SE Jakes Bound By Honor (13 page)

further notice.

He wondered what would happen when LC got back, how pissed he’d be at Damon for pushing him toward Paulo.

But that’s what family did, and LC was more his family than any blood relation.

“Where’s your family?” Damon asked Tanner then.

Tanner shrugged. “They’re around. In Manhattan.”

“Do they know?”

“That I like to fuck men? Hel no.”

“It’s not easy living a lie.”

“I’m not. I’m just not tel ing them a truth they can’t handle.” Tanner took a bite of his steak. “Trust me—I wouldn’t

expose a girlfriend or a boyfriend to them. It’s like a viper pit.”

Damon stared a t the ma n across from hi m a nd no , Tanner wa s to o proud t o hide. H e wa s forced t o remain

quiet because of his job, but Damon always considered that a smart move for any man or woman in the workplace. There

was no room for thinking about relationships when in battle. Al that crap got in the way—made you weak.

The thought that he’d clouded Jesse’s reaction times weighed on him heavily.

“Where’d you go?” Tanner asked when he came out of his reverie.

Damon didn’t answer and the men ate in silence for a few minutes. And then he asked Tanner, “When did you know?”

“That I liked to fuck guys? Sometime in high school. I final y snuck out one night and went to a club downtown. It wasn’t

even close to being memorable. It was a blowjob in the back room, a fuck against the wal .”

“And you knew.”

Tanner nodded his agreement.

“And you picked the most homophobic institution to enter,” Damon continued.

“Like you did.”

“True.”

“Look, I grew up rich. Real y rich. Army was the family tradition. I’m supposed to serve, get out and go into the family

business.”

“Which is?”

“Investments. Boring a s hel .” Tanner drained his wine, the red staining hi s lips. Damon fought the urge t o yank him

forward and lick them.

“Wil you do it?”

“No. But they don’t know that.” Tanner pushed some food around on his plate. “I want to stay in. I could make a career

of the Army. At least that’s how I feel now.”

He met Damon’s gaze. “It bothers you when I say shit like that. When I talk about the Army.”

“Yes.”

Tanner snorted at the one-word answer and Damon wondered how and why this boy managed to push al his buttons

at the same time. He was angry and his cock was hard. “Snort at me again and you’l find yourself bent over the table.”

Tanner’s eyes flashed something…lust, maybe? And then he asked, “Is that a promise?”

Damon slammed the table to the side so he could get to his prey, enjoying the stunned look on Tanner’s face. Had

him up and turned facedown on the table before he could get his bearings. Heard the hitch in the boy’s voice as he

yanked down the sweats he’d put on him after he showered earlier.

“You like to push boundaries. See how far people let you go,” he murmured as he slid a finger along the head of

Tanner’s cock. “It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days…and today is one of those days.”

“Jesus, Damon…”

“No begging. None. Or else you do not get what you want.”

Tanner drew in a harsh breath but ultimately, he nodded his consent. Stil half stunned by Damon throwing him over the

table, and very, very naked, he knew he was at Damon’s wil . And judging by how his cock dripped precome, he was

loving it, even if he’d be loath to admit it.

Damon’s hand stroked his ass. “I’d love to tie you down and paddle you for this. But I think I know what would be more

effective.”

Tanner whimpered but he didn’t say a word.

“It’s time I pushed you,” Damon told him, and knew Tanner wouldn’t be able to help himself.

“You already did that,” he muttered under his breath.

“Not enough, sweet boy.”

“You gonna keep cal ing me that?”

“Yeah. And you’re going to cal yourself that too.”

Another snort, despite his position, but that stopped when Damon reached down a nd spread Tanner’s legs t o p ut a

leather cock ring on him and Tanner had no fucking clue where the man had gotten it, because it certainly hadn’t been on

the table when they’d been eating. But he didn’t have time to think because Damon didn’t stop there. Tanner felt the cold

lube and Damon’s finger rub his hole and then it was two fingers inside of him. Damon pushed and twisted and Tanner

let the pleasure zing through him.

When Damon’s fingers left him, they were replaced by something bigger. Knobbed. And vibrating.

