Bonds of Desire (2 page)

“That’s it.” The john surged harder, his leather pants grinding against Tyler’s flayed backside. He panted with his excursion, the sickening noise increasing with his rhythm. “Take it, you pussy.”

“Fuck,” Tyler croaked. Blackness clouded his vision and he shook his head to chase away the approaching darkness. He couldn’t black out. It wasn’t safe. Shit. He needed to get out. Allowing the next words out took every ounce of preservation he possessed. “I’m done.”

“You’re not done ’til I say you’re done.” Pain exploded from Tyler’s temple and blasted through his brain. The roaring throb pounded out a beat of defeat that he fought to resist. Fuck, fuck...he couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus. Everything hurt. But he had to stay conscious, no matter how much he wanted to drift away.

“Almost there,” the john huffed. “Earn it, boy.”

Earn it. What the hell did the asshole think he was doing? Was the man delusional enough to think he was actually enjoying this? Every part of him hurt, right down to his curled toes. Even the beatings he’d taken from his old man hadn’t prepared him for this level of all-encompassing pain.

A loud crash jerked Tyler out of his drifting numbness.

“Goddamn it.” The curse jarred the air with its violent strike. “Get off him. Now!”

“What the...” The john was ripped away from Tyler before he could finish.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a rough voice growled.

Tyler faced the wall, his back to the door, and he tried to jerk around to see what was happening. The movement sent another wave of fire over his back, stars blooming before his eyes once again. He gave up, slumping forward with a groan.

The
thump
of more boots joined the chorus of drums, and Tyler’s humiliation was solidified with the arriving cavalry. He closed his eyes. He could handle the embarrassment if he didn’t see their faces.

“Shit.” The soft curse was spoken at his side.

Gentle hands embraced his wrist, the pressure from the cuff slowly releasing. A groan tumbled from his lips at the biting pinpricks of pain that feasted on his numb arm.

“Easy,” the gruff voice spoke into his ear as he took Tyler’s weight, keeping him from falling when his other wrist was freed. Strong hands rubbed and kneaded his arms as the circulation slowly returned.

Even with his eyes closed, Tyler knew who was holding him. Just like every time he’d seen the other man at the club, he became instantly aware. His senses heightened, his body responding to the mere proximity of the powerful dominant.

Of all the men to find him at his weakest, it had to be Master Seth.

Dom. Club owner.

And the one man Tyler needed to stay away from.

Chapter Two

“You’re sure she’s coming?” Seth questioned Kendra once again, pacing to the window of his loft to stare out at the rain-streaked darkness before returning to stand by the couch.

The woman leaned into Deklan. They stood together by the front door, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. The simple form-hugging spandex dress was sleeveless, short and complemented her lean form. With Deklan in his standard black leather pants and T-shirt, the two were a daunting couple.

She nodded. “Yes. Allie said she’d be here as soon as she could.” Her Dom and lover hugged her close, his eyes narrowed at Seth’s doubt.

“Right.” Seth crouched next to the man lying facedown on his couch. Sick disgust traveled through his stomach at the sight of the bruised and tattered back. But even worse was the absent look of hopelessness that stared back from pale blue eyes. “We’ll take care of this, Taylor. He won’t get away with what he’s done.”

The man closed his eyes, not a single muscle on the rest of his body moving to respond to Seth. That alone was enough to have Seth vowing vengeance. He stood, the abrupt action making his knee pop in protest. He snaked his fingers through his hair and yanked the long mass away from his face. Cursing, he strode to the kitchen and tossed through a drawer until he found a rubber band at the bottom. Three hard tugs later, and the annoyance was tied back in a stubby tail at his nape.

“He should be at the hospital,” Kendra insisted, stepping out of Deklan’s arms to confront Seth as he left the kitchen. “What—”

“No.” The sharp denial, although low, made everyone stop.

Kendra persisted, turning to the injured man. “But you need—”

“No.” The bitterness in Taylor’s voice reached over the space to slap them all. The fire in his hard glare was the first emotion Seth had seen since they’d burst into the room to stop the abusive Scene. Conversely, it gave him hope. The incident hadn’t broken the young man.

