Collars & Cuffs Vol. 2 E-Book

K.C. Wells

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 1975

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

The Collars & Cuffs club has room for all types of men to find healing and love. In Damian's Discipline, Dom Damian Barnett welcomes damaged Jeff into his home after Leo and Thomas save him from the streets. Jeff may not be a submissive, but Damian may be able to offer him the structure he needs to rebuild his life. In Make Me Soar, self-proclaimed "pain slut" Dorian Forrester is chasing the ultimate high into dangerous places. When he goes missing, Alan Marchant is determined to show Dorian that there are better way to fly.  In Dom of Ages, Eli has found his perfect submissive in Jarod, but their age gap has Jarod waiting for the other shoe to drop. A visit to Collars & Cuffs gives the struggling couple hope that their relationship just might stand a chance. And in Endings and Beginnings, barman JJ Taylor didn't expect to find himself drawn to wannabe Dom Darren Fielding, but as the members of Collars & Cuffs face an event that will make them stronger or break them, JJ finds his life going in a direction he could have never guessed.

Leseprobe

Collars & Cuffs Vol. 2

By K.C. Wells and Parker Williams

The Collars & Cuffs club has room for all types of men to find healing and love. In Damian’s Discipline, Dom Damian Barnett welcomes damaged Jeff into his home after Leo and Thomas save him from the streets. Jeff may not be a submissive, but Damian may be able to offer him the structure he needs to rebuild his life. In Make Me Soar, self-proclaimed “pain slut” Dorian Forrester is chasing the ultimate high into dangerous places. When he goes missing, Alan Marchant is determined to show Dorian that there are better way to fly.

In Dom of Ages, Eli has found his perfect submissive in Jarod, but their age gap has Jarod waiting for the other shoe to drop. A visit to Collars & Cuffs gives the struggling couple hope that their relationship just might stand a chance. And in Endings and Beginnings, barman JJ Taylor didn’t expect to find himself drawn to wannabe Dom Darren Fielding, but as the members of Collars & Cuffs face an event that will make them stronger or break them, JJ finds his life going in a direction he could have never guessed.

Table of Contents

Blurb

Collars & Cuffs Vol. 2 by K.C. Wells and Parker Williams includes

Damian’s Discipline

Make Me Soar

Dom of Ages

Endings and Beginnings

About the Authors

Visit Dreamspinner Press

Copyright

Collars & Cuffs Vol. 2 by K.C. Wells and Parker Williams includes:

Collars and Cuffs: Book Five

The man who pimped Jeff may be in prison, but Jeff is still living the nightmare, selling himself to men and relying on pills to manage. Then he meets Scott, a young American man who could easily have been where Jeff is now. Scott’s friends extend a helping hand to Jeff, and he grabs it.

Leo and Thomas bring Jeff to stay with Dom Damian Barnett until they can find him someplace more long-term. Still grieving from losing his sub to cancer two years before, Damian agrees to help. But when he glimpses the extent of the damage, Damian wants to do more than offer his guestroom. Jeff is not a submissive, but Damian can see he desperately needs structure in his life. It’s up to Damian to find an answer.

He never expects that what he discovers will change both their lives.

Collars and Cuffs: Book Six

Anyone who frequents Collars & Cuffs knows Dorian Forrester is built for pain, including Dorian himself. But everyone has it wrong. For six years, Dorian’s chased a feeling that remains tantalizingly out of his reach. Unteachable, Dorian can take anything and everything a Dom can throw at him. Still, it’s not enough. Dorian needs… something more. Something he won’t find at Collars & Cuffs.

Dorian’s search takes him out of the safe environment he’s known for years, out of his depth, and into a realm of deep, dark trouble.

Alan Marchant has been watching Dorian with interest for a while and knows there’s more to Dorian than his label of “pain slut” suggests. When Dorian disappears, Alan and his friend Leo set out to find him. But the disoriented young man discovered cowering in a hotel room is not the Dorian they know and love. That Dorian is shattered. It’s up to Alan to pick up the pieces and show Dorian there are better ways to fly.

They may be off on a new journey together, but their destination will rock them both to the core.

Collars and Cuffs: Book Seven

Eli may only be thirty, but he has had enough of pretend submissives. When he spies Jarod in a BDSM club, everything about the man screams submission. So what if Jarod is probably twenty years older than Eli. What does age matter, anyway? All he can see is what he’s always wanted—a sub who wants to serve.

Jarod spent twenty-four years with his Master before Fate took him. Four years on, Jarod is still lost, so when a young Dom takes charge, Jarod rolls with it and finds himself serving again. But he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because there’s going to come a point when Eli realizes he’s a laughingstock in the club. Who would want to be seen with a fifty-year-old sub?

After several missteps, Eli realizes that in order to find happiness, they will need friends who will understand. At a friend’s insistence, he visits Collars & Cuffs, where they are met with open arms. As they settle in to their new life, Eli begins to see things differently and he dares to think he can have it all. Until a phone call threatens to take it all away….

Collars and Cuffs: Book Eight

In all his relationships, Darren Fielding never found the level of intimacy he witnessed between Thomas Williams and his sub, Peter, the day of Peter’s “rebirth.” Not only that, he never realized such intimacy was possible. For two years, Thomas’s business card has been burning a hole in his wallet. When Darren’s lover moves on, maybe it’s finally time to see where that card takes him.

Collars & Cuffs’ new barman, JJ Taylor, is really conflicted right now. He went to the club with a very specific purpose, already convinced of what he’d find there. Except it’s not what he expected at all. He certainly didn’t anticipate finding himself drawn to the new wannabe Dom. Nor could he have guessed the direction that attraction would lead him.

Old love, new love, vows, pain, rage, moving in, moving on…. The members of Collars & Cuffs face an event that touches some of them deeply, but it will only reinforce what they already know: together they are stronger, and some bonds cannot be broken.

This book is dedicated to all those readers who insisted on knowing what happened to Jeff from Someone to Keep Me.

Acknowledgments

K.C. AND Parker would like to thank their betas Lara, Tina, and Mardee for their invaluable help.

