[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Consensual BDSM Romance, M/M, spanking, sex toys, HEA]
Jackson Davis is considered a gay man’s wet dream but he’s tired of finding lovers that only seemed to want him for his looks and not a real relationship. One night at a bar, Jackson discovers a man watching him. The man never approaches him, never speaks to him. When Jackson finally confronts the man, he is astounded by his reaction. Thus begins Jackson’s obsession with pleasing Michael.
And what follows is a story of frustration and confusion for Jackson as Michael commands and dictates to him, rewarding Jackson when he’s good and punishing him when he's bad. Jackson is confused that he lets Michael dominate him, wondering if it makes him less of a man. Can Jackson accept the fact that pleasing Michael makes him happy or will he lose the best thing that ever happened to him?
NOTE: This book was previously at 13,000 words published as Pleasing Michael with another publisher. This version has been extensively revised and expanded to 29,249 words.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Stormy Glenn is a Siren-exclusive author.
“He’s watching again.”
Jackson Davis shrugged. “Let him.”
“It’s creepy,” Sean insisted.
Jackson rolled his eyes as he leaned over the green felt pool table and lined up for another shot. “He’s just looking, Sean. He’s not causing any harm.” Jackson raised his head and glanced at the dark-haired man watching him from across the room. “Besides, he’s kind of sexy.”
“But, he’s just…staring. It’s eerie, dude.”
Jackson chuckled. “Sean, they always stare.” Men and women tended to stare at him. Jackson was used to it. He didn’t even pay attention to it anymore.
Sean shook his head. “Not like this, man. This guy is, like, seriously obsessed with you. We’ve seen him in here every Friday night for almost two months, and every time he just sits back over there in his little corner and stares at you the entire time.”
Jackson gave the man another covert look through his eyelashes. The man was still staring at him. It was a very focused look, centered directly on Jackson and nowhere else. The man had been staring at him with that same intense gaze every time Jackson saw him in the bar.
Sean was right. It was a little creepy. Jackson was used to men staring at him. His thick-muscled body, tall stature, and tight ass had a lot of men looking. Toss in the naturally tanned skin, the sunlight-blond hair, and sea-blue eyes, and Jackson had been told he was every gay man’s wet dream.
He wasn’t so sure. If he was supposed to be every gay man’s wet dream, then what in the hell was he doing at a bar on a Friday night playing pool with his best friend instead of at home in bed with some hottie getting laid?
Jackson wished he could figure it out. He would be a much happier man. As it was, he was tired and once again facing a lonely bed when he got home tonight, which was just about how his life was every night. He should be used to it by now.
Jackson glanced at the man again. Yep, he was still staring. Jackson stood up straight and handed his pool cue to Sean. He was fed up with this. Without saying a word to Sean, Jackson walked away, crossing the room until he stood directly in front of the well-dressed man.
Jackson crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the man. He was used to his size and demeanor intimidating other people so it shocked him when the man simply raised a dark brown eyebrow at him then took a slow sip of his drink.
The guy didn’t say anything. He just continued to stare. He looked Jack up and down, an emotion shining in his eyes that Jackson couldn’t quite place. It unnerved Jackson in a way that few things could. He felt like this stranger could see right into his soul and pick out his deepest, darkest secrets.
“Is there a reason that you keep staring at me?” Jackson bit out through his clenched teeth. He wanted to be done with this and go somewhere that didn’t make him feel like his innermost thoughts were on display.
The man merely smiled. “If you didn’t want people staring at you, you wouldn’t spend so much time at Mercury’s Gym working on that sexy physique of yours now, would you?”
The cool, rusty tone of the man’s voice sent shivers down Jackson’s spine. “How’d you know that I work out at Mercury’s Gym?” Jackson asked, starting to feel increasingly nervous. Was this guy some creepy stalker dude?
The deep chuckle that filled with air was laced with amusement. “I know a lot about you.”
“Like what?” Jackson challenged.
The smirk that crossed the man’s lips infuriated Jackson. “I know that you like to work out. You also spend every Friday night in here playing pool with your friend, Sean. You only drink light beer and never more than three and you always leave by midnight so that you can get to your job washing dishes at the cafe in the morning. And I know you prefer to be called Jackson instead of Jack.”
“Have you been stalking me?” Jackson asked, feeling partly outraged and partly intrigued.
“I don’t stalk,” the man replied simply. “I have no need to.”
Jackson’s eyebrows scrunched together in a frown. “Who are you?”
Jackson was confused as he watched the man toss back the last of the drink in his hand and set the glass on the table. He should have been intimidated by Jackson’s height if not his sheer body mass. He wasn’t. He seemed to find it, and Jackson, amusing in some way.
The man grabbed his dark-brown leather jacket and pulled it on over his crisp white shirt. He tossed a few dollar bills on the table, and then turned to look at Jackson. Jackson almost jumped when the man reached over and gently ran his thumb across Jackson’s lips.
