Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
MITCH
Who the hell is this kid? And yes, this beautiful young man is a kid—barely out of his teens. I bet he’s no older than nineteen or twenty. If so, then what is he doing here, dressed like he just came off the set of Miami Vice?
I don’t play with guys that young. The last time I got involved with someone ten years younger than me, I got burned. I won’t put myself in that predicament again. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
But his eyes and his smooth facial skin… I bet the rest of his skin is still flawless—a palette I wouldn’t mind marking… No! That isn’t going to happen again, no matter that I can sense him before I even saw him, and that my dick did chubbed up the moment he stepped into my periphery.
I glare at him, silently urging him to move on, which eventually he does.
Although his reluctance is evident in every step he takes toward the bathroom.
Once he’s out of my sight, I return my attention to Danny, who’s breathing subtly shifts as his body goes from relax to slightly stiff.
He’s slipping out of subspace, and I’m dropping the ball in keeping him there.
I bend slightly and reassure the sub that he’s safe and that I’m his tether and I won’t let him fall. “Just give me five more lashes. Can you take them for me, Danny?”
“Yes, sir,” the sub utters shakily, which pleases me.
I land the flogger across his ass three times, then switch to his back for the final two hits. Danny shudders, his body constricts and a quiet groan escapes his mouth. The look on his face and the shift in his breathing tell me he’s fully there. Subspace.
I then lean in and whisper into his ear, “You’re safe. I’m here.” I glide my gloved hand over his reddened ass cheeks, up toward his welted back and through his sweat-slicked hair. Then I stroke a finger along his jaw. “Breathe,” I convey soothingly and watch him obey my command.
It’s a beautiful thing to watch—to know that I can give Danny what he needs.
After several minutes, Danny is grounded and safely out of subspace, and low murmurs of approval echo around us.
Right as I begin to loosen the bindings on Danny’s wrists, I see the boy coming out of the bathroom. He avoids eye contact with me. Good. I don’t need any incentive to pursue what isn’t for me.
When I have Danny released, I help him on the back couch where he can rest for a few moments.
Normally, I don’t do a scene in a bar, but the owner asked, and I can’t say no to Henry. He’s been a friend—a mentor, so no, I couldn’t decline the request.
Once I know that the sub is good, I head back to my friends who have been diligently watching over me for the past thirty minutes so I could lose myself in the scene. Yet, my eyes—those disobedient fuckers, automatically rove past my friends, over the sea of men, trying to spot that boy once more.
Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell is wrong with me?
I return my gaze to my friends, who are all smirking. Fucking A. They saw him too. And my reaction to him.
“Catch sight of a cutie?” Manny gives me a wink.
Roger and Clem chuckle but don’t add their two cents to Manny’s comment about my reaction to the guy with the beautiful eyes.
“Yeah, I nearly stepped in front of him as he passed us, just to get his name, but,” Josh shrugs, “I thought I would let you do your own dirty work.”
“Bite me. I don’t know what the hell you are talking about,” I lie as I grab my bottle of beer.
It’s gotten warm, and I wave it in the air to get the attention of the bartender nearest to us.
After a single nod of understanding from him, I place the bottle on the bar top and turn back to my ridiculous friends.
Then my best friend, Markus, strolls up and grins wickedly like the cat that got his cream. “His name is Jamie, he’s half Korean, half white. He has a twin sister named Jillian. Their twenty-first birthdays were just this past week and he and his friends came out tonight to celebrate.”
My mouth drops open at how much information Markus managed to get. “How do you know all this?”
He turns and points to the guy in the black and white shirt. “Do you see the handsome boy there?”
“Yeah,” I utter, as my eyes go to the man. He’s wearing a little too much shit on his face for my tastes, but he’s right up Markus’s alley. “Who is he?”
“That’s Jordi,” Markus announces with a smile. Oh, his current hook-up.
“Okay. What does your fuckboy have to do with that kid?” I ask, a little annoyed with my friend.
“He’s best friends with Jamie. And he’s no kid, Mitch. I just told you. And you can deny it all you want, but while we all watched you flogging that sub, we also saw you react to Jamie. You want him, we can tell.”
They all nod in unison.
Fuck. Why do I have to have friends who are so observant?
“He might be pretty to look at, but I don’t play nice—and you know that. He doesn’t belong in my world,” I admit, as my eyes scan the crowd near the front of the bar for one more glance at the man that is stirring my insides.
