If It Fornicates (A Market Garden Tale) Page 12

  Frank tapped the pen he’d been making notes with on the table. “What’s up? Need help? Is it about university?”

  “No. That’s all going well. I’m . . . I’m good with the workload and the times. It’s just, my head’s not in it. Both heads, I guess.”

  Frank grinned wryly.

  “And uh. I have a boyfriend.”

  “Do you?” Frank’s eyes widened a little. “I had no idea.”

  “It’s a fairly new development,” Nick said quietly.

  “He got issues with your job?”

  “He’s a former client. He knows what I do, and it doesn’t bother him.” Except he doesn’t like what the job is doing to me lately. “It’s just—to be perfectly honest and blunt about it, I don’t really give a fuck about the clients. I’m slipping, sloppy, I’m just not myself anymore. Any arsehole can do what I can do at the moment. I’m maybe losing my touch.”

  “Or somebody else is keeping it for you,” Frank commented. “Your touch, I mean.”

  “Or that.” Nick stared at the table surface. “This is awkward.”

  Frank remained silent for a while. “Take time off, Nick. You’ve worked hard, you got a lot going on. Hell, enjoy your boyfriend. You’re not a machine.”

  Any other night, Nick would have had some smart-arse comment at the ready. Right now, all he could think was that he’d been fine—well, better than he was tonight, anyway—before he took time off. Before he’d focused completely on Spencer for a few days without either of their jobs distracting them. If he took more time off, he’d gravitate towards the man whose tormented, pleading texts had come in sporadically all day long. Off with the clothes, off with the chastity device, and he could have hot, sweaty, kinky sex with someone who actually held his attention.

  That thought jolted Nick like an electric shock. He didn’t think of anyone else when he fucked Spencer. He didn’t think about his job. Whatever they were doing at any given time, that was it. Unlike when he was with the paying submissives he met here. Then his mind kept wandering back into Spencer’s bedroom.

  “Nick.”

  Nick looked at Frank.

  His boss gestured at the front door with his pen. “Go. I don’t want to see your face here tomorrow night, either.”

  Nick’s heart skipped. “Are you firing—”

  “No, of course not.” Frank laughed. “You practically pay for this place. Just get out of here, recharge, and come back later this week.”

  “What about paying for my place?” Nick asked. Okay, so he had money stashed away, but he didn’t like the idea of a dip in his income.

  Frank pulled out his wallet. As Nick watched, disbelieving, the man pulled a few bills free and slid them across the table. “Three hundred. Not quite what you make in a night, but it’ll soften the blow.”

  Nick regarded the money warily. “You’re paying me to—”

  “Yes. I’m paying my top earner to go home, get his shit together, and come back so he can earn that money this weekend. When it really counts.”

  Chewing his lip, Nick hesitated. Then he took the cash off the table and slid it into his pocket. “All right. Thanks. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  Frank responded with a mock salute, but didn’t say anything.

  On the way out, Nick checked his texts again. No new ones had come through, and the last one was over an hour old. No way Spencer was lying awake waiting for a reply. Though he might’ve been lying awake wondering why he’d ever agreed to this cock-and-ball torture.

  Stomach winding itself into knots, Nick slid his phone into his pocket alongside the money Frank had given him. If Nick texted or called Spencer and asked if he wanted some company, the answer would most likely be an enthusiastic yes. Possibly an apologetic I have to be up early for work or Need to rest before I meet this idiot client tomorrow, but still most likely an affirmative.

  Much as he wanted to spend the evening with Spencer—they didn’t even have to fuck, just sleep in the same bed or even be in the same room—he didn’t make the call. He needed to sort this out on his own.

  On the other hand, maybe being close to Spencer was what he needed to sort this out. He could pretend it was under the guise of torturing him with more chastity play.

  The device is off now, he could tell him before they got into bed, but now you just have to go to sleep with me in bed next to you.

  Spencer would bite his lip, maybe even whimper with frustration, but he’d do what he was told. Then Nick would lie there beside him. All night. And Spencer would never know that Nick wasn’t just there to torment him. He was there because he needed him.

