The Bounty

16. Back In The Closet [M]

[ 16. Back In The Closet ]

I was hog-tied.

To give Hayes credit, I was throwing a bit of a tantrum about getting tied to the chair. I whined about how it hurt my ass and I was already sore—I may have been exaggerating a little—so I didn't want to make matters worse. He argued back for a minute before ultimately rolling his eyes and telling me he had an alternative option.

I would have taken the chair.

"Do you treat all your lovers like this, or am I getting special treatment?" I asked with my face down shoved into the carpet, wrists and ankles being tied together with more zip-ties. Hayes grunted as a response. "Oh, just me?"

He paused. "You're not my lover."

"My bad. Nondescript distractions," I corrected, wincing at the pain in my shoulders from being contorted like a goddamn pretzel. "This is fucking awful. I changed my mind. Give me the chair."

"Too late," Hayes muttered, stepping back and staring down at me as if he were admiring his work. I was still in just my boxers and T-shirt, but the wriggling had exposed my back and hips. "You could be in dirty magazines all tied up like that."

That caught me off guard. Despite literally getting railed by him the night before and listening to his filthy bedroom talk, I found it hard to believe that he was even attracted to me. For all I knew, I was just a warm hole for him to stick his dick into. My body nor face didn't need to look good for that. Hayes cleared his throat and turned away, retrieving something from across the room and coming back.

When he came back, that same bandana from last night was back. "No, please," I groaned. "I'll be quiet."

"And I'm the queen of England," he scoffed. "I'll wait until he's here to put it on."

He was literally sticking me in the closet in his bedroom. I was on the floor next to a pretty extensive sneaker collection, my head dangerously close to nosing the toe of some Nikes. Hayes took a seat in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're a sick man, Hayes Last-Name."

I watched him smile, small and radiant. "So I've heard before," he said. He had dressed himself, jeans and a Polo. He looked different from when he was following me around. More clean. More suburban. "Are you going to behave?"

He set himself up. "Do I get rewarded if I do?" I asked, glancing down at his lap. I could see it the moment he registered what I'd said. His eyes darkened and his left eyebrow perked in interest. So he did like the sex. "I'll be a good boy. Promise."

Hayes bit his cheek. Then there was a knock at the door and he straightened. "Hold still," he said, kneeling before me. I lifted my head, a difficult feat with my limbs tied behind my back.

The bandana was salty and immediately dried my tongue when he looped it around my mouth. His fingers smoother my hair down on the back of my head and knotted the bandana.

"Stay quiet and I'll think about it," he whispered, giving me one indecipherable look before standing to his full height, then shutting the closet door.

I took a deep breath, dropping my head to rest on the floor. He didn't say how long it'd take. I couldn't hear anything from the closet, at least not so far. It was the most uncomfortable I'd ever been in my life, just because of the ties. I couldn't move except to flop onto my side, which killed my shoulder, but it was better than digging my chin into the ground. I stared into the darkness, waiting. Listening.

There were two distinctly different male voices. Hayes, obviously, and a gruffer, more aged one. They were chatting but it was so muffled, I couldn't make out a word until they were closer.