Miles High, page 10
part #4 of Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Series
“When we get home,” Tempus said, “I will ask you once and once only about the mark on your cheek. If you lie to me, I’ll break my promise to you and hurt you.”
His type of torture was even worse than what Hook had done to me. He used mind games and toyed with my emotions.
To be tortured or to be killed? It was a no-brainer, which I would choose.
Despite all the money he had, Tempus lived in a simple two-story house fortified by a state-of-the-art security system. He also had a guard dog, a bullmastiff, he hadn’t even named because he didn’t want the animal to feel like a pet. Or so he had told me. On the rare days he insisted that I stay at his home and I was trapped within the four walls like Rapunzel in the tower, I’d play with her. Tempus didn’t know, since I always waited until he was out of the house.
When we pulled into the driveway, Hope—yeah, I’d given her a name—came running, barking, which turned into a friendly whine when I got out of the car.
“Heel,” Tempus called to the dog, and Hope sat, staring longingly at me, her tail wagging. When Tempus took my arm and prodded me forward, my heart ached at the whimper Hope let out.
“Have you been playing with the dog despite me telling you not to?” Tempus opened the front door and let me in ahead of him.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. With him, lies were worse than the truth.
“You keep playing with that dog, Miles, and I’ll take it to the pound.”
My stomach dropped. “I’ll stop. I promise.”
“Good. Now go on up to my room, get dressed, then pour me a drink and meet me on the patio out back. I need to make some calls and find out where our proceeds from the fight have gone. Fucking cops ruined the main event.”
“Yes, sir.”
I lowered my head and made my way up the stairs to his bedroom. This was familiar too. On his bed, I found a two-piece French maid outfit. This one was brand new, the set complete with a pair of stockings and heels he’d broken me into wearing. I shut down my mind, the part of me that protested wearing anything so revealing for a man I despised. I saw myself wearing it for Rubble, but parading in front of Tempus and his men dressed like this was debasing.
When I was dressed, I carefully made my way down the stairs to the wet bar and made Tempus’s drink the way he liked it. The image of Jamie wearing his dress and heels today and being so proud of it left me with an achy heart. He was so lucky to wear what he did with pride. I knew nothing but shame when I was forced to wear something I might have otherwise considered beautiful and sexy.
With the drink in hand, I trudged to the patio, where I found Tempus, exactly where he said he would be. He wasn’t alone, though. Hook and Rourke were with him, and one of his bodyguards lurked in the corner. My steps faltered at the sight of the knife on the table. With shaking legs and a trembling hand, I placed the glass in front of Tempus.
“Thank you, servant.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I need a footrest.” Of course, he did. This was the worst part of what he did to me: making me into human furniture.
I went down on all fours, aware that the ruffled hem of the short skirt meant my bare bottom was on display. Tempus didn’t like me wearing underwear, even though he never touched me. He loved to look.
I swallowed my grunt as he rested both his feet onto my back. They were heavy, but I was getting used to this by now. Ignoring me completely, the three men chatted about the fight that night. Apparently, they still had made quite a profit, despite the police raiding the venue and ending the event early. They had sold a large number of tickets and added to that the bets placed on Skull Crusher, and they’d raked in tons of money.
The night wore on, the men drank and laughed, and my back ached.
“How did my slave get that discolored cheek? Do you know, Hook?” Tempus asked.
I stiffened beneath Tempus, everything inside me going on alert.
“You were right about him getting too close to the bikers again,” Hook said. “We caught him kissing the one who owns the tattoo shop. I’m sorry, boss. I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but I was so pissed that he would do that to you after all you’ve done for him and his father.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” Tempus asked.
“Yes, sir.”
The weight on my back lifted as Tempus’s feet hit the ground. “Stand up.”
I struggled to my feet, fighting the urge to rub my back. “I want to hear it from you now, Miles. What happened?”
“I—”
“You have one chance to tell me the truth.”
