If It Drives (A Market Garden Tale)

  Cal nodded. “Please do.”

  Nick pushed away from the table and went around to where all the necessities were laid out. James squeezed his eyes shut and mouthed a few obscenities. At least, Cal assumed they were obscenities. Probably colourful ones, if he knew him.

  “I didn’t hear that, sir.” He started unbuckling his belt, watching James squirm as the buckle rattled and leather hissed across leather. “What did you say?”

  “N-nothing.” James winced. “Just . . . muttering to myself.”

  “That’s not a very satisfactory answer.” Cal pulled off his belt and dropped it on the table beside James, just inches from his face. “Tell me what you said, sir.”

  James jumped. “I just . . . ‘oh, fuck.’ That was all it was.”

  “Mm-hmm. Looked like more than two syllables to me.”

  Renewed colour appeared in James’s cheeks. “I . . .”

  Nick dropped the condom and lube on top of Cal’s belt. “Now, James. You’re not trying to weasel out of admitting that you called one or both of us a sadistic motherfucker or something similar, are you?”

  More colour.

  Cal clicked his tongue. “James, James, James. We just went through this. What happens if you don’t answer me properly?”

  James grimaced. “I have to go to the other side of the table.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Cal stroked James’s hair, loving the way the tender gesture contradicted the Nick-like sadism in his tone. “So are you going to answer us? Or are you going to take a walk?”

  James hesitated. Then he exhaled. “Yes, I was muttering to myself and said ‘oh, fuck, you twisted sons of bitches.’”

  Nick pressed his lips together, obviously biting back a laugh.

  Cal chuckled. “That sounded like a bit of an attitude to me. How about you?”

  Nick cleared his throat and schooled his expression. “Sounded like a lot of attitude to me.”

  “Hmm.” Cal kept stroking James’s hair with his gloved hand. “But he did behave and answer me when he was supposed to, so I can’t really punish him, can I?”

  “Well, he answered you.” Nick stroked his chin thoughtfully, grinning down at James’s alarmed expression. “But he still called us both twisted sons of bitches. Which, okay, the shoe fits. But . . .” He arched his eyebrow.

  This time, James said loud and clear, “Oh fucking hell.”

  Cal slapped his arse. “Is that an attitude I hear, sir?”

  “N-no. It’s not. I swear.”

  “Good.” Cal leaned down and picked up the condom. He dragged it across the felt, letting the foil hiss over the fabric, and James’s eyes followed it as Cal drew lazy figure eights in front of his face. Cal slid his other hand over James’s arse and down between his legs. James winced, closing his eyes as Cal teased his probably very uncomfortable balls.

  “What do you think, sir?” He squeezed just enough to hopefully screw with James’s ability to concentrate. “Should I fuck you like this? Bent over the table with your cock and balls all tied up?”

  James whimpered again. His brow furrowed, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

  “Someone’s forgetting the rules,” Cal taunted. “Answer me.”

  “I . . .” James swept his tongue across his lips. “Fuck, I can’t think.”

  “Hmm.” Cal looked at Nick. “Was that the answer to my question?”

  Nick shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think that’s the answer we were looking for.”

  James swore under his breath.

  Cal squeezed James’s balls hard enough to make him swear a little louder this time. Then he grinned. “Sounds like someone is getting fucked over the other side of the table.”

  “Please.”

  Cal hesitated at the plea, but James didn’t seem in any real distress. And they had safewords, after all.

  He patted James’s arse and stepped away. “Move.”

  James straightened a bit, shoulders up as if he expected to be hit, then a bit more. After his extended time bent over and possibly a bit of disorientation—half arousal and half distraction from his balls—Cal wasn’t going to rush James, though he stayed close enough to remind him of the order.

  When James stood, he looked supremely fuckable in his flustered, dishevelled state. His hair was all over the place, face flushed and sweaty, pupils blown. He looked at Cal with that wide-eyed expression he had during sex, and Cal was tempted to take off the sunglasses, but he didn’t. He needed them for his own protection, his own mask and reassurance.

