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"Mom would have taken a belt to me herself if she hadn't figured out worse punishments." The one and only time Chris had lied to her, his conscience had tormented him until he admitted it to her. She'd thanked him for telling her the truth, but she'd told him there was nothing he could ever do that would disappoint her more than him lying to her.
"It not only disrespects me, it tells me you don't trust me to care for you, to know what's best for you." A thousand belt stripes wouldn't have affected him the way that statement had. Nothing was worse than letting her down.
"Momma Bear is the best."
Chris smiled. Geoff had always called his mom that, ever since Geoff had been pulled over for speeding--ninety in a forty-five. Chris had been in the car with him. Geoff's dad had basically brushed it off as teenage hijinks and told Geoff he'd get a lawyer to reduce the charges so he could keep his license. The next day, when Geoff came over to Chris's house, he'd faced something entirely different. Chris had been on the sidelines, wide-eyed, while his mom had torn Geoff a new one. He'd tried to deflect her, give Geoff a break, and she was having none of it.
"See him?" His mother had pointed at Chris while a teenage Geoff stood there white-faced. "That is your very best friend in the whole world. Your brother, in every way that matters. My son. The center of my world. I don't care what kind of I'm immortal, riding on hormones bullshit anyone else uses to excuse a teenager acting like this, it doesn't fly with me. I know your heart, Geoff Tywin. You are smarter and better than this. You will take care of him and yourself, because if I ever lose either one of you to some act of teenage stupidity, I will dig up your bodies and kick the shit out of them in front of God and the whole world. I promise you that. And should you live through that act of stupidity and my son dies, you will wish you'd died and gone to hell rather than having to face me."
Chris could tell Geoff was recalling that same memory, because . . . well, he could usually just follow Geoff's mind the way Geoff could follow his. Maybe that was why he was suddenly uncomfortable again as Geoff rose off of the stool. Reaching out, he slipped the tongue of Chris's belt free and slowly stripped it out of his jeans. He doubled it over, threading the strap between his clasped hands. Then he pinned Chris with a steady, unflinching gaze.
Chris took a step back. Not in retreat, but to establish a perimeter, figure out what was going on. Geoff inclined his head.
"I thought about doing this last night, but here is even better. I want to strap your ass with this, and then I want to be inside you."
The thought should have set off a Forget this shit explosion in him. Instead Chris felt that curious stillness of breath and heart, his hands curling at his sides, his cock suddenly constricted by his fly. He imagined Geoff, his hard hand gripping Chris's shoulder as he held him, as that strap stung and struck.
"Okay." The word echoed in the silent garage. Chris pressed his lips together. "But I want something, too. Tonight, you let me inside of you. I want to make my one-man club membership official."
Geoff lifted a brow. "You're determined to keep this on an even footing."
"Yeah. We covered this last night. I'm not Sam. If you want me to be a male version of her, I can't do that." Never mind that he couldn't take his gaze off that belt. "I don't know where that leaves us."
"Right where we're at." Geoff inclined his head. "You have a deal. Drop your pants to your knees, boy, and bend over the bench. Take a good, hard grip on it."
Chris's forced half chuckle was an attempt to lighten things up, but Geoff didn't smile. He just kept threading the doubled-over belt through his fingers, his gaze fixed on Chris, waiting.
"If I don't?" Chris taunted, though his hand was on the fastener of his jeans and Geoff's attention had flicked to the arousal swelling behind his fly. He could tell himself his reaction was because the belt thing was just a precursor to Geoff and him fucking, but Chris couldn't seem to get the images in his mind past that belt and Geoff's dangerous expression.
"Then I'll make you do it. And the punishment will be worse."
He could scoff at the idea of Geoff making him do anything, but he didn't. Chris slipped the button of the jeans, slid his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers and pushed both off his tense ass, taking the clothes to his knees as instructed. If Geoff weren't acting so serious, if he'd treated it like a game, Chris might have felt foolish and backed away from this. Yet nothing about how Geoff's gaze slid over him, a possessive caress, suggested a game.
Not sure what to say, or how to quantify what he was feeling, Chris turned toward the bench and closed his hands on the top edge, pressing his palms into the cushioning where Sam's body would be resting, bound. He wasn't on the bench himself, just leaning over it, which made him feel less out of control, though he suspected that was self-deception. His cock was a pulsing, taut rod between his thighs.
Geoff moved in, the silence a palpable weight between them. The radio was still on, but it was as distant as a conversation happening in China. Chris tensed as Geoff's palm slid down Chris's back then up, finding his way under his shirt to trail along his spine. His palm flattened, exerting pressure, pushing Chris over
until his hands spread out wider, his chest touching the bench.
"Better," Geoff murmured. "Spread your legs. Shoulder width."
When Geoff used the position to reach between his legs and take a firm grip on his balls, Chris's cock sprang up higher. Geoff leaned over, nudging his hair to the side with his chin, and Chris closed his eyes as the man's lips found his nape.
"That was a pretty ballsy move, coming into my room last night to suck me off when I was on the phone. I'm okay with that, just as long as you're okay with me taking my due for the presumption."
"Didn't hear you complaining at the time," Chris muttered.
Whap!
Chris bit his lip as the belt slapped across his haunches, a lick of fire. Pivoting in a blink, he clamped his hand on Geoff's wrist. He and Geoff held that toe-to-toe position, though Chris was keenly aware his pants were at his knees and his dick out there, all vulnerable and hard. His heart was racing. Geoff zeroed right in on it, putting his palm flat against his chest, leaving the other wrist in Chris's tight hold, the belt dangling over Chris's forearm.
"You can't decide whether you want it or hate it. How about you take a second and work that out?" Geoff's voice was neutral, but his eyes were laser sharp.
A long pause. Then Chris let go of his wrist, one finger at a time. Geoff lifted a questioning brow. Waiting.
Chris turned around and took hold of the bench again. The fire was settling in, a coiled serpent in his belly that said he wanted more. He wanted more than more. He wanted Geoff's ferocity, needed it like a hunger for red meat and a woman's touch. "That the best you got?" he ground out.
Geoff's chuckle was nasty enough to spear need right into Chris's balls. "Just keep talking back. Chest down and keep your ass up. When I'm done, you can answer that question for yourself."
