PureIndulgenceVSue (3 page)

Joe went completely still. Adam’s cheek fit perfectly in his cupped hand. Adam even bent a little more and rubbed his cheek on Joe’s palm. Joe’s heart was beating so loudly he was convinced his neighbors could hear it. In fact, the lead news item on television the next day would probably be some shit about an ex-Orlando detective dropping dead of a heart attack.

Joe shook his head, made his legs work, tried very hard to ignore the other part of his body. Very hard—
urghh.
He opened his dresser and fished around for a pair of shorts. He headed for the shower that joined to his bedroom, and he had no intention of making it cold. After all, it was his shower and about time it was christened. When he was done, he would head for the couch.

Fuck.
Joe banged his head against the wall. He didn’t have a couch. The store actually tried to deliver one yesterday, but as usual Joe had been late at work. Now he definitely needed a shower.

Joe turned the shower on. He knew it was fancy, could be pre-programmed and all that, but right now he was too distracted to care. Joe got in and stood under the beating spray. God that was good.

He leaned forward against the wall, the hot water pounding his neck. How had he got himself into this? That boy. If he was going to be honest with himself, he’d been watching the boy for weeks.

He squeezed some gel out onto his palm and started soaping himself up. His hands trailed lower, to his cock. Joe lazily palmed himself and tried to think about Callie, or Sarah from the club. Callie was a nice handful, the way her hips swung when she danced, two cute blond pig-tails bouncing along with some very nice tits. More than a handful. Very nice. Joe rubbed a little harder.

He must have been more tired than he thought. It looked like his dick wasn’t getting the exciting picture Callie presented. Joe nearly groaned. No, his dick was completely uninterested. God, maybe he was getting old. Thirty-one and he felt about fifty some days. Two failed marriages he really didn’t want to think about. His dick was completely limp. It was a complete waste of a good shower. Joe sighed and washed his hair, not that he had much hair to wash—more like a fuzzy scalp really.

Joe turned the water off and toweled himself dry. Where the fuck was he going to sleep? He didn’t even have spare bedding to use to go lay on the lounge floor, and no pillows except the ones on the bed.

Joe opened the bathroom door quietly after donning his shorts. He grinned. Adam was curled into a ball and snoring softly. He eyed the bed warily. It was huge, super-king. Surely he could sleep at one side and manage not to go near Adam? Hell, there was nowhere else to sleep.

Joe padded to the bed and, before he could change his mind, discreetly slid under the covers. He turned his back to Adam and determinedly shut his eyes.

****

Joe woke slowly with the strange feeling he was in someone else’s bed, because there was definitely someone else’s arm draped across his middle, a head resting on his chest, and a leg resting somewhere it shouldn’t.

Shit.
He remembered. His ribs heaved upward over his thankfully-still-beating, still-attached heart. He swallowed, idly wondering if now was a good time to consider getting a drinking water dispenser for his bedroom. He’d never suffered from such a lack of spit before. Joe tried to think about what should be the first part of Adam’s body he could move first.

Adam’s leg moved.
His hand. Move his goddamn hand.
Joe desperately tried to get his attention off Adam’s leg. Joe’s dick, however, hadn’t got that memo. Joe lifted his head and stared accusingly at the tent in the comforter—the one that wasn’t entirely caused by Adam’s leg. Adam moved. Joe went completely still. If he could have demanded his cells to stop duplicating, he would have. Joe then realized Adam had gone completely still as well. Well, shit, now Adam was awake and wondering how the hell to get out of this mess. Adam’s head moved upwards. Joe tried, he really did. Every bit of his brain was telling him not to lower his head, to check if Adam was watching him.

Sleepy green eyes blinked and stared at him. Outside of Joe’s brain, he knew the world had continued to spin. People were getting up and going to work. Some were seeing if they could catch an early game. Some had even groaned and thanked the fuck they could roll back over. No one cared that Joe hadn’t. No one noticed that on its last rotation, the world had paused and dumped Joe off somewhere. The world, its people, and its continued spinning now had nothing whatsoever to do with Joe.

There was only one part of Joe’s body currently interested in whatever was going on in here, and his brain had nothing to do with it. Actually, Joe qualified, gulping, that wasn’t strictly true. His second ex-wife always said he kept his brain in his pants.

“Hi.”

