Can You Stop Me?: The Outreach, #3

By Romilly King

I know what I want, I have always known exactly what I want - grace, beauty, silence, a demure and exquisitely trained submissive within the privacy of my own home.

I don't want rowdy, I don't want drama - I have enough of that in my work - I don't want somebody out of control, particularly not now when I am defending a close friend on a trumped up murder charge.
Clearly, we don't always get what we want because I cannot for the life of me fathom why I have taken on this chaotic, complicated, train wreck of a young man at this point, or indeed ever.
All I can think is it was those beautiful, liquid dark eyes staring at me through the bars of the drunk tank. He still smelled of liquor, he looked like he had slept in an alley, but those eyes, they said, "Stop me, before it's too late."
And the urbane, sophisticated, high protocol dominant inside me, to my everlasting surprise, replied, "As you wish."
Now we have a deal, this boy and I, he stays sober, he learns to kneel for me, and I will be the solid ground he can stand on while he gets his life back together.
I suppose I should tell him I don't tolerate failure either. Never mind, he'll find that out.

Can you stop me? Is Book 3 in The Outreach Series, it is an opposites attract gay romance with a straight laced dominant right out of Victorian drama and a brattish submissive who drinks to drown out his desires.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balloon Ride Books
• Release date: Dec 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215577899

Romilly King

Romilly write's character driven gay romances that focus on the dynamics of intense relationships.  Romilly's plots tend to dive deep into the more fascinating aspects of human behaviour - basically there will be a lot of kinky stuff!

Book preview

Prologue

Cash looked up from his desk when Brio waltzed into the room.  His colleague wore skin tight jeans and undone boots, an oversized t-shirt slipped coquettishly off one pale skinned shoulder, and his neck was ringed with livid bruises.  It might be early on a Friday morning but it looked as though Brio had already started the weekend.

Have you considered feeding your Dom real food instead of letting him snack on your neck? Cash asked.

It wasn’t just my neck, Brio smirked, My ass has a matching pattern. Wanna see?

I would rather gnaw my own leg off.

Brio pouted and settled gracefully into the chair across from Cash’s desk. What ya got for me, sensible adult?

Despite his perpetual attitude Brio looked tired.  Cash knew he was feeling the pressure since he had been subpoenaed as a prosecution witness in Christian’s upcoming murder trial.  Painter said he planned to take Brio away for a break once it was all over.

The sooner that happened the better. For everyone involved. The case had dragged on ridiculously.

I have something of a rarity for you to cast your eyes over, and something of an ethical problem. Cash opened a couple of files on his computer and cast them to the wall screen.

Oh, ethics, my favoritest thing.  You do know I have no ethics don’t you?

Say things like that very quietly, witness for the prosecution. Cash commented.

Pah, Brio shrugged, I’ll be fine in court, I’ll drag out the old money, bullet proof confidence attitude, and all will be well.

Cash really hoped so.

Brio turned his chair towards the wall screen and perused the data.  Cash let him take his time.

Well, colour me fucking fascinated, Brio said eventually, Someone likes what he likes. I’m assuming it’s a he.

Yes.

I wonder where he hides the bodies? Brio murmured, his gaze still firmly fixed on the lines of data and the slowly revolving representation of a human brain.

Not funny, Brio.

Well, it’s got that whole serial killer vibe.

Can you be serious for once.

"I don’t think I have ever seen such possessiveness.  That’s off the scale need to own."

Brio pushed himself up from the chair and walked over to the wall screen.  Cash joined him. 

Interesting range of kinks, Brio pointed out, Feminisation, bondage, objectification is very high, and that’s a significant streak of sadism, but the possessiveness, that’s got to be causing him problems if he isn’t in a very stable arrangement.

He doesn’t appear to be having problems, Cash commented.

Brio quirked an eyebrow at him. He says he hasn’t got problems, or you know he hasn’t got problems?

Cash didn’t answer, just chewed on his lower lip, his forehead creased.

In some ways this is as complicated as I am, Brio said.

But not as chaotic.

Thanks, buddy.

Sorry, but you know what I mean. Cash flashed Brio a smile. The really interesting thing is this guy didn’t even ping my radar.  I had no clue he was even gay let alone an outlier on the kink spectrum. I assumed, and I admit it was an assumption on my part, that he was asexual.

Brio scoffed, You’re losing your touch, Cash.  I would have spotted this a mile off.  It’s giving off vibes so intense it’s practically gothic vampire level of control.  This is a dominant of the highest order. I can smell them across state lines.

And yet you didn’t.

I know this person?

We all know this person.

Fuck. Brio looked horrified. He has to be getting his needs met.

He swears he isn’t. He swears he hasn’t scened for years.

"He’s lying, he has to be unstable without a playmate, and a seriously submissive, ‘yes Master, of course you can take my soul’, one."

Maybe he does something else to alleviate the pressure, Cash suggested.

Like what, scoffed Brio, Crochet? This guy must be a boiling pit of needs. He stepped closer to the screen. Or... His voice dropped out of his usual high drama tone as the scientist in him stepped up, He has turned the need to control inward.  He has wrapped it around himself. As a protective measure.

His eyes narrowed and Cash could see his brain running scenarios. I am never going to be the most stable guy in the room, he said seriously, But compared to this guy, I’m solid as a rock.  He must be on a knife edge.  If he cracks it’s going to be almost catastrophic.

That was my thought, said Cash. He pointed to a line of data. But I also noted that there is a strong altruistic line here, I think maybe he is tapping into that to keep the needs at bay, to stop his desires spiralling out of control.

Brio nodded, Yes, I see it, but that’s not going to hold forever without real world interactions.

Cash sighed, Can you run the new what if program Ash developed on this?

