Beyond the Footlights, page 31
“I got you an early Christmas present.”
“I thought we agreed we would exchange gifts tomorrow with the others.”
Tanner’s grin was lascivious. “I’m fairly certain the others would not appreciate the special nuances of this one.”
“Really.” Intrigued, Kilmer followed, docile but curious.
In Tanner’s bedroom, he had stripped the heavy wooden bed of its comforter. Next to it sat an elegant chair, wooden arms and legs stripped down to the bare pale wood, gleaming softly in the candlelight under probably numerous coats of clear Varathane. It sported blue and cream leather stripes, stitched together and stretched over the plump seat and back. Kilmer thought it looked vaguely familiar.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Do you recognize it?”
“Is this the one that was in my house? In the bedroom?” He remembered a slightly rickety chair with dark wood legs and missing arms, covered in threadbare ugly green brocade. The seat, if it was the same chair, had been slightly concave with age and old compressed batting.
“I had to carve out new armrests and make supports for them. Found some reclaimed wood so it would match the age of the rest. Do you like it?”
Kilmer stared at it. He still had trouble sometimes when he closed his eyes not seeing that image of Rocky straddling Jacko in that chair. It had been one of the main reasons he found it hard to sleep. It had been better since Thanksgiving, now that he could reach over and feel Tanner in the bed with him. That eased some of his anxiety but also reminded him he was moving on from that time in his life when he’d thought it was okay to let Jacko disrespect him so badly. Now he had a guy who knew Kilmer’s worth and treated him accordingly.
They spent progressively more nights together, even if all they did was kiss and cuddle and go to sleep. They were both too tired for anything more strenuous, with all the work there was to do at the ranch and the breakneck pace Tanner had set for himself at the house.
Now Kilmer stared at the offending chair, and it occurred to him that with the arms replaced, it would be impossible for anyone to fuck in that chair ever again. Another nail tightly closing the lid of the coffin of his dead relationship.
“I like it,” he said quietly, even as he wondered if Tanner had any idea of the significance of restoring that particular piece of furniture. Probably not. Kilmer hadn’t given him the gory details of that night. It was more information than Tanner needed to know about his new boyfriend, his newly committed drummer, and an ex-bandmate. It was kismet that Tanner had chosen the chair over the dining table or some other relatively old, in-need-of-TLC piece of furniture in Kilmer’s home.
“Good. Although that wasn’t actually the surprise I had for you. I meant to put that under the tree. Come inside.” He took Kilmer’s hand and led him toward the bed.
Now that he was paying less attention to the chair and more attention to everything else, Kilmer realized the room was pleasantly warm, candlelit, and smelled less sharply of Christmas tree and more like beeswax and something understated but slightly spicy. Tension rolled out of his shoulders as he drew in a breath.
“I thought about what you said way back,” Tanner said, leaving Kilmer standing next to the bed and moving forward to tug at a quilt that hung on the wall above the headboard, “when I gave you my limitations, and you sussed out it was because I needed to see your face to make sure I didn’t miss a cue.”
Kilmer nodded.
“I’ve been busy. There was a reason I didn’t want you in the workshop at your place since Thanksgiving.” He carefully pulled the quilt down to reveal the reflection of the softly lit room in a huge mirror mounted on the wall at the head of the bed. The frame was fashioned from various shades of wood interlaid to form a harlequin pattern. It had a simple grid of wooden slats along the top that echoed the way the mirror peeked between the headboard’s slats along the bottom.
It was a gorgeous piece of woodworking, and Kilmer was amazed at how much Tanner had achieved in just a few weeks. “It’s beautiful,” he said, caressing the smooth surface of the frame. “And ever-so-slightly kinky.” His skin heated at the thought of kneeling in front of that huge expanse of glass with Tanner behind him.
“Well.” Tanner stroked Kilmer’s back, fingers playing down his spine to the top of his jeans’ waistband. “I have an issue I need to deal with.” He shrugged. “And you struck a chord when you asked if I had never trusted anyone to understand that issue and accommodate it.” He turned Kilmer around. “And you were right. I never have. Not really. I always thought of it as my issue and mine to worry about. And it is. But that isn’t how relationships really work. There isn’t a line between trusting you to respect my limits and trusting you to understand them and help me push them.”