Joe heard the word but didn’t think he could get his throat to work well enough to actually form the sound of a reply. He settled on a half-smile. He cleared his throat. Noisily. “Err...I haven’t got a spare bed. Or a spare couch. Actually, no, I haven’t
any
couches.”

Adam twinkled. Oh God. He screwed his eyes up, getting that funny light in them, and yes “twinkled” was a fair and accurate description. He also didn’t move.

“I’m not complaining...Sir,” he said.

It was that word again. The one word that would be Joe’s salvation and his downfall. So, Adam wanted to play, did he? Well—

“Present yourself, sub.” Joe’s voice dropped at least two octaves as the rest of his body caught on. It was about time he got Adam out of his system once and for all.

Adam’s eyes nearly lifted to his hairline, but in seconds he was on the floor, kneeling and, from the waist down…naked.

Joe got up carefully and walked around the bed. “This is your one and only chance to say no. Just because we may scene here doesn’t mean we will at the club. I am not Callum, and you are not Lee. We are not in a relationship, and I am not looking for any type of long term sub.”

Joe had been called a bastard many times on the job and often by his second ex-wife. However, as he saw the light leave Adam’s eyes it was the first time he had ever felt like one.

This was clearly the answer though. This inexplicable attraction. This aberration. He would do this and get it out of his system once and for all. Joe stared at Adam. He hadn’t replied, and he kept his head lowered. “I need words...sub.”
Shit.
Joe had nearly called him boy. But he wasn’t his, and he would never be.

Adam looked up. The depth of his gaze hit Joe in the gut. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—do this, and it was on the tip of his tongue to call a halt to the whole thing.

“Yes, Sir. I agree. This time only.” Joe held his breath as Adam opened his mouth, the words banal and robotic. “No relationship. You are not my Master.” Adam looked back at the floor.

Joe stood straighter. He’d seen Adam’s shoulders dip slightly as he repeated Joe’s terms.

“Strip,” Joe commanded. Adam stood quickly and peeled off his t-shirt. It dropped to the floor. “Pick it up, fold it and put it on the chair.” Joe watched Adam oblige, but didn’t move. “Now, strip me.” Joe kept himself statue-still as Adam’s slim fingers brushed at his hips to remove his shorts. Joe carefully stepped out of them, and Adam placed them neatly with his shirt. He hovered then, eyes down in front of Joe.

“Kneel.”

Without a second’s pause, Adam dropped in front of Joe. Joe’s cock was clearly interested in the proceedings, the way it jutted out. It was so close to Adam’s mouth he could feel the soft stir of Adam’s warm breath riding his skin.

“You know what to do, sub.” Joe exhaled as Adam lifted his hand to grasp his cock. “Hands behind your back.” Joe nearly barked out the order. He was amazed not only that his vocal chords were functioning at all, but that he sounded so unaffected.

Adam obediently caught one hand in the other behind his ass.
Good boy
was on the tip of Joe’s tongue, but then he remembered and caught himself.

Joe did gasp then. His mouth opened on a silent O, and he closed his eyes as the most perfect—the most fucking perfect goddamn amazing—lips closed over his cock. He fisted his hands in alarm as the pure bliss nearly had him shooting in Adam’s mouth within seconds. He’d had head, never given it obviously, but this was nothing like he’d ever felt before. The pounding in Joe’s chest now matched the pounding in his groin. Joe could feel every drop of blood in his head drain south and center in the middle of his universe, which was at least two feet lower than it used to be. He clenched his jaw and hardened his abdomen. He couldn’t come too early, and there was no way he could tell Adam to stop. He tried to relax his hands and reached around the back of Adam’s head, desperate to anchor himself to something to stop his world from shattering.

A desperate guttural groan bled from his lips. Adam pushed down and scraped back with his teeth. Joe’s legs barely held him up. He knew he was digging into Adam’s scalp with his fingers. Hot, tight, incredible wet suction pulled at his very soul.

Adam made one small needy sound. A whine, a murmur, a small catalyst that resonated inside him. Joe blew his load. He had no warning, could give no warning. One second he was dying from pleasure, the next every cell in his body exploded with life.

