If Ben hadn’t known that Parker was trans, he never would have believed it. It wasn’t just his muscular arms and deep voice, though. His body language communicated clearly that he was all man and ready to take charge.
That was the funny thing for Ben. Back in college, it had taken him awhile to figure out what he was interested in. But once he’d had the chance to explore a bit and see what worked, he was pretty sure that he had a type: bratty subs.
When he met Parker, who flirted outrageously and knowingly pushed his buttons, he thought that he’d found exactly that.
He couldn’t have been more surprised when he saw Parker in the club a few weeks later, competently yielding a whip on a very blissed out sub. He’d checked around discreetly and found that, no, Parker was not a switch.
That should have been the end of things for Ben. But there was just something about Parker that he couldn’t let go.
Ben volunteered with Parker, and they saw each other at the club, at first they just gave each other the classic nod, one Dom to another. Then they’d fallen into a group of friends, and even checked out guys together.
It had become a bit of a competition sometimes, seeing who would score first each evening, or perhaps who could entice a sub that they both had their eyes on.
They’d shared scenes before, but it was always something they could play off as being incidental. Group scenes, or something where a friend asked them both to participate, like Eric had last month.
Which did nothing to explain why Ben felt the need to jerk off later at the memory of Parker exercising his sexy brand of control.
For a while, Ben had wondered if he wanted to be the recipient of that control. But after some soul searching, he concluded that he still wasn’t wired that way.
He’d tried subbing a few times when he was training as a Dom so that he would know what it felt like. It had been informative, but definitely not for him. So, if he wouldn’t switch and Parker wouldn’t switch, that basically left them with vanilla sex.
Ben had considered it, seriously considered it, because the chemistry was so good. But in the long run knew it would be unsatisfying and disappointing for both of them.
Instead, sexual tension filled the air.
Tonight, they were going out for drinks, probably at Whirlwind. They met up with their crowd of friends there once or twice a week, but it was still his favorite choice when it was just the two of them. It was a queer bar and he loved the low key, casual vibe.
Ben tapped his watch pointedly. Naturally, Parker’s reply was to grin as he switched the phone to the other ear and pushed his precariously poised chair back even further.
Ben’s heart pounded and he felt his muscles bunch as they prepared to catch the chair. Not that he could when Parker was a dozen feet away, behind a desk and a glass wall.
Fucking Parker. He knew that it bothered Ben, and he did it anyway just to needle him. In fact, Ben was pretty sure that he added an extra ten degrees to the angle just for him.
Ben made absolutely sure that he didn’t move a muscle or give away anything with his face.
If Parker broke his head, he’d say I told you so. Probably after kicking his ass and/or buzzing around him with an ice pack. But until then he wasn’t going to take the bait. Fucking Parker.
He made a casual wave and turned to go. It was a total power play. I’m not waiting around while you play your stupid games.
Of course, it could backfire. Parker might take him seriously and not come out to Whirlwind tonight. Or he could take a stupidly long time just to make Ben wait. He’d probably blown it, now.
He was normally so cool and collected, but there was something about Parker that just left him off balance. Not that he would ever, ever let the other man know.
He walked slowly to his car. He’d give Parker twenty minutes to wrap up the call and then decide whether to head to Whirlwind or just go home. His house was way out on the edge of town, though, so he’d probably hit up Whirlwind on the way.
There was the possibility that Parker actually needed to finish up something important, and leaving now would be a dick move. He really needed to slow down and think more when Parker was around. He felt like he was always reacting—which put his inner Dom on edge.
Yeah, he needed to relax a bit. The legal clinic was located in the same building as three other queer organizations, and there was a little rock garden on the side. He decided that hanging out there would be a better way to pass the time.
And not look like he was so pathetic.
It was usually deserted, but he’d met all sorts of interesting people there, too.
The rock garden was quiet when he entered, and he realized that he hadn’t taken the time to just sit for a while. He allowed his eyes to rest on the single small tree, asymmetrically placed to draw the eye through the winding paths on the ground.
When his phone rang, he considered not answering it. The call had almost gone to voicemail when he reluctantly drew it from his pocket and found his best friend on the line.
“Angel! I haven’t heard from you in forever.” He didn’t try to hide the warmth in his voice. Angelina was like a sister to him.
“I quit, Ben.” She sounded exhausted.
He had no idea what she was talking about. “Good choice. I support you. Want to talk about it?”
“Ugh. Tamika. She was after my money. You were right.”
Angel was one of the most forthright people Ben knew. It sucked that she kept falling for girls that were all the same type: they claimed they wanted a Mommy Domme, but actually wanted a sugar mama and the opportunity to blow all of her money.
“Sorry, babe. I wish I were wrong.”
“I know. I just… aaaugh!”
“I hear you, sister.” Ben thought back through all their years together, first as the only two queer, black kids at their pretentious boy’s boarding school, then toughing it out through law school and making it through the grueling hours of their early careers. They’d been there for each other every step of the way.
“I’m not dating again, Ben.”
They both knew that was a lie. “It sounds like you need a break. But your baby girl is out there somewhere.”
