Room at the Edge (18 page)

“Sure,” Jay said again. Austin had the feeling Jay’s response would’ve been the same no matter what he’d said. Jay was focused on what was to come, anticipating it with the intensity of a kid with an upcoming birthday.

Austin just hoped he could make this worthwhile.

When Jay was lying on his stomach, the long tail of his hair pulled forward over his shoulder, well away from his back, a rolled, damp towel across his shoulders providing a protective barrier, Austin took a deep breath. It didn’t do much to help slow his racing heart, but running his hand over Jay’s back did. A strong connection between them formed, based on a shared trust, a shared love. He’d felt that way with Liam so many times, draped over Liam’s lap or kneeling at his feet. He’d planned to ask Jay if he was sure about what they were about to do, but instead he asked, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jay said, the words spoken quietly but clearly.

He wanted to ask Jay not to call him that, but it would just ruin things. Austin wanted this to be as good for Jay as he could make it. He lit the squat candle and checked the Q-tips he had ready on a plate, the wide cup with a tiny amount of isopropyl alcohol in it, and the empty dinner plate. He reached for the bottle of mousse, the brand he’d chosen the result of hours of research, and shook it well before squeezing a very small amount onto Jay’s back in a horizontal line that went from just beneath one shoulder blade to the other.

“Here we go.” Austin dipped a Q-tip into the alcohol, lit it on the candle, and touched it to the end of the line of mousse.

The flame flared faster than he’d expected, but it was over in a matter of two seconds, a brief flash and then gone. Austin hastily wiped his water-dampened hand over Jay’s skin to make sure the flame was out—apparently it sometimes kept burning and you couldn’t really see it, which, if it was true, made fire play even more dangerous.

“How was that?” he asked anxiously. “Talk to me.”

“Weird.” Jay sounded calm, at least. “At first it was cold, then it was colder, now it’s warm. It didn’t stay hot for more a few breaths.”

“Do you…”

Jay sighed, a quiet exhalation. “Oh yeah. Again. Please. I just wish I could see it.”

“If I did it on your chest or stomach, I’d need to shave you to be safe,” Austin pointed out. “Just concentrate on how it feels.”

“I can do that.” Jay stretched out luxuriously and wriggled his ass. “Do it there?”

The second time it was easier. Austin drew a lopsided heart across Jay’s ass, smiling as the foam expanded, white and thick.

“Ready?”

He got a contented murmur; then the foam was burning, consumed in a moment, leaving nothing behind. Chemical magic.

Jay cried out with pleasure, a soft, wordless sound. “Oh yeah. Oh God, I love it. More. No, wait. Try the alcohol directly on me this time.”

Dubious, his doubts returning in a rush, Austin picked up a fresh Q-tip and soaked it in the alcohol, then drew a random squiggle on Jay’s back, low down.

“That’s it,” Jay encouraged him.

Austin stared at the candle flame, watching it flare and bend, responding to a shift in the air. Had Jay opened the small window in the bathroom? The flame held his gaze, flickering wildly, but in the end he shook his head, unseen by Jay, before swiping the wet towel across Jay’s back. “No. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve got that much sense at least,” Liam said from the doorway, his voice so rigidly controlled it was clear he was furious even without seeing his face.

Not that Austin could have kept from turning, though he was careful to wet his fingers and put the candle flame out first. “Sir.” He didn’t know what else to say. He was terrified, like a little kid who’d just been caught playing with matches.

Liam came closer and picked up the wet towel, wiping Jay’s skin with it a second time. “Jay, go get in the shower immediately. Use soap, and do not come out until you’re sure you’re clean. And don’t argue.”

The look on Jay’s face made it obvious he’d been thinking about trying to explain, but he bit his lip, nodded, and crept away. A moment later Austin heard the shower turn on again.

“Sit down,” Liam said grimly. “No, don’t. Clean up all of this. In five minutes I don’t want to be able to see any sign of what you were about to get yourselves into.”

“I’m sorry,” Austin said, figuring he’d say more even if he didn’t know what it would be.

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” Liam snapped.

