Bound and Determined (11 page)

if he blinked more than usual—had reminded him that he wasn't supposed to

be touching Sterling. Or had that ended when he'd melted down so

spectacularly?

“I haven't had the chance to ask you just what works for you when it

comes to BDSM,” Owen said. “It can vary so much for people… You've reacted

positively to a few suggestions, but I get the feeling that they weren't something

you'd considered before I brought them up. Have you read any porn, watched

any movies? Did anything get you hard just thinking about it or anything leave

you cold?” He grinned as Sterling gave him a helpless look. “Poor Sterling; am I

making you feel like we're back in class?”

“Kind of,” he admitted. “Well. It sort of started when I accidentally—and it

was
an accident, I swear!—Peeping Tommed—God, that's not a verb and

there's no way to make it one—on a couple of guys at a party.” Owen lifted an

eyebrow, and Sterling clarified, “A regular party, not a BDSM party. Last

weekend at the club was the first time I went to anything official. If that was

official. Anyway, one of them was telling the other one to get on his knees and

suck him off—the one on his knees was my friend Alex, who brought me to the

club—and, well, it definitely turned me on. It's been the masturbatory fantasy

of choice for weeks, actually.”

He tried to think of other things he'd seen. “Um. Being tied up. Spanking.

Maybe whipping too, although I don't think anything really violent would be up

my alley. I don't want scars.” Sterling offered Owen an apologetic smile. “Which

I know you said you wouldn't do anyway, but you asked, and I want to get an A

if even a tiny part of your brain is thinking about grading me. I don't know

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what else. Um, wax? Like, hot wax. And I watched some porn online and kind

of got off on watching someone being fucked with a dildo.” He blushed again

then, a little bit shocked at himself for having revealed so much.

“You didn't blush until just at the end there,” Owen said approvingly. “And

you gave me a lot to work with. Excellent. You'll find an A difficult to earn, but I

suppose I can give you a B for that.”

“Plus,” Sterling said firmly. “Definitely a B-plus.”

“Brat.” Owen flicked his fingernail against Sterling's left nipple, startling a

gasp out of him because, while it hadn't
hurt
exactly, it'd stung, and the two

things—being mildly cheeky and the equally mild chastisement that followed—

came together in his head with a click. He was fully erect now, and he couldn't

help sneaking a glance at Owen to see if he was too, under the jeans that

concealed a lot more than the fresh air that Sterling was wearing.

“You're supposed to be looking at my face,” Owen pointed out. “Yes, I'm

hard. I have been since you got here, but I enjoy a certain amount of

anticipation. It helps that I'm the one who decides when it ends, of course, but

you don't have that luxury. Whether or not you come is up to me, always.”

“Always?” Sterling blinked and looked at Owen's face like he was supposed

to be doing. “I can't come at all? Do you know how often I usually jerk off?” He

was whining, just about, but he couldn't help it.

“From tonight I'll know exactly, because you'll only do it with my

permission and usually in front of me.” Owen made a sound that qualified as a

snicker, but Sterling could—just—forgive that if it meant he got to come at

least now and then. “I'm sorry; did no sex for four months make you think I

meant no jerking off too? I'm going to ask a lot of you, but not the impossible.”

“I didn't think jerking off would count,” Sterling said. “I don't—wow. This

is going to be harder than I thought.” Then
he
snickered, having heard what

he'd just said.

Owen rolled his eyes but didn't comment on the pun. “You know, it keeps

hitting me just how much you don't know about all this. Not jerking off without

permission is fairly standard in a Dom/sub relationship.” His expression

softened, which made Sterling's throat tighten just a little. “You've

cannonballed into the deep end when you don't know how to swim, haven't

you?”

Sterling looked at him solemnly and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Don't let me

drown.”

That got him Owen's hand on his face again, tilting it up, and Owen's

mouth on his in a brief kiss that felt like a handshake. This close, the eyes

staring into his were all that he could see, their light gray flecked with darker

shades. “I think I can promise that.” One final pat to his face and Owen stood.

“I think we've done enough for one session. Get dressed now and I'll give you

my personal e-mail before you go. I'd like you to send me your schedule

tonight, and we'll arrange another meeting in a few days.”

Bound and Determined

43

Sterling climbed to his feet slowly, more than a little overwhelmed. As he

reached for his clothes and started to untangle them, he hoped they weren't,

between the two of them, making a terrible mistake, because he was definitely

in over his head.

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Jane Davitt & Alexa Snow

Chapter Four

Owen walked back into the living room after Sterling had left and stood

quite still for a moment as he tried to add up just how many mistakes he'd

made in the last two hours or so.

Or maybe even longer than that, starting with going to the club on the one

night that Sterling had chosen to walk on the wild side. Carol had wanted to

see a friend, and he'd overruled her, being petty, exercising control over her in

a way that karma had punished with a heavy hand.

What in God's name had possessed him to take on a new sub so soon

after freeing himself from Carol, as if he couldn't go a single day without

knowing that he had someone to be responsible for? Pity, sympathy, fellow

feeling? Or something less altruistic…

“Next time, I should just adopt a cat,” he muttered. God, this was so

stupid
. Sterling could ruin Owen's career with a few misplaced words to a

friend—and get himself kicked out in his final year too. He could see the lurid

headlines now, and the thought made him grimace. He'd kept his two worlds

from meeting for so long, not out of any sense of shame, but pragmatism. The

faculty knew that from time to time he dated men, and that wasn't a problem

for most of them; times, and laws, had changed. Getting involved with a

student, though…and introducing that student to what would be considered a

depraved, perverted lifestyle… Oh, that wouldn't be met with the same carefully

liberal tolerance.

