Chapter 10
TEN
Conrad
Tav’s eyes were calm, his body at complete rest underneath mine. I never would have thought he’d get to this point, not compared to when I first met him, when that energy had been simmering, ready to unleash.
His eyes, which often looked as if they were swirling, mixing, storming in a maelstrom of color, were placid now.
Peaceful. He was smart too, intuitive. I liked how he thought before he spoke, not wasting words and not talking just to hear himself speak.
Every day, all day, I was surrounded by men who talked without listening, without hearing themselves.
It was exhausting. Tav was a breath of fresh air.
Fresh air I hadn’t realized existed. Which now seemed as essential to breathing as oxygen.
I pulled back, running my hands down his forearms, over his biceps, squeezing the muscles of his chest. My ass ached a little as I shifted off.
I didn’t bottom much. In fact, I rarely did.
Not because I didn’t like it, but I rarely found men that I wanted to do it with, who I felt could make it good for me.
Tav though… well, I’d known he’d be amazing. Just like him, his cock was long and thick. At rest now, Tav’s thick cock lay soft against his thigh. Hard, it was a work of art.
I could get addicted to it. To Tav. To being with him, to looking into those eyes, to the control he gave me with his silent nods.
I looked away from him, cursing myself to regain control.
The ultimatum lingered in the air between us in this post-coitus haze.
I could nearly see it, this gray cloud that threatened to rain on our afterglow.
I needed a minute to gather myself, to take a breather from his bruised face and naked body so that I could be firm with him.
He’d returned to me, which meant I got something from him.
We’d agreed on this when he’d been at my office.
I didn’t bother with shoes, just slipped on a pair of jeans and a henley shirt. I glanced at Tav, who lay silent on the bed, watching me with hooded eyes. Maybe he needed a breather too. I forced myself to speak clearly. “I’m going to clean up and finish some work that I need to get done.”
Tav didn’t answer. So I pushed.
I needed to learn not to push.
“I’ll leave you there, tied up,” I said, not looking at him as I grabbed the tray off the nightstand. “Because I think you have some things you need to think about before we talk. We will talk.”
I should have been watching. If I had, I wouldn’t have missed the alarm building, the tension in his body. Instead, as soon as I finished talking, a deafening roar came from the bed.
I dropped the tray onto the floor as the entire bed began to shake. Tav bucked and twisted, fighting against the ropes, while screaming, his voice hoarse. “No! No! Stop! Red! Untie me! Untie me, now, you motherfucker. Untie me!”
His skin was flushed red, the veins in his neck and arms nearly popping out of his skin.
The headboard rattled against the wall, taking chunks of drywall with it.
I should have been scared. Tav probably outweighed me by seventy-five pounds, but all I could think was calming him, finding out what happened and making sure it never happened again.
His wrists were already rubbing raw underneath the ropes as he struggled.
I didn’t care about my bed or my wall. I cared about Tav.
I straddled his body, gripping with my thighs as he tried to buck me off. “Stop, Tav! Please!” My fingers dug into the rope to untie it, but he wasn’t helping, only make the bindings tighter and tighter as he struggled.
And his body under me was like a feral mustang, bucking and screaming, slick with a panicked sweat that scented the air with a sick tang.
I scrambled off him, falling on my ass as he continued to rage.
I flung open the top drawer of my dresser, the contents crashing to the floor.
I dug through the random assortment of objects until I found what I was looking for.
Then I was back at the side of the bed, and with two slashes of a pocketknife, Tav was free from the bed.
He shot out of the bed like the devil was on his heels, his wrists still bound, rope trailing behind him.
His feet pounded on the tile as he ran out of my bedroom and down the hall.
He was naked, so I had no idea where he thought he was going to go.
I took off after him, but even though I was fit, I was no match for Tav.
When I reached the living room, I didn’t see him anywhere.
I spun in a circle, my hands in my hair, frantic to find him.
The curtain leading out onto my balcony fluttered, and I stopped.
The large glass door to my balcony was open a crack, and when the curtain waved again, I spotted a pale, motionless form amid the black of night.
The fabric flapped in the breeze with a soft snap and with it, a cold draft wrapped around my bare feet.
