Bouncer’s Folly (9 page)

“You cause enough.”

“But I must have some redeeming qualities.” He rubbed his knee up and down the length of Ramsey’s hard cock, eliciting a deep growl before Ramsey caught him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall.

“Like I said, trouble, with a capital T.” He leaned back in and caught Zara’s mouth with his, nibbling his lower lip before thrusting in his tongue.

Ramsey cupped his head, pulling him close and taking Zara to dizzying heights of lust with his mouth.

His nipples tightened against the Boss shirt, so painfully hard until Zara thought they would burst through the expensive material. He pushed himself into Ramsey’s arms, exchanging feral moans and sampling the enticing masculine cocktail of Ramsey’s natural musky aroma beneath the subtle spicy scent of his soap and aftershave.

Ramsey pulled back again, eyes closed and gasping, looked like he was trying to rein in his passions and not doing a very good job of it if the litany of curses he released under his breath was any indication. “We can’t do this here.”

“You can do anything you want. You’re head of security.”

“And your daddy.” He bent his head to nip Zara’s tender bottom lip.

“There’s that too.”

This time when Ramsey groaned it was out of frustration.

60

Gracie C. McKeever

“You can’t control every situation, baby,” Zara whispered, running a hand from Ramsey’s waist up to his shoulder before resting it there. He stood on his toes to caress Ramsey’s mouth with his. “But you can control me. Any way you want.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What’ll you do to me if I do? Spank me?”

“Worse.”

Zara arched a brow, cock throbbing in his pants, ready to burst from anticipation.

“I’m going to make you wait.”

“No.”

Ramsey reached down to cup Zara’s balls. “Yes.”

“Please…”

“Pretty please.”

“Anything.”

“Did I ever tell you I like to hear you beg?”

“Bastard.”

Ramsey chuckled, unzipped Zara’s pants and slipped a hand inside.

Zara gasped at the feel of his large, warm fingers curving around his shaft, squeezing before moving his thumb up to the slit to rub the pre-cum around the flushed head of Zara’s penis. “Oh God.”

“Stay still, baby. You’re making me lose my concentration.”

He was making
him
lose his concentration? Zara was about to explode, never mind keeping his concentration!

He tried not to writhe beneath Ramsey’s touch, but wasn’t succeeding very well until Ramsey released him, stepped back and slid his belt from his pants. The sound of the leather sliding through those loops sent Zara’s temperature into orbit and a shiver of excitement spiraling down from his chest to his groin until his painfully hard cock was the beginning and end of his universe.

Zara smiled and turned his back to Ramsey, wiggling his hips and offering up his ass for Ramsey’s consideration.

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy.”

Before Zara could blink, Ramsey grabbed his arms, locked them behind his back, looped the belt around his wrists and cinched it tight enough to restrict him but not enough to hurt him.

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61

Zara tried his bounds, surprised he couldn’t get loose, heart pounding with the idea of being at Ramsey’s sexual mercy. “I think you might have been a cowboy in a previous life the way you handle that belt.”

“Cowboys aren’t the only ones who like to rope their prey.” Ramsey ran his tongue up the side of Zara’s neck before nipping his earlobe.

“Please…” Zara shuddered beneath Ramsey like a strung-out junky starving and desperate for a fix. Good thing his preferred fix wasn’t illegal, because for what Zara wanted Ramsey to do to him, the authorities could probably put them both
under
the jail.

Ramsey bent his head, lightly sinking his teeth into the flesh between Zara’s neck and shoulder as he reached around his body with one hand to pull his penis out of his pants. He took him in a firm grip before the night air could cool him off, once again thumbing the jewel of pre-ejaculate that had gathered in Zara’s slit.

“Please,
Daddy.”

Ramsey stroked him, slow and firm before grasping then pumping his shaft.

