Authors: Susan Mac Nicol
Pushover X
No fucking way.
So, with that all established in his head, he wondered how in hell
he
was the one with his five-ten frame tied spread-eagled to a bed in the middle of a client’s very luxurious hotel room in central London while said client, David Debussy, a regular, jerked off in front of him.
Shane’s brain felt woolly, and he knew he’d been slipped something. He cursed at his lack of observation and awareness. He never made mistakes like this.
Never.
Shane had met Debussy, as requested, at the five-star Baglione Hotel in Kensington and escorted the man through an interminably boring dinner for stockbrokers. But while the dinner had made him consider slitting his own throat, the man beside him had made it almost bearable. Shane enjoyed being with David. He’d partnered the man close to half a dozen times over the last year, very much as a companion only.
Not once during the previous “engagements,” as Shane’s exclusive escort agency, Carrington Knights, called them, had it turned into anything more than a quick kiss goodbye on the lips and a promise of another date soon. Shane had often left his engagements with David with a raging hard-on and had to make his way to the exclusive gay club in the middle of the West End. At Essence, Shane could usually find someone to alleviate his situation.
David was in his mid-twenties, a few years younger than Shane. He was charming, with deep russet hair, a physique like a Greek god, a backside that made Shane’s fantasies take free reign, and wealth from a trust fund his mother left him that made Konrad Feldman look like a pauper. He also had a domineering father who tried to rule David with an iron fist.
Debussy was intelligent, attentive, and as sexy as hell.
At the end of this evening, David had suggested Shane join him for a drink in his room. Shane had agreed. He had a firm policy about sleeping with his clients. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t fuck them all. He was choosy about whom he let take him home. He had to like the person, feel comfortable with them, and they had to make him horny. But after the second glass of champagne and a lot of hot and heavy kissing and crotch banging, he remembered nothing more. Until now.
Shane pulled at the cords that bound his wrists and ankles to the posts of a four-poster bed. There was no way he was getting out of the bindings any time soon. His naked body was splayed out on a luxurious Matelasse bed spread. The fierce erection that had sprung up when he and David were making out earlier had flagged.
He groaned, hoping to distract the man sitting on the corner of the bed close to him, frantically stroking his dick and looking as if he was going to let loose at any minute. The man’s eyes stared at him with a look of sheer greed, darting from Shane’s hairy chest to the blond line of hair that ran down to his groin. Shane thought gloomily that at the moment there wasn’t much to see. He blamed it on whatever drug he’d been given.
“Erm, David? Honestly, you didn’t have to go all this trouble to jack off. I would have done it for you, you know that. Maybe if you took these ties off me, I could finish the job? Hand or mouth, I don’t mind either way. If you want to top, that’s fine with me too. I mean, I’m not even that hard either, so maybe we can work on that. Give you something more to look at.” He grinned through gritted teeth. There was no way Shane was getting the bastard off but it didn’t hurt to let him think that. He was more likely to punch the sly bugger in the nose. He disliked being made a fool of.
David moaned but didn’t stop what he was doing. “God, Shane, you are just perfect any way, you know that? You have got the most incredibly sexy body. Not buff but really toned.” His plummy accent, which earlier had been very seductive to Shane’s ears, was now an irritating high-class whine in Shane’s brain. “I’m sorry I had to slip you something and tie you up, but I prefer you that way. “
Shane wondered if David had done this before and what the reaction had been from other men. He planned to make an example of the fact that it wasn’t the “done thing” in his book just as soon as David cut him loose.
“I really wanted you tonight, Shane. I liked undressing you while you slept, and then splaying you out like that for me to see.” The man shivered in ecstasy and Shane could see he was close to climaxing. “That’s what gets me off. I mean, I paid for you, right? So I should get what I want. The customer’s always right, correct?”
Who the fuck did this guy think he was, treating him like a piece of meat? He might have paid for the evening, but that didn’t give the bastard any right to do this to him.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
The whining increased, adding to the slow burn of fury that ebbed and waned through Shane’s chest. He gritted his teeth, needing to talk the other man into letting him go, not blasting him with a tirade of salty swear words Shane had learned from his fisherman grandfather. He had a rather profane mouth as a result.
