Jackson laughed, not bothered at all that we now knew he had trouble sleeping. “I think learning about my fear of ghosts is more humiliating than my sleep troubles.”
“Still,” Mike winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Jackson waved it off. “And yes, sounds I can’t locate can trigger it, making it hard for me to feel safe enough to sleep.”
“I’m glad I was picked as your roommate then,” Mike grinned. “My snoring must come in handy.”
We all laughed at that as the mood in the room lifted.
“Find out who hurt him,” Polly said, not caring that Jackson was afraid of someone like her. Another reason why I loved Polly over the other ten ghosts we had living here. “I’ll tell the others. We won’t make a peep while he’s visiting.”
I nodded when Jackson wasn’t looking and then we were ghost free for now.
Chapter 2
Jackson
Present time.
The random sub I’d picked out for the night was just what I’d needed. After another horrible phone call with my father, I needed to escape for a bit. We were in my room in the middle of a scene when my door opened and Mike’s horrified face came into view. What was he even doing home?! Ever since he started dating Vera, he’d pretty much lived at her place. It had to be three in the morning.
“I um, I, I’ll just go,” he muttered and quickly ran out the door, closing it forcefully behind him.
I sighed and apologized to the man kneeling in front of me. Thankfully, he was one of those who loved exhibitionism and didn’tseem to mind Mike’s entrance, in fact it only seemed to work in my favor.
As soon as we were done, I dropped the sub off at his home. Something I always did when scenes ended. I felt more comfortable knowing the man I’d been with had gotten home safely.
It was now five in the morning and I figured I could wait a few hours before seeking Mike out and working through the trauma I’d probably just caused him. The reason he was home so late, or home at all, didn’t bode well.
If I thought I would get some sleep, Mike’s presence in my room proved that tonotbe the case. I sighed and sat down next to him on my bed. “Everything okay with Vera?” I asked, knowing that was the most important thing to ask first.
He shook his head. “We had a big fight and… yeah, she broke up with me.”
Damn. “I’m sorry, Mike. I know she means a lot to you.” A lot was an understatement; Mike had been obsessed with Vera since the first time he saw her. But they fought a lot and had very different ideas on how relationships worked. Even with love between two people, it was not always enough for a happy relationship.
He rubbed his eyes, which were red rimmed, something I hadn’t noticed until now. “It was for the best. I know that, but damn, it hurts right now.” I nodded with sympathy. I had never been in love, not that I hadn’t thought about how nice it would be to have a boyfriend I could dote on and come home to. It just hadn’t happened to me yet.
“Anything I can do?” I offered.
“Please don’t bring up whips and leather around me, then I’ll be fine.”
I laughed and he soon joined.
“I traumatized you, didn’t I?” I asked, grinning widely.
“Oh, for sure. I can never look at leather the same way again.” He shook his head, but was still smiling.
“I’ll go to clubs instead of bringing them home,” I said. I hated going to those clubs, they weren’t safe and they held a certain level of seediness that didn’t help me at all. I needed to feel safe to do a scene, and those places just weren’t, but I couldn’t bring them back here anymore either. That wasn’t fair to Mike.
I was glad now that I’d told Mike as soon as we became roommates in college that I was gay. At least he wasn't shocked that it wasa man; just that that man was kneeling in front of me with his hands tied behind his back while I stood with my dick in hand.
Walking into work Monday had my mood souring instantly. It was as though this huge building held some kind of curse. As soon as you entered, your happiness vanished. Or it could just be me it had that effect on.
I walked to the elevator, daring one last glance at my formfitting suit and gelled up hair. I hated looking like this. But at least I’d rebelled with my tattoos and piercings. Father wanted the perfect son to take over his company, not a gay son, or a “rockstar wannabe” as he’d called me when he saw my tattoos. I’d spent a week when I turned eighteen getting as many tattoos and piercings as possible. It was my way of owning my own body. For so long I’d felt like he owned me. All my tattoos were a sign of my freedom. He couldn’tremove them. Just like he couldn’t change I was into men and not the dozens of women he tried to set me up with.
My phone rang before I’d even vacated the elevator. I sighed, already knowing it would be dear old Dad. Pulling my phone out of the too-tight-for-phones suit pocket, I saw it was, in fact, Father. Ever since I finished college, he’d called me every morning, making sure I was up and at the office. Fucking controlling bastard. I didn’t evenwantto go to college. To be honest, I just wanted something simple. I would’ve loved being a tattoo artist, but I’d never been able to draw and practice, so that dream would never happen no matter what. Had Father allowed me to draw as a child, it might’ve been possible.
I’d fantasized about opening my own store and selling something, but what, I had no idea. I didn’t know what my hobbies were. I’d never been able to truly be free to explore what I enjoyed doing other than watch tv and hang out with friends. It was actually my friend Nico who’d introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle. We’d been drunk and I’d told him I needed to feel in control and that I needed something to make my mind close off everything else. I’d also been adamant I wasn’t about to start doing drugs when he looked at me with worry.