My heart beating hard in my chest, I stared down at the rough stones of the patio. “No, it’s not.”
“He’s a fucking liar.”
I jumped at Hook’s vehement interruption.
“You got your turn, Hook. I’ll ask you to speak when I want to hear what you have to say.” Tempus brushed his hand over the handle of the knife, and I wrapped my arms around my body. “Now, go on, slave. I want to know in as many details as possible what happened.”
“H-he forced m-me.”
“He fucked you?” Tempus jumped to his feet, nostrils flaring.
“No, he forced me to suck him off.” I blew out a hard breath, gasping as I recalled his penis shoving down my throat, the ache in my jaw from how rough he was. “He came into my mouth and wanted me to swallow, but I spat it out on him, so he hit me.”
Silence fell around us, and I didn’t dare to look at anyone. Why would Tempus believe me?
“Rourke, is this true?” Tempus asked.
I knew he wouldn’t believe me. Now when we were alone, Hook would think he could get away with whatever he'd do to me.
“Yes, it is,” Rourke replied. What? I jerked my head up. He’d told the truth? Who was this man?
“And you didn't participate?”
“No, sir. I didn’t.”
Tempus glanced at me, and I shook my head.
“In my field of business,” Tempus said, “honesty is valued over everything. There’s no place in my kingdom without honesty.”
“I’m sorry, boss,” Hook said. “I-I wanted to teach him a lesson. He did kiss that biker.”
Tempus drove the back of his hand across Hook’s face, his ring cutting a long mark across his cheek. “I gave you no such order.” Tempus pushed the knife to the end of the table. “Drop your jeans.”
Hook’s mouth fell open, blood seeping from the wound. His eyes darted to the knife.
“Please, boss.”
“Take your pants off, or I’ll get help to do it for you.”
Hook’s hands shook as he peeled down his pants and left them hanging around his ankles.
“I can’t let things like these go unpunished. I’ve been grooming this slave since he was a teen. And you want to reward yourself with the fruits of my labor?”
“I’m sorry, boss. It won’t happen again.”
“Take the knife and cut off one of your balls.”
Covering his dick with his hand, Hook stumbled back, almost falling in the tangle of his pants. “Please.”
“It’s just one nut, man. Get on with it, or I’ll cut off your whole dick. Which will it be?”
“I can’t. I’ve been working for you for five years. You can’t do this to me.”
“All right then, the whole cock it is.”
I stared at Hook, my mouth falling open. Surely Tempus didn’t mean what he said.
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”
Hook took up the knife, staring at the blade.
“I’d suggest you tug the nut, then make one chop,” Tempus said casually as if he was talking about cutting meat. “The last thing you want is to use a sawing motion.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Hook. He couldn’t do it. Not something so barbaric. Sure, I’d like to see him go to prison for what he’d done to me but—
A scream rented the ear, and blood gushed onto the patio.
I threw up my guts.
Chapter 12
Rubble
I’d been prepared for Grimm’s scowl when he opened the front door. What I hadn’t counted on was his naked hairy chest marred with love bites and his low-hanging, undone jeans, giving me a peek of his pubic hair.
Fuck. I’d disturbed the man while he was getting it on.
“The clubhouse better be on fire,” he growled.
I scratched the back of my neck and took a step back. Out of reach. His smoldering eyes weren’t that encouraging.
“Is this a bad time?”
“Course it’s a bad time.” He heaved a sigh. “What is it? Something wrong with a drop?”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak to Jamie. I saw his car was here, so he might not be at the hospital today.”
“He’s not, but he’s busy. Is it a life-or-death situation?”
It really wasn’t, except it felt like it. I’d spend the past week thinking about Miles and trying to figure out what I needed to do to win a guy like that. The answer I’d come up with would require a second opinion. Usually, I’d talk to Cass, but since he was still on his honeymoon with Mort, I had no one else to turn to. Fable didn’t talk much at the best of times, so I doubted he could give me advice on this particular subject.
