Bound by Lies (38 page)

“Rrreow,” Jenner meows at her. “Someone’s jealous.”

Jenner watches her go, still holding Brayden in place, then says under his breath, “Spanking is against the rules.”

“I didn’t ask her to,” Brayden argues. “But feel free to punish me for it later.”

“Mm, bet you’d like that, huh?”

With a wanton, willing hint of a smile that’s more in his eyes than on his lips, Brayden says, “Yes, Sir.” He pulls free of Jenner’s grip and disappears into the bathroom.

“No way I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight,” Brayden laments as Jenner pulls him into their new, larger bed. It’s queen-sized, and now Brayden’s pillow rests atop it, directly beside Jenner’s. Their clothes are stashed in the closet on shelves and hanging up, out of sight. The space remains a little sparse, but it has filled up considerably since that first night when it was empty except for a tiny single bed.

“Have you seen yourself and how exhausted you are? You look half dead.”

“Gee, thanks. I mean, even if Andre finds the place in the dark and the middle of the night, we’d hear him trying to break the door down, so that’s, like, warning. Right? But I think if he was able to get a flight he’d be here by now. How late do planes run?”

“Shh. We’re not talking about it anymore. It’s late. C’mon. There’s no resisting me now,” Jenner whispers temptingly. Brayden falls onto the mattress beside him and begins to try to get comfortable. He rolls onto his stomach and draws the pillow under his head, eyes already closing as Jenner pulls the covers up over them. Brayden begins to drift off as Jenner, lying on his side next to Brayden, says very softly, “So, I can put it in the closet, right?”

“Mm?” Brayden grunts, mostly asleep.

“Just agree with me. Pretend it’s a dream.”

“’M not sleeping.”

“Of course not,” Jenner scoffs gently. “So, yes to the closet?”

“What’re you talkin’ about, dude? Is this about the surfboard again?”

“No.” Jenner chuckles, like Brayden is being ridiculous.

Brayden rolls slightly to peer up at Jenner through one cracked-open eye. “It’s just a surfboard.”

“It’s,” Jenner starts, controlling his volume masterfully, “a fucking
enormous
surfboard, painted in bright, flowery colors and standing right in the middle of my living room. There’s no reason to have it out. There’s not an ocean anywhere near here.”

“You just called me flowery,” Brayden observes with amazement. “What’s with you trying to shove everything in the closet? Do I need to worry about Pussy?”

Jenner breaks into a small chuckle at that before he composes his expression into a serious, tranquil one again. “Nope, way too easy. I’m passing right by that one.”

“I like my surfboard. It makes me feel like I’m home, like I belong here.”

Brayden gives him puppy eyes. Jenner puckers slightly, his dimples popping, and drops his gaze. “How about this? If you let me put it in the closet, I won’t punish you tomorrow morning like I was planning.”

Laughing, Brayden retorts, “That’s your compromise? Seriously? Because I
really
didn’t want you to spank me. Why don’t you promise not to fuck me while you’re at it?”

“Slut.”

“Priss.”

“Hippie.”

“Gorilla.”

“Gorilla?” Jenner repeats with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, that’s one of ’Rique’s. Cut me some slack, I’m tired.”

Jenner reaches out and brushes the hair back from the side of Brayden’s face, sending it tumbling back over the pillowcase. He hooks the hand around Brayden’s ear and can’t help but lean in for a soft, little kiss.

“You want Andre to see that I belong here, right? That this is my home and where I want to be? I know you like things the way you like them, but if we’re going to live together you have to let this be my space, too.”

With a deep sigh, Jenner laments, “I can’t argue with you when you have that sleepy, sexy voice.”

“Mmm.”

He waits a minute or two, stroking Brayden’s hair as he falls asleep. Then he whispers, very quietly, “I’ll let you keep it out, but in return I want permission to fuck you while you’re sleeping.”

“The hell is wrong with you? That would definitely wake me up!”

“Shhh, go back to sleep.”

Brayden calls drowsily, “Pussy, keep an eye on this one for me,” and falls asleep for good. It’s not until morning has arrived in force that Brayden rouses. The bed is too comfortable. Each time he begins to surface from dreams of swimming against the tide to reach someone that’s being swept out to sea, some of the low, simmering dread starts to creep in. So he pushes back into the black, preferring the battle of the dream over the battle of reality.