Prologue

Jeff

THE DAY began like any other day. Everything was as it always had been, the usual struggle to keep enough money in my pocket to be able to buy condoms and pills—no way was I doing anything without either of them. It was the same vicious circle, the one from which I couldn’t ever contemplate escaping. Yep, the day showed no sign of deviating from its inevitable conclusion, right up until the moment when an American voice called out my name and everything changed.

I’d been sitting outside the creative arts college that was part of Manchester Metropolitan University, watching some kids performing poetry to classical music. When they finished, I got up to walk to Eric’s place. He’d be home by now, and I didn’t want to run short of pills. I shuddered at the thought.

“Jeff! Please, wait up!”

The voice behind me was clearly American. I turned to see this kid running toward me. I’d never seen him before in my life. He was small and looked pretty young, maybe fifteen, sixteen, with red hair and really blue eyes. I tensed, looking around swiftly to see if there was anyone else with him, but he seemed to be on his own.

“Look, I think you’ve got the wrong person,” I said as he caught up to me. “I don’t know you.”

His face fell. “But… you are Jeff, aren’t you?”

I gave a brief nod. “But I’ve no idea how you could know that.” I frowned. This wasn’t good.

“But I’m Scott,” he said, as if that explained everything.

I shrugged. “Look, I’m sorry, but like I said, I don’t know you.”

This stubborn expression crossed his face, and I knew he wasn’t about to give up easily.

“You sent me your picture. You sent me a first-class plane ticket to bring me from the States to be with you.” Then this expression came into his eyes, like he was hurting or something. “You told me you loved me, that you’d take care of me. And then when I arrived, you weren’t there.”

Oh fuck. My heart sank. Will I ever be free of that man’s grasp? Even in prison, that bastard is still fucking up my life.

I took a deep breath. This kid had no idea, and I was about to drop a bombshell. I sized him up quickly. My instincts told me Scott wasn’t a threat.

“Listen, we need to talk. Let’s go somewhere warmer, and I’ll tell you what I know.” I hesitated for a second or two. “There’s an inexpensive little café by Oxford Road rail station, but I don’t have any cash on me.” Okay, so it was a lie, but I needed my money for Eric.

He nodded eagerly. “That’s okay, I’ve got money. Where is this place?”

I led him along the street to the Copper Pot Café. I’d been there loads of times. It was cheap but clean. We went inside and grabbed an empty table.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked.

“A Coke will be fine.” When he got up to go to the counter, I grabbed his arm. “Make sure they give you the can and a glass. I’d like to pour it myself, if that’s okay.”

He shrugged, but I could see he was puzzled. I wasn’t about to explain my little foible to him now. The conversation we were about to have would be difficult enough.

Scott came back with the unopened can and a mug of what looked like green tea. I heaved a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about. He sat opposite me and folded his arms, waiting expectantly.

Oh God… where do I start?

I took a breath to steady my nerves. “Okay, I take it you’ve been talking to someone online who called himself Jeff?” Scott nodded, his eyes fixed on me. “Well, it wasn’t me.”

“Then who was it?” he demanded.

I sighed. “You’re not going to like this. Someone used my picture to lure you over here.”

His eyes grew large and round. “But… who would do such a thing?”

I gaped. He really didn’t have a clue. I tugged at the ring pull and took a long mouthful of Coke before answering. It was cold and refreshing, and it had been a while since I’d had one. Then I looked Scott in the eye.

“The men who chatted with you online, who sent you the picture and the plane ticket…. They were going to get you over here to be a part of their prostitution ring. And maybe, if you were really unlucky, one of their drug mules too.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open, but no sounds came out. He simply regarded me for the longest time. Finally he leaned forward. “How do you know this?” he whispered.

Fuck, now for the hard part. I laced my fingers together and stared at my hands. It was easier than looking at his face.

“I got caught up with a guy called Curtis Rogers. I’m not about to tell you all the things that bastard had me doing. It’s enough for you to know I wasn’t as lucky as you.”

Scott reached across the table and wrapped his hand around mine, squeezing it tight. I closed my eyes at the unexpected contact. This was a nice kid.

“Tell me,” he said gently.

I felt compelled to raise my head and meet his gaze. Those blue eyes held no disgust, no condemnation, only compassion.

“Okay,” I whispered. I talked for the next fifteen minutes or so, and all that time, he sat quietly, still holding my hand. When I was done, I felt worn out, and Scott had paled.

“Jeff, I need you to do something for me,” he said urgently. “I need you to come with me and talk to Sir. You need to tell him everything you just told me.”

“Who the fuck is sir?” I flung at him, heart pounding. No way could I go through that again.

“His name is Ben, and he’s my Dom.” Scott’s expression was earnest.

Oh, hell, no. I’d been around enough to know a little about BDSM. Curtis had been into all that shit, as had some of the guys he’d…. I shivered. Not going to go there.

“I… I can’t,” I said, pulling my hand free of his.

“Please, Jeff.” Scott’s eyes were pleading. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Besides, I think he and his bosses can help you.” Scott then proceeded to tell me his own story about how he’d been chatting with someone who said they were me, how they told him all kind of lies about how they loved him and wanted him to come here. When he arrived, there was no one to meet him. He was found by a guy named Ben, who took him in and who he had fallen in love with. Ben had introduced him to BDSM, and Scott found he enjoyed the feeling of being wanted. Still, our situations were vastly different.

I listened to all he had to say in astonishment. But that still left a question unanswered. “Help me? How, for God’s sake?” I didn’t need help. I coped fine on my own as long as I had those little pills. But Scott wasn’t about to give up. He begged me, and I saw he genuinely believed Ben and his friends—Leo and Thomas, I think their names were—could help me. And the funny thing was, the more he talked about them, how they’d helped him, the more a tiny part of my brain started to consider it. He didn’t let up, and finally I held up my hand, my head in a whirl.

“Okay,” I said at last.

He stopped, a hopeful expression in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said wearily. I didn’t have the energy to resist anymore. “Let’s go talk to your Sir.”

It couldn’t hurt, could it?