Zara closed his eyes and arched his neck, accepting the teasing nibbles and kisses Ramsey planted there. He thrust his hips, balls tightening as he picked up speed until Ramsey squeezed him around the base of his cock with his index finger and thumb tight enough to stop him from coming. He rested his forehead against the brick wall in front of him, caught his breath while Ramsey leaned close and whispered, “More?”

He nodded his head and whimpered, too weak to utter anything more comprehensible.

Ramsey pushed close, rubbing himself against Zara’s ass in synch with his strokes. His rhythm and touch were so intense, Zara didn’t know whether he was coming or going now, lost in the moment, lost in the feel of Ramsey moving against him, jerking him off.

He bit off the scream rising in his throat right before his cum spurted against the wall in front of him.

Ramsey continued to grind his hips against Zara, squeezing and pumping his dick until Zara knew there was nothing left to come out. He was spent, bone dry and too satiated to move.

“I have to get back to work.”

“I know.” Zara turned and leaned his head back against the wall.

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Gracie C. McKeever

Ramsey slowly reached down and behind Zara to unlatch his belt and release Zara’s wrists before replacing the belt in his pants. “I want you to go home.”

Zara looked at him, tried to muster up the will to be angry, but with the aftereffects of his recent orgasm still coursing through his body, he found that particular feat difficult. “Make me,” he managed instead.

“You like trying my patience.”

No, what he liked was trying to make Ramsey lose control. What he had done was lose his own while Ramsey stood before him seemingly unaffected by their tryst. Talk about self-control and restraint. “I don’t want to go home alone.”

“Why? Did someone threaten you?”

“No.” Not in so many words. It was nothing he could put his finger on, nothing he could describe, just a feeling. Should he tell Ramsey that a couple of guys he’d danced with creeped him out? Or maybe he was just being paranoid because he didn’t really know any of them except Jazmon and Trevor’s candyman was still technically a stranger, though Zara was starting to like him despite his profession.

“You’re not thinking of using are you? Because if you are I’ll take the rest of the night off and come home with you.”

“You will?”

“All you have to do is ask.”

Zara swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “I’m asking.”

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63

He watched the bouncer and Trevor leave the alley hand-in-hand,
seething as they caught a cab at the curb.

His hand was still sticky with his own cum and this angered him. He
was not normally a voyeur, nor was he into exhibitionism but that pair with
their impromptu bondage game had reduced him to a mere spectator in a
sport where he was usually the guide and master.

The bouncer would have to be dealt with at some point. He was getting
too close to
his
property. He had spent almost a year working on Trevor,
trying to soften him up for ultimate domination and by some fluke this Logan
comes in on his white horse to save the day and snatch
his
rightful reward
right from under him.

He
was supposed to be the hero! He still had a chance, however,
because it appeared Trevor didn’t remember what had transpired between
them or what had happened to him in the restroom last night.

He had subtly questioned the boi during their brief dance, discovering
that not only didn’t Trevor remember he hadn’t OD’d by his own hand, he
didn’t recognize his perpetrator.

How much of a sign did he need to know that divine intervention was at
work and he and Trevor were meant to be together? And he knew Trevor
wasn’t faking it now, nor setting a trap. There had been too vacant a look in
his eyes when he took him out on the floor to dance, too vacant a look to be
feigned.

Knowing that he had put that vacant look in the young man’s usually
keen blue eyes caused him very little guilt. He was too busy being relieved
that he would not have to dispose of Trevor prematurely to protect their
little secret. He had some time, perhaps not much, before Trevor’s memory
returned and the little detail of his tempted murder rushed back to him with
glaring clarity.

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Gracie C. McKeever

He could not allow that to happen, not before he got what he wanted,
and this was ultimately Trevor, in all the ways he’d fantasized about, bound,
blindfolded, perhaps gagged—he wasn’t yet sure how he wanted to use that
pretty little mouth—and at his total mercy for as long as he wanted him.

At my mercy.