When a small, warm weight settles on his head, Brayden grunts and finally wakes for good. Hair tickles his nostrils, making him sneeze. The cat has curled up to lie on the side of his face, but gets startled by the sneeze. Groaning, Brayden calls, “Jenn, the cat’s trying to smother me!”

“Who do you think put her on the bed?”

Brayden shoos the cat away and sits up, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Ten. Come have something to eat. Your phone buzzed a while ago and I took the liberty of checking it. Your knight in shining armor is going to be here soon. He had an eight o’clock flight and texted you the arrival info.”

“Shit,” Brayden sighs. “Okay, okay. I’m up. Did he say anything else?”

“Nope.”

Struggling out from the clutches of the bed’s softness, Brayden is vaguely aware of Jenner looking him up and down as he staggers toward the bathroom with his morning wood at half-mast, his pants slung so low that his bare ass peeks slightly out of them.

“Damn, I’m gonna like living with you,” Jenner chuckles. “I hope you thought to cover that up when you were living with poor, innocent cousin Emma.”

“Hmm, what?” Brayden blinks, squinting at the sunlight.

“Never mind. I guess we can hope for her sake that she’s as deep a sleeper as you and missed the regular morning show.”

“You didn’t fuck me while I was out, did you?” Brayden asks without bothering to turn.

“Baby, if you can’t tell then I can’t help you.” Brayden pulls down his pants and examines his inner thighs for dried semen. In the other room, Jenner bursts out laughing. Brayden hears him sigh, “God, I love that kid.”

Brayden emerges twenty minutes later. He’s showered and slightly more conscious than he was when he went into the bathroom. While twisting his hair back out of his face, he calls out, “You wanna go to the gym, that’s fine with me. I’d love to go along, but….”

“You’re trying to foist me off on the gym?” Jenner makes a face at him. Brayden ignores it, choosing instead to make a beeline for the coffee pot and keep his head down.

“I’m trying to avoid a clash of the titans or some shit. Lemme talk to Andre. Once I explain, it’ll be fine. You should stay out of it.”

Laughing, Jenner follows after Brayden, standing over him and seeming ten feet tall. “It’s adorable that you think there’s a chance in hell I’ll agree to that. You know, you haven’t been completely clear with me on how far it went with him. I know he blew you, but just how familiar are you with
his
cock?”

Brayden pours coffee and asks, “What? You worried his is bigger than yours?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“No, I’m ignoring your self-esteem issues until I have some caffeine. Chill out. I like your cock better. I’m with you. Not him. Case closed. Look, when I talked to him on the phone, I felt guilty about how far I’ve gone with you, but now that I’ve gotten it off my chest, I’m cool. Andre just needs to
see
that I’m cool. It’ll all be good.”

“You’re delusional. Okay, answer me this then. How are you going to introduce me?”

“As Jenner?”

“Who is your….”

The hesitation visibly pains Jenner. Brayden hesitates not because he doesn’t know what to call their relationship, but because he doesn’t want to have to admit aloud, in public, to an audience, what they are. It’s a lot different to look someone you respect in the eye and confess something when you’re face-to-face than to say it offhandedly into a phone.

“Why do we have to categorize it?”

“Because we do.”

“I think I told him you’re my boyfriend.” Brayden says.

Jenner argues, “Andre’s not coming up here on a goddamned airplane because Braydy has himself a boyfriend.”

Jenner’s strong hand clasps the side of Brayden’s neck. The thumb tilts Brayden’s chin upwards, then the fingers slip back into his hair, wrapping in it. Moving his lips right against the shell of Brayden’s ear, Jenner’s low, powerful voice causes Brayden to shiver as he rasps,
“Who am I?”

“M-master.”

“Louder.”

“Master.”

“I asked you a question, slave. You need to answer it. Your body is mine now and I don’t like other people touching my things. Tell me the truth.”

“I used my mouth on him,” Brayden admits quietly. “But it wasn’t really a blowjob. Sir. That’s all.”

“Hands?”

The answer is written plainly in the anguish in Brayden’s eyes, but Jenner apparently needs him to say the words.

“He’d restrain my hands. You know that. Or you should, Sir.”

“If Nana hadn’t called you up here, would you have let him fuck you?”