Like a moth to a flame, our eyes meet and I hold his gaze for a long moment before I spin around, ready to head toward the Gold Coast’s small back room. “I need to release some energy,” I throw over my shoulder to my friends.
“Wait. How about we get out of here and head to the Manhole?” Markus suggests. “Then we all can get our rocks off.”
“What about your fuckboy?” Manny asks, thumbing toward Jordi and the group of guys around him. But I refuse to look that way, knowing damn well I’d be snared by deep brown eyes.
Markus shrugs. “Jordi won’t mind if I ditch.” He has a sneaky look in his eyes, and I’m not sure why… Nevertheless, I’d rather use the back room at the Manhole than here.
“All right,” I say, and point to the rear exit. “I’m leaving through the back.”
With grunts of approval, my friends follow me out and everyone climbs in my car, since my Lincoln can fit all five of us.
It doesn’t take long to reach the intersection of Halsted and Roscoe.
Once I’m parked by the Manhole, we all pile out and enter the bar.
As we walk in, we’re hit with the dark gritty mood the owner has established, and I love it.
Fog from dry ice sets the tone for the dance floor, but I didn’t come here to wiggle my ass. I don’t dance.
I head to the back room, but stop when I see a familiar face behind the bar. “Charles, how the hell are you?” I stride over to my friend, clasp his outstretched hand and shake it.
“I’m doing just great, Mitch. The usual?” he asks with a genuine smile.
“Hell yes,” I reply, looking at the sparse crowd along the bar. “A little quiet tonight.”
“Give it an hour, and this place will be packed to the brim. Right before you arrived, I checked the back room and it’s pathetic. No one’s in there.” He then slides a shot of J?germeister and a bottle of beer toward me, then proceeds to fill my friends’ orders.
Since it’s nearly midnight already, I’m not sure what Charles thinks will draw more men into the place. Maybe he’s counting on the back room, where there are quite a few glory holes. That’s what makes the Manhole the best hookup bar in Chicago. And that’s the reason why I’m here.
So I wait. After a good hour of shooting the shit with my friends, the place finally begins to fill up with all sorts of men. Charles was right.
Markus heads toward the back room. I won’t be far behind him, because I came here for one thing and one thing only. First, though, I need to take the edge off my balls, so I shoot another shot and suck back the rest of my beer.
I slide off my stool when Markus returns from the back. He raises his eyebrows and comments, “The place got busy.”
“Yeah, it did.” I clap my hand on his shoulder. “Be right back,” I say to Markus, then look more closely at him. His eyes are gleaming with mischief—even more than they were at Gold Coast. I pause for a moment, not liking what I’m seeing. “What?
“Nothing.” There’s a note of sarcasm in his tone. Markus grins huge. “Have fun,” he singsongs.
I pause another beat, then turn my back on Markus. As I head to the back room, Charles calls out, “Hey, Mitch, number seven is what you want.” Then he strides to the other end of the bar.
What the fuck? Charles has never suggested a hole before. But really, I’d be an airhead not to take his advice. He knows me—knows my proclivities for dominance.
Eager now, I head back. It isn’t a room per se, but a series of knocked together hallways and turns, where every so often you’ll find a hole in the wall.
Small ones for cocks, larger ones for asses, and even bigger ones for bodies.
There are only a few of the bigger ones, and those are taken as soon as they’re free.
Me? I want a pair of lips wrapped around my dick, so I can blow my load down their throat while they gag on my length. Yeah, that’s what I want.
I follow the numbers until I reach seven. The hole is slightly bigger in diameter than the usual hole for cocks, but I’m a big man with a thick, long dick. I nod in approval. It will accommodate me easily.
After I unbuckle my belt, I unzip my leather pants and pull out my semi hard dick. I begin to stroke it with my leather gloved hand, loving the way the soft material feels against my growing shaft.
A rustling noise from behind the wall captures my attention. Still stroking my cock, I ask, “Are you there, boy?” My voice lifts at the end, but it’s more of a demand than a question.
“I’m clean,” I say clearly, making sure he understands what I want. “I don’t want to use a condom. So let me know by tapping once for no and twice for yes.”
It doesn’t take long for the guy to make up his mind, because I hear two knocks from the other side of the wall. Then a sigh reaches my ears, which makes me smile.
Charles is right, this guy is for me.
“Good. Your mouth better be open and ready for me.” With my dick nice and hard, I slide it through the hole and order, “Suck.”