††  Ellis  ††

Bored out of my head, I found myself at a party at a friend's home, Vincent's. I had slipped back into my routine as smoothly as a square peg in a round hole—awkwardly, with every part of me resisting the familiar motions.

And right now, I was downstairs in Vincent's brother's games room, and I had Sarah or Sandy, couldn't recall her name, draped over my lap. I pushed her off to get another drink. She shot me an irritated glare and muttered something under her breath. Ignoring her I reached for the bottle beside my foot.

Great. Empty.

"Beautiful," I said, injecting a hint of charm into my tone because let's face it, a little sweet talk got you a long way. "How about you go grab me another bottle of whiskey? But not that cheap shit that couldn't ignite a spark. You'll find the top-shelf bottles upstairs in Vincent's dad's study."

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. I knew exactly where the premium liquor was stored. That's if it wasn't being kept an eye on. Knowing Vincent he had but some kind of guard or Rottweiler on the door and would flip his shit if he caught wind of me sending her there.

But fuck it. The bottle I'd just emptied had left a nasty taste in my mouth and hadn't done shit to quieten my head.

She muttered some more curses something about not being a slave but swung her ass in her tight glitter dress as she sauntered off to do as I asked.

I looked over at the small table which had two lines of Coke just sitting there. Not mine and neither was the rolled-up hundred bill. But tonight it looked tempting and Sarah/Sandy wouldn't mind sharing.

And it might stop me thinking about London... them.

Or it might not.

I huffed shaking my head. That shit was risky, better sticking to weed.

But seriously, how long was I gonna feel this way? I mean what had it been... three weeks? I should be over it, right? Life had moved the fuck on. So why in the world was I still plagued with the what-ifs and confusion?

One of those what-ifs being, was it a mistake coming back home? At the time, maybe it was more about pride than anything else that made me leave. Because I didn't want to leave Sasha, or him if I was being honest. I hadn't been ready—hadn't figured shit out. Not to mention I'd let a guy fuck me... and not hated it.

Did it even matter what he'd done? He hadn't explained—not really, but then again, had I given him a chance to?

The familiar twist in my gust followed. 

Yeah, it did matter—or else I wouldn't still be pissed about it.

I wasn't on my own with my thoughts for long before Sarah or Sandy came back with my bottle. Glenfiddich... not bad I guess.

But what's this—no glass? You didn't drink good shit straight from the bottle. How did anyone not know this?

Rolling my eyes, she set it on the table within arms reach and then picked up the rolled-hundred and snorted a line and then with a sultry look she knelt between my legs. "Now for what I want," she said, her red nails walking a trail over my stomach to my belt. She undid it, unzipped my fly, and glanced up at me with a knowing grin.

Spreading my arms out along the backrest of the sofa. I had nothing better to do so I tried to relax and just watch.  

And you'd think I would love having my dick sucked and normally you'd be right, but these casual hook-ups did nothing but left me thinking... wishing it was someone else. Every time was a race to shoot as fast and hard as possible. Release was always physical. The aftermath was as empty as hell. No matter how many women, the ejaculation was always anti-climactic.

I was left wanting.

Wanting them.

And this time was no different as she wiped a hand across her mouth and looked up at me.

What? Was she expecting me to do, pat her on the head? Give her a gold star? 

I was being a jerk. It's not her fault. She's all kinds of pretty. It's me. It's like I'm incapable of feeling. My life had become a monochrome endless trail of hook-ups, even worse than before I went to London and the only reason my parents weren't on my back all the time giving me shit was I'd moved out and agreed to work for my dad and during the day I kept my shit together—barely. 

I stuffed my dick back into my pants and zipped myself up, just as the door opened and in popped a head of blonde hair, and I face I recognised.

Shit. It's her. Emma. 

I'd not seen her since that night of the graduation party.

Her eyes landed on me and then she pushed open the door and wandered in, all smiley and shit. Her eyes dropped on the woman and they obviously knew one another as Emma told her some guy named Flick was looking for her.

Poppy as I now discovered, huh, I'd not even been close, pushed to her feet and leaned over and dropped a kiss on my lips and asked me to call her.

Call her? Yeah, this side of never.

Emma watched her leave and then her eyes were back on me, wandering all over me, head to toe.

Was she on her own? "Where's your boyfriend?" I asked as I wasn't falling for the come meet my friend line again.

"Who—Jason?"

I nodded.

"Oh, He's not my boyfriend. He's not anyone's boyfriend."

Okay.

Whatever.

Emma kicked off her shoes and came closer. "I'm thinking she couldn't give you what you needed, huh?"

Her eyes fell onto my crotch and she's not wrong. I wasn't sure anyone could.

"You want it rough." It wasn't a question and she asked in a sweet voice that I couldn't put together with her words. "Be in control."

I'm betting, Emma here would let me spank her pink and hammer her doggy style until her legs caved.

My mind liked that idea, but not because of Emma here, no, it's Sasha that's always inside my head, under my skin, and if I closed my eyes I could at least pretend for a while.