Brayden flinches subtly. Jenner pulls more tightly on his hair, making him gasp softly.

“
Ahh
, no. No, he was my best friend. That’s a line I wouldn’t cross.”

“I was your boss first. You crossed that line.”

“It’s different. You’re different.”

“Why?”

“Because I
love
you. I want you. Just you.”

Jenner kisses him quickly, frowning against the tide of emotion and need that Brayden draws out in him. Brayden gasps gently against Jenner’s lips, bending under the force of Jenner’s desire. Then Jenner lets him go.

“Show me.”

Prove it
, Brayden hears as he falls to his knees where he stands and tugs down the front of Jenner’s exercise shorts to guide him free. Brayden’s fingers tremble slightly, but Jenner stiffens even more at the evidence of Brayden’s nervousness. Grabbing the edge of the counter with both hands, bending slightly over Brayden, Jenner curls forward around him. Hesitant, wracked with self-consciousness, Brayden starts to suck Jenner off, and Jenner moans.

It doesn’t take long. Jenner gets off on Brayden’s dutiful, earnest efforts to make it good. Once spent, giving Brayden a moment to recover and catch his breath, Jenner caresses through Brayden’s hair. It’s a quiet, decadently intimate moment. Brayden nuzzles against the heat of Jenner’s groin without reservation, just seeking comfort. Once Brayden is ready, Jenner helps him up. He places a tender, soft kiss to the outer corner of Brayden’s lips, drags a thumb over the wet, throbbing skin, and lets him turn to retrieve his coffee.

Jenner watches Brayden take one of his mugs from the cupboard. It’s hand-painted, heavily glazed with bright colors, and therefore easily distinguishable from Jenner’s plain black ones. He adds sugar first—plenty of it—and smothers it with a thick stream of the black aromatic brew. A tendril of hair escapes the knot at the back of his head. Brayden absentmindedly tucks it back over an ear.

The set of Brayden’s shoulders and the weary air about him speaks of a weight that has settled upon him, one he has to bear until difficult confrontations are made. Jenner sees it all. But, more than that, he tries to see what’s hidden beneath.

Brayden’s past is one much more terrible than what Jenner has had to endure. With his father, whom Brayden must have deeply loved, passed away and his mother fled shortly after, Brayden is very much alone. People have disappointed him over and over again. Survivor’s guilt, perhaps, along with the grief from losing his father coupled with abandonment issues from being left behind when he was still finding his way in the world. They haven’t spoken of the particulars and, though Jenner wants to, he knows this isn’t the time to start that conversation. Even without talking it over, Jenner suspects that those life events are what cause Brayden to need to be so tightly held during intimate moments. Tied down and trapped, there can be no chance of slipping away, whether to death, obscurity, or an even worse fate.

In Jenner’s opinion, it’s not Andre’s place to check up on Brayden. Then again, who else is there to do it? Brayden wanted Andre to come to Robertsville. He craved the reassurance that someone cared enough to go out of their way to make sure he was all right. In lieu of the family he should have had, Brayden has begun to make his own family out of the likes of Andre and Enrique, Jenner, Max and Art, Nana and Emma Leah. Jenner watches, waits, and steps carefully, trying to reason it out, to decide on the best path to take when part of him hates Andre for having closeness with Brayden as well as some real claim on his heart.

Once his mug is half-empty, Brayden looks up with an alert, steadier, golden-green gaze. “It worries me when you’re this quiet.”

“No need to worry.”

“Then talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“I’m thinking about what I want,” Jenner confides. “I want to be at the gym, with you, watching your body cut through the water like a knife. I want to take you back to Manse. They have booths there, with walls made out of one-way mirrors where we could play, or fuck, and other men could watch. I could show them how beautiful you are when you submit to me, how much you want it. I want to take you to Sunday dinner and hold your hand and not be ashamed of that. I want to walk up to your Nana’s door and kiss your cheek and not see the pain in your eyes doing that would cause. I want to call your sorry excuse for a mother and demand she explain to me how she could leave you all alone when you were still dealing with your father’s death. I want to thank Andre for caring enough about you to fly up here and, after I thank him, knock him on his ass for touching you and forcing himself on you. I want to beg your forgiveness for doing the same thing myself. The worst part is, I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again. You make me crazy.
The things you do to me
.”