Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

Jack sat at the bar, nursing a beer as he watched the bartender dry the glasses behind the counter. Feeling his eyes on him, Drew looked up. “Get you another?” he asked in that sexy British accent of his. He looked at Jack’s bandaged knuckles, but didn’t ask, for which Jack was silently grateful.

Was that accent for real? Jack eyed Drew. He was a hot looking guy, with those warm eyes and ready smile. Jack had tried in a casual way to get something going with the guy, but it never worked. Drew turned that same smile on the others at the Triangle Bar. He was probably too smart to get involved with a customer.

Jack drained his glass and pushed it forward. “Sure, I’ll have another.”

Someone slid onto the stool beside Jack. Turning to him, Jack said, “Hey, good to see you, buddy.” Eric was one of the few regulars at the gay bar that Jack hadn’t tried to engage in casual sex. Maybe it was because they were too much alike—each always on the make, scoping out the next potential conquest.

Eric didn’t introduce the guy who had sat down with him, and Jack didn’t ask. The guy wasn’t bad looking, though he looked older and less buff than the usual hot twinks Eric liked to hook up with.

Eric, unlike Drew, didn’t hesitate to ask, “What the hell happened to you? Get in a fight?”

“Yeah, but you should see the other guy,” Jack said, hauling out the tired, old line with a deadpan expression.

Eric lifted his eyebrows but didn’t comment further. Instead he said, “I’d like you to meet Chandler. A very dear, very good friend of mine. We’ve only recently reconnected.” Eric put his hand over Chandler’s and they beamed at one another.

Chandler nodded toward Jack. “Nice to meet you.”

Jack noted the way the two guys were leaning into each other, the look of pride and—what else was it on Eric’s face when he looked at Chandler? No, no way. Next week Eric would show up with a new guy. He didn’t do love, same as Jack.

“Chandler and I used to play darts back in college. I’ve challenged him to a dart game. Want to play?”

Jack held up his bandaged hand with a rueful shake of the head. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. “Jack Harris,” he said automatically, not recognizing the number on the screen.

“Jack.”

Jack’s stomach gripped at the sound of that distinctive, gravelly voice, a voice he hadn’t heard in over a decade. “Rusty tells me you called. How’s my boy after all these years?”

 

The man who opened the door of the old brownstone was a fifty-something guy of medium height. He had a pleasant face and auburn hair. “Come in,” he said, taking a step back and indicating Jack should enter. “You must be Jack.”

“Yeah.” Jack stamped his boots against the doormat. The walk from the subway had been longer than he’d expected, and the snow had been falling for long enough to stick. He pulled his snow-encrusted cap from his head and shook it before stepping inside.

The smells in the small front hall took Jack back to his time with Alexei in a way no amount of reminiscing could.  It smelled of fresh bread and olive oil, with a hint of cinnamon and patchouli.

The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Rusty Dougherty. We spoke on the phone.” It was then Jack noticed the black leather cuffs secured by silver clips on Rusty’s wrists, and the thick collar around his neck, a D ring at its center.

He forced his eyes to Rusty’s face and raised his own bandaged hand with an apologetic grin. “I, uh, had a little accident.”

“Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re okay.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll be good as new in a day or two.”

“I’ll see if Alexei’s up to coming out or if he wants you to go back to his room. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m good.”

Rusty led Jack into a living room crowded with faded silk-upholstered furniture surrounded by small tables cluttered with knickknacks and framed photographs. Jack perched on a sofa, fiddling with his damp cap and feeling like he was twenty-one again, all jitters and anticipation.

It was going on ten o’clock at night. He was surprised when Alexei had invited him to come over right away, but hadn’t argued. You didn’t argue with Alexei Spiros.

Jack glanced at the photographs on the cluttered end table beside him. One was of Alexei and Rusty, sitting side by side on a beach with impossibly blue water behind them. Alexei had aged well, his smile white against his tan skin, dark eyes crinkled with laughter beneath thick brows. His long hair was pulled back, tendrils of it caught by the camera blowing in the sea breeze. Once jet-black, Jack could see traces of silver and gray woven through it. Alexei wore a striped T-shirt. Rusty, beside him in the photo, was bare-chested, gold hoops glinting at his nipples, wearing the same collar he now wore around his neck. They looked ridiculously happy.

