Page 40 of Fire & Ice

At the time, it was so unexpected that it probably took Tripp the better part of half an hour just to wrap his head around the basics, which came down tohis best friendsuggesting that the two of them have sex.Together.On a regular basis!

That would have been wild enough, and Tripp would have been in like Flynn, no questions asked. Fortunately, his brain caught up with his dick in time to beat his downstairs brain intosubmission and take over again—temporarily—at least, for long enough to parse out a few of the morespecificaspects of Lee’s proposal.

Obvious stuff aside, one such aspect happened to be the way Leander talked about pain, freely and as if there was no innately associated taboo to speak about. It was fascinating and alluring, and Tripp was captivated from the jump, not that he had the guts to say so back then. Now, though—it’s what he comes back to constantly, the thing he’s been fixating on for days.

That’s his secret, so to speak, the dirty-dark thing he’s been working up the courage to ask for his Dom to give him. It’s the need he’s both unabashedly terrified of confessing and desperate to try on for size—the temptation and the possibilities call to him like a siren.

In fact, the deeper he and Lee travel into their shared world of submission and domination, punishment and pleasure, the more Trippwants.It’s complicated—all of it twisting together, intoxicating and delicious, swirled and blended with love and lust and fear—but Tripp isreadyfor Lee to take both of them to the next level.

It was clear from the things Leander said and the examples he gave that first night, thatLeedoesn’t get off on pain, or even causing it, necessarily. No, even so early on, Tripp understood very clearly thatLeegets off on making his subs feel satisfied.Leegets off on meeting his sub’s needs. That’spartof what Lee's own needs are, really, which is a whole separate train of thought, albeit one that Tripp finds equally fascinating, mostly because it’s entirely different from how his brain works.

Despite that distinction, Leander still managed to make the idea of inflicting and receiving elevated, intentional pain sound seriously exhilarating. He described a kind of eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head experience that could transform a scene—and a subsequent orgasm—from ‘awesome’to ‘soul-temporarily-left-my-body’levels.

And Trippwantsthat. Sure, maybe he doesn’t have any real clue what he’s asking for beyond some broad concepts courtesy of Google, but it’s not as if this is out of left field. Tripp’s fairly certain Leander knows perfectly well that he enjoys a little pain with his pleasure, he’s just not entirely sure whether, as a Dom, Leander grasps theextentof Tripp’s curiosity, or even his desire to explore his own limits.

Therein lies the problem.

Squirming against last night’s slightly-crusty sheets, Tripp tips his head to the side and contemplates Leander’s peaceful expression. The lines in his forehead and around his eyes smooth out to nothing when he sleeps, taking years off of his handsome face. Right now, Lee’s laying on his left side, right hand tucked below his cheek, pillow completely lost to the nighttime shuffle. Warmed by the sight, Tripp chuckles a little as he imagines the way Lee’s for sure waking up pissy, his left arm almost definitely gone numb thanks to the awkward angle it’s tucked beneath him.

Smile fading, Tripp bites at his thumbnail and tries to summon both the courage and the words to ask Leander to hurt him.

Hurt him? Is that really what he wants?It’s hard to say.It’s notsolelythe pain—Tripp’s scened enough at this point to know that—it’s theescapismthe pain provides. The way it forces Tripp out of his head in a way that nothing else can. Actually, the amplified orgasm is a bonus, really, and he’s experienced the phenomenon enough with lighter types of domination to feel comfortable in saying as much.

If pressed, Tripp would say that it’sthataspect he’s really interested in—thedistraction. And yes, on some level, he does feel that he deserves it. Pain, that is. Punishment. There are things in Tripp’s life that he feels guilty about—people he should have been better able to help, victims and patients he let down by not beinghisbest, by not being able to deliver on his promise to protect and save them.

In that same vein, of all the things Tripp is unsure about when it comes to Lee,thisis a big one. Part of him thinks Leander will understand those haunting thoughts completely, and part of him worries he’ll be rebuffed outright. That Lee will insist that he’s being unfair and ridiculous by berating himself in that particular way, by carrying these regrets and perceived failings about things he couldnevercontrol, whether it’s logical to do so or not.

Tripp scoffs at himself. He knows that his issues aren’t logical. If they were, he wouldn’t need to resort to alternative methods to cope, he’d just reason his way back to sanity and emotional peace. Stealing another glance in Leander’s direction, his mouth twitches up reflexively when Leander sighs and snuffles down into the mattress in his sleep. After taking a snapshot with his mind, Tripp blows out a breath and refocuses his gaze on the rotating ceiling fan.

