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- J. L. Langley, Jet Mykles, Jet Mykles
The Ties That Bind Page 2
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Page 2
Noah glanced around. Only the three of them were at the bar. There were customers at two of the tables on the other side of the large room. They couldn't possibly see, even if they might be interested. Only Juan and Eddie were in the kitchen and they weren't allowed to come out front. The rest of the wait staff were busy or out of sight. Mr. Cortez, the owner, wouldn't be in until much later.
With shaking hands, Noah reached for the box.
The nine previous gifts had come in similar gift boxes, wrapped in gold foil and a tied red velvet ribbon. The first few gifts had been candy. Lemon drops and fruit sours, a gourmet kind he'd never before heard of. He'd been tickled to find that his mysterious gift giver knew of his preference for tart sweets. Then there had come the trendy green newsboy cap, then the yellow silk shirt, then the studded denim jacket. All very cool gifts from someone who knew his taste in clothing. Then had come the wrist cuffs. Hand-crafted leather with an intricate design hammered into them. It was Kenneth who'd pointed out that the three big D-rings and the soft layer of fur inside made them exquisite bondage cuffs. Noah had scoffed and worn them as jewelry the following night when he'd gone clubbing. Next came a set of moonstone studs for his ears. Then had come the nipple chain. That one he couldn't deny was both very personal and very sexual. Also very beautiful. The fact that it had hooks for his nipple rings instead of clamps for unpierced nipples meant that the unknown gift giver had, at the very least, seen Noah's bare chest. Unfortunately, that didn't narrow the playing field too far since Noah had been known to go clubbing in vests with no shirt.
They had decided when the denim jacket appeared that the gift giver was a man. The fact that he obviously knew Noah and his preferences said that he had to know Noah was gay. A woman, they speculated, would surely have given up.
Setting the paper and ribbon on the narrow counter on his side of the bar, Noah lifted the lid and parted the tissue paper. A folded vellum note was always set just on top of whatever gift was inside. Lifting it away, his eyes widened. There was a thick chain that looked to be either white gold or platinum lying on a padding of faux black velvet.
"Is that a padlock?” Rachel whispered, brown eyes wide in surprise as she pointed at the gold lock that looped through one end of the chain like a charm. A stylized ‘N’ was engraved on the lock.
"Yes it is.” Noah fingered the little ring with two tiny keys that lay beside it.
"Why would he give you a chain with a padlock?"
Noah looked up and met Kenneth's knowing gaze. They saw this thing all the time at some of the clubs they visited. “Because,” Kenneth said, looking at Noah and not at the chain, “he wants to own Noah."
"'Own'?"
Kenneth nodded. He blinked his gaze away from Noah and looked at Rachel. “It's a collar."
"What? Like a dog?"
Kenneth laughed, reaching over to squeeze Rachel's shoulder. “Oh, my dear, you are so naïve."
"What?” Not at all offended, Rachel leaned in to him. “How'm I supposed to know these things if you don't tell me?"
While Rachel interrogated Kenneth, Noah unfolded the note and read it:
Noah,
Don't put this on. I want you to have it, but I want to be the one to put it around your neck. And that I won't do until you ask for it. Since that can't happen unless we meet, it's time to do just that.
Rachel and Kenneth abruptly stopped talking when Noah caught his breath, but he read on.
6:00PM tomorrow evening at the Castle Inn. Room 225. A keycard is in the box.
I would appreciate it if you wore the nipple chain.
Yours,
Me
Noah pinched the black faux velvet lining the box and lifted it, revealing a hotel keycard.
"What's that?” Rachel squealed.
Kenneth plucked the note from his fingers. Rachel leaned on his arm as they both read it.
Noah stared at the keycard, his heart beating wildly.
"Hey,” Rachel cried. “How did he know you'd be off before six tomorrow?"
* * * *
With the gift box and its contents clutched to his heart, Noah left the bar and headed toward the employee break/locker room. He hurried through the kitchen, avoiding Juan and Eddie and kept his head down so none of the wait staff would stop him. He raised his head when he reached the break room and almost failed to hold back a startled shout.