Seth kneeled by the couch and raised a hand to still Taylor’s efforts to sit up. The smooth skin on the man’s shoulder was one of the few unmarred spots he could touch. Again, the sick disgust curled within him. Not at Taylor, but the man who’d done this to him.

And at himself for allowing it to happen.

“Stop,” Seth commanded and applied the slightest bit of pressure to the shoulder.

Taylor froze, his gaze dropping to the floor, a clump of black hair falling over his forehead to hide his eyes.

The brief glimpse of vulnerability almost shattered Seth. The muscles under his hand quivered in strain or alarm—he didn’t know which. But even the thought that this innocent sub might fear him made him pull away instantly. “Sorry. You...” He paused, swallowed. “I won’t hurt you.”

Taylor lowered his chest back to the cushions without responding, the small grimace was barely noticeable before the man hid his face in the pillows. The possessive feelings he’d felt toward this man increased with every second he was near him.

“I’ll make this right,” Seth vowed, his voice low and gritty with promise. He leaned into Taylor until his lips brushed the soft tips of hair over the man’s ear. The lingering scent of orange drifted over him, diminishing the stronger antiseptic smell. “I’ll take care of you. You have my word.”

The man inhaled, his hand clenched into a fist before Seth leaned back. He scanned the sub’s damaged back, the torn skin having been tended to by the club’s medical staff. The wounds had been cleaned and treated with antibiotics, but some of the deeper cuts contained small pools of fresh blood. More than one dipped beneath the waistband of the loose cotton pants the medics had given Taylor to wear.

Seth squeezed his eyes shut, unable to think of the hidden damage. Had they really allowed a sub to be hurt this badly? How?

He glanced at Deklan. The rigid stance and stone-cold face said it all. As head of security, Deklan took this incident as personally as Seth. Bringing Taylor to the privacy of Seth’s loft located over the club was the only way they’d gotten Taylor to agree to having his injuries cared for.

The ones he let them tend to, at least.

A brisk knock broke the silence. Kendra rushed to answer the door before Seth could stand. Beside him, Taylor withdrew even more. He turned his head into the pillow and tucked his fist under his chest in a move that made him appear smaller than his six-foot frame really was.

“Allie,” Kendra said as she swung the door open and grabbed the other woman’s hand to tug her inside. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s late.”

“It’s all right.” Allie dismissed her worries before stopping to give Kendra a thorough scan. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kendra reassured her. “It’s not me.”

The lawyer released a long breath before darting her gaze around the room. Her brief show of relief was quickly stashed behind a professional demeanor. “What’s going on?”

Seth straightened. “I asked Allie to call you.”

“Why?” Allie swept by Kendra and moved toward Seth. The loud
click
of her heels on the hardwood dulled to a muted
thump
as she stepped onto the area rug. She stopped before Seth, her focus holding on Taylor. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Seth’s denial shot down his spine.

“No, Allie,” Kendra exclaimed, jumping to his aid. “Seth didn’t do this. It was another Dom. That’s why we need your help.”

Allie focused back on him, her eyes narrowed. She pursed her lips and tucked her long spiral curls behind her ear in an impatient gesture. The thick mass sprang from the precarious hold almost immediately. Her assessing glance held on his mouth before it descended. Seth barely resisted the urge to wet his lips.

The tailored cut of her suit curved over her slim form. It nipped and tucked in the right places to accentuate her full breasts, thin waist and long legs. A hint of silver lace breached the juncture of the jacket, providing a touch of femininity to offset the harsh black color of the suit. By comparison, the suit made the low-cut red number she’d worn to The Den’s Mardi Gras party look daring and naughty. Two very different yet enticing sides of the same sexy woman.

“Taylor was a guest.” Seth tilted his head to the man in question. “He was hurt by the member who brought him.” His jaw clenched against the anger that rose once again.

“I thought this was a members-only club. How’d he get in?”

Deklan spoke up to answer Allie’s question. “As a private guest of a club member. Taylor passed a clearance level, just like you did for the Mardi Gras party.”