Adam drew back gently. Joe’s lungs were heaving, and he forced himself to open his eyes. Knew what he would see. Adam was panting softly, head lifted, eyes fixed on Joe, a stark question mirrored in them. The same one that Joe’s disbelieving brain was screaming at him. There was no way once would get this out of his system. He was in a shit load of trouble, and he was embarrassed at the slight tremor in the hand he held out to Adam, to get him off his knees.

Adam clasped Joe’s hand and rose. As Adam’s eyes clouded and he dropped his gaze, Joe knew he was hurting this incredibly giving boy by not saying anything. Joe cupped his hand under Adam’s chin to raise those beautiful eyes to his; he knew he had no hope of answering Adam’s questions. He had no idea of the answers himself.

He wasn’t gay. He never had been. He’d fancied women all his life. Yes, there had been so much missing in all his relationships. Hell, his ex-wife could rant a long list. But this, this was something different. Something incredibly special. Something almost...
pure.
He felt like he could just reach out and touch it.

Joe raked his gaze over Adam. The boy’s shallow breaths were pushing at his chest. His small but clear abs dipped to a tiny waist. He had a smattering of dark hair, clearly trimmed, that tempted Joe’s gaze lower. His fingers itched to reach out and touch it. A throbbing, bruised-looking head proudly dripped pre-cum. Adam’s cock jerked with the visible tremors from his body. Joe felt the hammer in his groin and unbelievably, his own dick bounced back.

“Lie down on the bed.” The order surprised Joe as much as it appeared to for Adam. The flare of hope in Adam’s gaze nearly changed his mind. Joe remembered when he’d carried Adam to the truck. He weighed nothing. They had all that shit to sort out and here he was getting deeper into something Joe wasn’t sure he was going to be able to pull back from.

“Sir?” Adam scrambled for the bed and lay there on his back. He swallowed and lifted two arms up to Joe, the invitation and its implication very clear.

For now, at least, there was only one answer Joe could give.

“Boy.”

Chapter 3

What the fuck was he doing?

At least if they’d been at the club, Joe would have had equipment, props, something, anything to put distance between him and Adam. There were other Doms that scened with both female and male subs. Following through on a scene didn’t mean they actually had to have sex. He’d often stayed completely dressed. Joe getting off was all about the sub getting off only when Joe said he could.

Joe narrowed his eyes.
Or not.
A scene didn’t always involve the sub getting off either.

He sat on the edge of the bed and ignored both of Adam’s outstretched arms. A flicker of doubt registered in those green eyes. His arms lowered, and his gaze followed them.

“S-Sir?”

Good, thought Joe. Adam had knocked him for six, about time he was thrown a curve ball. “Silence, boy.” Joe stretched out alongside Adam. Purposely keeping at least eight inches between them. He lowered his head to Adam’s and whispered. “Close your eyes.” Adam, immediately obedient, quickened something inside Joe’s gut.

“You will be silent and you will remain still. You are not allowed to touch yourself anywhere on your body. You just have to lie there and listen to me.”

Adam went to open his mouth, then closed it with a snap and nodded his head.

“I want you to imagine we have just walked into Pure. You are dressed in black leather shorts and are kneeling to present yourself to me. You can hear the sounds of the dungeon all around you. Someone is on the cross. You can hear them, but you’re not allowed to turn your head to see. Low guttural cries after each crack on sweat-slicked skin—you can almost breathe it in. Moans and pants coming from the corner. The dull thud from a paddle and the wet echo of a hand smacking a red, inflamed ass. Your breath quickens just a little. What will Sir chose? Will it be a cane or shall I just use my hand?” Adam’s hips jumped as Joe rested the flat of his hand gently on the boy’s abdomen.

Joe’s own heart quickened at the delicious rippling of Adam’s flesh. “You’ve just been commanded to strip. That’s it, keep your eyes closed. All your attention is on me. You hadn’t realized how warm it is in the club. You can feel a drop of sweat trickle down your chest.” He trailed his finger from Adam’s throat slowly all the way to his waist. He saw Adam try to swallow hard, felt his chest rise a little quicker.

“Now my hands are on your waist. You can feel two fingers pressing to undo the button. The sudden relief as the zip lowers and your cock springs free. Hits the air. Bounces as your balls draw up, desperate for my touch. There’s a damp smear on your stomach from the leaking tip. The cooler skin underneath tightens and pulls. You’re desperate for Sir to touch it. So close, my hand is so close.”