But that was a stupid idea.  What I needed to do was purge Sasha from my head... and him.

I pushed up off the sofa and she wandered closer. And when close enough I sat my large hands on her hips and walked her backward to the door until her body hit it with a thump. Adrenalin surged through my veins. My flaccid cock jumped to life. Something drifted to the surface of my feelings, something within my grasp but so damn untouchable. Every time I tried reaching for it, it shifted a little farther into never.

Blinking away whatever feelings and thoughts that were trying to burst through I refocused on what was in front of me. What was on offer. Emma. 

She's pretty too, just like Poppy before her and I honed in on her wide eyes as I folded my fingers around her slim neck.

Blue, pale blue eyes stared back... pretty, but not memorable like Sasha's. "Fuck," I cursed and my mind wandered with my arousal shifting in the wrong direction.

"Yes," Emma gasped, dragging my attention back. She lifted her chin to give me better access.

I tightened my grip marginally.

"Yes, Ellis," she panted "Just like that. Do it harder."

And I did, allowing her just enough air not to choke, as my other hand ventured around back to grab her ass and squeezed hard whilst grinding my growing erection into the seem of her thighs.  But her eyes didn't dilate with anticipation or perverse excitement like Sasha's, truthfully her facial expression looked more like a practised mask. Like she'd done this a million times, which maybe she had? She hung around with Jason Bents... she was his pet.

Did she even want this with me? Or was I another game? Someone to pass the time with?

I let her go with a shove.

She took two steps to the side. "What's wrong, Ellis?"

"Nothing." I hitched a half-shoulder. "Just changed my mind."

"That's never happened to me before."

"Sorry to be the first. Don't take it personally."

"Is it Jason? Did you want him?"

What the fuck!?

"No," I snarled and her brow lifted. She thought I was lying.

"Do you want me to message him and ask him to come here or we can go meet him?"

What? Hell Nah. "No." He was the one that started all this shit. "Trust me. That's the last thing I want."

Honestly, I just wanted to be myself for a while. Thankfully, Emma seemed to pick up on my mood shift and slipped her shoes back on. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, sure." I dropped onto the sofa and grabbed the whisky from the table and fuck giving it any  respect as I guzzled some down enjoying the harsh burn singeing my insides.

Resting the bottle on my thigh I looked around the room and wondered why I was there and what the fuck was I doing?

Here's a thought, asshole. Go home.

I fished out my phone and swiping, Sasha's last message from over a week ago was staring at me.

I miss you. It read.  Please, talk to me, Ellis.

I missed her. Every day. It's the regret. Maybe I should have just let what happened slide and carried on with our little threesome. Everyone would have been happy.

But I didn't. I asked her to make a choice and she chose him so easily. I mean why wouldn't she? I treated her like shit growing up, so maybe I'd been fucking stupid to think she might like me.

And I didn't want to think about him either.

Or that switch he'd flipped on inside me that I didn't have a clue what to do with, apart from try and ignore it. Act Normal. Pretend it never fucking happened. 

Still, though, it didn't stop me jerking off to fantasies about fucking her while he watched. And him burying himself inside me and at the same time convincing myself I wasn't falling in love with her... or had feelings for him.

Now feeling even more frustrated, I deleted the message and called for a ride.

I dragged a hand down my face, realising I had a half-hour to wait. First order of business: a trip to the restroom. Pushing myself up from the sofa, I scanned the room and located the door. As I opened it, the light flickered on automatically, confirming it was indeed the restroom. While washing my hands, I dared to look at myself in the mirror, unsure of what I would find. Despite feeling bloated and dehydrated from the excesses of the past few weeks, I leaned in for a closer look. Nothing unusual stared back, I was meticulously groomed, a facade of normalcy concealing my inner chaos.

My head turned on hearing voices and giggling. I headed out to find a guy with a girl. They flinched when they noticed me standing there.

"Oh, sorry," the woman giggled, shifting closer to the guy.

"Don't mind me. I'm done in here. It's all yours," I said and grabbed my jacket and moved toward the door that they were blocking. I stood awkwardly waiting for them to move and I got the distinct feeling they were both checking me out.

"You're welcome to stay," the guy said and the woman nodded sucking on her lip enticingly.

I shook my head and offered up a polite smile. "Uh, maybe next time," I stammered as my skin started to flush with heat.

"Suit yourself." He shrugged, tugging the girl toward the sofa.  "Hey, man, this yours?"  

Turning around, He was pointing to the line of coke. "Help yourself." and clearing my throat, I got out of there and headed back upstairs to the party, but once there I realised I was surrounded by people that I had no interest in anymore.

Had they changed or was it me?

Glancing at the time, twenty minutes until my ride, so I weaved my way through people going toward the door, keeping my head down. I barely noticed the tall wall of man that stepped in front of me.

"Ellis Jenson."

It's a familiar deep voice and my head lifted.

He laughed, a silky dark timbre that hummed from his chest as his face cracked a cool, effortless smile.

