Striped (4 page)

How did they expect him to sleep after imagining something like that?

Sean kicked off the sheet and stood, pacing in the hot darkness of the cabin. The air conditioner was on, but it was no match for the near-record temperatures that turned the air into a stifling, humid blanket.

It wasn’t that he was hurting for sexual partners. He was hot, and he knew it. He could go into any bar in the UP and probably leave with a guy. He’d be real careful, because it wasn’t the most enlightened place he’d ever been, but he didn’t doubt that at least some of the beard growin’, plaid wearin’ Paul Bunyan types in town spent more time in the closet than they did in the woods.

He’d done the promiscuous thing, though, and it hadn’t been as fun after a few years. He really wanted a fresh start, and he didn’t want to complicate his standing in Gwinn Close. But it was getting harder to toe the line without some other outlet for his…stress.

It wasn’t that he’d replaced sex with chasing down innocent residents of the community. That would be just silly. It was just that it was harder to control his tiger when he wasn’t being bad in human form. He didn’t want to have to leave the sanctuary, but he didn’t want to be pacing like a caged animal, either. And that was exactly what he was doing, looking out the front windows at the dark lake. A few lights glimmered on the opposite side, from the houses the richer members of Gwinn Close could afford to live in. They all managed to fit in and be normal, or as normal as shifters could be. What the hell was his problem?

Even if it was a matter of just letting Jason and Mitchell go to town on him with a paddle and restraints, would it be worth it to change something that seemed an integral part of his experience as a shifter?

The answer his dick would give would be an unequivocal “yes”. Though both of them were older than Jason by at least fifteen years, they were scorching hot. Jason in that dark, chiseled-yet-boyish, George Clooney kind of way, and Mitchell in a blond, all-American hottie way. They looked like they should be coaching high school basketball or something and making all the moms swoon. Instead, they’d founded Gwinn Close. Maybe that’s how they’d channeled all that extra tiger energy.

He didn’t believe for a moment that the guys were trying to scam an easy lay. He could have told in the first five minutes of meeting either of them that they just weren’t like that. What he feared was that they were right, they’d be able to “tame” something in him, something he wasn’t sure he wanted suppressed.

But the thought of being on his knees before them, possibly bound, totally at their mercy…his cock hardened and he reached down to cup himself, shivering at the touch of his own hand.

Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was in his hand, and he pulled up Mitchell’s number. It was late, but what the hell. They wouldn’t kick him out of the community for a late night booty call, would they?

Jason answered on the second ring, and Sean swallowed before he said, “Hey. It’s Sean.”

Dead silence met him on the other end of the line, then Jason laughed, the sound drenched in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be.”

“Sorry?” Sean smoothed the palm of his free hand down his thigh, using tremendous willpower to not start jacking off while they talked on the phone. No, that was definitely bad manners.

“Nothing. Just the other day, something Mitchell said. What do you need?”

Your cock in me.
Sean cleared his throat. “I was thinking it might be a good idea to take you guys up on your offer.”

Silence again, and then Jason said, “How soon can you be here?”

It was tempting to drop the phone and sprint to the car right then. But he didn’t want to seem too eager. “Tonight, huh? Isn’t that a little soon?”

“Then why did you call at 11:30?”

Touché
. “I don’t want to impose. But if tonight is the night…”

“We’re here. How long until you can be here?” Jason asked again. No nonsense, just like Mitchell. God, would Sean turn into that? Knowing what he wanted and just…being forthright about it?

He considered his answer. “Half hour?”

Jason conferred with Mitchell on the other end, the sound muffled by Jason’s palm over the receiver. There was a rustling, and Jason returned with, “That will be fine. And Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“We won’t do anything that you don’t want, tonight.”

Sean’s cock strained at those words, and he gripped his shaft at the base, sliding his fingers up to the tip. “I’ll be right over.”

