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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.
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By K.C. Wells and Parker Williams
Collars and Cuffs: Book 8
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.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
More from K.C. Wells and Parker Williams
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About the Authors
By K.C. Wells
By Parker Williams
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Copyright Page
THANKS AS always to our wonderful team of beta readers: Bev, Debra, Jason, Helena, Mardee, Wulf, and Michelle.
A special thank you to Autumn Lokerson, for her thoughts on Trust in a D/s relationship.
Daily Mail, August 8, 2015.
Convicted murderer commits suicide in prison
ACCORDING TO sources in Strangeways Prison, Manchester, Curtis Rogers committed suicide this week. Rogers was convicted in 2014 of the murder of Ethan Samuels and for masterminding a drugs and prostitution ring whose hub was located in Manchester, but with operations spreading out over different continents. He was also convicted of being involved in human trafficking and using young men as drug mules. Rogers was given a life sentence.
Rogers’s conviction was largely due to the testimony of several witnesses who had been part of the organization. His arrest came about as a result of an undercover police operation.
Rogers, fifty, was originally from Manchester and leaves no surviving relatives.
LEO POURED himself his first mug of coffee and stared out of the window. Canal Street was quiet, no great surprise given that it was only ten in the morning. The club wasn’t open to members yet, but it was the first place Leo had thought of for a meeting place. He leaned against the brickwork surrounding the window and closed his eyes.
Christ, I feel old.
The feeling had nothing to do with his forty years and everything to do with his present emotional state. Whichever way he looked at it, what was coming right at them was not going to be good.
“I’ll have one of those while you’re over there.” Thomas entered the office and sat in the chair facing his desk. “I hope you made it strong, because I need it this morning.”
Leo opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at his business partner. “Anyone else arrived yet? Where’s Peter?” Then he realized it was a stupid question—Peter would be with Alex. Leo waved his hand. “Forget I asked, I already know.” He narrowed his gaze. “You haven’t told him, right?” He grabbed Thomas’s mug and filled it to the brim.
Thomas shook his head. “And so far it’s just us four. Who else is coming? I assume Scott and Jeff.”
“Ben was coming in this morning anyway.” Leo handed him the mug before sitting in Thomas’s chair. “He’d arranged to meet JJ.”
“The new barman?”
Leo nodded. “He’ll be doing more hours when Ben goes on honeymoon, so Ben wanted to make sure he knew everything. He’s bringing Scott, who of course texted Alex, wanting to know what’s going on.”
“Of course,” Thomas said, eyebrows arched. “Peter got the same text on the way over here.” He shook his head, this time with a wry smile. “Those three—Collars & Cuffs’ version of the Three Musketeers.”
“How is he?”
“Quiet. Wanting to know what’s going on, of course, but he only asked the once. Telling me he trusts me.” Thomas’s eyes were troubled. He blinked rapidly. “I wanted to tell him there and then, when it was just the two of us.”
Leo opened his mouth to retort, but Thomas cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“It’s okay. I know why you’re doing it like this. He’ll need his support network, and that means his friends.” Thomas sighed. “I’ll be the one supporting him when they’ve gone.”
Leo’s stomach rolled over. “Damian is bringing Jeff. It’ll be good to see Damian, actually. I get that they don’t use the club, but I do miss him.”
A knock sounded at the door, before Alex stuck his head around it. “Ben and Scott are here, Damian and Jeff too.” He held up Leo’s phone. “You left this in the car. There’s a text from Laura Herne.”
Leo beckoned him into the room. “Close the door after you.” He put down his mug, got up from the chair, and walked around the desk.
Alex did as instructed and came over to Leo, straight into his open arms. Leo hugged him. “You ready?”
Alex huffed. “Not really, no.” He kissed Leo on the cheek and handed him his phone.
“What’s the mood like out there?”
Alex shrugged. “Confused, curious. And even more curious when Dr. Herne arrives.” He pulled back and looked Leo in the eye. “That is why she messaged you, isn’t it? You’ve invited her too?”
Leo nodded.
“Wise man,” Thomas remarked. “Seeing as she’s counseled both Peter and Jeff.” He regarded Leo calmly enough, but Leo caught the nervous swallow, the blinking. More was going on below the surface, that much was evident. “Come on. Let’s get out there.”
Leo led the way out of the office, heading for the bar. Peter was sitting with Scott and Jeff, Damian at Jeff’s side, while Ben was in quiet conversation with JJ. Leo thought about asking JJ to leave, but there seemed little point. Once the news got out, he suspected there would be many more such conversations at the club.
“Ben, can you join us for a moment?”
Ben nodded, and after a quiet word with JJ, he left him at the bar and walked over to sit next to Scott. Thomas took a seat next to Peter, and Alex sat next to him.
“The door was open, so I assume it’s safe to come in.” Laura Herne was standing by the main doors, dressed in jeans and a green blouse that went well with her long auburn hair.
Leo went over to greet her. “Thanks for coming.” He shook her hand.
She smiled. “When you told me what had happened, I realized you might need some support.” She glanced over his shoulder. “And judging by the looks I’m getting, they didn’t know I was coming.”
“That’s correct.” Leo led her to the bar and pulled out a chair for her. He gazed at the faces of those seated around the tables. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’ve brought you here this morning. The thing is, a story hit the newspapers that has a bearing on all of you, and we wanted you to hear it here first.”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me.” Scott stared at him with wide eyes before glancing at Ben. “You know what this is about, don’t you?”
Ben bit his lip and avoided Scott’s gaze.
“Look,” Leo butted in, “there’s no easy way to say this, so….” He paused. “Curtis Rogers committed suicide in Strangeways Prison a few days ago.”
The brief silence that followed his words was broken by the sound of breaking glass. All heads turned to look at the bar. JJ’s face was flushed.
“Sorry. I dropped a glass.”
He disappeared out of sight below the bar, and what followed were the obvious sounds of a cleanup, the tinkling of shards being swept up, the sound so sharp in the silence.
“He’s dead?” Peter croaked. His voice was ice in the already cold room.
