“What?”
“Rumors at The Rock. People say you’re into… You
like to tie people up.”
Cam circled Evan—a big circle. He didn’t want a wellplaced fist to the knee. “What’s that got to do with you?”
Evan finally looked up, and Cam was surprised the
anger was gone. Instead, those bright blue eyes were
wrecked, red around the edges, wet. Great, now he had a
crying undergrad on his living room floor.
Cam gestured to the foyer. “Get out, man.”
Evan nodded and slowly stood. Amazing how broken
someone in a leather jacket and biker boots could actually
look. “I’m a freak,” he whispered. “All I’ve ever wanted is
for someone to tie me up and fuck me stupid. I’ve always
been afraid to ask, but then, I heard about you, so I signed
up for that graphic design class so maybe you’d notice me.
So maybe someone could finally get me off.” He pushed
his bangs out of his eyes. “But I’m just a freak.” He turned
to leave.
Cam’s head was … well. All the blood in his body was
no longer anywhere near his head. He said, “Evan, wait.
You want someone to tie you up?”
Evan glanced back from the shadows. “I know it’s
sick.”
Cam laughed, which, he could see, made Evan’s
shoulders tense. He tried stomping for the front door, but
Cam caught up with him, spun him around, and slammed
his back against the wall so hard a painting fell.
Then, it was all tongues and teeth and lips and hands
groping, tearing. Cam twisted Evan’s hair around his
fingers and tugged backwards until his young, needy
submissive groaned, “More.”
Cam spoke with his mouth against Evan’s throat. “You
like that? When I hurt you?”
Evan nodded.
Decision made.
“Virgin or no, I’m gonna fuck you into the floor.”