Page 6 of Justice For Me

“Get your fucking hands off me, you prick!” Justice snarled and tried to jerk his arm away from Malachi’s iron grip. “I’m hungry. You haven’t fed me all day. Old people may not have to eat, but I do. When are you going to let us eat? Is that in yourplansomewhere?”

Malachi let go but only because he was afraid he might not be able to fight the urge to break said arm…and that the lean muscles underneath his fingers started sending smoke signals to his cock. He jerked away like he’d been burned, but Justice didn’t pay him the least bit of attention. Par to what he’d learned about Justice, the kid remained firmly focused on what he wanted, blocking the remainder of the world out.

“Yes. I plan to grab some fast food, using the drive thru, so we don’t lose any more time. We are already behind schedule.” Fuck, but he did sound old.

“What if I don’t like fast food?”

At least he was finally walking in the direction of the exit again. “I don’t care if you like fast food or not. That’s what you’re getting today.” See, he was just fucking himself right up the ass…he didn’t like fast food either.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yep.”

Two hours later, they pulled the rented Hummer into the driveway at Dante’s lake house. He had hoped it would be more secluded but supposed he’d have to accept that they had neighbors. Hopefully they were all old retirees that wouldn’t be flirt victims for Justice. “Home sweet home.” He said as he climbed out and stretched his cramped legs. The twenty-one year old bounced out like a puppy that had been trapped in a cage for three days.

He fucking hated this kid. How would he look in a cage? Or with a collar? Shit, he had to get his head on straight.

“Grab my bags old man,” Justice called out as he started toward the front door. Malachi was in front of him in a hot second, blocking his path and daring him to try to walk around him. Violet eyes glittered a warning.

“Number one, I’m not that much fucking older than you,” he hissed. “Number two, get your own fucking bags! I may be your babysitter for the next month but I am definitely not your personal slave.”

Justice smiled a huge smile that lit up his whole face and made his damned blue eyes even bluer. Malachi felt his temper soar even higher.

“I was totally kidding with you, dude. You need to lighten up.” He turned and headed back to grab his bags. “Getting your ass in such a sling can’t be safe for somebody your age. Heart attack candidate if I’ve ever met one.”

Three days later, Malachi was beating the living shit out of the punching bag in the basement. Even his talks with Megan couldn’t soothe his frustrations or unearthly desire to literally beat Justice until he stopped twitching. Everything the kid did rubbed him the wrong way, provoking him to…to do something. His fist slammed into the bag again and again. He was furious and he wanted to fly home and fuck the woman he loved until everything else was forgotten.

“Fuck! Fuck!” he yelled as he continued punching. Sweat poured off his body and dripped onto the floor. He’d been going at it for over three hours, but he still didn’t trust himself to go back upstairs and deal with the brat. He knew his body, knew what he was capable of…so he knew he needed to work off some of his emotions before something really bad happened.

After another hour of intense physical labor, Malachi thought he finally might be ready to call it a night. While he was in the tiny shower in the basement, he decided to top off his workout with a quick hand job. As he took his cock in his hand, stroking the sensitive flesh up and down, he pictured Megan kneeling at his feet and begging to suck his cock. Her pretty pink lips would wrap around his engorged head as she slid his entire length into her mouth and down her throat. Her tongue swirled and danced along his length just the way she knew he liked. Her eyes, always dancing with mischief and love, would be looking up at him while her head would bob up and down, taking him fast and deep. Her hands would tug on his balls with the right amount of pressure. He could see his hands tangled up in her inky black hair, holding her head tightly as she continued to work him in her mouth. Within minutes, he shot his load of come against the tile of the shower and watched as it slid down the walls and into the drain. Fuck, but he missed his woman.

Hell, he missed a lot of things. He missed having a submissive at his feet, waiting for him to take their bodies to the dark edges of pain before finally giving them release. He missed taking a flogger, whip, or his bare hand to a throbbing red ass as it danced beautifully beneath his skills. He would have them tied up, spread wide, exposed, and vulnerable to take whatever he wanted to give them. If he wanted to fuck them in the pussy while working their ass with a huge dildo, they would take it and thank him for it afterwards. If he wanted to fuck a man’s tight ass until he wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for a week, they would take it…and take it. It was how he had lived his life…before Megan. Megan didn’t want to submit to him, she didn’t want to submit to anybody. She was as dominant as he was. Hell, she’d even askedhimto submit to her sexually.

