Page 94 of Just Business
A nod. “I remember.”
From his résumé, of course. “Did pretty well, too. Got a raise and a promotion after the first year. By the second, I was well on my way to managing my own accounts.” Justin fingered the lip of his mug. “I was also involved in the Scene. Got into it in college.”
Eli finally took a sip of his coffee. “Boyfriend?”
“I was between boyfriends—but I had this friend Mitch. We blew off steam together and he noticed I tended to come a lot faster and harder when he held me down as he fucked me. Took me to my first party.” He couldn’t help the chuckle. “Blew my mind. And my load. Twice.”
Eli snorted. “Amateur.”
Justin curled his toes over the rung of the bar stool. “As you might expect, I threw myself into the Scene. Played with a lot of Doms. Watched others play.” He’d loved those days. Pleasure and pain on the weekends, laser focus during the week. If he’d have kept at it, he wouldn’t be living in a dank, mold infested apartment now. But what was done was done.
“I got invited to a different party by one of the Doms I played with—an exclusive party. Less college, more business. That’s where I met Francis. He was...” Justin shook his head. “So focused. Intense. Or so I thought at the time. Turns out, it was cruelty.” He met Eli’s gaze. “You’ve always treated me like a human.”
Behind those gray eyes Justin caught a glimpse of unrestrained anger. “You are.” Sharp, strong words.
He knew that now. “The play we did at the other parties just scratched an itch. First time Francis topped me, I flew for hours. I’d never experienced pain like that—or true subspace. I had to have more.”
Eli looked down at his mug and took a sip. For all the world, it looked like he was chewing on the words and swallowing them. Letting Justin tell his story—just as Justin had done for Eli last night.
Justin winced at the stab of guilt. “I went back. Over and over. Every time I could. Each time, I escaped into that oblivion and each time, it was harder and harder to break free of it. My work slipped. I became—distracted. What mattered was the next time I saw Francis. Felt his whip. Got fucked.”
“Addicted.”
That. Justin drew a finger around the lip of his coffee mug. “Yup.” His gut twisted. “Then I gave Francis my cell number and he started calling. Taking me to dinner. Buying me clothes. Electronics. Anything I wanted.” He took another gulp of coffee. “I liked that, the attention, but it was even more of a distraction. A month later, I had my first dressing-down at work. I was devastated, completely. Despite everything, I hadn’t seen it coming. I was soyoung.”
Again, Eli looked to be holding back his words.
“Yeah, I went straight to Francis.”
“I’m betting he didn’t mind at all.” Spoken like steel spikes.
Justin would have chuckled, had it not hurt.Why did it still hurt?“Long story short, two weeks later, I wasn’t working at ErazaTech anymore and I moved in with Francis. He had all my things put into storage. Said he’d provide for me.” His own memory was far more bitter than the coffee. “He did. In exchange for pain and sex. A new shirt cost a blow job. He took dinner out of my hide and my ass.”
Eli’s eyes were a bit too wide. “I didn’t... I wouldn’t...”
“I know.” Justin reached across the breakfast bar and pried one of Eli’s fingers off his coffee mug. “Believe me, I know that now.” He gave Eli’s shaking hand a gentle squeeze. “But with Francis... that’s how it was. I didn’t understand at the time. I thought he cared, that it was a game.”
He let Eli go. “Little by little, Francis took over my life. First it was what I wore. Then what I ate. Then when I got up, what I did, who I talked to, where I went... until he controlled every moment of my day. Every minute was for him alone. Most of the time, I was naked but for his collar. My world revolved around the pleasure he took and the pain he gave. Hell, he wouldn’t even let me read.” Justin ran a hand through his hair. “The worst thing was, for a while, I enjoyed it. It was different and extreme. But when I wanted it to stop, or wanted a breather, it... didn’t. He didn’t. No safeword. No way to leave. I... didn’t know what to do.”
“You wanted a dominant/submissive relationship. You ended up in a master/slave one.” Eli stood and paced to the other side of the kitchen. He placed his hands on the counter, back to Justin, but fury was written in the tightness of his stance. “It’s a good thing he doesn’t live here. I’d have his balls.”
“I wouldn’t want you to do anything.”
Eli dropped his head. “I know that.” He exhaled. “I’m going to make an omelet. Would you like some?”
That was an odd question. “Yes, but...”
“I need to do something about this.” Eli’s voice was quiet, but his arms shook. He raised his head. “I know Ican’t, but I need an outlet. Please let me make something for you.”
Eli had the same need for control that Francis had. But how Eli handled it? So very different. “Do I get a choice of fillings?”
“Of course.” All at once, Eli both relaxed and stood straighter. “Limited to what I have in the fridge.”
In the end, they both settled on sausage, onions, peppers, and some brie Eli found in the cheese drawer.
“Thank you,” Eli said. “I find cooking beats homicide any day.”
Justin laughed, but the lighthearted mood evaporated instantly. “I suspect you’re not going to like the rest of the story.”
