Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

wanted, something he'd searched for all his life. And somehow Will knew exactly what had drawn Sinn to him.
    The question being would he use it to destroy Sinn, or was there something else waiting in the shadows? Something that Sinn wanted so bad, he'd put his life in the hands of a young, attractive stranger?
    Sinn honed in on the emotions sparking through him these last hours in the company of Will, a man whose last name he didn't even know. But somehow it didn't matter. It didn't matter what his name was, it was the man inside the skin that had seduced Sinn and it was a form of seduction Sinn had never experienced before. Except when he was immersed in his music. But then, that was even different than the feeling he had around Will. At one level it scared Sinn to realize how quickly he had succumbed to the man's seductive charisma. And yet, Sinn knew Will was exactly the type of man Sinn had been waiting for all his life. What he didn't understand was how it had happened so quickly. But it didn't matter.
    He took some deep breaths which helped to steady him. He considered his situation, he considered the man who had left him bound here and then disappeared. With an odd certainty, Sinn knew he'd come back. He hadn't left him here to die. He wasn't planning to kill him. Sinn leaned forward until his forehead rested against the padded floor. He closed his eyes. An image of Will, larger than life, appeared inside his head.
    Do you trust me?
    Yes, I trust you.
    The tension flowed out of Sinn. He waited with a surety and a patience he'd never expected to feel with another man again. A peace and sense of rightness he'd never thought possible. The feeling amazed him. All his life he'd fought–Montana, his stepfather, his background, the men who'd used him for their own amusement in L.A. Somehow it all slipped away, and the fight left him. It exhausted him. It was as though all the walls trapping him inside had crumbled and he was free in a way he'd never been before. Not for the entirety of his life. Now, the darkness felt like a warm cocoon and he embraced the feeling of being swaddled inside. And once again his arousal began to build. This tension that grew inside him was not one of trepidation, it was one of being reborn and arising into a new skin. He wanted this, fuck, but he wanted this. This was exactly where he was meant to be. He eased himself carefully into this new mantle--one of submission and acceptance.
    Will .
    Then the room was lit by the soft glow of the bare bulb. He blinked, then angled his head and squinted upward and saw the simple light fixture slowly descend toward him, halting just above his head. A whisper of sound caught his attention and had him turning to the paneled walls. His gaze widened when the panels in front of him flipped around and white panels appeared. The floor-to-ceiling images flashed across the screen panels. Images he found familiar. Wild images of Wyoming, Montana, the Yellowstone. Buffalo and wolves and mountain cats. Branding and hunting and tracking. Sounds erupted into the room–wolf calls, cat growls, moose calls. He shook his head from side to side. He didn't want to remember, but the images were so beautiful, filled with a clarity and sense of motion and depth bringing the images to life with a force of recognition he couldn't deny. He couldn't look away.
    "Feel the joy, not the pain," Will said from behind him. "These images are a part of you. Accept them, don't deny them. All your life you've been fighting your blood. Embrace them because you're a part of them just as they're a part of you. They're there in your music. Don't you think everyone feels it in that primitive rhythm you create? In the savage intensity of your lyrics?"
    Will's hands settled on his shoulders and he felt grounded as he watched and listened. He'd been afraid of accepting, of embracing his past. Until this moment. Grounded by Will, he wasn't afraid any more. Not anymore.
    He nodded his head. He couldn't take his eyes off the panels. Like a thirsty man gone without sustenance for so long he needed these images. They refilled him, changed him.
    The images and the sounds faded away, the panels flipped back around to black.
    "Do you understand?" Will asked.
    Sinn nodded. He understood and he accepted. He felt like a man who had survived a vicious storm and he felt depleted and yet revived. But how?
    Will removed the sodden silk. He held a bottle of water to Sinn's lips. Sinn drank deeply. He