A second picture caught Jack’s eye. He picked it up and brought it close for more careful inspection. It was a black and white photo of Rusty. He was naked, save for thick chains crisscrossed artfully around his body. He was standing, his arms stretched and secured overheard, facing the camera with an expression of such intense devotion and adoration that Jack caught his breath.

Had he ever felt that way about anyone?

Would he ever?

“Alexei’s ready to see you, if you’d like to come on back to his bedroom.” Rusty startled Jack, who nearly dropped the picture. He set it back down beside the other, feeling clumsy as two of the frames toppled over. He hurried to right them. Rusty watched him, an enigmatic smile on his face, saying nothing.

Jack followed Rusty down a narrow hall to their bedroom. Alexei was propped up on pillows in the large bed in silk pajamas, a black-on-black striped satin duvet covering his legs. His hair had more silver in it than in the beach photo, but his brows were still dark over eyes that sparkled with light and intelligence.

Jack stood uncertainly at the end of the bed. Alexei beamed at him. “Jack. I would have known you in an instant. You look fantastic. How has life been treating you?”

“Pretty good. I own my own auto shop. I’ve developed a nice niche business working on high-end cars. Porsches are my specialty.” While Jack spoke, Rusty moved to stand beside Alexei. He plumped a pillow and poured water from a blue crystal decanter into a matching glass beside it.

Alexei smiled at Rusty fondly, reaching out to touch his arm. The easy intimacy of the gesture made Jack’s heart ache.

A hot, nervous energy was grinding its way through his gut. He bounced a little on the balls of his feet. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why had he even come here, anyway? He didn’t even know Alexei anymore. What the hell had he been thinking?

Alexei was watching him. He turned to Rusty. “Give us a few minutes alone, okay?”

Rusty nodded, gave Alexei’s pillow one last pat, and disappeared from the room.

“Come, sit beside me here on the bed. I apologize for receiving you like this. Rusty is so over-protective. I could definitely have gotten out of bed and come out to greet you properly, but he’s like a jailer.” Alexei laughed fondly. “You’d think he was the Master and I the boy.”

“He’s your boy then?” Jack asked, though of course he knew the answer.

“Yes, my boy. My perfect, obedient, delightful sub. And my husband and my best friend.”

Jack said nothing. His bandaged hand itched and throbbed. He put his good hand over it. Alexei followed his movement. “What happened to your hand, Jack? And what brings you to me after all these years? I don’t know why, but I have a feeling the two are connected.”

Jack didn’t respond right away. Thoughts were tumbling through his mind, moving just out of reach each time he tried to formulate them. “I’m not really sure why I’m here. It’s just…I don’t know. I’m…confused. I’ve been thinking about you lately. Wondering how you’re doing. But, more than that—you were always the one, way back when, who had a knack for getting into my head. For figuring out what the hell was going on in there when I had no clue.” He shrugged apologetically.

“I’m glad you thought of me, Jack. I always regretted your rather abrupt departure, though I understood your reasons at the time.”

“Yeah. That whole scene just wasn’t for me. I’m my own man. I like to play the field, you know, keep my options open.”

“You never connected with a Dom?”

Jack gave a startled laugh. “A Dom? You kidding me? Jack Harris submits to no man. I’m not some sniveling sub boy, groveling at his Master’s feet. I mean…” Jack trailed off, embarrassed, aware he’d put his foot in his mouth.

Alexei shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “Jack, it’s me. You don’t have to do that around me.”

“Do what?” Jack crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

Alexei reached out and put his hand on Jack’s forearm, gently pulling until Jack let his arms fall to his sides. “You know better than that, I know you do. You weren’t into the whole leather scene. I understand that. But you of all people know D/s is as individual and personal as any expression of love. You were threatened by the trappings and role play some of the guys were into—”

“Not threatened,” Jack interrupted. “I just didn’t like it. Not my thing.”

