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Territorial Bonds

Chapter seven

Jazz stared at Sam for the longest time.

“You want me to what?” he asked finally, still staring at Sam incredulously. “You want me to go on a date with you…after everything you’ve done to me? You accused me of killing my own family for God’s sake!”

Sam pressed a finger to the young man’s lips.

“Hush. It’s just one date, little Monroe. Isn’t that enough to end all this ‘harassment’?”

Jazz would have thought that ‘no’ would be the immediate answer, but staring into Sam’s eyes as he was, he couldn’t seem to get a grip on the word. It didn’t help when the lawyer slid an arm around his waist, pulling him closer and his eyes were drawn to the man’s lips that hovered just inches away from his own. There was something about him, that was for sure, like an invisible force, or the completely enchanting smell he exuded.

“So what do you say?” Sam asked, an amused smile passing his lips as Jazz’s eyes turned up to meet his own, seeming a little blurred, or unfocused. He leaned forward purposefully, until his lips were mere centimetres from Jazz’s and he stared into his mismatched eyes, amused and curious for an answer.

“Just say yes, Jazz.”

“Just say…” the young man began, and Sam nodded.

“Say yes.”

The lawyer stared at him for what seemed like five minutes before Jazz nodded, looking as if there was some other force controlling his actions. Sam smiled, deciding to risk moving his head enough to press his lips onto Jazz’s in the softest of kisses.

When the lawyer drew his head back, Jazz was staring up at him, lips parted almost wantonly, eyes half lidded. He stared for a long while and then suddenly the spell was broken and Jazz jerked back with a hiss, pulling out of Sam’s arms.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, backing away until he stood with his back resting against the opposite wall. “Did you just kiss me?”

Sam smiled. “I didn’t hear you complaining. Plus I wanted to do a little something to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

Jazz knew, as soon as he said it. The whole incident had been like a sort of dream, something he was watching from afar. He had wanted to resist, but there was something pulling him towards the answer he didn’t want to give and, evidentially, he had given it.

“I agreed to go on a date with you didn’t I?” he asked in a small voice, looking down at the carpet.

“Yes you did, little Monroe.”

Jazz’s head raised sharply. “Well you can for…”

He was interrupted by Sam striding forward, shoving him back against the wall hard enough to hurt, pinning him in place with strong arms. He wasn’t given time or chance to fight, just time to let out a noise of surprise before Sam’s lips pressed upon his. The lawyer was harsh, forcing his tongue between Jazz’s lips, dominating his mouth in the hard and searing kiss.

Sam’s hands encircled Jazz’s wrists tightly as the young man struggled against him, pressing so hard that it hurt, forcing him into submission. Jazz’s wrists were transferred to one of Sam’s hands as the other yanked open a few buttons on his shirt, sliding inside to touch his soft, pale skin. Fingers found his nipples, pinching harshly, twisting, drawing a pained moan that was muffled by Sam’s lips. They then moved, sliding down his back and into the waistband of his pants, gripping one of his buttocks hard enough to bruise.

Sam was surprised to find that Jazz had stopped fighting him. The young man relaxed in his grip, actually parting his lips willingly, his tongue beginning to respond to the one shoved into his mouth. When Sam pressed forward, slipping one of his thighs between Jazz’s legs, he found a hardness to greet him and it made his own cock jerk in reply, pressing against the young man.

It seemed he had misread Jazz and that thought excited him to no end. He wanted nothing else but the human pinned against him, wanted to yank off his pants and touch his pretty cock or turn him and bend him over the couch, have him in every way he had wanted since he met him. He wanted to sink his fingers into impossibly soft hair, push Jazz to his knees, force his cock into the willing mouth and it was the hardest thing he had ever had to do to pull back, away from delicious, wanton temptation.

Sam had to force himself to remove his hands from Jazz’s person and step back away from him, achingly hard and panting with arousal. He couldn’t look up at the young man supporting himself against the wall, trying to catch his breath, looking so utterly desirable with his hair mussed and his shirt half open. If he raised his head, looked into eyes that mirrored his desire, then there would be nothing to stop him.

He wondered why, when he finally had the chance to get what he had been desiring, that he pulled away. Sam could so easily have slid Jazz’s pants down, spread his legs and he had the feeling that the young man wouldn’t have complained. There was something in him that made him stop…a sense that if he had taken Jazz then and there, he would have regretted it.

Sam risked a glance up, his gaze drawn first to the noticeable bulge in the young man’s pants, then up towards his face, the eyes that were watching him with hunger.

