Joy and Pain

Joy & Pain Celia Kyle Published: 2011

Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Copyright, Celia Kyle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author. Summerhouse Publishing http://summerhousepublishing.com Email [email protected] Cover Artist Celia Kyle This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

Dance is a song of the body. Either of joy or pain. ~Martha Graham

I’m down to my g-string, hips slinking from left to right, hands stroking my chest, tugging at my nipples and I’m letting my eyelids half close. My attention’s on the guys at the edge of the stage and I slip my right hand beneath the hem of the spandex, pretending that I love what I’m doing, that it’s getting me off. My cock is soft. But I still pretend. Pretend that the men yelling my name are the hottest things on the block, that they do it for me. The music drowns out any sound I make, but still I moan and breathe fast, trying to get into the dance. God, the dance. I love it and hate it at the same time. It’s good to be moving, interpreting the music, trying to find beauty in each note. It’s hard to do when dollar bills are littering the shined stage. I lean against the pole, metal cool against my back, and arch and pump my hips, hump the air, close my eyes and bite my lower lip. The guys are going wild, hooting, telling me to come, shoot my load and prove how good-looking they are. They’re idiots. Idiots who give me money to fake an orgasm, but idiots none the less.

This song ends on a crescendo, a few final beats and then I freeze, back curved, muscles in my neck strained, mouth open on a shout and the pervs go wild. I relax, raise my head, eyes heavy-lidded and a small smile on my lips. I’ve practiced this pose, the self-satisfied smirk of a man who’s come while they didn’t. Slipping my hand free of my g-string, I grab my camouflage pants and make a show of wiping my hand, men yelling, asking if they can have a small taste. Creepy. A small wink at the loudest of ‘em and I exit, stage right, ass wiggling. The bouncer will collect the take. I always slip him a quarter of my tips, just for handling that part for me. I don’t like getting close to the audience and the guys seem to eat it up. My distance, the aloof Army twink. Down a few dimly-lit hallways and the main dressing room is to my right. I slip in, find it empty. Not too many guys working a Thursday night and I know Marcus goes up after me. I strip the poor excuse for underwear off and slip back into my jeans, legs of ‘em big enough so that I don’t even have to lose the boots. They hang low on my hips, tiniest bit of my pubes showing above the waist, but the customers like being able to see that bit of teasing. My favorite vest completes the extent of my dressing. It doesn’t provide much cover, but that’s not its purpose. The idiots in the front of the place like to have something to touch, play with, tug on when they want me a bit closer. It does that.

One last breath for courage and I’m heading down another hallway, giving myself a pep talk. I mean, it’s no different than meeting with the benefactors after a performance of Swan Lake, right? Wrong. Rich patrons aren’t staring at you like they’d like to bend you over the bar. Okay, some of them used to look at me like that, but they never said a word. These customers do. They offer money, a good time and, probably, disease. Yeah, thanks but no thanks. The main area of the club is dim and I still a moment while my eyes adjust, Marcus’ music already thumping as he gyrates on stage. Now, Marcus loves this life, the money, the attention. And, honestly, I’m happy for him, that this works. The customers don’t notice my reappearance yet, so I amble toward the bar and Luca, the bartender and owner, places a bottle of water on the smooth cherry surface at my approach. I slip onto a stool with a small smile and murmured thanks. “No problem.” He goes back to polishing glasses, moseying toward the other end of the counter and topping off some guy’s drink. He’s a big man, thick thighs, scary-as-shit bi’s. Guy could crush me, no problem. So, I’ll stay where I’m at and pretend he’s not there. I’m supposed to be sociable, but... Luca’s still talking to the guy so I swing around on the stool, back against the bar, sipping at my water and watching Marcus move. He’s not a “real” dancer. Then again, I’m not either. I shouldn’t judge.

He’s getting a good amount of attention. At least enough to keep ‘em away from me, so I’m a happy camper at the moment. “Tevin!” That’s the boss calling for me and I turn toward him, pulling my brows together when I see him waving me over. Fuck. He wants me to play nice with the big mother-fucker. I slink toward them. Slink. That’s right. The practiced roll of my hips that screams sex, pretty pout on my lips that’ll make him wonder what it’d be like to fuck my face. I won’t, but a strip club is about the tease, right? I ease onto the stool next to Luca’s new friend, making sure, I brush against him and he just looks at me, single brow raised. As if saying, “Excuse me?” I turn away from him and focus on my boss. “You beckoned?” “I’d like you to meet Zeke. Zeke, this is Tevin.” I hold out my hand for Zeke and he envelopes me with his bear paw. I remain passive, grip loose. I’m sex incarnate, submissive and just a play toy. At least, I pretend to be for customers. “Hello.” I purr. Honest to god. Again I get a single brow before Zeke releases me and turns that look on Luca. With a sigh, my boss growls at me. “Quit it, Tev. He’s not a customer. He’s a buddy from the Army.” Really?

So, I turn it off. The sexy invitations vanish and I’m just a twenty-two year old ex-ballet dancer again. Complete with horrible posture. My instructors always bitched about that. “You have the most beautiful extension on-stage and you slouch like a slob offstage.” This proclamation was typically followed by a cluck of their tongue. I put my elbow on the bar, prop my chin on my hand and turn to Zeke. “So, what brings you to our fair establishment? Other than naked boys.” I get a smile then, even a chuckle. Well, I can’t hear it, but his chest (big assed chest) shakes. “I’m just checking out Luca’s bar. I moved here a couple of weeks ago and he’s been asking me to come down, have a drink.” He pauses, gaze taking me in from head to toe. “Check things out.” And just like that, I don’t give a damn that he’s checking me out. His voice is deep, growly like the bear he is and I can just imagine what he’d look like naked. There’s a bellow from a customer and Luca disappears, leaving me with Mr. Army Guy. “So, how are you finding things in our little old town?” I brace my feet on the stool and lean over the bar, snag a little bowl of peanuts to nosh on. When I turn back to him, I find him looking at me. Not in the “we’re having a conversation” kind of way. Oh, no. It’s the “let’s find a flat surface” kind of way. He takes a swig of his beer, sets it down as he turns toward me and gives me a better look at how well built he is.