Leo swung around, his chest constricting. Peter’s green eyes were huge, staring blankly ahead of him. His body was rigid, his head jerked back, and the look of incredulity there sent a stab of pain through Leo.
Leo simply nodded. Peter’s eyes dulled and he pressed his lips together. Scott reached for his friend’s hand and held it so tightly, the skin was white and taut across the knuckles. Thomas took his other hand, his fingers gently stroking it. Next to Thomas, Alex watched his friend in silence, the pain etched across his face.
Jeff’s face was pale. “For real?”
Damian put his arm around him. Jeff swallowed hard.
“It… it feels weird. I mean, I hated him so much, but now….” He put his hand across his mouth, and a smothered sob escaped from behind it. “I can’t believe he’s dead.” He wiped his wet cheeks savagely. “Why am I crying, for him of all people?” Jeff tucked his head into Damian’s shoulder and sobbed.
Damian held him, pulling him onto his lap and cradling him against his chest. “There’s nothing wrong with crying, Jeff. You let it out, okay? You’re among friends here.”
Jeff buried his face in Damian’s neck and nodded, his sobs muffled, dying away. Damian met Leo’s gaze, and Leo saw the pain in his eyes.
“Hey,” Scott said softly, his hand still wrapped tightly around Peter’s. “It’s okay to be upset, Jeff.” He glanced at Ben. “This is awful.”
“Are you okay?” Ben asked him, his forehead furrowed.
“Me?” Scott seemed genuinely puzzled. “Hell, I have no feelings about the man. I never met him. But I don’t like that my friends are hurting.”
He darted a glance in Peter’s direction and frowned. Peter’s expression was still inscrutable. Leo had a feeling there was a lot going on beneath the surface.
“Do you want to go somewhere quiet and talk?” Laura asked Jeff gently.
Jeff lifted his head and shook it. “Actually? I want to go home.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Damian hugged him, and his gaze flickered across to Leo, who nodded. Damian rose to his feet, taking Jeff with him.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”
Jeff hugged Scott. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
Scott nodded. Jeff took Damian’s outstretched hand.
Damian regarded Leo, his expression sober. “I’m going to take care of my boy my way.”
“I understand.”
Leo stood aside, and the two men walked out, Damian’s arm still protectively around Jeff’s shoulders, the smaller man leaning into the taller one.
“Well, I’m glad the bastard is dead,” Peter snarled. “I wish I could have done it myself.” He pulled his hands free of Scott and Thomas.
A shocked silence fell across the room. A gasp broke the quiet, and Leo jerked his head toward the bar. JJ’s jaw had dropped, his gray eyes wide.
“Peter.”
Thomas’s softly spoken entreaty pulled Leo’s attention back to the gathered group.
Thomas reached for Peter, but he dodged Thomas’s arms and rose to his feet, agitatedly running his fingers through his short hair.
“Peter, you don’t mean that,” Alex said quietly.
Peter gaped at him. “I don’t? How the hell would you know? I wish I’d seen the look in his eyes when he realized he’d done the job right and he was dying. I’d love to have heard him beg for forgiveness, because you know what I’d have done then? I’d have turned my back on him.” His eyes were wild, his face white.
Thomas lurched to his feet and grabbed his sub, pulling him close. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, so softly that Leo barely caught it.
From the expression on Peter’s face, Leo doubted the sub heard anything.
“He committed suicide?” Peter wailed. “Why? Couldn’t he take life in prison? God, he’d only been in there a year. I had to suffer that bastard’s cruelty for four years!” He sank to his knees, his head in his hands. “God help me, he’s dead, but I still hate him so much. Why do I still hate him?”
Thomas knelt next to him, slipping his arms around him, and Peter pressed his face to Thomas’s wide chest. Thomas jerked his head up to stare at Leo, a dazed expression on his face, his usual confidence not in evidence.
Silence crept over the room. Leo felt sick. No one could fault Peter for the way he felt. What had happened to him at the man’s hands was monstrous.
Scott and Alex reacted swiftly, surrounding Peter and Thomas, but Peter shook off their attempts to comfort him, sliding out of their embrace.
Laura moved decisively too. She went over to Peter and crouched down next to him. “Sweetie? How about you and I go into Thomas’s office and have a talk?”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Thomas echoed. “If only until you feel calmer.”
Peter lifted his face. “Will… will you come too?”
Leo’s chest tightened. In that moment, the man of twenty-nine years had been submerged in a bewildered, fragile version that Leo had thought long since vanished.
Thomas gazed at him, his eyes glistening. “Just you try to stop me,” he said hoarsely, attempting a smile.
Peter nodded, and Thomas helped him to his feet, his arm around Peter’s waist.
“Why don’t you go into one of the private rooms?” Leo suggested. “That way, if I need to go in the office, I won’t be disturbing you. And the club won’t be open for a few hours yet.” The mood he was in, Leo didn’t want to open at all.
Thomas nodded. “That sounds good.” He glanced at his lover. “Shall we?”
Peter gave him a tight smile, and the three walked out of the bar. Scott and Alex watched their departure, both wearing equally glum expressions.
Scott turned to Ben. “We need to talk,” he said simply. When Ben frowned, Scott let out a sigh. “About the wedding.”
The skin on the back of Leo’s neck prickled. Their wedding was the next weekend.
“Okay,” Ben said slowly. “What’s on your mind?” He spoke calmly.
Scott squared his jaw. “I want to change the date.”
Next to him, Alex’s jaw dropped.
Leo was so proud of Ben, who nodded, still calm. “Okay. Now tell me why.”
“You think I can get married while all this shit is going down?” Scott blurted out. “Peter’s one of my best men. I don’t think he’s gonna be in any state to stand at my side and be cheerful, et cetera, with all of this hanging over him.” His eyes pleaded with Ben. “Sir, my friends are upset. A wedding is supposed to be a happy occasion. You think I’m gonna feel happy, knowing they’re not?”
Ben regarded him in silence for a moment. “What about Annie?” he said at last. “She’s due in from Spain in a couple of days. She’d need to change her flights.”
