Promises Part 2 (Bounty Hunters 2)

“Cayson, tell me! What else did he do?” Quick yelled, just lower than a dull roar.

Cayson jumped, startling back out of Quick’s space. He hadn’t meant to yell that loud, but at least Cayson didn’t look scared. That’s not what he was going for. He closed his eyes and recited a couple of his favorite proverbs from his sensei, all the while Cayson stood off a ways, watching him.

Quick did his breathing and thought of a calming place. Not mindful of how many seconds passed, he opened his eyes, blinking as if he were coming back to reality. When his head pounded and his skin heated to the point he felt like he’d combust, he knew he was losing composure. It was terrifying and alluring when he crooked his finger, beckoning Cayson back to him. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do or say. All he did know was that Cayson was going to tell him the whole truth. Did Joe do anything more beside push Cayson?

Cayson still hadn’t moved and Quick hurried to show him he was in full control. He felt a cocky grin play across his face as he began to walk slowly towards him. Cayson looked like he was going to bolt, and how much fun that would be. “If you run. I’ll catch you,” Quick said darkly and Cayson shook his head, finally smiling back at him. He’d backed him up to the wall, leaving him no room to flee. Quick didn’t rush him. He ran his hand up Cayson’s flat stomach and over his chest. He caressed the smooth skin beneath the top of his collar before he placed his entire palm over Cayson’s throat. He didn’t squeeze, just held it there, staring down into Cayson’s shocked eyes. No fear. Only desire. He fit himself against Cayson, giving him his brawn to show he was still protecting him… always. But right now, he wanted to push Cayson and see how far he could pull him from his comfort zone before he retreated. He needed his surgeon to trust him, but how could he ask that when Quick hadn’t told Cayson everything? He closed his eyes and breathed when he felt the fast thump of Cayson’s pulse and the nervous dip of his Adam’s apple. Quick breathed in through his nose and out through is mouth, feeling a coolness wash over the inferno that was his body. How did Cayson do that? He was calming him.

Cayson spoke and Quick felt each syllable under his palm. “Joe said he was going to do what I’d wanted him to do, and fuck me,” Cayson spoke hurriedly.

That was when his self-control went to hell… literally. It felt like Cayson had tossed him in a lake of fire. Quick’s body shook, but Cayson kept going. “He undid his belt and pushed me against the wall. I couldn’t, um… I couldn’t get loose.”

Quick grunted, the beast within scratching and clawing to be let free. To get even. His fingers twitched against Cayson’s damp flesh.

“I told him no, but he grabbed for my dick. I pushed him as hard as I could and when I raised my voice and mentioned sexual harassment, he left.”

Quick wanted to beat on his chest. How dare that son of a bitch. He went to remove his hand from Cayson’s throat while he processed what Joe did to his man. His. He’d kill him. This was fucking war. Before he could drop his hand, Cayson grabbed for it and put it back to his neck, pushing his fingertips closed firmly around the most vulnerable part of his body. He was showing Quick the extent of his trust in him. Cayson wasn’t afraid, no matter how angry Quick got. That was going to be critical in their relationship, because one thing was for certain, Quick could get extremely mad.

“Look at me.” Cayson’s voice sounded far away, and Quick realized he had a decent grip on Cayson’s throat. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

Quick eased up, pressing his forehead down on top of Cayson’s head while he breathed through his gentle words. They were close enough that Cayson could pucker up his lips and kiss him right between his pecs. When he felt him pushing his throat against Quick’s hold, trying to get his mouth on Quick’s body, his nerves settled, and his ire fizzled to a simmering burn.

“I’m sorry he touched you. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

“Maybe it’s best you weren’t.”

Quick couldn’t help but agree. “I think you’re right.” He finally took his hand down only to stare at the faint handprint left there. Jesus.

“What?” Cayson must’ve read his expression. His delicate, expert fingers reached up and timidly touched the tender flesh over his throat. “Is there a mark there?” Cayson asked, almost wistfully.

“My handprint.” Quick swallowed a thick gulp of worry. He was embarrassed. He and Cayson hadn’t quite got that far in their courting yet. Before they could go there, they’d have to talk about boundaries and limits. Quick wasn’t thinking in terms of a D/s relationship, but he liked to play rough. Who didn’t sometimes?