  Nick pulled out his phone again. Too late for company tonight? He hesitated, but finally sent the message.

  Phone in hand, he paced on the sidewalk, occasionally glancing at the cabs waiting along the curb for johns and prostitutes on their way out. He could grab one now. Tell the driver to wait a moment while he figured out where he was going. But, no, Nick waited.

  His phone buzzed, and he almost dropped it in his hurry to pull it up and read the message.

  I have to be up at the crack of dawn for a meeting.

  Nick’s heart dropped into his feet. He struggled to come up with a duly snarky response, the kind of message Spencer would be expecting.

  Then the phone buzzed again.

  But you’re still welcome to come over. Just can’t stay up too much later.

  Relief washed over Nick. He quickly thumbed back, I’ll be there ASAP.

  He slipped into one of the cabs, waved a fifty at the cabbie, and gave him Spencer’s address.

  When they arrived, lights were on in Spencer’s hallway. He dropped the fifty with the driver and nearly jumped out of the car and ran up to Spencer’s door. A ring, ten seconds that felt longer, and the door opened, Spencer wearing a bathrobe and slippers. He looked very awake, and Nick exhaled some of the tension he’d been holding.

  “Come on in.” Spencer let him inside, then closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Thanks.” Nick pulled him down for a quick kiss—which drew out longer than expected. “How’s the package?” He cupped the steel cage through the bathrobe.

  “Pretty secure.” Spencer grimaced half-comically. “As intended.”

  “Yes.” Nick looked Spencer over, feeling acutely how hungry he was for that sight. The smile, the way Spencer dropped his gaze when he stared at him, the fact that Spencer was still awake or had got up again. He didn’t want to look at anybody else like that. Didn’t, in all honesty, care one bit for anybody else’s submission but Spencer’s. “Lucky I have the keys.” He patted his pocket.

  Spencer looked hopeful. “As you wish.”

  But Spencer clearly wished, too. And damn, so did Nick. It wasn’t just the mehs, or tiredness, or burnout. Those weren’t selective—they applied to everything and everybody. But they didn’t apply to Spencer. Spencer could have been the only sub on the planet, pretty much the only man on the planet, and wouldn’t have had a stronger effect on Nick.

  “Tell me,” Nick said. “How was your day?”

  “I found it hard to concentrate. Felt like you were holding me all day.” Spencer blew out a breath. “Which meant I was trying to not get hard all day, just because I couldn’t, and because you said I can’t. Somehow . . .” Spencer frowned. “I tried to be good.”

  Nick smiled and slipped an arm around Spencer’s waist. “You were. Not that you had much of a choice.”

  “But I would have,” Spencer said. “Been good, I mean. Even without . . .” He gestured below the soft knot in his bathrobe’s belt, something that didn’t seem capable of hiding a steel cock cage.

  “I know you would have.” Nick touched Spencer’s face and pushed himself up on the balls of his feet. Spencer obediently dipped his head, giving Nick perfect access to his lips. Just before Nick took advantage of that, he whispered, “That’s why you’re an amazing sub.” Then he kissed Spencer, and as Spencer wrapped his arms around him, plush terryc
loth pressing against thin leather, Nick felt one muscle after another relax. Tension that had been knotting and pulling all over his neck and back eased, Spencer’s embrace having the same effect as one of his skilled massages.

  Nick drew back enough to look Spencer in the eyes. “You have an early morning tomorrow. We should . . .” He tilted his head in the direction of Spencer’s bedroom.

  “Good idea.”

  They separated. The absence of Spencer’s body and his robe left a conspicuous layer of coolness over Nick’s skin and clothes. Almost enough to warrant a shiver as he followed Spencer down the hall.

  The house was silent except for the quiet padding of Spencer’s slippers and the harsh, sharp tap of Nick’s boot heels on the hard floor. His footsteps quieted, though they were still heavier than Spencer’s, as they moved from hardwood to carpeting. Nick closed the bedroom door, and a few more muscles relaxed in his shoulders.

  Spencer tilted his head. “You okay?”

  Nick rolled his stiff shoulders. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just . . . tired.”