I can, Brio admitted, But it’s not perfect yet, it’s still in beta testing.  Do you feel the need to show this guy how bad it could get if he doesn’t do something about his desires?

I may need to.  I think he needs to acknowledge that he has to take the pressure off himself somehow.  He can’t just keep ignoring this.  Which brings us to my ethical dilemma.

Why? Has he got some job that could be impacted?  Looking at this I’m thinking maybe surgeon, they tend to be uber controlled.

Yes, if he snaps there could be serious fallout. Cash admitted, He’s  not a surgeon though. He’s our fucking lawyer, and he’s defending Christian in the murder case.

Brio looked at him in horror.

Marshall

It’s more like an airport than a courthouse.

So much shiny white marble.  So much glass.  So much truly uncomfortable sectional seating.  I detest this building.  It is trying so hard to be something it is not. 

I miss the days of oak panelling, quiet conversations in corners, and the atmosphere of difficult times diligently handled.  Going to court should not feel like a visit to a mall. 

Looking as cheerful as ever, Count. Gordon Wallace falls into step beside me, trying like he has for the last thirty years to match the length of my stride.

He knows I detest the nickname I have had since we were in school together, but I am accustomed to letting it wash over me.  It irks me no end that Gordon knows so much about me.  If I had my way nobody would know anything but my real name and my job.  Nothing else matters.  Everything else is my business alone.

The law is a serious business, Gordon, cheerful isn’t what the clients need.

He laughs, Stick firmly up your ass today I see.

I increase my speed and take a childish delight in how he has to hop to keep up.

Was there something you wanted to talk to me about, Gordon?

Just checking you got the trial date for the Bond case.

I don’t stop walking.  You know I have.

I’m really looking forward to it.

I stop so abruptly he continues on for a few paces. Really? my tone betrays my disgust.

Always fun to go up against you, you’re in the lead but I’m going to take you this time, Count, no jury is going to side with your man, no matter how pretty, or rich, he is.

The anger throbs inside me, it’s been getting worse lately and it should have no place in my work, but the older I get the more I want justice, not just the win.

It seems many of my esteemed colleagues are just the opposite.

Gordon Wallace was a crusading prosecutor fifteen years ago, now he’s not. I should mourn the loss to the profession but all I feel is anger that he has taken the life of an innocent man and is turning it into a circus for political gain.  Gordon has chosen his side, and it’s not the side of the angels.

Gordon is smiling his easy smile at me, the one juries swoon over, delighted to have riled me.  I take a deep breath, save it for the courtroom Marshall, everything outside the court is gamesmanship, give nothing away.

I force myself to relax.  Juries, I say, So unpredictable.

Not with this, he waggles his eyebrows at me in a ludicrous way.

Further down the corridor a slim woman in a well cut navy blue skirt suit is waving to attract our attention.  I think your assistant prosecutor needs you, I point out, keen to be rid of him.

Gordon turns towards the woman. So many bad guys, so little time!

I want to slam my briefcase into his smug face but instead I force a smile.

See you soon, Marshall. 

I have just been finger gunned by the District Attorney in the middle of the corridor. 

It really is a total joke to him. 

Christian Bond could go to jail for thirty years and Gordon Wallace would count it a triumph.  Yet Christian Bond is an innocent man. 

The law is an ass.

Frequently.

My job is to stop that happening, as often as I can.

Right now I am here to file paperwork to get the judge currently assigned to Christian’s case recused.  The man is a conservative diehard and we don’t want him on Christian’s case. 

I wish I was being allowed to go for a dismissal of the case, I might have been able to swing that to spare a trial, but Christian, in private, away from his overprotective husband, has instructed me not to seek that. 

He has been charged, he wants to be cleared.

I absolutely understand that, but equally I know facing a jury with Christian’s lifestyle makes what should have been an easy case exponentially harder.  At this point aiming for a more sympathetic judge is essential.

It should never even have come to this.

Christian Bond shot a man in clear defence of another.  If he hadn’t acted when he did at least one, and likely at least two other people would be dead.  One man had already been injured when Christian shot Brother Jeremiah, and a young man was in the process of sacrificing himself for his brother.  Christian acted morally and with the right of law behind him.

Unfortunately, the house he was in was not his own.  He had not been invited in by the property owner at the time he entered the building.  Also, he is a trained soldier and security expert, Brother Jeremiah was an older man with no known firearms experience.

That alone would not be enough to turn this into a case for 2nd degree murder given that four people saw Brother Jeremiah aim his gun at an innocent young man and assert he would kill him, but Christian Bond and Brother Jeremiah are on opposite sides of a very public and contentious lifestyle divide.  A divide that is compounded by Christian’s clear links into the organisation that was having ongoing legal difficulties with Brother Jeremiah and his cabal.

That is what the prosecution are going with.  They will assert that Christian Bond fully intended to kill Brother Jeremiah when he entered the building.  And that is 2nd degree murder.

This trial will not be about individuals.  It will be about lifestyles, and it’s going to be messy. 

I dislike messy and I whilst my sympathies very firmly lie with Christian and his people I have a feeling my own bent in this matter may well become public knowledge as a result, and that is a very unpleasant thought indeed.

I glance at my old fashioned wrist watch. Just a few seconds in Gordon’s company has left me tense and miserable.  I have some time before I need to file paperwork. 

I need to centre myself. 

Making a quick decision I step inside the arraignment court, just to give myself a moment to compose myself.  You wouldn’t think the apparent chaos of arraignment proceedings would calm me but it does. There is a system here, a hive mentality, everybody going about their role as efficiently as possible, get them in, get them out.  It reminds me of my early days as my Father’s junior partner when he would send me to arraignment court to get experience, to get into the mindset of problem solving. 

Despite the abundance of glass, the blonde wood panelling and the