Strict Consequences (3 page)

It was right there. Right at the tip of his tongue. All he had to do was say it and everything would stop. He sucked in a breath, rolling the safeword around in his mind.

Dickinson.

Jarvis continued holding his hands, kept his gaze trained on him, but didn't push. Garson knew that once he uttered the word, Jarvis would drive him back to the club then that would be it for the night. He trusted Jarvis to honor it and not to react negatively.

Huh. How about that. I
do
trust him.

“Sir… I mean, Jarvis. If I used my safeword right now, would you still scene with me again on another night like we usually do?”

A moment of hurt passed over Jarvis' features, but he quickly reverted to an implacable expression. “Of course, Garson. I would
never
punish you or refuse to play again because you used your safeword. Any Dom who did that isn't one who deserves you.”

Garson's eyes widened. Jarvis' suggestion that Garson might be the prize—as opposed to Jarvis, the hot and sexy Dom—surprised him. Even more startling was how the statement made his heart flutter. He glanced up at Jarvis again. Despite the Dom's efforts to maintain a neutral expression, Garson could detect worry, tension. The whole thing added to his discomfort. He didn't want to delude himself into thinking that Jarvis wished for anything more beyond their weekly scenes together.

And what difference does it make? It's not as if I want anything more either.
He pushed aside the lie.
This is exactly why all this personal stuff is so annoying.
His confusion irked him.

“Garson?”

He gave himself a mental shake, clearing his throat. “Yes?”

“Are you ready to go to my dungeon now?”

Garson let out a too obvious sigh of relief. “Yes, Sir. Please. That would be wonderful.”

Chapter Three

They drove in silence, but Jarvis thought it was a good thing. He didn't want to overwhelm Garson to the point where he safeworded. Gripping the wheel, he worked hard to hold back a smile. It was there. He could feel it. Garson was attracted to him on at least some level. He didn't have the slightest clue as to why Garson had so many strict limits regarding touch and other personal interaction, but there had been clear indicators during dinner that Garson craved a close connection with someone.

With me.

The chemistry was there, the trick would be to encourage it to unfold, allow it to envelop them both.

“So, uh, you're my Sir again?”

Jarvis glanced sideways at Garson. “Yes, boy, I am.”

He noted the visible exhale as if all the tension had left Garson's body. The few times during dinner that Garson had opened up, had relaxed and conversed—laughed—Jarvis believed that was when he'd seen the real man behind the guarded sub. He'd known that man was there almost from the moment he'd met Garson, but he'd bided his time until he'd thought Garson was ready to be prodded.

The previous few times they'd played, it'd been clear that the one-hour-per-week session wasn't nearly enough for Garson. He suspected that it'd been that way for a long time, but it'd finally reached the point where Garson had become more obvious in his displeasure. Each time it was declared that their session had reached the end, the announcement had been met with scowls, grunts of frustration and loud sighs. Jarvis wasn't even sure if Garson had noticed he was doing it. Jarvis noticed. He was aware of every small nuance relating to Garson for the precious moments they had together.

After contemplating how to best take the next step with Garson without dishonoring his limits, he'd conceived of his current plan. Garson might not realize that he needed so much more from a Dom than he was getting, but Jarvis did. It was time to show Garson that there was a whole world of joy and pleasure that could be his if only Garson would allow it.

“Here we are.”

Jarvis pulled into the long driveway of his ranch-style home in the La Canada hills. Garson appeared curious as he strained his neck to check out the surroundings. Jarvis' strategically placed outdoor colored lights shone on the lush landscaping of Japanese boxwood hedges alongside star jasmine. Interspersed with the shrubbery were orange and yellow marigolds and decorative white rocks. The spotlights trained on the white board-and-batten house brightened the side of the large structure. The black shutters made a stark contrast to the rest of the home during the day and an excellent backdrop to the spotlights at night.

“You have a very nice home, Sir. Is this one of your designs?”

“Yes it is. Thank you.” Garson's statement struck him as being more than a polite remark. “I hope you feel that way about the playroom design as well.”

Garson turned to him and Jarvis was startled to see a slight smile on his lips. “I have a feeling I will. Since you're the head of your own architectural firm, I imagine you made sure to have the best of the best.”

Jarvis stared into Garson's eyes. “I always do. In everything.”

The expression Garson radiated back at him was priceless. His eyes had widened considerably, and if it hadn't been for how dim the lighting was, Jarvis was certain he'd be able to see a healthy blush in reaction to the implied compliment.

