GENRE: Gay BDSM Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 109,190 words
RATING:

For months, office worker Kevin Lawrence has carried a torch for Joey Goldman, head driver at the haulage company where they both work. One rainy night, Kevin slips and falls on a patch of motor oil and Joey is there to catch him.

Despite being damaged both emotionally and physically from previous relationships, Kevin is helplessly drawn to the dominant trucker. Joey’s muscles and rugged good looks means he never has trouble finding men to take to bed. But no man has managed to get under his skin ... until Kevin.

Life for Joey soon becomes complicated. He isn’t out to his family, but feels an increasing need to be Kevin’s Sir -- to love, protect and guide his submissive lover.

Can Joey and Kevin make the journey together, or will outside forces and internal fears cause them to travel in opposite directions?

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

As they stood side-by-side in the rain, Joey’s six feet three inch frame dwarfing that of Kevin’s five feet two inches, Joey couldn’t resist wrapping a protective arm around Kevin’s shoulder. It was the first time he’d ever had any prolonged physical contact with the slightly built man.

“Can you walk on that ankle?” he said, staring down at the shorter man.

Kevin tried to look away, but Joey held his gaze.

“I think so.” Kevin took a step but would have fallen if Joey hadn’t caught him.

“Well, that answers that question, then.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Sir? Did he say sir? Joey asked himself. “Um, I can take you home on the back of my bike, it’s the least I can do.”

“Oh, no, honest, I can wait for the next bus, I’ll be all right.”

“Give over arguing, it’s decided.”

The smaller man sagged, seeming to resign himself to his fate.

“Come on, lean on me.” Joey wrapped an arm around Kevin, helping to support his weight as he hobbled along. The rain was beginning to creep under Joey’s leather jacket, causing him to shiver. “Shit, this is too slow.”

“Sorry, I can’t go any faster.”

“Sor-right, I know you can’t.” Joey picked Kevin up. As he carried him towards his motorcycle Kevin began to squirm. “Stop wriggling!” Joey commanded.

“Sorry.” Apart from the occasional shiver, Kevin managed to lie still.

After gently placing his charge on the pillion seat, Joey got out the spare helmet and made sure it was correctly positioned on Kevin’s head before straddling the bike and kick starting the engine. As usual, the throaty roar and the vibration between his legs gave Joey a thrill.

“Put your arms around me, and hold on!” Joey shouted, but Kevin didn’t respond. Obviously the guy didn’t hear him, or was too panicked to comply. Reaching behind himself, Joey grasped his passenger’s arms and wrapped them round his chest. Letting out the clutch, Joey sped out of the car park.

As he travelled down the rain-swept streets, Joey realised he hadn’t asked where Kevin lived. Maybe this was a conscious oversight; he’d just have to take the man back to his place. Joey smiled, his dick twitching at the thought.

The evening traffic was light, so it only took ten minutes to get home. Pulling up outside a set of garages, Joey hopped off his bike, unlocked the garage door, then got back on and drove the pair of them into the dark interior. Cutting the engine, Joey waited a few seconds for his ears to stop ringing before he took off his helmet.

Leaning back in the saddle, Joey was certain his passenger was sporting wood. Hmm, interesting.

“Okay, time to dismount.”

“But, but, I don’t live here.”

“I know, I thought I’d get you dried off and everything at my place first, okay?”

“But, but ...”

“Don’t argue. Come on.” Joey gave a light whack to Kevin’s behind; Kevin shot upwards in shock, and started to shake.

Christ, he’s a timid one. Better go careful.

The two made slow progress towards the back entrance to the block of flats, Kevin needing to lean quite heavily on Joey, the latter finding it strangely appealing.

“It’d be quicker if I carried you up the stairs.”

Kevin stiffened.

Turning Kevin round to face him, Joey stared down at the smaller man. “It’ll be okay. I don’t bite. Well not often anyway.” Joey laughed, but Kevin didn’t join in. “What’s wrong?” Joey lifted the smaller man’s drooping chin with a finger.

“Sorry, Sir,” the man said, still shaking.

What’s with all this sir shit? Joey mused as he picked the bloke up. Though he had to admit Kevin’s deference did give him a bit of a thrill. He’d role played with a few of his more adventurous tricks, Joey always taking the role of the master, of course. He wondered what would happen with a man who was naturally submissive.

Finally reaching the third floor, Joey gently set Kevin down as he fished out his key. “Welcome to my humble abode,” Joey said, carrying his human cargo into the hallway.

