Chapter 7

Avery laughed, high on the pain. High on the sound of Rhodey’s voice and the feel of his hands against his naked hip. It didn’t bother him in the least that the man now knew everything he’d pierced. “Good to know.”

Doc cleaned out the hole in his thigh, getting Rhodey’s black duvet shiny with dampness. ‘Intense’ seemed to be the medic’s only gear lately. Ever since Keiran and Wren had almost fallen prey to Kovit’s whacked-out desperate scheme.

Fucking moron.

He’d made everything so much harder on everyone. Do a job clean and right. Don’t make everyone in a ten-mile radius suffer just because your dick has a Napoleon complex the size of the Empire State Building.

The debriding stung like a motherfucker and Avery gritted his teeth, fingers gripping the pillow behind his head as he tried not to raise his hips from the bed. “Is this the part where I say ‘ow’?”

“Wimp.” Rhodey’s tone was soft. “Seriously though, you can cry if you want. Might make your face easier to clean.”

Abs rippling, Avery laughed, forgetting for a moment that Doc dug around in his leg without so much as a shot of something. “I heard usually around this place when things get stuck in holes at least one person enjoys it.”

Expression mild, Doc raised his head. “Who said I wasn’t?”

Grinning, Rhodey sat back. “Fuck, I missed this. Thanks for getting hurt, boy. I haven’t had this much fun since I almost got blown up.”

Avery pillowed his head on his arm and rolled to take Rhodey in. The blood on his lashes had dried and he had to blink fast to get the flakes out of his eyes. “When did you almost get blown up?”

At the question, Rhodey stilled. His lips curved slightly. “Found myself in the middle of a random demolition. It happens.”

Arm shifting, Doc brushed up against his junk, making him jump as his piercing slid to the side. The man’s mouth twitched. “Mhm. His is bigger, but yours is more responsive.”

“If we’re comparing, then I don’t mind telling you that I go by scale. I’m five-foot six.” Avery grinned at Doc, no longer feeling any pain. Blocking it out. As long as he didn’t move his left arm. “Proportion is important.”

The man packed his wound with some special gauze or shit, and set about stitching up a couple deeper cuts, not commenting. Avery laid back and closed his eyes. Floating. He was seriously floating.

Doc’s hands left him briefly, and he drifted into a strange half-asleep state. Chilled fingers touched his arm, shifting his elbow, and he sat straight up with his shout. “Motherfucker!”

“The mouth on these subs.” Rhodey observed him, gaze lifting from his pierced dick to his arm. “Should I get the soap now or nah?”

Breathing hard, Avery laid back, teeth squeaking together. “I don’t fucking care.”

Doc made an unimpressed sound, but at least he was gentler with his arm this time. “Nice elbow fracture. You’ll be feeling that for the rest of your life.”

Avery swiveled his head, glaring daggers. “No.”

Dark brows lifted before Doc met Rhodey’s gaze. “Quite the Renaissance man. Now he knows human anatomy.”

“I know one part of my anatomy that’s going to go up your ass if you don’t fix this.” Avery gritted the words through clenched teeth. No way—no fucking way—could he lose his ability to use that arm every way he needed to. He blinked hard and fast. “Just please fix it.”

“Feisty.” Rhodey gave Avery’s cheek a light tap. “He said you’d be feeling it, not that you won’t be able to use it. Settle, little snake. There’s no way you made it through all that training without a few nagging aches.”

Automatically, Avery’s gaze dropped to his feet where an ugly suture puckered the top of one. From his big toe to his ankle. Yeah. That was the only time he’d ever dropped one of the throwing axes and not gotten out of the way.

“Sorry.” Relaxing, he laid back and closed his eyes, shutting out both men.

Mistakes are not acceptable.

At least the care Doc took with him mostly didn’t come with more pain. He numbed the elbow with a shot, then slipped him some Oxy. The floating feeling wasn’t all endorphins now, and setting his elbow came more as a gross shifting than agony.

“I’m taking a fucking cab home.” Avery swallowed down the nausea. “Do they even have cabs in this town?”

“They do, but you’re not taking one tonight, boy. I don’t like wasting my time, and those fuckers see you, they’re liable to finish the job.” Rhodey squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll be too drugged up to annoy me. I won’t have to kill you myself, no worries.”