“Fine, okay. My point is, that doesn’t take away from who you are inside. What you need.” He reached forward to stroke Jack’s cheek. If anyone else had done that, Jack would have jerked away. But not Alexei. For some reason, with him it was okay.

“Let me ask you something, Jack. Are you happy? Do you feel comfortable with who you are now? Is playing the field, as you call it, meeting your basic needs? Do you have serenity in your life?”

Serenity.

Jack felt a muscle jumping in his jaw. He clenched his fists, and felt the skin on his knuckles tear. He winced in pain as the warm blood seeped against the gauze. Embarrassed, he tucked the hand between his knees.

Alexei nodded as if Jack had spoken aloud. “I thought not.” He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. His touch was warm and comforting. Jack felt something ease inside, as if a part of him had been waiting all these years for just such a calming touch.

“Get on your knees, Jack.”

Jack jerked his head up. “What?”

Alexei pointed to the floor. “Kneel up. You remember? When you were agitated, I would have you assume that position, palms up on your thighs, eyes straight ahead. Clear your mind, let the negative energy flow from your body.”

“Are you serious? I haven’t done that since we were together. That’s not my thing. I haven’t done any of that in years and years.”

“That’s precisely why you need to do it now. Go on. If it doesn’t feel right, you can get up immediately.”

Jack stared at Alexei, his body warring with his mind. His limbs were tingling, eager to obey Alexei’s command. But his mind was screaming. No fucking way would he get on his knees, not for anyone. Not even Alexei Spiros.

“Jack,” Alexei said softly. “I know you. No matter how many years it’s been, some things don’t change. Your true nature remains the same, even if that’s not a convenient truth for you. You didn’t call me just to say hi and talk about old times. You came because you needed to reconnect with a basic part of yourself, before it’s lost to you forever.”

Jack said nothing. His eyelids felt heavy and hot, as if tears lurked just behind them. Which was ridiculous—Jack hadn’t cried since he was a child.

“Close your eyes a moment and take a deep breath.” Alexei’s voice was warm and soothing. “Let it out slowly.”

Jack obeyed, compelled by the tone in Alexei’s voice, and by the memories of what they’d once shared. “Trust me.” Alexei’s voice soothed him. “Trust yourself. Get on your knees and kneel up.”

Jack slipped from the bed and knelt, feeling awkward as he settled into a position he hadn’t assumed in years. He straightened his back and placed his hands on his thighs, palms up, ignoring the blood smearing on his jeans. Of their own accord, his shoulders went back and he tilted his chin forward.

“That’s better.”

Jack closed his eyes. Alexei’s voice took him back through the decades. He felt displaced to a time and place when life was yet to happen to him, when anything was still possible.

He felt Alexei’s fingers on his cheek. They were dry and cool against his skin. Alexei’s hand moved, pushing the hair back from Jack’s forehead. Jack leaned into the hand, his eyes still closed.

“Who is he, Jack? Who’s got you in this state?”

Jack’s eyes flew open. “What?”

Alexei sat back, his smile knowing. “You used to get like this. I remember. All coiled up—ready to strike. Watching you was like watching a cobra. Invariably there was someone behind it—some guy who had pissed you off, or who you wanted but couldn’t have. You’re still going at life the same way, aren’t you? Gripping it in your teeth like a bulldog and shaking it till nothing’s left. You still haven’t learned to let go, even after all these years. You haven’t found the serenity you need, because you’ve never accepted what and who you are.”

Jack stiffened. What the hell was he doing, kneeling on the floor like a fucking sub boy? He stood abruptly, a rush of white-hot anger pumping in his brain. Alexei was making a fool of him.

“Look, Alexei,” he said between clenched teeth. “I told you—I walked away from that scene a long time ago. I don’t do the whole yes Sir, no Sir, please Sir, may I have another routine. I’m my own man. Jack Harris bows to no one. That kneeling bit—that’s just some kind of meditative bullshit. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

“Okay.” Alexei patted the bed beside him. “Sit down again. Please.”

