by Sara Brookes
“Maybe once I get my head back on straight, but right now—no. This is all too fresh right now.”
“Understandable, given these circumstances. But it is something to think about for a later point in time.” He didn’t want to see Alex let the current situation sway him if that was the direction his life took. Patrick advocated the need to fulfill your desires, especially if no one got hurt in the process. “Whenever you’re ready, if that’s what you really decide you want to explore, let me know. I can get more information about the club for you.” Elena frequented the club when she didn’t want the privacy of the warehouse. She’d be more than willing to do a favor for him.
Alex smiled, pushing away his empty plate “You know, I should be the one saying this sort of stuff to you. Be the one giving the brotherly advice and looking after you. Not the other way around.”
“Sometimes older doesn’t necessarily mean wiser.”
The jab caused Alex to smirk. “I envy you, Patrick. You’ve always known about yourself and what you wanted. And yet I condemned you for exactly what I’m looking for now. Murphy’s-fucking-law.”
“That’s because life is never simple.” He wished it had been because he could have coasted through. For a long time, after the incident with his shoulder, he’d lived in denial. Luckily, he’d taken his own advice and had given the world the great big middle finger. No one got hurt and it had always been consensual with his partners.
Do it if it feels good.
Maybe it was a hedonistic approach, but so far, it hadn’t failed him.
“Getting where I am now hasn’t been an easy journey, but one I don’t regret a bit. Especially now.” The image of Allison formed in his mind, reminding him he needed to get back to the store. Prepping the shop now for his morning shift would leave the rest of his night free to do as he pleased. And he wanted to do Allison.
He signaled they should leave, but his brother stopped him with a firm hand on his forearm. “Thanks. For everything, I mean. For making me talk about this, because I’ve been keeping it bottled up. Most of all for opening the shop with me, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Patrick smiled as he scooped up his dirty plate. “Of course you couldn’t.”
Behind the counter at Perfect Shot hours later, Patrick wasn’t surprised to find one of his friends on the other side. “Hey, Ryan, what can I get for you?”
“A cup of humble pie?”
Patrick laughed, shaking his head. “Mitchie, can you take over for a few minutes?” He prepped two mugs of the house blend before gesturing to a quiet corner with his elbow. He dropped into a chair, groaning as he stretched his tired legs. It seemed he’d been on his feet nonstop since coming in this morning. His only break had been when he’d shared lunch with Alex. “Everything all right?”
Ryan scratched at the thick covering of blond hair that covered most of the lower half of his face. “I just stopped by to apologize for my behavior the other night. For what I said about Allison. Stress has been getting the better of me lately and I…just shouldn’t have said anything. Especially since I was making assumptions.”
“Well, this is a step. You have a right to your opinion.”
“I know.” Ryan shifted, gulping half of the coffee Patrick had prepared. “But that was a bit above and beyond. New boat isn’t going well and Dade’s being…well, himself. He’s got his own problems.”
If Dade was wrapped up in his own life, it meant there were very few people Ryan had to talk to. “Still haven’t taken a sub or gone back to the club, have you?”
Ryan’s heavy sigh told Patrick he’d been correct. “Four years and counting. Haven’t really felt the need.”
“There’s always a need, whether or not you think so.”
“How are things with you?”
Patrick grimaced at the deliberate brush-off. “Ryan, you’re hiding. From yourself and your past—”
Ryan held up a hand. “Look, I came to apologize. I did. I didn’t come to talk about me or what I do or don’t need. Now, how are you and the girl working out?”
Patrick frowned. If Ryan continued to withdraw this way, there’d be nothing left of him or his life. But he’d respect his friend’s wishes. “Very well. She’s taken to submission better than I could have ever hoped for. I’m looking forward to pushing her and myself.”
“You always had the patience to show someone exactly what they wanted. Once you got your head out of your ass and realized being a Dominant wasn’t about sex at least.”
“So do you.” They stared at each other for a long moment.
Ryan’s blue eyes frosted as he stood. “Fact of the matter is, until I’m ready to move on, I have no business caring for someone else, much less being responsible for them as they’d deserve. So get over it, Conners. Just because you’re all googly-eyed in love doesn’t mean everyone else has to be. Why don’t you focus your need to fix people on someone else? Maybe Dade. He’s fucked up enough for both of us.”
Patrick continued to sit there long after Ryan stormed out. He’d get over it, he always had. This wasn’t the first time they’d butted heads and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. There were many things the two men had never seen eye to eye on. Ryan’s easy dismissal of his sex life was usually at the top of the list. He hated seeing his close friend shut himself away, but the fact of the matter remained, there was very little he could do about it if Ryan didn’t want to help himself.
A soft hand brushed against him, tickling the hairs on his forearm. Startled out of his musings, he looked up to find Allison dropping her bag to the floor. “Well, that was certainly an unruly customer. I can’t imagine anyone being that upset about your coffee or customer service.”
“That was Ryan.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “Oh. Everything okay?”
