If It Fornicates (A Market Garden Tale) (9 page)

Spencer swallowed. “That would be best. I’ll get some oil and towels.”

“How far do you want me stripped?”

“Want? All the way. Need . . . I’d start in the small of your back.”

“For my shoulder?”

“It’s all connected. Sometimes the tension’s not all where it hurts.”

“As good an excuse to get your hands on my arse as I’ve ever heard,” Nick teased and headed to the bedroom. He stripped completely, largely for Spencer’s benefit, and lay flat on his belly, then supported himself on his elbows. That made a vertebra in his upper back pop, and he groaned.

Spencer came in from the bathroom, two large towels in one hand, and a bottle of massage oil in the other. He paused briefly, eyes trailing over Nick, and Nick smiled, flattered that the view could stop Spencer dead in his tracks.

“Okay.” Spencer shook himself and toed off his shoes before he climbed on the bed, too. “Lift up, please.” He slid one of the towels underneath Nick, and placed the other to the side, then opened the bottle and poured some oil into his palm. It smelled of herbs and almonds, an unusual combination, but oddly soothing. “It might hurt a bit,” Spencer said, “but if it hurts bad, let me know.”

“You bet.” Nick placed his forehead on his folded arms. “I don’t like pain.”

Spencer’s hands touched him in the middle of his back, the oil skin-warm. He shifted on the bed, and Nick realised Spencer was straddling him. He didn’t like the feeling of being trapped or immobilized, or really any kind of restraints, but Spencer wasn’t putting any weight on him, so Nick closed his eyes, slowly released his breath, and made himself relax. He trusted Spencer. If this got uncomfortable or he started to freak out because he thought he was being held down, Spencer would let him up without a second’s hesitation. Nick would be fine.

Spencer’s hands slid from Nick’s shoulder down towards his arse. Nick tensed, but Spencer stopped before he actually reached the glutes, pressing both palms in left and right of the spine. Sliding them up, his fingers splayed along Nick’s sides, moving and squeezing and pressing upwards. The touch was soothing and tender, yet Nick felt the strength in Spencer’s hands and arms, and he groaned with pleasure when slowly, some of Spencer’s warmth transferred to him. It was just blood flow, but within a few minutes, he felt hot and flushed, and at the same time, calm and boneless.

Once Nick’s body had relaxed a bit, Spencer moved up, sitting over Nick’s hips while he slid his hands higher.

“I’ll look into your shoulders now.”

“Okay.”

Both hands moved left, framing Nick’s shoulder, and then Spencer pulled it back a little with one hand while he dug in with the other. Something inside rubbed together like dry bones.

“There’s your knot. Well, knots.”

“Don’t ask me to make cogent conversation.”

Spencer chuckled. “Relax and think of England?”

Nick laughed softly. “Whatever.”

“Just keep breathing.”

Through gritted teeth, Nick said, “You giving orders now?”

“No.” Spencer pressed a little harder, sending an eye-watering bolt of red pain through Nick’s shoulder. “Just offering suggestions so you stay conscious.”

“Not sure I want to at this point.” Eyes shut tight, Nick pushed out a breath through his parted lips. “Fuck . . .”

“Quit fighting it.”

Nick started to protest, the Dom rearing his head and wondering just who the fuck Spencer thought he was, ordering Nick around, but Spencer’s comment drew his attention to where hands met shoulder, and he realised he
was
fighting him. Pulling back when Spencer pushed, stiffening muscles Spencer was trying to release.

Exhaling slowly, he willed himself to relax. The red faded. The tension started to ease. Spencer kept the pressure on the tender muscles, alternately kneading with his knuckles (which hurt) and the heel of his hand (which hurt less) until finally, the stiffness melted.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Nick slurred as his entire shoulder started to relax.

“Didn’t, to be honest.” Spencer was using his palms now, making firm circles over the area that he’d just worked on. “Guess I have a knack for it.”

“You should’ve gone into this line of work instead of the one you’re in.” Nick rolled his shoulder under Spencer’s hands. “You’re damned good at it.”

Spencer didn’t respond. He lifted one hand away and picked up the massage oil. Room temperature liquid pooled on Nick’s back beside Spencer’s other hand, like he’d poured it over the back of that hand and the excess was spilling onto Nick’s skin.