When Jack obeyed, Alexei reached out and touched the bandage. Blood was seeping through and Jack tried to cover it with his other hand.

“Talk to me, Jack. How did that happen?”

Jack forced a laugh. “You should see the other—”

“Stop it.” Alexei’s voice carried command and, despite himself, Jack closed his mouth. “It’s not necessary, Jack. I know you. Yes, many years have got behind us, but you and I—what we shared transcends time. We connected and the link was never broken, even if you left the life and never looked back. That’s why you called me. You needed to reestablish that link. Something’s going on in your life, Jack. Call it a midlife crisis, call it what you want. But you came here for a reason. Now tell me the truth. How did you do that to your hand?”

“I—I punched the wall.” Jack’s voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat.

“Who is he?”

“Who is who? There’s nobody. I have nobody.” What was Alexei’s problem? Why was he hassling Jack like this? If it had been anyone else… Jack took a breath and forced a smile. “Look. I don’t do relationships. The few times I’ve made the mistake of trying, I just fuck it up. I’m not cut out for that crap.”

Alexei stared with such tenderness that Jack suddenly got that choked up feeling again. “Just before you lost control and hit that wall,” Alexei persisted. “What was going on?”

The image of Ronan standing in Jack’s shop with that haughty expression on his face, marched itself into Jack’s mind. “It’s not a big deal about my hand. It’s just a little scrape. I was pissed off at an unreasonable customer. I was, I don’t know, just letting off steam. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until my assistant stopped me.”

“So you hit your hand bloody, but you didn’t know you were doing it until someone else came in to stop you?”

“Yeah.” Jack stared at Alexei, unnerved.

“And this doesn’t strike you as a problem, Jack? Everything’s fine?” He looked at Jack’s bandage, now bright red with blood. “Rusty, come in here will you?”

A moment later Rusty rushed in. “Yes, Alexei. You okay?” he said breathlessly.

Alexei smiled. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not dying, I promise. It’s not me. Jack here needs some attention. Could you take our guest to the bathroom and see about fixing that up for him?” Turning to Jack, he added, “Don’t worry, he’s a pro.”

Jack stood, embarrassed and confused. He followed Rusty into the bathroom. As Rusty removed the bloody gauze, he grinned at Jack. “Piece of cake compared to what I’m used to. No fur to deal with, and I trust you don’t bite?”

“Huh?”

Rusty laughed. “I’m a vet. My clientele isn’t always so accommodating, especially when they’re hurt.”

“I see.” Jack looked Rusty over as he worked. He had a kind face, but more than that, he looked happy—at peace with himself.

“We’ll leave those butterflies in place,” Rusty said. “I don’t want to tear the wound open by removing them. I’ll just augment a little.” Jack was glad Rusty, at least, didn’t ask how he’d hurt himself.

When they returned to the bedroom, Alexei was leaning back against the pillows, his eyes closed. He looked pale, the skin around his eyes sagging and papery. He opened his eyes as they entered and smiled, joy lighting his face.

“Come to me, boy,” Alexei said softly to Rusty, and Jack recognized between them the shift from lovers to Master and sub.

Without speaking, Rusty unbuttoned his flannel shirt and took it off, folding it neatly over a chair. As if he wasn’t even aware Jack was in the room, he turned his back to Alexei, bringing his wrists together at the small of his back. Alexei leaned toward him and connected the dangling clips between the cuffs. Jack could see the gold at Rusty’s nipples, glinting in the lamplight.

Rusty turned and knelt on the floor beside the bed, his wrists linked behind him. Alexei tugged on one of the gold hoops at Rusty’s chest, pulling until Rusty drew in a sharp breath. Alexei subjected the second nipple to the same treatment. When he let go, Rusty’s expression eased into an adoring smile.

“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered. He lowered his head, resting it on the bed beside Alexei, who ruffled his hair, a look of deep affection on his face.