  I’m not going to fail you this time.

  “Move.” Cal crossed his arms in front of his chest, hands on his biceps.

  James shook his head a little as if dazed, then half turned. With his trousers pooled around his ankles, all he managed was a shuffle. Those small, careful movements shifted the weights dangling from his balls, and the tightness around his eyes and lips betrayed the discomfort, probably pain. Well, Cal couldn’t have handled it, but as Nick had explained, pain became something entirely different when a masochist like James was turned on.

  Cal walked slowly at James’s side, ready to step in if James fell, keeping his own jaw tight at the expression of pain and the harsh breaths. A couple times, it looked as if James couldn’t go on, but he gathered himself every time.

  When he’d rounded the second corner, he was sweaty and shaking, but his determination to follow the order made Cal’s chest swell with pride.

  “Down.”

  James looked back into his face for a long moment. Something almost cracked in Cal—compassion, and something deeper, too vast to be expressed. Thank God, James bent over and took the same position he’d held on the other side. He winced when the weights shifted again, but obeyed.

  “Good, sir.” Cal stroked James’s hair, and the man relaxed, almost melting against the table. “Legs further apart.”

  James could only spread his legs so far with his trousers still around his ankles, but Cal enjoyed watching him try. And he did try, pushing his feet as far apart as he could.

  “Good. Now stay just like that.”

  Nick was still on the other side of the table, and he slid the condom and lube closer to James’s face. James gulped. When Cal picked up the condom, James closed his eyes, but he didn’t make any comments, whispered or otherwise.

  Cal set both the lube and the unopened condom on James’s back. Then he stepped behind him and undid his trousers. He pushed them over his hips, boxers and all, and when they landed at his feet with a quiet thud, James sucked in a hiss of breath.

  Across the table from them, the overhead light casting an interesting glow on his face, Nick grinned. He was visibly hard, a thick ridge pressing against the front of his leather trousers just above the edge of the table. Cal had a feeling that Spencer wouldn’t know what hit him later this evening.

  Cal peeled off one glove and dropped it on the felt. James squirmed, making the weights and chains jingle again. The second glove landed beside his face, and James closed his eyes and exhaled.

  Cal picked the condom up off James’s back, tore the wrapper, and rolled on the condom. When he picked up the lube, James’s back bowed slightly, as if he were searching for the dull weight that had been there for a minute or two. The bottle’s top clicked. James bit his lip. Cal did the same, if only to keep himself in check. No faster, heavier breathing. No reaction to anything—not the lube, not the anticipation—because he had to appear to be in absolute control.

  He dropped the bottle of lube on top of his gloves. When he put his bare hand on James’s hip to steady himself, he somehow kept from gasping at the first skin to skin contact they’d had all night. He took a slow, deep breath, then let it out just as slowly, and guided his cock to James’s arse.

  He was tempted to tease James with his fingers, but James liked it when he fucked him this way. He enjoyed the burn and the stretching. Obviously he wasn’t opposed to pain; though he winced every time the weights tugged at his cock and balls, he
was anything but miserable.

  Cal pushed against him. James bore down and pushed back, and he gasped as Cal breached him. Cal worked his way in, perhaps with more force than usual, and the low groans told him James loved it. There were whimpers of pain in there too, but Cal couldn’t tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began. Or if, for James, just like Spencer, they were one and the same.

  Once he’d hilted himself completely inside James, he picked up speed. He fucked him hard enough to make the pool table groan beneath them. James clawed at the felt; he tried to thrust back against Cal, but in this position, there was nothing he could do but stand there and take it. Take it fast, take it slow. Deep strokes, shallow strokes. It didn’t matter if James wanted it slow and easy or hard and fast, he’d get whatever Cal wanted to give him.

  Cal gritted his teeth and fucked James hard, and then he slapped him on the arse.

  “Oh, God!” James bucked against him, nails digging into the table as he sought some kind of purchase on the flat surface. The weights jingled in time with Cal’s thrusts, and James had to be painfully hard by now. His moans sounded more like sobs. Alarm almost slowed Cal down, but he glanced at Nick, who nodded, grinning at him.