“David, you look pretty close to eruption, so why don’t you let me go and I can help you with that? You like the look of my arse? Well, if you let me up, you can have it. It’s all yours.”
David moved closer to Shane, still tugging himself madly. David’s gasps grew more strident and louder as his body began to jerk uncontrollably. Shane closed his eyes in resignation. It was too late. The hot, wet, acrid-smelling ejaculate shot all over his stomach and groin as David directed it over him and shouted out in release.
Shane was bathed in white spurts of semen that shot across his lower belly like silly string, warming his flesh and leaving sticky snail trails. It wasn’t the first time he’d been bathed in the stuff, but it was the first time it had been done without his permission or willing participation. He opened his eyes to see David smiling at him.
“God, Shane, that was incredible,” David blabbered, missing Shane’s narrowed eyes and complete lack of humour as he bobbed around on the bed like a kid at Christmas. “Let me get those bonds off you. Hold on and I’ll untie you.”
A distinct sense of relief flooded Shane’s body that he wasn’t closeted with a psycho about to carve him up or rape him. He knew he’d been lucky tonight and that made him all the more mad. He didn’t like taking risks like this one.
Shane watched as the other man fiddled with the ankle restraints, and when he’d freed Shane’s legs, David moved up over Shane’s body to untie his wrists.
He was oblivious to the stillness of Shane’s body and the tensing of his muscles as he waited to be set free.
As soon as he unties that first one, I am going to fucking deck him right across his pretty face and beat the shit out of him.
A sense of satisfaction ran through Shane’s body as he planned his revenge. Just as David was about to untie his wrist, a mobile rang. Shane looked over at the antique escritoire where the noise was coming from.
“Untie me first, David. Then you can answer it.”
“That’s my dad’s ring tone,” the other man said, a look of abject fear on his face. “I have to answer it now. He wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
He darted off the bed. Shane groaned in exasperation. He was starting to feel cold, the sticky stuff on his stomach was irritating him and he wanted nothing more than a shower and to get home.
David picked up his phone and when he spoke, Shane could hear no trace of the usually confident man he’d been partnered with on and off over the past year.
“Dad? I’m sorry I took so long to answer. What can I do for you?”
Shane shook his head in disbelief.
The phone had only rung twice for God’s sake! How quickly was the bugger expected to answer it?
Shane moved his legs, trying to get the ache out of them after being bound. He desperately needed to pee. He watched in concern as David sank naked to the floor, his face going white, the phone still pressed to his ear.
“Dad, honest, that one isn’t my account. It’s Lewis’. I really don’t know what happened. You can’t blame me for this one.” His voice faltered and he closed his eyes with a look of complete misery. “I understand,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll be home soon and we can talk about it. I—” He cut his words off, moved the mobile away from his ear, and stared at it.
Shane imagined “Dad” had hung up in his mid-sentence. “David, for God’s sake can you let me loose? I really need a piss.”
David stood up, stumbled over to the bed and leaned over, his fingers struggling at the ties. His flaccid dick dangled in front of Shane’s face and Shane turned his face aside lest he get hit.
Shane’s desire to punch David had dissipated at the man’s obvious state of distress.
I’ll have it out with him later, let him know how I feel.
Finally the restraints were off and Shane sat up, rubbing his wrists and watching David sit trembling on the bed, his naked body goose pimpled as he wrapped his arms around his knees.
Shane sighed.
Christ, I’m not even going to get the satisfaction I deserve at this rate. The man is a bloody mess.
He stood up, padded butt naked over to the wall-to-wall cupboard and opened the doors. As he’d expected, there were extra blankets and a rather snazzy duvet. He pulled out the duvet, taking it back to the other man. He wrapped it around David’s naked shoulders. David looked up at him, his face stark.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Shane nodded and made his way to the bathroom, his bladder near to bursting.
After he’d relieved himself he came out to find David still sitting almost comatose on the bed.
