“Stop running away! Face me like a man,” Vars hissed.
Jake cowered, but with the words stabbing into him so viciously, he had no other choice but to stay put, even if not looking into Vars’s face. “What do you want?” he whispered hoarsely as if the heat in his throat still lingered.
Vars frowned, turning him around by force. “What is going on between you and the guys? Is there something I’m not getting? Some kind of BDSM situation no one’s telling me about?”
“No! Where did that idea even—what? I’m not into your flogger and whips stuff!” Jake was already missing his ice, because the cold dampness was evaporating from his T-shirt. Maybe he should pick it up from the floor after all?
Vars smirked. “So you might not like pain. So what? You’re begging to be mastered. You love being submissive. You lost against me on purpose!”
“Did not!” Jake spat before he could process the accusation. Did he? He’d had a perfectly good set of cards, yet he chose to risk exchanging one and ultimately lost. “The guys are patches. I’m a prospect. It makes sense to listen to their orders!” But Vars had wrecked that hierarchy. Vars demanded service even without the right patch involved. Jake had no idea where he stood with him, and the lust he still felt was scaring the shit out of him.
Vars shrugged. “Gray doesn’t think so.”
Jake’s lips parted. He had no answer to that, so he ducked for his ice, but Vars pulled him up.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
Even in anger, Vars had the authority to make Jake stand still and listen.
With Jake pacified, Vars leaned closer, piercing him with that odd blue-purple gaze. “Do they know you get off on serving them, or are they just using you?”
“I like to give head. Big fucking deal,” Jake muttered, increasingly hot all over. The statue behind him, with its large wings and the skull-like muzzle full of sharp teeth, made him all the more unnerved when he couldn’t see it.
Vars’s shoulders visibly relaxed. He made little circles on Jake’s arms with his thumbs, and from up close, his cologne was starting to become obvious—a cloud of musk sticking to Jake’s skin like honey. “I know. You made me feel really fucking good. You can be a good boy when you want to.”
Jake swallowed, mesmerized by Vars’s warm voice. “I’m… glad you enjoyed it. You’ve won it after all,” he mumbled and stood there stiffly, even though his whole being wanted to curl up against Vars’s meaty pecs.
Vars smiled, and his palms moved along Jake’s shoulders, up his neck, eventually settling on Jake’s jaw. His skin was hot, as if Vars had removed his hands from a pot of boiling water, and yet Jake couldn’t help but lean into the touch while his heart danced the tango.
“No. You did. You won my dick in a game of cards.”
And it could never happen again. Vars was too much of a temptation to be kept around. Soon enough, Damon would show up, and Vars would have no other choice but to leave or be pestered. Judging by the fact he’d come all the way to Brecon, Maine, to lose his ex, it was most likely he’d leave here too. Problem solved.
Just like the ice solved his other problem.
The bag was now melting on the floor, but Jake couldn’t bear pulling away from the arms that would soon be gone from his life forever. “It… I mean, I won’t lie, it is a really nice dick.”
“I know. I might surprise you, but there’s more to me than my nice dick,” Vars said with a wide smile, massaging Jake’s nape with his fingertips. “I could help you get that collar.”
Jake’s eyes went wide, and he pulled out of the warm grip in panic, only to slip on the melted ice and fall right into the clawed paws of the statue. Oh God, they still smelled of King’s blood. “Collar? What collar?”
“The collar from the diary. You know, the one used to control people. Maybe it could get this thing inside you in check?”
Jake blinked, completely blindsided. If what was going on with him was real, the collar’s power might be as well. “The collar Fane used to keep men still as he tortured, raped them, and generally sliced them into pieces?”
“Yes. That collar. Obviously we’re not gonna use it for torturing, raping, or slicing into pieces.”
Understanding flashed through Jake and wormed its way through his gut until Jake was feeling physically sick. “You want to control me. You want to make me your slave. You’d love that wouldn’t you?” Jake took a step forward and shoved at Vars’s chest. His aggression was partially spurred on by the fact that he secretly relished the idea. With that magical collar around his neck, he would have no other choice but to follow Vars’s orders, whatever they entailed. He’d lick Vars’s body clean each night, allow him any torture he fancied, and then gratefully sleep at Vars’s feet, all responsibility removed from his hands.