“No problem,” Leo interjected. Scott’s impassioned plea made his heart ache. “I’ll pay for her new flights. This is important.”
Ben’s jaw set, and Leo repressed a sigh. Ben and his bloody pride. But to his surprise, his bar manager relaxed and sighed.
“Okay, pup, let’s go home and talk about this.” He caught Leo’s eye. “Looks like I have a few phone calls to make.”
If Leo had been proud of him before…. Ben had grown so much since he and Scott first got together.
Ben glanced toward JJ, who was standing behind the bar, gazing at the monitor. “JJ? I’ll be back for when the club opens. You’re not in until tomorrow, so go home and enjoy what’s left of your day off. Thanks again for coming in. You think you’ve got the hang of everything?”
JJ nodded slowly. “Pretty much.” His gaze flickered to where Leo and Alex were sitting. “Think I’ve seen everything I need to.”
“Great.” Ben gave him a warm smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He held out a hand to Scott. “Come on, pup.”
Scott hugged Alex, and then the two left the club.
“I’m nearly done here,” JJ told Leo. “I just need to check the stock before I go.” He disappeared into the stock room behind the bar.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Leo said to his husband. He gave Alex a speculative glance. “You’ve been very quiet through all this. Are you all right?” He went over to Alex and put his arms around him.
Alex kissed him. “Me? I’m fine. I was more concerned for Jeff, Scott, and Peter.” His brow knitted. “Peter’s reaction really floored me. I had no idea he still felt like that.”
“Me neither.” Although maybe some tiny part of Leo had suspected, hence the decision to call Laura.
“I’m worried about him.” Alex stared off in the direction his friend had taken.
Leo leaned in and kissed him. “He’s in good hands,” he said softly. “And if he needs you, you know he’ll tell you. He always has, hasn’t he?”
“I suppose.” Alex didn’t sound convinced.
Leo cupped Alex’s cheek and locked gazes with him. “Then trust him now.” He released Alex and gave a quick glance toward the private rooms. He hoped Laura had things under control.
A flare of pain through his temples killed whatever else he’d been about to say. Leo wasn’t surprised. The morning’s tension had taken its toll on his body. He winced when a fresh wave of pain spread across the top of his head.
“Leo? What’s wrong?”
“Apart from what feels like the beginnings of a migraine, nothing.” He didn’t get them often, so maybe he was overdue for one.
“Is there anything I can do?” Alex kept his voice low. “Have you got your tablets with you?”
“Ye—damn. No, they’re at home. Aspirin will have to do. I have some in the desk drawer in the office.”
Alex kissed his temple very, very gently. “I’ll fetch a couple, along with some water.”
Leo gave him a grateful smile, and Alex hurried off to the office.
I’m a lucky man. His heart went out to Thomas. If Peter was hurting, then so was his best friend.
ALEX STEPPED inside the office Leo and Thomas shared and closed the door before making his way to the desk. He opened the center drawer but found no aspirin. He went to the next drawer. Bingo. A bottle of aspirin lay on its side, next to a frame lying facedown. Alex picked up both and found himself looking at his husband, albeit a younger looking Leo. It was a photograph he’d never seen before. Leo had his arm wrapped around another man’s shoulder. They were smiling. In that instant he knew. Alex recognized the pure joy that radiated from his man.
“Gabe,” Alex said softly.
As he ran his fingers over the picture, Alex wondered why Leo kept it in his desk drawer. He could understand Leo doing that when he and Alex had first met. Alex knew himself well enough to know how he would’ve reacted if he’d found the photo then. The old Alex would have felt threatened, uncertain, unwanted. But he hadn’t been that Alex in a long time—Leo had seen to that. He’d instilled Alex with confidence, the ability to assess a situation and come up with a way to deal with it instead of letting himself be sucked down into self-doubt.
Alex studied Gabe’s features, the happy smile, the bright eyes. Leo never talked with Alex about Gabe. He knew they’d been in love—any fool who saw the picture would know that. Did he think I wouldn’t be able to handle it? Or maybe Leo wasn’t prepared to talk about him. Either way, Gabe didn’t belong in a drawer. Alex smiled and slid the picture into what Leo always referred to jokingly as his “manbag.” He grabbed two bottles of water from the small refrigerator and hurried back to Leo.
JJ was back behind the bar, and Leo was sitting at one of the tables, massaging his head gently. Poor baby. Not that Alex would have said that to his face, and especially not in front of JJ. Alex didn’t know the barman all that well—he’d only been with the club about four months—but Alex was certain one did not refer to one of the club’s two owners as “baby.”
Alex handed over the two bottles and sat at Leo’s side.
“Thank you,” Leo murmured gratefully. He cracked the bottle of water, popped the two tablets in his mouth, then swished them around before swallowing, wincing.
“Problem?” Alex asked, trying to stifle a chuckle.
Leo scowled. “I can’t swallow pills. Which you bloody well know.”
Alex laughed, then covered his mouth when he saw JJ looking at him. Alex coughed. “So you can deep-throat, but a little pill gives you problems?”
Leo flushed. “It’s a good job I love you.”
Alex smirked, and Leo attempted to raise his eyebrows, giving up when it clearly caused him pain.
“Just remember one thing, smartarse. Migraines don’t last, and when this one is gone, I will still remember everything.”
Alex grinned. “Ooh, I’m so scared of the Big Bad Dom.” Behind him he caught JJ’s smothered gasp.
When Leo was feeling better, Alex was going to be in trouble.
Yeah, bring it on.
THOMAS STOOD, his back to the wall, never taking his eyes off his lover. Peter’s head was bowed, his hands clutching the arms of the chair, while Laura spoke to him quietly. Thomas didn’t need to hear what was said. That was between them. He knew from past experience that if Laura felt she could share something, she would.
One look at his flushed face and neck, the clenched hands, the tremors that occasionally rippled through him, was enough to tell Thomas his boy was suffering. The realization made Thomas’s stomach churn. He didn’t think for one second that Laura could make all the hurt and rage go away with a few whispered words of comfort or advice. No, this was a stopgap until both of them were able to sit down and discuss what was happening at length.
