Read Bound and Determined Online
Authors: Jane Davitt,Alexa Snow
pairs that were there, not seeing the running sneakers Sawyer had been
wearing at the track. He wondered where they were as he slipped out of his
jacket and hung it up on one of the empty hangers, then stepped back into the
entry hall and closed the closet door.
“Okay, here I am,” he said, spreading his arms slightly. “All yours.”
“I'm sure you are,” Sawyer said with more than a hint of the sarcasm that
had driven Sterling
nuts
in class, “but might I suggest toning down the attitude
until I've decided that I want you?”
That was a little too much like a slap in the face for Sterling's liking, and
as usual, that kind of vitriol directed at him made him defensive. Okay,
more
defensive. “I don't know why you wouldn't,” he said. “I'm great in bed—I know, I
know, you're going to wait until my birthday to find out, but that's your
decision, not mine—and I know I'm good-looking. I'm smart. I have a great
sense of humor. And I follow orders: here at eight, no drinking, had dinner at
the dining hall, and I haven't touched my cock all day.” That last was a slight
exaggeration, since it was next to impossible to take a piss without touching
his dick, but he'd followed the spirit of the rule.
“In other words, you did as you were told,” Sawyer said. “I
expect
that; it
doesn't get you any brownie points. And as for your self-proclaimed success
between the sheets…” Surprisingly, instead of an eye roll, Sterling was treated
to a grin, flashing so quickly across Sawyer's face that he wasn't sure he'd seen
it. “I'll allow you that illusion for a while.” Sawyer led them into a large room
that was a mix of formal and casual, as if two people had decorated it. Or
maybe it was all Sawyer and the guy had a split personality.
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“Sit there,” Sawyer said and pointed at one of two armchairs beside a lit
fireplace, crackling away and throwing out a moderate amount of heat and a
little smoke. “You may have some water if you're thirsty.”
Sterling sat. “I'm fine, thank you.” It was easy to speak politely when
dealing with everyday niceties—his parents had drilled that much into him.
Then he waited, trying to stay relaxed because being tense wasn't going to do
either of them any favors.
“You seem a lot happier about the idea of no sex than you were this
morning,” Sawyer said, which was jumping in at the deep end as far as Sterling
was concerned. “Of course, it's not strictly true that it's out of the equation
altogether; that's impossible. There's a sexual element to something as trivial
as me telling you that you're allowed to have water to drink instead of asking
you what you'd like.” Sawyer's lips lifted at the corners in a faint smile.
“Because I
do
have more than water in the house.” He raised his eyebrows. “So
what changed? Is it a price you're willing to pay? Or do you think that I didn't
mean it and you'll get me to change my mind?” The timbre of his voice changed
from conversational to something with a bite to it. “And no, turning to a friend
for a quick fuck to bleed off your frustration wouldn't be allowed, and yes, I'd
know.”
“I agreed to today,” Sterling pointed out, not letting himself be baited. “I'm
a man of my word—if I say I'm going to do something, I do it. If you want me to
go longer, you'll have to convince me it'll be worth it.” Okay, so maybe he was
getting riled up. He knew what this felt like, struggling for control, desperate to
come out on top.
Wait, he thought, remembering.
“Wait.” He said it fast, before Sawyer could come back at him, which,
again, wasn't the point of this whole thing, but he needed a minute to work this
out. The fire popped loudly. “Sorry. I—this is harder than I thought. I've spent
my whole life doing the opposite of this. And being miserable because of it. I
want—I want something else.”
Sawyer frowned. “Explain that to me a little more,” he said and yes, that
was definitely an encouraging look, even an expectant one. Maybe Sterling
wasn't fucking this up as much as he thought. “You seemed adamant about
you being the one to choose a Dom to control you, which makes me wonder if
you've been in a situation where that choice was taken away—but you said
that this was all new to you, so”—he spread his hands—“talk to me.”
“My father,” Sterling started out. “We've always had, I don't know, a
difficult relationship.” He smiled ruefully. “That's the nice way to put it. He
wanted me to be like him—I'm named after him, even, which is why I go by my
middle name. Because I don't want even that much connection with him, you
know?”
Sawyer nodded encouragingly, which made Sterling feel better. He'd done
a lot of thinking, but he hadn't tried to put any of this into words yet, so he
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31
took his time. There were a lot of pauses between sentences; it made him feel
slow and stupid.
“At first, when I was younger…I tried to make him happy, you know?
Proud of me. But everything I did was wrong, everything I wanted was wrong.
When I figured out I was gay—I guess I was about twelve, maybe thirteen—I
knew that was the end of it. There was no chance I was ever going to live up to
what he wanted from me, so I decided I wasn't going to try. We fought every
day. I can't think of a single conversation that didn't turn into a fight.”
He wanted to get up, to pace the room. But Sawyer had told him to sit.
God, this was hard. He could feel his stomach knotting up with the effort of
explaining things he'd rather not think about.
“Anyway, I hate it. I'm so sick of it I want to scream. It's so much
work
.
Why can't I just have what I want without it being such a
struggle?
Why isn't
what I want
enough
, just because I want it?” Sterling bit his lip and looked up
at Sawyer's face. “I don't know what I'm supposed to call you.”