“You might want to get it out of the way while I can’t move very fast.” There went Avery’s mouth again. “It’ll save you the trouble later.”

Doc shook his head, tightening a sling around Avery’s arm and shoulder. “Don’t tempt him. He’s about to hit some record number, I’m sure.”

The huff Rhodey let out held some mock affront. “I am capable of being nice you know. I won’t seriously kill him just for the chatter. Or for making more laundry for me. Or giving my dick sympathy pains.”

Maybe it was the drugs, but that last part made absolutely no sense. Avery lifted his head to look down at his junk and pulled a confused frown. “I never road-tested it with anyone, but it feels nice when it slides back and forth against my palm.”

“Hmm, well that’s something I guess.” Rhodey lifted one heavily tattooed shoulder. “I know plenty of artists, but no piercers I’d trust that much. I’ve pictured some of my favorite ways to die but bleeding out from my dick is not one of them.”

“This conversation is actually too fucked up for me.” Doc brought up one hand, palm out. “Take the pain pills every six to eight hours. Don’t O.D. Don’t hallucinate. Don’t lift more than zero-point-zero pounds with your left arm.”

“I think probably bleeding out is the least painful way, but it’s goddamn messy.” Avery took the bottle of pills and stared at them blearily. “Poison would hurt. I’m not sure about getting shot. If you ganked someone in the head, it’d probably hurt only for a second. Again, kinda messy.”

Rhodey took the pills, speaking over Avery’s last few words. “Might need a weighted chain to make sure this one follows those instructions. And a gag. A gag might be good.” He set the pills on his dresser. “I’ll make sure he takes them. I have a kid and my sister got a new puppy. This can’t be harder than that.”

“And I come with jewelry.” Avery frowned. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. “No collar though. But housetrained.”

Without comment, Doc shook his head, then slipped out, taking his black bag with him.

Avery watched him go. “Does he ever turn into something? Like Mr. Hyde?”

Running a hand over his face, Rhodey stood back. “Depends how much you piss him off.” He adjusted the blankets, brow creasing slightly. “How are you feeling, other than high as a fucking kite?”

He watched Rhodey moving around the bed, enjoying the way his muscles and the intensity of his gaze registered up close. Staring openly, in a way he’d never dared, he licked his lips and tasted the dried blood on his lip rings. “Good. I mean, probably not a fuckable kite. But good.”

“You talk about your dick and fucking an awful lot for a sub who won his first fight and chose video games as his prize.” Rhodey left the room, returning shortly after with a tall glass of water and a straw. “And I know you’ve had your pick of Doms and fade out of sight the second one shows even passing interest. I find that fascinating.”

Avery slid his gaze away from Rhodey’s and took in the barren room. He tilted his head backward. No headboard. Mattress and box spring low to the floor. A tall mirror, about the size of a door. He didn’t let his gaze linger there. The bathroom was close enough that, if he drank all that water, he could get to it without too much trouble. Closet doors. Bedside lamp heavy enough to be used as a weapon if necessary.

Sensing Rhodey’s stare, he returned his attention to the man. “Was there a question buried in there, sir?”

“You’re a smart man, little snake. I’m sure you can figure it out.” Rhodey nudged his chin toward the water. “Take a few sips at least. I can get you some crackers if you’re hungry, but your stomach’s going to need some time before your head lets it keep down anything heavier.”

Obediently, Avery reached for the glass, taking a few sips before putting it down. Gave himself enough time to choose his lie carefully. “Because I wanted a friend, and he’s not my type. Mostly, no one here is.”

“Fair enough.” Rhodey adjusted Avery’s pillows. Smoothed the blanket again. “I’d get you another, but I don’t want you to overheat. Give me a shout if you need anything. For now, sleep.”

Watching the man retreat, Avery felt an unfamiliar tug in his middle. “Rhodey?”

Halfway through the doorway, Rhodey looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“I—” Stay. “Thank you, sir.”

Something in the man’s gray eyes made it clear he knew what had remained unsaid, and his lips curved slightly, but he simply nodded. “You’re welcome, Avery.”