He knows what he has to do—what hewantsto do—but first, he and Lee have something much more serious to deal with today. Something that’s going to takeallof their combined strength and mental fortitude to endure.

“You look stressed.” Leander’s sleep-rough voice rumbles soft in his ear, and Tripp can’t help but turn into him, to curl into Leander’s body as he stretches briefly and then snuggles back into his side. As they come together, Tripp automatically tucks Lee's face into his neck the way that he knows he likes,curling an arm around his waist just because he can. The hum of approval and brush of lips over his collar is affirmation enough, and Tripp smiles into Leander’s hair, relishes the way their legs tangle automatically together underneath the blanket.

“I’m okay, Sir,” he replies, not having to look to know that Lee is making an epic expression of disbelief. Before he can protest, Tripp amends, “I, uh, wanted to run some stuff by you. Later. After this torture session we have planned in—” He rolls over just far enough to reach his phone and squint at the screen. “—An hour. Ugh,” he groans, tossing the device down onto the bed and twisting himself around Lee, burying his face back into his hair. “Permission to stay here, be tied to the bed, and devastated for hours by my Dom instead, Sir?”

In response, Leander grunts something that might be a laugh into the space beneath Tripp’s jaw before abruptly sitting up and wrapping lithe fingers around Tripp’s throat. His grip landsjustover the dangerous side of teasing to flirt with threatening, his thigh hot against Tripp’s hip and the place he vacated at his side far too cool. Lee's blue eyes flash dangerously in the strip of morning light slipping through the generous break in the curtains.

“You will behave today,” he warns, the pads of his fingers pulsing nearly imperceptibly against the sides of Tripp’s neck while his dickveryquickly hops on board with wherever this is going.

Unfortunately for Little Tripp, Leander grins wickedly and then takes his hand away. Hopping out of bed in one smooth movement that Tripp tracks with his eyes (fine, he watches his ass), Leander heads for the bathroom before any sort of bratty act can be pulled from Tripp’s arsenal to try and trap him into staying or convince him to follow through.

Grumbling to himself, Tripp reluctantly sits up and shoots off a text message related to their impending doom before lazily rolling free of the mattress and scooping up the clean clothes he brought with him from home yesterday. All told, it’s a salty way to start the day.

That is, until Leander changes his attitude with the most welcome invitation in history. The shower is already running when a messy shock of bedhead appears in the open bathroom doorway and Lee clears his throat.

“Brush your teeth and join me,” he commands, and Tripp’s never spun on his heels so fast. By the time he’s spitting into the sink and washing the remnants down the drain, Lee is well on his way through washing up, body only half-visible through the frosted glass pane of the shower door.

Despite having heard the instructions clearly, Tripp lingers for a moment by the sink, enjoying the show Lee is putting on whether it’s intentional or not. His eyes follow the outline of his Dom’s muscled arms as they raise to scrub the shampoo from his hair, the subtle shift of his hips as he enjoys the hot spray against his shoulders. Lee's head tips back until water streams down his face, a satisfied little hum escaping from parted lips, and Tripp marvels at how naturally sexy he is just going through his daily routine.

There’s no pretense here, and he appreciates seeing Leander stripped so bare in a different sort of way.

When he finally does open the door to the shower, Tripp hesitates, caught up in admiring the way Lee shakes the water from his face and eyes before blinking them open. As usual, his gaze is sharp, intense, and it burns straight through Tripp as steam rises around his tanned and wet body like a dream. If he’s being honest, it’s hard to recognize the man who has beenhis friend for so many years—in this context, Leander looks unearthly, ethereal, even God-like. It’s a hell of a sight.

“You’re going to regret standing out there and staring at me instead of obeying my order,” Leander says off-handedly, pouring some body wash onto the cloth he’s holding and lathering it up. He nods at a second washcloth, left folded over a little bar built into the shower wall. “Clean yourself up, quickly.”

“Yes, Sir,” Tripp acknowledges, rushing to oblige as little lightning bolts of excitement zap through his fingers and toes at hearing Leander’s tone. It’s full of promise and something more to come, which Trippreallyfreaking needs before facing this damn day. While he washes, Leander rinses himself, but he doesn’t close his eyes again, and he doesn’t speak, either. He just stares at Tripp, openly appreciating the way the soap suds and water droplets sluice down his body, smirking when he discovers Tripp getting hard, presumably in response to his hungry gaze.

“See something you like,Sir?” Tripp quips, and Leander’s eyes narrow, giving him less than a second to register his world being turned upside down before he’s slammed against the shower wall face-first, a hand fisted tightly in his hair and the other wrapped around his torso, squeezing the base of his cock.

---