I really thought we’d weathered this particular storm. In that moment it seemed to Thomas that the last few years had simply been a time of respite after a squall, a momentary lull before the storm clouds gathered and obliterated the sunlight.
He closed his eyes, his heart aching for what Peter was going through. His limbs felt like dead weights. He’s going to need me. Not just Thomas—all his friends. Because Thomas wasn’t sure he could do this on his own.
“Thomas?”
He opened his eyes, and Laura beckoned him. Peter stared at the floor, his expression blank.
“I think Peter needs to go home now,” she said quietly. “I’ll expect to see him in my office at ten on Monday morning.” She smiled. “Yes, I know it’s a bank holiday, but I’ll be open for business as usual. You can bring him, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t stay for the session.” She smiled at Peter. “We have a lot of things to discuss.”
Peter blinked and swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, the word leaving his lips in a sigh.
“Thank you, Laura.” Thomas regarded Peter keenly. “Let’s go home.”
Peter nodded and rose unsteadily to his feet. All the fight seemed to have left him, and this quiet, subdued Peter was nothing like the man Thomas had come to know and love. For a moment he wished for nothing more than the opportunity to hurl his rage at the sky, to growl at the man who’d brought his lover to this state. He wanted Curtis there, close enough to see into Thomas’s eyes, to see the rage that burned there, the white-hot anger that wanted to see Curtis dead for what he’d done.
Except he was already dead.
Laura followed him and Peter from the room. In the bar Leo was sitting at a table, drinking water and talking quietly with Alex. No one else was in sight.
“Where is everyone?”
Leo squinted at him, his forehead furrowed. “Ben and Scott have gone home to discuss changing their wedding day, JJ’s just left, and Alex is going to go home and change before his shift at Severino’s.” He huffed out a long breath. “And I am debating staying here or going home for a couple of hours to find an ice pack in the freezer and apply it to my aching head.” He gazed past Thomas to where Peter was standing with Laura. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Thomas said absently. Things were far from fine, but nothing he could do right then was going to alter that. “Do you want me to work today? I know it’s you on the roster, but look at you. You’re in no state.”
Leo stared at him. “I will be fine once the painkillers kick in. You, on the other hand, need to go home and spend time with your boy. So go.” He muttered under his breath, something about an overactive duty gland.
Thomas held up his hands. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He speared Leo with a firm stare. “But if you change your mind, you’ll—”
“I’ll call someone like Jonathon, not you.” Leo gave him a mock glare. “Go home, old man. Peter?”
“Yes, sir?” Peter came forward slowly.
Leo pointed at Thomas. “Take him home, and make sure he stays there.”
Peter bobbed his head, but there was no smile. Leo got up slowly from the table and took his car keys from his pocket. He held them out to Alex.
“You get to drive the Mazda.”
Alex was clearly trying not to grin. “Yes.” He went over to Peter and gave him a hug. “Call me if you need to talk, okay?”
Peter nodded. “I just feel a little tired, to be honest. Maybe after a rest I’ll feel better.” He returned Alex’s hug. “Thanks.” When Alex gave him a quizzical glance, Peter frowned. “I’m fine, all right?”
After nearly three years together, Thomas knew Peter’s moods. He’d watched the young man since they’d rescued him from Curtis Rogers, and whatever else Peter might have been right then, he definitely wasn’t fine. For one thing, he was always generous with any hug he gave Alex, but this time it had been stiff, almost painful to see. There had been no smile, no true affection, just a robotic squeeze.
Peter came to stand by Thomas. “Are you ready to go home, Peter?” When Peter merely nodded, Thomas laid a hand on Peter’s arm. “Are you okay, lad?”
Peter sucked in a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
The venom in Peter’s voice caught Thomas off guard. His attitude since they’d arrived at the club had gone downhill dramatically. While Thomas understood the shock and pain Peter had to be feeling, it didn’t excuse the attitude. He pulled back his hand.
“Wait for me at the car,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. Without a word, Peter strode out of the club.
This is not good.
“Thomas.”
Laura’s quiet voice beside him gave him a start. She squeezed his shoulder lightly.
“He’s not himself right now, and I know that was no way to speak to you, but please, don’t take it personally. He’s really hurting, but he can’t take out his rage on the person he’s mad at, so he’s lashing out at those nearest to him. The thing is, Peter knows deep down that you don’t deserve it, but he can’t help himself.”
“So what do you suggest I do, Laura?” Thomas leaned against the bar with both hands, his head down, eyes tight shut.
There was that gentle squeeze again.
“Don’t treat him any differently. Yes, he needs to know you’re there for him, but he also needs to understand that, even though he’s angry at the world right now, your expectations about his behavior haven’t changed. I know it’s tempting to want to wrap him in cotton wool and protect him, but if you ignore it when he steps out of line, you are not doing him any favors.” She smiled. “You’re his Master. He might have forgotten that, but you haven’t, have you?”
He had to smile at that. “No, no I haven’t.”
Laura grinned. “Then maybe Peter needs a reminder of what the D stands for in BDSM.” With that she kissed his cheek and walked out through reception.
Thomas watched her departure, deep in thought. Maybe it was time for some discipline.
JJ CLOSED his front door behind him, locked it, and drew the bolt across. He didn’t have that much for anyone to break in and steal from him, but he wasn’t about to take his chances. It wasn’t the safest of neighborhoods, but like the saying went, beggars couldn’t be choosers. One lousy room with a postage-stamp-sized bathroom, but it was all he could afford. Still, if Ben offered him more hours, maybe he could find something better.
And there I go again, acting like I’m going to be staying.
The truth was, he didn’t know anymore.
JJ dumped his backpack and keys onto the small table and trudged across to the sofa bed that was left permanently unfolded. He sat on the edge and flopped onto his back, throwing an arm across his eyes to blot out the sight of that hideous lampshade. The morning hadn’t gone like he’d expected, but then nothing had gone like he’d expected from the minute he’d walked into that club. When he’d applied for the job, four months previously, he’d assumed he knew what he’d be walking into. He’d watched BDSM videos. He read stuff. And yet nothing had prepared him for what he saw.
