Decoding Desires Ch. 03

"Up, up, come on, Cody. Upsidaisy." The world moves and I'm on my feet, but I'm not standing, Lee's supporting most of my weight. I feel drunk, but not in a swimmy way. Maybe high, I dunno. I'm so stupid tired that I can't even explain why I'm so tired.

"You're strong," I slur.

He chuckles, half dragging me down the hall. He gets my door open and sits me down on the bed. I immediately crawl into the comfort of my bed and I'm asleep again.

Later I wake up and I'm still tired as hell, but the sun is up and my body knows the sun means it's time to be awake, so I am. I remember last night and I'm instantly ashamed and running around the house looking for Lee before I remember I can just check for his car.

It's gone, and I feel like a complete tool. I pour cereal for breakfast and am halfway through the bowl when I hear my phone ringing from the other room. I get up to get it, but it stops ringing before I can answer.

I'm temporarily disappointed to see it's Carrie and not Lee, then I feel bad for feeling that way. I call her back.

"Good morning, Coco," she sings into the phone.

"Sorry," I apologize, knowing it's unnecessary but I do it out of habit mostly. "Was eating."

"Mmm-hmm," she hums. "I gotta cancel lunch today, but I heard through the grapevine that you're off tomorrow, too?"

"Yeah," I say, my mind elsewhere. I'd somehow forgotten that today was Thursday and I was spending it with Lee, and also today was my day off and I'd promised Carrie to meet her for lunch. Like, I knew each was Thursday, I guess I didn't put together that they were both today, as dumb as that sounds.

"So, lunch tomorrow then?" she asks.

My brain catches up with the conversation. "Wait, how'd you know I'm off tomorrow, too?"

She laughs and I know instantly that she's been talking to Lee. "I have my ways."

"Stop talking to Lee about me!" I snap, irritated that she seems to have a bunch of Lee's attention. We aren't even dating, I don't have the right to be jealous, but I am all the same.

"He's my friend, Coco. Don't be jelly."

"I'm not jealous," I growl. I'm totally jealous and we both know it.

"Mmm-hmm," she agrees in that way that irritates me to no end. "Anyway, lunch tomorrow instead. It works better for me anyway, I have some stuff I need to finish up today."

"Is this because I had plans with Lee today?" I ask, feeling dumb for overbooking myself.

"Eh, doesn't matter. It really does work out better for me at work anyway. I'll call you after work, okay?"

I sigh. "I can meet today," I say.

"Nope, you've got plans, and I'm busy. Tomorrow it is. Tell Lee I said hi!"

"Carrie, wait!" I exclaim, but she's hung up already. I stare at my phone for a second, feeling manipulated somehow, then realize the text message icon is up in the notification bar. I open up my texts and find I have three missed texts from Lee.

'Let myself out, thanks for having me over.' 'I'll call you in the morning.' And finally, 'Text me when you up.'

I text him 'Thanks for last night, sorry I was a bummer.'

He texts me back almost instantly. 'Not at all. Can I come over, or do you wanna come here?'

Shit. I wanna go there. Like, all of the want. I want to see Lee's inner sanctum, be around his stuff and snoop like the voyeur I am. More than that, I want to see Lee in his natural habitat. I tell him that in a way that I hope doesn't make me sound like a creep. He texts me his address and I google maps the route as I'm getting dressed.

He only lives twenty two minutes away, accounting for current traffic. Close enough that I'm nervous giddy with the potential for us to see each other all the time. I start the car and call the clinic as I'm pulling onto the street. I'm so nervous that I'm feeling a little queasy, and I'm glad all I ate was half a bowl of cereal.

Lee lives in a nice neighborhood, very strongly upper-middle class, full of rows and rows of nearly identical McMansions. While I despise McMansions, built cheap and priced ridiculously, it makes me feel a little unworthy. While my ranch is perfectly acceptable for a single working-class guy, it's nothing compared to the houses in this neighborhood. I pull down a side street and suddenly the houses are a lot older, though still nice, they aren't the McMansions that I passed already.

I pass Lee's house the first time, I didn't see any house numbers on a few houses in a row, then I passed right by his. I turn around and park, and suddenly I'm so nervous I'm finding it hard to breath.

His house is nice, a cute little blue bungalow, three steps up to a small porch next to the front door. There's a wicker chair and a small glass table, and it's about as adorable of a house as I've seen. I can tell it's old, but it looks well kept, and I instantly like Lee a tiny bit more because he obviously loves his house.

