Positive
Reinforcement Mathilde Watson
Published by Silver Publishing Publisher of Erotic Romance
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Dedication
For Christina, because she's waited long enough!
Positive Reinforcement
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Chapter I The alarm clock on the bedside table blared to life and woke Dale Brighton from his erotic dream. He'd been fucking his lover, Grant Stevens, over a table in a crowded restaurant, the smaller man's pants down around his ankles and his gorgeous ass decorated with Dale's bright red palm prints. They were surrounded by Dale's colleagues and clients, all looking on with envy while Dale's typically shy and quiet lover writhed beneath him, calling out Dale's name and begging for him to fuck him harder. Just when Dale had been about to climax, his lover's cries of passion had changed into the ear splitting sound of his alarm. Frustrated, he lashed out against the offending electronic, slamming his fist onto the off button. When the high-pitched screeching finally stopped, Dale's attention returned to his raging hard-on. Smiling to himself, he rolled over and slid across the bed to Grant's side. He was still so turned on by his dream that he would only need a few moments buried inside his lover to achieve climax. He had time. Dale reached out for Grant, prepared to mount his man and take care of his need, but his arms came up empty. Groaning with renewed frustration, Dale opened his eyes to find himself alone on the massive bed. He rolled back over onto his own side and glared up 6
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at the ceiling. Far too many mornings over the past year had begun this way, with Grant getting up early and leaving Dale to wake alone. Angrily he kicked the covers down and off his body before rolling off the side of the bed and heading for the bathroom and a hot shower. If he had to take care of himself he could at least do it in comfort. Stomping into the master bathroom he bypassed the large whirlpool tub and headed right for the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would get. Turning back to face the mirror over the sink Dale studied his reflection while he waited for the water to heat. Thirty-four years old and his looks hadn't diminished in the least. Fierce brown eyes stared back at him from behind shaggy bangs. His long black hair hung down his neck, with a few strands falling in front over his wide shoulders. His heavily muscled torso gleamed with the sweat building in the growing heat from the shower. Dale saw a perfect example of masculine beauty reflected in the mirror before him, a physique that demanded the attention and worship of everyone who looked at him, male or female. With the snap of his fingers he could have nearly anyone he wanted laid out on his bed with their legs spread, begging for him. Why the hell did he have to fall for someone so practical and hard working as Grant had turned out to be? 7
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At first glance Dale had mistaken him for a young college student, just another frat boy looking for a good time, like so many of his sex partners. Instead he turned out to be a twenty-six year old college professor with a sweet innocence about him that Dale still found irresistible. The steam from the shower fogged over the glass, obscuring Dale's view of his own magnificent reflection. His looks had served him well, luring the beautiful younger man into his bed and his life. He just wished Grant were better suited to the lifestyle he'd become accustomed to over the years. His shy and conservative nature denied them the occasional pleasure of bringing in multiple partners and the excitement of exhibitionism. It didn't lend itself well to the extreme kink that Dale had come to enjoy and expect from his partners. Turning away from the clouded mirror, he climbed into the shower and ducked his head under the scalding spray. His entire body immediately began to tingle. The small bite of pain that accompanied the heat intensified his arousal and caused his dick to throb with impatience. At last he gave in to his desires, grasping his aching dick in his fist and tugging roughly. Closing his eyes, he turned his back to the shower spray and leaned forward, spreading his legs and pressing his other hand against the tiles in front of him. The hot water ran over his back and 8
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through the trench of his ass, flowing down over his balls with enough force to mimic the feel of someone's fingers fondling his sack. Dale squeezed his fist tightly around himself and began to thrust hard and fast. He imagined Grant on his knees before him, sucking him with wild enthusiasm, his big blue eyes wide with excitement as he stared up at Dale. Dale longed to wrap his hands around the timid man's scalp, to fist his hands into Grant's neat blond locks and pound the infuriating reserve right out of him. As quickly as the vicious thought crossed Dale's mind he shoved it aside, cursing himself for even thinking it. Physically, Grant's boyish looks and size made him seem like the perfect submissive counterpart to Dale's large, muscular build, and nothing thrilled him more than the envious stares he got from the other Doms when he could coax Grant into the bars with him. But those occasions were few and far between, and the boy's reticence when Dale would introduce new toys or more intense play into their sex life made him question his choice of partner. To his credit, Grant had never actually refused Dale anything in the privacy of their bedroom, but he never allowed Dale to make love to him in public places, not even a simple blow job behind a closed door in a restroom stall. Dale continued to thrust hard and fast, sliding his 9
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thumb over the head of his leaking dick and pressing against the slit while dragging the nails of his fingers along his tender shaft. It didn't take much imagination to feel his lover's throat close around the tip of his cock, or his lover's teeth gently teasing his delicate member. Dale felt his balls draw up tight against his body while he pictured the two of them going at it in a dark corner of a crowed bar. He let out a sharp cry and emptied himself all over the image of Grant's upturned face, imagining himself the envy of everyone in the room as he marked the pretty boy as his property. His legs stopped shaking and Dale opened his eyes, watching his spend slide down the wall in front of him to mix with the water swirling around his feet before disappearing down the drain. With a sigh Dale shook his head and straightened back up, reaching for the shampoo. The fantasies had left him empty and feeling even dirtier than before. They were becoming more violent, more desperate as time passed and he worried how they might affect their actual relationship. He knew they would never become reality, and that knowledge dredged up unwelcome, bitter thoughts. Could he be satisfied with the way things were between them? Was Grant happy? Perhaps this relationship wasn't fair to either of them, but Dale couldn't imagine ending it and giving the man up. 10
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He finished washing up and rinsing off just as the hot water gave out and began to run cold. He quickly turned off the spray and shut the water off, climbing out of the shower and onto the soft plush shower mat. For a moment he just stood there, enjoying the contrast made by the cold air hitting his heated skin, and the now cold water dripping from his hair down onto his body. Only when his nipples began to pebble did he reach for a towel. He could feel himself becoming aroused again, and he didn't have time for another round with his right hand. Dale toweled off quickly and took care of the rest of his business in the bathroom; emptying his bladder, brushing his teeth and shaving the stubble from his face. The fog on the mirror had finally cleared and he watched with resignation as his hand worked a comb through his hair, taming the locks back into a neat, business appropriate ponytail at the nape of his neck. Had Dale not been so good looking his boss would have likely insisted on him cutting his hair short like the rest of the team; but fortunately for Dale, the woman found him and his hair attractive. She took great pleasure in pulling out the tie and running her fingers through his hair whenever she managed to get him alone. Dale considered this annoyance a small price to pay for the way his hair added to his feral look when he got decked out in leather 11
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and hit the bars. Cleaned up and dry, Dale headed out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom where he found a gray suit already pressed and hanging over the closet door. A quick glance at the clock told him he was running late; he hurried to get into his suit, relieved to find his tie had already been knotted and needed only to be slipped over his head and tightened. He doubted he would ever get used to business attire, or to working a regular nine to five job. It disgusted him to realize how much like his father he had become, with a house, a mortgage, a steady job, and a domestic partner who would have made the perfect housewife if he were a woman. Dale rolled his eyes at the thought and sat down on the edge of the bed to tie his shoes. The black leather shined as though they had been polished, and they probably had. Grant's domestic abilities and his attention to detail certainly did rival those of Dale's mother, adding validity to the unwelcome comparison. Pushing those thoughts aside, Dale doubled the knot in his shoe almost violently and rose to his feet. He had just enough time to eat breakfast, assuming Grant had something ready for him. Dale hurried down the hallway and through the living room, following the smells of coffee and something baking in the kitchen. He stopped briefly in front of the 12