Jason Bents was standing in front of me. Fucking-hell.

His head cocked to one side. "Emma messaged me."

My mouth was hanging open like a fucking idiot as I nodded. Jason Bents was someone you didn't forget. Least of all me.

"How've you been, Ellis?" My eyes lingered on the golden, tan skin of his arm under the black button-up shirt rolled to the elbows. "Ellis? You still with me?" He folded his arms in front of him, posturing with his shoulders back and chest out. It's a stance I now recognise. The posture of a Dom and I did my best to match it. Made sure he knew he wasn't the only Dom here.

But, fuck. He'd asked me a question but now my head was too wrapped by this sudden onslaught of that night, his game, and him now standing in front of me.

"I'm good." I finally answered and before he said anything else, he touched my elbow gesturing to the left and dumbly I followed.

He led us out an exit through one of the main rooms, into a garden. "Better out here."

"I've got a ride coming. I should head out front and wait."

"Cancel it," he said and I didn't miss it was a command, not a request.

And even more crazy I pulled out my phone and did exactly that.  What the fuck!?

I must be more drunk than I thought, but the fresh night air did help to clear the fog from my head a little as I stared at him.  "What are you doing here?"

There's that heavy chuckle of his again. "Here to see you," he says in a dark, ominous tone like there's more meaning there than he's giving me now.

"Why are you here, Ellis?" His heavy stare landed on my face as he scrutinised me.

"Vincents a long-time friend and I get bored easily, so here I am."

"Uh. Bored you say," he repeated as he pulled a rolled cigarette from his pocket. I watched his fingers as he lifted it to his mouth and flicked a lighter, the flame illuminating his dark eyes, and almost black irises. Then the smell hit me.

He's smoking pot.

He took another hit and then offered it to me and I took it with a small shake of my head. "I shouldn't."

"But you will," he said as his gaze now fixed on my face, and I started to feel a strange thud-thud in my ears. The pot hit my system, and the tension in my shoulders melted like ice cream.

"Here you are?" We both turned to see Emma walking our way but her eyes remained on Jason. "You found him."

Jason curled a piece of her hair behind her ear and she licked over lips in response. "Have you missed me, pet?" He took her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles in an intimate way.

"Always," she answered and I believed her. She looked at him in a way that she's not looked at me.

"I think I would like a drink." There's something about how he speaks to Emma, he's gentle which oddly stuck a nerve and I was pretty sure she would have dropped to her knees before he could utter the first syllable of "suck my dick" no matter the location.

"Let me get it for you. The usual?" she asked and he hummed.

"You want anything?" he asked me but before I could respond, he answered his own question. "Ellis would like a whisky. But not the poor man's kind. Ellis has refined tastes."

How the fuck did he know what I preferred? And why did he seem much older than his years?

"I left a bottle in the games room." Shit that couple was most likely fucking in there right now. Oh well, wasn't my problem.

Emma nodded and off she went with Jason's eyes trailing after her.

"She said your not her boyfriend, so what are you—her Dom?"

"That's right."

He took another hit of his joint and offered it to me again but I put up my hand. My head was having a hard enough time keeping up as it was.

My eyes tracked over to him again, and I fought the urge to pinch myself. This was fucking too weird. Or maybe it's just because I was high?

Whilst waiting for Emma he made small talk and I found myself telling him about London. Well, the job not Zack or Sasha. Weirdly, talking to him here didn't feel as uncomfortable as when I saw him at the party. He's different. Although it still felt like he was controlling the conversation. But it's strangely comfortable.

"You got a girlfriend, Ellis?"

Suddenly, a searing bolt of pain ripped through my chest, and her face flooded my head. It's as if there's an invisible string stretched across the Atlantic, binding her to me. But the truth was, she was never mine, not even for a moment.

"Nope."

He's looking at me now, expressionless and unassuming.

"Do you?" I asked to fill the silence. The air suddenly felt different—charged somehow. Was I missing something?

He didn't answer, just let out a low, gravelly chuckle.

And then Emma returned with two tumblers. I took a sip and yep, she got the good shit.

"Are we going to play, tonight?" she asked Jason looking up at him like he was some kind of god.

Then I felt Jason's eyes on me for a moment. There wasn't a hint of nerves in his stance but calm confidence as he soaked in my demeanour and shook his head at Emma. "Not tonight, pet."

"But—" she started to say then her mouth closed as if she remembered its not her place to question him.

"Ellis and I are catching up," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I think it's time you went home, Emma." And as he put the glass to his lips, he added, "I will see you tomorrow at the club. Eight sharp. Be ready."

He effectively just dismissed her and you would expect any normal woman to have a meltdown, but not Emma—his pet. She went up on her toes and kissed him and then smiled at me and left us alone.

"Drink up, Ellis," he said turning his attention back to me. "And then I will take you home."

What? And I spluttered into my drink.  What did he mean by take me home?

He laughed again and patted my back. "A ride home. I'm offering you a ride home, Ellis."