I take a few breaths as I study his house, trying to find my ground before I force myself out of the car. As soon as I'm out I have to stop myself from running like an overexcited toddler to his front door. Again, the contradictions in my emotional state do not go unnoticed.

He answers the door just when I'm getting ready to knock a second time. "Hey, Cody, come in," he says, stepping back. I'm blushing for no good reason other than I'm seeing Lee in his natural habitat. I step inside, unable to stop myself from surveying his living room and foyer, trying to see the character of the house, and also Lee's character in the house.

The front room is a soft beige color that instantly calms me down a bit. He's got older furniture, I can see wear showing on the arms of the recliner, and faint spots where the fabric was thinning on the loveseat. His coffee table is covered in magazines and books, the two I can see are a magazine called Optical Prism and a book called The Best Book Ever for Jokes About Opticians. His TV is mounted over a fireplace that has gas burning logs right next to the big bay window that overlooks his front yard.

"Nice house," I say, feeling dumb the minute it leaves my mouth. "I mean, I like it."

"Thanks," he replies, and is he blushing as he closes the door? "You must see a lot of houses, right? In your job."

"Yep," I agree, kicking off my shoes. It's hot outside today, too hot to be reasonable, but it's the perfect temperature in Lee's house, not too chilly as to make the temperature difference jarring, just cool enough that it feels comfortable.

"Want a quick tour?" he asks, and I suddenly realize I didn't give him one of my place, and he'd already been there twice. What a tool.

"Sure," I say. He shows me around and I love his house more and more. He's got the cutest spare room, it looks like it should be in a Country Living magazine, all yellow and pale blue with pictures of birds on the wall. His ears turn a little pink when I tell him that, and I like that I'm affecting him like this. He shows me every room in the house except his bedroom, and I'm curious, but I don't want to overstep my boundaries.

"Did you eat?" he asks when we get back to the kitchen.

"I had a light breakfast. Not super hungry right now. You?"

He shrugs. "I'm not that hungry, either."

We stand in his kitchen, his back to the sink, and me in the doorframe. There's a moment of silence between us and neither of us seem to know what to say. I break it because each second of quiet is stacking like pebbles in my stomach. "I really do like your house. It's very cute."

He sniffs out a laugh. "Not sure men like to have their houses labeled as 'cute'."

"Sorry, I just meant that it's nice. I like it. Didn't mean to imply, you know?"

Lee exhales. "I know what you meant." He takes a deep breath and then turns to me. "Can I tell you something?"

I nod. "Yeah, of course."

"I'm really nervous right now. I don't... I don't usually invite guys that I've known for such a short period of time over to my house. I don't, um, I actually don't invite guys to my house at all, like, I don't, um." He sighs, then runs his hands through his hair. I notice he's wearing khakis and a button up shirt, he looks good, but he always looks good. I wonder if he wears casual wear at all.

"I'm sorry, I can go if it makes-"

"No! I wanted..." He runs his hands through his hair again and it sticks up in places and I love how it looks messy, and I want to mess it up more. I want to run my fingers through his hair while we're kissing, or... I shut down that train of thought quickly, this wasn't time to be having sexy distracting thoughts.

He tries again. "I really feel like you're different," he says, looking at me. I meet his eyes and I'm suddenly super embarrassed, but in a good way. I turn away and he sighs. "Sorry if I'm coming on too strong. It's just, I dunno. I feel like we might be really compatible, like I already feel this connection with you, and maybe it's just me, and you can tell me to back off and I will."

"Thank you," I whisper, my throat tight with emotion. "You're not coming off strong. I mean, I like strong. No, I mean, like, ah." I'm struggling to find the right words, and my brain isn't cooperating at all, not when my dick is two thirds hard despite how much I told it not to get sexy distracted. "I got my results in today." Not sure why I said that right now. Dammit, I'm seriously screwing this up.

Lee's gaze is holding me in place or I'd be pacing right now. "Did you?"

"Called on the way here."

"And?" he asks, sounding hopeful.

"Clean," I reply. "Kinda figured it would be, I haven't been with anyone since..." I can't say Jace's name, I refuse to sully Lee's house with his shadow. "Anyway, I've been single for a while, I guess."

Lee is a statue, then he exhales long and slow. "Cody, do you wanna play?"

"Play?" I ask, unsure what he's talking about. "Games?"

"No. Do you wanna be my Brat right now?"

"Oh shit. Fuck yes," I say, the answer out of my mouth before I even have time to fully register what Lee said. "Sir," I add after my brain processes it a bit.

