Saddled, chapter 23 (Patreon)

John swiped the card in the door lock and waited for the distinctive click before he pushed the door open. At first glance, the suite appeared larger than John’s house, and it definitely cost more. Dark hardwood floors and a view of Boston Harbor practically screamed money. Elena felt more guilt than John had thought.

And John was going to have to suffer for it because he hated the modern, gray furniture, the abstract art, and the weird orange chairs and pillows. John’s bare feet slapped the cool floor. At least the place catered to the rich, which meant they overlooked any weirdness committed by people on their top floors. Other than offering him a coupon for a free pedicure, the front desk hadn’t even blinked at John’s lack of shoes, bedraggled appearance, or worn duffle bag—at least not after learning he had a suite booked.

When John turned the corner into a dining room, he spotted Clive Davidson sitting on a bench and staring out at the city. The sight of Davidson casually leaning against the window short circuited John’s disbelief at finding a dining table and wet bar in a hotel room.

“Mr. Davidson.” John stopped when the man turned. There wasn’t anything else John could say, although if Davidson wanted to play some sexual game right now, he would find a few choice words. He assumed this was more likely to have to do with the kidnapping, though. He wasn’t prepared to talk about that yet, so he kept right on walking toward the bar area. Hopefully the refrigerator would have something non-alcoholic.

Davidson followed John into the wet bar area. “You can call me Clive.”

“I could,” John said dryly. He opened the fridge and grabbed the world’s tiniest bottle of water. Thank God the prices weren’t listed because he wouldn’t be able to justify drinking it if he knew how much it cost.

“Are you okay?”

John drained the water before turning to face Davidson. “I’m alive, but I didn’t sleep much, so whatever you’re going to say, say it.” John wasn’t used to the hesitation he saw in Davidson’s expression, and he didn’t like it. Davidson was changing the rules on their relationship, and it made John anxious. After his night, he didn’t want more stress.

After a few awkward seconds, Davidson cleared his throat and said, “I’m grateful Elena got to you in time.”

John raised his eyebrows. “So grateful you broke into my hotel room?” he asked, although he doubted it had been illegal entry as much as Elena giving Davidson a card. John would ask for it back, but he wasn’t sure how to handle it if Davidson refused. He was still a client, and John’s sponsor. He supposed that required a certain level of politeness. Unfortunately, John had used all that up and he was left with a full ton of aggravation, irritation, and bad attitude.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“I don’t need your help, and unless you’re paying, you don’t get to worry about me.”

“If you think I’m going to apologize, don’t hold your breath,” Davidson said, his voice flat. “I didn’t feel guilty about using your need for money to manipulate you into spreading your legs, and I’m not going to feel guilty because I had the audacity to give a shit and come check on you.” Davidson crossed his arms.

John put the empty water bottle aside and took a step closer. “Strange. One of those had my consent and the other didn’t. I assumed you were interested in consent.”

Davidson stared at him. They both stood motionless, although John had to keep a hand on the counter to avoid swaying slight. Davidson looked far more composed. Eventually he tilted his head in a mocking bow. “Touché.”

Suddenly John was exhausted. He turned his back and headed for the nearest set of doors. He didn’t know if it was a bedroom or a bathroom, or even which one he wanted to find. He did need to pee, but he was so tired he was fairly sure he would fall asleep on the toilet. “You can leave now,” John said.

“Actually, I can’t. You have to know the cover story.”

John opened the door to palatial bathroom with no toilet. John supposed he was going to have to keep opening doors to find one, although he did not understand why people put a separate room inside the bathroom just to hide the toilet. “I went up to Lords Cove to help look for kids,” he said. At this point, he didn’t want to know more. He just wanted to piss and then sleep for a month. He opened another door and found the toilet.

Davidson caught the door before it closed and stood in the opening. “How old were the missing children? Where were they found?” Davidson asked. John hesitated, but Davidson was paying a retainer to secure his right to fuck John on a regular basis, so modesty seemed a little pointless. So John opened his pants and aimed at the toilet. Davidson spoke over the sound of piss hitting the water. “You aren’t stupid, so you can stop pretending.”

John glanced over his shoulder. “I can look it up on the news since that’s what Logan probably did.” He finished peeing and shook off the remaining drops.

“And the details of the story I gave Logan? Where are you going to find those?” Davidson took a step back to allow John out of the bathroom, which faintly surprised John. He’d half expected Davidson to take advantage of the close quarters. Hell, at this point John was too tired to argue.

He moved to the double sink and washed his hands. He then washed his arms and his face. He gave the huge bathtub one thought, but he would probably fall asleep and drown in it. “Fine. I do need some information,” he admitted as he headed back out into the dining room. “You can email me and I will read it when I wake up from a very long nap.” He found the bed behind the next set of doors he opened.

Detouring around the bedroom’s seating area, he went to the bed an collapsed face down on the white cover.

“Or we can talk,” Davidson said.

John groaned into the mattress. Pushing himself up onto one side, he glared at Davidson who had planted himself in one of the life vest orange chairs. “I don’t want to talk. When you have a free weekend, call me and I can promise that you’re going to get a wild stallion. I will put everything I have into cheerfully kicking you to death.” And John meant it. Davidson had left annoying behind and was coming up on obsessive.

“I have no interest in playing when you’re this angry,” Davidson said.

Dull horror filled John as he realized he had just lost his one steady paycheck. Paying the hospital bill had just become far more difficult, and Elena was going to kill him, but all of that seemed far less significant after having a gun shoved in his face. He sat up on the end of the bed. “Then have Elena cancel the contract.”

Davidson went silent and frowned at John as if he’d said something particularly confusing. “I have no interest in canceling our contract.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but John wasn’t tracking this conversation well. “What the hell are you suggesting?”

