SE Jakes Bound By Honor (12 page)

shedding his own coat and shirt. And then he pul ed handcuffs out of his pocket and clicked a cuff onto his wrist, the other

to Tanner’s.

“Why’d you real y kick me out?” Tanner asked final y.

“You scare the shit out of me.” Partial truth, which was hard enough.

Tanner didn’t do anything for a long moment, and then he grinned and lifted their wrists. “These wil keep you from

being afraid?”

“They’l keep me from doing anything stupid.” Damon walked into the loft and of course, Tanner had no choice but to

fol ow. He walked right into the bedroom and tugged Tanner down onto the soft, warm bed, and they lay side by side, so

Damon could assess just how bad the damage was.

He knew there would be fal out from Tanner’s first time. Just hadn’t known he’d create half of it himself. And although

he was stil not sure he could do this, he had to make it better. Somehow. And so he covered Tanner with his own body

and a blanket over them both to get him warm, and felt Tanner’s body begin to melt against his.

He wanted to flip the man on his stomach and massage his back but the handcuff felt right around his wrist and so he

settled for rubbing Tanner’s lower back and shoulder and neck with his free hand. Tanner complied, letting Damon’s

hands smooth out the rough edges, accepting the apology of touch.

He wondered whether or not he was simply getting rusty from not being a practicing Dom or if Tanner was throwing

him off his game.

He decided it was a bit of both. “I need to make sure you’re okay with what happened,” he said final y.

“I handcuffed myself, didn’t I?” Tanner turned his head to stare at Damon, his eyes ful of the memory.

“It was intense.”

“Fuck, it was hot.” Tanner paused. “How did you know…about what I’d like…about me?”

“I like knowing what turns you on.”

“Is that part of the control thing?” Tanner asked without judgment and it caught Damon off guard.

Was it? Damon had wanted—fought—for control for so long that it was a part of him. It was who he was.

He’d been a part of the club scene since he was fourteen, fucking in back al eys and back rooms when he was

supposed to remain in the kitchen washing glasses or mopping floors, because Greg wanted to keep him out of the main

rooms.

Greg, the man who’d taken him in and kept him safe during a time when nothing was—or should’ve been—safe.

But even so, Damon had a wild streak a mile long that wouldn’t be contained, and once he discovered that he liked

being in control, that older men liked to let him take it, there was real y no stopping him.

He’d bottomed a few times, just to see what it felt like, and knew instantly it wasn’t for him. He liked being the one

giving the pleasure…realized early on that the man on the bottom held the control and the top just had the il usion.

That il usion made things so much damned hotter for Damon. Especial y because most didn’t realize the control they

were wielding while Damon fucked them into the mattress.

“It’s a part of the control thing,” he told Tanner final y.

Tanner furrowed his brow a little and Damon could see the fierce warrior behind the handsome face, the determined

soldier who would see things through til the end. “Do you ever get to lose control? I mean, I know what you said, that the

bottom controls the show, but stil …I lost control—I don’t care what you say. When does that get to happen for you?”

“You worry too much about my needs, especial y for someone who has no interest in being a sub.”

“I didn’t know you had to be a sub to give a shit.”

Tanner pushed out of the bed and Damon braced for him to leave, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. The short chain of the cuffs

strained between their wrists and Tanner stared at it, took a few deep breaths. Damon watched the hard muscles of his

back move with the exertion, noted the new tension in his muscles.

“You don’t need to be a sub to give a shit,” Damon admitted, watched a bit of the tension drop from Tanner’s

shoulders.

“What the hel are we doing here like this?” Tanner wondered out loud. “It was supposed to be one night.”

And it had morphed into something far more, nearly beyond Damon’s own control. From the look of it, it was beyond

Tanner’s as wel .

Damon talked him into sleeping for a while. God knew Tanner needed it and from the haunted look in Damon’s eyes,

so did he.