“Oh, fuck.”

Damon chuckled. “Yeah, that too. Now, tel me—say, ‘I’m your sweet boy, Damon, and you can spread me any way

you want me’.”

Tanner didn’t say a word and Damon increased the speed on the dildo, letting it hit Tanner’s prostate, but the cock

ring wouldn’t al ow his orgasm. Tanner grasped the sides of the table and groaned.

“So easy…you can come as soon as you say what you’ve wanted to.”

And Tanner realized just how easy that could real y be. His body wanted it—and the words spil ed out of his mouth

faster than he could stop himself, because he felt so goddamned safe here that nothing else mattered.

“I’m your sweet boy, Damon,” Tanner gasped. “You can…spread me. Any way you want me. Any fucking way.”

And he meant every word of it.

Damon unhooked the cock ring and Tanner came hard, cursing while Damon held him so he wouldn’t fal off the table.

“Lesson learned,” he mumbled.

“We’re so not done.” Damon took the dildo out, half lifted Tanner and moved him to the bedroom.

Tanner didn’t argue anymore, just lay splayed on his back, waiting.

And then Tanner said, “Come fuck me, Damon,” and that was al the incentive Damon needed.

First, h e held Tanner’s hands above hi s head b y hi s wrists a s h e kissed t he b o y along hi s shoulders a nd chest,

alternately biting and licking the marks he made as he went.

Tanner writhed under each sting o f pleasure, each lick o f pain. Damon pul ed back t o stare a t Tanner under him,

his chest dappled with red marks and a thin sheen of sweat, breath coming quick, lips swol en from the earlier kissing

and sucking.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Mmmm,” Tanner mumbled as Damon’s fingers found his hole, breached the tight ring of muscle and entered.

“You’re stil so tight…impossibly tight and hot,” Damon murmured, and Damon added another finger and then another,

watching Tanner move to fuck himself on them.

And when Damon used a knuckle to brush the spot that made Tanner jump, the man did just that, again and again.

But Tanner had made a promise not to beg and so far, he was sticking to it, despite the fact he was ready to come.

“Good…such a sweet boy,” Damon crooned over him as his hand worked, Tanner’s body rocking against his hand.

“Sweet boy wants to come, right?”

Tanner nodded, his face set in lines of deep concentration—trying not to give in to the total pleasure.

“Turn over,” Damon murmured, and Tanner did, hating the loss of contact of Damon’s fingers. But he was quickly fil ed

by Damon’s cock pushing deep inside of him.

The punch of pain would always be there—that was part of the process. But the brush of the cock on his prostate

made up for every damned thing. He hadn’t known what he’d been missing.

What he’d needed.

“Come then, because I love watching you come.”

Tanner didn’t need to be told again, his cock erupting, pouring over Damon’s hand, his chest, hitting Tanner’s cheek.

He cried out Damon’s name, and then he closed his eyes as his body trembled, the way it did every time Damon

mastered him in some way.

It was gray and cold and pretty damned deserted on the streets because al the smart people were staying inside.

Which LC told Paulo, who just scoffed as he pul ed the truck into the twenty-four-hour diner.

He fol owed the detective inside, wondering how to end al this personal-connection shit. Then again, he didn’t want to

spend the meal talking about the damned case.

He cursed Damon a mil ion times in his mind and would do so to his friend’s face when he got back to the club.

“What’s LC short for?” Paulo asked after they’d settled into the booth, menus in front of them.

“My name,” LC said, without taking his eyes from the menu.

Paulo snorted. “And everyone thinks Damon’s the asshole.”

“I definitely do,” he muttered and that effectively shut down the conversation for the next few minutes.

But Paulo was a cop. Used to interrogation. Fortunately, LC had been taught to evade and escape such things.

“You’re Irish and Italian. Your parents must’ve had a good fight about your name, huh?” he asked in a direct parody of

Paulo’s question.

Paulo just stared at him with those ice-blue eyes. “Something like that.”

“Cops don’t like questions.”

“Not just cops. Anyone who’s trying to hide something,” Paulo said, his tone mild, like he was enjoying the spar…

especial y because he knew he was winning, each o f his statements zinging into L C a s surely a s i f h e ha d a

target painted on his forehead.

