, a determined look on her face.

  Luca stared down at the email, still open on the screen. “It’s a long story,” he said, his voice catching. He let Amelia take the phone from his hand.

  She read the email, her eyes widening as they scrolled down the screen. When she was done, she set down the phone and took both of Luca’s hands in hers. “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

  ~*~

  Reese’s cell phone rang early that Saturday morning. Somehow, he’d made it through work to the end of the week, though he’d been on autopilot, barely aware of what he was doing or saying. He’d been both nervous and eager to see Luca at work, but, when he hadn’t come in by noon, he’d asked Robert if he knew Luca’s schedule, and Robert had told him Luca was taking a few much-deserved vacation days.

  “Is everything all right between you two?” he asked, smoothing his mustache.

  “Uh, sure,” Reese had lied, not wanting to bring his personal life into the office, or compromise Luca in any way.

  He’d spent his spare time composing lengthy, heartfelt emails to Luca, and hitting delete again and again. Luca didn’t want to hear from him. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  But Hank was still calling. When Reese had blocked his cell, he’d simply called him from a different number, tricking Reese twice into answering. But not this time. “Leave me the fuck alone,” he said aloud. He glanced at the screen, mildly curious if he’d recognize the number Hank was calling from this time.

  Luca’s name and photo appeared on the screen, and Reese’s heart stopped for a second as he stared at it. Recovering himself in time, he grabbed up the phone and accepted the call. “Hello?” he said breathlessly. “Luca?”

  “Hi, Reese,” an unfamiliar female voice said. “This is Amelia, Luca’s friend. He’s told me everything. I don’t know you from Adam, but I do know Luca, and I know love when I see it, even if it’s misplaced. I think I’ve talked some sense into his very hard head, and he’s agreed that he needs to see you face-to-face.”

>   “What? Oh, my god. Really? Oh, gosh. I can’t thank you enough. I’ve been out of my mind with worry and regret.” Reese leaped up from the couch, knocking his half-full coffee cup to the ground in the process but not giving a damn. “Where is he? I’ll be right there.”

  “Hold your horses, buddy. He’s up here in Boston with me. He’s pretty shaken up, Reese. I don’t know if you know much about his past, but his family never accepted him and he had a rough time up here with a player who broke his heart. That’s when he picked up and moved across the country. Then he fell for you, and you turn out to be full of shit, too. And Luca is just the sweetest guy in the world. I don’t know why he keeps falling for the bad boys.” She grunted but then continued, “I don’t know whether you deserve another chance or not, frankly. But that email from Julio-whoever-he-is really got to Luca, and he’s rethinking a lot of things.”

  “Julio?” Reese asked, confused.

  “Luca can tell you about it when you see him.”

  “Can I talk to him?” Reese’s heart was pounding. “Please?”

  “He’s actually in the shower at the moment. He doesn’t know I’m calling you. I’ve got him booked on a United flight into Denver International with a local arrival time of two twenty this afternoon. I suggest you be at the terminal, waiting, proverbial hat in hand. Gotta go. Bye.”

  Reese stared at the phone for a long moment in stunned silence. What had Julio done? Was Hank behind it? Who was Amelia?

  Who cared about any of that? Luca was coming home! I know love when I see it. Hope cut through him, thin and sharp as a knife blade. He knew he shouldn’t get too excited, but he couldn’t help it. He let out a loud whoop and danced around the room like a lunatic. Then he got a dishrag and mopped up the spilled coffee.