Professor’s Rule 01 - Giving an Inch (5 page)

“Please. Hurry.” A request, not a demand, not a plea. And as much as James wanted to drag this out and make it last, he had to remember that Satish’s job was on the line. Carson would probably want him to go slower for that very reason, up the element of risk, but James wouldn’t do that.

He couldn’t prevent Carson’s spirit from infusing every sexual encounter he had; it had been that way since he was twenty. But he could at least keep it from harming Satish any more than it already had the potential to do. He began to move faster, sucking more firmly, throwing into it every trick he’d learned kneeling at Carson’s feet.

“G-goodness,” Satish sputtered, his voice high and refined, which only increased James’s desire. That sort of outburst was no act, it was Satish stripped down to his very purest self: a well-raised, polite man, caught in a sexual game he couldn’t even comprehend but unable to resist the lure of James’s unapologetic depravity.

And James, once the tempted, now became the tempter, the one drawing an unwitting man into this tangled, terrible, delightful game. But it was
his
game, not Carson’s. Not that he had even the slightest interest in dominating or being dominated by Satish, but he still had the ability to determine how this would play out. The power of that was heady, as heady as Satish’s smell and taste. Bobbing his head rapidly, his fist around his cock sped up too, chafing a bit but oh the pain was perfect, a reminder of how forbidden this was and of the punishment that was sure to come. Caning? Denial? It didn’t matter.

He’d take it and he wouldn’t even be sorry for it.

Much.

The tremor in Satish’s hands and the tight drawing of his nuts told James the end was hurtling toward them, and he threw himself at it for an unflinching, head-on collision. Carson hadn’t specified how this part was supposed to go, but really, even if he had, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. James knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was to swallow a mouthful of Satish’s cum, feel it on his tongue, taste it, let it coat the inside of his mouth.

So he sucked. He rolled his gaze upward and tugged at Satish’s shirt, just enough to get him to open his eyes to dark-fringed slits. He watched Satish’s face and knew Satish was watching back.

He let Satish know how much he loved it, how hungry he was for it. Staring up in pure cock-sucking adoration, James drove himself all the way down, until his lips were wrapped around the base of Satish’s cock, until his breath warmed the dark thatch of hair there. Satish made another strangled sound and his eyes clenched shut. Something surged underneath the skin pressed against James’s stretched-taut lower lip, and he drew back just in time to let that initial burst erupt across his tongue.

Totally shameless, James jerked himself and watched Satish’s face as jet after jet of warm, salty cum coated his extended tongue. A few drops hit his upper lip, but that was fine—better than fine, actually, because in the mirror behind Satish’s thigh he could see himself reflected, and he looked so perfect kneeling there with his flushed cock hanging free and his hand a blur of movement and his reddened face wet with tears and drool and Satish’s spunk.

When the pulsations stopped, he slid all the way to the root again and let Satish feel the rippling of his throat as he swallowed.

Had he more presence of mind, he would have admired the restraint it took for Satish to limit himself to a few sharp gasps, but there wasn’t time for that. The tension in his balls hit the critical stage, and when James’s hand twisted and curled around the head of his own cock, there was another rush, another eruption, filling his palm and dripping down his dick. He released Satish’s twitching cock, letting it trail spit and slime down his jaw, and panted through his own release, shuddering.

The silence in the aftermath was thunderous. James could practically hear Satish’s incredulous
Holy shit, did I actually just do that?
mental litany. But Satish didn’t freak out. He was relatively calm as he reached down to stroke James’s face before working to right his clothing with hands that still trembled slightly.

James heard a buzz and realized his phone was vibrating. Realized it had been for some time, and he hadn’t noticed.

“Your sister?” Satish asked, voice soft as if he didn’t really want to speak.

“Um . . . yeah.” James looked around for somewhere to wipe his hand and finally grabbed the T-shirt he’d arrived at the store in. “I’ll wear this shirt out, if that’s okay with you?”

Satish nodded gracefully, some of his composure returning. “Of course.”