  “Good thing that cock cage won’t let you come,” Nick taunted. “Bet you’d like to come with him fucking you like that, wouldn’t you?”

  James moaned, his body almost completely limp on the table.

  Cal grabbed James’s hair and jerked his head back. “He asked you a question, sir.”

  “I can’t . . .” James’s knuckles were white, his voice broken. “Think. I can’t think.”

  “Just answer the question.” Cal slowed down, because damn, he was close himself and ready to lose it any moment now, and he didn’t want to come before James had yielded just that little bit more. “Do you remember the question?” He tightened his fingers in James’s hair, pulling hard enough to make him wince.

  “Yes! Yes. Ohgodpleaseletmecome.” The words came out as a tortured release of breath.

  Nick slowly walked around the table to their side, tilted his head to study James like a curiosity and nothing more, though the bulge in his trousers really messed with that illusion. “That’s not exactly what I asked.”

  James needed a few moments to gather his concentration before he made another attempt at answering. “Yes. Yes I would. I’m so close. Please tell him . . .”

  Nick laughed. It was chilling, sexy, and arrogant. “I’m not your master, James. Your master is the guy ramming your arse and driving you up the wall. You’ll have to beg him.”

  James groaned and looked back at Cal, his eyes burning with need. That expression alone made Cal want to take off the weights and the rings; he was so ready to come, too. Coming with James would feel so good. He wanted to blow James’s mind, wanted to give him what he needed so badly. But James hadn’t begged him yet, and Nick had made it very clear that that would be what it took.

  “Callum.” James gave a pained sob when Cal thrust harder in answer. “Please let me come. Please. I’ll do . . . anything. Please.” His voice seemed so small, without any pretence, so defenceless that Cal wanted nothing more than to kiss him and fuck him.

  “Anything what?”

  “Anything you want. Whatever. I’m yours.”

  Oh God. Oh God. Those words ran like liquid electricity all through Cal’s body, and he almost came from that alone.

  He bit his lips to keep control, but he was way, way too close, so he slowed down and reached between James’s legs. He pulled the fastening open on the first strap, and the second, then took hold of the rings, almost shocked by how hot James’s cock was. Getting the rings off wasn’t easy and required almost more concentration than Cal had left, but he managed to get them past James’s cockhead. When he brushed the glans with his palm, James bucked and very nearly came, tightening all around him.

  He let the contraption fall, weights and chain and all, and maybe it was just the relief, maybe it was that single stroke of his hand—nothing more than freeing his cock, but James tightened again and shuddered and came, his muscles squeezing Cal’s cock until it bordered on pain, so Cal moved and thrust against that strength. When he came too, it was quite literally a blaze of light and near pain, tunnel vision and whiteout, pumping into James over and over as if his body had forgotten how not to.

  James collapsed all the way onto the table, a sweaty, humbled mess. Cal barely had enough sense left to secure the condom when he pulled out, and even he needed to steady himself against the table. He stepped back, nearly forgetting he still had his trousers around his ankles, but he caught himself, using the edge of the table for support.

  He leaned down and kissed the hot, sweat-dampened skin on the back of James’s neck. “You did well. Very good.” Another light kiss. “We’re done.”

  James exhaled. “Thank you.”

  Cal pushed himself upright. He took off the condom and picked up his trousers, but couldn’t figure out what to do with the condom.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him.” Nick motioned towards the bathroom at the other end of the room. “Go ahead.”

  “Thanks.” Cal was so out of breath, he could barely form the word. He took care of the condom as quickly as he could, and made sure he was a little less dishevelled. The bathroom was dimmer than the other room, so he took off his sunglasses and left them beside the sink. Then he grabbed a hand towel and dampened it with warm water for James.

  When he returned, James was still slumped over the table. Nick was standing beside him, running his fingers through James’s hair. It always amazed Cal how quickly Nick could turn from unabashed sadist to someone so gentle; he could be simply adorable with Spencer, and watching him now with James made Cal’s heart melt. Melt, and at the same time, clench a little. Jealousy? Get your hands off my man?