I thought his thighs were thick, bi’s are enormous, hands as big as dinner plates, but his shoulders are as wide as an axe handle. Swear to god. This dude doesn’t just have muscles, he is a muscle. “It’s nice. I live over by Crestview, small neighborhood, quiet. But at least I can still find some nightlife and entertainment.” And he’s not looking at me like he’s thinking this club is his idea of “nightlife and entertainment”. “Yeah, Crestview is a pretty gay-friendly community and we’ve got a lot of different events for us queer folks.” I wink at him and he smiles big, reaching all the way up to his bright blue eyes. Hot damn. Why’d I have to meet him here? “Good to know.” And I can’t figure out if he’s happy to know about the events or that I’m one of the queer folks. “Yeah, there’s a munch-” I stop myself, realizing I probably just told a vanilla guy about a kinky lunch. Okay, I’m into kink and Luca’s into kink, hence the knowledge of the munch, but who knows if Zeke is? “Really?” His eyes seem to light up a bit, like he knows exactly what he’d be getting into. So I nod and take a sip of water. “Yeah, there’s a little restaurant in your area. Gianni’s?” He nods and I continue. “We meet at twelve thirty. Patrick has reserved the

back dining room for us. Just tell him you’re with the Callan party. He runs the local club and sets these up once a month for his friends.” “You’ll be there?” And he sounds like he really wants me to say yes. So I do. I had planned on running some errands, but being with Zeke, this giant of a man, seemed like more fun. Okay, honestly, I just wanted to stare at him some more. “Yup, I’ll...” I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Angry yelling and glasses breaking come from my left and I look over to find Marcus on stage. Nude. Fuck, but we’re not a nude club. We all know that, but I know he needs money which is probably what prompted him to go bare. He’d get fired, but the extra cash on the stage would probably be worth it to him. I watch as some of the idiots climb on stage, others breaking furniture. The bouncers swim in and protect Marcus while they try to calm the crowd, but it isn’t going well. This business...well, it isn’t always just pretty boys and dollar bills. Zeke rose from his stool, big man seeming to grow to six feet in front of me, and leans toward me. “You’re too good for this, Tevin. Too good for all of it.” His eyes are sparking, glaring, trying to make me see just how much he hates that I’m working at the club. He’s right. I know it. Won’t stop me from showing up for my next shift, though.

Zeke gives my hand a gentle squeeze and then leaves me there, sitting on my stool, while he wades in, tugging men apart. He’s not violent, not looking to hurt people, just easing the tension and getting the idiots away from each other. The man’s a contrast. Angry and sweet, all within a second. His back’s turned, attention on the shouts and fists flying, so I hop from the stool, head toward the side door and to the sanctuary of the dressing room. It’s empty, Marcus’ stuff’s gone and I shake my head. There were a lot of things he could have done that wouldn’t have ended up with Luca’s place being destroyed by angry drunks. I grab my bag, slip the strap over my head and tromp to the back door, into the night. The darkness envelopes me and I let thoughts of the gentle giant, the man who could crush me without a thought, drift from my mind. I can’t afford not to.

Chapter Two

I’d never told Zeke that I lived near Crestview, too. That I’m within walking distance of Gianni’s. The trek is quick, a few blocks at most and I’m walking through the door, enveloped in a big hug by Luca. He’s my boss, sure. But that’s at the club. Here, in the outside world, he’s a friend and sometimes play-partner. “I hear you invited our friend.” I roll my eyes. “No, I invited your friend, dork.” He straightens, glaring at me. “That’s Master Dork to you, puppy.” He swats me on the ass. I squeak and shuffle ahead of him toward the back room. The dining room’s gotten enough of a show. I try to keep my composure as I navigate through the tables. I know Luca’s following close on my heels and he’s sure to tease me a little more when we get behind closed doors. My only hope is to hide behind someone bigger. Preferably, Zeke. That thought nearly brings me to a standstill. I fiddle with the knob on the door, pretending that my halt is due to trouble with the handle and not with the fact that I’m a little more than attracted to the man. And scared shitless. I finally manage to get the door open and Luca leans over me, grabs the edge and holds it open. A gentleman through and through. Unless he’s pulling my hair and making me beg.

But that’s not today. I slip in and step to the side. Just ‘cause I go in first doesn’t mean I want to be first. I wait for Luca and slip my hand into his. Except the thick calluses aren’t familiar and I glance up to see who I’m touching, only for my gaze to settle on Zeke’s smirk. I try to tug free, but he doesn’t let me. “Hey, Tevin.” Through the doorway I can see Luca hanging back, an equally cocky smirk in place. “Zeke?” He’s the one holding me captive. And I can’t figure out how I feel about that fact. He leans down, whispering in my ear. “I thought you could introduce me around, little one.” Hot. Damn. That’s so close to my hot button endearment that I shiver. “Um,” I swallow past the lump in my throat, will that zing of arousal to cool. “Yeah. Yeah, we can grab something from the buffet. Visit. Yeah. I can do that.” I’m rambling, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s just smiling ear to ear and moving deeper into the room, grip firm as he tugs me toward the buffet. I grab a plate and silverware. I mean, I’m not usually so eager to please, but there’s something about Zeke...his shifts from assertive to gentle and back again. He just makes me want to take care of him a little bit. “What would you like?” I’ve got the plate in hand, ready to serve, to dart for whatever he’s craving.

Instead, he tugs it from me. “Why don’t you find us a seat? I’ll get some food for us.” His voice is deep, soothing. “But-” “Go ahead, little man.” It’s a whispered order. Somehow he can sound sweet when he’s telling me what to do. And I should refuse because this is a munch. Not a play space and not the time to figure out who’s in charge. Of course, I listen anyway. Mostly because he’s calling me “little man” and it just gets to me. Makes me wonder if he has kinks similar to mine. I spy Luca toward the back of the room, talking with the owner of the restaurant, and his table’s pretty empty. Moving with purpose, I snag two chairs, nudging others closer together to give Zeke more room. Luca sees what I’m doing, what I’ve done, and simply gives me a nod before he returns to his conversation with the owner and part of me shines. I did a good job. Go me. Before I’m ready, Zeke is there, a single plate piled high, a little subbie I know named Karen trailing after him with two glasses of water. I rise to take the glasses, help them how I can, and he just orders me around. “Sit. We’re fine.” I do as he says, popping back into my chair, and wait for him to get settled. The subbie places the glasses on the table and then stands ready for a mere moment before