“Jackson,” the man began as he took a step toward him.
“Huh? Wha—” How did this man know his name? How did he know anything about him?
The man leaned up, his lips close Jackson’s ear, his deep masculine scent wafting over Jackson. “You know who I am, pretty boy.” The softly whispered words sent shivers of longing down Jackson’s body. He stood there in a daze as the man smiled, then turned and walked away. He watched until the man left the bar and disappeared into the night. Jackson knew something profound had just happened, but for the life of him, Jackson couldn’t figure out what.
“Strip your pants off, Jackson.” Jackson thought the man’s voice sounded just a touch deeper than before, but he couldn’t be sure. “I want to see you.”
“Here?” Jackson asked anxiously, waving his hands around at the interior of the limousine. “Now?”
“Yes, Jackson, here and now,” the man replied, his voice terse. “I’ve already told you that I don’t like repeating myself. Don’t make me do it again.”
Jackson hesitated. Should he do this? Could he do this? He still didn’t even know this man’s name and he was just supposed to strip his pants off and show off his dick?
Jackson felt the air around him crackle. That was it. He was losing his mind.
Jackson unzipped his jeans. He pushed them down his legs and off his feet. He laid them on the seat next to him. He took a deep breath for courage, and then pushed his boxers down his legs and off his body, laying them on top of his jeans.
“Oh, my, that does look painful.”
Jackson hissed as a hand brushed the top of his cock. He dug his fingers into the side of his legs to keep from humping his hips. The man was right. It was painful. Jackson ached.
“Please,” he whispered.
A hand brushed him against him again, the contact harder this time. Jackson felt it all of the way down to his toes. He whimpered and dug his fingers harder into the sides of his thighs. Suddenly, his hands were slapped. Jackson’s eyes flew up in shock.
“I told you that no one gets to mark your beautiful body except me, Jackson. I don’t want to see you do that again. Is that understood?”
Jackson nodded. He closed his eyes, trying to hide the tears of frustration that had filled them. “I’m sorry.”
“Turn over, Jackson. I want to see your ass.”
Jackson didn’t even question it this time. He just knelt on the floor and turned over so that his upper body rested on the seat bench, his lower body supported by his knees. He was so humiliated at this point he couldn’t have cared less that a complete stranger was staring at his ass. They could hang his ass from the flagpole on Main Street and he couldn’t be any more embarrassed.
“Spread your legs, Jackson.”
Jackson spread his legs. He buried his head in his arms, silently holding back his tears. He wanted to bite into his arm to keep the noise waiting to spill from his throat silent, but he remembered what the man had said.
No marking his body.
Only the man got to do that.
“You’re very pretty back here, Jackson,” the man said. Jackson shivered as a finger trailed down between his butt cheeks. His body burned at the gentle touch. “Do you want to come, Jackson?”
“Whatever you want,” Jackson murmured. A moment later, he cried out when he felt the man’s hand slap his ass. Hard. He turned his head and looked at the man in confusion. Had he answered wrong?
Jackson saw the hand coming down on his ass again as if in slow motion. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The hand came down again and again until Jackson’s ass burned and his cock throbbed.
He thought he would collapse right there on the floor when the man finally stopped spanking him, except that his cock was so hard he was afraid it would break off. He was leaking pre-cum all over the edge of the seat.
“You’ve been a very good boy, Jackson,” the man murmured in Jackson’s ear. Jack’s heart thudded faster. “I’ve already rewarded you with a spanking, but I think you need to take the edge off before we reach the party.”
The spanking was a reward? Jackson didn’t know what to think, so he decided not to. It just seemed easier that way. Thoughts brought confusion. Confusion brought questions. And Jackson didn’t know what questions to ask.
Jackson felt a cold liquid drip into the crack of his ass. He hissed at the contact and buried his face in his arms again. A moment later, a cold object pressed against his hole. It was pushed in slowly until it popped past the first ring of muscles, then farther.
Jackson gasped as it slid home. It was only then that Jackson realized the man had placed a butt plug in his ass. It wasn’t huge or heavy like some plugs, but just enough to let Jackson know it was there and to drive him crazy with every movement.
“I’m going to fuck you with this plug now, Jackson,” the man said, “but you’re not to come until I tell you to. Understood?”
Jackson nodded, even though he didn’t think that would be a problem. He hadn’t been able to come for a week, and he had even tried a butt plug. Nothing was going to make him come, nothing.
Jackson felt the man start twisting the plug around in his ass. He took a couple of deep gulps of air. The plug was turned this way and that, then pushed in and out. Jackson started to groan and push his hips back against the intruding object.
He was amazed at how good it felt to have someone else do this for him. It seemed to make all the difference in the world. Even though he still didn’t think he was going to come, Jackson felt the heat of passion flowing through his body like a forest fire.
“Do you like that, Jackson?” The man’s voice sounded husky.
“Yes, oh god, yes!” Jackson moaned.