The half hour gave him time to shower and dress in a white tank and a broken-in pair of jeans. He pulled on his work boots and grabbed his keys off the counter. Every step he took on the short walk to the car sent a shock of nervousness straight to his belly. The drive was worse, but he finally pulled into the driveway of the big, white stone house. The outside lights were on, attracting mosquitoes, and he made a run for the door, which thankfully opened from inside as he swatted the insects away from his face.

“Whoa, whoa,” Mitchell laughed as Sean collided with him, his arms catching Sean around the waist. “Going somewhere in a hurry?”

“Don’t want to get eaten alive,” Sean rubbed the back of his neck, certain he could feel the little bloodsuckers crawling on him.

Jason stood just behind Mitchell, clad in a pair of green plaid pajama bottoms and nothing else. “You came to the wrong place. Come on in.”

He followed Mitchell and Jason across the entryway. To one side, he spotted a kitchen. To the other, what looked like an enormous home office. They walked beside the staircase, to a door that Jason opened.

“Is this like a sex dungeon or something?” Sean asked with nervous humor as they stepped into the brick walled room.

“More like a part-time rec room, part time sex dungeon,” Jason joked, flipping on the lights.

At one end, a covered pool table sat beneath a long stained glass light fixture. Posters from old movies hung on the walls, and a small wet bar was tucked in the corner. There was a huge flat-screen television on the wall and a big, soft-looking sofa that looked literally made out of pillows.

Jason dropped on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. “We wanted to talk to you, to make sure we all know each others’ comfort levels—that kind of thing.”

The drive over hadn’t helped Sean get himself under control any better, and now they wanted to sit and talk?

Mitchell stepped behind him, so close Sean wanted to push back. The older man’s hands fell on Sean’s shoulders and traced long sweeps down his arms. “You’re really impatient, aren’t you?”

“Be careful how you answer, it will be used against you,” Jason said with a chuckle. “This is how it works. You’ll be submissive to us, but most of all, to Mitchell.”

“On the food chain, you’re higher than me but under him?” Sean asked for clarity, which was becoming more and more difficult to get a real grip on. Mitchell’s hands traced a pattern over Sean’s back.

“Take this off,” Mitchell ordered, tugging at the shirt, and Sean pulled it over his head, tossing it aside.

“Exactly,” Jason said, his eyes fixed on the two men before him. His gaze followed Mitchell’s hands across Sean’s pecs, lazily circling his nipples. “Mitchell is in charge, but you also have to listen to me. Call it... instilling pack mentality. Now, if at any point, you become uncomfortable, you’ll be able to say a safe word that you pick, and the game will be over.”

“I have to pick it, huh?” Sean tried to pay attention to something other than Mitchell’s hot, shirtless chest pressed against his back as Mitchell stroked over the hard ridges of Sean’s abs. He cast his gaze around the room, and finally settled on, “Casablanca.”

“Casablanca?” Jason grinned and turned his head to look at the poster. “Okay, good choice. Any questions?”

Mitchell’s fingers popped the button on Sean’s jeans. “Take these off, as well.”

“Aren’t you going to ask what I do?” Sean slipped his jeans down, revealing the nakedness underneath. His cock was impressive, he’d been with enough guys to know it. Jason’s eyebrows lifted a little as he looked it over. Sean grinned. “You know, am I bottom, am I top, do I do bareback, swallow, that kind of thing?”

Jason looked as though he had to forcibly tear his gaze from Sean’s cock. Jason reached into his pajama pants and freed his own cock, stroking up and down as he spoke, almost causal in an absurd way. “Oh, we’re into safe sex. We’re both clean, and we’d like to keep it that way. As for top or bottom? You’ll just have to forget about any distinction there. You’ll do what we tell you to.”

“Oh, will I?” Sean smiled and took his own cock in his hand. “I’ll play along. When do we start?”

“We already have,” Mitchell said close to his ear. “Drop your hand.”

He laughed in dismay, but let go of his cock. “Fine.”

“I didn’t ask you to talk back,” Mitchell said, walking a slow circle around Sean. He’d already removed his jeans, and stood before Sean in a pair of snug black briefs. “Get on your knees.”