WHICH WAS how I came to be sitting next to Scott in the back of Ben’s car, following his friends Leo and Thomas in their car, to go see some guy, Damian, who’d be giving me a place to stay. I was nervous, but hell, at this point, anywhere would be better than where I’d been staying. And the way Scott was acting toward me helped me relax. I doubt he’d moved more than a few feet from me, and touched me when he was close enough. I hated to admit it, but I missed being touched like that.

It was still all such a blur. I’d been scared of Ben at first, especially when I told him about Curtis. I was convinced he was about to hurt me. In fact, I’d been so scared, I almost pissed myself. Scott had held me, trying to calm me. Then everything changed when Ben had gotten out his phone and called this Leo, asking him to help me. I’d asked Scott if I could use their bathroom, and once in there, I quickly swallowed a pill. It was all too much.

Help… me? These guys didn’t even know me, and yet they wanted to help? I wasn’t buying it. I wasn’t born yesterday. But by the time Leo and Thomas turned up, I was utterly exhausted. The sight of Leo was intimidating on its own—the man had to be at least six two—but Thomas was an older guy who had a way of talking to you as if he expected you to do exactly as he said. I was too numb from the pill to argue.

“Tell me again,” I whispered wearily to Scott. “Who’s this Damian you’re taking me to?”

“I’ve never met him,” Scott confessed, “but I know he’s a gentle man, and he’ll take care of you.”

I had a feeling I knew what Damian’s brand of care might entail, but I said nothing. Scott seemed so innocent at times. Then I thought on it. He can’t be that innocent if he has a Dom. But to be honest, I was that tired, all my thoughts were starting to run into each other.

“We’re here,” Ben said as he pulled over in front of a Victorian house on a quiet street. Leo and Thomas were already out of their car and waiting by the gate.

Scott squeezed my hand. “It’ll be all right,” he assured me.

Between the pill I had taken, my utter exhaustion, and the earnestness Scott had shown, I found myself daring to hope that maybe, for once, I could let my guard down a little. I was certain that tomorrow I would see things more clearly, but for now, I just needed to rest.

I looked through the car window to the open front door. I could just about make out the tall figure standing in the doorway, the light from behind him making it difficult to see. This had to be Damian.

What am I letting myself in for?

One

Damian

I LOVED it when it was evening and all was quiet and peaceful. No traffic noise intruded into the house, and in the lounge, the only sound was the slow ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. Give me a mechanical clock any day. Not that I had anything against more modern timepieces, but there was something soothing about the sound. The clock had been my grandmother’s, and I took loving care of it, making sure it was oiled and wound. Right then my evening was perfect: the tick of the clock, a glass of Cabernet on the table next to me, and a worn, hardcover Sherlock Holmes novel in my hands. I’d lost count of how many times I’d read The Hound of the Baskervilles, but rereading a favorite book was a warm, comforting experience. The wine created a warm glow inside me. I took another sip.

And then my phone rang.

The temptation to ignore its clamoring call was huge. I was happy, comfortable, and anyone ringing me at home during the evening had to want something. All my friends knew my routines, especially since Oliver….

I closed my eyes. I could almost hear that edge of amusement in his voice. “You going to answer that, Sir?” And yes, I could see the gleam in his eye as he awaited my reaction, tense in nervous anticipation. Brat loved pushing my buttons. With a sigh, I picked up the call.

“Damian? It’s Leo. We need your help.”

I placed the wine on the table. “What can I do for you?” My interest was piqued immediately. It had been quite a while since the co-owner of my BDSM club had called me at home.

“Sorry to disturb you, but you were the first person I could think of. We have a boy. He’s nineteen, and he needs help.”

“Go on.” I listened intently as Leo told me about Jeff, a young man who had been forced into prostitution by Curtis Rogers. That damned name would haunt us forever, it seemed. Nearly every member of the club knew of him by now. And we all knew about Thomas’s boy, Peter. Leo’s business partner had finally found a submissive that was perfect for him. I couldn’t wait to meet him.

“I know it’s late, but we hoped you might be willing to let the boy stay with you for a time.”

I stroked my chin. It had been a couple of years since I’d been responsible for anyone. Not since…. I swallowed hard. “For how long, Leo?”

“A couple of weeks should be plenty,” he replied.

I thought about it. After I lost Oliver, I’d nearly given up being a Dominant, and my times at the club had become less frequent. And when I did go, there were no scenes or penetrative sex with the subs, just cuddling. I needed to feel close to someone, even if only for a brief time. My visits had become so infrequent I’d even debated giving up my membership. But something inside me wouldn’t let go, maybe in the hope that things would change. It was painful, however, to see the growing number of guys who were now in relationships. It seemed everywhere I looked, there were men in love. And that hurt.

“Damian? Are you there?”

I shook the cobwebs from my mind. “Yes, sorry. I think I could find room for the lad. Bring him around.” I ignored my pounding heart as I said good-bye and hung up. I didn’t expect my guest immediately, but I got the spare room ready as fast as possible. Clean bedding, towels, toiletries…. It would be strange to have another person in the house again.

Less than two hours later, the doorbell rang. I wasn’t prepared to find six men on my doorstep, only four of them known to me. Leo and Thomas greeted me warmly, and I recognized Alex, Leo’s sub and lover. Ben, Collars & Cuffs’ barman, stood behind them with another young man, and then I was introduced to Jeff. My first impression was that he seemed a haunted boy. His soft brown eyes darted constantly, scanning the room, the contents, and the people. I invited them in and showed them to the lounge, offering them a seat. Jeff glanced at the high-back leather chair and then around the room. The young man with Ben turned out to be his submissive, Scott, who tugged Jeff to sit down and then perched on the arm of the chair. Jeff sat on the edge of its deep cushion, seemingly fearful of everyone but Scott, who had placed an arm protectively around Jeff.

“Can I get you some tea, Jeff?”

“I don’t… no, I can’t,” Jeff replied. Interesting response. I asked the others, but they, too, begged off.

I took my chair and sat observing Jeff. I was surprised by how similar, yet different, he was from my Oliver. I sighed. Oliver had sat in the chair Jeff now occupied. I couldn’t help but be drawn to the youth’s plight. Already I was mulling over in my mind what, if anything, I could do to help him.

