Brick and Mortar (Student Bodies #4) (8 page)

Turner woke alone. Sitting up in bed, he saw no sign of Cannon or Daisy, but could smell bacon. Lying back down, he ran a hand over his chest and into his pants. His cock was hard and heavy against his abdomen. Sliding his hand from root to tip, he stopped. What was he thinking? His brat was downstairs making him breakfast, he didn’t need to jack off in his pants. He had Cannon.

He sighed, Cannon, his loudmouthed and obnoxious boy who couldn’t get enough of him. Even during the best of times, Bryce had never been as enthusiastic a lover as Cannon. Maybe it was time to stop lying to himself about his relationship with Bryce.  Practically mirror opposites, Turner had tried so hard to make their relationship work. He hadn’t been willing to admit it at the time, but he had no business proposing to Bryce, who in truth hadn’t seemed all that excited about planning a wedding.
Not as excited as Cannon would be…

Where had that come from? True, Cannon got excited over everything, good grades, wedding cake and spending time with him. He had no doubt the brat would be excited to plan his own wedding, but Turner wouldn’t be his groom.  Cannon was a temporary sub he was providing guidance to for the time being. He’d already let him get too close to his battered heart. He needed to stop this before things went too far.

His heart pinching uncomfortably in his chest, he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

Cannon was flipping bacon in the frying pan when he heard Turner moving around upstairs. Daisy had startled him awake at 6:00 AM with her cold nose against his hand. Turner had been spooning him from behind and as much as he wanted to stay cocooned in his lover’s arms, Daisy’s needs came first.

Once she’d gone out and did her business in the backyard, Cannon fed her and got started on breakfast. Hearing Turner start down the stairs, he turned to the dog. “Sounds like Daddy’s up, Daisy. Go get him. Go get Daddy.”

She woofed and ran toward the stairs.

Grabbing the bowl of pancake batter, he gave it a few strokes before turning on the heat under the cast iron skillet.

“Morning, brat.” Turner pressed a minty kiss to the back of Cannon’s neck.

“Good morning, sir. How did you sleep?”

“Fine, until I woke up alone,” Turner pouted.

Cannon laughed and looked over his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to Turner’s grumpy face. “The baby needed to go out and I didn’t want to wake you. I also didn’t want to leave you.” Cannon winked and turned back to the batter, pouring out dollops onto the hot surface of the pan.

“Do you want some coffee?” Turner moved toward the coffee pot and grabbed a bag of fresh beans from the cabinet.

“Please. It helps my…”
Fuck.
After spending such a special night with Turner, he didn’t want to have this conversation now. He didn’t want to have it ever.

“Your ADHD?” Turner asked gently.

Cannon nodded sharply and flipped the pancakes.

“It’s okay to admit it, Cannon. It doesn’t make you weak to admit who you are.”

“Who I am is a hyper screwball who can’t sit still or concentrate half the time.” He hated this, hated admitting his problem.

“Are you on meds?” Turner pressed the button to start the coffee and grabbed two mugs.

“When I was a kid, but I hated the way they made me feel like I was a zombie. It felt like I was living in slow motion, not to mention it limited my ability to draw.”

“That’s great, your mom let you make your own decision about taking the meds.”

“She didn’t know. I weaned myself off them and scoured the internet for ways to help mimic the effects of the meds. It took months of searching but I found the ways that worked best for me and coffee is one of them. So are energy drinks, but I try to stay away from those unless I’ve got a big exam.”

Turner pulled Cannon into his arms. “Thank you for telling me about this. I can see you struggle from time to time to sit still or pay attention in class and I always just figured you were bored or had other more important things you wanted to be doing.”

“Nothing is more important than my education, unless you count my wanting to get out and stay out of Texas.”

“Too hot or too ignorant there for you?”

Cannon laughed. “Both.” He slid two pancakes onto Turner’s plate and loaded it up with bacon. He did the same for himself and brought both plates to the table.

“You don’t have to serve me, you know. We’re not in the bedroom.”

Sliding into his seat at the breakfast table, Cannon grabbed a napkin. “I know, but it’s nice taking care of you. It’s like we’re a couple.” He loved the domestic feel of this morning. Waking up together and now sharing a meal. He could get used to this. This is the kind of life he wanted for himself. A life he wanted to live with Turner.

Turner’s stomach churned at Cannon’s words. He’d managed to keep his uneasiness over the domestic feel of the morning under wraps until Cannon mentioned a relationship. “I didn’t ask you to take care of me.” His voice was colder than he’d intended, but this thing between them was only meant to be a way to help Cannon embrace his submission. It wasn’t supposed to turn into a relationship. The sooner Cannon understood that, the better.

Cannon looked up sharply at Turner’s cold words. “I-I don’t understand. All I did was make breakfast.” Daisy whined and moved to stand next to Cannon.

“What you did,
boy
, was make yourself at home in my house without permission. You can’t just come into someone’s home and take over.” Turner’s heart was fluttering like hummingbird wings and he couldn’t catch his breath. Cannon looked confused and lost and it was all his doing.