Trembling, Austin did as he’d been told, quickly but without being careless. He put everything that had been in contact with flammable liquid into the bucket of water, which he carried to the kitchen and put beside the sink. He poured the alcohol back into the bottle it had come from and took the fire extinguishers to the kitchen as well. Then he returned to the bedroom and began to fold the blanket Jay had been lying on.

“I can’t believe you,” Liam said. His voice was low, as if he was so angry he didn’t dare raise it. That was good. Austin didn’t want to see what Liam out of control was like. “I know Jay has a tendency to do stupid things on the spur of the moment. He’s impulsive; he doesn’t always have sense when it comes to ideas like this. But you—I thought you knew better.”

Austin finished folding the blanket and took it to the closet, where he tucked it onto the top shelf.

“Let me see your hands,” Liam ordered, and Austin went to him, palms up.

“I’m not burned,” he said, offering that up as if it would calm Liam down, when he knew, he fucking knew it wouldn’t. “And Jay’s okay—”

Liam’s hand pressed against his mouth, not a slap, just a reminder that he wasn’t supposed to talk. Austin knew that hand. It had spanked him, caressed him, held him down. He’d kissed it, sucked the long fingers until they were wet and hot from his mouth, then spread his legs so Liam could slide them deep inside his ass.

Now Liam’s hand was cold and stiff, all warmth fled.

“You speak again, and I’ll go. I’ll walk out of here. I don’t want to hear what you have to say when I’m this angry. I don’t trust myself.”

Austin closed his eyes, shame and panic rising. He was light-headed, the room swirling around him. Oh God, that choking, suffocating darkness, the cold sweat on his back… He was going to pass out or throw up.

Liam snatched his hand away, and Austin let himself be guided to the bed, let his head be pushed between his knees, submitted to his body voiding itself into the wastepaper bin, fortunately empty.

He threw up, retching helplessly until his mouth burned, acid-coated, and his nose ran. The world smelled revolting, and his eyes were watering, his skin clammy.

A damp towel came to rest against the back of his neck, soothing but still a shock. Then Liam used it to wipe his face.

The shame was about the only thing he couldn’t puke up into the bucket. It lay in the pit of his stomach, heavy, greasy, impossible to dislodge.

Austin wanted to beg Liam for forgiveness. He wanted to say he was sorry, so sorry, to claim all responsibility and deny Jay any. Instead he did the only things he could do—he took the damp towel from Liam, scrubbed it over his mouth again, and slid off the bed to kneel on the floor at Liam’s feet.

Liam didn’t touch him, didn’t say a word.

The sound of the shower wasn’t audible anymore; Jay must have turned it off. A moment later Jay came into the room—naked, still dripping water like he hadn’t bothered with a towel. Liam made an impatient gesture, and Jay nodded and knelt down half a world away from Austin.

“This is the line,” Liam said grimly. “This is where you learn my limits. I need you both to do some hard thinking. Do you trust me to give you what you need? Or are you going to be peering around every corner hoping to sneak something more, like greedy children? You’re both far too old to be acting this way.”

“Sir…” Jay said in a whisper, but Liam shook his head.

“No. I said I wanted you to think before you answered me, and I meant it. I don’t want you falling over yourselves to apologize and promise the world if it’ll get you spanked and forgiven. That’s just more instant gratification for you, and you don’t deserve it after what you’ve put me through.” The tight, clipped words faltered, a look of shock passing over Liam’s face. “God, I think I said that exact thing to my son once.” Liam swallowed, his mouth twisting, his composure lost for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice shook, raw with distress and anger. “You’re making me feel like your father, damn it, and I don’t want to be that to either of you. Your Dom. Your lover. Not a fucking substitute for a dead man and an uncaring one.”

Had he ever thought of Liam that way? Austin’s memories of his father were like a handful of beads, separate, small incidents captured in a hard shell, unchanging. They had no depth to them, no background to set them against.

Nothing about Liam matched those memories. Liam was…Liam. Lonely, reserved, living in a house that said nothing about him—but capable of so much warmth and imagination during a scene. Liam, learning to love them almost against his will, still sometimes unsure when he was in bed with them, until they brought him to the point where there was nothing in his eyes but incredulous pleasure. Liam, so fucking patient, endlessly pushing them to do more, give him more, demanding, perfectionist, ruthless, perfect…

“No.” He forced the word out through stiff lips dry with panic. If Liam left them, walked out for good… “We don’t see you that way. We don’t.”

