Page 16 of The Barn: Frost and Q

Thirteen

Q uentin had done everything Frost asked him to do.

He’d cleaned up, he’d gotten himself cleaned out, and he was dressed in comfortable soft clothing.

He’d picked up the apartment, dimmed the lights just enough, and gotten a couple of those fake candles burning.

He didn’t like the idea of a fire, so he never burned real ones.

And he was ready for whatever Frost had coming his way.

The fact was, he was probably more than ready. The serious conversation they’d had unsettled him and left him jittery and ready to jump out of his own skin. He needed Frost to ground him again. He needed a scene to put him into his space and let him get out of his own head.

Frost was so good at that. So wonderful and so easy with him. That was one reason Q had fallen for him. Nothing else had ever been so easy.

And even when things hadn’t been simple, even when they’d been harder than anything had ever been in his whole life, he hadn’t wanted to lose Frost. Every time he looked at those stupid divorce papers, he wanted to burn them, but he really didn’t do that either unless he was outside at the firepit.

Frost didn’t knock when he came back. He used his key to get through the door instead of buzzing.

“Hey, baby.” Frost smiled at him, those hazel eyes so bright, just on fire for him. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. I did what you asked me to do.”

“Excellent. You know I love it when you’re a good boy.”

“Uh-huh. You did say there were going to be rewards if I was good.”

“Did I say that?” Frost carried an overnight bag with him again, and he set it down on the coffee table, coming over to give Q a kiss. He smelled Quentin’s hair, breathing deep, and Quentin heard Frost chuckle. “You washed up well.”

“I did. The ‘out’ was easier than the in, but I wasn’t about to ask somebody else to come help me.”

“But you’re not too tired, and you didn’t hurt yourself?”

He listened to Frost’s tone as well as his words and realized that it was a concerned Dom asking a sub a question, not Frost asking poor weak Q a question. It made a difference. Active listening, his therapist called it.

“I’m not too tired. I was careful, and I need this, Sir. My skin doesn’t fit.”

“Well, that I think I know how to fix.” He got one of those dangerous smiles, the ones that meant Frost was in Dom mode.

“I hope so.” Quentin loved a little danger in his man. “How do you want me, Sir?”

“Mmmm. How do you feel about the bed today, boy? Since we have it at our disposal.” Frost had spent a good bit of time asking him about his body, about what could hurt when and how to get around it.

“Beds are one of the best places for this, I think, Sir.” And Q was more than ready.

“Good.” Frost winked at him. “Let’s get you settled, then. I think sitting up with your back to the headboard.”

“Yes, Sir.” He wheeled over to the bed, which was made with clean sheets. “Partition open or closed?”

“Closed, please.”

He hit the remote, and suddenly they were in a cozy, warm cocoon of a room.

“Nice.” Frost had brought his bag over before they were closed in, and he rummaged in it, coming out with all sorts of things. Cuffs. Bondage tape, which was fab because it only stuck to itself, that blindfold…

He had a feeling he couldn’t avoid it this time.

He also had a feeling he might not have to. There was nowhere safer than this room right now. Nowhere on earth.

Frost was with him. His husband. His Dom. And they were in such a better place than they had been. So yeah. He thought he might be ready.

Then Frost laid out a feather, a leather strip, and a tiny, super-soft-tailed flogger, and his mouth went totally dry. Whoosh.

He blinked up at his Dom, his belly going tight, his mind scrambling and buzzing.

“Mmmhmm.” Frost beamed at him. “Let’s get you undressed, yeah? I want to see all of you.”

Q nodded and smiled, then pulled off his shirt. “I want to be seen.”

At least he thought so.

Sometimes, he worried that Frost would find the changes to his body…not great. But so far that had proven untrue.

In fact, his upper body was looking kind of amazing. His lower body improved daily.

“Mmm. So pretty.” Frost reached for his pants, tugging at the soft sweats.

“I try. I want to be a man you want to see.” In fact, he worked for it.

“You are, baby. I love how you look.” Frost ran a finger down his sternum.

His nipples went hard, his abs rippling. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” That grin was wolfish, and he had to laugh. Someone had plans.

He was ready—not just for Frost’s attention, but for the man’s focus.

“I’ve got ties that I will attach to the bed, love, and then to the cuffs. That way, you can move. I’m not going to bind your feet, but I will loosely tape your ankles individually so you can see what it feels like.” Frost started setting things out on the bed.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll tell you if I can’t handle it. You have my word.” Literally and figuratively, Q guessed.