Zeke dismisses her. “Tell your Master that I appreciate your assistance and that you did a wonderful job.” Karen blushes under his praise before scurrying away and suddenly I’m the center of Zeke’s attention, face burning under his scrutiny. God, I stripped to almost nothing in front of the man yet sitting here, fully clothed, unnerves me. He leans toward me, as if what he’s about to say is a secret between us. “What would you like first?” I quirk a brow, noticing that there’s exactly one plate and one fork. “I think we’re missing a little something.” He winks at me. “Not a thing, Tev. Now, what would you like to snack on first?” Uneasy, I glance at the plate and my mouth waters at the idea of munching on a bit of fried calamari. But before I can ask, he’s dipping a piece in red sauce and bringing it to my lips, watching as I open my mouth and pull it free from the fork. “Good boy.” His voice is low, barely loud enough for me to hear, but my dick doesn’t have that trouble. I’m rock hard before he finishes the word “boy”, nearly whimpering with the sudden tightness in my jeans. Fuck. This continues. Zeke feeding me, giving me praise as I eat, exchanging information about each other. Zeke spent twenty years in the military, making him nearly twenty years older than me. Geez, I’m robbing the nursing home.

But it’s those eyes that make me not care about his age. The sea blue, the gentleness, the disapproval, the anger. It all travels through his eyes. It’s not long before the plate is empty and I realize I’ve eaten most of the food he’d brought, him barely taking a bite as we talked. “Oh, shit. I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” His hand on mine, a soft squeeze, stops me from rising completely. “Shh, it was all for you. Sit down. I ate plenty and the demonstration’s getting ready to start.” Right. The demo. But I can’t quit thinking about the fact that a man three times my size ate merely half of what I did. I squirm, wanting to scramble and fill a plate for him, serve him, make him happy. Only, I think it’s the “making him happy” aspect that’s pushing hardest. I want those smiles. He rests his arm on the back of my chair, easing down in his, spreading his legs and it looks like he’s getting comfortable. I fidget. Cause that’s what I do when there’s something I want to do and can’t. I pick at my nails, bounce my knee. Whatever I can do. Then a warm hand is on the back of my neck, thumb pressing just below my ear for a moment before it’s stroking the sensitive skin. Zeke. It’s soothing, having him touch me like this, just petting me in a way that’s not obvious to everyone. I’m not sprawled all over his lap, searching for his tonsils in a kiss that never ends. Oh, I’d like to do that. Just not in the middle of Gianni’s. Besides, there’re plenty of other people putting on that kind of show. The wiggle’s slow, but the tension remains. Humming.

Again, he leans close, like every word between us is a secret. “You need to relax, Tevin. You’ll learn that I mean what I say. Let’s get through the demonstration and maybe we can go somewhere. Talk. Huh?” Yeah. Talk. I can do that. Right. *** When the demo’s over and everyone’s back to eating and socializing, we duck out, Zeke holding my hand as he tugs me toward the front door, eventually the sidewalk. “Where are we headed, little one? It’s your city.” And there’s only one place I want him. “We could go to my place. It’s nearby and we could watch the game, order pizza...whatever.” Please, if there is a god, let him interpret that right. Because, really? I want him. I have no idea if his kinks are anywhere near mine, but even if I only get some cuddles out of our time, I’d be happy. He releases my hand, traces the line of my jaw with a finger and brushes my lower lip, teasing me, tempting me, making my dick go hard. “That sounds good, little one. Where’s your car?” “Oh. I live a couple blocks down. I walked.” His eyes narrow, disapproval written all over his face. True, the area isn’t the greatest, but it’s not bad. I mean, we are near Crestview, right? It’s just that even bad neighborhoods can be near good ones. “You walked?”

I nod. I’m not going to feel bad about this. At least, not a lot. “Well, I’m driving. Come on.” He laces his fingers with mine, pulling me toward the parking lot and a large, black SUV. I’m realizing he’s doing a lot of leading while I’m following. I’m also realizing that I don’t care all that much. I may, at some point, but right now it’s all good. A beep comes from the car, headlights flash once, and then Zeke’s holding the passenger door open for me while I crawl in. Within moments, he’s across from me, engine rumbling while he pulls out of the parking space and I give him directions to my apartment. Okay, now, I’m thinking going to my place might have been a bad idea. Again, the area isn’t bad, per se, but it’s got character. Which is a nice way of saying it’s sorta run down. Zeke’s frowning as he pulls into a space. “Tevin...” “It looks a lot better on the inside. Besides, it’s, like, a historic landmark or something.” Okay, that was a lie, but it’s got wood floors that I wax once a week and a large living room for me to practice in. I don’t really care that the walls are thin or that I can’t play my music very loud. Who didn’t like classical? Oh. Right. Mrs. Murphy downstairs. This time, I lead while we stomp up the stairs, me digging in my pocket as we approach the front door. I precede Zeke, snagging an errant shirt from the floor while I

lead him into the apartment, trying to remember if I even bothered to tidy my room, even a bit, before I left today. Zeke’s quiet while I kick off my shoes, pad through the apartment, him trailing behind until we get to the living room. It’s sparse, furniture pushed to the edges of the room. But it’s home. “Here,” I snag a pair of jeans from the couch. “Have a seat and I’ll get some drinks, yeah?” I head over to the coffee table, lift it off the floor and then he’s there, plucking the thing from my hands like it weighs nothing. “What are you doing?” He’s growly and that weird part of me that likes it gets turned on. I stand up, arms crossed over my chest. I can be just as growly and I’m not some porcelain doll. “I’m moving the table so you have somewhere to put your feet. And your drink.” “I can do that.” He turns and thumps it down on the ground before he’s facing me again, hands on his hips. “So can I. I do it all the time, damn it.” He narrows his eyes, glaring at me. “Is that necessary?” I pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. “What? Moving the table? Yes, I dance in the middle of the room and don’t usually have it in front of the couch. I thought I’d move it to make you more comfortable.” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I’m not really doing this right, am I?” The shift catches me off-guard and I drop my belligerent stance. “What?”

