NASH WOKE with a start in the silent darkness. He blinked his eyes several times until they adjusted. Something had woken him, but nothing in the room seemed to be out of place, and the only sound was the faint whir of the ceiling fan. He stretched, yawning hugely. Giving up on figuring out what had disturbed him, he rolled over and snuggled into the warmth of the mattress.
As he lay there, the fog of sleep burned off and his brain finally caught up. Coffee. The rich scent of it brewing was what had pulled him from slumber. His next thought settled on Joshua, and he smiled. Having someone serve him coffee in bed was way better than a programmable brewer. The only thing that could make this morning better would be if he’d woken with Joshua sleeping next to him. That would come in time.
Although Joshua had been polite, done everything asked of him, and seemed eager to please, Nash had the feeling that Joshua was simply going through the motions. The real Joshua hid behind the mask of the perfect little sub he was portraying. Nash had to bring Joshua back from the edge and secure him within a safe boundary, but before he could do that, the walls Joshua surrounded himself with would need to come down. It wouldn’t be easy, no way to plow into it so that it would crumble. This wall would have to be taken down painfully slowly, one brick at a time.
Nash scrubbed his hand over his face. Malcolm was right; this was to be an epic challenge. Not only did he have to help Joshua find safe limits, but he also had no fucking clue who he’d find behind the façade of the well-trained submissive.
The door squeaked, and a low light streamed in. Nash turned his head to find Joshua creeping through the door with a tray in hand. He sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Good morning, boy.”
“Good morning, Sir. I’m sorry if I woke you. I forgot to ask if I was to have your coffee next to your bed when you woke.”
“You didn’t wake me. You are right on time.” Nash turned on the bedside lamp and patted his lap. “You can set it right here.”
Joshua set the tray where Nash instructed, then went to his knees next to the bed, his eyes lowered respectfully.
The tray was covered with a linen napkin, part of a set Nash had received as a gift and too fancy to use every day. Besides a mug of hot coffee, there was also a small stainless steel carafe he assumed was filled with more coffee, a sugar bowl, creamer and a spoon. Nash couldn’t help but smile at how proper it all was, Joshua no doubt going all out to impress. Eventually, he’d learn a to-go mug filled to the brim with black coffee would suffice.
“This is quite the setup,” Nash complimented. He picked up his mug, took a tentative sip, and, finding it the right temperature as not to burn his tongue, took a larger drink.
“I hope I didn’t forget anything.”
“No, actually, it’s over-the-top.” Joshua’s shoulders slumped, and Nash quickly added, “I very much appreciate the time and effort you put into it, but it isn’t necessary. My large mug of black coffee is all I need to start my day. That and good company. How did you sleep?”
“The bed is very comfortable, Sir.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Oh, umm… right. I slept good or, um, well, Sir. I was a little nervous that the alarm wouldn’t go off, so I kept waking up. Once I learn to trust the clock, I’m sure I’ll sleep through the night. Like I said, it’s a very comfortable bed.”
“Did you have your own room at Troy’s?”
“No, I hadn’t earned one yet.”
Nash pursed his lips. “You were with him for at least a couple of months, were you not?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And in all that time you weren’t able to earn your own room? Oh wait, is it that Troy shared his room?”
“Yes. I slept on a pallet next to his bed.”
“What?” Nash didn’t even try to keep the outrage out of his voice. Who in the hell had their submissive sleep on the floor for two fucking months?
Joshua tilted his head slightly, and Nash got a glimpse of his eyes before he quickly lowered them. “You sound surprised. Troy isn’t the first Dom who has made me sleep on the floor next to his bed. At least he didn’t chain me to the bed by my collar.”
Nash didn’t miss the amusement in Joshua’s tone. What the fuck is wrong with me? The practice of a sub sleeping on the floor next to his master’s bed wasn’t that uncommon. Hell, he’d known one who preferred it. Whatever the strange connection he had to Joshua was scattering his goddamn brain because the thought of Joshua being chained to a bed or sleeping on the floor pissed him off. Which was completely illogical. Oh damn, he needed a sounding board.
Nash leaned over and petted Joshua’s head. “I simply don’t understand that practice. I’m a bit of a cuddle whore and like to wake up with a warm body wrapped around mine. One of your priorities is to earn that right. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Joshua responded, the amusement still in his tone.
“All right, then. You can take this tray to the kitchen and get breakfast started.” He wrapped his hands around his mug. “You may not, however, have this.”
“Anything in particular you want to eat, Sir?”
“Surprise me.”
Nash waited until Joshua removed the tray and exited the room. Only then did he roll his eyes at himself. He finished his cup of much-needed caffeine, took care of his morning business, and stopped by his office before heading to the kitchen. Sitting at his desk, he dialed the familiar number.
The phone rang several times, and Nash was about to hang up when Malcolm’s sleepy voice came through the line. “You better be dead or dying, calling me at this ungodly hour.”
“Good morning, sunshine,” Nash said in a chipper voice.
“Ugh! Good-bye.”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me. I need you.”
There was a slight pause, and then Nash heard Malcolm groan. “Do you need me so early in the morning?”
Nash leaned back in his chair. “You’re getting old, Malcolm. How many times in the past have you woken me at the ass crack of dawn?”
“This is not about me unless it’s about me going back to sleep.”
“Not a chance. I do believe it is your fault I have this early-rising habit.”
Nash had always been more of a night owl until he’d met Malcolm. Back then, Malcolm was of the belief if he didn’t rise till after eight, he’d wasted the day away. While Nash had been mentored by Malcolm, he’d gotten used to getting up early. After his contract with Malcolm expired, they had often chatted on the phone over their morning coffee since they’d remained such good friends.
