[ 16. Back In The Closet ]

I was hog-tied.

To give Hayes credit, I was throwing a bit of a tantrum about getting tied to the chair. I whined about how it hurt my ass and I was already sore—I may have been exaggerating a little—so I didn't want to make matters worse. He argued back for a minute before ultimately rolling his eyes and telling me he had an alternative option.

I would have taken the chair.

"Do you treat all your lovers like this, or am I getting special treatment?" I asked with my face down shoved into the carpet, wrists and ankles being tied together with more zip-ties. Hayes grunted as a response. "Oh, just me?"

He paused. "You're not my lover."

"My bad. Nondescript distractions," I corrected, wincing at the pain in my shoulders from being contorted like a goddamn pretzel. "This is fucking awful. I changed my mind. Give me the chair."

"Too late," Hayes muttered, stepping back and staring down at me as if he were admiring his work. I was still in just my boxers and T-shirt, but the wriggling had exposed my back and hips. "You could be in dirty magazines all tied up like that."

That caught me off guard. Despite literally getting railed by him the night before and listening to his filthy bedroom talk, I found it hard to believe that he was even attracted to me. For all I knew, I was just a warm hole for him to stick his dick into. My body nor face didn't need to look good for that. Hayes cleared his throat and turned away, retrieving something from across the room and coming back.

When he came back, that same bandana from last night was back. "No, please," I groaned. "I'll be quiet."

"And I'm the queen of England," he scoffed. "I'll wait until he's here to put it on."

He was literally sticking me in the closet in his bedroom. I was on the floor next to a pretty extensive sneaker collection, my head dangerously close to nosing the toe of some Nikes. Hayes took a seat in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're a sick man, Hayes Last-Name."

I watched him smile, small and radiant. "So I've heard before," he said. He had dressed himself, jeans and a Polo. He looked different from when he was following me around. More clean. More suburban. "Are you going to behave?"

He set himself up. "Do I get rewarded if I do?" I asked, glancing down at his lap. I could see it the moment he registered what I'd said. His eyes darkened and his left eyebrow perked in interest. So he did like the sex. "I'll be a good boy. Promise."

Hayes bit his cheek. Then there was a knock at the door and he straightened. "Hold still," he said, kneeling before me. I lifted my head, a difficult feat with my limbs tied behind my back.

The bandana was salty and immediately dried my tongue when he looped it around my mouth. His fingers smoother my hair down on the back of my head and knotted the bandana.

"Stay quiet and I'll think about it," he whispered, giving me one indecipherable look before standing to his full height, then shutting the closet door.

I took a deep breath, dropping my head to rest on the floor. He didn't say how long it'd take. I couldn't hear anything from the closet, at least not so far. It was the most uncomfortable I'd ever been in my life, just because of the ties. I couldn't move except to flop onto my side, which killed my shoulder, but it was better than digging my chin into the ground. I stared into the darkness, waiting. Listening.

There were two distinctly different male voices. Hayes, obviously, and a gruffer, more aged one. They were chatting but it was so muffled, I couldn't make out a word until they were closer.

So this was what my life had come to.

I couldn't say I was surprised. Really. Nothing had ever really gone according to plan in my life. When I was a dick and shut everyone out and hardly spared a glance for someone in need, I was burned. And when I tried with all my might to do better by people that deserved it, I got a bounty on my head.

Maybe I should have done therapy when I had the chance. Or settled down and started a family. Or gone to college.

I was so fucked up. Who gets stalked and kidnapped and their first instinct is, 'Hot, let's fuck?' Granted, Hayes was hotter than your average Bike Path Killer, but—Yeah, that's the kind of fucked up-ness I was referring to.

Footsteps from the hallway grew louder and nearer and I held my breath, trying to hear what was being said.

"So you know my plan for built-ins around the window in here, but I was also thinking about some electrical work. I wanna rip out the ceiling fan and put in—"

They might have been in the room next to the bathroom that I hadn't seen. I could hear them pretty clearly, though it was seemingly very boring. I closed my eyes and just focused on breathing through my nose, biting down on the dingy bandana numbly. I hoped this was just a sort of consultation visit instead of anything actually getting done because I did not want to be in this closet all day. Hayes and the man kept talking about dimmers and shelving and wood grains and I was going to fall asleep.

"Oh, didn't you say something about a closet reno in your room?" the stranger's voice was much closer now. I could practically feel the panic prickling off of Hayes.

"It was just an idea. I'm not worried about it today," he said quickly. He sounded like he was standing in front of the closet and I could vaguely see the shadows of his feet beneath the crack of the door.

I considered screaming through the bandana since they were clearly both right there. What would happen then? Would the man demand to see what was in the closet, find me, and call the police? Or would he side with Hayes, sure he knew what he was doing and let us be? Either sounded like terrible scenarios.

The man coughed. "Alright. I think everything's pretty doable in the next few months. Can probably finish by January if you get the supplies next week," he said, sounding nothing like a typical blue collar New Yorker. If anything, he seemed to have that same drawl I recognized on Hayes. Even thicker. "Jake's been asking about you."

