Opening Up by R. J. Moray

Author:R. J. Moray [Moray, R. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“Channon,” Jack said, but Channon couldn’t let him finish.

“I said, ‘Red.’”

Jack held up his hands. “I heard you. I’ve stopped. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You can’t just…” Channon clenched his teeth, hating how it felt to talk to Jack like this, hating the way his muscles wanted to fold him up at Jack’s feet. “I’m not your slave.”

Now Jack looked like Channon had slapped him. The shock and horror in his face was too much to bear, so Channon squeezed his eyes shut and tried to find the words to tell Jack everything.

“If I was, if that was our thing, then I’d let you do it. I wouldn’t have any other choice because I’d have given you that, the power to take all my choices away. But I’m not a slave. I’m not furniture, not all the time. I’m your boy, and I love you, and you like it when I do things for you. Serving you and, and caring about you. So, you don’t get to take that away now, just because you’re…you’re bored.” He took a deep breath, opening his eyes and forcing himself to look Jack in the face. “I don’t care if you get mad at me, or you punish me later, but right now I’m trying to take care of you because you won’t. And you won’t listen to anyone, so there’s no one else to do it.”

Jack stared at him, his expression strange. In this light he looked well, tall and strong and broad shouldered, the man who could hold Channon up against a wall and fuck him senseless or pin him down and take him so hard he cried. His Sir. Dominant and powerful and not to be baited or ignored.

It took everything Channon had not to bow his head and kneel at Jack’s feet, to kiss them and beg for forgiveness. But he couldn’t. He had to stand his ground. If he caved now, he’d never get the chance again, and Jack—

“I’m fine,” Jack said, and Channon felt it like a punch in the gut.

“You’re not!” he burst out, clenching his hands into fists that shook and shook. “You could have died! You keep getting headaches and, and dizzy spells, and you don’t tell me the truth about any of it, you just say you’re fine. I’m not stupid,” he said, and that seemed to touch a nerve because Jack surged forward, his hands coming up to wrap around Channon’s shoulders.

“No, you’re not stupid,” he said, his voice wrenched in something like grief. “Channon, I’m sorry.”

“I just want to help,” Channon told him, feeling his throat close on the misery building in his chest. “Let me help. Don’t lie to me.”

The sound Jack made went straight to Channon’s heart, this pained groan like Channon had hurt him. Then Jack was pulling him in, tucking Channon against his chest and holding him there. Channon clung to him, all his words drying up, his throat full of something horrifying and nameless.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Jack said, stroking Channon’s scalp with his strong, possessive fingers.

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