Hand clean—if somewhat sticky—James checked the message.

Buy all the clothes he’s shown you. Make sure he gets a commission worthy of his time
.

Jesus fuck, how much money did Carson think he had? But he was right. Maybe if Satish came out of this with a nice fat sale, his boss wouldn’t consider objecting (nor would he wonder about) the amount of time and “individual attention” it had taken.

James smiled up at Satish, trying to look steadier than he felt. His knees ached and some pins that had fallen into the carpet were pricking him just enough to be uncomfortable. Also, he really wasn’t used to kneeling like this anymore.

“Ring everything up,” he said. “I’ll take the whole kit and caboodle.”

Satish’s eyes bugged out. “What? Are you kidding me? No! I’m not a prostitute.”

Ouch. “No, I know you’re not. It’s just . . . it’s to keep your boss off your case. That’s all. Promise.” To prove it, James reached out and cupped Satish’s thigh, stroking tenderly, like a lover instead of a customer. Satish’s hand returned to James’s sticky face and James turned into the caress. Kissed his palm. Again, like a lover.

Strangely enough, it didn’t feel like an act.

“I don’t want you in any trouble because of me, okay? So please? Do it? For my peace of mind?” He pushed himself off his knees and staggered when they protested. Satish helped steady him and nodded.

“Okay. Let me take that tag off the shirt you’re wearing, and give me those trousers. I’ll ring you up while you . . . put yourself in order.” A little dimple appeared on one cheek as he smiled.

James smiled back and leaned in, kissing him softly. Lingering in it. It felt good. It felt safe. It felt like something just beginning, not a “Thanks for the quickie and see you later.”

He still wanted to take Satish to dinner. Or whatever. Wow.

But it wasn’t meant to be, because just then another text came in.

What’s taking you so long?

Satish gathered up the shirts and vests and pants and slipped out of the changeroom.

He’s just leaving now.
James expected another demand for a picture to come in reply to that, but it didn’t. No reply at all. Maybe the game was over, then. He shrugged at himself in the mirror. Time to get dressed and get out of here, he supposed.

Trying to wipe the “just gave a blowjob” mess off his face and make himself presentable, James pulled on his jeans and shoes, then gathered his wadded T-shirt and met Satish at the register. He was looking . . . puzzled.

“Everything okay?” James murmured, leaning casually on the counter while Satish entered the purchases into the register.

“I guess so. I came out to have my manager tell me someone already gave an account number for your purchases and I was to charge it all to that.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck no.

James darted a look around the store, trying to find where Carson was lurking, but he could see no sign of him. Bastard probably called it in. Fuck.

What was Carson trying to pull? Was he making a statement about Satish? Was he trying to, as Satish had suggested, make Satish a whore? And if so, why would he bother? James couldn’t shake the suspicion that Carson’s interest in Satish had an unaccustomed keenness. Why else had he led off asking about Satish? Was it jealousy that James was more interested in a third party than he had ever been in the past? Had Carson realized that James had shut him out of that dressing-room encounter in the end? Out of the action, even out of his mind, at least for a moment. Was he trying to re-exert his preeminence? Remind James who was in charge, who he’d be returning to when all was said and done?

Even now, full of defiance at this latest move, James knew he was still going to end up on his knees before the Professor. They had unfinished business, after all, and God help him, James still
wanted
that. But he couldn’t let Carson treat Satish like some random stranger they had used, like they had so many others before.

Satish was different. For the first time, with Satish, James had found the ability to draw the line, to shut out Carson’s will and make an encounter about his own will. Satish was a lifeline, keeping James from drowning in Carson’s presence and authority. Or at least he had been, in that moment. Who knew if he’d be able to hold up as the storm got fiercer, as all storms were bound to do.

“You okay?” Satish prompted, and James realized he hadn’t responded or given an explanation for the account number that had been provided.

“Uh, yeah.”

Satish gestured to the stack of clothes neatly folded on the counter. “Is your sister paying for all this? Your parents?”

