Broken Boy: A Dark Gay Menage Romance Page 3

  There was something in the rough man's tone that evoked a response deep inside Aiden. Something like arousal, but greater than that. Longing. Need. He pushed the feelings away as quickly as he could, utterly uncomfortable with them. He didn't need anyone, definitely not Muscles and not Rob either.

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” Aiden growled. “Or I'll...”

  “What?” Muscles smirked down at him from his great bestial height.

  “I'll kick your fucking ass.” Aiden hated the way his voice shook.

  “Settle down, boy,” Steve growled. “You'll only hurt yourself.”

  “Fuck you. I'll hurt you,” Aiden scowled.

  Steve let out a mirthless laugh which told Aiden precisely what he thought of the threat.

  “Let me go,” Aiden insisted, uselessly. He was about fifty pounds lighter than either one of them, and had absolutely no condition on him. That wasn't going to stop him from trying to escape. He walked toward Steve, willing him to get out of the way. A second later, he bounced off the wall of a man and ricocheted back into Rob's arms.

  “Cut your shit out,” the muscled monster growled. “You're staying here because if you leave this place, one of Cornoli's men will find you in days, if not hours. There's a bounty on your head, boy.”

  “Just let me go!” Aiden heard his voice break and felt shameful tears leap to his eyes. He blinked them back, refusing to cry in front of this man. He was so damn frustrated he couldn't stand it. “I don't care if they kill me, do you get it? It doesn't matter! I'm fucking worthless anyway, so just let me go!”

  “No.”

  “You're not worthless,” Steve rumbled. “Not to Mason, and not to your sister.”

  Aiden blinked and cocked his head back. These guys seemed to know way too much about Ellie. “Why does her name keep coming out of your mouth?”

  “She's the reason we're here. A couple of Cornoli's goons tried to shake her down. Mason saved her before they really got started.”

  Suddenly suffused with pure rage, Aiden tried to burst past Steve, only to be caught in the monster's arms.

  “Let me fucking go! I'll fucking kill him!” He growled, his naked form pressed against Steve's jeans, his cock rubbing against the bigger man's leg. Steve didn't seem to notice, and Aiden was too angry to.

  “She's safe. She's with Mason,” Steve repeated, grabbing his arm before he tried a flailing punch. “And you're with us. So just settle down, okay?”

  “That asshole went after my fucking sister!” Aiden screamed in Steve's face.

  “That's what these guys do.”

  “She doesn't know anything! She's not connected.”

  “She's connected to you, and that's enough.”

  “Let me go. Give me a gun.”

  “Ha. No.”

  “They went for my sister!”

  “She's fine,” Steve repeated. “She's with Mason. There's nothing for you to worry about.”

  “What the fuck? Of course there's something for me to worry about. They came for my family!” Aiden didn't understand why they were expecting him to be calm when he'd just found out that his sweet little sister was being held because some asshole mobster had tried to hurt her. Why the hell didn't they understand?

  “Settle down, or I'll settle you down,” Steve insisted.

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  The large arm that had been around his waist moved away, then returned, the bodyguard's hard palm finding his ass in a hard slap. Aiden screamed as pain burst across his butt. It might just have been a slap, but it fucking hurt, jolting him against Steve's hard thigh.

  “You need another one of those, or are you going to calm down, boy?”

  “Let me fucking… OW!”

  Aiden screeched as another hard slap found his ass, whacking him against Steve's leg again.

  “Stop it!”

  Steve's palm landed for a third time, blasting across his butt with infernal fury.

  “Fucking stop!”

  “I'm slapping your butt,” Steve growled. “There's guys out there who want to maim, torture and kill you, and you can't handle some heat in your ass?”

  “That's enough, Steve.”

  Rob's voice came from behind, deep and decisive. To Aiden's immense relief, Steve did actually stop. Instead of whipping him, he grabbed both his arms and held him in place, making movement impossible.