It was one of the main reasons he’d gotten into Damon’s truck without more of a fight. Although he knew the Dom was

highly trained, Tanner had age on his side, could’ve easily gotten out of that situation and walked himself home.

But dammit, Damon looked half-shattered, almost frantic, and no, that couldn’t have al been from worrying about

Tanner walking home in a storm.

Now, he opened his eyes and watched the man beside him sleep. Their wrists, bound together stil , were stretched

over their heads, each man lying on his arm, their fingertips touching and it was so close to being so fucking romantic

and so fucked up at the same time.

He resisted the urge to stroke Damon’s face, the light stubble on his cheeks giving him a wild, untamed look, more so

than he normal y held. He could see this man, bel y down in the jungle, hunting, giving orders.

Fuck, it made him hot.

And then, he saw Damon jerk in his sleep, and he began to mumble—the beginnings of a bad dream that would

continue if Tanner didn’t stop it.

“No…just get the hel off me,” Damon mumbled, and Tanner knew that wasn’t meant for him. But the big man was

getting restless, agitated…and there was something more going o n here. Damon didn’t seem the type t o have

nightmares because there were attacks outside his club, no matter how bad they were.

Maybe it tied in to LC. Whatever it was, Tanner wanted to stop Damon’s pain the way the man had with him earlier.

And so he slid down as far as he could without yanking on the cuffs, suckled Damon’s nipple into a hard nub as he

stroked his semi-erect cock, making it rock hard in his palm.

Slowly, Damon came out of the nightmare. Tanner felt Damon’s free hand tighten in his hair, heard Damon breathe,

“Yeah, that’s it,” and Tanner stroked faster. He latched on to Damon’s other nipple, sucked hard, scraped it with his

teeth and felt Damon jerk and release between them, the sticky wetness on his hand making him smile in the dark.

After Damon came, he and Tanner fel back to sleep until Tanner woke him.

“I’ve g o t t o piss,” Tanner mumbled, a nd yes, s o d i d Damon, b ut that could wait. H e wa s sti l sticky from Tanner’s

impromptu hand-job, although the boy didn’t mention the dream he’d woken him up from.

Damon unhooked the cuffs from both of them and put them on the night table. Tanner stretched, headed to Damon’s

big black and white bathroom and relieved himself. Then Damon heard his steam shower g o on. Damon didn’t join him,

although he wanted to. He did, however, watch him through the clear glass shower door, gazed as Tanner soaped his

body and stood under the spray, his cock jutting into the air.

Tanner knew he was watching—had to—because he grabbed his cock and began to stroke, his head thrown back,

his mouth pul ed in a grin of obvious pleasure. Damon fought the urge to walk in and press his face to the glass, and he

moved to stand in the doorway instead, unable to look away.

God, the boy was beautiful—tanned, strong, sure as hel of himself most of the time. What happened last night was the

first step in making him that way al the time.

Except what was he supposed to do about the nightmares? If Tanner continued sleeping next to him, eventual y, he

would see a ful -blown one.

Eventual y, he would ask about them.

After Tanner came with a loud groan, spil ing al over the floor of the shower, he leaned forward against the tile, the

water sluicing down his back as he recovered.

“So fucking hot,” Damon muttered under his breath, waited until Tanner finished and came out of the shower, rubbing

his hair with a towel, his heavy cock and bal s on display. “Nice show.”

“Glad you enjoyed it.”

“You’l pay for that later.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” he shot back.

“Get into the damned bed,” he growled and Tanner didn’t argue, crawled under the comforter and let Damon cuff his

wrist to the heavy brass hook that flipped out from the headboard.

“Worried I’l leave?”

“Maybe I just like the way you look in handcuffs.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to check on LC.”

Tanner looked at his arm sleepily and then turned back into the pil ow. “I’l be here,” he murmured, letting the warm

shower and the orgasm take him back to sleep.

“Damned straight you wil be.” Damon gave him one last look and almost jumped back into bed with him. But the boy

needed rest—al parts of him—before Damon took him again.

