Chapter 10

Holding the afghan closed against his chest, Reed returned to the kitchen, considered the stools by the island, and decided he’d be better off standing. He tried to ignore the heat settling on the back of his neck and not think too hard about what Curtis had been about to say. The last thing he wanted to have with the man was ‘The Talk’.

Noah covering the topic years ago had been awkward enough. Then came the refresher after Reed decided a reasonable response to being denied access to The Asylum was to become a stripper. Most uncomfortable conversation ever since his ass had been smarting from Curtis’s big hand and his ego from being dragged off stage. His guardian made him a silent agreement never to discuss the events of that night again.

Reed and Curtis didn’t have that agreement though. Holding the tip of his tongue between his teeth, his gaze slid over the sleek, sculpted expanse of Curtis’s bare back, thick muscles flowing under smooth skin. The expanse of his broad shoulders, which he’d only ever felt close to him when they were in the ring. And his hands…

Damn, what would’ve happened last night if Lawson had let Curtis punish Reed? Not that he’d wanted him to, but would it be different from the first time? Would he notice that Reed wasn’t that eighteen-year-old punk, cursing him out and trying to bite him wherever he could reach until he’d just broken down, swearing through sobs that he’d never get up on that stage again?

“Hey, Curtis?” Reed rested his elbows on the edge of the island to take some weight off his sore legs. “When you sent me up to the dungeon…” Curtis’s shoulders stiffened. Fuck, maybe this was a bad idea. The man seemed to be in a good mood. Why spoil it? “Never mind.”

Turning, spatula in his hand, Curtis glanced to Reed’s water glass, reached over and set it in front of Reed. “When I sent you up to the dungeon, someone should have taken a horse whip to me. Take your pills, bo—” Brown eyes snapped to Reed’s face. “Reed.”

Yeah, don’t call me ‘boy’, you might have to actually acknowledge me as a sub. The horror. Shoulders slumped, Reed nodded. He slipped the pills between his lips, followed by a sip of water. Stared down at the glass between his hands.

Well that answered that question.

Sliding a plate of pancakes and the syrup in front of Reed, Curtis stilled. “Reed?”

Reed lifted his gaze, schooling his features. “Yeah?”

“You do get all of the reasons that was a dick move on my part?” Curtis searched his face. “Not just taking you out of that fight with Kovit, right?”

He really didn’t, other than the punishment being bullshit. It wouldn’t have been if he’d actually belonged to Curtis, but that would never happen. He shrugged and used his fork to cut a big piece of pancake, stuffing it in his mouth instead of answering.

Curtis sighed and pulled up a stool. Sat and ran a palm over his face. “Do me a favor? Just… Play with people who are good to you? If something feels less than amazing, even just a little bit like you’re not being treated with the care you deserve, call in a DM or safeword out? If not for yourself, then for…” His gaze skipped away. “Me.”

Lips parted, Reed inhaled roughly. He shot Curtis a sideways look. “It was a good scene. Hardcore, but...I needed that. Just...just not to have control. Not to have to beg for…” He pressed his eyes shut. “But yeah, I get it. I won’t do anything to freak you or Lawson out. No need for you to have to get involved. You being forced to spank me once was enough.”

Curtis’s expression darkened, flattening the peaks of his upper lip. He leaned in, to brush his thumb over Reed’s lower lip and examined the sticky residue. Brought it to his mouth and sucked it from his skin. Pushing away from the breakfast bar he went to flip his pancake onto his plate and returned. Tapped two fingers under Reed’s chin to close his mouth. “Eat up.”

Eat. Yeah. He should eat. Then his brain might start working again. He cut another big piece and focused on finishing his breakfast.

“So…” Considering his fork, Curtis chewed and swallowed. “You like the hardcore stuff, or you think it’s the only way to give up control?”

Blinking at the other man, Reed almost choked on the piece of pancake in his mouth. He ducked his head as his cheeks flamed. “Dude, me and you...we don’t talk about this stuff.”

Curtis frowned, head canted, seeming to rifle through his brain for some piece of information, then nodded when he found it. “No, I guess we haven’t. But if you want to, I don’t recall being told I’d be gelded for crossing that particular line.”