“Oh, I…” Garson abruptly faced forward. “The landscaping is marvelous too.”

Jarvis leaned over the console of his luxury SUV, inches from Garson. “I wasn't referring to the landscaping.”

He detected Garson's accelerated breathing, the faintest tinge of his arousal. “I think… I seem to be getting a bit chilly. Would you mind if we went inside, Sir?”

Jarvis frowned. His initial reaction had been that Garson was scrambling for an excuse to escape the confines of the vehicle and their close proximity, but his concern for Garson's wellbeing overrode that.

“Are you feeling well enough to continue? If you're getting ill, I'd rather we save this for another night. I'll still honor my end of the bargain.”

Garson shook his head emphatically. “No! I'm fine, really.” Garson cleared his throat, keeping his eyes averted. “We can continue, Sir.”

Jarvis considered Garson. He didn't detect him shaking, no teeth chattering. He went back to his original assessment that Garson had been anxious to get them out of the car after Jarvis' remark. Under normal circumstances, he would've called attention to Garson's lie, but he surmised he'd only push Garson to safeword, and beyond his own selfish interests, he knew that Garson needed the release a good scene would offer him.

“Then let's get you inside, boy. Be sure to tell me if the temperature in the playroom is comfortable for you.”

Garson ducked his head, nodding slightly. “Thank you for understanding, Sir.”

Jarvis wondered if Garson knew he'd been caught. He patted Garson's shoulder, thankful that he hadn't reacted negatively that time.

“You're very welcome. Are you ready?”

Garson nodded again. “Yes, Sir. I'm ready.”

****

Garson wasn't ready. He couldn't stop shaking and it had nothing to do with the temperature. Hell, the room wasn't the slightest bit cold. He was pretty sure Jarvis had figured out that he'd made the whole thing up about the temperature to hustle them out of the car. A flash of Jarvis kissing him, and even worse, a flash of him kissing Jarvis back, had forced the lame attempt at a lie to burst out of him.

He'd been kneeling naked on the soft mat with his hands folded behind his head for at least five minutes. His clothes were neatly folded, stacked on a chair by the door, and his glasses secured in their case. He was attuned to the slightest of sounds in Jarvis' warm and inviting home. It'd been somewhat of a surprise to him. He'd assumed it would be more stark and modern. The thought brought another thing to mind. Maybe all of his assumptions about Jarvis had been wrong. Maybe he'd been unfairly comparing him to one of the stereotypes out there of a cold, unfeeling Dom who enjoyed humiliating and breaking subs then leaving them to wallow in their despair.

Jesus. Dramatic much?

He adjusted his body so that the pressure on his knees hit in a different spot, but he still believed his posture was excellent. The thoughts swirling in his mind were crazy-making. Just because Alan had led him on, let Garson believe that he loved him then mocked the shit out of him before dumping him for some pretty twink, didn't mean that all Doms were like that.

Even if that's how I've viewed them all along.

But it'd been impossible for him to get past Alan's hateful words. At least, that's how it'd seemed at the time and he'd never let go of that belief. Alan had declared that Garson was goofy-looking, needy, a pathetic lay, not hot enough for him to show off at the club. Alan had laughed at him, no,
guffawed
at him when Garson had said that he loved him, would serve him unconditionally. His ex-Dom had responded by saying that Garson was too sentimental and to get over it. Those had been his last words before he'd marched out of Garson's life.

Initially, it'd seemed to be an abrupt move, had come out of nowhere. The following week when Garson had reluctantly dragged himself back to the club, his needs too strong to ignore, it'd all made sense. The blond, slender boy Alan had kneeling at his side had been stunning. Garson could see why Alan had left him for the pretty sub.

Love is an illusion.

His mother had told him that so many times growing up, but he'd ached to prove her wrong. He didn't want to think about it too much, but he'd wondered off and on whether he'd convinced himself he was in love with Alan because the Dom had been the one to snag his virginity. Water filled his eyes, the burn aggravating. He sucked in air, tipping his head back to contain them. After swallowing them back down, he sniffed then regained his positioning.

Thank God I found Club Consequence.

He forced himself to avoid the extra step of adding in his mind that he was grateful to have found Jarvis as well. Back at the old club, Garson had always kept to himself, but there'd been one very sweet and friendly sub who'd recommended Club Consequence to him. There wasn't the slightest chance Garson would've ever again set foot in the place where he'd met Alan.

And now here I am. My first time in a Dom's personal playroom in over four years. A Dom I could embarrass myself in front of by falling for him if I'm not careful.

