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“Narc,” Jackson muttered. But he lifted his face for a kiss, so Michael forgave him. And kissed him.
“What’s going on?” Finn asked, returning to the living room.
Michael drew back from the kiss. “Bubbie bad!” He pointed to Jackson’s wrists.
Daddy frowned as he strode forward. He was carrying the two cloth bags that Michael kept in his chest that held his toys. Michael grabbed his bags before hurrying over to the coffee table. He had an idea!
“You can tear up your wrists and I’ll doctor them up, but there is only one way to get out of those. You know the word,” Finn said quietly.
Michael listened to see how Jackson would reply.
“I’m not using my safe word,” Jackson said hotly. “But I can’t not try.”
“You can try all you want,” Daddy said. “That chair was built by one of the best leather artists in the community. You’re not getting out of those cuffs until I let you out.”
Jackson grunted.
Michael didn’t think bubbie was ready to behave yet.
Chapter Ten
Jackson
He had to give Finn credit. They called Finn a Master for a reason and Jackson was stubborn enough to keep up his attitude, but he was fading fast. It was no fun being tied up as Jackson had watched Michael play all day while Finn puttered around the cabin before sitting to read a book.
The worst part was after lunch when Jackson had almost convinced Michael to release him that Finn fulfilled his threat of gagging him.
Michael still spent the afternoon talking to him, but Jackson couldn’t talk back! And when Michael fell asleep and took a nap with his head in Finn’s lap, Finn had sat there reading and running his hands through Michael’s hair.
This was so unfair.
Jackson’s fingers trembled where he held the bell that Finn had handed him. All he had to do was shake the bell and this would be over. He couldn’t do it though. Even suffering with Finn feeding him his lunch, because Jackson couldn’t use his hands, Jackson had remained strong. Finn was keeping his word and that meant more to Jackson than he would have ever suspected. He was not submissive. He was not a boy. But being unable to talk, Jackson was alone with his thoughts and the what ifs.
What if he did submit to Finn? What if he gave in and let someone take care of him? Would Jackson be able to handle it? How good would it be to put his trust in someone else?
“Here you go, little bit.” Finn set a bowl and plate on the coffee table in front of Michael.
Michael had been watching a cartoon as he waited for dinner.
Seeing Michael completely immersed in his little persona was interesting. Jackson had only seen Michael regress for short periods of time. Out there in the middle of nowhere, Michael was lost in his play and it warmed Jackson’s heart. Finn had done that for Michael, but what would he do for Jackson?
Finn returned with the same chair he’d sat in earlier. He set it in front of Jackson before going back for another plate and bowl. Finn set both on the edge of a table beside the couch before reaching for the gag.
As soon as the torture device, and that was exactly what that was, Fucking Finn, Jackson stretched out his mouth.
Finn’s fingers rubbed around Jackson’s mouth and jaw, and he wanted to pull away, but it felt too good. He put up with the touching because he wanted to. That was all.
“I never imagined what a quiet afternoon would be like with you gagged,” Finn said. “I’ll have to keep that in my arsenal.”
Jackson glared.
“Don’t you agree with how nice it was, boy?” Finn tapped Jackson’s bottom lip.
He wasn’t going to… Jackson would not…. “It fucking sucked and you know it!” Oh fuck! That was not what he’d meant to say. Was it? Why did he always push Finn’s buttons? He knew why. He wasn’t looking for an answer to that question.
“Shame.” This time Finn pinched Jackson’s lip hard. “You had been doing so well.”
He turned and reached for the plate and Jackson couldn’t help but admire Finn’s strong forearms. Finn was in good shape. Maybe Jackson wouldn’t be able to get away after all. That would be perfect since Jackson didn’t want to get away, but he was fighting his instincts.