The small swallow was the only tell Allie gave to the reference of her one visit to the club. Her inexperience with the BDSM scene had been blatantly clear back then. “Then how was he hurt?”

“It was my fault.” The muffled voice came from the couch.

“
No
,” Seth insisted in unison with Deklan and Kendra. The three voices echoed off the open space and high ceilings of his loft. Seth rested a hand on the top of the man’s head in a small gesture of comfort. “No,” he repeated softly. “It wasn’t your fault.” What would it take to get Taylor to accept that he wasn’t to blame?

Allie stepped up next to Seth. A low inhale leaked over to him. She clenched her briefcase tighter as she took in the full state of Taylor’s back. She looked up at Seth. Questions and doubt radiated from her eyes.

“I know you do pro bono work,” Kendra said from behind them. “We’re hoping you can advise Taylor on his rights.”

Allie nodded, but her focus stayed on Seth. “Don’t you have a lawyer?”

“The Den does. But you’re here to advise him. What the club does is independent of what Taylor does.”

She continued to stare at him, not even a blink to break the hold. Did she see his guilt? Doubt his intent? Know his desire to see her bound and kneeling at his feet?

She turned away and set the briefcase down, the plush rug dulling the sound. Her gaze slid over Taylor one more time before she looked back to Seth. Grim determination settled over her features. “Would you all please excuse us? I need to talk to my client in private.”

* * *

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” Kendra said, her brow wrinkled in concern. “Cali’s down there too. Call if there’s anything we can do.”

“Thank you.” Allie pasted on a tight smile to reassure her friend. “I’ll let you know.” With a last glance at the injured man on the couch, Kendra left the loft.

The quiet patter of rain dominated the room now that everyone had left. Allie sunk into the stiff chair Seth had placed by the couch and tried not to sigh. Kendra’s call for help had caught Allie at work, even though it’d been after ten o’clock on a Friday night. The adrenaline rush from the stressful drive through the early July downpour had faded into the dull flow of exhaustion. A state she was used to working through.

Her relief at finding Kendra unharmed had evaporated when she’d seen the battered condition of the man lying before her. Her gaze skimmed over his back and she silently cursed the person who could do that to someone. The bright red stripes stuck out in sharp contrast to his pale skin, crisscrossing from his shoulder to the waistband of his pants and below. She swallowed back the rise of disgust that churned in her stomach and rose up her throat.

Is that what Kendra had endured? Her friend had suffered abuse like this from her ex-boyfriend and Dom. It was horrifying to Allie. She couldn’t imagine the pain. But Kendra had found something better with Deklan. Maybe Allie could help this man see that he deserved better too. At the very least, she’d make sure he got the medical attention he needed.

She’d become a lawyer partly because it allowed her to help others. But the more her law firm pigeonholed her into corporate negotiations and acquisitions, the more impersonal it became. Her pro bono work kept her grounded to the personal side of the law. And this man obviously needed help. It would be a perfect fit if it wasn’t for the overwhelming Dom in the other room.

Her gaze skidded to the closed door where Seth Mathews had retreated. He had dominated too many of her fantasies since her one and only visit to The Den over four months ago. Not that she would ever act on any of them.

Gathering her energy reserves, she shifted to the side in an attempt to get a look at the man she’d agreed to help. His face remained hidden within the pillows, an act that spiked her curiosity and her empathy. This would be hard for anyone to handle, and his actions proved he wasn’t enjoying the attention.

But he wasn’t to blame. The challenge would be in getting him to accept that fact. She needed to earn his trust before she had any chance of helping him. Fortunately she was used to dealing with proud men. She’d learned the subtle art of getting a man to bend from growing up with three older brothers. Her testosterone-dominated career demanded she apply the skill almost daily.

The adrenaline kicked back in to prep her for the coming encounter. She had to prove she was there for him, no matter what. How she handled the next few minutes would determine if she had any chance of helping this man. And for some reason, she really wanted to be there for him.