My guests didn’t stay long, but during their brief visit, Jeff didn’t utter a word. As Leo, Thomas, Alex, and Ben got up to leave, Scott led Jeff to the fireplace and proceeded to talk quietly to him. Jeff listened, shaking his head now and again. I gave them some privacy and followed the others to the front door. Moments later Scott joined us. I bade them farewell and returned to the lounge to find Jeff back in the chair. He was wary, muscles wound tightly, clearly ready to spring at the slightest provocation.

“How about I show you your room?”

Jeff nodded and rose to his feet, muscles still tense. I gestured for him to follow me and led the way upstairs to the spare room on the other side of the bathroom.

I indicated the en suite with a brief flick of my hand. “There’s a toilet and washbasin in there.”

He gazed quickly around, no emotion showing on his face. Such a closed-off expression.

“Do you need anything before you go to sleep?” I wanted to hear the voice that went with that haunted, handsome face.

Jeff shook his head and mumbled, “No, thank you.”He watched me uneasily.

With resignation, I walked over to the bedroom door, Jeff following me. No sooner had I crossed the threshold than he closed the door, and I heard the lock click into place. I stared at the painted wooden door for a moment and then went downstairs, curled up in my wide armchair, and picked up my glass of wine to take another long sip. I grabbed my book but could not get back into the story, so I closed it with a heavy sigh and returned it to the shelf. My thoughts returned to my young charge. I climbed the stair as silently as I could and stood at the door, listening to his murmured cries. The need to knock on the door welled up inside me, but the thought of scaring the boy more than he already was gave me pause. I returned to the lounge, drained my wine, placed the glass in the dishwasher, and went to my room.

I pulled back the duvet and sat down on the edge of the mattress. My thoughts were of Oliver. Jeff now occupied his room, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Oliver would approve. I reached toward the bedside table and pulled the picture of the two of us to my chest. Night was always the worst time, when I missed his warmth beside me or in my arms. I kissed the picture as I did every night and placed it back in its spot. I climbed into bed, turned off the light, and rolled over to try and sleep.

Tomorrow I’ll work on getting Jeff to trust me. He’d probably been hurt many times and needed someone stable in his life. I hoped I was up to the challenge.

Jeff

I LAY in the bed with one eye on the door. I kept thinking that at some point the man, Damian, would enter. Maybe I should leave the key in the lock. At least I’d hear it fall if he tries to get in. But I was so bone-weary and in urgent need of sleep I couldn’t summon the energy to get out of bed. And yet sleep wouldn’t come. I stared at the door. Finally I sighed, reached into my pocket, and pulled out the second to last of the pills. Okay, so I didn’t need them often, but it had been a stressful day. Prior to today, the last time I had taken one had been a couple of days ago, but when Scott approached me at the university earlier, everything had come rushing back to me.

I swallowed the pill, wincing at the bitter taste. Then I lay back and relaxed. If Damian came to collect, I’d be ready. He would have what he wanted, and in the morning I could go.

It wasn’t long before the darkness swallowed me.

I WOKE to the sound of birds, and panic set in at the unfamiliar surroundings. I didn’t go home with anyone last night, did I? I lurched up, my eyes not yet adjusted to the dimness. A clock on the bedside table claimed it was nearly five in the morning. I clutched the corner of the duvet, trying to think. Slowly it came back to me. Scott had found me and taken me to see his Sir. I’d been around enough to know something of the lifestyle and what the men who followed it expected. Damian hadn’t made much of a first impression, but to be fair, I’d been incredibly nervous, and with the pill, I wouldn’t have noticed him unless he’d had two heads or something.

I sighed, threw back the rest of the chocolate-brown cover, and got to my feet. I was a realist. Men only helped for one reason, and I had learned early on they always expected payment.

The one thing I wasn’t sure of was what form of payment this man would claim. If he hasn’t already, that is…. Did he come in here last night when I was asleep? I hadn’t checked the door. I stripped off my clothes, touched my crack, and found no evidence Damian had visited me last night. I heaved a sigh of relief.

I stepped into the en suite bathroom and used the washbasin to clean myself up as well as I could. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror and shuddered as thoughts raced through my brain. What’s become of me? Have I really fallen this low? Oh God, please let this one wear a condom.

There was no putting it off any longer. I unlocked the door, and the bitter aroma of coffee assailed my nose. I crept downstairs, following the scent. I paused at the kitchen door and took a deep breath before walking in, nude, ready to repay Damian for his hospitality. There was no one there. The coffee machine sat on the kitchen worktop, half full. My mouth watered. I hadn’t had coffee in such a long time.

“Help yourself, young man. There’s milk in the refrigerator and sugar in the cabinet above the coffeemaker.”

I jumped, startled, and spun to find Damian standing behind me, a bemused expression on his face. I shrank back. Why is he offering coffee? That was another lesson I’d learned early on—don’t take food or drink from anyone. After Curtis Rogers had drugged and blackmailed me into turning tricks for him and his “friends,” I couldn’t trust anyone but myself. I would never be that weak again.

I looked him in the eye. “I… I wanted to show my appreciation to you for allowing me to stay the night.” I swallowed. “How would you like me? As soon as I settle up, I will be out of your way.” I tried not to tremble as I awaited his decision.

Damian regarded me with something akin to amusement. “My dear young man, I think you misunderstood. You won’t be leaving.”

Fear clogged my throat. Oh, fuck. What had Scott done? Had he sold me to this man? I’d thought Scott was different, but… I caught sight of a cutting block on the counter, stocked with cutlery. I snatched a long-bladed knife and held it in front of me, hand shaking.

I expected Damian to run from the room, or at least cry out. I didn’t expect what he said, though.

“Be a good lad and grab me a mug, too. I take mine black and sweet.” He sat down at the kitchen table, ignoring the fact I still had a weapon.

Is he toying with me? “Please.” I winced, hearing my voice crack. “Please let me go.”

Damian’s face went flat. “Let you go? Dear boy, you’re not a prisoner. We want to help you. If you will let us.”

God, how many times had I heard that before? No one does anything without expecting something in return. The moment spun out, me standing there armed, Damian not even looking slightly perturbed. Okay…. Plan B. I kept an eye on him while I pulled a mug down from the cabinet. I dipped the spoon into the sugar caddy and put two heaping servings into his cup, which I then filled with steaming coffee. I placed it on the table and slid it toward him. His eyes twinkled when he looked at me.