  “I'm going to get you something to wear,” Rob said, slipping past him as Aiden and Muscles stared one another down in a battle of wills Aiden knew he was going to lose. His ass was burning, but he didn't want Steve to know how badly. It was hard to meet the man's gaze though. He had a damn hard stare, one that beat the Taylor-Chapman imperial sneer any day.

  Aiden was glad when Rob came back with some clothes and gave him an excuse to back down. His relief at getting dressed was short lived though. Rob was the smaller of the two men, but wearing his jeans and sweatshirt, Aiden felt like the boy they called him. He was utterly swimming in them both, and even a belt couldn't keep the pants up. His physique had taken something of a hit over the past years, and he'd never been a tall guy to begin with.

  “We'll get you something that fits soon,” Rob assured him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. “And don't worry, okay? You're in good hands and so is she. We've never lost a client.”

  What choice did Aiden have but to accept the situation? He couldn’t fight these guys, not in his state. Looking like he'd been playing dress up in Rob's wardrobe was the least of Aiden's concerns. The withdrawals were really starting to bite and even inside the oversized sweater and in the heated room, he was soon shivering.

  He ended up curled up on the living room couch, looking out at the skyline. Rob draped a blanket over him and fetched him a couple of Advil. Advil! As if that was what he needed. Aiden had a good mind to throw them away, but any drugs were better than no drugs, he figured.

  Muscles was far less sympathetic. No, scratch that, Muscles seemed outright disgusted by him. Aiden could practically feel the man's loathing as he did his best to keep his distance. That was fine. In fact, that would probably work out just fine. Rob had to go to sleep sooner or later, he'd heard him talking about going to take a nap. When he did, Aiden was 99% sure Muscles wouldn't be keeping as careful an eye on him. That's when he'd skip out of here. Until then, he was going to play it cool.

  He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the back of the couch. Thanks to the asshole with the hand like iron, everything fucking hurt, but it wouldn't for much longer.

  9

  STEVE

  Steve kept a dispassionate eye on their client from across the room. A small part of him was feeling a little bit sorry for Aiden. The guy was in a shit situation, and at least he had some kind of honorable impulse to go help his sister. Smacking his bratty little ass had felt good though. Steve had really needed to do that. If Rob hadn't intervened, he would have given Aiden what he really needed – a good, long, hard spanking.

  With Aiden settled on the couch. Steve sat at the kitchen table, his fingers running over his smart phone as he read the crime section of the local paper. His chair was positioned to give him a clear line of sight both to Aiden, and the front door and his back was protected by a wall. Steve did nothing by accident and left nothing to chance. As soon as Rob had gone to get some rest, he'd gone around and closed all the curtains. Never knew who was out there with binoculars.

  An unpleasant squeaking sound from across the room made him raise his head. Aiden had raised himself from his concerted sulk and was rocking back and forth on the couch, breathing fast. The blanket had fallen off him and even at some distance, Steve could see that his skin was clammy and pale, his pupils were dilated and those baby blue eyes were wild.

  With a short curse under his breath, he got up and went over to the couch, crouching down in front of it. Aiden might be a little shit, but he was his client and Steve didn't want him to suffer more than he needed to.

  “Okay, easy,” he s
aid, putting a hand on Aiden's shoulder. “Stretch out a little, let yourself breathe.”

  “Fuck... I can't...”

  “Breathe,” Steve repeated, taking Aiden's hand in his. He wasn't the comforting type as a general rule, but Aiden needed somebody right now, and Rob was getting some much needed rest. They'd been up for twenty four hours straight looking for, then catching and containing this kid and Rob had been starting to look worse for wear. Steve knew he could handle this on his own.

  “I'm dying!” Aiden clutched at him, his face contorted with real fear.

  “You're not dying,” Steve said calmly. “You're panicking. You need to breathe.”

  “I can't!”

  He could, because he was talking. He just didn't know he could. Steve had seen plenty of freakouts in his time, especially in the early days of his military training. They could hit anyone anytime, even the most hardcore guys sometimes fell prey.

  “What color are the cupboards?”

  “Huh? What?”