The last thing he wanted was to have to find another reputable club. There weren't any other clubs in Pasadena at all. It wasn't as if the city were a hotbed of BDSM gatherings in general, let alone specifically gay ones. Opening up to Jarvis would be a mistake.

Even if I'm thinking I might want to after all.

The door behind him snicked open and Garson's shaft responded, hardening again. He could argue in his mind all he wanted that Jarvis didn't affect him, but his dick had other ideas.

“Beautiful display, boy. I'm always pleased with it.” The heat from Jarvis' palm soothed him as it rested on his head. “Almost as much as I'm thrilled by the sight of your sexy body with that pretty cock hard and full for me.”

Oh God.

Garson fought harder than he could remember doing in a long while to keep his expression calm. His erection picked up a tiny heartbeat, throbbing with beads of pre-cum forming at his slit. Jarvis stroked his hair and the seemingly small gesture had him on the edge of coming apart.

Whips, flogger, clamps. Anything.

Garson needed to get his mind off his dick and focused on a demanding dose of pain. Jarvis' demeanor was startling. Not that he hadn't detected a measure of goodness and concern from the severe Dom before, but there was a fondness emanating from Jarvis that he hadn't been prepared for.

Dickinson. Just say it. He already promised he wouldn't turn you away. Friday is only two days from now. We'd go right back to our regular routine as if none of this'd ever happened. Back to my usual hard limits. I trust him to honor his word.
He bit his lip almost to the point of drawing blood.
I
do
trust him. Shit.

“Rise for me, boy.”

Garson managed to stand gracefully without wobbling, but then the sight of Jarvis in chaps with a silver-studded jock almost caused him to stumble. Jarvis wore nothing across his muscled chest, his round dusky nipples peaked with arousal, his entire torso covered in curled blond fur. Grace for Garson wasn't typically a problem. But the entire night had been anything but typical.

“Stand here in the middle of the mat, but lower your arms then let them rest at your sides.”

Jarvis rubbed Garson's shoulders and biceps gently, and Garson almost let out a satisfied groan. Their session was certainly filled with a lot more touch than ever before.
Could it've been like this all along?

“Keep your gaze on the floor.” Jarvis patted his ass. “Stay as you are.”

He'd been too stunned by the brief, but surprisingly welcome, feel of Jarvis' hand on his butt to acknowledge his instructions. Instead, he focused on obeying while also breathing evenly and slowly. He'd have a meltdown otherwise.

Rustling and a small jangling sounded behind him.
Suspension?
His heart rate accelerated. There was only one room in the club outfitted for any suspension and it was very basic as well as difficult to book. He'd only ever enjoyed suspension a few times, but it'd been years before. He hoped Jarvis planned to use it with him. The more restrained and at the mercy of a Dom he was in a scene, the more satisfying it was for him.

The jangling noises continued, some from higher above his head, and Garson was sure that Jarvis was readying something that
did
involve suspension. His steeled length twitched, a tiny string of stickiness trailing off the end. He was mortified. Being erect in a scene was pretty standard, and he'd become aroused enough—with Jarvis alone—that he'd produced some pre-cum before. But not so copious. He'd always controlled his urges much better.

A sound came out of him like a small growl.
Maybe I don't want to control them right now. So I'm turned on. Isn't that at least part of the point?
His sessions had always ended up in fairly satisfying orgasms once he'd gone home.
Once I was alone.
His erection flagged.

“Dripping then softening? You also sounded as though you were in pain there for a second, and not the kind I know you desire. Talk to me, boy.”

Again with the talking.

He sucked in a deep breath. He couldn't simply ignore a question from his Dom.
Unless of course… No. I don't need it. Don't need to safeword.
“We've never touched like this before. I'm not sure how I feel about it.”

Jarvis moved around his body until he stood in front of him. “Eyes up.”

Garson did as he was told.

“Are my touches unwelcome? Discomforting? Repulsive?”

“God,
no
!”

He froze, startled by the force behind his words. Jarvis appeared somewhat surprised as well, but he merely raised one eyebrow.

“It's all right, boy. Anything you say is fine. There's no wrong here between us.”

Tears formed again.
Too much.
His breathing became more erratic. Shallow.

Jarvis inched closer then reached around him, laying his hand softly on Garson's upper back. He maintained eye contact, gazing at him intensely as if waiting to see if Garson would safeword. The caresses started off slowly, Jarvis stroking his back in a soothing way. Garson pressed his lips together and nodded. He couldn't admit out loud that he liked it, that he wanted Jarvis to continue.