Avery shut his eyes, making sure not to open them again. Morning would be soon enough to take in his surroundings. This room, this man, there was no telling what lurked in them. If he didn’t obey, he risked giving himself away. He was too tired anyway, and the dull ache bleeding through the pain relievers would increase in a few hours, waking him naturally.

Drifting, he tossed himself into strange dreams full of silks that turned into snakes. Rhodey was his handler, forcing him to climb higher and higher. Spikes lined the stage floor below. If he fell it’d be a messy death. The silk he held onto tore and he gasped, sitting up, grunting at the flash of pain in his arm. Blinking, he discovered daylight sliced past the curtains. His mouth was dry and everything hurt, including his bladder.

Hearing Rhodey’s voice in the kitchen, Avery froze by the bedroom door. He reached for his drinking glass and pressed it to the wood to catch the one-sided conversation.

“It’s Hollywood. That won’t be hard.” Rhodey let out an irritated sound. “If you were that worried, you should’ve made him stay home… No, I don’t give a fuck if he can’t see his buddy for a few days. Weeks. Whatever. Deal with it.” He paused. “You know I will. The question should be if I’ll be reporting to you. Which...no. Why should I?”

Avery rolled his eyes. Obviously, it was Noah on the other end of the line. How one pint-sized sub could manage to have everyone’s attention centered on him even from several thousand miles away was beyond Avery. Good thing Jamie didn’t need to sneak around and hide. The chances of his being successful were about as good as a two-ton gorilla climbing the Empire State Building and no one noticing.

“Just come home. You turn around and get on a fucking flight and I’m having the plane hijacked.” Rhodey snorted. “How is that not funny?”

Nodding to himself, Avery smiled a little. Rhodey’d do it too. He really should thank the pop star for helping with his mission. Dividing Rhodey’s attention could only serve the goal. Between needing to keep an eye on Jamie for Noah, and Lawson’s return, the man’s hands would be full.

“No, I really don’t give a fuck. You know better, don’t try to make me feel guilty. I don’t. Unlike Wren, he’s not getting a bullet in the head, I can promise you that. Oh...I didn’t realize you remembered that. Two subs? You? Good, because Wren needs you both.” Rhodey’s tone sharpened. “He needs to get past this and you should be here, helping him. I’m not fucking discussing this again. Pull yourself together, get Jared’s head in the game. It’s you or me. We both know which option is kinder. And I don’t care either way.”

Avery blew out a quiet breath, briefly considering a text to his handler to ask him to waylay Noah. Having Rhodey’s attention too distracted, however, might force Rhodey to find him another place to stay too soon. No. It’d be better if the other Dom were back under the roof with his, apparently, injured sub.

“Fucking Kovit.” Avery muttered to himself. “If you’d done the job right, he wouldn’t have had to suffer at all.”

Rhodey went quiet for a moment, then his tone took on a hard edge. “I don’t know what you’re trying at, but get it out of your fucking head now. Keiran’s not going to be a problem. Neither will Dallas. They understand what’s at stake. So should you.”

Tucking the information away, Avery made a mental note that the pair were a potential avenue to exploit if he needed to distract Rhodey further. He didn’t agree with Kovit’s methods, but there were ways other than injury and violence to split them off from the herd.

“Jamie being gone shouldn’t be easy. But deal with it. We’re done now, nephew.” Rhodey made another irritated sound, muttering to himself as though he’d already hung up. “Stupid. You left yourself wide fucking open. One of these days, you’re going to regret leaving him out of reach.”

Knowing Rhodey was off the phone and likely to come in at any time, Avery placed the glass back on the nightstand. He listened for a moment and detected movement in the kitchen—running water and the sounds of the dishwasher being unloaded. Time for another test...

Scooping his neatly washed and folded clothes off the dresser, he went to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he dressed in jeans that no longer held a trace of blood—though, the thigh had a hole the size of a large carpenter’s nail. He splashed water on his face, then dried off. Boots in his good hand, he looked around the room, not lingering anywhere near the mirror, but noting the cool breeze running over his feet. Breathing deep, he opened the bedroom door and walked silently to the front.

A normal knob on this side. Steel core door. Hinges unexposed.

He turned the knob.