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fireplace, enjoying the heat in the room and warming his hands over the soothing blaze. Glancing out the window, he noticed the snow had continued throughout the night, piling up in mounds around the backyard. A few flakes continued to fall, and Dale dreaded his commute to work all the more. The winter had been long and harsh already, and with snows this deep lasting into early February, an early spring didn't seem likely. He shuddered and turned away from the window. He couldn't do anything about the cold or the weather outside, but the smells coming from the kitchen promised to warm up his insides. It only took a few strides for his long legs to carry him across the room and around the corner into the brightly lit, spacious kitchen. Grant stood at the end of the center island counter spreading red frosting over the tops of a batch of sugar cookies. Hearts and flowers covered every available surface, the red and white gooey mess filling the air with the scent of warm sugar. The sleeves of Grant's blue sweat suit were pushed up to his elbows, and his forearms were covered in flour and frosting. He even had a red smudge over one eyebrow, and red and white smears covered the front of his shirt. The sight that met him would have made most people laugh, but in Dale's current mood, the chaos of 13
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cookies and candies scattered everywhere only pissed him off more. The almost childlike glee apparent on his lover's face excited his libido anew, which did nothing calm his raging temper. "What the hell is all this shit?" Dale lifted the corner of the nearest cookie sheet and then dropped it, causing it to fall unceremoniously back onto the counter and sending cookies scattering across the counter and over onto the floor. Grant's hands stilled over the cookies he was working on, and he raised his head, blinking at Dale in surprised confusion for a few seconds before his entire face lit back up in an excited grin. Damn. The man's unaffected joy for living made him seem more like an exuberant teenager than the mature professional he boasted being, and it made Dale feel almost ancient. "Good morning love! There's a bagel on the table for you, and the coffee will be ready any second." Dale didn't return his smile, and Grant didn't seem to notice. The little blond simply went back to work icing the last few cookies in front of him. "Well, aren't you just a regular Martha Stewart this morning," Dale quipped, turning back to the table to look for his breakfast. It would take more than a few broken cookies to get a rise out his sweet tempered lover, but Dale felt sure he was up to the task. Reaching the head of the table, Dale yanked the 14
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chair out, dragging the legs across the hardwood floor and making a loud screeching sound before dropping heavily into it. "Oh good grief, Grant, what the hell has gotten into you this morning? What is all this shit? "Sitting on the table in front of Dale was a heart shaped bagel covered with pink cream cheese. A bowl of strawberries sat next to the bagel, and two heart-shaped slices of strawberry were placed on top of the bagel, overlapping each other along the edge of the cream cheese heart. Rolling his eyes, Dale shoved the edge of the bagel into his mouth and took a big bite, trying not to moan in appreciation; he was still pissed after all. Across the room, Grant finished with the cookies and went to the sink to wash up. He didn't bother to respond to Dale's banter; he never did. The change in position of course gave Dale an excellent view of the slender man's back, and when the lithe body leaned over to turn the water on, Dale had to stifle another kind of moan. His arousal returned full force in reaction to Grant's tight backside on display with only a pair of thin sweatpants between his eyes and the prize. Grant shrugged as he rubbed the soap onto his hands and arms, drawing the hem of his shirt up and revealing the smooth, pale skin of his back above the loose waistband, which hung so low on his hips that the crack of his ass peeked out. The vision before him and the images they conjured almost distracted Dale 15
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from hearing Grant's sudden, unexpected response. "Well, I just figured today would be an excellent opportunity to show everyone my appreciation, you know? It's been a long hard winter, and everyone is tired and worn out and cranky. My students have really been working hard this semester, and I don't want to see anyone get discouraged. I just thought it would be nice to make today fun, you know? Give everyone a little positive reinforcement instead of just throwing more deadlines into their schedules." Grant turned around and leaned against the sink behind him, shrugging again and showing off his flat stomach. Dale groaned and closed his eyes, blocking the sight of Grant's pale skin and the soft blond curls peeking out above his lover's waistband. His hard-on had returned with a vengeance, the zipper of his dress pants digging into the sensitive skin of his shaft and wrapping his balls in an agonizing stranglehold. The discomfort reminded Dale that he had woken up alone and unsatisfied, and his irritation intensified with the news that Grant had abandoned him to make cookies for a bunch of snot-nosed high school dropouts! The fact that he didn't have the time to take care of his current growing problem only made matters worse. Dale chewed away angrily at his second bite of bagel, trying to settle the mixture of rage and lust that 16
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coursed through him. Swallowing the well-chewed mouthful, Dale opened his eyes and glared at his oblivious lover. "You have got to be shitting me. You teach a room full of stupid fuck-ups who didn't have enough brains to graduate high school the first time around. Most of them still don't give a damn, and you thought it would be a good idea to reward them? For what? Last I checked, laziness, ignorance, and stupidity weren't qualities for a person to celebrate." Grant raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Dale took another huge bite out of his bagel and leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs wide to give his erection more room. Trying to incite Grant's anger kept his blood flowing, and his lover's calm acceptance of his criticism made him even sexier, reminding Dale why he'd asked the inexperienced little submissive to be his. That little spark of spirit made Dale want to drag Grant to his knees, force that smirk to wrap around his aching cock, and remind Grant of his place. Dale swallowed around his lust and decided to try another tactic. "I thought the idea behind these classes was to prepare these morons for life in the real world. If they ever manage to land real jobs outside the cushy world of academia you live in, they aren't going to know what hit them. In the real world, where I live, I work hard for 17
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everything I have. I do what I have to do because I have to do it, and no one thanks me or rewards me for it because I had to do it!" During the course of Dale's tirade Grant simply moved across the room unconcerned, well used to fielding Dale's temper in the early morning hours. Taking two mugs down from the cabinet he calmly filled both with coffee. He added sugar and cream to them and held one out to Dale, who glared back at the man's calm expression. "I don't get help or praise for what I do. Nobody hands me shit!" Dale finished his speech by snatching the mug out of Grant's hand and taking a huge gulp. The warm liquid filled his mouth and he moaned with pleasure. Grant always knew just how he liked his coffee, strong and sweet. Putting the mug down on the table in front of him, he caught another smirk on Grant's face and felt compelled to wipe it off once and for all. "What, do you think you've earned a reward for this or something?" Dale waved his hand over the mug and plate in front of him, indicating the breakfast his lover had prepared. "You don't have to haul your ass out into that snowy weather until nine o'clock, and then you only actually work six hours a day. You live in my house and you sleep in my bed; so helping out around the place while I'm off working until all hours is the least you can do!" 18