The terms “okay” and “Ryan” didn’t tend to mesh together well. Even before the tragedy that had changed his life. “I don’t know. He’s been through a lot. He lost his wife and son in an accident about five years ago. Went into a tailspin before deciding to shut himself away. Lives alone out past the edge of town. Keeps to himself most of the time.”
“And he closed himself off, let dust gather in his room at Sanctuary and you don’t agree.” Allison’s hand smoothed over his knee, drawing his attention to her fully.
“No. I don’t. But it’s not my life. I’ll give him a call later and smooth things over. He’ll be all right. Just needs someone to push…never mind. Not my business. Pretty certain you didn’t come here to hear about my friend’s problem. What does bring you in, besides my appealing personality?”
“Your hellaciously good coffee.”
“Charming tag line. Pretty sure most of the locals would balk if I slapped that on the exterior. Come on, I’ll fix something up for you. Then you can tell me what you dreamed about last night.”
Chapter Ten
The Southern Ridge Grille was packed to capacity, but Patrick had somehow been given a secluded table in the farthest corner of the main seating area. It backed to the knee-high wall separating the bar area from the dining room, which allowed them to feel alone despite the hustle and bustle.
“I like this place. Very atmospheric. Dark without being annoying.” Allison also marveled at the way the waitstaff pampered them both. They’d already been here twenty minutes and her water glass had barely slipped past the quarter mark. “Did you charm the staff to wait on us hand and foot?”
“I’m sure if I paid someone enough, I could arrange it. But no, I didn’t. Genevieve Lambert owns the restaurant. She’s the one responsible for those pastries you picked up the day you decided to play superhero.”
Allison blushed. Four weeks had passed since that day in the coffee house. Thirty-six days since she’d first laid eyes on Patrick and nearly twenty-four since his unbelievable phone call. Prior to that day, she never suspected her life would make this drastic of a turn, at least the sexual part of her life. Now she couldn’t imagine not
being with him or his warehouse.
It was her little secret. Both the clandestine room he kept for sexual indulgences and the man himself. She’d gone through the day more on edge than ever. She wanted him to tip her over that edge and more than anything she wanted to take him with her.
Since she realized how much he meant to her, constant thoughts about him occupied her time. While the vast majority of those thoughts were sexual in nature, large portions of them were not. Sometime during their shared cup of coffee earlier that day, she’d come to the conclusion she was desperately in love with Patrick Conners. But he’d never expressed a need for anything more than sex, so she would keep it to herself.
She could be grown-up about this whole arrangement. Sex could be just sex without anything else attached. He found what he needed in her and she discovered new things each and every time they were together. So she liked kinky things. So she got off on being tied up and bound. On being forced to orgasm over and over. There was nothing wrong with that.
Right?
She could handle it.
If nothing else, this was a journey where she had learned far more about herself than she ever thought possible. Her sexual desires had always been different. She’d been convinced no one would recognize the desires she didn’t understand or even comprehend spinning in her head.
But Patrick had.
Time had taken away the razor sharpness she had balanced on since awakening that morning. Now, instead of a quick release to ease the tension, she wanted a leisurely fuck that lasted all night. He had always anticipated her needs, so she was interested to see what he had in store.
The conversation through dinner was quiet and relatively uncomplicated with no mention of what his plans were for the night. When the waiter brought their after-dinner coffee, the conversation finally shifted to familiar territory.
“I’ve never taken the time to ask you about all of this. My assumption was that you find enjoyment in it, as you continue to be a very active participant. But I really need to know how you feel about my giving you orders and especially about the restraints.”
She thought it over for a few minutes before responding. “It’s odd in a way. Not at all what I expected.”
“How so?”
It was hard to articulate her feelings into words that made sense. However, she wanted to try, for him. For herself. She owed it to both of them. “I feel safe with the cuffs on. I was a bit surprised to discover that I’m not alone with what I like either.”
“Ugol’s Law.” He continued when she looked at him oddly. “No matter how odd or bizarre your kink, there’s always someone else out there who wants the same thing.”
She flushed at the thought of someone else finding as much pleasure as she had with a vibrator fit snugly inside her pussy.
He studied her for a moment, his blue eyes darkening as one corner of his mouth lifted. “You’d be surprised just how many of us there are. They are as wide and varied as there are people on the planet. Genevieve, the owner of this restaurant? She’s been going to Element Twenty-Six for years. See that man sitting in the corner?”
Her gaze followed where Patrick pointed. A rail-thin, balding man sat alone at a small table, reading the newspaper spread out before him. His long, thin fingers lifted a delicate china teacup to his mouth, where he blew at the steaming liquid.
“Let me guess? A skilled Dom with a preference for chemical play.”
“You’ve been studying. But no. His Mistress would probably find your choice very inventive though. I’ll have to mention it to her next time she comes into the store.”
Allison’s jaw went lax. “He’s a sub? Whoa. I thought you were kidding.”
“I never kid when it comes to matters of domination and submission.”