“Hard limits are hard limits,” Kilmer reminded him.
That got him a nod. “Yes, and I don’t see a day coming when I won’t need to see your face, especially in a very intense scene. But I was rigid in saying there was only one way that could happen, one way to keep you safe and that it had to be my way. I just wanted to show you that when you’re ready, so am I. We can talk about things. Find solutions. Make this work.”
Kilmer had known that. In some recess of his heart, he had known that Tanner was patient enough, willing, brave enough to meet him halfway if ever Kilmer found the courage to begin the journey in the first place. Without analyzing why he needed to, he gripped Tanner’s face in his hands and drew him into a deep, breath-stealing kiss. It was the only real response he had to the gift of his lover’s time and effort.
Tanner didn’t let him control the kiss for very long. Kilmer didn’t really care. He let Tanner take over, acquiesced to the movement when Tanner removed Kilmer’s hands from his face and drew his arms down to his sides and held them there.
It meant he couldn’t touch Tanner, that Tanner wasn’t touching him other than the kiss and that connection of fingers closed around wrists. It made his heart race to know Tanner wanted him under his control, even in this small way. Eventually the kiss faded to mere brushes of their lips and Tanner spoke.
“You need to take your shirt off,” he husked. “Skin. Now.” He released Kilmer’s hands but didn’t step away.
Kilmer undid the buttons on the flannel and skimmed it off, then peeled away the T-shirt underneath.
“Better,” Tanner approved, and once more he had both Kilmer’s wrists in his grip. “Turn.” He let go of one arm long enough for Kilmer to turn so his back was to Tanner. In no time, Tanner had his hands behind his back, left over right, and Kilmer gripped his own wrist.
Automatically he parted his legs so his feet were shoulder-width apart and he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and fixed his gaze to the middle distance. He was glad of the warmth of the room in the sometimes-drafty house, and it occurred to him there was at least some premeditation going on. Often enough they both stripped down to boxers and dove under the covers as gooseflesh formed on their limbs. Tanner had taken the time to set a small fire in the bedroom grate and keep it going long enough to warm the room.
So this had been planned. That idea made Kilmer’s heart race, and he pulled in a deep breath.
“All right?” Tanner asked, moving to stand in front of him.
“More than,” Kilmer whispered.
Tanner’s smile filled his eyes and deepened the shadow of the dimple under his beard on his right cheek. “Good. Don’t move.”
Easy enough to comply with that command. Kilmer had no wish to go anywhere.
Tanner circled him, appraising, making Kilmer acutely aware of the threads of his jeans tickling the tops of his bare feet, the warm dig of his huge belt buckle against his belly, and the way his nipples tightened at the idea of Tanner looking him over. He hoped he passed inspection.
A rough palm ghosted over his shoulder, slid along his skin until callused fingertips trailed down his bicep to his inner forearm. “I knew this would look good on you,” Tanner said, tone gruff and tight, like he couldn’t quite catch his breath.
“What would?” The oversized belt buckle? The threadbare jeans? Nothing at all? That thought made Kilmer’s heart race double-time.
Instead of replying immediately, Tanner went to his small nightstand and pulled open a drawer. Inside was an assortment of neatly coiled ropes and ties. Kilmer’s mouth went very dry.
Tanner was watching him carefully again. “Does that appeal to you?” he asked.
Oh, how it appealed to him. He nodded, unable to summon up enough saliva for speech. His palms tickled with sweat, warming and tingling, making him want to wiggle his fingers, but he managed to resist the urge. He shifted his weight, though, overeager and nervous all at once.
“Calm down,” Tanner soothed, brushed that rough palm down the outside of his arm, tugged lightly on a belt loop when he got there, and offered a sly, crooked grin. “We’re not in a hurry, are we?”
“No,” Kilmer managed and wanted to protest that he was perfectly fine, calm as could be, and in one hell of a rush to have the opportunity to show Tanner the full spectrum of his submission. But it would be a lie to say he was calm, and he’d suffered the consequences of not being completely honest with one Dom. He wasn’t going to risk that with Tanner. Closing his eyes, he tried to take a deep breath, remembering Lenore’s measured voice. As he had done in her office, he miraculously filled his lungs. As he let the air go slowly, controlled, Tanner made a sound of approval.