Angel sighed. For a while there was silence on the line.
“Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”
“Dating?” Ben couldn’t help but think of Parker. The idea of dating him was laughable. Which didn’t explain at all why he couldn’t get the exasperatingly sexy man off his mind.
He found himself wanting to tell her about Parker, which was new. He didn’t think he’d told her about anyone he was interested in for more than a fling since college. But what the hell would he tell her?
He didn’t know himself.
“Dating. Work. Life.”
Alright, it sounded like this wasn’t the best time to bring up his own relationships, or lack thereof. He focused all his attention on her.
“Like, we worked so hard to prove ourselves,” she continued, “and for what?”
If he’d worked hard, she’d worked twice as hard, being a transwoman as well as black. They’d both made partner last year, but he was a big fish in a small pond out here and she’d clawed her way to the top in a major international firm in NYC.
He knew exactly what she was talking about, though. You couldn’t ever work hard enough that some straight, white, cis dude couldn’t waltz right in and take it out of your hands.
“Say the word and I’ve got a position for you out here.”
“You know, I’m really thinking about it.”
Their conversation segued from there into the other small parts of their lives. Ben made a commitment to calling Angel more often. In fact, he put it on his calendar with a biweekly schedule.
She dropped off the phone when Tamika came home and apparently started into a fight almost immediately. He didn’t want to hear their relationship imploding.
Instead, he sent her the job description for the opening at his f
irm. Then some links to a few gorgeous homes in the neighborhood which, even at the top of the local market, had to be less than what she was paying for a two-bedroom now.
A few minutes later, Parker’s messy hair poked around the corner, followed by the rest of him.
Ben looked at him with a new light. Angel’s doomed love life should have driven him away from any thoughts of relationships, but it had actually started him thinking. There couldn’t ever be anything between them, though.
Could there?
He was insane. And he hopefully hadn’t been staring at Parker for too long without saying anything.
As usual, he deflected by giving Parker a hard time. “Did you seriously just peek around the corner?”
“Yep!” Parker sounded quite pleased with himself. “No reason to take the extra steps if you weren’t there.”
Sometimes Parker was like a child. A freakishly smart child. Taking in Parker’s canvas shoes and the way he wore his tailored suit jacket like it was a T-shirt, the resemblance to Dr. Who was alarming.
The way that he hopped from playful whiz kid to aggressive lawyer or commanding Dom without any warning only sealed the deal.
Unfortunately, Parker hadn’t watched the show, and now he refused to. Though Ben quietly wondered if he’d watched a few episodes and was just denying it on principle now.
He gave Parker a disapproving frown to hide the tingling glow that he felt in his presence. He couldn’t wait to see what their evening had in store.
Chapter 2
Dakota
Dakota stretched their arms overhead, enjoying the tinkling sound of their earrings and the stretch of their suit jacket over their shoulders. It was so fucking good being back in the States. Not just because they could speak without having to translate everything in their head first. It was like they could breathe again.
They were one of the lucky ones who had been born intersex and not surgically and hormonally adjusted since birth to fit someone else’s ideals.
For their first night in the city that was going to be home for the next five years, they’d discovered a bar that would supposedly support them and dressed to the nines. Their body was a masterpiece of interspersed masculine and feminine clothing, and they were rocking it.
The bar, too, had lived up to its reputation so far. It was early in the evening, so Whirlwind was almost empty. One corner held a dyke family with two kids watching a baseball game and eating chicken strips and fries. Near the door two graying gentlemen were chatting about the good old days. They didn’t think the men were a couple. They’d nodded politely when Dakota came in.
Charlie, the owner and bartender, was an authentic bull dagger in army pants and a men’s flannel shirt. She’d chatted with Dakota while they sipped their beer, advising them on the best thrift stores and night spots, interspersed with stories about the bricks that had been thrown through the window when the place first opened. She was awesome.
Dakota felt like they were feeding on the queer energy of the place like they were starving.
Charlie hadn’t blinked when they’d asked about BDSM clubs. She said she didn’t go herself, but had plenty of gossip on the two establishments. One was flashy and full of pretty boys. The other one, which happened to be around the corner, was for folks who’d gotten over themselves. Not that she was judging, of course.
Dakota would have loved to lose themselves in a scene tonight, but they weren’t looking for flashy and it sounded like the other one had an application process—as it should.
Maybe they could order a burger here, see if they could get a good bet going on a game of darts, and then go out dancing later. There had to be someone, somewhere who could give them a hard pounding.
They’d joked about taking it on as a challenge for the evening, but they’d already planned not to come back to their new apartment tonight unless they had somebody with them.
The door squeaked behind them and they looked up to the mirror behind the bar.
Yum. The guy who came in was smoking hot. Tall, mahogany-skinned, with a close-shaved head and a power suit tailored to hug his solid muscles. He walked with that air of command that always made Dakota weak in their knees.
He strode purposefully to a table without looking around, then pulled out his phone to text. A moment later the door opened again, and his head perked up. He nodded briefly to the older man who came in and settled down with the guys reminiscing at the front, then went back to his text.