  “The kitchen cupboards,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm. “What color are they?”

  “White,” Aiden said, looking confused.

  “Good, and the carpet. What color is it?”

  “Brown,” Aiden replied in shaky tones. “Why are you...”

  “Just answer me,” Steve said, giving his sweaty hand a squeeze. “What color is my shirt?”

  Aiden's eyes dropped to his chest. His breathing didn't slow any, but some color came into his cheeks. “Uhm. Tight.”

  “Tight isn't a color,” Steve said, cracking a smile. Okay, maybe Aiden could be a little charming in his own way. Maybe he'd clean up alright once he was done sweating and being sick.

  “Sorry,” Aiden said, lifting his eyes to Steve's. “Just the first thing I noticed.”

  An undeniable spark of attraction zipped between them. If Aiden weren't a snotty little junkie boy, he would have been Steve's type. Aiden was short and had pretty features for a man. Those baby blue eyes were so expressive, and there was a certain cocky vulnerability about him that both attracted and irritated Steve in equal measure. There was no way Aiden could know it, but he was triggering Steve's most primal and dark impulses. Steve liked to dominate. More than that, he liked to own. Weren't many guys out there into that sort of thing, so he kept his desires reined in most of the time, but this boy was going to be in trouble if he didn't watch out.

  “I feel a bit better,” Aiden said, sitting back, his hand still in Steve's. “How did you do that?”

  “They're called grounding exercises,” Steve explained. “When you start to feel like that, start looking around and noticing things. The way your clothes feel between your fingers, the color of a glass, how the wind sounds. They help calm things down.”

  “I know what else would calm things down,” Aiden said, a devious look coming into his eye.

  “No,” Steve growled firmly. “You are not getting drugs.”

  Aiden yanked his hand away as a petulant look established itself on his features. “Yes I am, and you can't stop me.”

  It took everything Steve had in that moment not to grab him, upend him and spank his deserving ass long and hard with his belt. Rob wouldn't approve, because Aiden was sick. He wouldn't be sick forever though, and when he was better, he was going to have to watch out.

  Steve stood up without another word and moved back to the table. Aiden pulled the blanket back over himself and curled up in a furious but silent sulk. Steve felt the muscle in his jaw twitching as he returned to his phone and the crime reports. That boy was pure trouble incarnate.

  10

  ROB

  Finally.

  Eight hours sleep.

  He'd needed every bit of it.

  After waking up, Rob staggered out of bed and went to get some coffee. He found Steve exactly where he left him, sitting at the kitchen table, smart phone in his hand. Aiden was in a similar place, sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep.

  Rob was surprised by the peace of the scene. He'd almost expected to come out to find that Steve had devoured their client.

  “Hey,” Rob said, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “How has he been?”

  “Fine,” Steve said. “I didn't beat him.”

  “Good,” Rob smiled, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “I'm pretty sure Mason didn't say anything about whipping his ass.”

  “He didn't say anything about not doing it either.”

  Rob walked over as quietly as possible and took a look at Aiden. He was looking a bit better. His color was better for sure.

  “He's kind of cute when he's sleeping, huh?”

  “He's cute whenever he can't talk,” Steve growled as he stood up, his voice low to stop Aiden from waking. “I'm going to bed.”

  “Hold on.”

  Rob reached out and grabbed Steve's hand, swinging the larger man around.

  “What?” Steve's cheek dimpled with a smile.

  “You know what,” Rob said, lifting his brow. “You were a bad boy yesterday. You physically disciplined a client.”

  “Uh huh,” Steve grinned. “Jealous, Rob?”

  “Nope,” Rob said, shaking his head. “Just keep your head about you. Whacking his ass is one thing, but one thing can lead to another and I don't want you getting carried away.”

  Steve shook his head with a smile. “If I get carried away, you'll be the first to know, sweetheart.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving Rob smiling after him. They were both gay men. Well, not strictly gold star. They'd both enjoyed female company, sometimes even at the same time, but they were both tops, so their mutual love, respect, and even attraction rarely blossomed into anything more intimate. With Aiden in the mix, things could get messy. That boy was a bottom if ever Rob had seen one – and oh what a bottom he had.