“Seldom do I have this kind of service. My waiters are usually clothed. Not that I mind the extra attention.” He gave a chuckle and sipped his coffee.

Huh? I looked down at myself, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m very sorry,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry on my account, boy.”

I beat a hasty retreat up the stairs to the room where I’d left my clothes. At the threshold, I took a whiff of myself and cringed. Even I didn’t want to be around me, I needed a shower that badly. I glanced wistfully through the bathroom door, wishing I could soak in the tub, but it was best if I got out while I could. I entered the bedroom and closed the door. Now what do I do?

Damian knocked, making me jump. “There are clothes in the chest of drawers,” he said through the door. “They should be about your size. If they’re not, we can see about getting you some later.” His footsteps moved away from the door.

I pulled open the top drawer and found jeans and T-shirts. They’d be a bit big on me, but were a definite improvement over the disgusting mess I’d brought with me. Still, they weren’t my clothes, and to wear them meant I’d owe Damian something else. At some point he’d collect. I folded the clothes and carefully put them back into the drawer before shutting it. My old clothes would have to do.

I slid into my ratty jeans, holes worn in them until they were threadbare. My shirt had seen better days. The sweat and grime had turned the cotton shirt a dingy gray color.

Damian knocked again. When I opened the door, his eyes widened slightly in surprise at sight of my clothes. I stood very still, hand still resting on the handle.

Damian sighed. “Look, I have a fair idea why you won’t eat or drink. Added to that, I seem to make you nervous. So I have a suggestion. I need to go out for a while. You’ll have some time on your own. While I’m gone you can help yourself to anything. You’re welcome to take a bath, if you like.” He pointed toward the bathroom. “There are towels in there, and that door locks from the inside. You might even find some bubble bath under the sink.” He smiled.

I couldn’t help snickering. Bubble bath?

“It’s not mine,” Damian said defensively. “It belonged to… someone else.”

And just like that, the happy look was gone and replaced by a forlorn expression. Whoever it was had obviously meant a lot to the man. Had they left him?

Then something occurred to me. “Can I leave?”

Damian tilted his head. “Where would you go?”

I pinched my lips together. “It doesn’t matter. Can I go?”

Damian studied me for a moment in silence. “No one has expectations of you. We just want to make sure you’re safe.” He shrugged. “If you think you can handle it on your own, go ahead. Leo and Thomas are trying to find someone to take you in.” He gazed at me intently, sending a shiver down my spine. “They can’t force you if you don’t want their help. Until then, you’re welcome to stay here.”

Damian gave me a brief but warm smile and then headed downstairs. Moments later, I heard the front door open and close.

I peered inside the bathroom at the deep tub, the thick towels already warming on the rail.

Fuck it. I could leave after a bath.

Two

Jeff

I LAY back in the hot, foaming water, my head resting on a thickly folded towel.

Oh my God, this is heaven.

I closed my eyes and let the warmth seep into me. It was the first chance I’d had in a long while to feel… human. Part of me wondered if Damian had really had to go out, or whether he’d done it to afford me this opportunity. I pulled into my mind a mental image of the man who’d taken me in. He was maybe five eleven, and as for his age, he didn’t seem that old, maybe in his late twenties. Damian was wide across the chest but narrow at the hips. His arms were well defined. He kept his head virtually shaved. Damian had been wearing a tight T-shirt, and I’d spotted tattoos poking out from under the sleeves and a visible ring through his left nipple. Those blue-gray eyes were definitely interesting. What was most interesting, however, was his size. For a man that big, Damian should have been a bruising tough guy, but he seemed anything but. In fact, with his reaction to me brandishing a knife in his kitchen, he’d left me with an impression of quiet strength.

I knew the man was a Dom. Yet all the guys who had played Dom for the night with me had never made me feel comfortable. Damian had opened his home to me. Told me I was safe. And for whatever insane reason, I believed him—to a point.

I kept my eyes closed, inhaling the relaxing aroma of lavender.

Would it be so bad to stay for a while? If I get to do this?

I opened my eyes and sighed.

Okay, Damian seems like a nice guy.So… what’s the catch?

Because there had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

Damian

I PULLED my jacket around me. The morning breeze was chilly. I could have been at home right now, drinking hot coffee and feeling a damn sight warmer.

So why are you walking the streets of city center Manchester?

That was easy. My houseguest was as skittish as a colt.

I thought about paying Scott a visit. He might have more information about Jeff that would help. Then I decided against it. Better if I discovered what made the young man tick on my own, rather than prejudice myself with prior knowledge.

I turned off London Road and walked toward Canal Street. Pretty soon I spotted the young men standing there. I knew some of them were rent boys who worked the area around Chorlton Street bus station. God, they’re so thin. They weren’t exactly the picture of health either.

And suddenly the thought was in my head: that could be Jeff.

I pictured the young man in my mind, the curly brown hair, attractive hazel eyes. He was very thin, painfully so. How often does he get to eat? And what has he been eating? His refusal to eat was worrying. Then I realized that despite my desire not to be influenced by what others told me of Jeff, these were things I needed to know.

I stopped in the middle of the pavement and smiled to myself. I didn’t know how he’d gotten under my skin so fast. Perhaps it was the haunted expression he’d worn the previous night, or the fact that he’d assumed I would want something in return, but I was already starting to think about helping him.

And I didn’t want to leave him on his own for too long, so I turned to home.

As I walked, I got my phone out.

“Leo? Hi, Damian here. Listen, do you have a number for Scott? I need some information.”

Jeff

IT FELT wrong, putting on my disgusting clothes after my bath, but I still didn’t like the thought of being beholden to Damian.

At least I’m clean, right?

That bath had felt wonderful. I was relaxed and warm, something I hadn’t felt for a long time. I couldn’t even remember the last time. My stomach growled.

Well, Damian did say I could help myself to anything.