Cannon slid from his seat and started pacing around the kitchen. “What the hell is wrong with you? We made plans to have breakfast and take Daisy to the park. I didn’t know I had to ask permission to use your fucking stove.”

“Well there he is, the obnoxious big-mouthed Cannon. Welcome back, boy. I was wondering when you’d let your true colors show, instead of this submissive act you’ve been putting on for me.”

Cannon stopped pacing to stand with his mouth gaping open. “Act? “ Cannon practically screeched. “You think this is all an act? Last night was the best night of my life, getting to serve you and being paddled. It was a dream come true.”

Leaving Cannon’s side, Daisy whined and put her large head on Turner’s lap for a few seconds. As crazy as it sounded the dog’s soulful eyes seemed to be pleading with him to stop the fight.

“Look,” Cannon said, his eyes scanning the kitchen for his wallet and his keys. “Obviously there’s something wrong here that you’re not telling me about. I’ll just see you around.”

The situation was spiraling out of control faster than he could handle with the bottom line being Cannon was leaving him. “Go on and get the fuck out. You’re just like Bryce, fucking pretending to want me and pretending to be submissive. Now you’re leaving just like he did.”

That did it. Cannon was a lot of things, but none of what Turner was accusing him of being. “Pretending?” Cannon thundered. “You think I’m pretending to want you? You think my liking the gag and coming from being paddled was all a fucking game to me?”

“Yes, I do.” Turner’s words were like being hit with a bucket of ice.

“What the hell’s wrong with you? I’m here because I love you, damn it! All I want to do is be close to you and hope that someday you’ll feel the same way about me. And now you think I’m some dick like your ex who used you and dumped you?”

“Bryce didn’t dump me! He fucking left me!” Turner screamed.

“What?” Cannon didn’t understand the difference.

“You want to go, just fucking go.” Turner stood from the table, turning his back on Cannon. “This was over between us the moment you broke my rule.”

“What rule did I break?” Cannon didn’t understand any of this. Who was this Turner Maxwell and what happened to the man who took such good care of him last night?

“You lied to me. You lied about everything!” Turner screamed, his voice cracking.

Dashing tears from his eyes, Cannon paused and looked at Turner. His chest was heaving, his hands balled into fists while unshed tears glittered in his eyes. For a man who prided himself on always being in control, he was a mess. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you and if you can’t see that in me, then you’re the one who’s lying.” His shoulders slumped, the fight passing out of him. Not knowing what else to do, Cannon grabbed his wallet and keys and headed for the door.

Whining, Daisy ran after Cannon, howling when he shut the door behind him.

Numb to even the frigid February wind, Cannon walked on. He had no idea how long he’d been wandering the streets of Amherst. He dug into the pocket of his parka for his phone. His hands were so frozen it took three tries before he could key in the passcode.

His first thought had been to call Turner, but after what happened over breakfast he didn’t think the professor would even take his call. He pressed the button for Phillip and listened to the phone ring.

“Hey, man,” Phillip’s cheery voice answered. “You finally got my message.”

“What message?”

“I left a message about coming over to study this afternoon. Daddy’s making ribs and baked potatoes. The others are already here.”

Cannon could hear the sounds of his friends laughing over something and opened his mouth to talk but all that came out was a squeak.

“Cannon? What’s wrong?”

“Turner doesn’t want me,” he managed before bursting into tears.

“Where are you? We’ll come get you.”

Looking around he saw crossed street signs. “Near Market and Pine Streets,” Cannon sobbed.

“Stay put, don’t move. We’ll be right there.”

Reaching out a trembling hand, Turner rang Brock Stone’s doorbell. It had been five hours since his epic meltdown over breakfast. He must have paced ten miles through the empty rooms of his house during that time.

He’d never heard of a dog giving its owner the silent treatment, but that’s what Daisy had been doing since Cannon left. He’d found the dog sitting in front of the bay window overlooking the street, not wanting to budge from the spot, presumably waiting for Cannon to come home.

Pulling open the front door dressed in sweats and a tee, Brock grinned. “Hey, Turner. Come on in.”

“Sorry I didn’t call but I…” Turner sniffled and dashed the back of his gloved hand against his wet eyes.

Taking a closer look at Turner’s tear-stained face, he led his friend into the kitchen. “Take off your coat and tell me what’s going on.”

Turner did what Brock asked, slipping off his gloves, hat and jacket before stacking them on an empty chair at the kitchen table. “It’s Cannon.”

“Is he all right?”

“If he isn’t, it’s my fault.” Turner’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“You’re not making any sense.”Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table he pushed Turner’s shoulder until he sat and went to the fridge to get him a bottle of water.  Brock took the chair opposite him. “Tell me what this is all about.”

Turner twisted off the cap of the bottle and took a long sip, the cold water burning his dry throat. “Cannon took a page out of your book and offered me a temporary sub contract.”

Brock frowned. “There’s no such thing as temporary submissive contract.”