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Grant's smile fell, and for a moment Dale took an obscene pride in knowing he had managed to hit his mark, but the satisfaction didn't last long. The broken look on Grant's face was so like his mother's, and he could hear his father's voice echoing those same cruel words in a memory from the distant past. The accusations he'd thrown at Grant weren't fair, but in his current temper Dale couldn't stop them from flying out of his mouth. He knew his lover worked hard and he paid his share around the house, but he did it with a smile and with an enthusiasm Dale could never muster in his own life. Unable to bring himself up to Grant's level of happiness, he instead tried to drag his lover down with him the way his father had done with his family. Grant blinked rapidly a few times before summoning a weak smile. Dale slumped down into his chair, defeated and disappointed with himself for how his morning had turned out. There was no fight in his lover today, and the hurt look on his face made Dale's stomach twist uncomfortably. The fact that Grant didn't fight back made it impossible for him to justify his actions, and the guilt he felt now drained him of all his energy. Grant picked up the coffee pot and the sugar bowl and carried them to the table, refilling Dale's mug and adding just the right amount of sugar. "I know you have it rough, love, and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you tonight, I 19
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promise." Grant's fingers twirled around his ponytail and Dale sighed, soaking up the attention and trying to relax. The press of Grant's soft lips against the shell of his ear even managed to make Dale crack a smile. "When should I have supper ready tonight, lover? I have something special planned." His suggestive tone and close proximity reignited Dale's erection, and with it Dale's temper. Again he found himself wanting without any hope of satisfaction. He had to leave for work now or he would be late. Angrily, Dale pushed his chair back, shoving his lover aside while he rose to his feet. "Damn it, Grant, what the hell is wrong with you? I have a dinner appointment with a new potential client tonight. I was up all night working on the proposal, remember? And if everything goes the way I want it to, we'll probably go out for drinks afterwards." His face flushed a bright red, Grant took a step back and his eyes began to shine with moisture. Dale could see him fighting back tears and hurt, but he couldn't understand why. Dale frequently ate out with his clients, and he went out for drinks after work several times a week to unwind, venting his frustrations away from home and sparing Grant from the worst displays of his moods. It was only February, and their anniversary was months away. Grant hadn't mentioned anything special about today before now, and it 20
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infuriated him that his lover clearly expected him to clear his schedule because of some silly whim. Dale scoffed at his lover's uncharacteristic distress and stalked across the room to the front door. He grabbed his coat off the rack and shrugged into it, buttoning it up tight. He pulled his scarf from the next hook and wrapped the warm fleece around his neck, then turned back to Grant, who still stood gawking at him from the kitchen. "I don't plan on coming home before midnight tonight, buddy, so you can just take your special supper and shove it." With that, Dale pulled his scarf up to cover his mouth and nose before turning to open the door and rushing out into the below-freezing temperature. He made sure the door slammed loudly behind him, punctuating his displeasure. Grant's absence from their bed that morning and his neglect of Dale's needs had hurt, and he'd be damned if he didn't let the other man know it.
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Chapter II Dale raced down the steps and along the shoveled and salted sidewalk to where his car already sat idling. The windows had been scraped and the snow around the vehicle had been dug away. Dale opened the driver's door and gratefully climbed into the warm car, the heater blowing full blast and making the interior a toasty heaven. Dale checked the mirrors and put the car in reverse, backing out onto the road and heading for the office. The driveway had been shoveled and salted all the way out to the plowed road, making his retreat fast and easy. He arrived at the parking lot behind the office building and reached over to the passenger seat for his briefcase, but his hand landed on the empty seat. He hadn't grabbed it before rushing out of the house; he had been too preoccupied by Grant's diffidence and his sexy little body to pay attention to any other details. He let out a frustrated yell and switched the car into reverse, throwing his arm over the back of the passenger seat and turning to look out the back window before backing into the crowed parking lot. Dale saw that the lot was clear behind him and took his foot off the brake, starting to ease back out of his parking space when he noticed something in the back seat 22
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that looked suspiciously familiar. He slammed back on the brake and caused the car to jerk violently, throwing his briefcase onto the floor behind the passenger seat. A harsh laugh of relief escaped his throat as he turned around and maneuvered his car back into the parking space. A trip back inside his house that morning would have only spelled disaster. He turned off the car and pocketed the keys, then reached behind the passenger seat to fish his briefcase off the floor. Bag in hand, he jumped out of the car, locked the doors and ran for the doors that led to the stairwell at the back of the building. The snowfall had picked up and heavy flakes stuck to his eyelashes. Grabbing the door handle, Dale winced at the cold and lamented the fact he hadn't bothered to grab his gloves that morning. Once inside he shoved his freezing hands into the pockets of his coat and began his customary jog up the seven flights of stairs to his floor. His left hand met with resistance, the pocket already full, and Dale almost stumbled on his way up the stairs as he pulled out the contents to reveal his thick suede gloves. His steps slowed as he thought back to the previous night. He had worked late as usual, preparing his presentation for the following evening. His boss had interrupted his work, suggesting he join her for a drink at her place to discuss his 23
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plans for the meeting the following night. Finding him alone in his office she had turned on the charm, flirting and touching him until he couldn't focus anymore. He'd accepted her offer of drinks to speed up the process of getting her out of his hair, leaving her passed out naked on the couch in her living room and going home late and a little tipsy. At last Dale reached the seventh floor and pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit hallway that led to his office. At seven a.m. the floor was mostly deserted. Most of the other associates would begin to trickle in around eight-thirty or nine, but Dale always made a point of arriving early. When he reached the door to his office he fished the keys out of his pants pocket. They were there of course, even though he knew he'd left them in the pants he'd worn the previous day. He unlocked the door and pushed his way into the spacious office. Turning on the lights, he went straight to his desk and fell heavily into his office chair. Dale remembered stumbling through the front door of his home the previous evening, bellowing for Grant and banging into everything while tripping over his own feet. It was a miracle he'd made the drive home safely. He'd shed his coat immediately upon entering the house, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. He'd kicked his shoes off in the kitchen 24
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and shed his shirt and tie in the living room. Grant had found him sprawled over the couch a few minutes later and had brought him a hot bowl of chicken soup and a steaming mug of black coffee. He felt much better after he'd eaten, and he pulled out the files and reports he needed to finish for the next day. Grant had stayed up with him and helped him finish the report, binding it for him and checking it over for mistakes before helping Dale to bed. As soon as Dale made it to the bedroom, his mind shut off and Grant took care of everything, undressing him and tucking him comfortably into bed. His lover's soothing and gentle attention wiped away his stress and the awful memories of an unpleasant evening spent with his overeager boss. Dale had long been unconscious before Grant made it to bed, and he'd continued to sleep well after his lover had risen that morning. Dale groaned and placed his elbows on the desk in front of him, dropping his head into his hands. He'd been a total ass to Grant earlier, even more so than usual, and he knew it. The man had his own life and his own career and Dale was incredibly lucky to have him in his life, taking care of him – because as much as he hated to admit it, he knew without a doubt he couldn't do it himself. Grant had picked up after Dale last night, hanging 25