So he should break this off before it went any further. Point Sterling in the

direction of another Dom, someone with less to lose, someone who'd be more

than adequate to guide a wide-eyed sub through his paces.

He tried to think of anyone he knew who'd be willing to take Sterling on

given how conflicted he was and came up with a short list of one: himself.

Sterling was just too fucking tempting to walk away from. Body and face

were both eye-catching. Sterling's athleticism had probably smoothed out the

gangly awkwardness of youth early; he fitted his body well, all long, powerful

legs and wide shoulders, smooth skin tanned by the summer sun, and that

blush… Oh, Owen loved that blush. He wanted to paint Sterling's skin with it,

bring the heat to the surface and rest his hand on that flushed, hot skin…

He'd been mildly attracted to the spoiled, arrogant brat he'd met in his

class without really translating that into anything sexual. Sterling had been a

student and young enough to be off Owen's radar. His partners were usually

Bound and Determined

45

about his age, and he hadn't dated anyone not into the scene for so long that it

was hard to remember sex that didn't come accompanied with at least a hint of

kink. The attraction to Sterling in class had been rooted in his undeniable

intelligence and the challenge he'd represented to Owen's authority. It had

been enjoyable to deal ruthlessly with his audacity, and yes, Owen had gotten

a kick out of it at times.

Sterling in the club, the lust pouring off him as he'd watched Owen

discipline Carol, had been hard to look away from, even harder to reject. Owen,

who'd never had any trouble controlling the most recalcitrant sub, didn't doubt

his ability to deal with this new, hesitant Sterling, or any return of the Sterling

he was more familiar with, but it was going to be one hell of a lot of work. The

last time he'd taken a sub from day one had been Michael, fifteen years ago.

Owen hadn't been all that experienced himself, but they'd had people to turn to

for help and they'd made it work—oh God, yes they had…

Too on edge to deal with anything as mundane as grading papers or

watching TV, Owen paced the house, picking up scattered items and restoring

them to where they belonged and making an attempt to water at least some of

the houseplants his mother had put in every room. Those that had survived his

haphazard care were still valiantly green, but he thought that they had a

dispirited droop to them.

He needed someone to talk to about this before it got out of hand, and

really, there was only one person he'd ever turned to when he had doubts.

Michael might have been gone for eight years—God, no, it was more like nine—

and they'd both moved on, the bright dazzle of love softening to a friendship

that was even stronger, but that didn't matter.

Any more than it mattered that it'd been six months since they'd last

spoken and the call had ended with Michael telling him that he was a fucking

idiot and hanging up.

Just after ten, so it'd be around lunchtime in Sydney. That would work.

He settled himself on the couch with a glass of whiskey and the phone and

pressed the first number on his speed dial.

Michael answered just after the third ring, his voice so familiar that Owen

closed his eyes for a few seconds, drinking it in and finding it more refreshing

and relaxing than the whiskey. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Owen said. “It's me.”

That was more than enough to tell Michael what Owen needed him to

know—the first word would have done it. Still, there was a pause while Michael

probably considered hanging up on him again, even though they both knew he

wouldn't. “Hi, you,” Michael said finally. “Now, before you say anything else,

just listen, okay? I forgive you for that last fight, but I
don't
forgive you for

going so long without calling. You know I can talk to you as much as you want,

but you have to be the one to call me—there's no way I'd risk breaking any of

Daren's rules. Not even for you.” It was so easy to picture the smile on

Michael's face. “So what's wrong?”

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Jane Davitt & Alexa Snow

“Daren would love you to break a rule now and then,” Owen said,

reverting to an old joke between them to give himself time to handle the sheer

relief of being in contact with Michael again. Michael was right to be pissed off

about him taking this long to call, even missing Michael's birthday because

he'd still been smarting over the ruthless assessment of his lack of direction.

“You're spoiling his fun.”

“Oh, trust me, he gets plenty of fun.” It sounded like Michael was running

water—doing dishes, maybe? When his relationship with Daren had gone from

playful to serious, he'd insisted on something full-time—the same thing he'd

wanted from Owen but which Owen hadn't been able to give him. Now Michael

stayed home, took care of his and Daren's house, and was ridiculously happy

by his own report. “If you're not answering my question, then something's

really wrong. What happened?”

“Put it this way—if this blows up in my face, Australia might be getting a

new immigrant.” Owen sighed. “I might have gotten involved with a student.

Not in my class, and he's in his senior year and almost twenty-one, but still…”

Michael made a sound like a suppressed whoop. “Well, excuse me for

being excited for you,” he said before Owen could even object to his obvious

delight. “Thank
God
you've gotten involved with
someone
. I was starting to

think it was going to be one casual fling after another for you, and you know

you deserve so much more than that. Is he cute?”

“He's pushy, arrogant, and when I taught him a few years back, he drove

me out of my mind,” Owen said, “but I'll admit that outside the classroom and

on his knees, he's appealing. Cute, no. Do we have a bad connection? Did you