He hated being this transparent. Usual y, nobody gave a shit beyond letting themselves be fucked.

Why did he have to find the one freakin’ man who wanted more?

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked with an exaggerated exasperation.

“Act like I’m holding you hostage a little more,” Paulo said. “Although, maybe that’s what you’re into.”

A sudden flash of Paulo holding him down, handcuffing him, fucking him, ran through LC’s mind and his cock

hardened in his jeans. He shifted and Paulo grinned like he knew and LC couldn’t hate him any more than he did at that

moment.

The waitress saved him from having to comment further.

“I didn’t think you were into the scene,” Paulo commented after they’d placed their order and the waitress, who looked

exhausted herself, poured their coffee. It was some high-octane shit, and LC asked for a Coke instead. And he could’ve

been a dick and asked what scene, but he was suddenly too tired to be that much of a dick. Until the caffeine kicked in,

at least.

“Not real y. Not like Damon.”

“You’ve never, ah…”

“What? Been tied up like a hostage? Tied someone up and used my nightstick? Yeah, been there, bought the farm,”

he said and yep, dick-mode was back one hundred percent.

The eggs and pancakes came then, and LC just stared at Paulo.

“Must’ve been one hel of a breakup,” Paulo commented as he soaked his pancakes with syrup, and it was LC’s turn

to snort. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel nearly as sick as he should after al the alcohol. The water and aspirin Damon made

him take before he went to bed must’ve helped, as did the orange juice and Gatorade Damon had left on his bedside.

Throwing up a couple of times to get al the poison out had worked as wel .

Now, faced with food, his stomach actual y rumbled, loud enough for Paulo to hear. Paulo, who was blonder than he

was, a little shorter and built like a brick shithouse.

He dug into his eggs, ate for a few minutes before tel ing Paulo, “It was a long time ago.”

“And you’re stil hanging on to it.”

“Ah, fuck you.”

“I’m hoping.” Paulo sat back and appraised LC frankly. “I like you. I’ve watched you in the club for a while, but you

never hang around long enough for me to talk to you. I don’t like the circumstances that changed that, but I can’t say I’m

unhappy with the results. So let me help you forget.”

“That never works.”

“Then no one’s doing you right.”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice-enough guy—”

“No. And if that’s what you think—or want—you’re shit out of luck, okay?”

“I’m not good for anyone right now,” LC started.

“Yeah, see, that kind of line wil only make the boys fal harder for you, trying to prove you wrong.”

“Are you one of those boys?”

“I happen to be, yes. And I’l try as hard as I need to, because the thought of having you in one of those rooms…that’s

part of my nightly jack-off fantasy.” Paulo had the nerve not to blush and LC felt his cheeks heat. Dammit. “You’re getting

shy with me now?”

Would Paulo tel him the fantasy if he didn’t tel him to stop? Did LC real y want to hear it?

Paulo’s voice lowered a little, making the decision for LC. “You’re wearing those jeans—the soft, dark ones with the

black T-shirt and those black motorcycle boots that jangle when you walk. And you find me at the bar and you don’t even

ask—you just take me, right into one of the back rooms and then your dick’s in my mouth, my ass…anywhere you want it.

And then, when you come, and you’re lying there, I turn the tables on you. Tie you down. Watch you struggle, because

you realize what I’m going to do to you.”

He heard himself draw in a low, stuttered breath and wondered if anyone would notice if he jacked off here, because

now he had a new fantasy, one that didn’t involve the al -consuming man from his past.

He chugged the Coke and wil ed his cock to go down.

“Why don’t you come home with me for a little while,” Paulo suggested. “I’l make sure you get back to Crave safe and

sound.”

That would be better. There was no way he was letting Paulo into the loft. No one stayed over—he did his fucking

away from home, because he slept with too many ghosts already. “No promises.”

“On what?” Paulo asked as he put down some bil s on the table, refusing LC’s offer of money.

“On anything at al .”

Paulo lived on the third floor of a three-story private house—his apartment spanned the entire floor and was wel