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his coat up to dry and placing his gloves in his pocket. His keys and wallet had been transferred from yesterday's discarded clothes into the suit Grant had pressed and waiting for him this morning. His shoes had been shined and breakfast had been waiting on the table for him. Grant had not only gotten up early enough to fix breakfast and those damn cookies for his students, but he'd shoveled and salted the porch, the sidewalk and the driveway. His lover had even been thoughtful enough to scrape the ice from his windows and crank the car so it would be warm for Dale when he left for work. And Dale had given him hell for it. He'd treated his lover like shit simply because he'd awoken alone in bed. Sure, he'd had to jerk himself off to relieve his morning hard-on, but that didn't give him the right to punish his lover. Grant wasn't just there for Dale's sexual gratification, and Dale needed to remember that and start showing the man some respect. Dale sighed and sat back in his chair, reaching for his briefcase. Ever since Grant had moved in with him a year ago his life had become far less complicated. Grant had eagerly taken responsibility for Dale's care, seeing to his every need with such efficiency that Dale hadn't even realized it before now. He never had to do anything at home anymore, which allowed him to focus on the 26
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overwhelming demands of his job. He flipped his laptop open and pressed the button, waiting for it to power up. He snorted derisively as he considered how much of the time he spent working involved flirting, drinking, and fooling around with his boss, coworkers, and clients. Bile rose up in his throat as he remembered the taste of his boss's whiskey-flavored lips the night before, and the feel of her clumsy hands down the front of his pants. His laptop drew his attention away from those unpleasant thoughts with a soft ding, announcing it had finished powering up. He typed in his password and hit enter before reaching into his briefcase again. His hand encountered a paper bag and he smiled, pulling it out to see what Grant had fixed him for lunch today. At the top of the pile was one of Grant's sugar cookies, this one shaped like a heart with the words I love you written in red icing across the top. Holding the cookie with a trembling hand in front of him, Dale desperately hoped his boss's hangover would keep her home that morning. He doubted he could put up with her shit today on top of the self-loathing he now found himself wallowing in. He placed the cookie on his desk, leaning it up against the cup that held his assortment of pens and pencils. It seemed to stare at him accusingly while he pulled up the 27
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spreadsheets he wanted to work on that morning. Good. He deserved to be chastened after the way he had behaved at breakfast. Dale had never been in a serious relationship before bringing Grant home, and he hadn't been looking for one then. Even though they lived together they still had a somewhat casual relationship because Dale couldn't cope with the idea of allowing anyone to dictate his life. He needed to be in complete control at all times, but that didn't mean he should drag Grant down every day to affirm his dominance. Grant never denied him that. The self-induced guilt trip lasted him throughout the morning. Instead of studying the spreadsheets and figuring out where the formula had been entered incorrectly, Dale thought about Grant and reflected over the year and a half they'd spent together. Grant brought so much energy and enthusiasm into their relationship. A natural submissive, he never objected to or undermined Dale's authority. He saw what needed doing and he did it without question or direction, expecting nothing in return. Realizing how completely the younger man had worked his way into Dale's life filled Dale with fear and shame. What if Grant finally got tired of tending to his every need, of being treated like a servant instead of a valued partner? With his looks and demeanor, Grant could 28
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easily find a less demanding partner, someone who would appreciate him openly. Dale's eyes wandered back over to the cookie on his desk and he smiled, an idea beginning to form in his brain. What had Grant said about those cookies that morning? He'd called them 'positive reinforcement,' an unexpected reward for all the hard work his students had done that year. Dale had scoffed at the idea, missing the point completely and railing against rewarding someone for the things they have to do anyway. If Grant's students wanted to pass the course and obtain their GEDs, then they had to do the work. Grant hadn't denied that; he hadn't argued against Dale's logic because that hadn't been the point. The cookies were more a show of appreciation than a reward or a bribe. Yes, the students had to do the work to pass, but they didn't have to be nice about it. Dale was an excellent example of that; he worked long and hard and he got the job done, but few people wanted to be around him while he did it. Grant, on the other hand, was a different story. He did what he had to do and then kept right on going, doing more and more...never stopping and never once complaining about the workload. He took care of himself and he took care of Dale—and Dale took advantage of his kindness and generosity. Never once could Dale even 29
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remember so much as thanking Grant for anything he'd done. He'd expected complete devotion from his chosen submissive and he'd gotten it, never once realizing how fortunate he was to have found someone as wonderful as Grant. Dale completely gave up the pretense of working and closed his laptop. He reached across the desk and picked up the cookie, holding it under his nose and breathing in the sweet scents of sugar and strawberry icing. Placing the cookie between his lips, he took a big bite, savoring the rich flavors and reminding himself that he had responsibilities in their relationship, too. Grant had willingly submitted to Dale's authority when he moved into the house, allowing Dale to dominate him completely whenever they entered the bedroom. He gave himself completely to Dale without ever making any demands of his own. Sure, Dale had fantasies and desires that Grant couldn't fulfill, but he'd known that going into their arrangement. Besides, it only stood to reason that Grant had his own fantasies and desires about the two of them that were equally unfulfilled. They never discussed Grant's needs because his purpose in Dale's home was to provide for Dale. Their arrangement was grossly unfair to Grant, and it made Dale sick to come to that sudden, shocking 30
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revelation. He put the rest of the cookie back down on the desk. The mouthful he’d already taken became heavy on his tongue and he tried to swallow it past the lump forming in his throat. It filled him with shame to admit that he gave Grant exactly what the man expected out of their relationship: nothing. Grant gave his all to please Dale, and he did an incredible job; and in return Dale gave him nothing but pain, grief, and a constant assault of unwarranted criticism. He ran his finger gently over the remaining words love you written on the cookie in front of him. His guilt weighed him down heavily, but his spirit slowly rose at the words. He knew what he needed to do to make things right. The solution stared him in the face. The idea that had been building in his mind from the moment he found the cookie finally came together in the form of a plan he could work with. Dale couldn't change his nature. He couldn't suddenly revert back to doing housework and taking care of the day to day chores Grant did all the time. Nor did he want to. What he could do, however, was follow Grant's example from that morning. He could show his lover some appreciation for all the things he'd done; he could offer him a little 'positive reinforcement' for the role he played in 31
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Dale's life. Dale smiled to himself and reached for the cookie again, taking another bite and again enjoying the sweetness that exploded over his tongue. The clock on his desk read eight forty-five, and the noise building in the hallway confirmed that the workday was about to begin. Grant would be leaving home and heading for campus any minute, leaving the house deserted until he his last class ended around six p.m. A soft knock sounded on the door before his secretary, Janet, bustled into the room, her arms overflowing with file folders. "Good morning sir, you all set for the big meeting this evening?" Janet dropped her load onto the edge of Dale's desk and looked at him expectantly, her hands already on her hips, no doubt waiting for him to bite her head off. Instead Dale smiled and shook his head. Folding his hands behind his head, he leaned back in his chair and met her gaze dead on, smiling even broader as her eyes grew wide with surprise. "Actually Janet, I'm not. I'm going to need you to cancel my appointment for tonight and reschedule it at the client's earliest convenience. Make my apologies and explain that I have a family emergency to attend to. I want you to cancel the reservations at the restaurant, but ask them to prepare two plates for me to 32
