“Good boy,” Jordan cooed.
Matt didn’t even have the strength to shake off thehand that stroked his curls—he opened his mouth, helpless,pleading. With another chuckle, Jordan stuck the bottle’s openpull-top between Matt’s lips. The water was cold and delicious, andcarved a frigid path down Matt’s scorched throat all the way to hisnoisy stomach. He suckled greedily, drinking too fast; a sliver ofice stabbed behind his eye but he ignored it as he worked the waterfrom the bottle. His eyes watched Jordan’s hand, the one that heldthe bottle for him, sure at any moment the glorious liquid woulddisappear.
But Jordan let him drink his fill. When he downed thelast sip, Jordan set the bottle aside and pushed the plate closer.“Hungry?” he asked.
“Yes,” Matt sighed. He lay on his side, the plate ateye-level, and wondered how this was going to work. Did he have tosnort through the food like a pig, eating with his hands stillbehind him? Or did Jordan plan to feed him? It would be too much tohope he was untied. Matt almost hoped his captor would try to feedhim—he would’ve liked a chance to bite at those grubby fingers,draw blood if he could…
Picking up a piece of toast, Jordan held it closeenough for Matt to snap at, but before Matt’s mouth could closeover the bread, it was pulled out of reach. “First,” Jordan said, agreasy grin sliding across his face, “tell me something,Matthew.”
He waited. Matt held his breath, wondering what wascoming next. He didn’t take his gaze off the toast, and the smellof the sausages was growing overwhelming. Finally, when it becameobvious Jordan wasn’t going to continue without being prompted,Matt grunted, “What.”
“These…powers of yours.” Jordan picked up asausage, set it on the toast, and proceeded to wrap the breadaround the meat, watching his own fingers work as if he wasn’t veryinterested in anything Matt might have to say. His voice wascasual, betraying nothing, as he spoke. “Back in high school, theymade me the fastest runner on the track team. I had thought thatwas all they did. But that newspaper article? The one where yourthug-lover got shot and walked away without a scratch?”
His gaze shifted to Matt, who nodded to show he waslistening. He wanted that toast and sausage, no matter what he hadto say or do to get it. Please…
“How’d he do that?” Jordan wanted to know. “And thefireball, at the cookout? Those flames in his hand? How—”
“It depends,” Matt admitted. He leaned forward,tongue stretching out toward the food. “Can I—”
Jordan pulled the toast out of reach. “Depends onwhat, Matthew?”
“Please,” Matt sighed. His stomach rumbled, beggingfor something to eat. “Jordan, please, it depends on a lot ofthings, okay? What we’re thinking or talking about sometimes, orwhat we’re wearing, what we aren’t.”
Confusion flickered across Jordan’s face. “What doyou mean? When?”
“When we make love.” Matt craned his neck, reachingfor the food that dangled almost forgotten in Jordan’s hand. “Howwe do it, even. That plays a big part in it. Please, just—”
“How you do what?” Jordan asked. “I don’t getit.”
Matt’s mouth salivated, and he had to swallow tochoke back his hunger. I’m so sorry, Vic; he felt like asellout, telling Jordan this, but he was famished. “How wehave sex. Like if we’re standing up, he gets one power. If he’s onhis back, he gets another. Doggy style, spooning, whatever we do,each position gives him a different ability.”
“Does he get anything from a blowjob?” Jordanasked.
“Please,” Matt sobbed. “Sometimes, okay? Jordan, I’mstarving here. Please…”
Jordan’s mouth twisted into an annoyed frown. Withbrusque hands, he shoved the toast into Matt’s mouth, hard. Thestrong, sweet taste of the sausage filled his senses like ambrosia.Matt rolled back, jaws working at the food, savoring the meatyjuices that flooded him, the crunch of the toast beneath his teeth.His eyes closed in utter satisfaction, and he heard but didn’t seeJordan storm from the bedroom, slamming the door in his wake.
* * * *
Chapter 27
It was only later that Matt began to wonder whyJordan had asked about the powers. He lay where Jordan had lefthim, in the doorway of the open closet, his sweaty skin cooled bythe air vent in the floor of the bedroom, his hands wrestling withthe knots that bound his wrists. Jordan had stormed off to anotherpart of the house—why, Matt couldn’t begin to imagine, but he wasgrateful for the lack of sexual activity. Whatever Jordan fumedabout kept him to himself and away from Matt. He couldn’t even seemto be bothered to talk with the rest of the world—when the phonerang, Matt heard Jordan’s curse as he ripped the answering machineplug from the wall. The phone rang and rang, Matt lost count of howmany times, but Jordan never answered and eventually whoever it wason the other end of the line gave up.
With the incessant ringing, an almost imperceptiblethought rose unbidden to Matt’s mind. He tried to tamp it down,tried to ignore it, wouldn’t let his mind dare give him thehope that maybe, just maybe, it was Vic calling.
He stared into Kyle’s guest bedroom, hisconsciousness picking up on one word as if it were a talisman thatwould summon a vengeful god, worrying his lover’s name over andover again as he struggled against his bonds.::Vic,:: he cried out with all the mental ability hecould muster, the word worn smooth like a rock beneath his constantcare. He timed his thoughts with the pulse of the phone, and whenit stopped ringing, he continued in the same rhythm already set.::Vic. Vic.::
Deeper in his subconscious, it bothered him that he’dtold Jordan the positions were what gave Vic his wide array ofpowers. But he’d been hungry; his lover would understand. AfterJordan left, Matt had snarfed down the rest of the food, eating itoff the plate and then licking the butter and grease left behind.Why did Jordan want to know how the different powers worked? Hemust have some inkling of them already. Matt couldn’t remember howoften he’d come the day before—he could recall being hard most ofthe time with a painful, endless erection, but Jordan had gottensomething from him. It had to
