Free Tough Love by Heidi Cullinan

dice heels made him laugh. If you want to shove one up his ass, he says he can take it.”
    Chenco continued to fight the elastic. “I stab him and he makes a joke?”
    “That would be Randy.” The elastic had rolled down enough to expose the jutting bones of Chenco’s slender hips. “I think he almost means it. It’s as I said, he feels bad he misread you.”
    “Why is it such a big deal to him?”
    The dark flesh of Chenco’s groin appeared—no hair, completely shaved. Steve’s cock took notice. “He’s a poker player. Professional. Reading people is, in every way, how he survives.”
    Chenco slid the underwear down to his thighs, and his cock sprang free, soft and springy and uncut, flopping twice before resting against low-hung, heavy balls, wrinkled from their confinement. “Well, tell him it’s fine. I’m not stabbing him again, nor am I going anywhere near his ass, and I apologize for doing it at all. They aren’t my shoes, so it’s good they’re not broken.” Chenco caught Steve examining his body and paused. “I thought you said no sexy times.” When Steve said nothing, he added, “You’re watching my cock, and your package says you have something for me.”
    “I’m watching your cock because you’re sexy and hot and I like cocks. Being interested doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.”
    “So if I told you I was interested, there’d still be no sex?”
    “Not tonight, no.”
    He couldn’t tell if Chenco was annoyed, hurt or simply confused. “Not even a quick one-off to relieve tension?”
    “I take sex very seriously. I don’t enter into it lightly.”
    “Me either.” This made Chenco give him a wry smile. “Funny how it’s probably why I almost feel like breaking my rule with you.”
    Steve was attracted too, so he figured they might as well lay it all on the table. “I need you to remember I’m a sadist.”
    Chenco stepped out of his compression underwear and reached into a drawer for a pair of briefs. “So when you have sex, there’s pain? For the person you’re having sex with?”
    Nodding, Steve watched Chenco as he fell silent, clearly thinking hard as he climbed into jeans and a T-shirt.
    “What does it mean, exactly? Sex with pain? I mean, I know a little of the lifestyle through Booker and a couple other friends, but you don’t seem like you play the same as he and Trist.”
    “It means I take pleasure in inflicting pain on my partner while engaging in intercourse. Holding him down. Bites. Pinches. I enjoy flogging a great deal, but I love edge play and needles best of all. Mostly what I love, more than anything, is to fuck someone while he cries because of pain I’ve given him.”
    Chenco studied Steve critically. “I don’t understand. I’m trying, but it frankly sounds scary and mean.”
    Steve appreciated the honesty. “Sex with pain can be scary—and I love that part. It’s terrifying for someone to turn so much trust over to you. They give it to me, believing I can take them to a high they need so desperately but cannot find on their own. Giving that to someone is a gift I take seriously. It’s power and control and terrible, crushing responsibility. It’s chaos and danger, and I’m allowed to hold it in my hand and make it something beautiful.”
    Chenco had been putting on his socks when Steve started, but stopped and sat on a bench, listening. “Wow. I’m not sure it’s for me, but you definitely make it sound good.” Steve meant to shield his thoughts so Chenco couldn’t read them, but Chenco gave Steve a little glare as he finished with his sock. “ You think it’s for me.”
    “I think you shouldn’t ever dismiss something entirely without exploring it first.”
    Now Chenco looked triumphant, like he’d caught Steve on a technicality. “You said no sex. So I can’t try it, not yet.”
    “And I told you BDSM isn’t necessarily about sex. You want to test the waters, we can start right now.”
    Chenco startled, his