“We don’t have to do any—”
“I want—” Kilmer bit his lip. “Sorry,” he mumbled, already miserable for not having the patience God gave a hyper puppy. This was Tanner’s scene. All Kilmer could—or should—do was wait and see where Tanner wanted to take things.
But Tanner only chuckled and touched his arm again. “Look at me?”
Kilmer obliged and opened his eyes to find Tanner still watching him. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Whatever you want is fine.”
“We both have to want it,” Tanner reminded him. “But I’m not a mind reader. So tell me what you want.”
“Tie my wrists,” Kilmer said before he could overthink it. “Tight.” He jerked his chin at the drawer. “Cotton rope.” He swallowed hard but met Tanner’s gaze. “Please.”
Tanner’s slow smile was all heat and approval. “Okay. Now we’re getting someplace.”
He moved, slow as molasses, but he did pick up a length of thick cotton rope and sidled behind Kilmer, positioned Kilmer’s hands and arms to his liking, then wrapped the cord around them.
“For now I’m keeping it simple. You’ll be able to twist out if you have to.”
Kilmer held the disappointment at bay and nodded. He understood the necessity. He just didn’t think a man as attentive and careful as Tanner would ever put him in a position to need the escape route. But if Tanner needed him to have it, then it was going to happen. He’d make peace with it. They would work it out. Hadn’t Tanner promised that already?
The bindings were tight, as he’d requested, abrading his skin just enough to make his blood rush and his heart skip, even though an experimental twist of his wrists revealed just how he could wriggle out of them should the need arise.
“Okay?” Tanner asked.
“Yes.” The slow pace was more nerve-racking than anything Jacko had demanded of him. Then he had been able to simply comply, carried along by Jacko’s flood of commands, washed away in the moment, all regrets swept aside.
Now he was forced to continually check in with himself and with Tanner. With each command, to kneel, to get comfortable, to watch while Tanner leisurely stripped in front of him and began stroking himself, his heart rate increased, his skin prickled, and his cock hardened behind his zipper. Underneath all those pleasurable sensations, his mind raced, trying to wrap around the idea that Tanner wouldn’t permit him to ignore a single sensation, good or bad.
It was overwhelming.
In the past he had been hard-pressed to keep up with Jacko, anticipate his needs, be where Jacko needed him to be, and serve as best he could. There were no such mental gymnastics with Tanner. Before Kilmer had time to wonder what came next, or what Tanner might want from him, Tanner was instructing him, making sure he was comfortable, touching him, soothing the nerves, calming the anticipation, forcing him to stay in the exact moment where Tanner held sway.
“I can see it’s going to take some time to untrain all your bad habits.” He trailed fingers down the side of Kilmer’s face until his fingertips rested at the underside of Kilmer’s chin. Lifting Kilmer’s face, Tanner peered down at him. His eyes, dark and focused, penetrated the swirl of thoughts Kilmer couldn’t still. “Jacko never had any control over you, did he?”
Kilmer didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say to that. Hadn’t he twisted his entire life to fit into Jacko’s world? If that wasn’t control, what was it?
“Do you ever stop thinking? Anticipating? I want your lips around my dick, and your mind is in next week.” He rubbed a thumb over Kilmer’s lips. “Come back to me, Tex. I won’t do this until you’re here with me.”
Kilmer blinked up at him. Where else could he possibly be?
But Tanner was right. Kilmer kept getting lost in his head when he should be lost in the moment.
“You need discipline.”
The ground vanished out from under the calm he’d almost managed to trust. Like walking through deep sand, he couldn’t get a mental foothold on that concept. Couldn’t turn from the dark path he always knew such talk led down. Something of the chasm that opened in his belly must have shown on his face.
“Easy.” Tanner lifted his chin a little more. “Don’t.” He all but glared into Kilmer’s eyes. “Don’t panic. I mean only that you need to learn to concentrate. Maybe need me to help you focus.” He smiled, and it was all power and dominance. “I can do that. This isn’t going to be anything like what you knew before, I don’t think. But we’re not going to talk about lifestyle choices right now. We’re going to discuss blow jobs.” He lifted that dark, expressive eyebrow. “Yes?”