It figured that someone so sexy and commanding would be waiting for someone. Dakota turned back to Charlie to continue their conversation.
Charlie raised one eyebrow about their wandering eyes, but didn’t say a word.
When the door opened again, naturally they looked up. The new guy launched into the room and made a beeline for the man Dakota had been watching earlier. His steps were full of energy, like he was ready to run a marathon.
Charlie said something about getting another keg from the basement and Dakota nodded absently. They were too curious about the couple they were spying on.
The new guy flung his jacket casually over a chair, so that one sleeve dragged on the floor. It should have looked sloppy, but it came off as more too cool for school.
His hair was rumpled in a sexy way that probably actually did take him three seconds, even if it would take others hours to achieve. It said that he couldn’t be fucked to comb it and he knew how hot that was.
Dakota swept their eyes down the man through the mirror. His skin was pale, but freckled from the sun. They’d bet it was even lighter a bit lower down. He was short but muscular, like a coiled spring.
His eyes were a sparkling green and his goatee was cute. Hot, but probably too twinky to be interested in what Dakota was looking for. Not that they were looking.
Then, he sat down, his elbows on the table, and leveled the other man with a challenging stare. His body was all business now, commanding in tone and presence.
Holy fuck.
The two men stared each other down, eyes challenging and voices at a low growl. It wasn’t anger, though. Dakota could almost see the sparks flying between them. And wouldn’t they just love to catch fire in the middle.
Finally, the taller man yielded and stood up. Dakota hadn’t been expecting that at all.
The shorter one grinned cockily and leaned back on one leg of his chair. The taller one tensed for a second, but didn’t speak. It looked like the move was designed to piss him off.
Dakota had certainly played games like that before, angling for a good spanking, but this wasn’t quite that. The one he’d dismissed as a twink was fully in command, surveying his dominion from his risky perch. He probably played all sorts of extreme sports and lived on adrenaline. It looked like he liked to win.
The taller one in the exquisitely tailored suit stalked over to the bar, stopping a foot or so from Dakota.
“Charlie’s getting another keg from the basement,” Dakota mentioned helpfully.
“Thanks.” His voice was deep and solid, but he was looking at the door behind the bar.
Then, he turned to look at Dakota and kept on looking. No, not looking. Undressing. Eye fucking. Oh, sweet Lord, yes, please.
Dakota felt hot and cold, deliciously objectified and desired. Most people weren’t into their particular brand of non-binary fabulousness, but this guy was eating it up. Was it possible that they’d read the situation all wrong?
“What’s your name?”
It took a moment to remember. Another moment to make it flirty instead of just desperate. “Dakota. They/them pronouns.”
They looked up from under their eyelashes. Was that too much? The flirtation or the pronouns could throw someone off.
“I’m Ben. He/him. You new here?” The pronoun thing shouldn’t have been a test, but they already felt a weight lifted from their shoulders when Ben passed.
Ben moved in closer and Dakota shivered. Now they just needed to do a bit of small talk, a bit of flirting. Dakota was r
eady for anything that might arise, but it was better to chat a bit first.
Among other things, unless it was going to be a quickie in a dimly lit room, they needed to mention the whole intersex thing. Most people who were interested in their outer package were happy enough with what was under their skirt, but it wasn’t worth taking the risk.
Their night was suddenly getting a lot more interesting. “Just arrived yesterday. My brain thinks it’s the middle of the night.”
“Where’d you fly in from?”
“Senegal. I was doing health outreach in the Peace Corps. I’m gonna miss the sunshine and some good friends, but I’m sooooo glad to be back in the States.”
“My mother’s from Sierra Leone, but I haven’t been back since I was a kid. What did you miss about the States?”
Dakota grinned. The conversation was going well, and they could get in that important tidbit without making it sound too contrived. “Being me. I spent the past two years pretending to be a man,” they gave a dramatic shudder, “around everyone except a couple of Corps members.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “If being a man was so frustrating, how do you prefer to identify?” He wasn’t being judgmental or pushy, just moving the conversation along.
“Intersex and genderqueer, baby. A little bit of something for everyone.”
Ben’s laugh was rich and full. He leaned in a bit closer, towering over Dakota even on the bar stool and sending a shiver down their spine. “Were you planning on sharing tonight?”
“I suppose I could be persuaded… but what about your friend over there?”
Dakota used the mirror again. The other guy was still tipped back on one leg of the chair, his position lazy and confident, but his eyes were trained on the two of them like a predator.
“You mean Parker? Oh, he’s not going to get a piece of you. I saw you first.”
That was definitely not what Dakota had been expecting. They felt a bit like a piece of meat, but it was hot as fuck.
The thought was interrupted by Charlie’s throaty voice. “What can I get for you?”
“A pitcher of whatever Dakota’s drinking.”
Now, that was interesting. Ben’s pick-up line hadn’t been subtle at all, nor had his claim. But a pitcher was enough for a table, or a longer evening. Were they going to be hanging out with this Parker guy anyway?
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