“Leaving so soon?” Rhodey stepped out of the kitchen, flicking the lights on. “Considerate of you to be so quiet, but I’m hurt. No goodbye?”

He whirled, pretending surprise. Lips parted, he glanced toward the kitchen, then the bedroom, before meeting Rhodey’s eyes. The man was fast and had great hearing, but had he merely sensed him or seen him. Where would the security be in this room?

“I didn’t want to…” Thoughts of the things that could have happened in that bed last night brought heat to his cheeks. “Bother you.”

“You weren’t. And you don’t snore, which is a plus.” Rhodey folded his arms over his chest. “Let’s try something. You get back in that bed, let me give you your pills, and I’ll forgive you.”

Blood rushed to Avery’s face. Suddenly dizzy, he put a hand on the door so he wouldn’t fall.

Sighing, Rhodey crossed the room to pick him up, bringing him back to the bedroom and setting him on the bed. “I’m going to start charging you for carrier service. Don’t make me chain you to this bed, boy. You’re still healing.”

Avery breathed in the clean scent of Rhodey’s laundry soap and forgot to let go of his neck for a moment. Clearing his throat, he held the man’s gaze.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Not the response I usually get to that kind of restraint.” Rhodey let out a soft laugh and stroked Avery’s back. Then patted his hip before continuing. “I’m not sure what to make of you, little snake. You’re capable of taking care of yourself. If I went on looks alone, you almost seem…” He shook his head. “But I never do that. I won’t make you stay longer than necessary. Give yourself more than a fucking night to heal.”

And if Avery had gone on looks and reputation alone, he wouldn’t have had a single pang about deceiving this man. While his ruse had landed him a better space on the board than any he’d managed with a number of other moves since he’d arrived at The Asylum, Rhodey’s had him wanting to forfeit the game. He hated himself more than a little for using the man this way.

“Did you sleep in here last night? I don’t remember.” That thought should have chilled him, but instead it filled him with a tempting kind of curiosity.

Rhodey shook his head, settling Avery on the edge of his thigh rather than putting him down completely. “No, you were out of it and I figured you might wake up and assume the worst. Besides, I rarely sleep next to anyone.”

Smart man.

Watching Rhodey’s lips as he spoke, studying the way his firm pronunciation barely required any movement, he let himself be fascinated by the economy and precision. Lifting his eyes, Avery searched that dark gray gaze and soaked up the heat under the hand he still curved around the back of the man’s neck. “Most people wouldn’t be that kind.”

Thumb idly stroking Avery’s hip, Rhodey chuckled. “I am definitely not kind. But what happened to you last night shouldn’t have on my watch. You’re hurt and I want to see you back downstairs, flipping over things and being a smartass when no one notices.”

A slow smile warmed Avery’s gaze, and he tightened his fingers with the barest pressure. “I’m glad you did. It sucks to perform only for myself.”

“Do you enjoy it? Even without an audience?”

Tonguing one lip ring, Avery played with the metal. “I enjoy feeling my body move. Reaching. Trying new things. And landing where I picture going. It’s always better with the right kind of audience though. Because you can almost feel them moving with you.” He shifted his hip. “Like the silk, wrapping around you, sometimes so tight you wonder if you can move out of the hold.”

“I never paid much attention to that kind of performance, not like...an art. More the skill and the strength. Pretty visuals seemed a waste of time, but…” Rhodey’s lips curved slightly. “Maybe some time I’ll take another look.”

A world where Rhodey noticed him was...a terrifying temptation that he shouldn’t indulge. Damn it, since when had he stopped wanting to keep himself separate from the square his opponent occupied?

Pulse hammering under his jaw, Avery swallowed a throaty response and remained still. Silent. Trying neither to ask for what he strangely wanted, nor turning it away. Nothing in this moment could or would be his own idea. Whatever happened, he left in Rhodey’s broad hands.

Inhaling slowly, Rhodey studied him for a moment before easing him onto the bed. He gave him a long look, lips slanted. “All kinds of trouble. I wonder what’s going on behind those fucking gorgeous eyes, but if I tried to find out.” He leaned over Avery, whispering in his ear. “I’d probably have to kill you.”