And that was before he’d met the people….
Everyone was… nice. Average, but nice. Well, okay, maybe JJ hadn’t spoken to everyone, but hell, a barman got to meet most people, and he had yet to meet anyone who’d struck him as unpleasant. Leo Hart seemed like a fantastic guy. JJ watched how the club members spoke with the tall owner, and there was just so much respect and genuine liking for the man. There was no faking the way they looked at him.
And as for Thomas Williams, JJ had thought him quite stern and standoffish—until the first time he’d seen him with his sub, Peter. God, talk about a man in love. It shone out of him. Once JJ had seen that side to Leo’s business partner, he’d watched Thomas with new eyes. He saw Thomas’s sense of humor, the caring manner he had with the submissives, who plainly looked up to him with admiration. And the way the Doms acted when Thomas was around…. Whenever he was on the main floor of the club, Thomas always had a good word to say about everyone, and the Doms looked like they’d burst with pride when he complimented them on a scene. Not to mention the way Peter looked at him, like he was the moon and stars.
Peter….
JJ shivered. He couldn’t drive that image from his mind—Peter’s usually calm features contorted with rage and hatred, so unlike him. That had been just one of the morning’s shocks, but it hadn’t been the worst, by any means.
No, that had been hearing from Leo Hart’s lips that his father had committed suicide.
JJ sat up and took his phone from his jeans pocket. He debated calling his mother but quickly dismissed the idea. He wanted to demand if she’d known, and if so, why she hadn’t thought to tell him. But what was the point? He doubted she’d tell him the truth. JJ genuinely believed she wouldn’t recognize the truth if it was biting her in the arse.
He got up and grabbed his bag off the small table. A hole had begun to form in it, which meant he’d need to get a new one soon or risk losing everything he had in it. He reached inside and pulled out a couple of paperback books, then opened one of them and removed a tattered newspaper clipping. He gazed at the man in the picture and frowned.
Was my life easier, simpler, when I didn’t know the truth? Even though I now know everything I’d grown up believing was a lie?
Growing up without a dad had been hard enough, but some part of him had always been proud of the man he’d never known, the US soldier who’d whisked JJ’s mother off her feet in a whirlwind romance while he was stationed over in the UK. JJ had listened to his mum talk about their romantic affair that had ended so tragically when his dad had gone off to do a tour in the Gulf War, never to return.
The handsome man in the photo, his father when he was in his twenties, stared back at him.
JJ regarded him with a heavy heart. “When I was younger, I dreamed about you. I thought you were this amazing man who had singlehandedly saved his regiment. I wanted to meet you so badly.” Except of course, he was dead, according to Mum.
Did I bring this on myself? Wanting to reach out to this American family I knew nothing about? Only for his mum to tell him they wanted nothing to do with him.
More lies. Always more lies.
He left the newspaper cutting on the bed and walked over to the little kitchenette to put the kettle on. Some tea sounded like a good idea. He filled the kettle, switched it on, and stood there, watching the water begin to bubble in the blue-lit side panel. In his head he could still see his mother’s face, the day he’d gone to her with the copy of his birth certificate, wanting to know why there was no father named on it. Except now he saw her expression for what it had been—not hurt that he’d gone behind her back to obtain it but anger that she’d been caught out in a lie.
JJ gripped the edge of the worktop and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he whispered. Should he believe his mother, who told him that when she’d found herself pregnant after one night with Curtis Rogers, he’d offered to pay for an abortion? And that he’d given her the money to do so? Or how about the lurid newspaper headlines that had painted a picture of Curtis as a sadistic monster, running a prostitution ring, a drug dealer, a murderer…. JJ didn’t want to believe that.
The kettle clicked off, and JJ poured boiling water over the waiting tea bag. He knew why his thoughts were such a conflicted mess. He’d gotten an idea in his head from reading the trial transcripts and had decided to follow it up. He glanced at the photo lying on his bed.
“I thought I knew. I figured those people at Collars & Cuffs had somehow done this to you. Turned you into some kind of scapegoat for whatever they’d been doing. I really believed that.”
Until he’d met them.
Do I believe what I see with my own eyes? Because what he was seeing didn’t fit his theory. Loving relationships. A whip wielded in love. A flogger in the hands of the submissive’s lover. Are the men at the club really what they seem, or is there something going on that I don’t know about? And why would Peter be so happy Curtis was dead? What happened between the two of them? The look on Peter’s face and the way everyone had seemed so shocked by his outburst, as though such a reaction was totally unlike him….
Maybe it is. I don’t know him, do I?
“I don’t know what to believe anymore!” he wailed. JJ growled at his own vacillation. He picked up the mug of steaming liquid and hurled it across the room, watching it slam against the wall and shatter, its contents running down in jagged paths.
He sighed as the dark liquid pooled on the floor, adding yet another stain to the carpet. He’d have to try and clean it up at some point, but not right now. Instead he turned and got a different mug, dropped a fresh bag in, and poured more water over it. Then he stood and stared as the water and tea leaves blended together, while he thought about how he’d gotten to this point in his life.
He’d gone into that club with such preconceived notions. After reading the transcripts, the witness statements, he’d expected to find depravity. To witness torture. To see cages, like the ones that had apparently been found in his father’s house. And sure, he’d seen guys on the receiving end of a whip, but he’d also seen aftercare. He’d gone there expecting to hate all those people. He’d marched in there, determined to prove that they were no different from his father. He’d had this bizarre idea that, once he’d achieved his goal, he could somehow prove his father innocent, prove that everything was just a fucking lie.
But what really frightened him?
The idea that, deep down, he knew everything he’d learned about Curtis was true. Because maybe that would explain why, for a fraction of a second after Leo’s announcement, JJ had felt a brief flare of joy that Curtis was dead. Fuck, that had rocked him to his core.
That’s not me. I’m not like that… am I?