“Yes, well, these subs nowadays have no concept of time, wanting to play until the sun comes up,” Malcolm drawled. “Anyway, please tell me what I can do to help you so I can go back to sleep.”
“I keep losing my focus with Joshua and I have no idea how to control my crazy thoughts. This morning I became outraged upon learning that, in the past, Joshua was chained and made to sleep on the floor. Joshua obviously thought I was fucking nuts—which apparently I am—because I swear I heard the laughter in his voice when he responded to my shock.” Nash reached for his goatee and, finding it no longer there, gritted his teeth and dropped his hand. “I know plenty of Doms who practice that—hell, I even know a few subs who prefer it—so what is wrong with me? What is it about this boy that has me so messed up?”
“I don’t know, seeing as I’ve never seen you react to another man like you do Joshua. Hmmm… perhaps this is a good argument for love at first sight.”
Nash was glad Malcolm couldn’t see the way he rolled his eyes. “I assure you I am not in love with Joshua.”
“Then the only other possibility is that you feel sorry for him, which, for his situation and his needs, is even worse.”
Dammit! Nash did feel sorry for Joshua. How could he not? His road map of scars outlined years of abuse and torture. He had no money, nowhere to live, and didn’t even own anything besides the clothes on his back. “You’re right.”
“I usually am,” Malcolm pointed out. “You’d better get that under control, and if you are unable to, my suggestion would be to look for someone who can take care of Joshua properly. Because Joshua doesn’t need your pity, he needs your help.”
“I know this.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Just because I know it, doesn’t mean I know how to control it. I want to do the right thing for Joshua, and I am not giving him up. So stop being grumpy and tell me what to do to get my focus back.”
“You know what to do,” Malcolm said curtly.
Nash growled.
“Ooh, I like it when you growl. It’s sexy as fuck.”
“Malcolm.”
“What? You are sexy as fuck when you growl, and you are also a good Dom. You’ve simply lost sight of that with the strong emotional attraction you have for the boy. If he is willing to set aside everything for you and your pleasure, then the very least you can do is reward him for that. For the time being, stop focusing on Joshua’s past and concentrate on his immediate needs. Keep it simple and take it one minute, one hour at a time. You’ll have plenty of time later, once trust is established, to work on the bigger issues.”
One minute at a time. It was easier said than done. Every time Nash got a glimpse of the sadness in Joshua’s eyes or Joshua slumped in despair or disappointment, Nash’s chest tightened a little. Each time he looked upon the scars, his heart hurt. As his shortcomings came to him, so did a plan, and even though he was no longer addressing his thoughts toward Malcolm, he said them aloud. “I need to stop focusing on Joshua’s scars. It serves me no purpose at this time to dwell on the past, only the present. Joshua will need to keep his eyes respectfully low. I can’t be a witness to his sadness or disappointment but need to focus on what he can do. One minute, one hour at a time.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Malcolm praised. “Call me and let me know how it works out. After the sun comes up.” The line went dead.
Nash set the phone back on its cradle. He pulled a pen and a pad of paper from the drawer of his desk and scribbled out a list of things to do, the first being: focus on what’s best for Joshua and not himself.
KNEELING AT Nash’s side, Joshua’s tension increased with each tick of the clock. Nash hadn’t said more than a few words during breakfast. Even with the frequent glances Joshua had stolen while they ate, he couldn’t get a read on Nash. His Dom’s expression was neutral, not giving off a single indication of what he was thinking or feeling.
Without warning, Nash went to his feet and waved a hand toward his empty plate. “Get this cleaned up and meet me in the safe room.”
Joshua nodded. “Certainly, Sir.”
“And Joshua?” Nash waited until Joshua met his gaze. There was a flash of desire in Nash’s eyes, but seconds later it was gone, leaving Joshua to wonder if he’d actually seen it. Nash’s tone cool when he added, “Do I have to remind you I don’t like to be kept waiting?”
“No, Sir. I remember. I will be quick.”
Joshua gathered up the dirty dishes, all the while feeling Nash’s eyes on him. He didn’t dare look back up, instead concentrating on getting busy with his chores. It wasn’t until he was standing at the sink, his back to Nash, that he heard the man’s footsteps fading as he moved down the hall.
Joshua stared into the sink as the water from the tap swirled the bubbles. He hoped it was desire he’d seen in Nash’s gaze because Joshua’s head was aching as were his balls. Don’t make me wait too long. Regardless of what he’d agreed to, Joshua was tempted to make Nash fucking wait. Perhaps if he got the man riled up enough, pissed him off a little, Nash would actually put some weight behind his swings. Or maybe he should make up some excuse for why he needed to go out. Prowl the streets and back alleys and find someone who got off on dishing out true pain.
He needed to find a brutal man who cared little for another’s suffering. He wanted to suffer. Wanted the bite of leather, torn skin, abuse to his flesh that would wash away the pain in his head. No Dom/sub rules, no restrictions. No societal pressure. No bullshit. Just pain and peace.
Joshua gripped the edges of the sink tightly, needing the support as his legs shook. He battled with two conflicting needs. Oh god, and how he needed to find some peace. Having spent the last two nights awake with nothing to focus on but his own thoughts, he needed relief. Needed to fucking soar and get lost in something besides his mind. Yet, to leave, to seek out easing of his physical and mental needs was to give up a place to sleep, clean clothes, food.
Fuck!