Spencer put the bottle aside, and then continued working on Nick. He inched towards Nick’s other shoulder, making smooth, slick circles and melting the tight muscles beneath them. By the time he had Nick’s right shoulder in his hands, it was almost as relaxed as the other one.

“Is conversation still out?” Spencer slowly applied more pressure to Nick’s muscles.

“It will be if you hit another knot like that other one, but we’re good for now.” Nick’s eyelids were heavy. “Assuming I don’t fall asleep.”

“If you’re that relaxed, be my guest.”

The room was silent except the soft hiss of slick hands over skin.

Nick brought up one arm and folded it under his head to prop himself up, and then turned so he could see Spencer in his peripheral vision. “Something on your mind?”

“I . . .” Spencer’s hands faltered before resuming their gentle circles. “Just thinking about a few things, but nothing . . . nothing earth-shattering.”

Nick’s shoulders may have been relaxed, but something knotted in his gut. “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity. What’s up?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment. Judging by the slower and slightly less focused motions of his hands, he was distracted. Thinking. Perhaps trying to form the words. Finally, “I was thinking about our conversation the other night. About things I want us to do together.”

“Mm-hmm?”

The motions were a little steadier and more confident now. “I guess it just got me thinking, and—” Words and hands both paused. Hands started again. Words still hung in suspended animation.

“You can ask for anything, Spencer,” Nick said softly. “There’s no rule against telling me what you like or what you think you might like.”

“It’s just your decision whether or not it happens?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.” Silence fell again, and Spencer kept rubbing Nick’s shoulder. “Do you ever let other men fuck you?”

Nick cleared his throat. “Are you asking if I let my clients fuck me? Or are you asking if I’ll let you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Which answer do you want more?”

The silence lasted awhile this time. Possibly a full minute or more, though Nick lost track of time as he tried to stay conscious while Spencer’s hands turned his bones to liquid. God in heaven, this man needed to change careers.

Spencer drew a deep breath. “Would you let me?”

There was no way Spencer missed the full-body shudder. Or the goose bumps prickling Nick’s scalp and all the way down to his feet. Especially the ones on the skin Spencer was still massaging.

“Is that what you want?” Nick asked.

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“Yes,” Spencer said without hesitation this time. “I want to.”

Nick swallowed. “To answer your other question, no, I don’t let my clients fuck me. And I’ve only ever let a few guys do it. Three I can think of.”

Spencer’s hands slowed, then resumed their perfect speed. “Oh.”

“And with those three,” Nick whispered, “I had to think about it for a long time. Psych myself up for it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not something I volunteer for without a lot of forethought.” He craned his neck a little, ignoring the vague strain it put on his sore muscles because he wanted to be able to see Spencer. “But the second you asked? The answer was yes.”

And I don’t know what to make of that.

Spencer looked surprised, then pleased, then happy. Adorable. Fucking adorable, that smile. There was nothing threatening about Spencer, nothing violent, nothing even inconsiderate. No macho posturing. Nick was even convinced that the massage hadn’t been the set-up to topping. Spencer had wanted to fix his shoulder more urgently than he had wanted Nick flat on his belly and receptive to the idea of a cock up his arse.

“I’d never hurt you, Nick.”

No way he could be more adorable. “I’d rip your balls off if you did.” Nick smiled. “Can’t promise I’d make bottoming a habit, either. I get a bigger kick out of topping. It’s no comparison.”

“But you . . . it’s fun for you, too?”

“Can be,” Nick replied cautiously.

Spencer leaned down again and kissed the side of Nick’s neck. “And vanilla sex. Do you ever do that?”

“It’s, well, vanilla. The flavour everybody likes and that’s a bit bland.” Nick shrugged, then rolled his shoulders. Sore, but different sore, which was a good sign. “Though I guess I could add some chili. Tying you up, handcuffs, that kind of thing.”

Spencer inhaled sharply. “I’d like that.”

“I know.” Nick chuckled. “Any more questions?”

“Have you ever been the sub?”

“No. Freaks me out. I dislike pain, humiliation turns me into a raging beast, and restraints are a shortcut to a nervous breakdown. I can’t cope.”

“Wow.” Spencer’s hands were sliding, but the movements now felt more like caresses than anything purposeful. “Then how did you learn domming? Is that something you can pick up from a book?”