JJ bowed his head and steadied himself against the worktop. He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to be calm. When he’d regained his composure, he squeezed out the tea bag, dropped it into the waste bin, and added milk from the fridge. He took the mug over to his bed and sat down, staring at the photo of his father that was nothing like the ones used when he’d been sentenced.
“I wish I could talk to you, Dad. I keep thinking you’d be the only one who would tell me what was real.” Then he snorted. “Who am I kidding? You’d probably lie to me, just like she did.”
He picked up the clipping and with one hand scrunched it into a tight wad of paper and flung it toward the waste bin. JJ had never felt so lost. With that one announcement, Leo Hart had smashed JJ’s original plan to smithereens, to the point where he debated whether it was worth staying in the job. He’d lost everything, even his grief. How could he grieve for a man he never knew? Especially when everything he was learning about Curtis seemed to show he was the monster people had said he was.
“All I want is someone who won’t lie to me,” he whispered, staring blankly into the distance.
He knew he wasn’t about to quit his job, however, because of what he’d seen there. The level of trust between Doms and subs. The absolute intimacy between them. God, he wanted that. He longed for it. To have someone who believed in him. Someone he could trust in. Someone who’d keep him grounded in the here and now, rather than letting him dwell on the past fiction that was his life.
He’d watched them at the club. Ben had Scott. Leo had Alex. Thomas had Peter. And there were others too.
“I want that too.” He whispered his heartfelt desire, let it out into the open in the hope that someone heard it.
THOMAS OPENED the door to their guest room. Peter was lying on the bed, facing away from the door, and as Thomas entered there was no movement from him, no sign he was aware of Thomas’s presence.
He knows, all right. Thomas had hoped the half hour time-out would have put Peter in a better frame of mind. The whole trip home had been spent in silence. Thomas had waited for him to say more, to give vent to whatever was on his mind, but Peter had stared out of the windscreen, his lips pressed together. When they arrived at the house, Thomas had been disappointed to find Peter still sullen, snapping at Thomas when he inquired how Peter was. Thomas had put up with it for all of fifteen minutes before he’d decided enough was enough and suggested the time-out. He could still see Peter’s expression of amazement that Thomas would even suggest such a thing.
“You’re going to treat me like I’m a six-year-old?”
Thomas arched his eyebrows. “Seeing as you’re behaving like one, it seems appropriate.”
“Peter? Can we talk?”
Peter rolled over to face him. “Well, that depends.” He huffed. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”
Thomas stared at him in dismay. “Why don’t you at least try to tell me what’s on your mind?”
“Because,” Peter enunciated slowly, “I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”
“Sit up,” Thomas instructed.
There was a moment’s delay before Peter complied, his eyes dull. He sat at the edge of the bed, hands in his lap.
Thomas walked over to where the straight-backed chair stood against the wall and pulled it into the middle of the floor. He stood behind it and met Peter’s gaze. “Stand up and come here.”
His forehead faintly creased, Peter slowly rose and came to stand in front of Thomas.
Thomas breathed deeply. “Regardless of how today’s news made you feel, how you behaved this morning was not acceptable, although I could understand it.” He gripped the back of the chair. “However, how you are behaving now will not be tolerated.”
Peter’s eyes widened and his lips parted, but no sound came forth.
“As your Master, it would be remiss of me to let that go.” Thomas focused on those green eyes. “So I’m not going to.” He sat on the chair and gazed up at Peter. “Over my knee, boy.”
Stunned silence, then Peter broke out into a laugh.
Thomas waited. “Have you finished?” he asked quietly when the laughter had died away. “Over my knee.”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “So you’re my dad now? You’re going to spank me?”
Thomas sighed. “No, I’m your Master. And yes, I’m going to spank you.”
When Peter winced, Thomas knew he’d hit the mark. Peter moved slowly, coming to stand between Thomas’s spread legs. Before he could place himself over Thomas’s left thigh, Thomas stopped him with a hand held high.
“Your jeans, down to your ankles. Underwear too.”
Peter swallowed but did as he was told, his fingers fumbling with the button on his waistband, hands shaking as he pulled his pants down to reveal his pale arse with its scars. In silence he lowered himself over Thomas’s thigh, his head and shoulders angled toward the floor, bottom tilted up. Thomas placed his right leg over Peter’s legs to restrain him. He rubbed over the firm globes and then started, slowly at first, pausing in between blows now and again to squeeze the rosy flesh.
Peter kept up the silence for about a minute, his body stiffening as Thomas sped up, not settling into a rhythm, trying to keep him from guessing where his hand would land next.
Come on, boy. Let it out.
“Okay, you can stop now,” Peter ground out through gritted teeth.
Thomas ignored him and continued, the blows raining down hard on Peter’s arse, the delicate rose becoming red.
“I said you can stop now.” Louder this time.
“I’m the Master,” Thomas informed him. “So I say when it’s time to stop, not you.”
Peter squirmed on his knee, legs tensing with each new blow.
“Stop,” he yelled.
“I know it’s said the memory is the first casualty in growing old, but mine is still as sharp as ever,” Thomas told him, “and that isn’t your safeword, so I’m not stopping.” Everything in him told Thomas they were almost there.
“This isn’t fair!” Peter wailed.
“What isn’t?” Harder now, Peter’s cheeks bright red.
“Curtis killing himself!”
Thomas stilled his hand. “So what? He killed himself. The world’s a better place without him.” A couple more swats.
Peter pushed at Thomas’s thigh and struggled to sit up. Thomas allowed it. Peter’s eyes were wild.
“He was a fucking coward! One year in prison and he couldn’t take it? What about justice? What’s the use in sending him to prison for what he did if he goes and escapes justice? How come he gets to set himself free when I had to endure that bastard for four fucking years!” Tears streamed down his face. “And where’s the justice for Ethan? Curtis fucking murdered him. He was only twenty-two. He’s never going to get any older. Do you get that?” His body jerked with the force of his sobs. “Everyone is going to be, ‘Oh, poor Curtis, killing himself,’ but what about me and Jeff? We’re the ones who have to deal with it all over again, and he gets off scot-free. We have to pick up the pieces again. Where’s the justice in that? Curtis is gone, he’s out of it, but we’re not.”