He waves a hand between us. “This.” Zeke runs a hand through his hair, ruffling the style, leaving bits standing straight and making me giggle. The tension eases in a moment and he’s half-glaring, half-smiling at me. “What are you laughing at, Tev.” I can’t hold back the smile, the bark of laughter. “Mister Domm-y man not knowing what to do.” With a growl, he’s after me, laughter in his eyes, and I’m racing to the bedroom. I want him there, but if it doesn’t go further than a tackle, at least I’ll fall on something soft. I’m ducking around furniture in the dining room, slithering down a hallway and tumbling into the bedroom, the big man on my heels, and he tackles me from behind, sending us flying onto the bed. But he’s bracing his weight, like he knows how big he is and doesn’t want to hurt me. Zeke’s laughing, whole body shaking with it. He rests his head on my shoulder, taking deep breaths. “You’ll keep me on my toes, won’t you?” I wiggle against him, against the flesh growing hard on top of me. “Maybe.” “Hmm...Definitely.” He eases to the side and I do the same until we’re facing each other. We’re on equal ground now, two men lounging on a rumpled bed. Eye to eye. “It’s not a line, but I feel like I know you. And it’s hard not to tackle you, make you mine.”

Zeke’s words floor me and turn me on at the same time. I’m having a very hard time figuring out which head to listen to. For now, it’s the big one. Damn it. “What makes you think I’d let you?” I’m not a pushover sub who runs into anyone’s arms. Regardless of how I’m acting with him. “Because you want to. Because every time I talked to Luca these past few years, he’s told me about you. About your dancing. Your injury, recovery and eventually, ending up at his club.” He reaches out, strokes his fingers along the length of my arm and twines his fingers with mine. I like it. Like touching without sex being the result. Affection. “I know how you play with him. About how you’d like to play with someone who can meet your needs.” My mouth goes dry. I don’t care that he knows about Luca. It’s not a secret I’d ever keep. He’s a good boss, but a better friend and no matter what, any other man would have to accept Luca’s presence in my life and what he represents. It’s the other part I have difficulty with. I lick my lips, suddenly unsure. “What do you mean?” My voice is barely a whisper. Zeke pulls my hand up, kisses the back of it with a gentle press of his lips. “You want a partner and a Daddy. Someone who’ll treat your right, but make you do things you think you don’t want to do. Who’ll take care of you, treasure you like you should be.”

Age play isn’t really popular in our local scene. Oh, Luca indulges me now and again, but it isn’t his kink and he’ll only go as far as calling me puppy. I decide to play it off. Like it isn’t a big deal that Luca’s been revealing my secrets. “You have been talking.” I try to play it off, smirk and wink. He doesn’t buy it. Zeke pulls me to him until my body is aligned with his, head resting on his shoulder. “Don’t belittle yourself, what you like.” He strokes my back, small circles, before he brings his hand to the back of my neck, thumb rubbing the spot beneath my ear once again. “I swear, I think I’ve already fallen in love with you even if I don’t know a damn thing about you.” I start, pushing on his chest so I can look in his eyes. Love is...deep. Too deep. “Shh... I’m not saying I am in love with you. Just that it’s very, very close based on all of the stories I’ve heard over the years.” I relax again, just listening to his deep voice. “About how your first scene went and that Luca nearly kicked the guy’s ass, then took care of you. And then the first time the two of you played. That you worked so hard just to rebuild your strength and still couldn’t get back on stage and then you ended up at his club. Your life for the past several years has been described in excruciating detail by that meddling man.” I snort. Meddling is right. I prop my chin on his chest, stealing a peek at Zeke. “Are you disappointed?” “Nope. You?”

“Not yet.” “Good.” He leans closer, kisses the tip of my nose. “How about we give it a shot, hmm? Are your limits still condoms, no fluids, nothing but bruises and no sharing?” Fuck, but he knows me. “Yeah.” “Okay.” This time, he brushes his lips across mine, a hint of a kiss, before he pulls away. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night from the club. We’ll have dinner.” I nod. My shift ends pretty early. It’d be a late dinner, but still dinner. I’m a little disappointed we don’t get skin to skin right now, but he’s doing it the right way. I hate it. But then he’s moving away from me, nudging me aside while he rolls from the bed, tromps toward the bedroom door. “Wha-” “I’ll see you tomorrow, little one. Come let me out.” Grumbling, I follow him, pouting the whole way. At the door, he calls me on it. “Quit it, Tev. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I may even watch you dance. You can give me a private show, okay?” Zeke leans down for another kiss and I rise up to meet him, anxious for a real taste. Our lips start out soft, learning, before he opens his mouth, tongue sneaking out for a taste and I return the favor. He’s earthy and dark and sweet at the same time. All musk and man as I slip my tongue into his mouth, explore and take whatever he’ll give me.

He wraps his arms around my waist, hoists me higher against him and deepens the kiss. I can’t not return the embrace, pull him closer and breathe him in. My cock’s hard, wanting, needy...but I’m focused on him, on dragging a deep moan from his chest, giving and taking whatever he’s got until he pulls away and, damn it, I whimper at the loss like the puppy Luca calls me. He rests his forehead against mine. We’re breathing each other’s air, panting. I can feel the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat against my chest and I smile knowing he’s as affected as I am. Then again, his hard cock could’ve told me that, too. “You are too much, little one.” I whimper, this time in need instead of begging. God, I want. The kiss, his body, those names. All of it just gets to me. Zeke eases me down his body, muscle after muscle meeting me. “Tomorrow, baby. Tomorrow.” With that, he’s out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click and I flip the deadbolt. Tomorrow.