Holy shit, was I about to get some Hayes lore?

"I've been trying to find time to go see him, Dave," Hayes said, sounding considerably more uncomfortable.

It was quiet for a moment, then the man spoke again. "I know it's on your dime and, really, man, I'm thankful for everything. But I can't be the only one he sees. I can see how sad he is when he thinks you're on your way," Dave sighed. "If I'd known how lonely he'd be here, we would have stayed in Memphis. At least he'd have more family... and his mom."

"His mom doesn't give a shit," Hayes snapped suddenly, his voice louder and making me jump. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm... I'm dealing with some work stuff right now and I can't talk about this. I promise, once I finish this job, we'll go back to weekends."

I was the job he had to finish.

"Alright," Dave said quietly. "I'm not going to tell him, though."

"Fair enough."

They seemed to be speaking with their eyes because the tension was still lingering. Eventually, they went back to talking about the home projects and left the room, leaving me to think about the million questions I was going to shoot Hayes with when I was freed from the closet. He wasn't going to like it. I could tell it was a sore subject, definitely something I wasn't supposed to hear.

Another extended space of time dragged on and my eyes closed. I had nothing else to do, so I was going to allow myself to succumb to a little floor nap.

But then the closet door opened, making me jump.

Light flooded in and I closed my eyes again. Hayes dropped to his knees before me and fiddled with the knot of the bandana. When I looked up, he looked tense. Even after he removed the bandana, I kept my mouth shut other than to wet my lips with my tongue, and he looked taken aback.

"Thought you'd bomb me with shit talk."

I tried to shrug, but couldn't with the state of my shoulders. "Tired," I said honestly. Being tied up like a roasted pig and stuffed into a bedroom closet took its toll.

"Huh," Hayes mumbled thoughtfully, "thought you'd be game for your reward since you behaved so well."

That woke me right up. He chuckled, deep and low in his throat, sending chills down my contorted spine. He pulled his knife out of his pocket, but hesitated.

"I almost want to leave you like this," he admitted. "You look mad sexy. Ready to be used."

My body heated with arousal, but I literally could not stay in this position. I could handle the unbearable edging kink. The choking, the biting. I could even deal with being tied back to the bed. But this was too much. It was too far out of my comfort zone. Hayes seemed to notice the panic behind my eyes because he cut them one by one. When my ankles were freed and fell to the floor with a thud, he left my wrists behind my back.

"On the bed, feet on the floor."

He helped me stand. My jaw was sore from leaning on the carpet, rubbed raw and likely pink. The tops of my thighs all the way to my toes felt like jello, sore and wobbly. Hayes had to hold me up until I got to the bed and followed his instructions.

It was ten steps above laying on the ground and I sighed in relief when my body hit the mattress. I spread my legs ever so, tip-toes grazing the floor. He stepped behind me and I could hear the metallic ching of his belt buckle, then the sound of his jeans shimmying down his legs.

Then there he was. His warmth shrouded my body. I could feel his cock pressed against my ass, slotting perfectly between my cheeks with only two layers of cotton separating us.

Hayes jutted his hips down, grinding slow. "Is this what you want, Vinnie?" he asked and I let out the breath I was holding. He did it again. "Go on, tell me."

"Yes," I choked out against the mattress. Instinctively, I tugged at my wrists so I could push myself up and meet his hips with equal pressure, but the zip-ties left me no freedom. "Please untie me this time."

He grabbed my wrists and ground his hips down onto my ass, making me moan out loud. "Why should I?" he asked, then dropped close to my ear. "You'll have to earn it first."

Hayes pulled off of me and told me to get on my knees on the floor. I scrambled to obey, nearly tripping over myself. When I looked up at him, he was sliding the Polo off, leaving himself in just his briefs, package tenting in front of my face. I didn't think before I nudged my face into his clothed crotch, nuzzling his erect cock with my lips parted.

He laughed again, slipping his briefs down so I was met with his monster dick. I wasted no time, opening my mouth and swallowing the head. I glanced upward and Hayes looked caught off guard, his hands touching his chest as if he didn't know what to do with them. When our eyes met, he made up his mind.

One hand sunk into the messy blonde roots on my head, the other fell under my chin. I closed my eyes, anticipating the face-fuck, but he didn't move. "Look at me," he demanded. My eyes flew open, finding his bewildered expression and then I was being choked with cock. "Good boy. Take it."

I moaned around his cock, arched my back, and furrowed my eyebrows at the intensity of it. I choked almost immediately. He gave me a moment to catch my breath before going back in.

"You want it in your ass that bad?" he asked, the words going straight to my twitching cock. He tutted deviously. He was no longer deepthroating me, but I didn't stop there. I held my gaze onto his darkened brown eyes and kept sliding his slick cock down my throat. "You're killing me. Get up."

Boy, was I in for a treat.