3-Ties That Bind (3 page)

“Like I couldn’t tell,” Glen muttered, although he had a smile on his face. And yes, Derek still did have the countenance of a military man, but he knew Glen had done some checking on him as well.

“Want me to take you over my knee right here?” Derek’s words came out as more of a growl than he intended, but Glen drew in a sharp breath and his cock hardened in the soft cotton of his jeans. “I’ll keep that in mind. For later.”

Glen nodded, his eyes bright. “About what happened…last night…”

“Problem?”

“No.” The boy shifted. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

“If you had, I wouldn’t have called you over. I wouldn’t have tucked you in and let you drool on my shoulder until dawn.”

“I don’t drool.”

“No, you don’t.” He looked at the boy. “I was hoping you’d come back tonight. That’s why I’m here—for you.”

“Me too.”

“Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“I have weekend leave.”

“My house, then.” Derek began walking, giving Glen no choice but to follow. “Is your car here?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll follow you—drop it off and we’ll have dinner first.”

Pride flooded Glen when he realized Derek had been waiting for him. He watched the Dom stride through the back exit, stared at his wide shoulders and back, and as his gaze dropped lower, Derek turned suddenly.

“Like what you see?”

Glen nodded, and Derek shook his head and continued walking, pointed to his truck. Glen got into his car to follow, had to force himself to concentrate on the road and Derek’s taillights, because his mind was racing. He wanted this—wanted Derek—but he had his own set of rules.

What if Derek didn’t want to hear them? Or worse, deal with them?

Finally, he pulled into his garage. Got out and closed the door behind him and took a deep breath before getting into the passenger’s side of Derek’s truck. Sat and stared straight ahead, and finally realized that Derek wasn’t pulling out.

If Derek wanted to know his bottom line, better to tell him now. If he didn’t want to stick around after that, so be it.

Damn, he wanted Derek to stick around, though.

Before he could stop himself, he told the Dom, “I like being a submissive. I don’t like rules and regs, all that master shit. I give myself to you not only because I want to, but because you deserve it. I want the pleasure. I want to be tied up. I’m not into any of that
sit in a corner because you were bad
shit. And I can’t stay tied up all night, sleep on floors, wear collars or be ordered all night, because I have a job flying Navy helos and if I’m not alert, people die.” It all came out in a big breath and he shifted, his body tight from the confession.

He hadn’t looked at Derek at all while he’d spoken, not because of any D/s rules, but because he didn’t want to see disapproval. But Derek’s hand cupped his chin and tugged until Glen did look him in the eye.

He saw exactly what he’d hoped to in Derek’s gaze. “That all works for me. I’m not looking for a traditional sub. Just someone who likes to let me do what I do best, which is dominate.”

“I just…needed you to know my bottom line. Because you don’t know me and—”

Derek interrupted him, his tone firm but gentle. “You have nothing to prove to me, boy. If you were John’s, you’re special. But I knew that about you from the second you walked into the club.”

He released Glen’s chin, touched his lips with his thumb, tracing the bottom one until Glen felt himself harden.

“You don’t trust me fully yet,” he continued and Glen nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve been hanging around with the wrong people if you have to ask that.”

“John wasn’t wrong.” Glen heard the defensiveness in his own tone and wondered what that was all about.

“No, but you were young. You should know better now. This isn’t about one night of play. This is about building something between us. At least that’s what I’m looking for.”

“It…I don’t…” Fuck. He hadn’t expected anything like this. But it sounded like he should be expecting a lot more for himself. “Me too.”

Derek smiled. “Good. Let’s grab some dinner and we can talk more.”

As he pulled out into the street, Glen wondered if it could really be this easy. He didn’t know if it was supposed to be.

Certain things had been. When the world was too much, he’d head over to John’s and let him work his magic. There were no questions asked. No negotiation. John would do whatever he wanted and Glen would tell himself that’s what he wanted.

At the time, it might’ve been. But now, his life—everything about him—had changed. He supposed it was time for the rules to change as well.