He had to lick his lips before he could speak, but Kilmer managed a small yes in response.
“Good.” Tanner took the last step forward, close enough now Kilmer could smell his musk and sweat, the precome, and the gingery scent of Tanner’s bodywash wafting off both of them. He focused on that. The scent of Tanner’s soap on his own skin and also nestling in the curls at the base of Tanner’s cock united them. It wound in around the back of his brain and coiled through his synapses. He breathed it in and let it out again to hang between them. It cocooned them in that intimate space where all he had to worry about was how Tanner was touching him, guiding his head, running the tip of his cock along his lips.
“Open up, Tex,” Tanner whispered. “That’s it.” Gently he slid inside Kilmer’s mouth. The motion was slow, controlled, but steady, relentless, until Kilmer was swallowing around him, hung between the cock in his mouth and the hand at the back of his head.
The rope holding his arms behind his back rasped over skin. In the near-silent room, the softest of shushing noises from his jeans accompanied his shift of weight to better take more of Tanner inside. The reminder that he wasn’t permitted to bare himself flushed heat up through his body, hardened his own cock once more. The pressure behind his zipper forced a moan out of him.
“Such pretty sounds,” Tanner crooned. He rocked his hips slightly, and Kilmer relaxed into the motion, taking what he could, sucking, licking, using his tongue. He knew how to make this good if he could manage not to lose himself in Tanner’s solid grip and presence long enough to get him off.
“You’re thinking too hard again. Just let go. I’m not going to drop you.”
And there went his breath again, caught between one heartbeat and the next, and no way for him to focus enough to get it back. Nothing he could do but feel his chest compress, tighten, close. In that instant before he tensed and had to jerk away, before the panic set in, Tanner’s hips stilled. His fingers tightened in Kilmer’s hair. He held on. Like he had promised.
The constriction eased and Kilmer closed his eyes. He could do this. He could trust.
“Good.” Tanner rolled his hips just enough that the slide of his dick against Kilmer’s lips was a gentle nudge back to the task. “You don’t need to do anything. Stop trying so hard and let me take what I want.”
It sounded simple. Kilmer kept his eyes closed and his mind focused on the scents and sounds around him. The soft crackle of the fire and smells of the burning wood and candle wax were soothing. Tanner’s warm hand on his shoulder and the rough one in his hair kept him focused. All he had to do was suck and swallow but otherwise be still.
Tanner increased the slide of his cock, the tightness of his grip in Kilmer’s hair. A pained gasp escaped, and the resulting tingle when Tanner loosened up, then the deep thrust of his cock released a softer, needier moan.
Kilmer’s cock twitched in his pants. It hurt trapped inside tight jeans. The ache sent tingles up his spine and made his balls ache. He wanted so badly to push the throbbing pulse of pain against something, make it sharper, force the niggling discomfort toward real pain, then beyond to pleasure. The ropes rubbed at his wrists, a sharp counterpoint to the dull pain at his groin.
Tanner thrust again, deep into his throat, and there was no room for noise this time. Kilmer barely managed not to choke. He couldn’t really breathe either. A shiver rolled through him, and he leaned forward a tiny bit, forcing himself farther onto Tanner’s cock, taking even more, the hard edge of panic hovering just at the back of his brain.
Tanner stilled, cock buried deep, fingers woven tightly into his hair, holding him there. A deep, heady moan drifted down over Kilmer, settling like a mantle over his shoulders, warming him and chasing away the gooseflesh.
He calmed. His mind drifted away from the panic and everything else but Tanner’s cock in him.
“Fucking. Hell.” Tanner dropped the words, rough as scoured stones, into Kilmer’s lap. He pulled back a short distance and thrust, hard and sharp. Repeated the motion over and over, giving Kilmer no room to move or resist. It was hard to take and drove stinging heat up behind Kilmer’s closed lids. “So. Fucking. Good.” Tanner yanked Kilmer hard to him, pushed as deep as he could go, and his entire body tensed and quivered.
