Syncopation by Anna Zabo

Author:Anna Zabo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-17T19:59:57+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Ray stared at Zavier. “Now?” God, he hoped so. He’d been high and low and strung out, then Zavier had kissed him and the world had fallen away. But then he’d had to tell Zavier his desires. It was almost too much.

Zavier nodded. “As I said.”

“What do I do?” Anything. All Ray wanted was for Zavier to touch him or give him an order or—fuck him. He needed to be fucked. Wanted that so badly. He didn’t want to think anymore.

“You do whatever I tell you to.”

“This is bullshit.” He turned, pushed aside the privacy curtain and marched into the main part of the bus. He understood the whole submission idea, didn’t need Zavier coddling him.

He heard Zavier grunt, then rise. “Do you want this?” No accusations, no anger. So typically Zavier.

“Yes!” He whirled around and found Zavier standing at the entrance to the lounge. “Yes—just—” He ran his hands through his hair. “Tell me what to do!”

Zavier returned to his seat on the couch in the lounge. From there, he uttered one word. “Strip.”

The order was smooth and gentle and exactly what Ray had wanted, yet he struggled against it. He needed what Zavier offered. Craved it. But both the high from one of their best performances and the low of Carl’s dismissive and cruel words swam through his blood. Every bit of his body tingled and tensed. He stood in the middle of the space, staring but not seeing the bunks in front of him. The palms of his hands hurt from where his nails dug into his flesh.

“Ray.” Zavier relaxed on the couch, arms outstretched on the couch back and his long legs open enough that Ray could kneel between them. God, he was so beautiful. “Stop.”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m trying.”

“You’re failing.” No malice, only simple fact.

He gritted his teeth. “What the hell do you want from me?”

A cock of the head and a raised eyebrow. “I’m not sure how ‘strip’ is in any way ambiguous.”

It wasn’t. Not at all. Ray unclenched his hands and forced himself to do what he so wanted to do: he toed off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. The AC of the bus cooled his overheated skin and he tossed the shirt onto his bunk. His hands shook, but he managed his belt, and the button and zipper on his jeans. Each move felt like fire and heaven.

He’d no idea why Zavier made him feel this way, made him want so much more than the friendship they’d finally managed. Control and surrender. He couldn’t stop thinking about Carl’s words. The energy of the crowd. Ray bit his lip and pushed both his jeans and underwear down. They pooled around his ankles and he kicked them out of the way, then removed his socks.

“That’s better.”

Zavier’s approval washed over him, etching into his bones and calming his nerves. Maybe if he did as told, his life might be better. Make more sense. At least for a little while.

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