A violent shudder walked up Avery’s spine, forcing a groan he clamped short with a sharp inhale. Eyes widening involuntarily, he froze, fingers curled into the duvet.

One hand on the pillow by Avery’s head, Rhodey lifted slightly. “Will you stay this time?”

Avery nodded.

Anything. Just go back to not noticing me.

Too fucking close to tearing down all his walls, he ducked behind a memory of the man who had taught him to tightrope walk. Taping feet that had been rubbed raw on repeated trips across the ropes. Jumping and twirling, the world somersaulting far below him when he made the circuit perfectly.

Brushing his lips over Avery’s, Rhodey nodded. “Good boy.” He pushed away from him and went across the room, opening the pill bottle and shaking one into his palm. He returned, holding it out. “Take this, I’ll get you some water. Do you think you’re up to eating anything yet?”

Food. I can talk about food.

“Yes, sir.” Taking the pill, he twirled it over his fingers and across his knuckles absentmindedly, catching it neatly as he popped it into the air.

Sound came from the kitchen after Rhodey left the room. The kettle boiling, utensils, plates rattling. Even humming some random tune, almost as though the man was making up for how quiet he usually was, while performing the simple task. He came in carrying a tray with a bowl of oatmeal, some plain sugar biscuits, a cup of coffee and a glass of some kind of sports drink.

He set it on the nightstand. Passed Avery the glass. “You need tons of water, but I find this works better after you fuck up your brain. The meds can make your mouth feel like you’ve given head under a mountain of sand.”

Unused to anyone talking to him like an equal, much less about things like sex, Avery hesitated to take the glass. “And people say doing it on the beach is so romantic.”

“Those people plan their relationships around postcards. And wouldn’t know good sex if someone implanted it in their skull.” Rhodey sat on the edge of the bed. “Which would be a neat trick.”

Visions of cyborg sex and anatomically correct robots collided with thoughts about the wrong kinds of implants. Which was so not sexy. At all. And probably a good thing, because Avery was having enough trouble remembering his name right now without screwing up the blood flow to his brain again. Lifting the glass, he drank deeply, keeping the straw away from his rings.

“I guess it’d be easier to have sex with an implant than a real person. Maybe.” Yeah. He needed to lay off the Oxy.

Rhodey chuckled and shook his head. “I almost forgot the details of your contract. Real people can be...difficult. But some seem to like them.” He glanced sideways at the bowl of oatmeal. “Not sure if you like this stuff, but it’ll fill you up and it’s pretty easy to digest. You prefer something else, just let me know.”

“This is great.” Avery reached for the tray. “Thanks. I can’t remember the last time anyone made me breakfast.”

Carefully blocking him, Rhodey grabbed the tray and balanced it on Avery’s lap. “Well, get used to it. I’m taking care of you. It’s a full-service deal. I’d feed you too, but I’m not that kind of Dom and you have one working hand.”

Full service.

Dom.

Ducking his head, Avery spooned up some oatmeal and stuffed it in his mouth before what was written on his face made it off his tongue. “Ish real gud.”

“Good. But give me some options anyway. Shockingly to many, I’m a decent cook. I’ve never starved any hostages anyway. Or my nephew, though he was kinda the same thing at the time.” Rhodey picked up the coffee and took a sip. “We can share this if you want, but I don’t want you having too much.”

Avery chewed, swallowed, and held out his hand for the mug, smiling his appreciation. No need to pretend happiness. The coffee smelled like heaven in a cup from here. “Yes, please.”

Shifting closer, Rhodey turned the cup to make the handle easy to latch onto with Avery’s uninjured hand, making sure Avery had a good grip before letting it go. “Is there anything you need while you’re here? I can grab you some books. Hook up some streaming services if you want to watch TV. I don’t have many channels. Mostly to check out the stocks to see if I can finally catch my sister putting money into a bad one.”

Tracey Leonov. Sister. Mother to Noah Leonov. Caretaker of stray animals and stray humans. Stocks the bar on the first Wednesday of each month. Arrives between eleven a.m. and three p.m. Coal Leonov. Son. Fifteen. Liked the knives. Avenue Avery no longer needed to exploit, but a good kid. He’d protect him if he could. Tracey too. Though Kovit had wanted to go for her next. Avery frowned. Would’ve been hard to stop the asshole, but he would’ve tried.