Chapter Three

Tyler ground his forehead into the pillow, wishing like hell he was anywhere but there. He inhaled and almost choked on the rich scent that flooded his system. The tang of soap and aftershave blended together to provide an aroma he instantly recognized as Master Seth. How could he possibly react to another man after what he’d just been through?

He really must be one sick bastard, just like his old man had always said.

“Taylor.” The feminine voice broke into Tyler’s metal recriminations. “I’m Allison English. I’m a lawyer and I’d like to talk to you about what happened.”

He snorted into the pillow. That’s what everyone wanted to do when all
he
wanted to do was
not
talk about it. His neck and face flushed hot with embarrassment until it rivaled the heat radiating from his back. The ointment the medics applied helped to numb the pain, but nothing could take away the humiliation that came with each movement he made.

Flashes of the last two hours blazed through his mind and he reflexively clenched his ass cheeks as if he could ward off the events. Fierce, stinging pain raced up his crack and shot into his gut. His insides compressed against the fire. He gulped for air in an attempt to hold back the cry that ended up eking out in a pathetic whimper.

Shit
.
This was bad.
He didn’t even need the telltale sign of the warm liquid easing over his balls to tell him that. Hopefully, the black material of the pants hid the evidence of just how seriously he was hurt. But then, Master Seth, Master Deklan and God knew how many other people had gotten a view of that when they’d barged into the room.

He had to get out of there.

“Taylor,” the voice persisted. “Will you talk to me? I’d like to help.” Gentle fingers stroked through his hair, brushing back the strands that hung over the side of his face before continuing in a repetitive pattern over his scalp. It was soothing, that touch. One he wanted to lean into.

“Tyler,” he barked out in defense, tensing away from the offered comfort. Pain stabbed through his skull at the sudden movement. Shit.
Breathe.

“What?” The confusion transferred in her voice. She shifted back, the subtle scent of her floral perfume leaving with her.

He turned his head just enough so his mouth wasn’t buried in the pillows. “Name’s Tyler.”

“I’m sorry. I thought they said Taylor.”

“They did.” He dug up his rough, street-hardened voice. “That’s my professional name. Tyler’s my real name.”

“Oh.” The soft exclamation was accompanied by a shifting of material, and Tyler imagined her crossing her legs. Like the change in position allowed her to follow his change in conversation. “Okay, Tyler. So what happened?”

“Don’t you care about my profession?” He put as much sneer and derision into the question as he could find. Shocking the seemingly prim lawyer into retreating was his only way out. It wasn’t like he could be degraded worse than he already was. Hell, he’d hit rock bottom of the shame pool tonight.

“Is your profession relevant to what happened tonight?”

The proper diction came across so distant and formal. It rubbed against Tyler’s soiled upbringing, making him madder. He’d bet money that the good little suit had never felt the hollowness of an empty stomach or the desperation that came with it. He fisted that anger around him and held on to the one thing that would keep him from breaking apart completely.

“I’m a male escort,” he ground out. “The fucker paid me, so I let him do this.”
Bitch
. But he didn’t say that last world out loud. She didn’t deserve that level of disrespect. No one did.

This time there was no movement. Not a rustle of clothing or inhale of breath to give away her reaction. The silence ticked away, broken by the low
thump
of his toes beating a random rhythm against the soft leather of the couch. It was his focus point to distract from the pain. A trick he’d learned as a child.

The waiting game played on for several minutes before he gave in to curiosity and stole a glance at her from under his bangs. Deep brown eyes stared back at him. Ones that seem to peer into his soul in the heartbeat it took before he could close his eyes once again.

“I’m not running if that’s what you hoped to accomplish.” She gave a light laugh. “It’ll take more than that to scare me away.”

He lifted to snarl an angry retort. The sudden movement jarred his back and morphed his low growl into a hiss as the needles speared down his spine straight into his ass.
Son of
... He gulped back the sting and gritted his teeth, taking low, measured breaths until the pain and throbbing subsided.

Her hand was back, stroking his hair in gentle motions.
Damn
,
not the tears.
He couldn’t give into them.
He couldn’t break.
He took another breath. “I don’t need your help. Don’t
want
your help.”

