Page 28 of Wild Fire

But I didn’t feel the way I usually do after I come with a sub, and I’m a firm believer that if something isn’t working, you don’t force it. Still, when Jackson asked me to sign off on his hours for his certification, I guess there was a part of me that felt guilty about everything, so I felt like helping out a friend was the least I could do, and now…

Now there’s a beautiful young man upstairs, naked in my bathroom, with hot water sluicing down his skin in my shower… and I don’t know what to do.

My cock twitches with excitement, my brain already forming a hundred scenes I could play out with him. It would be so easy to just… walk upstairs, into the bathroom, and push the curtains aside and catch him by surprise. I bet his eyes would go wide and he’d gasp; his cheeks would blush that perfect shade of pink that makes my cock jump just thinking about it. Which makes me think about other places his skin might pink up and all the different ways I could make his blood rush to elicit that response. Something tells me he wouldn’t mind one bit if I got in the shower and shoved him against the wall and ordered him to get on his knees and wrap those beautiful lips around my fat cock.

But that doesn’t mean I should.

I want to. Fuck, the thought of doing just that makes my cock throb, and I can already feel precum pebbling at my cockhead from the image of Nate on his knees before me, looking up at me with those big, blue-green eyes, biting that plump lower lip of his with a a look of hunger that echoes my own. It shouldn’t be this hard to ignore my impulses, being as I’ve done it before, and up until recently, I’ve kept this part of my life locked down. I thought I threw away the damn key when Cal broke my heart and my trust.

But Nate is… there’s something different about him, something I can’t quite put into words because it’s more of a feeling than something tangible; it’s something that plucks chords I haven’t had plucked in a long fucking time, and it’s really hard to resist.

I knew I was into kink long before I knew I was gay.

I just didn’t know that what I liked wasn’t typical. I thought the restraint stuff was just interesting, and most of it centered around a certain theme—submission. Men tied up and blindfolded. Men strapped to St. Andrew’s Crosses. Men bound and gagged and stuffed full of cock, crying because it hurt or because it felt so good. That changed all the time for me. Some days, I wanted the pain, and some days I wanted the pleasure. I don’t remember when I chose the pain over the latter, but I guess it’s what I prefer when it comes to my desires. Giving my subs the pleasure they crave is what brings me the most pleasure. And the only way I can give them that, is if they submit to me—to my demands, my orders, my pleasure.

It wasn’t until my dad caught me watching porn and jacking off that I even realized that type of porn wasn’t the kind I was supposed to be watching.

At least, according to my dad, who tried to steer me to straight porn, which did not have the same effect. At all.

But even then, I knew the difference between domination and submission. I understood that when I watched those men getting bound and gagged or ordered around and spanked that even as hot as it was—and it was hot—it wasn’t about the sex. It was about being that close, trusting someone that much that you’d do anything they asked. I wanted to feel that kind of intensity. I wanted to make someone feel that good; to find the pleasure beyond the pain. I wanted someone to make me feel that level of ecstasy, that rush, that high of complete exaltation. But most of all, I wanted to trust someone enough that I could let them into my shadows, and know they’d understand me even if I couldn’t understand myself.

I’ve served enough subs that I know I like taking care of them, and that’s part of the draw for me. Making decisions for them, cooking for them, buying them clothes and doing things for them. Most of the subs I’ve had are pretty familiar with the dynamic of this type of power exchange, and those things are negotiated at the beginning of a contract of what sort of care will be given, what sort of language will be acceptable, and what sort of limits and boundaries will be set in place. It’s all orchestrated, scripted. I know my role, and they know theirs, and I know what I can and can’t do. It takes a lot of control and patience to lose control, and a lot of trust and faith that the person you give it to won’t hurt you, and if they do…

They’ll do whatever it takes to put you back together and make sure you’re okay. Not every scene ends with an orgasm, and not every orgasm makes you feel good, even if it’s what you wanted.

But Nate’s not a sub. He doesn’t seem to have that spark of wanting to obey, or needing to please like most of my ex-subs. Even Cal, asshole that he was, needed to be broken to feel like he was whole. Forced into submission by a strong hand. The domination was what he needed to feel like he could breathe, because of his high-stress job—and the secrets he was keeping. Which isn’t as uncommon as many people think. But even on some level, Cal wanted to listen. He wanted to obey me because that’s what made him feel in control. Giving it up meant he could just sit back and let someone else take the wheel, someone else could call the shots, and someone else could do all the hard work. All he had to do was listen. Obey. Do I as I said, and I would give him what he wanted more than anything.

But Nate doesn’t want to listen. I don’t think he knows how.

I swear, I must have told him at least three times to sit his ass down, and it wasn’t until I pulled out my dom voice that he obeyed me. But it wasn’t just the fact he finally did what I asked. It was the way his entire body went stiff like a board and his pupils dilated and his breath caught from just my fucking tone, and he became someone else instantly before my eyes.

It was like I cracked some code in his head that he didn’t know was there, and that is the number one reason I should not pursue Nate Barrett in any way, shape, or form. He’s not part of this world that is embedded in my DNA. He’s a vanilla baby. A total clean slate, a slab of clay waiting to be molded. He wouldn’t be the first curious person to wind up at Shadows because they want to take a walk on the dark side, but seeing his reaction to me makes me a little worried that he could be easily taken advantage of. Especially if someone else is able to crack that code and realizes he can be shaped so easily.

Which is why I need to do what I can to make sure he’s safe, and that’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I’m folding his fucking clothes and driving him to the insurance company, and why I’m going to inform him about the importance of knowing the rules when engaging in kink, and it’s why I’m going to help him find a job that won’t put him at the center of the pit of sin.

And I think I know just the place.

Chapter Ten

Nate

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I drawl as I stare at the brightly colored funhouse that looks rather ominous, despite its vibrancy. I side eye AJ.

“You said you needed a job, and it’s temporary,” he says, like that is just the end of the discussion. Which, honestly, I don’t know how I feel about that.

On one hand, it’s kind of hot when he gets all growly and tells me shit, but on the other hand, I want to tell him to fuck off, he’s not the boss of me.

Part of me wonders what he’d do if I did that… and I’m quite tempted to do just that because I hear the unmistakable laugh of a clown. I fucking hate clowns.

“Yeah, because they probably murdered the last guy who worked here,” I bite. “Unless you brought me here to kill me.”

AJ chuckles. “Trust me, Bright Eyes, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t do it where there are children running around.”

I scoff at him as a young woman heads down the metal slope towards me, dressed in a bright yellow and red polo and pants, her cheeks painted with pink hearts.

“Oh my God, AJ!!!” she squeals as she runs up and throws her arms around him. I raise my eyebrow, as he laughs as she nearly knocks him over.

Who the hell is this?