Jazz swallowed thickly then, straightening up and doing up the buttons on his shirt without a word, willing for his own arousal to disappear. His cheeks felt burning red, the embarrassment creeping through his body. Had he really kissed Sam back, allowed him to touch him, to pin him? Had he really enjoyed it so much? It almost hurt that the answer was yes. He’d enjoyed it all, but most of all, the utter domination.

Eventually, a smile spread across Sam’s face and he straightened his clothing, moving towards the door in a rather nonchalant manner.

“Perhaps you should go,” he ventured, “Unless…you’d like to stay, of course.”

Jazz shook his head a little too fast, moving past Sam into the entrance hall, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The problem wasn’t only that he had enjoyed it, but that the lawyer knew he had. He had to get out of there as soon as possible, get his head straight.

At the door, Sam took hold of Jazz’s arm loosely, turning him around to face him.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Wear something nice.”

Jazz opened his mouth to reply, but Sam simply smiled and retreated into the house, shutting the door after him. He left the young man standing on the step, a confused frown on his face. What had just happened? Did he really consent to a date with the man that he detested so thoroughly? There had been a moment when he couldn’t remember why he hated Sam, as if everything he knew about the man had been washed away and replaced with just a single desire.

His frown grew as he made his way down the steps and out onto the road. Throughout his walk back to the restaurant, he could only think that now he had to go on a date with the arrogant, smug lawyer. He had to be in the same place as him for a number of hours, exchange simple small talk, a few glasses of wine, and then came the end of the evening…

There was no way he was going to let a repeat of the last five minutes happen. As he walked down the road, Jazz shook his head, ridding the image from his mind, trying to think how he could get out of the date and any further contact with the lawyer once and for all.

When Jazz arrived back at the restaurant, he found the other waiters hard at work, rushing to get everything done and every customer served. Nomine glared at him across the room as he entered, straightening his uniform and a moment later, the pink haired male stopped beside him.

“We’ve been rushed off our feet, Jazz,” he stated angrily, “You shouldn’t have just run off like that.”

Jazz sighed.

“I’m sorry. It was important.”

Nomine gave him an annoyed look.

“The boss wants to see you. Now.”

Jazz nodded and immediately turned, happy to have an excuse to leave Nomine behind, but not enthusiastic about going to see Lucas. The man had already warned him about Sam and he could easily have made the connection with Jazz running off when he should have been working.

He trudged up the stairs with slow acceptance, pausing outside the door with his hand raised for a long time before he could bring himself to knock.

“Come in,” came the voice from within and Jazz did so reluctantly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Lucas wasn’t in his normal place. He was stood at the window, his shape silhouetted by the moon outside, a darkness against the light, with his back to Jazz. He stayed there for the longest time before slowly turning and the young man could have sworn that something was a little off about the shape of his face.

“Good evening, Jazz,” he began, his voice calm and not at all angry as Jazz had expected. Lucas began to move then, crossing the room and the distance between them until only a few feet parted them.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Jazz looked up into what he thought were Lucas’s eyes, but couldn’t be sure of in the darkness.

“It was nothing. Something I needed to do. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll come in early next week to make up for it.”

Lucas moved closer, almost close enough for Jazz to see him, but then he shifted out of his line of vision, circling behind him. He daren’t risk turning, earning the wrath of the boss that he was beginning to be wary about. It just wasn’t normal to be shut away in a dark room all day and all night with no one for company. He knew that personally, it would drive him insane.

“Something important?” Lucas asked from somewhere behind him. “Then I’m glad you got it done. Tell me…” He moved closer until Jazz could feel his presence behind him, mere inches from him. “Was it Sam Taylor that you went to see?”

The young man sighed.

“Yes.”

A hand grasped his upper arm loosely as Lucas stepped closer again, close enough that Jazz could feel warm breath down the nape of his neck.

“What did you tell him?”

Jazz had to wonder where the sudden interest in Sam had come from. If the two were friends, as Jazz had originally been lead to believe, then surely he could simply call Sam and ask him himself. But there seemed to be anger, resentment when it came to the lawyer, as if the two were bitter rivals caught in a lengthy battle.

“I told him to leave me alone.” That much, at least, was true.

“What else did you tell him?”

The young man tensed as Lucas moved closer again, a heavy presence behind him. The hand on his arm squeezed slightly, claw like nails digging into his arm through his shirt, slicing the thin material.

“That I would go to the police if he doesn’t stop harassing me.”

“And?”