Those gorgeous blue eyes stared at her, telling her so much without saying a word. Wetness gathered between her legs, dampening her panties as heat streaked across her skin. The edge that had dulled through the course of the day sharpened again, melting her insides.
“Strangely enough, everything you’ve introduced me to is not what I expected to feel at all. I like the weight of your cuffs against my skin. Hell, given enough time, I could probably get off when simply wearing them and you doing nothing. Which is probably why I could never wear them all the time.”
She knew his mind now worked at the thought of her wearing the cuffs all the time. To her, the appeal of wearing nothing but the cuffs while he looked on for long stretches of time was tempting. A cold sweat erupted on her skin as her cheeks heated. “It would remind me of sex with you too much. I’d never get anything done if that were the case.”
He tapped his spoon on the table. “Well now, we can’t have that.”
“It’s bad enough that all I can think about is you. I can feel your cuffs on my wrists, chafing my skin while…” She trailed off, wondering if she could say exactly what she was thinking.
“Continue,” he urged.
“All I can think about is how I feel when you fuck me. Me. All I can think about is me. Not you.” He threw his head back and laughed. She’d just confessed a very personal thing and the ass had the nerve to laugh at her. “I’m glad you think this is so funny.”
He held up a hand, shifting in his chair to sit closer. “I draw pleasure from giving you pleasure, Allison. I don’t have to get off every time we play together, but I sure as shit will do my very best to ensure you do. I’ve been meaning to ask you something else.” He hesitated for a moment, sipping his coffee. “How would you feel about being collared?”
“You mean asphyxiation?” A series of warning bells sounded in the back of her brain. This was territory where she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out her safeword. She was certainly open to exploration, but she knew her limits.
“No, of course not. That would be one of my hard limits,” he said in a rush. “While I realize some people may find enjoyment in such a thing, I meant more of something to match your cuffs.”
She didn’t know how she knew, but he wasn’t being totally honest with her. He hadn’t outright lied, but the sound of need she detected in his voice told her a lot. “Something tells me you’ve already purchased one and it’s sitting at the warehouse waiting for you to take me there.”
“Very perceptive. Do you like that idea?” He didn’t confirm her suspicions, but he hadn’t denied them either.
“Yes I do,” she said quietly, as she hadn’t gotten used to voicing her desires yet. She actually found comfort in being with someone who always wanted to explore. It was one of the things she loved about him. He pulled it from her, making her want more than she’d ever wanted before.
He dropped the spoon and folded his hands together. “Yes. I recently purchased one for us.”
She noted the use of the word us in that statement. A warm glow came to life inside her. He truly meant it when he said this wasn’t all just about him—it was about them. Their likes and dislikes and about the journey they took together as they reached a place where they both found enjoyment. “You’re a complete gentleman, you know that, Patrick?”
His eyebrows winged up in surprise. “Is that bad?”
“No. No, I find I quite enjoy the contradiction you make.”
“That has to be the oddest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“At work, even on a date, you’re a gentleman. You hold doors for other people, even pull out their chairs. Then you ask them how their day went and care about the answer to that question, regardless if it actually interests you. Most men today completely forget about that sort of thing. To be perfectly honest, it’s probably our own doing. Women’s lib and all that ‘I can do it myself’ type of thing. From the outside, I would never have guessed you were into this kind of thing.”
His mouth twisted into a frown. “I’m still a gentleman in the bedroom.”
Shit. She’d offended him. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant the whole cuffs, collar and telling me what you want once we’re in the room at the wareh
ouse. Even when you had me secured to the cross. Once you step through the door, you become a completely different person. You’ve given yourself permission to let go. Truly be yourself in there.”
He was quiet for a long enough stretch of time that she wondered if she’d put her foot in her mouth. “So you’re saying outside of that room I’m not who I want to be?”
She hadn’t intended to explain this to him quite yet, but she’d already opened her mouth and there was no way to turn back now. “You are—in a way. But in that room, you are truly free. You have slipped before, however.”
“I have?”
She nodded, shooting him a wicked smile. “At the comic book store and again on the phone last night. I’m not complaining in the least, believe me. When we’re together, you…say things most people wouldn’t normally say out loud.”
“I see. Does that bother you?”
He was certainly full of questions tonight. Not that she blamed him, the foot she’d put into her mouth wasn’t all that tasty. “Not at all. I suspect it’ll wear off on me eventually. And the answer is no, by the way. I’ve never worn—or even thought about wearing—a collar. That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to. For you.”
His expression softened as his worry melted away. “You do know that just because I enjoy something, that doesn’t mean you have to.”
“And you know the same goes for me. There may be things I like that you may find don’t interest you.” She exhaled a slow breath. “The point is that neither of us will know until we try.”
Without a word, he tossed the napkin down on the table, pushed his chair back and stood. He offered his hand, her stomach jumping as she reached out to wind her fingers with his. He even kissed her fingertips as they walked through the busy restaurant.
She expected him to leave, but instead, he guided her to the restroom, walking right into the men’s side without care. She tugged on his hand in warning, but he simply turned and lifted a finger to his lips.
What the hell is he up to?