Chapter Three

Tonight’s song has a deep bass line, throbbing in time with my heart. I keep scanning the crowd, but Zeke’s nowhere to be seen and I tamp down my disappointment. It wasn’t a promise, right? He didn’t say, “Tevin, I promise I’ll see you tomorrow.” Nope, he didn’t. The bouncer is a bit more vigilant after what happened with Marcus. An eye on me and a bigger one on the crowd, making sure they don’t get out of hand. Of course, last time, it was Marcus’ fault. It’s not long until I’m down to the G, dancing and feeling my way across the stage, giving the kiddies something good to see. It’s then that I spy Zeke sitting in one of the chairs in the back. He’s slumped down, legs extended and spread before him, hand resting on his hip and dangerously close to his fly. God. Damn. Tonight. Music’s thumping harder and I know the end is coming. I almost snort. Coming. Except, tonight my cock’s twitching at the idea that Zeke’s watching me. His entire focus is on me. That twitch turns half-hard and I’m actually enjoying pinching

my nipples, fingers sliding over sweat-soaked skin easing beneath the fabric, surrounding my cock. Fuck, it feels so good. Not just good, but fucking phenomenal. Because not only am I touching myself in front of strangers, but Zeke’s there, too. And I’m imagining it’s Zeke’s callused hand sliding along my shaft. Zeke growling the words to the song as he pleasures me, gives and takes with each thump of the speakers. I increase my speed, the pressure, with each note. Struggling toward release. The pole is at my back, cool in the stifling heat, but it doesn’t ease the burn. I pinch my nipple, tug hard and then rub away the pinch. Bite my lip to keep quiet. Not that the pervs would mind. I’m not sure if they can tell that it’s real this time or if they just enjoy a good show. Doesn’t matter. Cause I search out Zeke, find him still sitting in the chair, but now his hand is on his fly and rubbing his length. Yeah. Yeah. I’m doing that to him. My performance is getting him hot and bothered and I wish it was his hand I was fucking. I am fucking now, dick sliding through the circle of my fingers, sweat acting as lube. Faster and faster I move, eyes on Zeke, begging him to let me come. Somehow, his permission is suddenly the most important thing in the world. I am so totally fucked. I’m jacking myself fast now and I’m sure the idiots in the audience can see it all. My cock and balls on display as I practically rip myself out of the spandex. Fuck it.

I’m practically fucking air, aching and wanting until the pleasure is coursing through my veins like a drug. It’s tingling along my spine, gathering and growing with each passing second. I’m so close it’s laughable, but I refuse to push over until he says I can. Damn it, this is hard. And I want something in my ass. Preferably Zeke. The crowd’s getting rowdier, pushing my arousal and need higher with each hoot and holler. Fuck ‘em. It’s all centered around my dick now, balls drawn up tight, ready to explode as soon as I relax. I swear to fucking god he better do something soon. As if on cue, he nods and I come, liquid spurting from the tip of my cock, coating my hand and G in cum as spasm after spasm of pure ecstasy course through me, out of me. Dimly, I know that the crowd is freaking the fuck out, that I’m probably fired and that I’ll get paddled for the display. I can’t seem to care. Not when Zeke looks at me like he’s a starving man and I’m a steak. I slump against the pole, cum coating my hand, the tops of my thighs. Fuck it. I’m just going to catch my breath and then I’ll hustle off stage to grab my things. Tremors are still working their way through me, tiny shards of pleasure reminding me of what I’ve just done.

Good just can’t describe it. Between one blink and the next, the bouncer is there, shoving me toward the side of the stage, growling and bitching the whole time while trying to yell at the customers. I don’t even get to grab my costume. Then again, I doubt Zeke will let me keep working here even if I’m not fired. I get shoved through the doorway and still. Wait. Do I want him to be able to let me do things? Let him let me do what I’d like. Kinda. Yeah. The idea freaks me the fuck out cause I know I’m jumping ahead of myself. Way ahead. Cum is coating my upper thighs and groin, sliding down my legs as I make my way to the dressing room. It’s there that I’m met by a grim-faced Luca. I can practically feel the anger, disappointment and confusion warring within. I don’t slip past him into the room, instead, make my stand in the hallway. Face him. “You’re taking at least a week. Maybe more.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do with you, Tevin. You’re a friend, an employee and something to the man in there. And he’s the closest to a brother I’ve got.” His jaw is clenched, vein ticking. God, I’ve never felt shame before. Not ever. But I cross my hands over my groin, hide myself, and I feel about a foot tall. I don’t know what the hell to say. So I don’t.

Luca runs a hand through his hair, showing me how frustrated he is. “Get in there. I’ll get in touch.” He spins on his heal and stomps away, leaving me alone in the dimly-lit corridor. Taking a deep breath, I head into the dressing room and come face to face with Zeke. A very angry, very disappointed, Zeke. “Zeke-” “Not a word.” He points at a chair. “Sit.” I lick my lips, mouth suddenly dry, and sink onto the seat, hands still covering the front of my g-string protectively. Zeke stomps closer, arms crossed over his chest, frown firmly in place as he glowers at me. “You shared something, with a bunch of strangers, that should have been mine, boy, and you nearly caused a riot in Luca’s club.” The name boy didn’t illicit my normal reaction and serves to only make me feel smaller. I bow my head. I can’t look at him, see the truth of his words, his feelings. I’m attached already and hurting him, angering him, was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted... “Have anything to say for yourself?” I nibble my lower lip, “I, um, wasn’t thinking?” A sigh escapes my lips. “I wanted to give you a good show. I saw you, how excited you were and I thought you’d enjoy it.” “So, you didn’t think of the consequences. You didn’t remember Luca’s rules or the fact that your pleasure should belong to me?”

Luca’s rules. Okay, I fucked that up, but it’s not like Zeke and I had a “real” commitment or agreement, or anything. I pop from the seat, crane my head and glare at him. “Does it? We haven’t exactly agreed on that, have we?” Zeke growls, bends down until we’re eye-level. “Fine. We do now. You’re mine. Got it?” I poke him in the chest and I know it’s like poking a bear, but he’s pissing me off now. “No, not fine. You don’t get to rule my life just ‘cause you’re hot and growly and make my dick hard. My dick does not rule my life!” I’m glaring at him, pure stubbornness pouring through me. He’s glaring at me and he seems to be matching me for stubborn. I’m starting as I’ll go on and I won’t be pushed around by a man just because I call him “Daddy”. Even if I really, really want to call him Daddy. Turning over power is a choice and I’ll be damned if it’s taken. “Fine.” He’s mumbling around clenched teeth. “Please sit and we can discuss this.” “While you’re angry and I’m covered in cum?” His eyes narrow even further. “And whose fault is that?” “I won’t be held responsible for your emotions. I’m sticky because of something I did. Period. Your anger is your shit to deal with.” Zeke relaxes a fraction, shoulders not quite so stiff. “Okay. If I give you my address, will you come by after you’re cleaned up? When you’re ready?” See? He can be polite when he’s not being a bear.