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pick up at five-thirty. Offer them an extra hundred dollars for their troubles, and charge it to my personal account, not the company account. If anyone gives you any trouble, just let me know." Dale smiled again and shoved the last of the cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly and enjoying the play of emotions that crossed Janet's face. The poor woman gawked and sputtered for a full thirty seconds before she managed to regain some composure. Finally she smoothed her hair back and nodded. "Yes, of course, sir. Will there be anything else?" Her quick recovery and calm acceptance of something so completely out of the ordinary surprised him, and reminded him of Grant's reactions when Dale tried to prod him into anger. It amazed him that anyone could have that much self-control. Perhaps he should think about doing something to show Janet some appreciation, too, someday soon. Anyone who willingly put up with him and his volatile temper deserved to be rewarded. Dale swallowed his last bite of cookie and nodded his head, another idea coming to him. "Just one more thing, if you don't mind. I'll need you to call a florist for me. Order a dozen red roses and maybe a box of chocolates, something romantic without being tacky. I only plan on working until lunch time today, so make it quick." Dale 33
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dismissed her, dropping his gaze and flipping his laptop back open. "I'll get right on it, sir." Janet turned and quickly raced out the door, and Dale relaxed in his chair with a selfsatisfied sigh. It felt unexpectedly good to be on the giving end of a relationship. His mind raced with ideas for how to best surprise and pamper his lover. Making Grant the center of attention instead of himself was such a foreign concept to Dale it made him giddy with excitement. He didn't know where to begin, and he successfully managed to wile away several hours planning a romantic assault on his lover's senses. His luck held; his boss indeed called in sick, and his morning passed uninterrupted until Janet returned at one o'clock that afternoon, her soft knock startling him out of an erotic fantasy involving Grant covered in strawberries and whipped cream. Janet entered the office biting her bottom lip and tapping her nails nervously against her clipboard. Dale raised an eyebrow and studied her for a minute before taking pity on her and breaking the ice. "Well? Did everything go okay?" Janet laughed and let her hands fall to her sides, shaking her head and then nodding before shrugging her shoulders in apparent defeat. "I canceled your dinner appointment without any trouble. The client actually 34
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seemed relieved; he said he had his own family emergency to attend to tonight as well, so we rescheduled the meeting for Friday. The reservation at the restaurant has been canceled, and they're expecting you to pick up an order at five-thirty as you requested." Janet stopped and swallowed, smiling nervously at Dale. "That all sounds like good news to me, so what's the problem?" He sat forward in his chair and waited for Janet to drop some terrible news in his lap. If the client hadn't been upset by the schedule change what could possibly be wrong? Janet chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds and looked away before answering. "Well, I'm sorry sir, but I called every florist in the phone book and not one of them had any red roses available, or any other color either. Red roses are sold out all over the city, and most of the florists are so swamped they aren't even offering substitutes. I didn't know what else to do. Maybe if I had a little more time…" Janet trailed off and Dale laughed in relief. He'd expected some sort of business crisis he'd have to deal with, not some bizarre citywide flower shortage. "Oh, God Janet, that's fine! Don't worry about it. I'll just think of something else. Thank you for trying." Janet visibly relaxed, her slender form sagging with relief. Dale realized he must be really hard on her if she expected him 35
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to lose his cool over a dozen flowers. He quickly added a memo to his desktop planner to do something special for her before he powered his laptop down. "Well, I'm going to call it quits for today. Thank you for all your help this morning, I really appreciate it. Feel free to head out yourself whenever you're ready. I won't need you again until tomorrow." Dale winked at Janet, who blushed and smiled back. "Thank you, sir. I'll see you in the morning." She turned and quickly left while Dale gathered his things and prepared to leave for the day. It felt strange to be packing up his desk before it even got dark out; strange but good, exciting. Grabbing his briefcase Dale headed for the door, looking over his office one last time to be sure he didn't forget anything. Satisfied, he switched the lights off and exited his office, locking the door behind him and heading quickly for the elevator. He was anxious to put his plan into motion.
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Chapter III Arriving back at the house, Dale pulled his car around back so Grant wouldn't see it when he got home. It surprised him how much he wanted to make this perfect, how badly he wanted to make it good for Grant. Dale typically spent his days wrapped in a self- righteous haze of angry indignation, and he didn't know how to handle the completely foreign feelings of guilt that now assaulted him. Realizing just how badly he'd treated Grant that morning embarrassed him, and the way his lover had responded calmly without censure or reproof made him determined to set things right. He cut the engine and tried to gather all his bags to carry in together, but quickly realized he wouldn't be able to manage everything in one trip. Accepting defeat, he climbed out of the car and collected the bags and boxes from the restaurant for the first trip. It took a few moments of careful juggling to get the house door open without dropping anything, but his determination won out and he managed without any major mishaps. In the kitchen, he followed the instructions from the restaurant carefully, placing the ceramic plates on a baking sheet and setting the oven on low before sliding the meal onto the center rack to heat. The dessert was much easier to 37
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manage. He slid both bowls into the refrigerator to chill, where he was surprised to find two long stemmed red roses surrounded by a spray of baby's breath. Dale pulled the flowers out of the refrigerator and stared at them in wonder. His own attempts to buy roses had been as fruitless as Janet's had been. Clearly his man had planned ahead, prepared for every eventuality. What on earth made today so special to Grant, and why would he bother to go through so much trouble when he knew Dale wouldn't have the decency to appreciate it? Dale shook his head in frustrated confusion and went searching for a vase to put the flowers in. Dwelling on his own faults wouldn't improve the situation and he needed to focus. Sitting on the end of the counter Dale spotted a white tablecloth covered with red dots, a small crystal vase, and two candlestick holders complete with red and white candles. Perfect! Remembering Grant's excitement over his special supper tonight, it didn't surprise him to find the discarded preparations. Grant probably planned to have something special waiting for Dale regardless of the time he came home. Despite his guilt over snapping at Grant that morning, he was glad he'd at least thwarted the other man's plans by beating him home. He needed to be the one giving tonight; but he was sure glad of the unexpected advantage Grant's aborted plans gave him. 38
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On closer examination Dale found that the red dots on the cloth were actually embroidered hearts that overlapped by twos all over the silky white fabric. He chuckled to himself as he spread the cloth over the table, set up the candles and the flowers in the center, and gathered wine glasses and utensils. Grant's submissive nature had been what attracted Dale to him, but the overwhelming romantic streak that made up most of his personality was the deciding factor that drove Dale to invite the man into his home and his life. Grant made Dale the center of his universe and Dale thrived on the attention even more than he did on obedience. But not tonight; tonight it was Grant's turn to be loved and showered with attention. Dale only hoped he could do the man justice. He hoped it would be enough to make up for the hurt he had caused his man that morning; enough to show him how much Dale loved and needed him. Grant gave and gave and put his entire being into making their relationship work, and it was time for Dale to give a little back. He hoped tonight he could show Grant his commitment to turning things around, to making up for a year of neglect with a show of love and support. He finished setting the table and rummaged through the junk drawer until he found a small box of matches. He knew better than to light the candles too soon, so he set 39