Lee pushes himself off the counter and heads towards me. I'm leaning on the wall, the door frame on my spine, so giddy and nervous my legs are turning to jelly. "Fuck, Cody." He moves into my personal space, then past it, and then we're kissing, one of his hands already threaded in my curls. The other one lands on my hip and pulls me towards him, and I realize that I'm not the only one who's been thinking sexy distracting thoughts.

"Hmm, Lee," I hum between kisses. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him deeper into our kisses, and fuck, he kisses me like he was born to do it, it's so good. I've never been kissed this much, Jace didn't like kissing, and boyfriends before Jace were never long-term. I hadn't realized until right now how much I love kissing a man.

Maybe not any man. I love kissing Lee. Our kisses are growing more intense, and suddenly he's pressing me so hard against the doorframe that my back cracks loud enough for him to hear it. He pulls off me so fast I'm disoriented.

"Did I do something?"

"No, no," he dismisses. "You wanna, um. I haven't shown you my bedroom yet."

"I didn't want to ask and be rude," I said, feeling a little high from his kisses.

"Do you want to see my bedroom, Brat?" he asks, his tone growing lower.

"Yes, Sir," I reply.

"Fuck, Brat, are you always so eager?"

I turn my gaze to the floor. "Only when it involves you, Sir."

Lee groans and I look up to find him staring at me with his wild bedroom eyes. "Then let me show you." He takes my hand and squeezes by me through the door, then tugs me down the hallway. "I don't let just anyone in my bedroom, Brat."

I feel so stupid special that my face might break with how hard I'm smiling, then I remember my dream from yesterday and I know I don't deserve to see his room until I tell him I broke my promise.

I plant my feet and he tugs, then stops when he realizes I stopped. "You okay?" he asks, looking concerned.

"I, ah..." I can't say it, it's so hard to say. I let his hand go, and now I'm dancing foot to foot with nervous energy. "I can't."

"Oh. Okay," Lee says, hiding his disappointment as well as he can. "I'm sorry if I-"

"I broke the rule!" I nearly shout, though I didn't mean to.

I'm not looking at Lee, I can't look at him, so the few breaths of silence between us are driving me crazy. "What rule?"

"I, um." I have to swallow three times before I can say it, and he waits patiently for me the whole time. My dick is throbbing, the dirty slut. "Ihadawetdreamtuesdaynight," I say so fast all the words rush together into one big long jumble.

"What was that, Brat?" Sir asks, his voice stern in the best way. My balls ache at his tone, and I can't say it again, but those words, that command, it's a truth serum.

"Sir. I'm sorry, Sir. I had a, um. I woke up yesterday and I'd come. Um, in my sleep."

"You had a wet dream?" Sir asks in a way that says he already knows the answer but he wants to torture it out of me first.

"I haven't had one in years and I didn't, I mean, I can't control it, but I came, and that counts, and I didn't wanna tell you because I'd be in trouble, so I didn't, but I knew I needed to tell you, because it counts, and I don't deserve to see your bedroom because I didn't tell you sooner and I'm-"

Sir's fingers are against my lips, stopping my rapidly accelerating babbling session. "Brat, what was your wet dream about?"

My face must be as red as a cherry. "You, Sir," I whisper around his finger.

He slides his hand down my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. "What were we doing, in your dream?"

Even with all of my nervous sexy time stress I can't resist being myself. "You made me eat the floor, it was marshmallow, but in reality was actually my pillow."

"You had a wet dream about me forcing you to eat a marshmallow floor?"

I try to look away and he holds me in place with the gentlest of touches on my chin. "No, Sir. It was the fucking you gave me after you forced me to eat the floor that made me cum."

He studies my face for a moment, then a wicked smile spreads across his face. "You really are a brat, aren't you?"

I bite my lower lip, trying to look anywhere but his eyes, but he's my whole world right now. "Yes, Sir. Is that bad?"

"So bad," he coos just before his lips land on mine and we're kissing again. He presses me against the wall in the hallway and kisses me hard, pressing his whole body against mine, and fuck, I want this man so much that I feel I'll die if he doesn't let me touch him today. "Did I fuck you good in your dream?"

"I came right as you thrust into me, Sir," I say, trying to catch my breath, loving how it feels to have his whole body smothering me against the wall.

"How'd I take you, Brat?"

I clear my throat and try to look away again, but he's still my whole world, there's literally nothing else to look at. "You pressed my face into the floor and told me to eat it, lifted my hips in the air and took me doggy style. Well, more like downward doggy style, but, ah. Yeah."