I nod and slump into the chair. “I can do that. Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”

Chapter Four

The ride to Zeke’s doesn’t take long once I’m cleaned up, my little beater puttering along in his hoity-toity neighborhood. Guy said it was “quaint”. He should have said it was filled with half-million dollar homes. My knuckles are white from gripping the wheel so hard and I force myself to relax and glance at the slip of paper Zeke had given me. Turning my car into his driveway, I take a deep, soothing breath as I cut the engine. Now or never. Right. The house is huge. Okay, huge to me. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I push the doorbell and the door’s opened almost immediately, Zeke looking just as gorgeous as I remember. Then again, it’d only been an hour since we’d seen each other, but still. Hot. “Come in. I’ve got drinks and I ordered take out. Luca said you enjoy Italian, so I ordered from Gianni’s for us.” Okay, score one for Zeke. Even if he did ask Luca. I nod and follow him into the house, kicking my shoes off near the front door, Zeke frowns and I smile. “Old habit. I don’t wear shoes inside.” He shrugs and moves on and I’m at his heels, taking in the sparsely furnished home as we traverse the hallways. Before long, we’re in the living room, him on the couch, me on a nearby chair, both leather.

Zeke pops the top on a soda for me and sets it on a coaster while I poke around in the Styrofoam packages, claiming the Penne ala Vodka for myself. Yeah, I’m a bit selfish when it comes to Gianni’s. We’re quiet for a little while, sating our hunger and I’m silent from nerves more than anything else. We’ve gone about this a bit backwards, stumbling around instead of having a sit-down like we are now. Before long, Zeke leans back, not looking half as relaxed as he probably wants to. I mimic his position in my chair, keeping the soda in my hands. Something to hold on to. He’s not looking at me when he starts speaking, staring into space. “I like you a lot, Tevin. More than I should considering how much time we’ve spent together.” “I like you, too.” My voice is quiet. God, we’re like a bunch of high school kids. Or elementary age and I feel like I should be passing him a piece of paper. ‘Do you want to be my boyfriend? Check yes or no.’ A smile, small and soft, forms on his lips. “We’re like kids.” I can’t stop the laugh bubbling in my chest. “I was thinking the same thing!” Zeke pats the seat next to him. “Come here? Let me hold you while we talk?” I’m not hesitating now and place the soda on the coffee table before snuggling next to him, feel him lay his head on top of mine. “I’m sorry about earlier.” “Me, too. I didn’t mean to disappoint you and Luca.” I didn’t. “It was just...”

“Too much temptation. I nearly creamed my jeans watching you. Then I realized everyone else was watching you, too. That pissed me off.” I bury my face against his chest, inhale his scent before responding. “I know. I didn’t think of it at the time. Was just so turned on.” “I know, baby, I know. It’s forgotten. Once I calmed down, I realized I was out of line.” I hear, rather than feel, his kiss against my hair. “I’m still sorry.” “Forgotten.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath my ear and I can hear his heart rate increase. “I want a relationship with you, Tevin. I want to see you whenever we can. Touch you. Be sweet, and mean, to you. All of it.” I raise my head, stare into his eyes. “I’d like that, too. But I won’t be ordered around like a mindless kid. Yeah, you’re older, probably wiser, but I have to make mistakes. I can’t have you bulldozing me at every turn. Yeah, I fucked up, but I need to fuck up. Do I want some power exchange? Age-play? Fuck, yeah. Just, not all the time. I can’t feel like you’re ruling everything.” “I don’t want to rule everything, Tev. It’s just...” He rests his forehead against mine. “I want your pleasure to be mine. I get your job. I don’t like it, but it’s what you do and I can’t stop you. But coming on stage? I’d prefer that you don’t do that.” I grin. “Then you can’t come watch me. Cause that’s all I can think about when you’re around. All these muscles tense for me...Mmm...” “You’re an imp.”

“Your imp?” I mean, it sounds like that’s what he wants. Okay, sometimes I just a lot of reassurance. A lot. “Yeah. Age-play. Condoms, no fluids, only bruises and no sharing. I can do it all, want to do it all to you. Can’t wait.” “Me either.” It’s the truth. We had a hiccup before there was even a “we” to speak of, but I think we’ve got a start. “Stay? It’s late. You live in a crappy neighborhood.” He brushes his lips across mine, need rising with each passing second. “It’s not crappy.” My voice is a whisper, not wanting him to stop. “Mmm...” It’s not really an answer, but I’m too caught up in the kiss now. It’s gentle, sweet, passionate yet tender. He nips my lower lip and I open to him. Zeke licks the entrance to my mouth, seeming to enjoy my taste, before he delves inside, touching every part of me. I moan and sink into him even further, drink him in, our tongues stroking and playing. Gentle. There’s no fight for dominance, just wave after wave of rising arousal as he seduces me. And I let him. With every passing moment, the heat grows between us and I can feel my cock growing hard within my jeans, making them tight. I shift, unable to remain still, aching and wanting him more than I can say. He does it for me. Him. Zeke. Big man with gentle hands. Hands that will probably punish me but never in anger. Never.

My dick’s throbbing in time with my accelerated heart beat and I’m sure a wet spot is forming. I don’t care. I’ll deal with it later. I’m staying with him and that’s all that matters right now. I wrap my arms around his neck, one hand sifting through his short hair, pulling him closer, searching out every bit of his essence I can find. Want it all. Every drop of him. With no warning, Zeke breaks the kiss, forehead against mine, breathing hard. “Bedroom. Please, let me take you to the bedroom, Tevin. Need a flat surface. Don’t care if this is all we do, but I need you somewhere other than this couch.” Yeah. Only I want a lot more than kissing. I want to play. I want... “Yes...” I lick my lips, hoping he’ll go along, give me what I need. “Yes, Daddy.” God damn, but I almost come. A shudder travels through his body and I hope that he’s feeling the same things I am. Zeke strokes my cheek with one fingertip, traveling to my lip and outlining my mouth. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Fuckity, fuck. I’ll come. If he touches me right now, I’ll come in my jeans. Swear. To. God. “Not today, Daddy.” I nibble my lower lip and the growing tears in my eyes aren’t all fake. “I forgave you though, didn’t I?” I nod, but I think I need more and I hope he can see that.