“I suppose you don't.” Sawyer pursed his lips in thought for a moment and
then said, “For now, please call me Owen. It's enough of a change from
Professor Sawyer to remind us both that this is a new situation, and I don't
think that you're ready for something more traditional.” He nodded slowly,
never looking away from Sterling. “So you fought his authority because it was
imposed on you, wanting the control, wanting to submit, but not to him, never
to him… And you tried to
be
him because you thought that you had to be to
stand a chance of winning.” Sawyer's—Owen's—hand slashed sharply through
the air, a gesture of dismissal. “That's over. Done. And I can promise you that
I'll never bully you, but it
will
be a struggle, and it
will
be hard work.” Owen
stood and walked over to stand in front of him, his hand cupping Sterling's
chin so that their eyes met. “And it will be worth it,” he said softly. “Trust me.”
Sterling's sinuses prickled, a warning that emotion was threatening to get
the better of him. It wouldn't; he'd mastered it years ago, determined that he'd
never let his father see him cry, and the habit had become permanent as far as
he could tell. Even knowing that it was stupid and pointless to think that there
was anything wrong with crying didn't change things. He could hold friends
while they cried in the aftermath of a relationship gone to hell or the death of a
parent and not think any less of them, but it wasn't something he could or
would allow himself.
Now, with Owen's gentle, slightly calloused fingers touching his face,
Sterling almost wished he could.
“I do,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I trust you. And I don't—I don't want you
to think I'm looking for some kind of replacement father. I don't need that.
What I need is someone I can…be myself with, I think. I'm just… I'm so tired of
fighting, Owen.” Saying the other man's name felt right. Safe.
“That's good,” Owen said, his voice a quiet murmur that Sterling couldn't
help contrasting with the strident tones his father had used, as if volume made
what he said true. “I don't like fighting, either. It wastes time, and you don't
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Jane Davitt & Alexa Snow
have much of that.” Sterling frowned, not sure what that was supposed to
mean. Owen patted his face and then let his hand drop away. “You might have
forgotten that you're in your senior year; I haven't,” he said and sat down
again, crossing his legs and looking very much at ease. “I'd like a copy of your
schedule as soon as possible so we can see just how much time you have free
at the same time as I do.”
“I can do that. I have a part-time job too, but the schedule for that varies.”
Sterling felt strange, a combination of relieved and anticipatory. Was this really
happening, or was it all a dream? “So… Um. What happens now?”
“We talk. For longer than you'd probably like. Normally, I'd know you
better than this, you see,” Owen said. “I'd have seen you around the club,
watched you perform, possibly discussed you with your Dom. It isn't usually
this…rushed, and it's been a long time since I took on someone as
inexperienced as you.” Owen ran his hand through his hair and looked
fleetingly harried. “Not to mention the ethics of getting involved with a student.”
He gave Sterling a bemused look. “Tell me again why I agreed to this?”
“Because I'm incredibly hot?” Sterling suggested. He knew it was true, but
he also wanted to think it wasn't the only reason. “Actually—and I probably
shouldn't admit this, because maybe it'll give you an excuse to change your
mind, but—I don't know why you agreed. I didn't think you would. I was
imagining weeks of 'accidentally' turning up where you were.”
Just looking at Owen was making Sterling hard, and he shifted
uncomfortably in his chair. He wanted Owen to kiss him. Just that. He thought
he could wait weeks for sex (if not the months Owen was proposing), but
waiting that long for the press of Owen's lips to his own… He didn't think he
could wait that long. He didn't want to.
But, he tried to remind himself, this wasn't only about what he wanted,
and the idea of relinquishing control was such an incredible relief that it made
him relax things inside him he hadn't even realized were tensed.
“Am I allowed to ask questions? About you, I mean?” he said.
“You can ask, but I can't promise I'll always answer if it involves someone
else,” Owen said, which was reassuring in a way. “I won't discuss other subs
I've been involved with and until I know you better, I won't share every detail of
my past, either, unless I feel it's relevant. Questions about what we're doing or
what I ask of you—yes, as many as you like, always.” He smiled, another of
those small quirk of lips that Sterling was starting to get obsessed about.
“Unless you're gagged or I've told you not to talk, of course.” He gazed into the
fire, which allowed Sterling a small breathing space; Owen staring at him was
pretty intense. “Why I agreed to take you on… Partly to save myself from being
pestered, and partly because, yes, you're very attractive, although maybe not
for the reasons you think.” He gave Sterling a sidelong glance. “And maybe for
the chance to deliver the spankings you did such a good job of earning
freshman year. Did you consider
that
possibility when you chose me?”
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33
“Not…consciously,” Sterling admitted. The thought of it made his jeans
feel even tighter, and he shifted again, trying to find a better position in the
chair that had seemed perfectly comfortable when he'd first sat down in it. “I
guess I'd like to know how you got into this, and if you've had a lot of, um,
partners.” What he really wanted to ask was if Owen had ever hurt anyone,
like,
really
hurt them, because as much as the idea of being spanked was
turning him on, he wasn't too crazy about the thought of having broken bones
or needing stitches.
Although a few weeks ago he'd probably have laughed if someone had
suggested he'd like to be spanked, so who knew how he'd feel in a few more?
“I always knew this was what worked for me,” Owen said, “and when I got
old enough, I went looking for it. I honestly couldn't tell you an exact number of
casual partners, but people like you…” His eyes got distant for a moment. “Six.
One long-term, the rest for a few months or so, none longer than a year. I'm a
little hard to please, and I get bored easily.” Owen's eyes sharpened, and