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them next to the candlesticks and looked quickly around the kitchen and dining room. Satisfied he had everything ready and in place for dinner, he quickly cleared away the boxes, bags, and packaging from the restaurant before heading back to the car for the rest of his purchases. He hurried to put them in the master bedroom. There he found the sheets were clean and fresh and the covers already turned down. Soft, red and white scented silk rose petals were sprinkled over the pillows and a bouquet of real red roses sat on the bedside table surrounded by more candles like the two he'd found in the kitchen. Stunned, he sat on the end of the bed and looked around the room. His assortment of floggers, whips, and other toys had been hauled out of the closet and set on the bedside table opposite the one with the flowers. Despite the way Dale had treated him that morning, and knowing he would likely have to wait up well past midnight for Dale to come home, Grant had still made preparations to make it a special evening for Dale, just as he'd suspected. Dale didn't deserve any of this; he didn't deserve Grant, and it boggled his mind to see just how much Grant loved him despite his many, many faults. Glancing back up to the head of their bed, he noticed Grant had even attached the shiny metal handcuffs 40
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to the bed frame, and his breath caught in his chest. While Grant always went along with Dale's sexual play and even seemed to enjoy some of the light bondage, Dale knew the handcuffs were something Grant only put up with for Dale's sake. The metal tended to chafe his wrists and forced him to wear long sleeves for a few days while his skin healed to avoid having to answer embarrassing questions. Looking down at the bags in his hands, Dale suddenly felt inadequate. The new sensation made his chest ache with feelings even more foreign to him than guilt or shame. How could he possibly make up for an entire year of insensitivity and neglect in just one night? It couldn't be done – no way, no how. The reality of the situation suddenly hit him with surprising clarity. He had a hell of a lot of work ahead of him if he wanted to build a real life with Grant. He took a deep breath and tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He could do this. Grant was worth the work, and his man's patience knew no limits. Anyone else would have bolted long ago, and rightly so. Glancing back at the handcuffs on the headboard, Dale smiled. He loved that Grant had thought of them, that his man was already prepared to be tied down tonight, because that was an important factor in Dale's plans. He just wouldn't be using the harsh metal cuffs. 41
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He dumped his bags out onto the bed and surveyed their contents. Right on top of the pile he found the long, soft, red silk scarves he'd purchased at his favorite sex shop. They would bind Grant's hands perfectly without chafing, and would allow him more mobility than the cuffs did. Special holes had been cut into the headboard of their bed specifically for the purpose of attaching the handcuffs, so Dale left them in place. He snapped the shackles closed and threaded the scarves through them, using them as anchors for the scarves. He fished through the pile on the bed and pulled out the strawberry flavored massage oil and lube, placing them on the table next to the flowers and the candles. The sex shop had been unbelievably crowded for a Thursday afternoon, but Dale had braved it anyway. He managed to keep his temper in check the entire time he spent weaving through embarrassed and indecisive shoppers. The entire city seemed to be going crazy with shows of love, affection, and romance, and Dale figured it had to be some kind of cabin fever thing or something. It had been a long winter, with no signs of spring even now, half way through February. He could understand the need to warm things up a bit with some romance and hot sex, but it surprised him the way everyone seemed to have the same 42
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idea all at once. Dale pushed away thoughts of everyone else, of everything else except his plans for Grant that night. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see it was already six o'clock. His lover would be home in half an hour. He needed to get a move on if he wanted everything ready when the man got home. He scooped up the rest of the items from the bed and hauled them into the bathroom. He'd bought several bottles of scented bath oils, salts, and bubble bath for a long soak after their lovemaking session. Dale looked forward to pampering his lover, to taking it slow and spending time together; to making love rather than simply rutting and nodding off afterward. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cuddled with Grant, or even just held him in his arms after sex. Tonight would be different. Tonight he would spoil and tease his lover, make slow, passionate love to the man and then spoil him some more. After setting the scene in the bathroom with more candles, Dale made quick work of cleaning up. When he went back into the bedroom he gathered up his box of sex toys and returned it to its shelf in the closet. Tonight was about Grant. He wanted to pamper his lover, please him and reward him for being such a wonderful and patient partner. Pain and punishment had no place in their bedroom 43
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tonight. Dale hurried back into the front of the house just in time to hear Grant's car pull into the driveway. He rushed into the kitchen to check on supper, pleased to find the food was ready to serve. He managed to turn off the oven and set the baking sheet on top of the range before he heard Grant's keys in the door. Dale left the food where it was, allowing it a moment to cool while he went to greet his lover. The door opened slowly and Grant pushed in with his back, his arms loaded with his school bags. Grant pushed the door closed softly with his foot and froze in place, breathing in deeply a few times before turning and meeting Dale's grin with a startled gaze, his mouth gaping open. Dale took the few steps necessary to reach him and kissed him, thrusting his tongue into Grant's open mouth. Grant whimpered softly before sucking on Dale's tongue and leaning into the kiss. After a few seconds, Dale reluctantly pulled back. Grant had his hands full, and Dale had a meal to serve. As much as he would love to simply jump the man's bones right then and there, he needed to stick to his plan. Dale stroked Grant's cheek and smiled down into his stunned eyes. "Welcome home, baby. Put your things away and get cleaned up. Supper is ready." Dale stepped away and made room for his lover to pass. 44
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Grant blinked back at him for a few moments before he nodded and carried his bags into the office. Dale was relieved when Grant went into hall bathroom to clean up. It would have spoiled the surprise if Grant had gone into the master suite and found the preparations he had made in the bedroom and the bathroom. While Grant washed up Dale got the food on the table and the candles lit. Finishing, he looked up to find Grant standing by the table, eying the food and the centerpiece with confusion, and maybe even a bit of suspicion. Dale smiled and poured wine into both their glasses before taking his seat. Grant followed suit, sitting down and pulling his chair up to the table before glancing back across the table at Dale. Dale smiled encouragingly at him and picked up his fork, spearing a bite of pasta and putting it in his mouth. Grant picked up his fork and poked at his plate. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, and Dale began to second guess himself. He'd wanted to please his lover, not scare him. The awkward silence that filled the room made the situation even worse, and Dale hated himself for not knowing how to break it. Grant took a gulp of his wine and set the glass back onto the table before breaking the silence. "This is quite a surprise Dale, thank you. I really thought you had a dinner 45
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appointment tonight. You sure had me going." He laughed self-deprecatingly and scooped up a bite of pasta, shoving it into his mouth and dropping his gaze back to his plate while he chewed. Dale set his fork down and reached across the table, grasping Grant's hand and twining their fingers together. Grant looked up, startled by the touch, and met Dale's gaze. Dale squeezed Grant's hand and smiled. "I did have an appointment tonight. I canceled it. I know I hurt you this morning and I'm sorry. I saw how upset you were when I told you I wouldn't be home tonight, and when I found that cookie in my bag… I just couldn't let you down again." Dale speared another bite of pasta and shoved it into his mouth. He'd said enough, and it wouldn't do to get all emotional in front of Grant. He wasn't ready to put himself in that vulnerable a position and risk appearing weak. "Thank you." Grant squeezed Dale's hand one more time before pulling his back, a genuine smile spreading across his face for the first time in a long time. Neither spoke again for the rest of the meal. Their eyes would meet across the table occasionally, and both would blush and grin foolishly at the other. The meal felt like a new beginning to Dale, like a first date or a maybe even a honeymoon. Before long, their plates were empty and once again 46