“Good deal. Settle yourself comfortably, arms down, hands on the bed, the insides of your wrists up.”

“Yes, Sir.” He arranged himself, his mind going a million miles a minute. Not really because he was wondering if this was a bad idea or was this a situation he wasn’t capable of, but just…randomness.

He wondered why the hair on his head had come in silver, and his pubes were still dark.

He wondered about whether or not the new security guards were going to work out or run panicking into the night the first time they saw a bear.

Also, what about that one sub, Jeremiah?

Was he ever going to find somebody to turn him inside out?

What about Zeke? Were they really just going to leave the cabin open for him forever?

What would they do if someone came in with a seeing-eye dog or another type of support animal?

Dude, wouldn’t an emotional support porcupine be cool?

He loved that idea. Maybe it would be nice to have a support animal, and porcupines were so…

prickly. Maybe he should get a dog. He liked dogs.

Dogs were friendly and fuzzy, and they rarely stuck quills in you.

It might be tough to take them out from up here, though.

He’d have to hire someone to do that. Maybe that could be a kink.

Maybe some people could pay them to do that.

‘I want you to take care of my dog and pick up poop. Consider it service.’

One of his nipples was taken and twisted quite firmly, bringing him right back to Frost. “Stay with me, baby.”

“I am!”

That earned him another harsh tug.

“Okay! I’m trying. I’m sorry.”

Another tug.

“Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Thank you, good boy. Bring it back in here.” Frost stroked his belly now, the movement featherlight. “You know I love the way that your brain works. I love all the spins and weirdness and every bit of it, but right now, I need you to stay with me. Got it?”

Quentin nodded, cheeks warming. “Yes. I’m sorry, Sir, I just…” He shrugged, his wrists still on the mattress.

“Have this amazing mind that goes from zero to one thousand miles a minute?” Frost chuckled softly, the sound deep.

“I know. But sometimes you need to be able to turn it off. I can do that for you.” There was no doubt in Frost’s voice.

Not at all. And it felt so good to hear. It was amazing and necessary.

“I want you to do that for me.” He craved it. The quiet that came after Frost brought him to his center.

Frost nodded, attaching the cuffs to his wrists, one after the other, then the restraints to the cuffs. Every move was slow. Deliberate.

He had a moment of panic. He had it every time he was put in bondage. It didn’t last long.

He’d been doing this long enough to understand that, but he still had to fight every single time not to jerk away and scream, ‘take those off me.’ He figured one day it wouldn’t matter; one day it would be easy. But that wasn’t going to be today or tomorrow.

Maybe the week after.

“I’ve got you.” There were no secrets from Frost. Not anymore. Frost knew. “I’m listening, so just breathe. You remember; in and out and in and out. That’s right.”

He nodded and focused on his breathing, in and out, again and again, until his lungs were full and his focus was on his Dom.

“You’re all right.” It wasn’t a question, and he nodded again in agreement.

“It’s not real.”

“I know. You know you’re safe with me.”

And it occurred to him that was the first time he’d heard that from Frost in a long time. Not only the words, but the belief. Frost knew that Q was honestly safe with him.

“I am. Safer with you than anyone else.”

“I love you, baby boy. You’ve got this.” Frost moved down to rub his feet, and the deep caress was enough to make his eyes cross and to make him understand that it didn’t matter. He could be tied up forever, so long as that touch just didn’t stop.

“You’re tense.”

“I’m not trying to be. I think my feet always are from trying to keep me upright. That’s why the chair is so much easier, so I don’t have to think.”

“That makes sense. Right now, you don’t have to think. I don’t want you to do anything but feel and do what you’re told.”

He chuckled softly. “Feeling is pretty easy. Doing what I’m told…”

“Don’t make me beat you,” Frost teased, and they both cracked up.

“Yes, Sir. You have my word.”

“Such a good boy.” Frost pressed his thumb into the ball of the foot he held, and Q wanted to melt in pure bliss.

Frost moved up his legs and then into his hips, which always hurt as well from bouncing and from sitting in the chair.

It didn’t matter what position he was in, his legs hurt.

Frost’s hands were warm, the fingers so agile, and they knew all of his spots now.

It was like Frost had set out to discover everything different about his body and memorize it, just like the man had decided to learn him the first time.

“So I was thinking today we might do some sensory stuff,” Frost told him. “That’s why I brought the feather and the little flogger.”