“I like the Times if you have it? The crossword.” Taking the spoon, he dug into the oatmeal. “Ever made malted waffles? They can make a mess of an iron, so you kind of have to be willing to spend a lot of time cleaning it after. I used to make them—” Fuck. He nearly bit his tongue off on his next words and shoved the oatmeal into his mouth.

Rhodey shook his head. “I haven’t, but finish what you were saying. Used to make them for who? Someone you hated? Did you poison them, because that would be both kinda sweet and devious and I might use that someday.”

Avery laughed despite himself, grabbing for the sports drink and trying to think fast. Someone traceable, believable. No one from his real family, because those threads led to a different name and a different life. He thought about what Rhodey would do if he leaned over and kissed him, visualized the man jerking back in horror, and it shot heat to his face. “The makeup artist I had a crush on when I was seventeen.”

“I take it your feelings weren’t returned?” Rhodey let out a teasing, heavy sigh. “He was an idiot and you definitely should’ve poisoned him. But when you’re up to it, you can show me how to make them the non-lethal way.”

He didn't have to lie when he took the coffee cup from Rhodey’s fingers and said, “As long as they’re not heart-shaped.”

Rhodey’s lips quirked. “Are we talking anatomically correct or those silly little Valentine's Day ones? Because the former would be fun. Wr— I know some people who’d get a kick out of that.”

Don’t blink, don’t blink, don’t blink.

Cup to his lips, he kept drinking, draining it to the bottom, and tucked back into the oatmeal. “Unfortunately, the other kind. It was a phase. I grew out of it.”

“Good thing. Broken hearts are messy.” Rhodey picked up the mug, making a face. “Give me a sec, I’ll get a refill.” He pointed at Avery as he rose from the bed. “You can’t have any. Bad boy. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you.”

Yeah, let’s not and say you did.

He smiled weakly. “Sorry about that. I’m glad you’re not one of those weird Doms. I can take a coffee restriction. That’s inhumane enough.”

“Oh?” Rhodey called out from the kitchen over the sound of the coffee pouring. “Define ‘weird’.”

Sliding down under the covers, he brought up his knees and stared at the ceiling. Pictured the men upstairs. “Oh, you know the type. All hanky spanky and apology happy. It’s like someone spilled Dom lite all over this place and forgot to clean up the residual glitter.”

In the doorway, Rhodey slowed, as though his laughter had distracted him from forward motion. He shook his head, bringing his coffee to the nightstand before taking the tray off Avery. Setting it aside, he fussed with the blankets, as he had the night before. “I don’t see anything wrong with some people preferring a milder version, but I couldn’t do it. Then again, if I ever did have a sub they’d have to be practically indestructible, smart, obedient so they didn’t get their fucking head blown off…” He cocked his head. “And we’re back to talking about robots.”

Putting his good hand under his head, Avery watched Rhodey smirk over his coffee mug, heavy brow lowering toward the crinkles around his eyes.

“Welp. That’s three strikes for me.” Indicating his bruised chest, he flicked one of his piercings dismissively. “Obviously destructible, only barely obedient, and—” He sat up a little, wincing. “Definitely not a robot.”

“I didn’t say I wanted a robot.” Rhodey took another sip of coffee. “It usually doesn’t take more than one death threat to shift any interest way back into the kiddie pool. I could say that makes you not that smart, but I know better. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” He brushed his fingers gently down Avery’s damaged arm. “And I think you’ve only just discovered you’re not indestructible, which is a good thing.”

“So, um…” Gaze on those large hands with the blunt nails that would clean up well after a hit, Avery tried to figure out which one of them was the crazier S.O.B. “How many death threats equals an invitation to the deep end?”

Rhodey arched a brow. “Good question. I didn’t know for a long time, but the new record is...almost daily. Huh.”

This gave a whole new meaning to the phrase flirting with danger.

“You know, I’ve always been a part of the sink or swim club. But, I have a feeling your dance card is full.” There weren’t many times—ever—he’d shown blatant interest in someone. Avery didn’t know if it was the drugs, the desperation, or desire that made him throw himself on this particular spear. Perhaps all three. “So that’s cool. But I like your style.”