I went downstairs into the kitchen. There was a fresh loaf of bread standing on a thick wooden breadboard. It smelled fantastic. In the cabinet, I found boxes of cereal. Only one problem—I couldn’t be sure the food hadn’t been tampered with. Yeah, I knew I was paranoid, but I’d learned the hard way. So I left the mouthwatering bread and took a look around the house. There were photos everywhere, in frames, on the wall, and standing on tables. They showed Damian and a younger man with blond hair, blue eyes, and a really sweet smile. They looked so happy.

Maybe this was the owner of the bubble bath.

The front door opened, and Damian stepped into the hallway. He closed it behind him and looked me up and down, a sympathetic expression on his face.

“Look, you can’t wear those clothes. They look like they’re about to fall apart, except that maybe it’s only the dirt that’s holding them together. Why don’t you give them to me to be washed and help yourself to the clothes in the drawers? No one else will be wearing them. It’s really not a problem.”

I stared at him for a moment, unsure as to whether I should say anything. Finally I had to ask.

“Why are you doing this? What are you getting out of it?”

Damian seemed genuinely puzzled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I huffed. “I know how it works. You don’t get something for nothing, not in my game.” I let out a patient sigh. “I get that you’re telling me you want to help, but I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.” I folded my arms across my chest. “So let’s get it over with, all right? Level with me. What do you expect as payment?”

There was a stunned silence. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t want sex from you. If I wanted that, I could go to a club and pick someone up.” His expression softened. “I understand it’s not easy for you to trust me. I understand that, and I’m sorry. I wish I could say something that would make the pain go away. Anything that would make you believe we want to help you.” I could see the sadness in his eyes. “I can’t, and I know it. You’re the one who has to make the choice.” He stood to one side and gestured toward the front door. “If you want to walk out, go ahead. I give you my word I won’t stop you.” Then his expression grew solemn. “Just know if you do, you’re going to be stuck in this game forever. You’ll never get out, and you’ll die out there.”

My stomach clenched, and my legs shook. It was clear Damian meant every word he’d uttered. And I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in reply.

Damian watched me for a second or two. He cocked his head to one side. “Did you eat anything while I was out?” I shook my head. Damian’s cheeks were suddenly tinged with pink. “I spoke with Scott. He told me what happened, how Curtis drugged your food, so I know why you’re reluctant to eat or drink.”

I stared at him. “Oh.” The word was a whisper.

Damian nodded, his eyes kind. “So here’s another suggestion. Until you trust me, I’ll give you money so you can go buy food. You don’t have to eat anything in my house. I’ll even leave the house when you take a bath.”

Wow. My heart gave a jolt. The thought that he would go to those lengths to prove to me he was safe made me feel warm inside. “You don’t have to do all that,” I said quickly. Just then my stomach gave another growl.

Damian quirked an eyebrow. “There are beans in the cupboard, there’s cheese in the fridge. Why don’t I do us some beans on toast? Or if it makes you feel better, you can do it.” He smiled. “I’ll eat it too.”

This time I returned his smile. “Okay. And I’ll do it.”

Damian sat down at the table and began to tell me where everything was. I opened a cabinet and peered inside. There were varieties of baked beans to choose from: chili beans, some with sausage, barbecue, and a few more exotic types.

“Use whatever you want.”

I was surprised he was giving me free rein, but I shrugged and started preparing the food. I went into the fridge and pulled out the cheese. I sniffed it appreciatively. When was the last time I had cheese?

“Cut yourself a piece,” Damian said. “I’ll have one, too.”

I cut off two pieces, handed him one, and then bit into mine slowly, savoring the taste and texture. It was wonderful.

“Do you like cooking?”

I rolled my shoulders as I opened the beans, then poured the contents into a saucepan. “I haven’t really had the chance to find out if I like it or not. You don’t tend to find equipped kitchens in the places I’ve been staying.” I turned on the gas under the pan and then sliced off two thick pieces of the bread. I loaded them into the toaster.

Damian leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What about when you stayed the night with someone?”

I stared at the toaster as I replied. “Usually they wanted me out first thing.”

Damian made a small, unhappy noise.

The toast popped up, and I fetched butter from the fridge to spread over it. A smell reached my nostrils. Oh fuck, the beans. They’d started to burn, already sticking to the base of the pan. “Bloody hell!” I grabbed hold of the wooden spoon and scraped it over the base, loosening the beans. “I’m sorry. I’m really messing this up.”

Damian waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, they’ll be edible.” He winked at me. “We’ll just put on more cheese.”

I helped the beans onto the toast and then grated plenty of cheese over them. We ate at the table. I tasted the beans and groused under my breath. All I’d had to do was make lousy beans on toast, and I couldn’t even do that. Damian didn’t say a word in complaint. He ate every mouthful, even going so far as to push the last piece of toast around the plate with his fork, mopping up the last drop of tomato sauce. He pushed away the almost pristine plate and smiled at me.

“See? I said it would be edible.” He gestured toward the fruit bowl in the center of the table. It contained apples, oranges, bananas, and grapes. “Pass me a banana, please.” I picked one and handed it over. “Thanks. If you want some fruit, help yourself. And we could do with some more coffee. Want to do that?”

I snorted. “You actually trust me with coffee?”

His eyes sparkled. “I’m pretty sure you can’t mess that up. I keep it in the fridge. There are filter papers behind the machine, and you need to half-fill one of those.”

I used the glass jug to fill the reservoir, and then I went into the fridge for the coffee. The aroma was marvelous. I sniffed at the bag, closing my eyes. Coffee. It had been a while. I couldn’t wait until it had finished dripping through. I poured out a mugful before replacing the jug and letting it finish its task. A spoonful of sugar from the caddy, a drop or two of milk, and I was ready to go. Damian smiled as he watched me take a long drink from the mug. I wrapped my hands around the mug and inhaled deeply before drinking until I had drained it.

“I can tell you really hated every mouthful of that.”

I shrugged. “I’ve missed coffee.”

“While you’re here, you can make it every morning. You already know how I like mine.” He poured himself a mug of coffee and joined me at the table. Damian regarded me thoughtfully. “If you’re up to it, I do have a few questions.”

I straightened in my chair. “Go for it.” It seemed the least I could do after he’d been so kind.

“How do you wash? How do you clean your clothes? I mean, it must be difficult, from what I’ve gleaned so far.”