  Watching Steve's palm paint the boy's ass red had been stimulating as hell. He could have watched that for hours, but professionalism required him to cut Steve's impulses short. Aiden probably did need a beating or two, but not now. Right now he needed a little TLC. As spoiled and privileged as he obviously was, he didn't strike Rob as someone who knew how to accept care. Hopefully, in time, he'd learn.

  11

  AIDEN

  The next five or so days weren't fun. Aiden got a little better every day, and he got a lot more frustrated too. The withdrawals were soon over, but the habit remained. Even he would have admitted that he could be a very petulant little junkie boy if anyone had asked him, but they didn't. Nobody cared what he thought, what he wanted, what he said. Demands didn't work. Threats didn't work. Trying to leave just got him tossed into his room and left there for hours at a time as he raged, helpless as an animal in a cage.

  For the most part though, they just ignored his bad behavior, his constant requests to go out, his stomping and even his shouting at times.

  Aiden knew he was playing a bit of a dangerous game. He hadn't forgotten how Steve had whacked his ass, but Rob seemed to have Steve on a leash now, much to his pleasure and Aiden was pretty sure his butt was now off limits. It was one of the very few fun things he could do, taunting the great big muscled bodyguard only to have him snarl and snap but do nothing at all.

  On the seventh day, Aiden showed them both what he was really made of. As usual, the argument started over him being able to leave the apartment or not. They said not. Actually, Rob said not. Steve was resting up a bit while Rob took his turn to play jailer.

  “I'm going out.”

  “No, you're not,” Rob said, barely bothering to look up from his newspaper. It wasn't fair at all. They got to go out. They both went out once a day. Only Aiden never got to leave, and that was really beginning to grate on his last nerve. The apartment wasn't that large and cabin fever was starting to set in bad. If he didn't get out soon, he was pretty sure he was going to go legit crazy.

  “I'm not your fucking prisoner!”

  Rob ignored him entirely.

  Furious, Aiden started looking for some way to force
his freedom. Fuck these guys. They had no right to do this. None at all. He was a free man, and this was kidnapping. If they weren't going to let him out of this place, then he was gong to fucking destroy this place.

  He happened to have just finished his cereal. The bowl was right there, still with a bit of milk and a few stray flakes at the bottom. He grabbed it and threw it as hard as he could, smashing it against the kitchen wall with a satisfying shatter of ceramic and milk arcs.

  Rob sat there, looking unimpressed as Steve came bolting in, gun drawn.

  “What the hell is going on here?” He demanded at the top of his voice.

  “Aiden's throwing a temper tantrum,” Rob said coldly.

  Aiden smirked at them both. “I'm going to do a lot more too, if you don't let me do what I want to do.”

  Steve looked at Rob. “Now? Please?” He sounded like a pitbull whining at the end of a chain.

  Rob gave a little shrug. “Go ahead.”

  Aiden's sense of triumph faded fast as Steve put the gun down and advanced on him with a very unpleasant smile on his face.

  “No! Get your fucking hands off me!”

  It was too late. Steve had him and was dragging him across to the couch. He pushed him over the back of it and Aiden heard his belt coming out of its loops. What the fuck was happening? Steve's big paw wrenched down the oversized jeans, leaving Aiden butt naked. And then the belt came down, a hard lash sweeping through the air before making harsh contact with the dead center of Aiden's cheeks.

  “Spoiled little boy,” Steve growled. “This is what happens when you throw a fit.”

  It hurt like fucking hell. More than the pain, was the pure shock. He was being held down and beaten. His ass was taking stroke after stroke of a leather belt that bit his soft skin and blasted sensation right through his body. There wasn't a single part of him that wasn't feeling Steve's discipline as the bodyguard lashed the belt through the air over and over, finding every soft sensitive un-thrashed part of Aiden's rear and marking it with searing hurt.