  “Rough day at the office?” A playful but cautious grin tugged at one corner of Spencer’s mouth.

  Nick laughed. “Something like that.” He stepped a little closer to Spencer and reached into his pocket for the set of tiny keys. “Take off the robe, and I’ll take off everything else.”

  Spencer released a relieved sigh and quickly undid the belt. He shrugged off the robe and draped it over a bedpost.

  Nick turned the keys over and over between his fingers. Spencer had worn the thing all day. He could wear it a moment longer while Nick just took in the sight of him, his gorgeous body and that metal symbol of enforced obedience. Overkill for someone like Spencer. A punishment for Nick’s sadistic glee more than actual discipline; Spencer had known immediately that he’d misstepped, and he’d apologized right away.

  “So you’ve learned from wearing this, yes?” Nick asked anyway, grinning at Spencer.

  Spencer nodded vigorously. “No coming without permission.”

  “Good. I think it can come off, then.” He reached out and took the cage, lifting it to get at the lock. He didn’t rush this part, just enjoyed for a moment how much tension was in Spencer’s belly and thighs. He put the key into the lock, turned it, and pulled apart the ring that held everything together. Spencer exhaled in clear relief. His cock, once freed of the weight and, more importantly, everything that it meant, thickened and lengthened immediately.

  “Now, that didn’t take long,” Nick observed.

  Spencer looked apologetic, or tried his best to. “I was thinking of you all day.”

  “I see.” Nick gently trailed his fingers along Spencer’s cock where the metal had rested all day. “Early start for you tomorrow. Get in bed. No touching.”

  Spencer slipped under the covers, and demonstratively kept his hands on top of the duvet. Nick took his time stripping, though he did it in full view, knowing that Spencer was eating him up.

  Again it struck him. He didn’t care if he impressed anybody else that way. The one guy whose mind he wanted to blow—whose mind was important to be blown—was right there in bed and trying not to look impatient. Now that he was off the clock for a few more days—again—that was exactly the problem. Timing. Time didn’t seem to matter with Spencer. And he had no clue how long this might last. He just didn’t get tired of Spencer. Weeks. Months. Years. He couldn’t put a name on this, not quite yet, couldn’t project himself into a future that had no real shape beyond his studies, and how long his savings would last. Too many unknown factors.

  He slipped into bed, and Spencer switched off the light. The bed was body-warm, and Spencer next to him was a solid, strong presence who seemed to be holding his breath. Nick reached for his face, tilted Spencer’s head his way and kissed him deeply, invading his mouth with his tongue, and before long they were both panting. Even in the dark, it was impossible to pretend this was anybody but Spencer. Just imagining he was anybody else pushed something cold and heavy in the pit of his stomach.

  He was so fucked.

  He’d think in the morning. The only thing he could focus on now—hell, ever—was Spencer, so he let himself be consumed by Spencer’s presence. He pressed his body against Spencer, then moved on top of him.

  Spencer broke the kiss with a gasp as Nick’s hard-on brushed his. “I thought . . . I thought . . .”

  “I want you.” The words slipped past Nick’s lips before he could think twice. And they were true. Simple, true, profound; he wanted Spencer and no one else. Pressing against Spencer, he whispered again, “I want you,” and kissed him.

  Spencer hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around Nick, and as he did, Nick swore every bit of tension in his own body—even the tension that kept him in one piece—gave way. Collapsed. He slid his hands under Spencer’s shoulders and held on, kissing him deeper, harder. They didn’t grind together like they usually did. The kiss was feverish and hungry, but not demanding from either side. Nick couldn’t get enough, but wasn’t sure he could handle any more.

  He broke the kiss to catch his breath.

  Spencer ran gentle, unsteady fingers through Nick’s hair. “Nick . . .”

  Nick brushed his lips across Spencer’s. In his mind, he heard himself repeating what he’d said before—I want you—or murmuring a command. Get a condom. Get on your knees. Suck my cock. Let me fuck you.

  But just like before, the words came before he could think.

  “I love you.”