Sean suppressed his desire to quip back. He’d never really played submissive before, but he was a firm believer in trying anything at least once. If he was going to do this, he would do it right.

Jason still sat on the couch, stroking himself. A bead of fluid appeared at the tip of his cock, and he rubbed his palm over it, smoothing it down his shaft. Sean’s mouth watered, god help him. Actually watered.

“How does that feel, Jason?” Mitchell asked, still standing with the bulge in his shorts at Sean’s eye level.

Jason’s head dropped back and he groaned, but he didn’t quicken his leisurely pace. “It feels fucking amazing.”

 “Watch him, Sean,” Mitchell said, walking to a tall wicker basket against the wall. He pulled the lid off and removed something, Sean didn’t need the command. He was already focused on Jason jerking himself off not five feet away. He wanted to touch Jason. He wanted to touch himself. But he knew that probably wouldn’t be allowed.

Mitchell busied himself doing something that seemed completely unimportant behind the couch. Jason’s hand moved up and down, stretching the skin of his cock taut on the downward stroke, rolling his foreskin over the head as his fist moved up. He didn’t pump his hips, as Sean felt the urge to do, but the muscles of his abdomen contracted and released in quick flutters as he relentlessly stroked himself.

Every breath Sean took seemed connected to the sight of Jason’s fist working up and down his thick shaft. In a fiery arc through his body, from inhale to exhale, it seemed as though Jason’s hand manipulated Sean’s cock. If Sean touched himself, he would come; he might just from watching Jason.

Without realizing he’d done it, Sean’s hand closed around the base of his own shaft. Jason’s eyes widened as he watched, his breathing became heavier and he picked up his pace.

“That’s enough, you two,” Mitchell warned, and with a groan of protest, Jason moved his hand away from his cock. Sean couldn’t. Not if someone had told him his mother was going to walk through the door. Not if the house was on fire and they had to run for their lives. He felt the stirring of a long denied orgasm, knew it would take only a few more strokes and he’d have relief from the torturous desire that had gripped him for the past two days.

But it would be worth it, he knew that. Because he’d jerked off plenty, he’d imagined this scenario so many ways in the past forty-eight hours. So he couldn’t just get off and shake hands and say good night.

“Restrain him,” Mitchell said, almost absently. He still fiddled with something strappy and buckle-covered behind the couch.

Jason slid from the couch and pulled down his pajamas, kicking them aside. He went to the wicker basket and returned to Jason with some cuffs made of nylon rope and padded black cloth. He knelt behind Sean, between his legs. Jason’s big, hard cock nestled against the cleft of Sean’s ass, and he pushed back, grinding against it as Jason guided Sean’s hands behind his back and secured them with the soft cuffs. Even after Sean was restrained, Jason didn’t move away, hooking his arms under Sean’s chest and humping against him, his prick sliding up and down against Sean’s ass.

“That’s enough, Jason, go back to the couch,” Mitchell ordered.

“Fuck!” Jason went back to the couch and sat, looking miserable with his dick red and almost visibly throbbing against his stomach.

“Be a big boy, or you don’t get to play.” Mitchell lifted the mess of straps up and looped one of the metal rings over a thick hook that hung unobtrusively from the ceiling. “Now, Sean…have you ever been in a swing?”

Chapter Six

Jason’s mouth went dry at the sight of the swing. He looked at Sean, who looked like he would agree to anything to have an orgasm, and Jason almost laughed. Mitchell had promised that the new tiger would call them within two days, and he’d been right on the money. He’d also apparently been right when he’d said that during those intervening hours, Sean would be consumed with nothing but thoughts of what would happen if they did hook up.

It had been the same for Jason. Ever since Mitchell had suggested it, and ever since they’d gone to see Sean, Jason had constructed a thousand fantasies about what it would be like if he and his lover fucked the younger tiger. Mitchell had given it thought, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone straight to the swing. A cold shiver of anticipation went up Jason’s back at the sight of it, and a twinge of jealousy. Jason loved to be in the swing, totally at Mitchell’s mercy. It would be difficult to watch someone else get all that pleasure instead.