“Maybe not.” The strokes continued over his scalp, the repetition comforting. “But I want to give it. You’ve been hurt and it doesn’t matter if the man paid you. No one asks for something like this.” He squeezed his eyes tight to hold back the burn behind his lids. “I’d like to take you to the hospital.”

The gentle timbre of her voice, the obvious concern behind each touch, each word she said had him so close to giving in. How long had it been since he’d felt this cared for? Too long to even remember.

“I can’t afford it,” he mumbled into the pillow. He’d been around enough to know he’d need more than Neosporin and ibuprofen to feel better. And since he’d apparently thrown away his pride with his dignity, he could at least hang onto his brains and accept the bit of help he knew he needed. She’d gotten rid of the audience, an act that already had him owing her.

“I’ll make sure The Den takes care of the medical expenses.” Again there was silence as she waited for him to respond. This woman seemed to be made of patience, or maybe she was just used to dealing with stupid assholes.

“I’m too ashamed,” he admitted before his brain sent the cease and desist order to his mouth. He clenched his fist, the tension extending to ripple across his shoulder blades and set off another flash of sizzling pain.
Fuck
. The toe-tapping increased, his focus returning to the accelerated beat until he could breathe evenly once again.

“How old are you, Tyler?”

Did he really want to admit that? He’d purposely played up his boyish appearance once he’d discovered the number of dirty older men who were willing to pay for that illusion. Somehow it made the well of shame feel even deeper when he’d thought he’d already hit the bottom. “Twenty-eight.”

Almost thirty, and he couldn’t even face the woman who was offering to help him. Now he felt as old as the youth he portrayed. Was the night ever going to end? Finding the bitter edge of his humility, he turned his head and lowered his arm until he could see her.

She sat back with his movement. Her hand dropped from his hair, the offered serenity going with it. He took her in, casting a long trail from the top of her curly brown hair over her expensive-looking business suit, past her crossed legs to the black, pointy-toed heels. She didn’t fidget, not even a little. She simply held her hands in her lap and watched him.

“Did I pass?” The lightness in her tone showed amusement, not anger. His gaze shot to hers just to be sure. She smiled, her broad mouth filling her face with kindness. “The inspection. Did I pass?” She tilted her head, curls tumbling over her shoulders to spring on her chest.

Tyler stared into her big brown eyes, unable to answer. Her eyes fit her mouth, large but not overwhelming. They balanced her face and seemed to match the rich brown of her hair color almost perfectly. Or was it the other way around?

He bit his cheek and willed himself to respond. He wasn’t a kid, no matter how it appeared. “Yeah. Did I?”

Her smile widened and her eyes crinkled just a touch at the corners. “Yes. You did.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, a cloak of seriousness descending with her dimming smile. “Will you let me help you? We can take it in stages. But I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe and cared for.”

He swallowed but didn’t look away. “Why?”

She furrowed her brow. “Because you need help.” Her tone stated the answer like it was obvious.

“That’s never mattered before.”
Christ
. The statement sounded even more pitiful when said out loud. Apparently the dick that’d been jammed up his ass earlier had banged against his brain and knocked the sense out of him too.

The concentrated study that marred her features morphed to understanding. At least it wasn’t pity. “It matters to me.” She smiled, the kindness reaching out to wrap around him. “You matter to me.”

Well
,
shit.
“You don’t even know me,” he growled, pushing back. Of all the things she could have said, he’d never expected that.

“I don’t need to know you to help you.”

“I can’t pay you.”

She shook her head. “This isn’t about money.”

“Then what’s it about?” The doubt made his voice sharp and bitter, matching the taste in his mouth. In his experience, people didn’t help someone unless there was something in it for them.

She stared at him. Her lips compressed before she leaned forward so her face was even with his. She peered into him, searching out things no one else had ever bothered to hunt for. It made him feel more exposed and vulnerable than the pain did. “It’s about me helping you. That’s all. No tricks. No judgments. No expectations.” Her voice was as gentle and honest as the truth conveyed in her eyes.