Just for what could only be described as sheer torture to his already battered mind, he walked down the hall until he reached the last door, locked tightly and looking deceitfully innocent. His palm rested against the heavy wood as he tried to convince his feet to walk in the other direction. No need to punish his poor body and mind, it wasn’t going to happen for him…not anymore. Hell, he knew Megan was worth it, but it still hurt so damned bad.

He turned and walked away, choosing to ignore the fact that his cock had gotten hard just from touching the door, just from knowing Dante’s playroom was mere steps away. All those toys were in there, just begging him to come in and play.

Just thinking about his frustrations as he trudged up the staircase almost made him go back down and attack the punching bag for another four hours. His relationship with Megan had to work, they loved one another and belonged to each other. He didn’t have to have a submissive in his life…she was enough, more than enough.She had to be enough.

As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, his instincts told him something was wrong. He pushed aside his own personal worries and moved quickly through the house in search of his ward. Justice had declared he was going to bed with a ‘killer headache’ when he had headed down to take his frustrations out on the gym bag. He’d been so fucking thankful that he wouldn’t have to spend yet another evening trapped in the same room with a boy-man that seemed determined to push all his buttons that he hadn’t really questioned the headache story. He should have fucking known better. The fucker lived and breathed to make his existence miserable, that had to be the only reason for how annoying he was.

He knocked on the bedroom door and yelled for the kid. Nothing. Since he usually had on those annoying ear buds, he didn’t panic yet. When he tried to twist the doorknob, the door was locked…just as it was every single night when he checked on him. Still, something was twisting his gut into an uncomfortable knot. He dug out the key he had tucked in his pocket and thrust the door open. Just as he feared, the room was completely empty. The window was open and a gentle breeze caused the curtain to dance innocently to the night wind.

That spoiled, mother fucking son of a bitch had gone too far. He’d had enough.

Chapter 5

He’d found him, in fucking Knoxville, two hours later and by that time, he wasn’t even trying to control his anger, nor was he thinking straight. Apparently the sneaky bastard had hitched a ride from a perfect stranger all the way to the big city and had settled on a country western bar where he was enjoying two hot chicks trying to teach him some stupid dance to Rocky Top. He had literally bitten his tongue so hard that blood had filled his mouth as he had watched the ungrateful brat gyrate and dry hump against his latest conquests. To top it off, the kid had a fucking carefree smile on his face that made Malachi feel all kinds of mixed up emotions. Lips as full, sexy, and pouty as his didn’t belong on an arrogant twenty one year old heterosexual that chased everything in a skirt. Lips like his belonged on a woman or a pretty little bottom that knew his place…knew how to wrap them around a cock and work some magic.

After about ten minutes of torture, he’d watched about all he could handle. Without taking the time to stop and consider his actions, he pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, strode across the dance floor, and snapped the cuffs around his wrists before Justice even realized he’d been caught. The look of utter shock on the kid’s face brought Malachi his first smile in days.

“What the fuck, man?” Justice tried to jerk away, but Malachi held tightly. “Take these off me right now, you dirty old man perv!” He tried to twist and turn, making good use of all his lean muscles, but Malachi was stronger. Fuck, the kid didn’t have a clue how arousing it was to see him squirm and fight futilely against his restraints. Fucker didn’t look so clever now, did he?

“Is everything okay, Malachi?” one of the girls asked in a slurred speech that indicated she’d already had about three too many. Her orange painted nails were latched onto Justice’s upper arm like he was a buoy out in the ocean.

Malachi whipped his head around when she said his name, immediately on high alert if anybody knew who he was, but then realized she was talking to Justice…calling him Malachi. Malachi couldn’t fucking believe it, that brat had given them his name. Turning to the girls, he said, “He’s just fine, ladies. It’s past his bedtime is all. Let’s go, pretty boy.” He tugged on Justice’s handcuffed wrists, but the kid held firm.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Blue eyes dared him to try and make him.

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