* * * *

First he had engaged in discipline, spanking and role playing, now bondage and public sex. Damn, with Trevor he acted like Captain Kirk, boldly going where he had never gone before. Soon he would sound like a broken record when he claimed he had never tried this or that before because with Trevor, he knew he
would
try this or that.

Ramsey grinned when he looked down at the man cuddled next to him in the large four-poster bed, couldn’t help it. The idea that the boi with the innocent, peaceful look and the long lashes delicately brushing the tops of his cheeks could drive him to such recklessness still astounded him. And gave him such a sense of fulfillment he wondered how he had gotten along all this time without Trevor in his life.

He had left his job to come home with Trevor! Never mind that Quincy seemed all too pleased when Ramsey had asked for the rest of the night off to tend to a personal matter. Ramsey hadn’t missed a day of work since starting with
Zara’s
, had rarely missed any time at any of his other jobs, especially after his mother had gotten her act together and hadn’t needed him to run home for one crisis or another like when he was younger.

Thing was, Ramsey didn’t consider Trevor a crisis or a burden. He wanted to be with him, found himself looking for reasons
to
come to his apartment or drag Trevor to his.

Trevor yawned and languidly stretched before wrapping his arms around Ramsey’s middle and glancing up at his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“We never did make it out on that date.”

“We didn’t?”

“Screwing each other’s brains out isn’t a date.”

“Maybe not but it’s fun.”

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65

Ramsey chuckled and wrapped both arms around Trevor to hold him close. “Life isn’t just about having fun you know.”

“I know. But you’re entirely too serious for such a young man.”

“I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“What? The serious part or that you act too old for your age.”

“Both.” His brother used to call him old man even when Ramsey was a teenager. He guessed it came with the territory of being the man of the house and having to raise both a younger sibling and a parent when you were barely a teen yourself. “How old do you think I am?”

“Vain aren’t we?”

“Not at all and I’m twenty-nine.”

“Not that old.”

“But not as young as you.”

“I’m not that young.”

No, Ramsey guessed he wasn’t after some of the things he had seen and done. But he was still a vulnerable kid to Ramsey, someone to be protected and taken care of and loved.

Damn, he’d gone and done it now, thought the infamous L-word.

Trevor released him to prop himself up on one elbow as he stared at Ramsey. He reached out to run his fingers over Ramsey’s forehead. “You worry too much.”

“I worry about you.”

“I don’t want you to though.”

“Keep dreaming.”

Trevor sat up, folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. “I’m not a helpless damsel in distress, despite the impression I might have given you earlier.”

“I didn’t say you were. And that’s not the impression I got.”

Trevor arched a brow. “No?”

“C’mere.” Ramsey pulled him back into his arms. “The impression I got was of a guy who’d been through a serious, recent trauma and was feeling a little shaky being at the scene of that trauma.”

“Perceptive.”

“So why did you come to the club?”

“You need to ask?” Trevor wiggled his eyebrows and Ramsey laughed.

“I’m serious.”

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Gracie C. McKeever

“And so am I. I like being around you. You make me feel…safe.”

Ramsey didn’t know why he was disappointed, didn’t know why he had been expecting Trevor to say something else. “You’re just saying that because I saved your life.”

“Not just because of that.”

Ramsey swallowed, waited several beats wondering if he should fill in the silence and with what. He knew what he wanted to say, but thought it might be too much, too fast.

Coward.

Yeah, he was that. But at least he was man enough to admit it, if only to himself.

Trevor put a hand on Ramsey’s chest, smoothing the soft smattering of hair before leaving his palm still over his left pec.

Ramsey’s muscles twitched, heart stuttering at the contact and the serious look Trevor gave him. “What’s the matter?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Ramsey’s head filled with all sorts of denials and responses—it’s too soon, we’re not right for each other and this can never work—at the very top of his Things To Say When A Totally Inappropriate Guy Says I Love You list.

But he didn’t get a chance to use any of them when the phone rang.

* * * *

Zara cursed under his breath as he reached for the handset.