Richard Maeda, the other bartender due to take over for Noah, stood beside the lockers with his back to Noah and his shirt off. The tight embroidered pants that they were made to wear hugged one of the finest asses Noah had ever seen in his life and the bare expanse of creamy tan skin over mouth-watering muscles was enough to make Noah want to fall to his knees in worship.
As it was, he did stumble, catching himself on the door frame.
Hearing him, Richard turned. “Hey, Noah,” he smiled.
The view from the front was just as heart-stopping. Perfect muscles with the healthy start of a six-pack and not a bit of chest hair. Not that Noah minded chest hair, but to see Richard without was a marvel. Noah realized that he'd never seen Richard without his shirt before, although he'd fantasized about it many, many times. With short black hair spiked at the top and those vaguely Japanese features, he was gorgeous and Noah wasn't the only one to think so. If he had to name someone who he wished was his mysterious gift giver, it would be this man. It really was too bad he was straight.
Noah took a breath and balanced on his feet. “Hey."
"Sorry I'm late."
Nodding, Noah hurried to the bench that stood before the small bank of lockers. “Brad's covering until you're ready."
Richard slipped into a white tank undershirt as Noah set the box down before turning to the lockers.
Richard sat, straddling the narrow bench. Noah did not notice the very nice bulge in those tight pants as Richard tucked in the shirt. “Hey, is this from the mystery man?"
Noah tried to watch him out of the corner of his eye as he spun the combination of his lock. “Yeah."
Richard picked it up and removed the lid. He knew about the other gifts—all the other gifts, unlike some whom Noah had only told about the candy and clothing. Noah had let him know mainly to see his reaction. Hoping, in a small part of his heart, that Richard would spill the beans and admit he was the mystery man. It was a small hope but Noah was helpless to quash it.
Richard held up the chain by the padlock and whistled. “Damn."
Noah opened the locker then sat down to remove his slip-on ankle boots. “Yeah."
"You do know what this is, don't you?"
Noah gave him a teasing glance. “Do you?"
"This is an ownership collar.” Seeing Noah's raised brow, he flushed, dropping the collar back into the box. “Hey, I get around."
"Indeed!"
"Fuck you."
"Any time."
Richard laughed, putting down the box. Like Mitch, he found being hit on by gay men flattering rather than offensive. Unfortunately, it didn't float his boat.
Richard stood back up and pulled his embroidered shirt from a hanger within his locker. “So are you freaked yet?"
"Some,” Noah admitted, standing to set his boots on the top shelf of his locker.
Richard snorted. “I don't blame you. Hot little number like you, it's no wonder some guy wants to own you. I'm surprised it hasn't happened before."
His leather oxfords in hand, Noah sat hard on the bench, gaping up at Richard.
In the midst of buttoning his shirt, Richard gave him a blank look. “What?"
"What did you just say?"
Richard smiled, flushing just a little around the ears exposed by the short cut of his thick black hair. “Oh come on, man. I may prefer girls, but I'd have to be blind not to know you're a looker."
Noah grinned. He'd never known Richard found him attractive. It made his heart swell and his hope that Richard was just leading him on and really was the mystery man grew. He batted his eyes coyly. “Why thank you, sir."
Richard laughed. “Don't start."
"What's the matter, big boy? Afraid I might convert you?"
He snorted, starting to tuck in his shirt. “Hardly. But even if you could—” he tipped his chin toward the box laying on the bench, “—your mysterious lover might have issues."
Noah stared up at the box, his shoes still sitting in his lap. Was Richard that good an actor? Could he be the mystery man and still give such a convincing act? Unfortunately, Noah suspected not.
"Maybe you should go to the police."
Lost in his own thoughts, it took a moment for Richard's sentence to register. “What?” He saw Richard's concerned look and frowned. “No! Why?"
"Look at what he's given you."
"They're just gifts."
"Come on, man, you're not that naïve. That chain's a collar. This guy could be a stalker."
Noah blinked, then bent to set his shoes on the floor before him. “No. I'm not. I'm still not calling the police."
