Free Ratchet by Chris Owen, Jodi Payne

Ratchet
    By Chris Owen and Jodi Payne
    Tobias let himself into Noah's apartment and made sure he locked the door behind him. It was already past four and there were a few things he wanted to do before Noah got home from work.
    Plus, an unlocked door would let Noah know that he was there, and that just wasn't right.
    Tobias loved surprises, if he was the one setting them up. He wasn't so fond of being on the receiving end. That, he figured, was one of the essential reasons why he was a Dom and not a sub; it all came down to control and who was in charge.
    A Torquere Press Sip - 1

    He walked through the silent apartment and went to Noah's room, double checking that his sub's supply of lube was handy. At his own home, and out at his farm, there was never any question.
    But this was Noah's space, and Tobias wasn't as strict about such things in places he didn't own and manage for himself.
    Assured that everything from that angle was taken care of, he went back to the living room, took off his coat and draped it over a chair, leaving his shoes there as well. Then he sat on the couch and waited, his fingers twitching. It was, he hoped, the only outward sign of his mood.
    He hadn't seen Noah in three days, and it was more than time to work off a little excess energy.
    Tobias tended to get restless if he was without his submissive for too long.
    Noah got off work at four o'clock. Tobias assumed that Noah took public transportation home --
    the subway or a city bus -- but it occurred to him that he'd never asked. Four-fifteen went by, four-twenty; by four twenty-five he was pacing and looking out the window, as if that might bring Noah home faster.
    The sound of keys jangling in the hall rallied him again and he hurried back to the couch and took his seat, draping one arm across the back and casually crossing his legs. He heard the deadbolt slide free and then the scrape and click of Noah's key in the door before the door itself opened. Noah stepped in and tugged the key free of the lock before closing it, his hat in one hand and his coat hanging open on his shoulders.
    "Freeze," Tobias said quietly, not moving. "Take off the coat, set the hat down. Then come here."
    Noah's head snapped around and he stared hard at Tobias for a brief moment, obviously startled.
    An instant later his fingers fell away from his firearm at his hip and his eyes lowered dutifully to the floor.
    He said nothing as he followed Tobias' orders, taking off his coat and setting it on top of Tobias', along with his hat and his gun. A few obedient steps brought him to Tobias' feet where he knelt and displayed, arms crossed behind his back making his blue uniform shirt stretch tightly across his chest.
    "Good afternoon, pet," Tobias said, studying him. He was beautiful, as always, but Tobias had a special fondness for Noah in his police uniform. Especially with his belt on. So many things on that belt. A flashlight, his holster, a pad for taking notes... his handcuffs. Tobias felt his already half-hard cock throb into full blood. "Did you have a good day?"
    "Yes, sir." Noah replied. Though still submissive and respectful, Noah's voice often sounded a bit deeper and more authoritative when he was fresh off a shift. "A quiet day, sir, which in my business is a very good day. You?"
    "Boring." Tobias reached out and touched Noah's cheek. "You smell good."
    A Torquere Press Sip - 2

    "Hm. Men's locker room, patrol car vinyl, city pollution… oh, and that hot dog I had for lunch,"
    Noah shook his head. "That's quite a cocktail, sir. You, on the other hand, smell like toothpaste and surgical soap. Clean and fresh. Sexy. Irresistible." Noah was catching on, it appeared.
    "Oh, there's nothing wrong with a little resistance." Tobias almost purred as he leaned over even farther, almost off the couch to kiss Noah hard. He held on to one shoulder, mostly for his own balance, and with the other neatly snagged Noah's cuffs from his belt.
    Noah's hand made a grab for the cuffs