Page 9 of Room One Hundred and Twenty-Five: All Access
“You are. We won’t ignore your limits, but you’ll be our toy for the night, and we’ll use your body for our pleasure and yours, however we see fit. Yours and Ira’s.” Gable adds the last bit while swinging his attention to the slightly smaller man with Clark Kent glasses and a bashful grin that makes me feel as if he and I share a secret.
“You think I’m a sub?” Ira asks. He doesn’t sound upset by the idea, but he also doesn’t agree automatically.
“To us, yes. To her, no.” Ridge’s tone makes it clear there’s no question in his mind about it. Tension relaxes from my shoulders. I don’t have anything against men who don’t run around playing the big dog alpha role. But after the way my stomach soured watching Jonathan be led around by his nose earlier tonight, I know I won’t enjoy myself if I have to pretend to boss around any of these guys.
I need to be played with the way a doll is. Moved and directed in exactly the way that will bring us all the most pleasure. I need to be taken out of my head and away from the panic-inducing thoughts of what the future will bring.
“So, is this the room you want, then, Hazel? You want a room where you and Ira become my brother and my play toys for the night?” Gable gives me the final decision, but we already know I’ll say yes. I’m nearly panting with anticipation. I nod.
“All access it is, then,” Ira confirms, giving Ridge and Gable a heavy look of expectancy.
Nine
Ridge
Ifollow the other three down the hallway to Room One-hundred-twenty-five with my head on a swivel. My brother leads the way, and I can tell he’s clocking every detail, too. Apprehension threatens to overtake anticipation with every step we take. I attribute most of these feelings of misgiving to not being involved in the planning of this field trip for Ira.
Admittedly, had Gable brought the idea to me, I’d have shot it down outright. Seeing how much happier Ira is makes it obvious I would have been mistaken to refuse, and that in itself bothers me more than it should. Have I been holding back the people around me by being too set in my ways? Too intractable about things when there could have been workarounds?
“Are you a bodyguard or something?” Hazel’s quiet question drags me from my internal obsessing. I push down the existential crisis of self I’m in the middle of and focus on her.
“Something like that,” I reply. “Gable and I own a security firm. Ira is a client. You’re not in any danger being with us tonight, though. So don’t be alarmed.”
Some people get weird about their own safety when they’re in proximity to someone who’s being protected. Hazel’s observant enough to notice my brother and I don’t necessarily treat Ira like a buddy or romantic partner. Not that he couldn’t be both under different circumstances.
The idea of an alternate reality where I’m not half a man and Ira isn’t in danger is a fantasy I’ve allowed myself a time or two since meeting the other man. Of course, in those daydreams, I’m never sharing him with my brother or a woman. Not that I’m averse to either of those things. Especially not now, with the limitations I have.
Since my injuries, I’ve faced the fact I no longer have the necessary equipment to be a good boyfriend. Just getting a hardon takes more time and way more effort than it ever did before, to say nothing about actually nutting. I can’t even remember the last time I came. The amount of work and time it takes just isn’t worth the disappointment these days, especially not when it’s just me making the effort.
“I wasn’t alarmed at all,” she says. “Just trying to figure out the way the wind blows with the three of you. There’s so much chemistry between you all, even though you?—”
She bites the words back, and unlike anyone else who I’d rather keep their thoughts to themselves, I need to know what she was going to say. What does she sees when she looks at me?
“I what?” I prod.
“You’re different than your brother,” she confides.
“Well aware,” I deadpan. Gable’s always been the more lighthearted of the two of us. Even when Kendall, his bitch girlfriend, dumped him for taking too much attention away from her to help me with my recovery, Gable stayed positive about life.
“Not in a bad way. Just, um, just different.” Hazel’s feet slow, leaving Ira and Gable several steps ahead of us in the hallway. She turns to face me and puts her hand against my chest, right above where my heart has started to pound.
“When Gable looks at me, it feels like he sees a triple layer slice of cake waiting to be savored. But you?—”
My heart thuds heavily, waiting to hear what she says next.
“You look at me like a raider discovering treasure in a long-lost crypt. Like you’ll wrap around me and obliterate anything that so much as blinks crossly at me.” Her fingers curl into my sweater, pressing five perfect points into the meat of my pec.
Hazel Voss may have agreed to be a free use living sex toy in Room One-twenty-five tonight, with the agreement she’s not the one in charge, but her slender little hand clutched into my chest makes it clear she’s no submissive outside the bedroom.
Her hand on me drags a glimmer of need from my balls, a twinge I haven’t felt in so long I almost miss it when it happens. My cock twitches behind the zipper of my thick black-canvas cargo pants, and the shock of it makes me miss a step.
“You okay, man?” Gable asks, our delay finally catching his and Ira’s attention.
“We’re fine,” Hazel answers for me. Good thing, since my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth.
“You coming, then?” Ira bounces like an excited puppy, and my woken-up dick likes watching his jubilance, too.
“Yeah, I think so.”