“You’re welcome. Lots more later tonight, I promise.”

I want that.

The words slipped into Jack’s mind before he had a chance to censor them. His body actually ached with longing he didn’t quite understand, or more accurately, wasn’t ready to face. He stood at the end of the bed, feeling uncomfortable, not sure if he was supposed to go or stay.

Alexei looked up at Jack with a smile. “I’m glad you came by, Jack. It’s been too long. Far too long.” He stroked Rusty’s hair as his eyes searched Jack’s face. “Listen, I want you to do me a favor.”

Jack waited. What could Alexei possibly want from him? He had everything a man could want, or so it seemed to Jack as he watched Rusty kneeling so serenely on the floor beside him.

“I want you to meet someone. Someone who I think could help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yes. Jack, I think it’s time. It’s time for you to explore things maybe you were too young before to appreciate. You were a kid back then. You weren’t ready for the power of a D/s connection. I think you’re ready now, but you don’t know how to start, where to look. I agree with you—the club scene’s not for you. The leather community—even though it’s a lot more flexible now, I still don’t see you there. What you need is some one-on-one experience. A chance to explore the feelings and sensations you’ve been denying yourself for so long.”

Embarrassed, Jack glanced at Rusty. “I told you, Alexei, I don’t do that stuff anymore.”

“That might be the reason you’re so miserable. You never really gave it a chance, Jack. There’s so much more to D/s than just whips and chains. I think you might be ready now to find that out for yourself. I think that’s why you’re here.”

Jack opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out.

Alexi continued, “It’s not something you stop needing. But you’ve been denying it so long, and your anger is a symptom of your denial. I know you don’t believe that yet. That’s where the favor comes in.” He paused and Jack waited, tensing.

“I want you to meet someone. He’s a professional Dominant and a good friend of mine. He’s skilled at breaking through the kind of emotional defenses you’ve built up over the years. He understands the intrinsic need someone like you has to give up control, to experience the cathartic release of erotic pain. If you’re able to trust this man, and you can take it from me, he is supremely trustworthy, I think you’ll find the experience an eye opener. This man can free you through bondage. He can take you through the physical pain of erotic suffering to reach that higher plane of peace and serenity I know you long for.”

What the fuck?

Jack stared at his old mentor, barely processing the mumbo jumbo he was tossing around. He had only the vaguest notion what the hell the old man was talking about. His mouth was dry and his palms were sweating. He tried to draw a breath but found the room was suddenly hot, the air too close. Still, he couldn’t deny the fact his jeans had become too tight in the crotch.

The physical pain of erotic suffering was something he could understand, and even relate to. Though he’d rejected the whole BDSM leather scene, he couldn’t deny the thrill he’d gotten all those years ago from a good, hard flogging. Not only did it get his rocks off, but he’d prided himself on being able to take it like a man. But was there, as Alexei promised, more to it than that?

“I have a small house in Westchester County where we go sometimes to get away, or host weekend play parties,” Alexei continued. “I would like you to commit to one night there with my friend. Rusty would take you there. To make it easier for you to submit, certain decisions would be made for you. But you would always have the right of final refusal. I only ask that you listen to this man with an open mind and be willing to try. I want your promise that you’ll submit, just for that brief time, to whatever he deems best for you. What do you say? Will you do that for me—for yourself?”

Jack’s mouth opened as he prepared in kneejerk fashion to refuse. Was the guy out of his mind? Let himself be tied up and whipped and god knew what else by some stranger, just because Alexei thought it would be a good idea?

“Stop the noise in your head,” Alexei said, as if privy to it. “Take a moment and then answer with your heart. Will you agree to what I have asked? And if you do, you need to go all the way. Don’t run away before you’ve given him a chance. More importantly, don’t run away from what you know in your heart is right for you.”

Jack stared into Alexei’s calm, dark eyes. Then he looked at Rusty, at his collar and cuffs, at his serene expression as he rested his head so peacefully beside his lover, and felt a longing so sharp it nearly made him gasp.

“Yes.”