“Do you need a spanking, little one?” His voice drops, passion flaring bright. “I think I do.” My voice is barely a whisper and I can’t wait to feel his palm on my ass. He shifts to stand and I crawl from the couch, cock tenting my jeans. “First door on the left.” He points down the hall. “Naked and ready. I’ll get some water.” I shuffle off to do as he bids, trepidation growing with each step. I asked for this, the pain, the release and forgiveness. I earned the punishment, even if we didn’t have an agreement in place. Had Luca not sent me away, I may have eventually asked him for this instead. Zeke’s room is dominated by a large, four-poster bed, muted colors throughout. Again, it’s orderly and sparse. I can see that he needs color in his life. Something bright and fun. Like me. I can hear Zeke puttering somewhere in the house and get to work stripping, tugging my shirt over my head and shimmying my jeans down my legs. Folding them, I put them on the chest at the end of the bed, not wanting to ruin the order he’s created. My cock’s softened without Zeke’s presence to spurn my arousal. Moving toward the bed, I settle on the carpet on my knees, ass on my heels and palms resting on my thighs. He didn’t say how he expected me to appear “ready”, so this is as good a position as any until he tells me otherwise.

I can hear the heavy thump of his feet on the hardwood floors in the hallway. Letting me know he’s coming closer and closer and my erection returns, dick filling with his every step. Before I know it, he’s there, bare-chested, bulge in his jeans and I lick my lips, wondering about his taste. “You sure, Tevin?” I glance up at him and nod, immediately returning my attention to his cock hidden by cloth. His voice turns hard, demanding. “Take me out.” I scramble to do as he says, lowering the zipper with shaking hands and slowly easing him free of the constraining jeans. It’s then that I get my first good look. Long and thick, he’ll be more than a mouthful. He’s uncut, angry red top of his cock peeking through the extra skin, tempting me with a droplet of pre-cum on the tip. Unbidden, I lean forward, tongue extended, already looking forward for that first taste. Inches turn into centimeters and when I’m a hairsbreadth from my goal, a large hand fists in my hair and forces my head back until I’m looking into Zeke’s eyes. “Did I give you permission to taste?” His voice is a growl, expression hard. “No, Daddy.” I whimper, tug against the hold, pain zinging through me, heightening my pleasure. “I wanted you to see what you’ll be getting, little one. You don’t deserve it just yet. Finish undressing me and then go to the chest over there. Pick your punishment.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat and reach for the waist of his jeans, ease them past his hips and down his legs until they’re pooled on the floor. I’m kneeling at his feet, drinking in every inch of his body, the play of skin over muscle as he stands before me. When my gaze finally reaches his face, he’s got a single eyebrow raised. Heat crawls up my neck, into my cheeks, and I drop my focus to his feet, pull the jeans aside as he steps free of the cotton. Zeke pads away from me, toward the bed and settles on the edge. With practiced ease, I roll to my feet and fold his jeans before placing them on the chest. I’ve got an order and I need to carry it out. He’s still quiet while I step toward the dresser and open the top drawer to reveal a plethora of items sure to make my ass sting, ache and burn. My cock’s hard. As a rock. Fucking granite between my thighs. The solid wood paddle appeals to me, but it’s the one with the holes that I need. That one draws me like a moth to a flame. Trite, but true. With infinite care, I lift the paddle from its place and then slide the drawer closed before I turn toward my Daddy. My cock bobs with every step I take closer to him. A foot from Zeke, I stop and extend my arms, palms up, presenting my choice to him. He lifts it, tests the weight and grips the wooden handle. “This is the one you want? It’ll hurt.” I lick my bottom lip, stare at the ground in front of my toes. “I know. I deserve it. For you, for Luca...for everything.”

Zeke shifts back a bit, widens his legs and holds his hands at his sides. The movement gives me a clear look at his dick, the flesh hard and seeming to reach for me. Only me. “Across my lap then. We’ll do this and it’ll be done, baby. Okay?” I sniffle, tears stinging my eyes, because deep down I know that I’ve disappointed and angered several people with my actions. A bit of selfishness causing a shitload of problems. As if I’d done it countless times before, I settle across Zeke’s lap, cock hanging between his thighs, presenting my ass to him. His plate-sized hand, complete with calluses, strokes my bare bottom, skimming my sensitized skin and fluttering across my crack as if I were the most delicate china. With every moment that he touches me, I’m more aroused, more in tune with his every breath, aching to be what he wants in a boy. “So pretty.” His voice is husky, low, growling and I whimper, pushing and arching against his hand. “Such a perfect little ass.” I squirm, wanting...something. He gives it to me. Between one breath and the next, the paddle slams against my ass, no prep, no warming or warning, just the connection between wood and flesh. I scream and move to rise, the pain, flight or fight response, taking over my body, but Zeke’s hand in the middle of my back keeps me from breaking position. I can’t breathe, can’t move, can only feel.

He hits me again, the sound reverberating through the room, through my body. The pain radiates from my ass, warming and shooting through me, bringing tears to my eyes with each thud of the paddle. “Count.” His voice is hoarse, strained. Another strike. Another bout of agony. “Three, Daddy.” God, it’s only been three. Tears aren’t just threatening now, they’re trailing down my cheeks, splashing onto the floor. Yet another. “Four.” I’m gasping. And despite the pain, the agony of the spanking, I’m turned on by the act. I want this, deserve this and crave this. More than anything. “Five.” I’m choking on the pain and the pleasure that’s growing, radiating from my ass. The pain is morphing, twisting and turning within, becoming more. Zeke stops for a moment, hand sliding over my heated rear and I flinch with the contact. “Easy.” His voice is soft, soothing, gentle. Easy, slow strokes of his palm against my heated skin quickly ratchet up my arousal, make me want whatever Zeke will give me. “Such a good boy.” I whimper and press into his touch, search out the pleasure, drink up every drop. “Daddy.” My voice is a whisper, eyes closed, I tune out everything but the feeling of his skin against mine.

