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Sean held his gaze so tight, it felt like he was tethering their souls. “Alright,” he conceded. He drew in a breath. Then that hopeful little smile of his was back.
Good. Thank fuck. And how backward was that, when two seconds ago Max had been willing Sean’s smiles away.
Max offered up a tiny little smile of his own. “There. That’s my cat.” He rustled Sean’s hair. “Now get going. I’ll be down in a few.”
* * *
“In a few” ended up more like a good twenty minutes. But not to amp Sean’s anticipation, like normal. This time was because Max kept dragging his feet. He’d had his boots, pants, and vest on in less than five minutes. Even all his added Dom accessories. His head—and stomach—however, weren’t as easy to get a grip on. Took forever for him to leash them into submission. But he had, eventually, reminding himself that he’d planned for tonight. Taken measures. Measures to compensate for his current mental standing, to ensure that things still ran nice and smooth. Measures Sean would be privy to soon, too.
Max tromped down the steps in his big, black shitkickers, loving how they echoed in the stairwell. Made him feel like a thunderstorm steadily approaching, a warning to his prey that they should brace themselves.
Max smirked. He was an arrogant bastard.
But hey, if the shoe fit. Or in his case, the big, black boot.
Max reached his dungeon door, paused and stared at the thing, then drew in a lungful and shoved it open. His eyes locked instantly on the object of his turmoil. On Sean, waiting quietly in the middle of the room. Max released that breath and drank Sean in. The way he sat so obediently on the dungeon floor, eyes down, body in perfect, proper position. Such a handsome little sub.
Max’s heart thumped faster as he strode into the room, eyeing Sean’s hot little getup. Or more specifically, the teddy bodysuit Max had left for him. Made of black PVC leather, the skin-tight shorts and tee one-piece had a zipper that ran from Sean’s collar down to between his legs, then up the other side to his tailbone. Max loved open-crotches—especially on Sean. Although, if he could’ve covered Sean from head to toe tonight, he absolutely would have. Not that he didn’t have the power. Problem was, after the shit that had happened last Thursday, to completely cover Sean up would be implicating. Might as well just spell it out in blinking, neon letters that he didn’t want to be tempted by Sean’s body. Not by his beautiful face, not by his smooth, warm skin. Because that kind of knowledge would encourage Sean, which was the last fucking thing that he needed.
He came to a stop in front of his sub, envisioning Sean covered in leather. A black leather mask and everything, with nose and eye holes, and another that held Sean’s mouth open for easy access. Max squeezed his crotch, tamping a husky purr. Shit, truth be told, seeing Sean suited up like that would still make Max horny as hell. Oh, well. Whatever. At least this way, Sean had less to infer off of; teddy suits were pretty standard sub gear.
Max wordlessly stared down at him, fists clenched at his sides, wanting feverishly to touch him, but apprehensive. Already, his head was starting to feel high, just being in Sean’s fucking presence. But the heady anticipation of what they’d be doing shortly, had that potent, drunk sensation quickly strengthening.
He flexed his fingers. Just do this. Get it done. After all, his plan was pretty airtight.
Sean shifted on his heels, his hands fidgeting behind his back, gripping each other’s forearms so dutifully. Max smiled before he could stop himself, but the gesture was short-lived. Sean was a good kid. Deserved to be happy. And despite how Max probably should feel about Thursday, he wasn’t really mad at Sean. Not really. Because clearly, Sean’s little visit hadn’t been with bad intention. No insidious plan to do Max wrong. No scheming ploys. Sean had just wanted to see him. Talk to him. Be with him. Just wanted to tell him how he felt.
Unfortunately, Sean’s innocent actions did do damage regardless. Not only had they pulled Max’s feelings into the open, but shoved their shocking strength down his throat. Feelings, as it were, he’d only just acknowledged on Tuesday. Feelings that had been growing this whole time. Growing, steadily, while stupid fucking Max spoon-fed himself his own lie. It’d been a hard blow to everything; his sanity, his pride, ushering in a whole new batch of stress. In fact, the only reason that he’d stayed friggin’ sane was knowing he had a week to figure shit out. Not the two days until Sean showed up at his door.
Max inhaled deep, then exhaled slow. Stop thinking. Get to work.