Derek picked a Chinese restaurant close to his house. They ordered Yuengling beers and dishes to share, and Derek settled back against the rounded, private booth and put his feet on either side of Glen’s under the table in an obvious show of possessiveness. Thought about grabbing the boy and kissing the shit out of him, but hell, he wouldn’t do that to anyone with an active-duty military career.

As if Glen knew what he was thinking, he shook his head and bit his bottom lip.

“I’ll do that for you later myself,” Derek told him.

As they settled into dinner, Derek knew he needed to move past the lighter topics they’d discussed earlier back at the bar. They’d covered some good ground in the car—Derek was more than pleased to see Glen looking out for himself, stating his wants and needs. But there were still more questions to be asked. “Are you still suicidal?”

Glen worked his chopsticks around a piece of chicken and looked Derek right in the eyes before answering, “Anyone who flies military choppers has a death wish, but you knew that already.”

Derek had his answers—the boy liked danger and adrenaline, but mentally, he was stable. He wouldn’t have been able to fool the military docs all these years. “I didn’t think they’d let you in with all those tats.”

“If you’re good enough, they’ll let you do anything,” Glen said. “I cover them.”

Derek wanted him naked for long enough to go over all of them—with his lips, tongue, fingertips. “You gave up swimming long before John died.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “Just wanted to see how serious you were.”

“I guess I passed your test.”

Glen just gave a half grin at that. “Did you know John?”

“By his reputation, mostly. I met him a few times in passing, but I was active duty then so I wasn’t frequenting the bar much.” Derek pushed the remaining food toward Glen—the boy would need to keep up his reserves for the job he did. He probably still had the appetite of a teenager and worked out enough to be able to eat a great deal of calories per day.

Glen predictably gave no argument, finished the food and settled back in obvious contentment. “That’s good. I didn’t eat much today.”

“Why not?”

He gave a sheepish shrug and Derek knew the answer—the same case of nerves that had kept Derek himself on edge all day as well. So he let Glen off the hook with that one, but continued, “I’m guessing you met John at the bar.”

“Yeah. I snuck in there one night with a fake ID. Had no clue what I was doing. Everything happened the way it did last night—all these guys came up to me and I thought I was going to lose it. I was just about to turn and leave when John took my arm and brought me to the bar. Sat me down and asked my real age.”

“You were nowhere near twenty-one, I’m guessing.”

“Seventeen. I was with John from seventeen,” he said. “No one knew that. I told him I had no idea what I was doing—Christ, I was a total fucking innocent, and he had every right to turn me away and let me find the trouble I’d gone in looking for. But he took me on instead.”

“From what I knew of him, he didn’t like the young ones.”

“No, he didn’t. But he liked me.” Glen’s face glowed with pride.

“I can see why.” He tried to picture Glen on that first night, young and scared and still willing to try anything. And then he realized with a start that, even though John wasn’t around any longer, he still didn’t want to picture this boy—his boy—with anyone but him. Where that sudden surge came from he had no clue, but it startled him. Must’ve shown on his face, because Glen asked, “You all right, Derek?”

“Just having a hard time picturing you with anyone but me,” he said honestly. “But I’m okay with you talking about it. I think you have to.”

Glen nodded. “I never really have, with anyone. Kept a lot in, with good reason. It’s private stuff.”

“You said you tried subbing with someone else after him.”

Glen’s face hardened, almost imperceptibly. His hand tightened around the beer and he took a long drink before nodding yes. Then said, “It was a year after John died. I thought I was ready.”

“Too soon.”

“It wasn’t too soon. He was the wrong guy. You have no idea how wrong.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Are you a one-man rescue machine?” Glen demanded.

The boy would bend for him. How Glen would look, tied, arms and legs, helpless, had make Derek jack off twice in the shower.

If the look of complete pleasure at his orgasm last night plus his submissive compliance was any indication, Derek knew he was correct.

“Isn’t that what you want?” Derek asked calmly, partially enjoying the confusion on Glen’s face. “Boy, you’ve got a mouth on you. Between that and your earlier Marine comment, I’m thinking you really want me to take you in hand.”