  They both stilled. Nick had barely whispered, but the words seemed to echo in the silence of the room to the backbeat of his pounding heart.

  Spencer’s fingers drifted down the side of Nick’s face. “I love you, too.” He said it like it was so easy. So simple.

  Nick couldn’t breathe. He was afraid to speak, because God knew what would come out this time. Some other deep, foundation-rattling truth he hadn’t yet had a chance to get his head around. Or maybe he’d just break down. Fall apart. Shatter.

  So he did the only thing he could trust himself to do, and kissed Spencer again. He felt all raw inside, thrown off his game after saying those words. It had seemed right to admit it, and now that he had, it was like he’d known all along that he felt that way. Still, his heart pounded. Those words meant he couldn’t just walk away.

  As if walking away worked so well when you tried it last time, mate.

  The illusion of safety was gone, not unlike when he made a sub strip. It was a clear shift, and he didn’t like it, and at the same time, it had all grown too big to fit its old skin.

  Whatever shape this was going to take, it had shifted somehow.

  Spencer was trying to be obedient, trying not to push or rub against him while they kissed, exactly as ordered, but there was no sleeping with that huge erection, either. And while it might be fun to keep Spencer wanting, he also wanted to reward him. To say, Thank you for not leaving me hanging on my words, for responding naturally and easily to the declaration with one of his own that Nick had no reason to doubt.

  He reached down between them and took Spencer’s cock, deliberately not using lube or spit to smooth his grip (now, that would have been sentimental), and began jerking him off, swallowing his groans with kisses. He was gratified that Spencer held onto him for dear life but made no move to take control. Spencer merely pushed into Nick’s hand and kissed back, all obedient strength, well-trained and hence rewarded.

  “Come, Spencer,” he whispered, and when Spencer did, Nick kissed him deeply again.

  Getting himself off was easy. He pushed Spencer over and spooned up to him, using some of the slick semen and Spencer’s thighs. It wasn’t elaborate, nor artful, but it got the job done and it kept him in control. Any other way, he’d just not have been able to cope with the shift between them. He rested his face against Spencer’s neck, his breath likely tickling Spencer’s skin, but at last, he found something not unlike peace.

  That was, until he woke with a pounding heart at what his
phone told him was four in the morning. And as much as he tried, he couldn’t fall asleep again. He turned a couple times, then noticed that Spencer was shifting beside him. He stilled and waited, then decided he could just as well get up.

  He snuck out of bed, gathered what he hoped were most of his clothes by the light from his phone screen, then left the bedroom and pulled the door shut behind him. He cleaned up in the guest bathroom and got dressed. The house was dark and quiet around him, but the tiredness wouldn’t come back.

  I love you.

  That was the thing, wasn’t it? He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to gather even one clear thought from the muddle in his head.

  The light in the hallway went on, and Nick looked up, not surprised to see Spencer in his bathrobe come into the kitchen. “You were gone,” Spencer said, matter-of-factly. Not a guilt trip, no passive-aggressiveness, just that.

  Nick shrugged. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

  Spencer nodded. “What’s on your mind? If you care to tell me.”

  I care. That’s the problem.

  “Trying to work out what it all means. You know, for the future.”

  “Which part of the future?” Spencer sat down opposite and offered his hand on the table between them.

  Nick took it with both hands and squeezed it. Remembered squeezing Spencer’s hand while they’d been fucking. Grabbing him rather than the chain.

  Spencer ran his thumb along the side of Nick’s hand. “I’m sure we can . . . well, at least share some thoughts here.”

  Nick shrugged. “I love you. It’s changing quite a bit in my head. In my life. I’m not . . . into doing this with other people anymore. And it’s not because I think you disapprove. I’m just not . . . hell, I could still fuck them, but this, what we’re doing. It’s so . . .” Beautiful. Pristine. Pure. Best thing I’ve ever had.

  Spencer squeezed his hands and smiled at him. So much heartbreaking fucking tenderness in that expression, it clogged up Nick’s throat. And Spencer didn’t interrupt him, just listened.

  “You know. It’s just so.” Squeezing all those meanings into one tiny word.