“I have a couple of sets of clothes,” I explained.” I keep them at a friend’s house. He let me stay there for a while, but he paid rent to his parents, and they weren’t happy with me being there. But he lets me wash there and stow my clothes. I also get to use his washing machine.”

“That doesn’t seem like a lot of clothes,” Damian commented, his face grave.

“I know. At times, I thought about stealing clothes, but I never did, and I never will.” I stared at him, jaw set.

Damian’s smile lit up his face. “Good boy.” His voice was warm with approval. “So, do you want us to go pick up your other set of clothes? Then we can wash the ones you have on.”

Letting Damian anywhere near Frankie’s place wouldn’t be my first choice, but I knew the clothing situation was getting desperate. “Okay,” I said reluctantly.

Damian looked delighted. “Then why don’t we go now?”

There was no way I could back out. So I did the only thing left to me.

I agreed.

Three

Damian

JEFF GAVE me directions, and I wasn’t surprised when I saw our destination was Ardwick. It was a run-down area not far from the city center, although there were plans to regenerate it with improved housing. Ardwick had a park that had seen better days. Behind it was a block of flats backed by old factories, most of them now unused. The whole area was grimy and neglected.

Jeff directed me to the flats, and I pulled up outside it.

“You need to stay in the car.” His face was earnest.

I looked around at the neighborhood. Not happy about this. There were people in the park drinking, and the block was dirty, an eyesore. “You sure I can’t come in with you?”

He shook his head and got out of the car. I watched as he disappeared into the dark entrance to the building, but not long after, he emerged on the second floor balcony. I took a good look at the door, memorizing the flat he entered. It wasn’t long before he came out with a plastic shopping bag.

I peered at it as he got back into the car. There was less than I’d thought. “That doesn’t look like a lot of clothing.”

Jeff glanced at me. “I manage, all right?”

I said nothing, but concentrated on the short drive back to the house. When we were in the kitchen, however, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Let me buy you some new clothes? Please?”

A stubborn expression came over his face. “No.”

I sighed. “What happened to you was wrong. You deserve to be happy. Leo helped your friend, Scott, find Ben.” I locked gazes with him across the table. “If you’re looking for something, let us try to help you. Somewhere to stay, someone who cares. We’ll work it out. But you have to trust us enough to take that step. Will you do it?”

Jeff

I SAT with my gaze fixed on Damian. He looked so honest that for just a minute, I believed him. Then Curtis Rogers flashed through my mind, and it all went to hell. I shook my head. “No, I can’t. I should go. Thank you for what you did for me.” I got up, grabbed my bag, and moved toward the door, my breath coming quickly. Do it now. Don’t think about it: just go.

“Jeff?” I stopped at the sound of Damian’s voice, but refused to turn around. “You can think about it, okay? Come back anytime. I’ll be here for you.”

I couldn’t say a word. My throat seized up as I took my worn jacket from the hook in the hallway. I still wasn’t convinced I was doing the right thing, but my feet kept right on moving. I pulled the door closed behind me and sucked in a lungful of the crisp air. February was bloody cold this year. I half expected Damian to chase after me and tell me to come back to the house. I admit, I was a little disappointed when that didn’t happen.

I got my bearings once I reached the main road. There was a stop nearby, and it wasn’t long before a bus came. The journey into the city center took less than ten minutes. Once I got off the bus, I headed for the back streets off Portland Street in the older part of the center. Eric lived above a print shop in a shabby little flat entirely suited to what took place there. I kept up a silent prayer he’d be in. The thought of needing a pill to get me through a situation and not having one filled me with dread. I stopped at the door with the blistered and peeling paint job, knocked and waited.

Eric opened it. He broke into a huge smile. “Hey, Jeff, come on up. I was just thinking about you.”

Yeah, I’m sure you were.

I followed him up the narrow stairs to his flat with its meagre furniture. Eric closed the door behind him. He fixed his dark eyes on me.

“So, what can I do for you? As if I didn’t know.” He smirked, and the twist of his lips gave his face a cruel appearance for a moment.

“You still have my pills, right?” God, I hoped so. I’d only had one left, but when I went to check on it, all I found was a hole in my pocket.

Eric shrugged. “Sure I got them. But the rules have changed. I’ve had too many people promise to pay up later, and then they haven’t come up with the cash. So my days of being a nice guy are over.” He locked gazes with me. “You still owe me for the last lot. Money first, then you get the pills.”

Oh, shit.

“Eric, I just don’t have it.” My stomach rolled over.

Eric gave a nasty smile. “You could suck me off for five of them.”

I looked at him and swallowed hard. I had done worse. I bobbed my head and dropped to my knees. Eric stepped in front of me and glared down. He sneered and kneed me in the side. I collapsed on the floor, clutching my aching body.

Eric’s eyes blazed. “I get five pounds each for these pills. You want them, bring me the money. Now get out.”

I scrambled, and his foot lashed out again. I wrenched open the door and fled, stumbling down the stairs and out onto the street. I needed those pills, but I couldn’t come up with that kind of money. That only left one option.

Chorlton Street.

Damian

JEFF HAD only been gone for ten minutes when I called Leo. Was it naïve of me that I hadn’t expected the boy to leave like that? Possibly. I only knew I had to keep Leo in the loop.

“He’s gone, Leo.”

“Gone? Bloody hell.” I could hear Leo’s frustration. “Do you think he’ll be back?”

That I didn’t know. “I told Jeff it was his choice. We’ll have to wait and see. I saw where he used to stay, though, in Ardwick.” I shivered at the memory. “Don’t have a clue where he was staying after that. He’s got hardly any belongings, Leo. Just how long can a boy like that last out there?”

“We just have to hope that some sense prevails, and he comes back to you,” Leo said, a note of sadness in his voice. “Let me know if anything happens, okay?”

I assured him I would and hung up.

I had never known a day that crawled by so slowly. Well, that wasn’t quite true. The day Oliver finally slipped away from me had seemed to last an eternity. I tried not to think about that as I got on my laptop and attempted to do some work. That was easier said than done. The words danced on the screen in front of me.

How the hell did Jeff get under my skin so quickly?