“It’s not full, Avery. It’s not safe for there to be a single permanent name there.” Rhodey lifted his hand to Avery’s cheek, both anger and heat warring in his gaze. “I should’ve killed at least one of those fuckers, damn it. Jared was right.” He traced his finger over a sore spot along Avery’s jaw. “But...you’re here. Safe enough for now. We’ll see what happens. The idea of something more than ‘Dom lite’ often seems appealing until you get exactly what you were asking for.”

Feeling his own gaze flare, need forming a tight little fist at points along his spine, Avery swept his tongue over his lip rings. “Yes, sir. I can see where it might trouble you to step over that line. Anatomically correct hearts, how did you put it?” Closing his eyes, he breathed deep and surfed the edge of danger that licked around his arousal. “They’re messy.”

“Mhm.” Rhodey brought his thumb to Avery’s bottom lip. “Only after you rip them out. Which is rarely necessary.” He toyed with one of the lip rings. “Do you have any idea how sexy these are? Like little fangs. Not cheap Halloween ones, real and out there and making a statement. I like that.”

Tugs at the corner of his mouth translated to jerks lower down, and Avery sucked in a long, slow breath, letting it out just as slowly. “They’re a test.”

Brow lifted, Rhodey met his eyes, his thumb moving just below the curve of his lips. “Oh?”

Not wanting to disturb the caress, Avery barely moved his mouth when he answered. “If you can’t handle them… You can’t handle me.”

“I can definitely handle you, boy.” Rhodey moved closer, lids hooded. He leaned over him much as he had earlier, only this time he didn’t look like he had any plans to move away anytime soon. “But you brought up not being very obedient. That’s not a game you want to play with me.”

Running backward over the last several hours, Avery frantically searched for any moment when he might have failed to follow an order and came up empty. Had he fucked this up merely by being honest, or was this a test of how truthful he’d been? His eyes widened when he stumbled into the mind-fuck.

Unsure whether this was the board they played on, he moved his piece. “I never found someone worth bowing to...before.”

“And you didn’t make me chain you to the bed.” Rhodey flicked his tongue over Avery’s bottom lip. “Definitely smart, the obedience is there if I choose to demand it. You’re losing all the strikes against you, little snake.”

Having been the hunter for so long, Avery found himself tipping suddenly into the mind of the prey. As easy as changing clothes...or shedding his skin. “Good thing you don’t want a robot then.”

A soft laugh slid a warm breath over Avery’s lips before Rhodey caught his bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly and playing his tongue over the rings, one after another, as though he was fascinated with them, before he claimed Avery’s mouth in full. His hand curved behind Avery’s neck, lifting him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dipping in, tasting, leaving every sensitive part of his mouth feeling like something the man could bring to life and control him with, using nothing more than the pressure of his lips.

Avery opened, eager to explore the sensations, groaning through a surge of desire that had his fist pressing between Rhodey’s shoulders. As far as first kisses went, this would probably go down in the record books. Not in his wildest dreams had he envisioned Rhodey’s mouth would feel like this. He swore he could come just from the taste and heat, the expert slide of lips and tongue.

Losing the battle to keep his hips still, Avery drew a ragged breath and thrust upward.

“Careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Rhodey pressed one hand down on Avery’s hip. “So responsive. I’m going to enjoy you.” He smiled against Avery’s lips. “Now let’s see how well you obey. You’re going to close your eyes and rest, with me here. You won’t leave the bed until I allow it.” He brought his hand to Avery’s throat. “And needless to say, if you try to kill me, it’s over.”

Lips still tingling, the taste of Rhodey on his tongue, Avery cleared his throat just to feel the vibration against Rhodey’s palm. Blinking twice, he ever-so-obediently closed his eyes.

Resting...that was going to take a little longer.

Shifting to lay beside him, Rhodey brought Avery’s head to his shoulder, curving his hand to hold him close. He relaxed, likely as much as he ever did, speaking quietly to himself. “I fucking hope I don’t regret this.”

That makes two of us.

Except in this game that outcome was the only one virtually guaranteed.

For them both.