Turner huffed a rough laugh. “I know. Cannon’s so new to submission that he didn’t know it. He wrote a document using your original agreement with Ryder as a guide, promising to serve me faithfully and listing things he’d like to try with me.”

“And you agreed to give him a test drive?” Brock raised a dubious blond eyebrow.

Turner winced. He’d never thought of it that way. “Cannon was looking to explore his submission. I-I’d just been alone for so long and the tension and chemistry with him was too much to deny. It was like dynamite going off, red-hot and explosive.”

Brock nodded. “That’s what Ryder predicted would happen if you two ever got together. So what happened after the explosion?”

“I sent him to sleep in the guest room, but the dog wouldn’t settle so I told him to get into bed with me.” He shook his head, sending more tears cascading down his face.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brock took a deep breath. “I’m totally confused now. What dog and why the hell would you make your sub sleep in the spare room?”

Turner had been so wrapped up in Daisy and Cannon, he hadn’t told any of his friends about the new addition to his family. “You’ve been telling me for over a year that I needed companionship, so I went to the animal shelter and guess who works there? Cannon fucking Sommers. He’s supposedly famous for finding the right dog for the right owner and I fell in love with his Rottweiler, Daisy, so I adopted her. The brat cried when he realized she was the right dog for me.”

“He seems like the type of boy to volunteer at a shelter,” Brock said thoughtfully. “Why do you say the dog was his? She was a shelter dog, right?”

Turner nodded. “He was so totally in love with her and would have adopted her if the dorms allowed pets. I saw a different side of him with the animals. He was kind and sweet and not bratty or rude. So I agreed to his damn contract.”

Raising an eyebrow, Brock coughed to hide a laugh. “Okay, then what happened?”

Blushing, Turner stood from the table and started pacing around the kitchen. “Brat gave me the best damn head of my life.”

Brock snorted before laughing outright.

“True story,” Turner said, turning back to his friend. “Then we had a paddling session and the boy came from the paddle alone.”

“Are you serious? I’ve read about that happening, but I’ve never seen it.”

“Neither had I. So I cuddled him for a while and sent him off to bed in the spare room.” It sounded like lunacy when he said it out loud. What Dom in his right mind would send a loyal sub to sleep alone in another room?

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Brock exploded, slamming a fist down on the table. “He’s new to all of this, Turner, and you sent him to bed alone after an intense session?”

The stunned look on Brock’s face said it all. It had been a colossally stupid move. “I didn’t want him getting any closer than he already was.” But he had. Cannon had wormed his way right in to Turner’s heart. Fresh tears gathered in his eyes and started to fall. He’d been given a second chance at love and had thrown it away.

Brock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So then the dog wouldn’t settle and you told Cannon to come to bed with you.”

“Daisy roaming between our bedrooms was just an excuse. I wanted Cannon with me. I wanted to feel him fall asleep in my arms.” He knew the exact moment when Cannon drifted off to sleep. It had been a magical moment for him to fall asleep with his boy wrapped in his arms.

“But then in the morning, you pushed him away again?”

Turner nodded. “He made breakfast and said he enjoyed taking care of me, that it felt like we were in a relationship and I just lost my mind. I got scared and I accused him of being a fake like Bryce.”

It was Brock’s turn to wince. “That boy is nothing like Bryce. We all tried to tell you Bryce wasn’t the right one for you and you wouldn’t listen.”

“I was sick of being alone!” Turner thundered, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Sitting back in his seat at the table he sank his head into his hands. “Sorry, I’m just so confused. You’re right, he’s nothing like Bryce, but I accused him of being fake and using me, and when he turned to go, I accused him of leaving me.”

“Turned to go? Turner, the boy doesn’t have a car and its five degrees out. Where did he go?” Alarmed, Brock stood and reached across the granite island for his phone.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t KNOW? He’s your submissive, your responsibility! You can’t agree to take him on and then abandon him.” Unlocking his phone, Brock dialed Ryder. “In these conditions, frostbite can set in within thirty minutes.”

Feeling his phone vibrate, Ryder got up from the table and moved from the dining room filled with his friends into Chris Daniels’ office to take the call from his husband. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi yourself. Is Cannon with you at Chris’ house?”

Ryder could hear the fear in his husband’s voice. “Yeah and he’s a total mess. I’m guessing Turner is with you?”

“He’s a total mess too. Is Cannon safe?”

“He is, but it was a near thing, Brock. He was suffering superficial frostbite on his hands, ears and face. He was out walking the streets with no hat and no gloves. I’ve got it under control now, but if I see Turner, I’m gonna punch his fucking lights out. He turned on Cannon like a rabid dog.”

“So I hear. Good job taking care of him Nurse Stone. I need you to bring him home with you, now.”

“Hold on a minute. You said Turner is at home with you, right?”

“He is and we’re all gonna talk about this like men when you two get here. No punching my best friend, boy, you hear me? If anyone’s gonna punch him, it’s going to be me.”

“Yes, Master.”