I found myself worrying about the boy. What was he doing at that moment? And was it something that could get him hurt?

Late that afternoon, the heavens opened and the rain came down in a deluge. I left my chair and my warm fire and stood by the window, watching the rain hit the pavement with such force it bounced up a few feet. Jeff was out in this somewhere. I hoped to God he had sense enough to duck indoors. But as the evening wore on and there was no sign of Jeff, I resigned myself to the fact he wasn’t coming back.

I made myself dinner and then sat down by the fire, a glass of wine in hand. I glanced at the chair where Jeff had sat. Had it only been twenty-four hours since he’d been brought here? I tried not to look at the clock, but my gaze kept swiveling in its direction. The sound of the rain grew louder. It was a miserable night.

Six o’clock arrived. The TV was silent, my laptop on but closed. I hadn’t had the heart to do any work.

Just get on with something. And don’t think about what he’s doing out there. You gave him a chance, didn’t you?

There came the sound of knocking on my front door.

I was on my feet in an instant. I hurried into the hallway and opened the door. Jeff stood on my doorstep, looking absolutely miserable. His hair clung to his head, just like his sodden clothing clung to his body.

“Get in out of the rain,” I barked, pulling him indoors. He seemed exhausted. I took one look at him and pointed upstairs. “A hot bath. Now.” Talking could wait until he was warm and dry. At least he had another set of clothes to put on.

Jeff didn’t argue. He made his way to the bathroom, plastic bag in hand.

I had an idea. I followed him up the stairs, went into my room, and pulled Oliver’s red robe from my wardrobe. Jeff was sitting on the edge of the bath, shoulders hunched. I held out the robe.

“You can wear this when you’re done,” I told him. “Give me those clothes, and I’ll wash and dry them for you.” I stood there, hand outstretched so he got the message I meant now. He stared at me, wide-eyed, but at last he took off the wringing wet clothes and handed them to me. He was so tired, he didn’t even attempt to cover himself as he emerged from beneath the clothing, thin and pale. I bundled them up and left him to it.

Jeff

I DIDN’T have the energy or the willpower to argue with Damian. I needed to be there. After spending most of the day standing on Chorlton Street in the pouring rain without so much as a sniff of a punter, I was desperate. I needed those pills, but I couldn’t come up with the kind of money Eric demanded. I had no choice. If that’s what it took, I would have to actually do what Curtis had threatened to accuse me of if I tried to tell anyone how he’d really been to me.

No matter how well Damian had treated me, I was going to have to steal from him.

I lay in the hot water, letting it seep into my chilled body, but it wasn’t like the bath of that morning. There was no pleasure in it. All I could think of was having to steal from Damian. I didn’t want to do it. And I couldn’t do it if he was in the house. I just couldn’t.

“You okay in there?”

Damian’s unexpected knock and his voice made me jump.

“I’m fine.” I listened as his footsteps receded. Unable to lie there any longer, I climbed out of the bath and toweled myself dry. Damian was moving around downstairs. I slipped into the soft red robe and snuggled it around my body.

He’s being so good to me, and yet I have to stab him in the back by stealing from him.

In spite of my bath, I felt lousy, unclean.

I opened the bathroom door as quietly as I could and stepped out onto the landing. To my right was the room where I’d slept the night before. To the left had to be Damian’s room, the door ajar. I peered inside at the wide bed with matching oak bedside tables. The room had a warm, homely feel. It was clear which side Damian slept on. To one side there was a photo frame, containing a picture of the same young man I’d already seen. What drew my interest was the frame. It looked like it was made of silver.

That might fetch enough at a pawnshop.

At that moment I loathed myself.

“Come down when you’re ready.” Damian’s voice rose up the stairs.

As I went downstairs, I heard the rumble of a washing machine. I found Damian in the lounge. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, a side table pulled in front of him as he studied the screen of a laptop on top of it.

He looked up as I entered the room. “Feel better for that?”

I nodded. “What are you doing?” I flicked my head toward the computer.

“This is my job. I review books. To be honest, it’s a dream job because I love reading.” He cocked his head. “I didn’t put your clothes on a long cycle. To be honest I wasn’t sure they could take it.” He winked. “Sit down by the fire. I’ll put them in the dryer when they’re done, so you’ll be able to wear them tomorrow.” His gaze went back to his laptop as he returned to the review he’d been writing.

I curled up on the sofa. There was a soft throw over the arm, and I pulled it around me, snuggling back into the cushions. The fire was lovely and warm. I stared into its flames, losing myself for a moment.

“Have you eaten?”

The question pulled me back into the present. I shook my head.

“Well, what would you like?”

I didn’t have a clue. And then an idea came to me.

“You know what I’d really like? Something I haven’t had for such a long time? A cheeseburger.” I pulled a face. “But I guess it’s not really a good night to be going out, what with the weather.” The rain was still audible. My stomach clenched. I had a feeling how Damian would react, knowing the sort of man he was, and here I was, playing on that good nature.

Damian grinned. “A cheeseburger, huh? As it happens, there’s a little kebab shop around the corner that does great burgers. How about I go and get you one?”

I pasted on a grateful smile. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll just make myself some toast.”

Right then I hated myself.

Damian got to his feet and went into the hallway. He came back, pulling on a hooded jacket.

“I won’t be long. And it’s no bother. You stay warm and dry. You’ve had quite enough rain for one day.” He smiled and left the lounge. I heard the front door slam.

I had to work fast. I ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. I snatched up the photo frame, opened the back of it, and removed the photo. I left that on the bed. Then I went into my bedroom and found the clothes I’d picked up from Frankie’s. I changed into them quickly and placed the frame in the plastic bag. I was out of there.

My money was gone, so I had no choice but to walk into the city center. I knew the pawnshop wouldn’t close until at least eight o’clock, but I was cutting it fine. The rain was still coming down, soaking into the collar of my jacket and hair. The wind picked up and intensified the chill on my skin. I put my head down and walked into the wind, shivering.

The pawnbroker was an old man who examined the frame with a cursory glance before offering me forty pounds. I took it without haggling. It was enough, and it told me the frame had to be solid silver. Somehow that made it worse.

I hurried out of the shop and over to Eric’s place.