  Cal shook his head and pushed the thoughts away. He and Nick both helped James onto his feet, and James murmured a “thank you.”

  “You all right?” Cal asked.

  James nodded as Cal wiped him down. “I’ll be . . . I’ll be fine.” He pulled up his trousers and boxers. “Just need to catch my breath.”

  Cal nodded towards the bathroom. “Take a moment. Clean yourself up.” He paused. “You okay on your feet?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Cal glanced at Nick, who responded with a nod. Cal gestured at the bathroom again, and he and Nick watched as James slowly shuffled towards it.

  Once James was out of earshot, Nick turned to Cal. “Make sure he drinks some water, and just relaxes for a while. He wasn’t too far into subspace, so he doesn’t have to come down as much as he would have to if we’d really beaten the crap out of him.”

  Cal grinned. “Maybe next time.”

  Nick chuckled. “Maybe. I don’t think you’ll need my help, though.” He gestured in the direction James had gone. “Looks like you’ve got a pretty good handle on topping him.”

  Cal swallowed, his heart sinking a little.

  “Something wrong?” Nick asked.

  Cal shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, when we’re like this”—he tapped a knuckle on the billiards table where he’d had James bent and begging—“it’s easy. It just happens like this is how it’s supposed to be.”

  Nick rested his hip against the table. “So the problem isn’t here? When you’re playing?”

  “I guess not. I mean, I’m still learning the ropes, as it were, but once we get into this, it works.” He sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. “But we’re on some weird footing the rest of the time.”

  “You’re walking into uncharted territory. Spencer and I went through the same thing. You have to make some adjustments, figure out what you both want.”

  “Right. But James is my employer. That complicates things a little.”

  Nick smiled. “Spencer was my client. Talk it over with him, and see where it goes. Because this”—he nodded towards the table he was leaning against—“is obviously natural for both of
you.”

  “It is.” Cal returned the smile. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Anytime.” Nick pulled out his mobile as he pushed away from the table again. “I’ll leave you to take care of him. You remember everything I told you about aftercare, right?”

  Maybe not everything you told me, but definitely everything you showed me.

  And hopefully James and I don’t fuck up the afterglow. Again.

  “Yeah, I remember. Thanks.”

  “Good. I’m going to call a cab and show myself out.” Nick winked. “Spencer’s going to be waiting for me.”

  “Have fun.”

  “Always do.”

  Nick slipped out a second before James emerged from the bathroom. James looked much more like himself, but he was still obviously ruffled. His hair was straighter, minus a few out of place strands. His shirt was untucked, which it never was. And his eyes—God, his eyes—were glazed and heavy-lidded, the pupils still blown.

  Cal touched his arm. “How do you feel?”

  James smiled. “I feel great.” Then he looked around. “Where’s Nick?”

  “He’s gone for the evening.” Cal put his arm around James’s waist. “Why don’t we go up to the bedroom and relax for a little while?”

  James leaned into him, softer, more affectionate than he normally was. Cal liked him that way. Liked him a great deal that way. With all of James’s defences blown apart, he seemed like his best self right now. “Come, let’s go.”

  They climbed the stairs up to the ground floor and then further up to the bedroom. When James walked straight to the bed, Cal chuckled. “You can get more comfortable if you want.”

  James nodded. He pulled his tie open and fiddled the cufflinks out, then placed both on the wardrobe and kicked off his shoes.

  Cal shed his own shoes, too. When James lay down on the bed, Cal brought one of the bottles of water over, handed it to him, and then joined him on the bed. He could have slept—his body was tired and sated enough—but his mind was still chewing on questions.

  How could he make everything else feel as natural as the domination and submission? They weren’t anywhere near boyfriends—this didn’t feel like a relationship at all, and from the outside, it probably looked incredibly strange. He was still getting paid by the man he fucked. That would never stop feeling weird.