“It’s over, now, little one. You did good.” I bend further, press my face against his calf and take a deep breath, taking in his scent and savor it. As my heart calms, I push into his touches as they become stronger, harder...more. Heat is morphing into pleasure, my cock’s throbbing in time with the beat of my heart, the thunder of blood roaring through my veins. He’s stroking my ass, fingers playing over my heated skin and the tips grazing my hole. God, to be filled by him, surround him and cradle him close. I arch my back, rising and hinting at what I want, earning a soft chuckle from Zeke. “Needy, minx.” A quick pop, the palm of his hand against my ass and then he’s pulling me up until my feet rest on the ground once again. “Bed.” I scramble to listen, crawl across the expansive mattress and settle on my back, legs wide, open and ready for whatever he wants to do to me. I trust him not to hurt me for a variety of reasons...but it’s my gut that I’m going with and it tells me that no matter how big, or strong, Zeke may be, he’d never hurt me. Unless I wanted him to. He opens the bedside table to retrieve a condom and a bottle of lube. Internally? I’m doing a happy dance. Externally? My cock’s still throbbing, precome glistening at the tip of my dick and it’s taking everything in me not to stroke myself. I want Zeke to do that, to give me the friction I need with his hands. He climbs onto the bed and settles back on his heels, attention focused between my legs, straying to my face for a moment before zeroing back in on my exposed ass.

“So, so pretty.” Zeke strokes my inner thigh, fingertips dipping between my cheeks for the barest of moments before pulling away. I hear, rather than see, the cap of the lube clicking open and I imagine him coating his fingers in the slippery fluid. Cool digits circle my asshole, nerves tingling, stretching and awakening under his touch. Round and round they go until a single finger slips past the rings of muscle to invade my body. He fucks me then, out and in, nice and slow until I’m sweating and needing more. Much more. “Zeke...” I don’t care if I’m begging. His finger disappears. “What?” A shudder works through me, cock impossibly harder. My voice is soft, a whisper, when I respond. “Daddy.” He gives me more, stretching and filling at the same time, fingers finding that special spot inside me, stroking the walnut-shaped piece of flesh that sends lightning through me from head to toe. I close my eyes, back arched and muscles tight while I rock against him, fuck myself on his hand, take what he’s offering and work toward my release. Harder and harder I move, panting, dying and living at the same time. Need, need, need... But I get nothing. Zeke pulls free of my body and I open my eyes to see him fitting a condom over his cock and I lick my lips, suddenly realizing I haven’t had a taste of him.

“Later, baby.” He really needs to stop talking. Really. I open my mouth to tell him that, but he’s easing into me, ass burning, skin stretching and accommodating his girth. Fuckity fuck fuck. And another fuck. He braces his hands on either side of my shoulders, gaze on mine while he continues to invade me, giving me an ache that only he can soothe. Zeke inches forward and then eases back, in and then out, over and again until he’s seated to the hilt. He’s been holding his breath the whole time, as if afraid even breathing would ruin the moment. We both moan when he’s all the way in and I wiggle my ass, wanting to take him even deeper. “Minx.” He drops his forehead to mine as we share the very air we breathe. “Your minx?” Yeah, I’m a needy little shit. “Mine.” Zeke growls and captures my lips in a kiss, teeth nipping, tongue dueling with mine while we explore each other. He retreats before shoving forward once again, yanking a groan from my chest. I stroke him, fingers exploring chiseled muscles and sensitive skin. Learning him from outside in. His breathing is growing heavy, our bodies moving without conscious thought, taking and giving everything we’ve got. I want this, him, more and all of it at once. I plant my feet on the bed and work my hips to meet his thrusts, giving us each a little bit more to hold onto, a bigger wave of pleasure to ride. Already I can feel myself easing toward the edge, climbing the mountain and preparing myself to jump off the ledge. The pleasure is skittering along my spine,

plucking at every nerve ending from head to toes and back again to settle in my balls. God, I want it. Him. Everything. Did I mention that? Closer and closer I ease toward release. My cock’s steadily leaking now, filled to bursting, but not without Zeke. My Daddy. Just, mine. “Come on, baby.” One of his hands leaves the bed, encircle my cock and tugs on the hard flesh. I still for a blink and then change my movements, allow myself to get fucked, yet fuck his hand. I slide easily through the circle of his fingers, his grip tightening and handing pleasure over on a platter. I feel like I’m going to stop breathing at any moment, everything crowding in on me and pushing, dragging me, to the edge. “Come on. Come for me.” His voice is pure growl, a demand and a plea in one, forcing me to listen. Back arched, mouth open and Zeke’s name on my lips, I come on my chest, pleasure gathering and radiating through my entire body. Wave after wave of ecstasy pours through me, rides along my veins and I’m shaking with the intensity. String after string of cum spurts from the head of my dick and Zeke stills above me, roaring his own pleasure, screaming my name as if he’d never get to speak again. “Tevin.” God, the sound of his voice is enough to get me hard again. My cock twitches, interested, yet exhausted.

Zeke slumps over me and I cradle him close, relishing in his heavy weight. I feel protected, wanted. His faced is pressed against my neck and I can feel his lips pressing against my skin, tongue licking me. He’s nuzzling me, showing the sweet side of the large man who seems to be able to scare just about everyone. I’m not scared anymore. At least, not a lot. Much too soon, he rises and pulls free of my ass. Suddenly empty, I whimper at the loss of contact, earning a soft pet from Zeke, his palm skimming my chest, sifting through the come to stroke my skin. “Shh...I’ll be right back.” I quiet and watch him stalk to the bathroom, returning in moments with a washcloth. A few quick swipes and I’m clean, Zeke settling next to me, pulling the covers over our naked bodies and tugging me close. I snuggle against him, head resting on his shoulder. Content. More than, actually. “Was it worth it?” I’m half asleep already. I barely register his words. “Huh?” “Your show tonight. Was it worth the pain?” I sigh. “Oh, yeah. I got you, right? Any amount of pain is worth being with you, Zeke. Don’t freak on me, but it totally was worth the spanking.” Zeke’s quiet for a few moments and I’m convinced I’ve blown it all to hell by telling him that he’s worth just about anything.

He tightens his arm around me and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I promise not to freak on you if you don’t freak on me.” “Deal.” Then his hands are on me, shifting me until I’m a human blanket on top of him, staring into his eyes. “Good. Because I’m keeping you.” All righty then.

About the Author: Celia Kyle would like to rule the world and become a ninja. As a fall-back, she’s working on her writing career and giving readers stories that touch their hearts and *ahem* other places. http://celiakyle.com http://facebook.com/celiakyle http://twitter.com/celiakyle