"Brat, you're in so much trouble. You came twice when I told you not to, didn't you?"

My hands are cupping his ass and each cheek fits in my palms like they were molded for me. "Yes, Sir," I whisper, burying my face into his neck so I don't have to look at him directly. It's just as bad, though, he smells too good. I'm kissing his neck before I realize it, and he tastes good. It's the first bit of skin of his that I've had the opportunity to taste, other than his lips and mouth, and it's already not enough.

I want more. I don't think I'll ever get enough of Lee.

Lee moans softly, then pulls away from me and my lips are instantly lonely. He takes my hand and pulls me towards his room. "You don't get to decide your own punishment, Brat," he says as he pushes his door open.

The room is pitch black, and a moment later he turns the lights on and I see that he's got light blocking curtains in his windows. His bedroom blows my mind, like, I'm literally speechless for a moment. First, the room is about the darkest shade of red I've ever seen. His king-sized bed is the centerpiece of the room at first, black sheets and blankets. Black pillows. It's got solid wood posts on each corner, and it must have cost a fortune.

It takes me a moment to break my eyes away from his amazing bed, and when I do my mind shuts down completely and I need to reboot it. On one wall he has a rack, and hanging from the rack are...

"Are those paddles?" I squeak.

He nods. I look back at him and he's watching me closely. "Paddles, floggers, and canes. I, ah." He runs his hand through his hair. "I collect things that I, um, would maybe wanna use one day."

There's normal stuff in his room, too, a dresser and a closet, but the pictures on his walls are of men in leather being spanked, restrained, and holy fuck I'm overwhelmed, but in a good way. Still, I stagger and he catches me before I can fall. "Fuck, Lee."

"Too much?" he asks, sounding fragile.

"Fuck that noise," I snap. "Fucking hell, this is, fuck. LIke, wow. Just, um, all of those are, like, um, for spanking? Do you, like, other guys-"

"No!" he barks. "I don't bring, I haven't brought anyone but you in here, I'm too embarrassed, like, most guys don't, aren't into it."

"I've never been spanked. Not even as a kid." I hear the tremble in my voice.

"We don't have to do this, if you're-"

"Sir, I broke the rules twice," I interrupt, terrified of being spanked, but also it's something I'm longing for, like, I didn't know I wanted it until right now, and shit, do I want it.

Sir drags in a deep breath, then blows it out. "You're really something, Cody," he whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around me from behind, then pulls me against his body. His bulge fits between my cheeks perfectly. He kisses my ear, then bites it, gently at first, then harder. I squeak and he laughs.

"Coffee?" he asks, giving me one last chance to escape.

"No thank you, Sir," I say, then swallow hard, waiting for his direction.

"Good boy, Brat," he says, and I'm so stupid happy that I pleased him. He pulls away from me again and then moves around me to sit on the bed. "So, you've been bad?"

I study his floor, beautiful hardwood flooring that isn't a laminate, I can tell. "Yes, Sir," I whisper. A tremor passes through my whole body like lightning.

"Well, that means I'll have to punish you, doesn't it?" I nod. "Brat, I asked you a question."

"Yes, Sir," I gasp at the intensity of his voice.

"Come here," he demands. I take one wobbly step, then another, until I'm standing in front of him. He looks me over, taking his time, and he knows what he's doing to me, or at least I hope he does. "Good boy," he finally says. I relax a tiny bit. "Take your pants down, but don't take them off. Just pull them under your ass."

"Yes, Sir." I unbutton my jeans and pull them down, my hands shaking the whole time, so embarrassed that Sir can see my precum messy erection front and center. I'm shaking now, dancing from foot to foot with nervous energy.

"Did I tell you to pull your underwear down, too?" he asks.

"No Sir," I say, my pitch higher than I'd like. He chuckles. "Sorry, Sir." I go to pull my underwear up and he stops me, holding my hands in his.

"Did you wear these underwear for me?" he asks, a finger trailing over the waistband.

I swallow hard. "Yes, Sir. You asked, um, I didn't the other day, in the text."

The look of need and pleasure on Sir's face lets me know that I've done a good job. I'm still dancing with need, I can't seem to stand still. "Brat, take your jeans off all the way. Socks, too, but pull the underwear back up."

"Yes, Sir," I say, then swallow hard as I move to do what he's demanded. I almost fall trying to take my socks off, I'm too shaky to have any sort of balance. Sir's hand closes over my forearm and steadies me as I finish.