Thomas pulled Peter up into his arms and held him close, feeling the sobs that racked Peter’s body. “That’s it, lad. Let it out.” He held on to his own emotions and supported his lover.
“So fucking unfair,” Peter sobbed, his body trembling.
“But you’re free now,” Thomas whispered.
“No, I’m not.”
The words were also a whisper, but he caught them anyway, and his heart stuttered to hear them.
Carefully he eased Peter’s jeans and underwear over his arse, catching Peter’s wince as the fabric brushed against the heated flesh. Then Peter was back in his arms, clinging to him, hiccupping, small sobs jerking out of him at intervals. When his tears died away and he was calm once more, Thomas lifted his lover and carried him to their room.
He needed to hold Peter for a while, to let him feel how much he was loved.
“HONEY, I’M home.”
Alex laughed and came out of the kitchen to greet his husband. “We’ve talked about this, right? You do not walk into this apartment and talk to me like I’m the little wife.”
Leo kissed him soundly on the cheek. “Aw, but you’d look great in an apron, holding a glass of beer out for your weary, hard-working hubby.” He smirked. “And besides, no one in their right mind would call you little.”
Alex quirked his eyebrows. “One, you don’t drink beer, which is why there’s a glass of chilled chardonnay on the living room table, waiting for you. Two, excuse me—weary? Hard-working? You’ve been standing around in leather chaps and a harness, watching while guys do all manner of things to each other, which probably included a lot of fucking, because, hey, it’s Saturday night, right?”
Leo sighed happily. “What can I say? I love my job.”
Alex didn’t miss the lines around Leo’s eyes, however. “You all right to have some wine? I wasn’t sure, what with the migraine this morning.” He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “And it is late. There’s some lamb casserole ready to be nuked in the microwave if you’re hungry.”
Leo pulled Alex into his arms. “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”
Alex closed his eyes and lost himself in the tender kiss. Three years on, and Leo’s kisses still made him weak at the knees.
Leo broke the kiss. “But now I definitely need that drink.” He headed for the living room.
For one brief moment Alex wondered if he’d done the right thing. There was always the possibility that Leo wouldn’t notice, but then again, who was he kidding? Leo noticed everything.
“Damian phoned me this afternoon,” Leo called out to him.
“Is everything okay?” Alex went to pour himself a glass of wine.
“He said he’s taking Jeff away for a while to heal.” There was a pause. “I think he’s really going to lock the two of them away in his house. Jeff may not be a sub, but Damian is still a Dom, and he’ll do whatever he can to fix this for them both.”
Alex walked into the living room and deposited his glass on the coffee table. He stepped behind the sofa, and leaning over, he began rubbing Leo’s shoulders, noting the tension.
Leo groaned. “God, that feels good. I’ll give you a hundred pounds if you don’t stop.”
Alex grinned. “Wow. Is that all you think my massages are worth? I think I’ve just been insulted.”
Leo chuckled. Alex kneaded the stiff muscles on Leo’s shoulders.
“I still can’t get over this morning.”
“You’re thinking about Peter.”
Alex nodded. “I’ve never seen him like that, not even when he first arrived at Thomas’s house. I thought he’d dealt with all of this.”
Leo sighed. “Well, obviously the news has opened up a wound. Like I said this morning, all you can do is be there for him.”
He froze, and Alex knew he’d seen the photo. Here we go.
“Where did you get that?” Leo demanded.
Alex gave up on his massage and walked around the couch to sit next to Leo. “Your desk drawer. Why did you hide it away?” He regarded Leo calmly, although his heart was hammering.
Leo leaped up from the couch and stalked to the picture. He reached for it, until Alex shouted, “Don’t you dare. Leave it where it is.”
Leo pulled his hand away and turned back to Alex, his brow furrowed. “Care to explain why it’s here and not in my desk drawer?”
“Why do you think you need to hide him, Leo?”
Leo arched his eyebrows. “How many people have pictures of their dead lovers hanging in the house?”
“How many have never talked to their husbands about the man they loved?” Alex countered.
Leo seemed genuinely puzzled. Alex sighed.
“I’m not jealous of him, Leo. Maybe I might have been if I’d seen this when we first met, but now?” He smiled. “He was important to you. And that is important to me. Is it so strange that I’d like to know something about him?”
Leo stared at him before bowing his head briefly, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Finally he raised his head and a slow smile crept across his face. “The funny thing is, you remind me of him. Not that this was why I asked you out, you understand. That was the last thing on my mind. Believe me. Back then I—”
Alex chuckled. “Quit digging that hole. Let me snuggle up with you on the couch, and then you can tell me about him.”
Leo sat on the couch and held his arm wide in invitation. Alex didn’t hesitate. He cuddled up to his husband, his head against Leo’s shoulder and Leo’s arm around him. Leo pressed a kiss to Alex’s head.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” He took a sip of wine and leaned his head against the seat cushion.
“Well, start with the first time you noticed him.”
Leo chuckled. “That’s easy—when he came to check out the club. It wasn’t like I could miss him. Everywhere I went that night, there he was, watching me, this cheeky grin on his face.”
“How old was he? What did he look like?”
Leo shifted position, tugging Alex onto his lap, his arms around him. “He was twenty-three. He was shorter than you, maybe five nine, with blond hair and blue eyes.”
Alex snickered. “I’m seeing a pattern here.”
“Brat.” Leo smacked Alex’s thigh lightly. “And you’re not a natural blond, remember? The collar and cuffs don’t match.”
“You leave my highlights out of this,” Alex said with a grin.
“Can I finish my story?”
Alex sighed. “Fine.”
“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I couldn’t help noticing him. Then Thomas called me into the office one evening….”
2004
“WHAT’S UP?” Leo closed the office door behind him and stared at the large box on the desk. “Wow. Business must be good if we’re splurging on a coffee machine.” He snickered.