His thoughts were confirmed by the ringing of the front doorbel . Who would be out in this crap, he wondered as he

went downstairs to find a broad, tow-headed man in a black coat and pants standing there.

He should wear a sign that said detective, and indeed, the first thing he did was flash his badge when Damon looked

at him through the glass top half of the door.

Damon unlocked the heavy steel door and let the man in.

The detective, who introduced himself as Paulo McMannus brushed the icy rain off his coat as he walked into the

club.

Damon hadn’t been expecting him—neither had LC, from the look on his face when he padded into the main part of

the club that his loft attached to, damp from the shower and looking like hel .

Paulo sure didn’t seem to think so, judging by the way he looked him up and down, and Damon wondered if he should

growl protectively or let Paulo have free rein.

“Rough night?” Paulo asked LC as he moved a couple of steps closer to the grumpy man.

LC just shrugged, glanced first at Paulo and then at Damon. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was hoping you’d use my number first,” Paulo said, and LC remained stoic, but a muscle in his jaw twitched, and as

horrible as the situation was that had brought Paulo here in the first place, Damon was enjoying watching his friend being

courted.

It had been a long time since LC had al owed it, even in this minor form. Normal y, by now he would’ve told the guy to

fuck off in no uncertain terms and continue saving himself for the ghost of a man who might never return.

“I just fucking woke up,” LC said roughly, running his hands through his hair and shifting somewhat nervously. “Don’t

you sleep?”

“Not real y. I spent some time outside last night, before the storm came in, looking for any evidence,”

Paulo explained. “ I didn’t find anything. I checked the databases t o see i f a ny crimes o f this sort ha d been

reported throughout the state and came up empty.”

“Busy boy,” LC said irritably and Paulo didn’t miss a beat.

“After the storm’s over, I’d like to go over the al eys a little more thoroughly. Talk with your staff,”

Paulo continued.

“The club’s closed Monday anyway,” Damon said as LC muttered something about coffee.

“If w e need i t closed fo r longer, we’l le t yo u know. Right now, I need t he names o f a l your employees s o I’ l have

background information when I talk with them.”

“I’l get it,” LC said, stalked away into the office and slammed the door behind him.

Paulo gave a twisted half grin as he looked after him. “I guess he doesn’t like to be asked out.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Does that mean I should stop trying?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

LC came back out of the office, mug of coffee in hand, looking as pissed as before. He shoved the papers into

Paulo’s hand and went to brush by him.

“Hey, how about breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Ever?”

LC muttered a curse, glared at Damon and then Paulo. “Not a good time.”

“It’s probably the best time,” Damon pointed out.

“We’re in a state of emergency.”

“I’m the police—I can get through. The diner around the corner’s open,” Paulo said, and LC looked like he was ready

to argue. Instead, he turned around and went upstairs and came down a few minutes later, as Paulo was going over the

list of employees with Damon. He had his coat in hand, boots on.

“Let’s go.”

“And he likes to give orders,” Paulo said as he tucked the sheet inside his coat pocket. “I’m on this, Damon. I’m

taking it very seriously.”

“Good, because I am too.” He ignored LC’s final glare as he and Paulo disappeared into the icy rain and headed

back upstairs. He put a lasagna L C had ordered into the oven, and he sat a t the kitchen table a nd thought until h e

heard Tanner stirring from the bedroom.

He went in and unhooked the boy, who smiled sleepily as he stumbled to the bathroom. He came out to the kitchen a

few minutes later, fol owing the smel of the food, sat at the table and Damon served him a heaping portion of the pasta,

with bread and salad and some wine.

Tanner eagerly dug in, as did Damon. He hadn’t eaten al morning, his stomach in knots, but something about

watching this boy…this man—in front of him, so thoroughly enjoying his food made him want to eat.

And do other things too, but hey, he had to let Tanner keep his strength up. And when both men were sated, they

shared the comfortable silence and listened to the wind continue to howl outside, effectively stranding Tanner here until