Grimm’s boy, on the other hand, had a mouth on him that wouldn’t let him mince words. I needed that.
“Well?”
“Sort of.”
Grimm’s scowl deepened, but he let go of the door. “You can wait in the living room. He's helping me out with…something anatomically related.”
I stifled my laughter and tried not to let my gaze drop to Grimm’s crotch. I was pretty sure what part of his anatomy Jamie was helping him out with. Or maybe I didn't know at all. There’d been rumors about Grimm being the bottom in their relationship. I wasn’t buying it. A man like Grimm didn’t just roll over and get down for anyone.
But then again, his relationship with Jamie was legendary. And the boy did have him hooked.
“He’ll be down soon enough.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how soon, but I wasn’t going to push it, so I made my way to the living room while he stormed up the stairs, back to his lover. I’d been inside the Great House before but not since Jamie had moved in. Grimm only allowed Booker into his space he reserved for his boy, so I was surprised he let me stay.
Even if I could do without the loud moans that drifted downstairs. They weren’t just the boy’s either. I sprang a chubby at the guttural sounds. While I didn’t care much about who I slept with, I’d always leaned more toward male-presenting people, and I hadn't had sex in a few months. Not since I’d met Miles. I groaned and pushed down on my cock to relieve some of the pressure.
It wasn’t Grimm and Jamie getting it on upstairs that swelled my erection, though. It was Miles and the way he’d rested his head on my chest while we danced. The way he’d grabbed me by the head and slammed his mouth on mine in a kiss that had left me without a doubt that he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Minutes ticked by until footsteps climbed down the stairs. By then, my chubby was gone, having disappeared under my frustration of what to do about Miles.
Jamie breezed into the living room, his hair still damp from the shower he must have taken after fucking. My gaze ran over his slight frame. Did Grimm have to be gentle with him in bed? I supposed I should be gentle with Miles too, given his similar stature, but I couldn't deny there were nights when all I could think of was how desperately I needed to have him bouncing his ass on my cock.
And thoughts like that made me feel I needed help with being less… uncivilized and more acceptable for a gentle boy like Miles.
“This is a surprise,” Jamie said, dropping down into the armchair across from the sofa.
“Cass isn’t here,” I said.
He frowned. “You’re not still messing around with Cass, are you?”
I scowled at him, then sent him a smile. I needed his help, not to get into an argument with him. He just made it so damn difficult at times. He could be infuriating and provoking.
Good god, how did Grimm manage to deal with him? But I was looking at the very reason. The boy was appealing.
“Cass and I are just friends. I talk to him about some stuff. Relationship stuff. I don’t know too much about that.”
His face split into a grin. “So Cass was right. You are into Miles.”
I groaned. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know now?”
“Well, you should know that Cass is a bit of a blabbermouth. He can’t keep a secret. Plus, I heard you were completely smitten with Miles when he crashed into the clubhouse.”
“I’m not smitten.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Has Cass said anything to Miles?”
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. What can I do to help? We really want another boy in our biker boys club.”
“I thought Grimm said you weren’t doing that.”
“Yeah, well, Grimm’s in a pretty good mood right now. I’m sure I can get him to agree to most things.” He winked at me with a cocky grin, and I couldn’t help chuckling. Maybe I’d misjudged him, and he was more like the rest of us bikers than I’d thought. He was certainly different from the other two boys. Tougher. More decisive.
Not my type, but he was just perfect for Grimm.
“I’m pretty sure that Miles is into me too,” I said.
“Yeah, I saw the way he danced with you. He definitely is.”
“But there’s something or someone that’s holding him back.”
“Wait, what? He’s already in a relationship with someone?” Jamie leaned forward in his chair. “I didn’t know that. Should you be interfering?”
“Well, he doesn’t seem happy, so yeah, I’m going to interfere unless I find out differently.” And maybe even then, I didn’t care. Miles wanted me back. Every single decision I was making was based on that fact.