Liam sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I honestly don’t know whether to believe you.”

“I’m not lying to you, Sir—” Austin started.

“Stop. Don’t call me Sir, not now. Just be quiet, both of you. Let me think.” Liam looked wrecked, like he’d walked in on them cheating on him instead of playing around with a candle and some flammable liquid.

That wasn’t fair, Austin knew. It was the kind of thing Jay would say out loud—he wouldn’t mean it, not really, but he’d say it. Normally Austin wouldn’t even think it. He waited, glad he’d been told not to say anything, because he didn’t have any idea what to say. The thought of Liam leaving them made him feel cold and sick. He wiped his mouth again.

“Get dressed,” Liam said wearily. “Austin, if you want to go rinse out your mouth and that bin, go ahead. We need to talk, and we can’t do it like this.”

“I’ll clean the bin,” Jay said, as subdued as Austin had ever seen him. He disappeared with it, leaving Austin to give Liam a helpless look, wanting some sign from Liam that everything would be okay.

Instead Liam got to his feet. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t stay here. I need…I need some time to work out what the hell I did wrong.”

“Nothing,” Austin said urgently. “Liam, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He wasn’t sure Liam heard him. There was a blind, dazed look on Liam’s face for a moment, followed by a frown of concentration. Then Liam shook his head as if he were being pestered by a fly and walked to the door.

Austin wanted to chase after him, grab Liam’s arm, say the right things, all the perfect words to mend this, but he stayed where he was.

He heard Jay saying Liam’s name, heard Liam say something about talking to them tomorrow, but that was vague and far away, muffled voices in a fog.

The only clear sound, painfully sharp and final, was the slam of the door.

Chapter Ten

Liam got into his car and closed the door, robbed of a satisfyingly emphatic slam by modern engineering. He made up for it by yanking at the seat belt so hard it jammed. Once he’d dealt with that minor issue, he shoved the key at the ignition slot and cursed as the key ring fell from his shaking hand.

He needed to leave before Austin or Jay looked out the window and saw him still sitting here, but he was in no condition to drive. Trying to be sensible, he bent over and retrieved his keys, carefully inserted the car key into place, and left it there.

The street was deserted on this chilly evening, with a fine sleet falling to discourage anyone but dog walkers and the hardiest joggers.

Liam leaned back in his seat, his breath coming in loud, harsh pants.

Walking up to their apartment, anticipating his welcome, using the key they’d given him with a pleasurable sense of belonging… He’d thought about how thrilled they’d be to see him, hadn’t considered explaining how hard he’d worked all day toward the possibility that he’d be able to finish up in time to see them, no matter how briefly.

Hearing Jay’s voice, thick with arousal, and feeling immediate annoyance that they were breaking his rule again, only to discover that they were doing something so much worse…

He struck the wheel with his hands, once, twice, jarring it, leaving his palms throbbing, but it wasn’t enough to drain the rage and distress rising to suffocate him. He couldn’t sort his reactions out, separating disillusionment from concern, hurt from loss; they formed a tangled, messy knot.

“So fucking stupid,” he said, needing to hear it said, even with no audience but himself. “How could they do that without me? Anything could have happened. Jesus.”

When he thought of what Austin had been about to do, he wanted a bucket of his own to throw up into. He saw Jay’s hair, that dark, smooth fall of silk catch fire, the smooth skin on his back bubble and blister, and choked on sourness.

There was a half-empty bottle of water in the cup holder. He opened it and swallowed down as much as he could stomach. It helped with the taste in the back of his throat, but not much else.

As he sat, his anger cooled to an icy resolve. He hated the position they’d forced him into. He wasn’t interested in punishing them for misbehaving, not for this sort of misbehavior, at least. They were adults, and he’d meant it when he said he didn’t want to be a father figure to them. When he disciplined them, it was for mutual pleasure or small disobediences within a scene, nothing else. He would never have punished Jay for spending too much on books or Austin for getting a speeding ticket; that was none of his business. This did come under his authority, he supposed, but it still felt uncomfortably like being faced with his children, guilt-stricken and wide-eyed, caught with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, about to experiment with smoking.