“I…” Reed set the tines of his fork against his lips, touching his tongue to it as he stared at the wall over Curtis’s shoulder. “I like letting the Dom decide. Once he does, the rest is easy. Never lasts long enough though.”

“Sounds like the headspace you’re after has very little to do with pain and everything to do with how long you’ve negotiated to give that control over.” Curtis met his stare, unflinching, pushed back his plate and leaned in on his forearm. “It’s not as easy as you’d think to maintain, but when done right it can be pretty amazing.”

Reed nodded slowly. “In case you missed it, I’m more trouble than any Dom wants to take on. But it’s better that way.” He shrugged, picked up his plate and Curtis’s, and brought them both to the sink. “I get to enjoy a bit of everything. And no one’s gotta deal with me being...too much.”

“Is that what’s rolling around in that pretty head of yours? That you’re either not enough or you’re too much?” Curtis had moved behind him. Close behind him. “From where I stand, you’re the Goldilocks of submissives, Reed, and anyone who makes you feel any less isn’t half the Dom you think they are.”

Curving his hands over the edge of the sink, Reed shook his head. He should not be having this conversation. Not with Curtis, of all people. He was still too messed up from the scene which had left him wide open and vulnerable. He’d gotten away from Kovit and Lawson without letting his issues bleed out all over them.

He had to find a way to do the same with Curtis.

His throat tightened as he let out a soft laugh. “I’m the perfect sub. For one night. That’s how I like it. You gotta stop seeing me as some poor...kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’m a big boy, Curtis.”

Curtis’s hand encircled Reed’s upper arm, tugging him around. “You think that’s what I’m thinking about right now? That you’re a kid? If so, I need to go to jail.”

“For what? You’ve been the perfect ‘Daddy’.” Reed really needed to shut up, but he’d already stepped over the clear line Curtis had drawn long ago. He couldn’t seem to retreat back to the place he’d been assigned that night he’d been dragged home. Covered in glitter, still feeling the rush from the eyes of the crowd on him as he’d danced. The heat that spilled through him when Curtis gave him that look brought him even higher. As though Reed had given those strangers what belonged to him. Reed’s jaw tensed. “If you’re talking about that one time that shall-not-be-discussed, it was a punishment. One Noah should’ve probably given me so you didn’t have it hanging on your conscience.”

Curtis’s eyes had closed partway through Reed’s speech, but they opened now. “I assure you, the pleasure was all mine, brat. And if you had a lick of sense, you’d stop baiting me to do it again now—because I’m certain you’d like to be able to sit in the next decade.” He lowered his lips to Reed’s ear. “I suggest you rethink some things about me, and about you. Because the next time you come to me wanting to be taken in hand, I will gladly oblige.”

Pushing away from the counter, he stepped back, giving Reed room to breathe.

Damn it, why did Curtis have to go and say...all of that today? Today, when Reed had no idea what to do with the implication of his words. Eyes burning, he hugged himself. The very thing he’d wanted more than anything, right there, while the marks from another man still covered him.

“Shit.” Curtis swore softly, reached for him and pulled him in. Cheek resting on Reed’s head, he sighed. “I don’t know how it is I keep fucking up with you but trust me when I say that I don’t want to hurt you.” He laughed, a rough sound. “Not like that. I miss you and me. So, yeah. You name what you want—what you need—and I’ll try to be that for you. But…” Leaning back, he brushed Reed’s forehead with his lips. “Try to remember, I’m fighting with one hand tied behind my back.”

He really didn’t get it. But maybe that was Reed’s fault too.

Tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, he tipped his head back. Despite the pain, having Curtis’s arms around him felt good. Like all the broken pieces were being held together by the other man’s strength, so he didn’t have to cling to them alone.

His lips curved slightly. “You might wanna figure out how to untie it then, ‘cause I’m not gonna ask.” He met Curtis’s eyes. “You’ll know.”

Curtis’s gaze dipped, his attention fixating on Reed’s mouth. Unwrapping his arms from Reed’s body, he brought one hand to the lip of the counter and the other to cup Reed’s face. Lowered his mouth with excruciating care and whispered, “I’m going to hell” against Reed’s lips.

Reed grinned, flicking his tongue over Curtis’s bottom lip. “Not quite yet.”