What was it about her that had him wanting to believe and accept all she was offering? Because what she was presenting seemed like much more than a trip to the hospital.

“Okay.” He cleared his throat, his face flushing at both the word and how pathetic it sounded. It’d been so long since he’d accepted anyone’s help that it felt as rusty as the tenderness had earlier. But then, he’d do just about anything to get the fucking night to end.

* * *

“Good.” Allie let her breath out, careful to keep her relief from showing. “You can trust me.”

He glanced down, and she sat back, taking a second to mentally outline her next steps. His every action proved he didn’t hold faith in her pledge, which only made her conviction to help him even stronger. She wouldn’t be another in the apparently long line of people who had let him down.

“I’m only going to the hospital,” he asserted, looking back to her. “That’s all.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s the priority.” She’d tackle the rest later. Taking a quick breath, she stood and stepped away from the chair. “I’ll get Seth to help you to my car.”

“No.” His firm tone halted her movement. “I can do it myself.” He pushed up, raising his chest off the cushions. His breath inhaled as a hiss passed through his clenched teeth.

“Stop.” Allie dropped to her knees and squeezed his forearm until he looked at her. “You’re hurting yourself.”

He features were sharp and strong in an almost graceful way. Pulled tight in pain, his cheekbones and jaw defined his resolve. His eyes flashed blue sparks of determination as his pride snapped out to bite at her.

“I can do it,” he grit out between deep breaths before his lips thinned and he pushed up farther. He shifted his knees under him before he gasped and locked his elbows to keep his arms stiff. His muscles trembled under the strain, defining the effort it took for him to hold the position.

“Just wait.” Ignoring Tyler’s protest, she stood and called out to Seth. The stubborn man was going to hurt himself worse.

The door flew open, and Seth stormed in on a wave of anger and worry. “What?” The deep demand burst through the open space. Tyler flinched then groaned.

“I said wait.” She put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder to halt his movement and shot a glare at Seth. Dressed in all black, his mood was as dark as his clothing. “He needs your help getting up.”

The next instant, Seth was there to grip Tyler under his arms. He lifted the man up, providing support as Tyler dropped his feet to the floor. He let out a muted whimper and sank into Seth’s chest. He dug his forehead into the solid shoulder, his shallow breaths as telling as his white-knuckled grip on Seth’s waist.

“Christ.” Seth’s low curse had Allie’s gaze jerking up to stare into his face. There was remorse, pain and genuine concern etched into the strong features. But it was the tilt of his head toward Tyler’s, the closed eyes and the tender way he whispered soothing words to the other man that sucked the breath from her lungs.

Her stomach tightened and her mouth went dry. The unexpected intimacy between the two men shocked her immobile. Were they a couple? Lovers? Master and sub? How did this world work? She was completely out of her element and had no idea how to proceed.

The fact that her two closest friends had both found happiness being spanked by Doms didn’t mean she understood it. Did Doms have both male and female subs, or was Seth gay? Had she missed that fact when she was flirting with him at the Mardi Gras party? She assumed Tyler was gay, given what he’d said about how he was injured.

But the sight of them together wasn’t repelling. No. If anything, it was alluring. They were both handsome, strong men, and seeing them in such an affectionate embrace made her burn with an unknown longing. Out of nowhere the image of the two men kissing flooded her mind. It would be hard and tender, a show of strength tempered by passion. Tyler only had to turn his head for it to happen.

What am I thinking?

Abruptly she cleared her throat and spoke to Seth. “How can we get him to my car?”

He opened his eyes, his hard stare daring her to contradict him. “We’ll take mine. It’s closer.”

For some obstinate reason, she wanted to argue but didn’t. “Fine. Where is it?”

“In the parking garage. The elevator goes straight there.”

Tyler grunted and pushed away from Seth to straighten. Tyler clenched the other man’s hips and swayed slightly before steadying. His harsh breaths cut through the room, slowly easing as he got the pain under control. Sweat glistened on his back from the effort and highlighted the damage with a shiny gloss that had to sting the fresh wounds.