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the awkwardness returned. Dale didn't want that, so he stood and held his hand out to Grant. Grant took it and stood, bending over to blow out the candles on the table. Dale grabbed the matches and shoved them into his pocket while Grant reached for the dirty dishes. "Leave them." Dale slapped Grant's hand away, but he reached for them again. Dale stopped him again with a hand on his shoulder and grinned down at his bewildered expression. Before Grant had a chance to escape, Dale bent down and scooped the smaller man up, flinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's hold and carrying him out of the room. Grant let out a yelp of surprise, but his protests died away quickly. The younger man settled onto Dale's shoulder, grinding his erection into Dale's chest and grabbing at his ass, surprising Dale with his unusual boldness. In response, Dale smacked his lover's butt, eliciting a yelp and causing the grip on his own ass to tighten. Dale laughed and lengthened his strides, practically running the rest of the way to their bedroom. Once inside he let his lover down quickly, then pulled him into his arms and kissed him hard. When they pulled apart for air, Dale's lust tried to take over. He could feel Grant's excitement pressing into his thigh, and his own erection bordered on painful. It took 47
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all the concentration he had to remember his plans to seduce his lover. Pushing Grant away from him, Dale fumbled in his pockets for the matches. "Naked. Now," he ordered as he crossed the room to light the candles with shaking fingers. When the last wick caught he turned back to face Grant, who obediently stood naked by the side of the bed, waiting for further instructions. The man's downcast face and averted eyes caused Dale only a moment's regret. It wouldn't take Grant long to realize the order wasn't a prelude to another of their usual hurried sexual encounters. For the time being, though, Dale decided to go with it. It made sense for him to take charge the way he always did, allowing him to easily guide Grant to where he wanted him so he could tie the man down and love him. "Climb up on the bed." Dale kicked off his shoes and hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt. He shrugged out of it while he watched Grant climb up onto the center of the bed, positioning himself on his hands and knees with his legs spread wide. The picture his compliant lover made had his pulse racing, and Dale had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a groan. He made quick work of removing his belt, forcing himself to drop it to the floor and ignore the itch in his fingers and the burning desire to stripe his lover's pale skin with the supple leather. Instead he focused on 48
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opening his trousers and pushing them and his boxers to the floor at his feet. He pulled off his socks and then darted across the room to the bed empty-handed before he could change his mind. Dale climbed onto the bed beside Grant and put a hand on the small of his back, pressing him down gently. "Not yet, baby. Lay down for me; stretch your hands up above your head." Grant did as he was told, no hesitation and no questions asked. He reached for the cuffs and then audibly gasped, looking back over his shoulders at Dale when his hands tangled in the red scarves threaded through the metal handcuffs. "What? Why?" Grant tugged gently on the scarves, and Dale couldn't help grinning at the puzzled expression on his adorable face. Dale leaned over his lover, wrapping one of the scarves around Grant's wrist and securing it tightly before doing the same with the other. Once he had Grant bound, Dale sat back on his feet, watching Grant tug at his bindings to get used to them. The scarves had enough give that Grant would be able to roll over onto his back without any trouble, something the cuffs would never have allowed. Satisfied, Dale smiled and ran his hand soothingly up and down Grant's back. "I need to have you at my mercy tonight, baby, but I wanted you to be comfortable too. Are they okay?" Grant 49
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stopped his struggle with the scarves and wiggled his body so Dale's hand slid over his ass. "Perfect." Grant grinned and pressed his butt up against Dale's hand, trying to hurry him along. Dale responded by smacking his impatient lover's ass, hard, eliciting a startled gasp and leaving a red mark on the tender flesh. Dale cringed inwardly and smoothed his hand over the mark, then kissed it softly to soothe away the pain. He didn't want to go in that direction tonight; he'd intended to be sweet and caring. Grant of course didn't complain. In fact, he seemed to be grinding his groin against the sheets beneath him. Dale took that as a sign that he hadn't ruined the night, not yet. Reaching across his lover, he grabbed the massage oil from the bedside table and opened the lid. He then drizzled a generous amount over his lover's back, grinning as he watched Grant squirm from the unexpected cold liquid. Without giving him time to settle or adjust, Dale straddled his hips, sitting on the cushion of Grant's ass cheeks and bending over his back. "What are you doing?" The moaned question ended with a gasp, and Grant settled onto the mattress and sighed contentedly as Dale rubbed the scented oil into his back. Once that was done, Dale slid down Grant's legs, spreading them wide so he could settle between them. Grant moaned and raised his butt up off the mattress, but this time Dale 50
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ignored it. Instead, he reached for the oil again, pouring some into his hands before coating Grant's legs. He massaged the back of Grant's right thigh and then down his calf before concentrating on his right foot. Dale spent several minutes working the oil into Grant's foot, massaging each toe, the arch, and the heel. Before moving on to the other leg, Dale wrapped his lips around Grant's big toe and sucked. Grant writhed beneath him, moaning his name while the strawberry flavoring in the oil exploded over Dale's tongue. Deciding he hadn't yet tortured him enough, Dale moved to the other foot, giving it the same intense treatment before he worked his way back up Grant's other leg. When he finished with the left leg Dale set the oil aside and reached over to the bedside table again, this time grabbing the lube. The sound of the tube snapping open must have alerted Grant to the change in direction Dale was about to take, because he quickly scrambled up onto his knees, sticking his butt right up in Dale's face. Dale rewarded him with a kiss to each cheek, focusing for a moment on the red mark from earlier, before he pressed a slick finger between them and sought his lover's tight entrance. Dale would have liked to prolong the play, to tease Grant and torture him slowly with his fingers and mouth, 51
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but he found the situation too tempting. Having his finger inside Grant made him want more, and want it now. Dale didn't have the discipline for that kind of play, and so instead he moved quickly, adding a second and third finger as soon as he felt Grant relax enough to take them. Once he had the man stretched, he moved back, distancing himself and trying to steady his ragged breathing. "Turn over," Dale ordered, and rolled out of the way to give Grant room to comply. Grant whimpered, but did as Dale asked. Dale climbed back between Grant's legs and surveyed the body spread out before him. "Beautiful," he whispered. Reaching for the oil again, he opened the bottle and held it over Grant, pouring a small amount over the man's chest. Grant's pink nipples pebbled and he cried out while the cool liquid pooled in the hollow between his pectoral muscles. "Oh God, Dale, take me! Please take me!" Grant squeezed his eyes shut, his head thrashing back and forth on the pillow. He bent his legs and cradled Dale between them, pushing up with his heels to beg Dale to fill him. Dale ran his fingers over Grant's firm chest, twisting his nipples between his fingers before spreading the oil over his flat abdomen. Grant continued to writhe beneath him, crying out for more. Dale leaned over him and took a pebbled nipple 52
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between his teeth, biting down gently before suckling it between his lips. Grant began to thrust his erection against Dale's abdomen. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his cries were becoming incoherent. The only word Grant could understand anymore was please. The rhythm of Grant's hips became erratic and Dale finally decided to take pity on him, pulling away from his chest and sliding down between his legs. Dale settled himself on his elbows between Grants spread thighs and opened his mouth wide, engulfing Grant's cock between his lips and sucking gently on the length. Grant cried out Dale's name and would have shot up in the bed had the scarves not anchored his hands. Their resistance forced his upper body back onto the bed, and for a moment he lay on his back, silent but for his ragged pants for breath. Dale took advantage of Grant's momentary surprise and ran his tongue around the crown of Grant's dick before sliding his mouth down the length as far as he could and swallowing. Grant then recovered from his stupor and began thrusting up into Dale's mouth. "Dale. Damn, Dale. Good. So good, gonna…" Grant ended his speech with a whimper as he stilled, his cock throbbing against Dale's tongue and sending warm waves of his seed down the back of Dale's throat. 53