Joey was about to apologise for the mess which he knew would await them, he wasn’t much into housework, but the place shone like a new pin. Joey could even detect the faint odour of lavender furniture polish. He didn’t think he owned any furniture polish.

After setting Kevin on a stool in the kitchen, Joey went to the fridge to confirm his suspicions. Not finding what he was after, he depressed the pedal on his waste bin and pulled out an unopened packet of bacon. “For fuck’s sake!”

The harshness of his tone caused Kevin to start in alarm.

Joey noticed it and immediately went to reassure his guest. “Sorry. It’s just when I saw that the place had been cleaned, I knew my mother had been round.”

“Oh, right.”

“She’s Jewish, so’s my dad. Which of course makes me Jewish, too, though I don’t observe.”

“Okay.”

Looking at the clean kitchen, Joey went on, “And like mothers the world over, she can’t help sticking her nose in.” He put a set of flowered tea-towels in the bottom drawer of the cabinet, before fishing out his usual plain white ones. “Trust me, Yiddish mothers are the worst for interfering.”

Kevin looked sad.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay, Pup, you can tell me.” Joey wondered why he’d used the epithet. It seemed to suit Kevin, those chocolate drop eyes of his looked so much like those of his dog, Bertie.

Kevin couldn’t meet Joey’s gaze, even though the latter had made a conscious effort to soften it. “My parents disowned me, um ... When they --”

“When they found out you were gay.”

Kevin stared at Joey in absolute terror.

Joey suddenly realised what he’d said. “It’s okay. I’ve known about you and Cal for ages, Cal didn’t exactly keep it a secret.” Joey recalled the many macho boasts Cal had imparted to his mates about how he was able to dominate his submissive partner. Though he’d remained unusually quiet on the subject recently.

“I’m not out to my family, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Joey shuddered at the thought of them knowing. Needing to change the subject, he said, “Listen, we’ll have to get you out of those wet things, otherwise you’ll catch your death. I’ll run you a bath, then I’ll find you something to put on, though none of my stuff will fit you.”

Kevin’s panic appeared to have lessened. “That’s okay, Sir, please just take me home, I’ll be fine.”

“Rubbish.” Joey was feeling protective towards his guest. “Come on, I’ll carry you to the bathroom, you can strip off in there.”

“No, honestly, I --”

“Pup,” Joey held Kevin’s face in his hands, “You’re staying for a bath, and it’s not negotiable.”

Kevin sagged, obviously giving into the inevitability of it all.

Joey hoisted up his burden and carried him into the bathroom. Putting Kevin down on the closed toilet lid, he began to run the water, making sure he added plenty of bubble bath.

“Now strip.”

“Um, it’s okay, Sir, I can manage, please.” Kevin looked up pleadingly into Joey’s face.

Something inside Joey shifted, making him feel…what? He wasn’t sure he could identify it. “Okay,” Joey said softly, backing out of the room. In the hallway, he slapped the side of his face. ‘You’re turning fucking soft, Joe.”

He walked back to the kitchen to rustle up some food. Deciding it probably wasn’t safe to use the bacon, he opted for his old standby of a couple of frozen TV dinners. Joey knew he was no cook.

Once the foil trays were in the oven, Joey remembered he hadn’t seen any towels in the bathroom. No doubt his mother had taken them back to her house to be washed. Reaching into the airing cupboard, he pulled out a couple of large bath sheets.

Pushing open the bathroom door, Joey said “Here’s some fresh ...” The rest of his statement died on his lips as he stared disbelievingly at the sight that greeted him.

Kevin lowered his shaking shoulders, a sob escaping from his lips. This snapped Joey out of his inactivity; he moved into the bathroom and went down on his knees in front of the bath. Reaching out a hand, he began to touch the numerous thin raised scars on Kevin’s exposed back. This only seemed to cause Kevin to weep harder. One of the more obvious marks was in the shape of a belt buckle. Joey battled to suppress his anger.

“Did Cal do this?” Joey asked through clenched teeth.

“Sorry, Sir. I ... I ... I didn’t want you to see them, I’m sorry, I’m sorry ...” Kevin dissolved totally.

Joey counted to ten, using the time to dig deep into his reserves of strength. Taking a deep breath -- and despite being fully clothed -- he reached for Kevin. Using as much gentleness as he could muster, Joey plucked the little bloke out of the bath. Wrapping a towel round the shaking ball of human misery, Joey sat on the closed toilet lid and seated Kevin on his knee, holding him close.

“Hush, Pup. Please hush.” He began to rock the smaller man.