"You're turned on, aren't you?"
Noah didn't answer until he finished putting on his shoes. “I'm intrigued,” he admitted slowly.
"You ever going to meet the mystery man?"
Instead of answering, Noah plucked the folded note from the box and handed it to Richard.
Richard whistled again after reading it. “Well hot damn.” He handed it back, smiling again. “And just a few days before Valentine's Day. How romantic."
Noah stared at him in surprise, neglecting to take back the vellum paper.
Richard grinned, setting the paper on the bench. “Didn't realize what the date was?” He stood and glanced at the mirror beside the lockers, smoothing a hand over the buttoned front of his shirt.
"No. I didn't."
Richard grinned at him. “I'll betcha it occurred to him."
* * * *
Hands shaking, Noah inserted the key card and pushed into the room. It was a standard hotel suite with a sitting room, a bedroom and a bathroom off the bedroom. In the sitting room, the low table that usually would sit before the couch had been pushed up against the air/heater unit underneath the window on the far wall. The curtains were drawn and one lit lamp provided illumination. A chair that clearly did not match any other furniture in the sitting room sat square in the middle of the empty space. It was almost plain, but not quite, a well made wooden ladder back with thick, sturdy legs and arms. The seat was wide and thinly padded with shiny leather.
Quickly turning on the light in the bedroom to chase away the shadows, Noah found it empty with the bed neatly made. He was alone in the suite.
On the seat of the chair was a gold wrapped box.
Noah dropped the keycard, his wallet and keys on the shelf of the cabinet that held the coffee maker and supplies. Wiping sweaty palms on his slacks, he approached the chair. The box was maybe eight inches square and half again as deep with an easy lift lid. Biting his lip, Noah lifted the lid and parted the tissue paper.
Underneath the folded note was a wrapped bar of soap, a black silk scarf, folded black silk pajama bottoms, four small votive candles in glass cups, a box of matches, a small bottle of lube and a four inch red jelly butt plug. The last was still in plastic with a picture of a cute guy clearly in orgiastic heaven. The soap and candles smelled strongly of lemon.
Once he'd identified the contents of the box, Noah unfolded the note:
Noah,
I'd love to smell the lemon soap on your gorgeous skin when I arrive at 7:00PM sharp. Light the candles around the room and turn off the rest of the lights.
When I walk in, I want to see you sitting on this chair wearing the pajamas with the plug in your ass. The blindfold is to be on, so that you can't see. I will check.
If you're not wearing the blindfold when I walk in, game over.
Yours,
Me
Noah set down the note and held the scarf in his hands, twisting so that his wrists were momentarily pinned. He brought the fabric to his nose, hoping to catch a whiff of the man who had given it. Nothing.
He closed his eyes, hearing the warnings echo through his head. Richard was not the only one to point out how dangerous this was. All of his friends would flip to know what had been demanded in the note, let alone that Noah was considering complying. Did he dare do this?
He opened his eyes and looked down, focusing on the butt plug. Every note from the mystery man had been short but solicitous. Gifts were given with Noah's likes in mind. Even if the man was a stalker, it didn't seem likely that he was a dangerous one.
And chances like this did not occur to everyone and certainly never happened more than once in a lifetime.
He smiled. Yes, he did dare.
Plucking the soap out of the box, he took it to the bathroom. A glance at the clock told him he had almost an hour to get ready. He'd already taken a shower before coming, but clearly the lemon-scented soap had some significance to the man. Or the man knew that citrus scents were his favorite.
He couldn't stop grinning, watching himself as he pulled his straight hair out of the tail at the nape of his neck. Deftly, he used the hair band to twist it all on top of his head. He toed out of his shoes and got out of his slacks, socks and underwear. The nipple chains dangled deliciously across his chest as he unbuttoned the yellow silk shirt. Dropping the shirt atop the rest of his clothing, he laughed at his half erect cock and gave it a fond stroke. “Soon, I hope,” he promised it.
He took his time with the shower, letting the hot water ease some of the nervous tension from his muscles. The soap filled the steam with its tart scent as he laved it over his skin.