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Dale swallowed it all, moaning with appreciation at the sweet taste of his lover's release. When Grant's body relaxed and settled back on the mattress Dale gently licked his lover's dick clean before climbing back on top of him. "Damn, that was beautiful. You are so beautiful," Dale whispered against Grant's lips before claiming them in a fierce kiss. Grant moaned and opened to him, allowing Dale to press his tongue into his mouth and share his taste. Grant sucked greedily on Dale's tongue, whimpering and moaning while he wrapped his strong legs around Dale's waist. Dale felt Grant's heel rubbing along his crease, his legs tightening and releasing rhythmically while Grant pressed his ass against Dale's groin. Dale got the message and ended his assault on Grant's mouth, rearing back up and staring down at his incredible lover. Grant lay panting in front of him, his legs splayed wide with one still wrapped around Dale's hip, urging him forward. Dale grinned and reached for the lube, opening it and pouring some onto his fingers. "Don't worry, baby, I've got you. I've got you." Dale smoothed the lube over his erection and crawled back over Grant, putting his weight on one elbow while he positioned himself at Grant's entrance with his other hand. Grant bucked up against him, forcing the head of Dale's cock inside him. When Dale felt himself slip inside Grant's warm, 54
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welcoming body, there was no turning back. In one quick move he thrust home, burying himself as deeply inside his lover as he could. The joy that came from being wrapped tightly inside Grant's hot body consumed him, holding him in place while he braced himself over his lover’s body with both arms and stared down into his beautiful face. Grant began to move restlessly beneath him, pressing his hips up against Dale and tugging at the scarves that bound him to the bed. He averted his gaze from Dale's unmoving stare and squeezed his rectum tight around Dale's cock. Dale could easily see that Grant was agitated, that he seemed nervous and confused. This was nothing like any encounter they'd shared before. Typically Dale would pound into Grant as hard and as fast as he could, bringing himself to orgasm as quickly as possible so he could get the sleep he needed before he had to get up for work the next day. In the year they had spent together, Dale couldn't remember ever giving Grant a blow job, and intercourse between the two of them rarely ever happened face to face. Dale was freaking Grant out, and he didn't want that. He wanted to make this good for him. He needed to show the man he cared. Dale slowly lowered himself down onto his elbows, leaning forward to run his lips along Grant's brow. Pressing kisses to his beloved's face, he 55
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slowly pulled his hips back, and then, just as slowly, pressed them back down. He set up a slow, steady rhythm, accentuating each stroke in with a kiss to Grant's face and each pull out with a gentle bite against the man's tender skin. After a few minutes Dale noticed his kisses tasted salty, and he stopped his movements, pulling back to look down into Grant's troubled face. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his entire body shook with small tremors at the slightest shift of Dale's body against his. He watched Grant take a few gasping breaths before he began to sob. "Shit, Dale! What the fuck are you doing to me?" His lover's tortured cry wrenched Dale's heart. Pressing his face into Grant's neck, he tried to soothe the man, carding his fingers through his short hair and whispering soft shushing noises against his neck while his own tears began to fall. "Hush, baby, hush now. I'm loving you, baby, that's all. I'm loving you, okay? Let me love you? Let me?" Dale felt Grant nod his head before he whispered a reply. "Yeah, okay. Love me, Dale. Love me." Dale pulled back and kissed Grant hard before he resumed his steady thrusts, picking up the pace slightly and increasing the intensity of each thrust while he stared his lover in the eyes. 56
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Grant quickly looked away, but Dale wouldn't allow it. He maneuvered his head to follow Grant's gaze. "Look at me. Watch me love you." Grant nodded, the stream of tears never slowing down. Dale smiled and bent to kiss his cheeks, his chin, his nose...everywhere he could reach. "This is for you, baby. All for you. For being here for me. For fixing me breakfast. For packing my lunch. For cleaning up after me and taking care of me. For loving me. Thank you, baby. Thank you. Thank you." Each sentence was punctuated with a thrust more powerful than the last until Dale was pounding into Grant with his usual fervor...only this time fueled by the power of love. Grant's body went taut beneath him and Dale froze as his lover cried out, his joy spraying between them and coating both their stomachs with the force of his unexpected release. The look of ecstasy on Grant's face coupled with the grip of his ass as it clenched around Dale's cock pushed Dale over the edge into his own orgasm. He emptied himself inside his lover, staring in awe the entire time at the man he loved. Finally spent, Dale collapsed onto Grant, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and peppering his face with desperate kisses. "Thank you, baby. Love you. Love 57
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you so much." They stayed like that for several minutes, both trying to catch their breath and gather their wits about them. At last Dale recovered enough to release Grant's hands from their bindings. Once he had the man loose, he slid off him and cuddled up to his side, wrapping his arms around his waist and throwing one of his legs over Grant's. They lay tangled together for a few more minutes before Grant started to laugh, almost hysterically. Confused, Dale propped his head up on one hand and watched as Grant's laughter quickly morphed into another round of sobs. Dale rubbed his hand in soothing circles across Grant's chest and abdomen, waiting for him to calm down enough to speak his mind. Finally, the sobs became soft hiccups and Grant cuddled even closer against Dale. Dale didn't press him for an explanation; he just held him and waited. "You remembered," Grant finally said. "This morning I didn't know if you had forgotten about Valentine's Day or if you just didn't care, and I hated you for it! I hated you because I wanted to show you how much I love you and you were making it so hard! I had a bag packed, Dale. I packed a bag and called around until I found a place to stay, because I wasn't going to stick around if you didn't come home tonight, and then… and then this? God, Dale, this is the best Valentine's Day ever. I 58
Positive Reinforcement
Mathilde Watson
love you." Dale's heart had leapt into his throat. Grant was leaving him? Tonight? Then the rest of Grant's speech filtered through his brain and everything suddenly made sense. Glancing quickly at the alarm clock beside their bed, he checked the date: February 14th. Valentine's Day. The heart-shaped cookies, the bagel, the florists being out of roses, the crowded sex shop...suddenly it all fell into place and Dale laughed out loud with relief. Hugging his lover close, he said a prayer of thanks to whatever cupid had poked him in the ass that morning and encouraged him to offer Grant a little positive reinforcement. "I love you too baby, so much. Thank you for being here, for staying with me." Dale felt Grant nodding against his chest. "Thank you for coming home." Dale could tell Grant was settling down onto the mattress, ready to go to sleep the way they always did after sex. Remembering the dessert and the extra preparations he'd made in the bathroom, Dale grinned and rolled out of bed. Grabbing Grant's hand, he dragged him along, too. "Oh, no you don't, no sleeping for you yet. I'm not done loving you, baby. Not by a long shot." No, Dale wasn't anywhere near done. In fact, he planned on spending the rest of his life loving Grant and 59
Positive Reinforcement
Mathilde Watson
reinforcing their relationship with more positive and healthy experiences.
The End
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About the Author Mathilde Watson spent far too many years being practical, working multiple jobs and trying to worm her way into a steady career. Her dreams of writing and becoming a published author were put away because she foolishly listened to the adults in her life who insisted that writing was a frivolous hobby. Over the years she tried her hand at many different jobs, but the need to put her ideas on paper never went away. The sudden loss of her last job left her with a lot of time on her hands, and she found herself filling that time writing. One morning she endured yet another lecture on wasting her time with silly stories, and in a fit of rebellion she decided to take a chance and submit one of her stories to a publisher. She no longer believes in being practical or realistic.
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Also by Mathilde Watson
Available at Silver Publishing: AT PLAY Play Along
