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Authors: Catt Ford

BOOK: A Strong Hand
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"Did you like it?" Nick murmured between kisses.

"Very much," Damian responded softly. "Did you?"

"Yeah. Just remembering it makes me hot."

"I had noticed that," Damian said, insinuating one leg between Nick's and rubbing their erections together.

"Were you going to do something about it?" Nick asked provocatively.

"Why is it always my job?" Damian complained facetiously.

"You're the Top," Nick pointed out. "Besides, you like doing things to me."

"I do," Damian confessed. "But I had other plans for today.

I was going to go ride my horse."

"I don't think I could do much horseback riding today,"

Nick said ruefully, wiggling his arse, knowing that Damian was watching in the mirror.

"Maybe you could ride something else?"

"What did you have in mind?" Nick whispered.

Damian slid his hands over Nick's buttocks, patting them gently. "I could give you a hint."

"Surprise me," Nick said and kissed the older man.

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Damian broke the kiss and took the boy by the hand, leading him back to the bed. They fell onto the mattress with Damian on top.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry." Damian didn't release Nick, but he flipped them over so that the boy was on top.

In the ascendant position for the first time with Damian, Nick attacked his mouth, kissing him aggressively and grinding his hips so their cocks rubbed together. He moved so that the light hair on Damian's chest tickled him. The memory of the previous evening's activities combined with the visual evidence left on his buttocks made him burn for release. His hips moved faster as his excitement built.

"Baby, please, ride me," Damian whispered. "Take control."

Nick paused to consider what he'd been offered. "How—"

"Kneel over me," Damian ordered. "I'll get you ready." He reached for the lube as Nick balanced on his hands and knees.

His back arched sensuously when Nick felt fingers caress his hard shaft, fondle his balls, and finally find his secret opening. He arched his back, rocking to encourage the fingers. "Oh yes," he hissed with pleasure as they entered his tender hole.

"God, you look so hot fucking yourself on my fingers,"

Damian muttered.

"Wait'll you see me fuck myself on your cock," Nick gasped.

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Damian looked up startled, to find a wickedly provocative smile on his young lover's face. "I think maybe I created a monster," he said.

"No, I was always a monster," Nick said. "Just ask my mother."

"Can it wait 'til after I fuck you senseless?" Damian asked somewhat breathlessly as Nick positioned himself above the older man's cock, and Damian finished rolling on the condom.

"I think that might be better," Nick agreed. He lowered himself, freezing at the first moment of penetration to allow himself time to adjust. "I want you to concentrate ... on what you're ... doing."

Damian moved his hands to support Nick's trembling thighs. "I'll do my best, babe."

"I guess that's all I can expect of you," Nick teased. His eyes rolled back in his head as he allowed himself to slide further down on Damian's cock. He groaned when the hard shaft rubbed over his prostate and he was fully impaled. In this position, Damian was buried deeper inside him than he had ever experienced. Having the older man inside him was unbearably arousing and for a moment Nick gave himself over to exploring the ability the man had to make him feel as if he was submitting even when he was on top.

He leaned forward to kiss the other man, pulling himself off, until the head of Damian's cock bumped at his entrance, before he plunged down again on the hard flesh, feeling Damian penetrate him a second time.

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"Ride me, baby," Damian ordered and Nick hastened to obey, raising himself and letting gravity sink the large intruder deep inside.

Damian held him still and thrust up powerfully inside his young lover, fucking him hard and fast, until the boy was panting, his eyes wild with need. Damian braced his feet, slapping their flesh together.

"Stroke yourself for me," he commanded, and Nick leaned his weight on one hand, using the other to jack himself in time to the powerful thrusts, moaning as he started to come, spurting over Damian's chest, the glistening fluid matting his hair.

He clenched around the older man and the tightness and heat made Damian come with a shout, driving up hard inside Nick.

His hips fell back on the bed and Nick fell forward limply, resting his forehead on Damian's shoulder. "Fuck," he groaned.

"Give me a little time to reload, baby, and I'm your man,"

Damian joked weakly.

"Yes," Nick breathed and Damian wondered what he was agreeing to.

Damian realized that Nick had gone to sleep when he heard a faint snore. Straining, he lifted the boy up and off him, settling him on his side. Exhausted, he dropped the condom on the floor by the bed, figured the hell with it, they'd just have to be sticky when they woke up, and curled up protectively around his slender lover.

* * * *

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They spent a lazy Sunday napping, eating, watching television, sometimes with the sound off, and talking.

Cupping Nick's scarred hip in his hand, Damian asked,

"How did you get that scar? You said it was an accident."

Nick closed his eyes briefly.

"I'm sorry." Damian bit his lip. "You don't have to tell me if it makes you feel uncomfortable to remember it."

"It's not the accident. I really don't remember much about it," Nick said soberly. "It was my mother's face when I woke up in hospital. You see—" He cut himself off when his voice trembled and looked up at the ceiling. "They said I might not walk again."

Horrified, Damian took Nick's hand in his and gave it a squeeze, trying to convey his sympathy without words.

Nick gulped a few times and laughed shakily. "I was lying there looking up, wondering if I was going to be staring at ceilings for the rest of my life."

"What happened?"

"I was riding my motorcycle; too fast, the police said."

Nick shrugged. "They're probably right. I always liked speed.

I went down on a curve. I don't remember why. Smashed the bike up as well as my hip."

Damian sucked in a breath. "I'm sure your mother was more concerned about you."

"Yeah, she and my dad. Internal bleeding, broken hip that had to be put back together; two plates and sixteen screws.

Months of physical therapy to get me back on my feet." Nick 230

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shook his head. "My sister was pretty pissed at me too, but she was always there for my sessions."

"Sounds like you have a nice family," Damian offered tentatively.