I walked slowly toward the door, unsure what to do, not knowing what set off Tav and unsure if he’d go further. I didn’t even care if he hurt me at this point. I didn’t want him to hurt himself.
When I reached the door, I pulled the curtain aside, shivering at the frozen air creeping into my apartment.
Tav stood holding onto the black, wrought-iron balcony railing.
His back was heaving with every inhale, his legs braced far apart.
He was trembling, an all-over shudder that chilled me to the bone.
It could have been eighty-degrees outside, and I would have frozen solid at the sight of his terror.
Before taking a step outside, I reached over and grabbed a blanket off a chair near the door, and then I hesitated.
Tav’s hair whipped around his head as I pushed the door open wide with a soft whoosh.
With one great inhale and exhale, his head dropped forward, and he fell to his knees with a groan.
I didn’t think this time, I just acted, coming up behind him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and then falling to my knees beside him.
He was hunched over, his head in his hands, shaking uncontrollably.
I hated seeing him like this, when not long ago he’d been at such peace.
What had I done? I wrapped my arms around him, forcing his head into my neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please tell me what I did wrong and what I can do to fix it. Please.”
He didn’t speak, but his arms came around me, clutching my shoulders, his breath hot at the base of my throat.
I held him tighter, carding my fingers through his hair, rubbing his neck, his back, his biceps.
Anywhere I could reach, I touched, hoping my apology came through if not in my words, then in my hands.
“I’m sorry, Tav,” I whispered.
He shook his head and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded like broken glass. “Not your fault. This is why… fuck, I’m a mess.”
I pulled back a little and reached for his wrists. I moved the rope aside and grimaced at the raw skin. “Please come inside. I need to take care of these.”
He started trembling again, sucking in gulps of cold air.
I cupped his cheek. “Let me take care of you. No more rope, okay?”
His breath hitched, and those two-toned eyes watched me as I catalogued his body, checking for new hurts. He’d come to me injured, and I’d only succeeding in hurting him further.
“Okay,” he said, finally.
“Okay.” I pulled the blanket tighter around him, and then we rose to our feet. Tav walked with his head down, his shoulders slumped.
I shut the door to the balcony and locked it, then motioned with my head down the hall. “Go on into the bathroom. I want to get you warmed up in the tub.”
He made no sound but did as I asked. I followed him, realizing my hands were trembling from adrenaline but also from the cold.
When I reached the bathroom, I turned on the faucet to fill the whirlpool tub, then began to strip out of my clothes.
Tav watched me from under his lashes, the blanket still wrapped around his massive shoulders.
I reached for his hands and untied the rope, dropping them in the trash.
When the tub was mostly full, I stepped inside and then motioned him to follow me.
I rarely took baths. In fact, I usually used my tub for towel storage.
The occasional bloody clothes when a Soto job went south.
But today, with Tav still shaking, his eyes still darting warily, I was so glad I had it installed.
I sat him on the bottom and then began to massage his muscles, working the water into the cold skin. It pinked up quickly as he warmed.
I turned off the water and grabbed some soap and a washcloth and began to wash him.
When I reached his wrists, I dabbed at the tender skin.
I thought about how to word what I wanted to say to him, what I wanted to ask.
And I hoped I didn’t trigger any other extreme reaction.
“If you ever want to see me again, I need to know why you lost it.”
I lifted my gaze to his face. His eyes were downcast, watching my ministrations to his skin.
I waited, moving on to the other hand, figuring he’d tell me when he was ready.
I was rinsing his wrists when he spoke. “I like when you tie me up. But I like it when it’s my choice.
When I give that control to you.” He spoke slowly, staring at the water.
“But when you said about not letting me leave… it flipped a switch. It was no longer about my choice…” He chewed on his cut lip and raised eyes to me. “Does that make sense?”
It did. It made a whole lot of sense. “There’s a difference, between granting permission for it to happen and having it happen to you.”
His expression brightened a little, and my heart tripped over itself. “Yeah, that’s it. I don’t like to feel trapped. It’s too much like—” He cut himself off and blinked his eyes. “I can’t handle that, Con.”