“What exactly do you want me to help with?”
“Miles is a lot different from me.” I forced the words out, even though it took a lot to admit them. “He’s educated. I didn’t even graduate high school. If I didn’t have my skills for designing and inking, I’d have been fucked. I say the wrong shit around him all the time. I’m trying to be more sensitive, but I’m not a sensitive guy. Still, if I can cut out some of the swearing around him, it can’t hurt, right?”
“You think using one less 'fuck' will win him over?”
I shrugged. “At this point, I don’t know, but I’m willing to try anything.”
“You must like him an awful lot.”
Finally, he was getting the picture. I’d made fun of the men in the club who fell in love easier than a mac ‘n’ cheese recipe, but here I was trying to get the attention of a boy who had already made it clear that he couldn’t be with me. Now I understood why these men had gone through hell and back for their boys.
“Just help a guy out,” I pleaded. “Maybe we can start with something easy.”
“Like grooming.”
“What’s wrong with my grooming?”
“Well, I know you have to wear your cut all the time, but maybe when you visit him, you could wear a nicer shirt underneath. Something other than a T-shirt that has seen better days.”
My face flamed. “I only have T-shirts.”
“Then I guess we’re going shopping. And while we’re at it, we can buy you some better jeans. Something a little bit more fitting. We boys like looking at your booties too, you know. So, flaunt it.”
Grimm chose that moment to enter the living room. He looked far less uptight than he’d been when he’d opened the door earlier.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“I’m taking Rubble for a makeover.”
Grimm barked out a laugh, and I glared at Jamie. “For fuck’s sake, don’t call it that.”
“That’s minus one f-bomb that you have left in you for the day,” he said, then turned to Grimm. “Well, don’t laugh. As long as we’re giving Rubble a makeover, you might as well come along. You could do with a little grooming too.”
Grimm’s smile was wiped off by a scowl. “You didn’t have a problem with my grooming ten minutes ago.”
“Don’t make it sound like a nasty word. Grooming’s for everyone. I promise you’ll feel fabulous afterward.”
“I never said anything about being fabulous.” I rose to my feet. “Er, I think I might have made a mistake.”
“Sit down, Rubble.”
I sat.
Why the hell did I sit? This boy couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and twenty pounds wet, yet I took my seat like I’d pledged my loyalty to him instead of to the club, which technically, he wasn’t even a part of. He’d probably give me an earful if I ever said that to him, which in all fairness, didn’t do him enough justice. He was always there to patch us up when we ended up hurt.
“I’m going to call Fable to get Zak and Booker and meet us at Bevy’s.”
What the fuck was a bevy? I frowned at Grimm, who shrugged, then mouthed it was all my fault and he was going to slit my throat. Of course, he wouldn’t. I couldn’t imagine Grimm going to a beauty salon either, which it turned out Bevy was.
Grimm made us all promise to keep this between us and that none of the club members would hear about the day we lost a bit of our manhood and let the boys take control. I was glad I wasn’t in this alone. Booker didn’t look happy about it either when we met up in front of Bevy’s, but Zak, his partner and former member of our club, said he was ready to get a Brazilian wax.
“He’s kidding, right?” I asked Booker as we slowly walked into the salon behind the boys.
“He’s definitely not.”
Zak must have overheard us, as he swung back to us. “Go ahead, Booker. Tell him how good it is to bareback a nicely waxed—”
“For fuck’s sakes, Zak, private info.” Jamie and Fable laughed, clearly enjoying this the most. It turned out that Jamie was quite familiar with the place, and after one ring from him, they’d reserved spots for us. Whether they didn’t have that many clients, to begin with, or the Reaper name had influenced them, I didn’t know, but the shop was empty. That made me feel marginally better. It’d have been awkward as hell sitting across from civilians, wearing our cuts while a girl tended to our feet and declared them in awful shape.