“What? Uh, no. I’m paying for it.” James’s own perverse cravings might ensure he couldn’t send Carson away again, not yet, maybe not for a long time to come, but he could still issue a satisfying “fuck you” vis-à-vis the pissing match Carson seemed to want to engage Satish in. He fished his credit card out of his wallet, though he could imagine the thin piece of plastic cringing and weeping in terror at what he was about to do to it. “Use this instead. Ignore whatever that was.”

Satish’s eyebrows went up, but he did as James requested.

Carson was already going to make him pay for his earlier infractions, so why not rack up even more? And really, it couldn’t hurt for James to hammer home the message that this time, he would be making a few rules of his own. If there was even going to
be
a this time between him and Carson.

And to that end . . . “When is your next evening free?” James asked as he signed over his next several months’ groceries in one flourish.

“Thursday.” Satish flashed a sedate smile, clearly okay with what would follow such a leading question.

Far be it for James to disappoint. “Would you go out with me? Dinner, maybe a club if that’s your thing? I’d like to see you again.”

“I’d like that.” Satish held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

James complied, nervously mulling over how much he wanted to disclose to Satish. This was messy. Satish had to know, had to have the ability to opt out of any involvement with James while Carson was still in the picture. And Carson
would
still be in the picture. The floodgates had opened again and there would be no closing them. Not until James decided he’d had enough.

Strange. He was really hoping it wouldn’t get to that point again. That this time it would be different, and how fucking warped was that? Was he just greedy, wanting to have his cake and eat it too? Nice, safe, vanilla sex with Satish and . . .
whatever
. . . with Carson? Was he being selfish? Would it be better not to try to involve Satish at all, if he couldn’t swear off Carson completely? What the fuck did he think he was doing?

Satish returned his phone, and James decided he wasn’t going to do a fucking thing to wipe that sweet smile from his face. He could shelve the bullshit angst for now, think the situation over. At the very least, they could have one pleasant date. Maybe more. Hopefully more. It depended on how Satish reacted to the revelation that there was another presence in James’s life.

Whatever happened, though, James was in charge of his own destiny, now. Carson’s game, it would always,
always
be Carson’s game . . . but from now on, James’s rules. He would have a life
outside
the game, a life Carson couldn’t touch, couldn’t infiltrate. A life that involved more than just being the Professor’s
pupil
.

Maybe even a life with Satish in it.

“Thanks,” James said. “For everything.” Something warmed inside him as Satish let his fingers slide over James’s when he handed the credit card back. James drew a deep breath and smiled in return. He could do this. “I’ll give you a call, figure out when and where?”

“Sure,” Satish replied.

Just let me figure out the how, first.

He wished he could do something more, but with Satish’s boss hovering at the next checkout stand, simultaneously scowling over how long the transaction was taking and salivating over how big the sale had been, he really couldn’t. So he took his (many) bags and murmured a farewell, heading out to his car.

Another text arrived as James stuffed his bags in the trunk.

I expect you in my office in no more than a half hour. We need to discuss your behavior today
.

James stared at it a long moment, weighing his options. There was going to be an accounting for what he’d done, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was aching for it, wanted it down to his very marrow. But he wasn’t going to let Carson bowl him over, either.

Fine. But we need to talk first.

Very well. But why do I get the feeling that it will be you doing most of the talking?

Well, it’s you who’ll be doing most of the spanking, so I’d say we’re even.

“Most?”

Fine. All.

Then you’d best get here soon if we’re to have time for talking and spanking. I haven’t got all day to wait on you.

James’s jaw flexed and his eyes narrowed. That. That right there, Carson expecting him to drop everything and attend him. That was going to have to go, too. Better to draw the line now.

Fine. Maybe tomorrow, then. I’ll get back to you.

A long wait, then, sitting behind the wheel of his car. Finally, his phone buzzed one last time.

Call me when you’re ready
.

James stared at the screen a moment, blowing out a long sigh. He’d almost expected Carson to take offense, despite his assurances that he’d let James set boundaries. But it had worked.