"That was the worst part," Nick said. "I never meant to make them worry about me."

Intuitively guessing what the young man left out—the fear that he'd end up in a wheelchair, the pain he'd endured through his recovery, the regret for hurting his parents and sister through his own carelessness—Damian turned the subject.

"And the tattoo?"

Nick looked down at the bird, with its wings raised in flight, each feather tipped in flame. "When I knew I was going to walk again—"

"A phoenix," Damian said softly.

"That's me. Crash and burn, and then rising up from the ashes," Nick said, his tone mocking.

"It takes courage to do that, Nicky. I think it was a good way to commemorate winning what must have been a very difficult challenge."

"Thanks." Nick looked gratified, as if he had never thought he'd done much worthy of admiration.

"So you liked motorbikes."

"And surfing, skydiving, dirt biking, snowboarding," Nick said regretfully.

"Skateboarding?"

"I used to shred, man."

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"You're an adrenaline junkie. How come you don't do any of that anymore?"

"I promised my parents I wouldn't worry them like that again." Nick sighed. "No more motorcycle."

Damian chuckled.

"It's not funny. I miss doing all those things. I always managed some kind of part-time job to pay for them."

"I wasn't laughing at you," Damian explained. "I was just thinking if you hadn't made that promise, you might never have found your way into my clutches."

"What do you mean?" Nick asked, although he was beginning to feel he might have a clue.

"Nothing gets the adrenaline rushing like this, does it?"

Nick stared at him, his mind racing.

Damian stared back, wondering if he was nothing more than a substitute for high-octane sports. Perhaps when the novelty began to wear off, Nick would be gone, looking for new thrills somewhere else. He sighed and looked away, wondering if the novelty of getting to know this fascinating, complicated young man would wear off for him too.

"I never thought of it that way."

Damian began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking about what your parents would say if you told them about the new hobby you've found to keep yourself occupied." Damian grinned at the stricken look on Nick's face.

"Yeah, I'm sure they'd be thrilled." Nick's horrified expression faded as he laughed, gleefully adding, "They'd 232

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probably want to meet you, make sure you played safe.

Wouldn't you if you had a kid?"

"My son is a little young for this yet, but yeah, I would want to be sure he had good enough self-esteem to keep himself safe. I wouldn't feel like I'd done my job if Wyatt stumbled into this and got hurt," Damian said seriously.

"You have a kid?" Nick sounded amazed and drew away a bit. "I thought you were gay."

"I am, but I didn't always know it," Damian said. "My ex and I married young. I was seventeen, she was eighteen. I thought I'd found the perfect woman. She was a tomboy and an athlete, lanky and tall. Kind of boyish." He shook his head regretfully. "She was the one who figured out I was gay, and broke the news to me."

"That must have been ... devastating," Nick said tentatively.

"Especially since we'd just had our son. She thought she couldn't get pregnant because of all her running, but surprise." Damian looked out the window and took a deep breath. "The hardest thing was not being able to live in the same house with my son, watching him grow and change every day."

His voice soft with sympathy, Nick asked, "How do you deal?"

"You just do." Damian seemed to realize his voice was harsh and softened it. "It wouldn't have been good for Wyatt anyway to be known as my son. My work was beginning to attract attention and I never wanted to subject him to the kind of publicity that goes along with being sexually 233

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controversial. That kind of attention can be unhealthy for a kid. That's why I changed my name also."

"Damian isn't your real name?"

"Neither is Wolfe. I thought it gave me an aura of menace." Damian laughed, sounding anything but menacing.

"So what's your real name, then?"

Damian groaned. "Thomas Reynaud."

"I like that," Nick said thoughtfully.

"Doesn't pack quite the punch as Damian Wolfe, though."

"No, but it's nice. And your son's name?"

"Wyatt Reynaud," Damian said, his voice softening. He held out his arm so that Nick could see the initials W.R.

tattooed on the inside of his wrist. "He's a great kid. Very creative, very sweet."

"You must miss him."

"I do. I go to the states at least once a month, or he comes here. Right before I hired you, he'd been with me for several months while his mother was doing circuit races."

Damian got up and brought a framed photo back to Nick.

"That's him."

Nick chuckled as he took in the typical school portrait against a blue backdrop, having expected something a little more artsy from the famed photographer. "He's a cute kid."

"He's great." Damian took the picture back and stared at it as if he could feel his son's presence through the medium of the photograph. "I've been meaning to take some shots of him myself."

"I bet his mum would like that," Nick offered. "A chance to see her son through your eyes."

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"Yeah, I bet she would." Damian set the photograph back on the bookshelf, surprised at Nick's insight.

"Does she...? How do you two—" Nick paused, unsure of how to phrase his question.

"She was amazingly great about it and we're still friends.

Turns out, she'd already fallen in love with someone else so she had it easier than me. I had to adjust to a whole new way of thinking of myself. A gay man."

"Who likes to spank people."

"Not people. Men." Damian gave Nick a wicked grin. "After working out that I was gay, the spanking part was easy."

"Easy for you," Nick grumbled, rubbing his arse.

"Come here. I can help with that." Damian drew Nick to lie face down over his lap and pushed his pajama bottoms down.

"You're not going to spank me again, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm just putting some gel on it." Damian reached for the tube and asked, "What are you going to do when you graduate?"

"I would like to continue to work for you, if you'll have me," Nick said tentatively. "I have to have some kind of job.

And maybe find some studio space. It costs a lot to have your own kiln, so maybe I could share with someone."

"Can I see some of your work?" Damian asked, guilty that he'd never thought of asking before.

"Are you really interested or are you just asking because we're ... fucking?" Nick asked, blushing. "I'm not in your league at all. I'm just a student."

"I'd like to see your work. I already like your aesthetic, and I think you have good instincts," Damian said. He decided 235

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