Shane looked around for his clothes and found them neatly folded on the tapestry armchair. He got dressed, deciding he’d shower at home. It was no real hardship having drying semen all over. He’d experienced worse.
He moved over to the bed, sitting cross-legged next to David and reached over to flick a lock of stray, sweaty hair back from the man’s waxen face so he could see his eyes.
“So,” Shane said. “What’s the matter? Why has your father put a bug up your arse?”
David’s eyes were dark shadows in a pale face. He shrugged. “My dad lost a whole load of money. He blames me.”
Shane frowned. “Was it your fault –some stock broking decision you made?”
David shook his head. “No. It wasn’t my account. It was my brother, Lewis’.”
Shane looked at him, perplexed. “Then how come it’s your fault?”
“Because Lewis blamed
me
. He told Dad he was acting on my advice.” David fell silent. Shane’s teeth ground together as he tried to temper his frustration at being drip-fed morsels of information like a baby bird in a nest.
“And
did
you tell your esteemed brother Lewis what to do?”
David again shook his head. His hands were still twisting at the cover around his shoulders and he closed his eyes and lay down on the bed, his whole attitude one of defeat and resignation.
Despite his earlier ire, Shane’s heart went out to the man. He lay down behind him, his one hand trailing through David’s hair as he tried to get the full story. Shane thought it was just as well there was a thick duvet between them because the man in front of him was definitely starting to make him horny. The smell of sex still pervaded the air and David’s hair smelt of sandalwood. He cleared his throat.
“David. For God’s sake, please tell me the full story. I’m dying here. Why does your dad think it was your fault?”
David rolled over to face him. Shane caught his breath at the sight of his amazing hazel eyes filling with tears.
“Because whatever Lewis tells him, he’ll believe!” he spat out. “Lewis is straight. He likes women. I’m the fag son so in Dad’s eyes; I’ll never amount to anything. It’s always my fault. Ever since Mum died, he’s been worse.” Tears trickled down David’s tanned cheeks. Shane reached down and brushed them off with his thumb. His earlier irritation had vanished, although he’d make his displeasure known at some stage.
“Christ, David, then just tell him it wasn’t you that lost the money. Tell him it was your bloody brother.”
The other man shook his head. “Dad will never believe me and Lewis will just cover his arse anyway. He always has.” He picked at the coverlet. “Lewis and I have never been the best of brothers. He’s too like Dad.” He smiled. A twisted grimace marred his handsome features. “It was better when my mother was alive, but now she’s gone, I seem to be the odd one out.”
“And why are you so scared?” Shane asked. “What will your dad do to you anyway?”
David gazed at Shane, his eyes full of pain. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I need to get up and go home, face the music.” He reached one soft hand to Shane’s face and kissed his lips.
Shane reached for him, but David pulled away. “As much as I’d like that, I need to get going. I’m going to be late enough as it is.”
He rolled away from Shane and got off the bed, letting the duvet drop as he hunted around the bedroom for his clothes. Shane’s breath caught at the sight of the man, his taut backside with a slight tan line, his broad shoulders and the firm stomach. Not to mention what he had between his legs. Shane felt a pang of regret. The evening had not turned out the way he’d planned. He watched as David got dressed.
“David, exactly what will happen when you get home?” Shane couldn’t let it lie there. The man was terrified of something. He could see it in the trembling of his hands and the set cast of his face. “You’re bloody shaking, for God’s sake. Will your dad hurt you?”
“Let it go, Shane.” David’s voice was implacable. “Don’t ask me that. I promise you I’ll be all right.” But his voice didn’t sound sure. Shame moved off the bed, walking over to the other man who was now fully dressed and looking around for something.
“Where the hell are my bloody keys?” David muttered. “I know I had them here somewhere.”
Shane moved a tray that had the champagne on it, and pulled out the set of Porsche keys lurking underneath.
David smiled. “Thanks, Shane.” He picked up his grey jacket, strung it over his shoulder, and walked back to the bed. “I’ll be in touch about getting together again. I’m sorry it all went tits up. I’ll make it up to you soon, I promise.”