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And yet, during their scene, Max had warmed up considerably. Speaking freely. Joking. Teasing. Sometimes smiling. Even laughing. Such a drastic shift from his usual behavior. And Sean had eaten up every single second of it.
Too bad it hadn’t lasted longer. As soon as their session on the couch wrapped up, Max reverted back to his normal moody self. He’d walked Sean to the door in chilly silence. Then shut the thing the second Sean stepped out. Again with the rude. But Sean refused to take it personally. Because oddly enough, it hadn’t felt personal. Just Max in true form, doing that thing that he did. Definitely had hot-and-cold down to a science. But still, it made Sean curious. About Max, absolutely. But also about BDSM in general. Was it something about the Dominant psyche that flipped Max’s switch? A mental shift when one changed into leather? Like donning a different personality or something? Or was it maybe in the act of domming itself. Would Max always warm up like that during scenes?
God, Sean hoped so. He really fucking did. Because now that he’d gotten that fleeting taste, he craved another taste more than ever. His heart sped up, just thinking about it. How he couldn’t fucking wait for their next appointment. To do it all over again, dive back into the fray, with whatever kind of crazy Max had planned. Riding another adrenaline rush, rocketing back into space, then diving into Max’s ooey-gooey warmth. The ultimate ride with the ultimate driver.
Sean shifted against the bar, bumping his ass into a stool. He winced, then smiled. Day three and still sore. Not that he’d expected anything less. Max had tanned his hide good, and Sean had fucking loved it. Which wasn’t to say that the shit didn’t hurt. Because it had. Even with Max going easy. It’d just felt so inexplicably profound. As if every time that flogger made contact, it was really Max touching him. Intimately. Like passionate, fiery foreplay. Each connect laid down with such erotic precision. Every hit like rough sex with Max’s mind. It’d been the most incredible, and unexpected, mental turn on. Which somehow stole the thunder from the pain.
Of course, later on, when the endorphins faded, it felt like his ass was on fire. He’d had to sleep all night on his stomach, then take tons of pain meds before class. Sitting for hours still hadn’t been fun, but never once did he regret their session. In fact, a part of him liked the pain. After all, it made him think about Max. And all the shit they’d engaged in together. All the things Max had done to Sean’s body.
And not just the painful stuff. Those rewards he gave had been fucking incredible. Sean had never been played with like that before. Teased in places he hadn’t been touched since Rick, shoving him out of his comfort zones. It’d been nerve-racking at first, but as Max jerked him simultaneously, it soon became easier to deal with. And then, holy fuck, when Max brought him to the brink, but didn’t allow him to come? Unbelievably exhilarating. He’d had no fucking clue that kind of shit pushed his buttons. But man, what a rush, having to hold back his release. Talk about a challenge. One he looked forward to mastering. Because he definitely wasn’t that great at it yet.
He’d get better, though. He was sure of it. Practice made perfect. And next Tuesday he’d be getting another shot. Fuck. He couldn’t wait. For Max to work him like that again. Wrenching him to the precipice of nearly shattering, then finally letting him detonate for real.
Sean shivered at the memory for the hundredth time.
Abruptly, his back pocket vibrated. He smiled through another wince and pulled out his cell, turning his back to his customers. A message from Jonah. He opened it up. Then coughed out a laugh. Evidently, Jonah was at a clothing store, making another go at buying a shirt. At least, that’s what Sean presumed by the image Jonah had included of himself in a dressing room. Wearing a pastel pink tee.
Jonah: Hey, Sean. Help a brother out. Is this shirt white?
Sean grinned wide and shook his head.
Sean: Sorry, my man. Another pretty in pink.
His roommate replied instantly.
Jonah: Fuck. Okay. What about this one?
A second picture popped up less than thirty seconds later. This time with Jonah wearing purple.
Jonah: This one’s cool, right? Just regular light blue?
Sean winced sympathetically. The thing with Jonah’s color blindness was that he couldn’t see pink, or in other words, faint shades of red. And since the color Jonah was sporting right now contained red…
Sean: No go, Joe. Strike two. Light purple.
A few heartbeats passed.
Jonah: Motherfucker. Okay. New plan. BRB
Sean chuckled and glanced over his shoulder, scanned his tables, turned back. Another image emerged on his screen. Jonah, holding up three shirts by their hangers, two in one hand, one gripped between his teeth.