“Right now? Nothing. You seem entirely too tired to be having any meaningful conversation. However, you need to know about my conversation with your brother, and I can’t promise that Logan won’t come breaking this door down the second he figures out you’re here.”

“Are you going to cancel the retainer?” John asked since that was the one part of this conversation he actually cared about.

Davidson huffed. “No.”

“What the hell are you planning, then?” John needed short sentences and monosyllabic words at this point.

“I plan to call my secretary to bring my laptop and work out of the second bedroom. I’m starting to worry that you have concussion and shouldn’t be left alone.”

“Stop the fucking games and tell me what you want out of this contract!” John snapped. He immediately regretted it since this was not the way to keep a client, and it sounded like Davidson might be willing to continue paying.

Davidson opened his mouth, and then closed it and took a deep breath. “Nothing,” he finally said. “I don’t want anything. You continue practicing your walking, and we can discuss any contract once you’ve calmed down and gotten some sleep. I’ll wait in the living room and make sure your brother doesn’t storm the castle.” Davidson stood as if to leave and park in the damn sitting room. Elena had twisted him around until he was doing her dirty business, probably because John was less likely to curse him out.

“You pushed into my life because Elena manipulated you into it. You hired a whore, not a boyfriend and now we’re both stuck in this weird territory with no call sheet and no rules, so if you want to discuss the contract, I’d rather do it now,” John said.

Of course Davidson ignored the important part of that and said softly, “Elena didn’t manipulate me.”

John closed his eyes. God save him from alphas who refused to admit they’d gotten played by a woman—by a middle-aged fat woman who never quite lost her accent. “Of course she didn’t,” he said sarcastically.

“She had a plan for dealing with Robinson, and I agreed with it. The boyfriend ruse was the best way to throw your brother off the scent and get Elena some wiggle room to work. Now, I understand that you are uncomfortable with the idea that I had a meaningful conversation with your brother. By the way, he’s a bit of an asshole.”

John shrugged. “I know that, but you don’t get to call him one.”

“Then he should probably stop assuming he gets to police other people’s sexuality and tell them how to be gay or bisexual,” Davidson said dryly.

“What?”

Davidson continued. “But as much as you dislike the idea I had that conversation with Logan, I loathe the idea that you and Brandon Robinson breathed the same air. The fact that he paid someone to kidnap you makes me want to kill him.”

A weary laugh slipped out before John could police his reactions. “Brandon?” That was not a name to inspire fear in others, but it did support John’s assumption that the man was a prep school escapee trying to play a role. “He’s probably dating a woman named Tiffany or Hailey.”

Davidson shrugged. “He introduces himself as Brake Robinson, and I’m not sure he dates women as much as sleeping with them before running off in the middle of the night. But he had no right to threaten you, and I regret that I brought him into your life. This did not turn out the way either of us intended, and I am very sorry for my part in this.”

John finally figured out what Davidson was playing at. He felt guilty. He and Elena were a pair. “You didn’t introduce him over tea, so stop talking like you intentionally brought him into my life and bought him the handgun.”

Davidson winced when John mentioned the gun. “I underestimated him. Several people told me he was a loose cannon, and I assumed I had him contained because I legally pinned down the contract.”

“You aren’t psychic, and I don’t want you feeling sorry for me.”

“To hell with feeling sorry for you. I’m angry with myself,” Davidson snapped.

“And you’re trying to take care of me.”

Davidson clenched his fists and took a step closer. John forced himself to sit up and not retreat in the face of anger. That’s not who John had been before the kidnapping and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start playing the part of a fucking victim now. 

Maybe something of John’s discomfort showed because Davidson quickly stepped back. “I told you, that’s not my goal here,” he said with an artificial calm.

“You’re lying to yourself if you think that,” John said with great confidence. People let down their guard when they had sex, and Davidson did even more than most. “You would work me, whip me, fuck me, and then take care of me. You’d fix food and rub me down or wash me. Do you really think I didn’t notice the pattern?” John asked.

“That’s my kink when I’m doing pony play.”

“That’s your kink period,” John said. “But this time you didn’t cause any of this and it’s not your job to fix it.” John forced himself back up onto his feet even though his legs were jelly.

“You think you have everything figured out, don’t you?”

“Yes.” And in the case of Davidson’s sexuality and his guilt, John knew he was right. “I appreciate the hell out of your kinks and your paycheck. I love the fight, the freedom to try to kick you to death and even the fact that I can trust you to move fast enough or use enough bondage to prevent a serious accident,” John said. “More than that, when you push, you always wait that half second and watch for any sign that I’m going to signal for a stop to the game. I respect that you play by the rules.” 

John hadn’t realized how much he had realized on that until Robinson’s goon had taken the security away. Even when Davidson used far stricter bondage, he would watch John’s foot for a stop signal or he would rest his hand on John’s shoulder. The slightest twitch of discomfort led to Davidson adjusting the buckles and straps. “But you don’t get to take care of me out here in the real world. The only thing I want right now is for you to go away.”

Davidson stared at John for a long time before he offered a bland smile and a mocking half bow. “I will email you the exact details of my conversation with Logan.”

John nodded. “And if you’re not going to want to fuck this weekend, let Elena know so she can schedule some time with the trainer I’m working with on walking.”

“Of course.” Davidson walked out, his back stiff with anger. This day could not get any worse, yet watching Davidson leave, John did feel significantly shittier. But he was too tired for introspection or self-doubt. He didn’t even strip before collapsing back onto the bed and sliding away into sleep.

Chapter 24: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20174290 

Chapter 25: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20210420 

Chapter 26: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20310403 

Chapter 27: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20707456 

Chapter 28: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20726684 

Chapter 29: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20848455