He was getting hard now, thinking of what might happen. Why must he be blindfolded? What did the mystery man have in mind? He considered jerking off. After all, his anonymous admirer hadn't told him not to. But he refrained. He didn't feel like having his own hands tonight, at least not at his own direction. Besides, Noah loved the sense of anticipation.
Out of the shower, he dried himself and used the hotel hair dryer. He suspected the new little hairbrush on the counter was from his secret admirer and used it until his hair practically floated in a yellow-white cloud about his head. Liking how it turned out, he decided to leave it down. Satisfied, he gathered his clothes and returned to the bedroom to lay them on the luggage rack to the far side of the bed. After turning out the lamp, he returned to the main room. The chair beckoned to him and he spent a moment sliding his fingers along the smooth varnished of the back and arm. Experimenting, he pushed at the back and found that the chair was heavy. Delicious ideas of why this was so rolled through Noah's mind.
Whistling to himself, he set the four candles in the four corners of the room and lit them before turning out off the lamp. Immediately, a close, romantic feeling settled over him, the shadows around the room subduing the colors of the furniture and splashy artwork on the pale green walls.
He picked up the lube and the plug. He glanced at the couch and discarded that as the place to sit to do this. So, instead, he stood by the chair and set one foot on the seat. He poured lube over the plug and smeared it on, then held onto the back of the chair with one hand as he used the other to tease himself. He'd done this before. He loved butt plugs and had a small collection of his own in various shapes and sizes. On a lonely night, they served as an excellent mode of stimulation and on a not-so-lonely night ... well, new lovers usually got a kick out of finding a plug in the ass they intended to fuck. He eased the pointed end of the plug into his hole, relaxing and pushing out as the toy stretched him. He couldn't help a groan, or resist the urge to rub the toy in and out a few times. His dick nodded in appreciation of the pleasure that zinged through him.
A quick trip to the bathroom for a small towel to dry his hands then he was back to shake out the pajama pants and put them on. The silk felt deliciously decadent against his freshly washed skin, not to mention his freshly shaved crotch. Would his soon-to-be lover approve? Too late to worry about that now.
Awash in the warm citrus scent fr
om the candles and his own skin, Noah glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until seven.
Obeying an urge, he went ahead and sat down. He wiggled his ass to jostle the plug, enjoying the rush of pleasure as it rubbed his gland. He lifted the black silk scarf to his eyes. Slowly, drawing out the moment for himself, he tied the scarf around his eyes. The urge to leave peeking room was strong, but he didn't give in to it. He had a feeling that his unknown lover would check and just might leave if he disobeyed. He wasn't going to take the chance of losing the man now that he was so close. Not before at least one encounter to give him some feel of who he was. Once the scarf was tied, Noah arranged his hair over it then sat back in the chair. He placed his heels against the front legs and settled his forearms on the arms.
And waited.
The tension was amazing. He almost gave in and removed the scarf a few times just to check the time. But he resisted. He forced himself to sit still. It made him abnormally aware of himself. The smell of his skin. The waft of heated air on his skin, making his nipples pucker. The black silk warming against his thighs and teasing his hard cock. The firm jelly inside his ass, pressing that spot that would keep him erect and aware.
He heard footsteps in the hallway outside the room and hope surged, only to dwindle to disappointment when the walking continued past the door.
How much time was left?
More footsteps. This time they stopped. The lock clicked and beeped.
The door opened.
Noah damn near came at the sound. He clutched the arms of the chair, willing his body to relax. A tiny voice at the back of his head screamed that this could be dangerous but it was easily ignored in the flood of lust surging through his bloodstream.
Soft footsteps came close as the door quietly snicked shut. Fabric whooshed and sounded like it fell on the couch. A coat? His hyper-aware hearing monitored the sound of footsteps stopping. Was he imagining that he felt the heat of the man's legs right in front of his knees?
The touch of fingertips on his jaw made him jump.
"Shhhh."
Noah swallowed. He tilted his head into the hand, which turned to fully cup his jaw. The thumb stroked the dip between his chin and lower lip. The hand was large and very clearly male.