Glen opened his mouth but a soft huff came out instead of words. If Derek reached for his crotch, he was certain he’d find Glen hard as hell. He passed his keys across the table. “Go start the truck—I’ll be out after I pay. And no more mouth from you.”

Glen bit his bottom lip and waited for a long moment before he moved out of the booth, shoved his hands in his pockets, and Derek forced himself not to smile at the boy’s discomfort.

He took his time paying the bill, hit the head, then ambled out into the nice, warm car. Didn’t say anything more than a few directions until they got to the woods behind his house. All his property. No one would bother him on his own land, but Glen wouldn’t know that.

When Glen parked, Derek told him, “Get in the back.”

He’d already put the second row of seats down to give them more room, had done so before he’d driven to the bar just in case.

Glen gave him a hesitant glance before gracefully getting into the back.

“Clothes off. On your hands and knees, facing the back. Spread your legs.”

He watched in the rearview mirror to see Glen doing as he asked. Only then did he join him. Rubbed a hand over the boy’s back and down over his ass. “Nice.”

He leaned forward and bound Glen’s wrists with leather straps that were soft on the inside and would leave no marks, and then chained them hard to the latch so Glen couldn’t move them at all. Forced into position with no out, Glen groaned when he realized it.

The sound shot through Derek more effectively than a hand on his cock. His beautiful boy, tied, all for his pleasure.

He ran his tongue down the boy’s spine, starting at his neck and ending at the crack of his ass. Stopped short of breaching where they both wanted him to go, heard the grunt of frustration as he worked his body over Glen’s.

“Hope the cops don’t come through to find you like this,” he whispered as he ground his jean-clad cock against Glen’s bare ass, the fabric touching the sensitive hole. “All spread, giving yourself to me. What would you tell them—that this is exactly what you want?”

Glen nodded.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“It’s what I want.”

“Because you were bad?”

“Yes, very.”

“On purpose.”

“Yes.” A hard swallow. “I wanted this. Please.”

“Then don’t move.”

The boy’s body was tensed up from so many different emotions, the least of which was sexual need. This was about being tied, the anticipation, and Derek drew it out by taking off his shirt and unzipping his jeans slowly. Put a condom on and grabbed some lube from the front seat. Watched Glen try to steady his body as his cock hung in the air, no doubt wanting any kind of friction and finding none.

When Glen finally stilled, he slapped Glen’s ass twice—hard slaps to each cheek—and heard the low gasp of pleasure. A third and fourth rang through the air and Glen cursed and received two more, even as Derek kept a firm hand on the boy’s lower back.

He moved to top Glen, so his cock rubbed along the seam of Glen’s ass, brushed his hole with the promise of the fucking he was about to get.

“I can do anything I want to you,” Derek whispered, ran a hand in Glen’s hair. “Little boy would like that, wouldn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Glen’s voice was husky, heavy with every wish he held.

“Spread your legs farther,” Derek ordered, and Glen complied. He spread some lube on his fingers and his cock, worked one then two inside Glen while still remaining mostly on top of him. Moved them in and out, brushing his prostate a couple of times—loving the responses he was getting. “I want you ready for me. Begging for it.”

“Please.” It was more a growl than a plea, a demand that couldn’t be ignored. The space was small with their two bodies—and between his covering Glen’s and the fact that his wrists were tied, he was giving Glen the experience of being totally immobile. He pushed inside, heard Glen’s sharp intake of breath.

“You’re big…so goddamned big,” he said finally when Derek was halfway inside.

“And I’m not stopping. You don’t want me to.”

“God, yes, keep going,” Glen breathed as Derek pushed the rest of the way in until he was buried up to his balls inside the boy. Glen was so damned tight and hot, his ass contracting around Derek’s cock, milking him without Derek even having to move. But Glen wanted him to move, pushed back into his cock as much as he could and murmured, “Derek…”

It was part plea, part prayer, and with that, Derek pinned him down hard and took him fast. Glen, having no quarter or choice in how he was being claimed, simply put his head down and let himself be ridden the way Derek wanted to.

“Don’t you come yet,” he told Glen as he slammed his prostate repeatedly, watched the tension in Glen’s back begin to dissipate just from the way he was being held.