“Oh, I’ve picked up a thing or two from books.” He tilted his head forward, arching his neck a bit, and Spencer took the invitation. Nick groaned as Spencer carefully kneaded his neck. Then he found his breath and remembered he’d been speaking. “A few books. That’s where I learned about the psychology of it. And a few—” He exhaled as Spencer’s fingertips trailed down the sides of his neck, the touch as erotic as it was relaxing. “Fuck, mate. You are
seriously
in the wrong line of work.”

Spencer laughed. He slid his fingers up into Nick’s hair, and Nick didn’t care if he had massage oil in his hair now, because bloody hell, that touch was amazing. More goose bumps, another shudder; it was a good thing Spencer had asked him earlier about being a sub, because when he had his hands on Nick like this, he could probably get Nick to do anything.

Then Spencer’s hands drifted back to Nick’s shoulders, and just rested there, a slightly heavy and pleasantly warm presence on muscles that felt nothing like they had earlier. “You were saying? About books and stuff?”

“Right. Right.” Nick pressed back against Spencer’s hands. “Books. A few pointers from guys with more experience.” He turned his head, resting it on his arm again. “I had a sub a while ago who had more experience than me, and he taught me a lot.”

“The sub taught you?” Spencer lifted one hand off his skin, then the other, and eased himself onto the bed beside Nick. “How does that work?”

“We’d talk beforehand. About what we both wanted out of a scene. What the limits were. And the more I got to know him and his wants and needs, the more I learned to be creative—and safe—about fulfilling them.” He turned onto his side and propped his head up with one hand. “And I watched a lot of porn.”

Spencer laughed. “Seriously?”

Chuckling, Nick shook his head. “No, I’m kidding. I mean, okay, I’ve watched a lot of porn. But that’s not where I learned to do the things I do.”

Spencer glanced down and then pulled the blanket up over Nick’s legs and arse. “You shouldn’t get cold,” he said absentmindedly.

There. The guy was just too caring for his own good.

“Porn did teach me a thing or two,” Spencer said, settling close enough to brush Nick, as if he needed the contact.

“Like?” Nick reached out to rest his hand on Spencer’s thigh.

“Well. That I’m most likely a bottom and that pain might be what I like. Part of me was, I guess, at war with my liberal values. Getting my head around my desires took a while, considering history and the inevitable race issues. So I didn’t do anything much, but I dreamed about kinkier sex, fantasised. Until I met you, vanilla worked for me, especially if I pretended . . . in my head.”

Nick nodded. “No wonder you fell asleep over files with the previous guy. You were holding yourself back. In my experience, as long as it’s not sick shit, I mean, criminal stuff, it’s better to simply accept it. Makes a hell of a difference in your life.”

“It does.” Spencer beamed at him.

Nick couldn’t help the chuckle. “You’re adorable like that.”

Spencer laughed. “Well. You’re not bad when you’re relaxed, either. I mean, you’re stunning when you’re beating the hell out of me, but I’m really into that other side of you. This one.”

“That’s lucky. As my boyfriend, you’re getting to see a lot of that.”

Spencer smiled. “
I’m
lucky.”

Nick sat up, though his shoulders protested the movement. Maybe mellow vanilla was really the only thing he was capable of now. “Strip,” he told Spencer.

Spencer’s brow creased, like he wasn’t quite sure if it had been a suggestion or an order. But then he visibly decided it was an order, or was at least to be treated like an order. He climbed off the bed and shed his clothes. Nick was pleased to see he was almost hard. Spencer moved back towards the edge of the bed.

“Get the handcuffs and lie on your back.”

Spencer fished the cuffs from the nightstand and stretched out in the middle of the bed. He lifted his arms up, and Nick closed one cuff around his wrist, then wove the chain and free cuff through the headboard’s bars, and closed the cuff around Spencer’s wrist on the other side.

Spencer was fully erect now, eyes focused on Nick. Nick trailed his fingers across Spencer’s chest. “Maybe I’ll have your nipples pierced,” Nick mused. “I could possibly do it myself.”

The small cringe was at least partly anticipation. “Your . . . yourself?”

“Mm-hmm.” Nick grinned. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Spencer nodded without hesitation, but his brow was still creased.

Nick reached up and caressed Spencer’s face. “Would you let me do that? Pierce your nipples?”