Thomas peered at him over the rim of his glasses. “I’ve put up with the crappy instant coffee you drink for two years now. I think it’s about time for this, don’t you?” He began to open the box. “And before you ask, yes, business is doing well, thank you very much.”
“Glad to hear it.” Leo settled in the leather chair facing the wide desk and then propped his feet up on it.
Thomas merely glanced at him before unpacking the machine. “I know you have the longest legs around here, lad, but that doesn’t give you the right to put your feet on my desk.”
“Our desk,” Leo said with a grin. “Remember? What’s yours is mine, et cetera.”
Thomas folded his arms. “Oh, I get it. Well, if we’re sharing the desk, I assume you’ll want to share the coffee too.”
Leo shrugged and smiled. Thomas narrowed his gaze.
“I see. If we’re all about sharing, does that mean I get to share the vetting with you? There’s a pile of new applicants to go through.” His eyes twinkled.
“Oh no,” Leo said firmly. “That is most definitely your domain, old man. Besides, you keep telling me how good you are at it.” He peered beyond Thomas at the neat pile of application forms. “Are they really all new applicants?”
Thomas nodded. “We are getting noticed, my friend.”
“It’s taken long enough,” Leo grumbled. Two years since they’d decided to go into business together and open a BDSM club, and it looked like their venture was finally paying off.
“We’ve got ten new members so far this week,” Thomas told him. “Four Doms, six subs.”
“Nice ratio,” Leo remarked. “Experienced Doms?”
Thomas did a seesawing motion with his hand. “A couple of them are defecting from another club. Seems it’s gone downhill under a change of management.”
“Its loss is our gain.”
“I agree.” Thomas picked up the sheaf of forms and leafed through them. “There’s one Dom I really like the look of. I’ve arranged to watch him next week. Fellow by the name of Miles Daventree.” Then he grinned. “And about the new subs…. There’s one here who is requesting a scene with a specific Dom.”
“Oh? Who?”
“You.” That grin widened as Thomas handed over an application form. “Take a look.”
Leo opened the manila folder and froze when he saw the photo. “Oh. Him.” He raised his head to find Thomas regarding him inquiringly. Leo sighed. “He turned up last week to check us out. Then he came back. Every night.” More than anything, Leo remembered the bold glances across the main floor of the club. The sub definitely wasn’t the shy type.
“Ooh, keen. I like that.” Thomas tilted his head to one side. “What is it? Don’t you like him?”
Leo said nothing but shifted uncomfortably on his chair, not meeting Thomas’s gaze. Thomas chuckled.
“Oh. You do like him.”
Leo handed the folder back with a low growl, which Thomas ignored. He peered at the form.
“Gabe Manning. Twenty-three. Been a member of a few clubs, so he’s experienced.” His gaze met Leo’s. “Not that I didn’t already know that after talking with him for less than five minutes.”
“Oh?”
Thomas laughed. “He’s a character, that one.” He gave Leo a keen glance. “I’m surprised he hasn’t spoken to you yet. He certainly sounded keen to do a scene with you.”
“Has he specified what he’d like to do in a scene too?” Leo thought Gabe sounded like a brat. There’d been that whole cocky attitude to him.
“God, yes! He was very specific. He wants it to involve the St. Andrew’s cross, and he went so far as to specify which whip he wanted used on him, but stated it had to be one that’s never been used before.”
Leo groaned. Thomas’s words confirmed his suspicions. “God save us from pushy bottoms.”
“I think he sounds just right for you. I’ll set it up for next week.” Thomas’s eyes gleamed. “I might just come and watch. In fact, this might be a good time to make a training video for some of our members. Yes, I think I’ll do that.”
What the hell? Leo arched his eyebrows. “Oh, you will, huh? Do I not get any say in this?”
“No.” Thomas closed the folder with a smile. “I think this is just what you need—someone to push your buttons.”
Leo gave Thomas a hard stare. “And what if I don’t want my buttons pushed?”
“La-la-la, can’t hear you,” Thomas sang back as he walked through the office to the door, coffee jug in hand.
“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Leo shouted after him. He shook his head.
Seconds later Thomas stuck his head around the door. “Because I make better coffee than you, I was your first Dom, and I do all the jobs you hate around here.” He grinned and then disappeared again.
Leo couldn’t argue with any of that.
LEO SMOOTHED the cooling gel into the heated flesh of Gabe’s back. “Does that feel good?” He thought he was doing a damn good job of keeping his emotions in check, considering what that brat had put him through.
Gabe nodded, his head dropping onto his chest. “You have good hands,” he murmured. “Big hands.” There was a moment’s pause before he added quietly, “Makes me want to know if the old saying is true.” He peered at Leo through dark blond lashes. “You know, big hands, big… feet.” He gave Leo an impish grin before lowering his gaze.
Leo froze. He withdrew his hands and stood. “You’re fine. And if you’re happy with how the scene went….” He let his words trail off as he stared at Gabe, as if daring him to find fault. Again.
Gabe rose to his feet, gazing up at him, making no attempt to hide his cheeky grin. “Well, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but I guess there’s always the next time.” He chuckled.
That was it. Straw, meet the camel’s back.
Leo grabbed Gabe’s chin and forced his head back, making the submissive gasp. “I think I managed to grasp your… disappointment with how the scene went, but you know what? I was the one running the scene. You take what I give you.”
Gabe swallowed and then ran his tongue over his lips. “And if I wanted you to give me a kiss?” His voice was husky.
Leo didn’t trust himself to reply. He released Gabe and strode off in the direction of the office. Once inside the sanctuary, he expelled his breath in a long push of air.
“That bad?” Thomas asked from his chair.
“You have no idea,” Leo growled.
Thomas regarded him for a moment. “Enlighten me,” he said simply.
Leo began to pace. “The first swat with the whip—the first, okay?—he said, ‘Maybe you should raise your hand a bit higher, and then bring it down faster so I can actually feel it next time.’”
Thomas bit his lip. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, he fucking did,” Leo gritted out. “Then the little shit said, ‘Are you sure you’ve done this before?’”
Thomas smothered a snicker. “Sorry. Please, go on.”