Jazz had to pause for a moment. He could tell the truth, risk the anger of his boss, risk another rage like the other day. After that, he had sat for a while, asking himself why he didn’t just quit his job, but then, money was always a major factor in his decisions. Until the inheritance came through from his family, then he was forced to take whatever work he could, and Lucas paid very well.

“He agreed to leave me alone,” he lied, wincing as something sharp dug into his arm, drawing a welt across his skin.

The silence that followed Jazz’s words was almost painful. He stood as still as possible as Lucas shifted behind him, pressing closer to his body. The breath on his neck was hot, hotter than a human’s should have been, making the tiny hairs on his skin stand on end. The sharpness that dug into his arm hurt and he could feel the trickle of blood that trailed down towards his wrist, soaking through the white of his shirt.

Jazz was nervous, worried that Lucas would sense that he was lying, curious as to why the man had such a sudden, intense dislike for Sam. He stood for ages, agonizing as Lucas seemed to be trying to make up his mind, and eventually, the hand released him and his boss moved from behind him, retreating to his desk.

“I hope this means that you’ll be back working with your usual level of attention,” Lucas said, his voice strangely raspy, his breath a little heavier than usual.

Jazz nodded his agreement and as soon as Lucas gave the word, hurried out of the room, back to work.

“Jazzy, put the DVD on already.”

“What?”

Jazz broke from his thoughts to find Cleo staring at him with a curious look on her face. He had been thinking about the evening’s events and the fact that he had somehow agreed to go on a date with Sam. He still couldn’t work out how he had come to say yes, when he had gone to see Sam with nothing but hatred.

He had made up his mind. When Sam came to the door, he would tell him straight up that he wasn’t going anywhere with him. He wouldn’t let him inside the apartment, wouldn’t even look him in the eye, he would just tell him no clearly. At least, that was the plan anyway.

“What’s up with you today?” Cleo asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “What are you thinking about?”

Jazz sighed, staring down at the DVD he held in his hands. It was some Japanese movie that had been recommended to him by Nomine. It had seemed interesting when he’d picked it up, but he wasn’t in the mood to watch it that evening.

“I’m just thinking,” he said with another sigh.

“What about?”

Cleo sat back on the couch with her legs crossed, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. She always insisted on popcorn during movies, usually sweet, which Jazz wasn’t fond of. In fact, he had been really off his food lately, too worried about everything else in his life to stomach anything.

“That guy…Sam Taylor.”

“Oh?”

Jazz sighed a third time, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“I went to his place today…told him to leave me alone…but…” He paused, biting his bottom lip and Cleo raised an eyebrow curiously.

“But?”

“Somehow…I ended up pressed against the wall with him kissing me, touching me…I could feel him. He was so hard.”

Cleo’s eyes grew a little wider.

“He kissed you? What did you do?”

Jazz lowered his head.

“I let him. I fought at first…but when he started touching me wherever he wanted, forcing me to kiss him…I liked it. It felt so…”

“Good?” Cleo asked, and Jazz nodded.

“I don’t know why. I hate that man…but when he did that to me, I…”

Jazz let out an exasperated noise and collapsed back against the couch, allowing his legs to flop limply to the floor.

“What the hell is the matter with me?”

Cleo just laughed.

“Don’t stress about it, hun. Some people like that sort of stuff. You remember how you were before…you liked it when guys took control of you.”

“But I didn’t hate those guys.”

Cleo put down the popcorn and scooted closer, putting her arm around him.

“It’s obvious you’re attracted to him. I don’t blame you, he’s hot.”

She winked and Jazz frowned, angry at her for teasing him.

“I’m not attracted to him,” he stated, pulling away from her, staring down at the floor, “But he…he asked me to go on a date with him and after all that stuff, I don’t know…I agreed to it.”

Cleo instantly smiled, throwing her arms around him in an embrace.

“That’s great! It is so time for you to start dating again and…”

“But I don’t want to go!” Jazz interrupted and Cleo sat back, giving him an amused look.

“Just go, Jazzy. You’re attracted to him and you could really do with getting out of the house. The only place you ever go is work. Just go…and if you don’t enjoy yourself, then you never have to go out with him again.”

She watched him as he sunk back against the couch once more, pulling a pillow to his chest and wrapping his arms around it, lips drawn into the irresistible pout that he never knew he was doing.

“Just do it, Jazz,” she said as she plucked the DVD case from his hand, getting up to turn on the TV, “You’ll only keep thinking about it if you don’t. Besides,” she grinned, “it’s about time you got laid.”

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