What He Needs (Desires Book 1)

by E. M. Denning

  “What the hell, Alan? Your club is your life.”

  Alan shook his head. “It was in the beginning. I must admit, I loved turning the place around and making it great again. That first month that we turned a profit, that was the best feeling of my life. But I never really wanted the club in the first place. It wasn’t what I wanted then and it’s not really what I want now.”

  Steve exhaled and leaned back in his chair. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the past two minutes. “What do you plan to do instead?”

  Alan could only shrug. “I don’t know, but I’m okay with not knowing.”

  Alan was surprised to see a slow, sly, smile spread across Steve’s face. He leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees. “Sell the club to me.”

  Alan’s eyebrows shot up. “You?”

  Steve nodded. “Me. I’ve been after you for years to renovate the place and put in a kitchen. Think of how long you could get people to stay if they didn’t have to leave to eat. It would be a huge boost.”

  Alan raked his hand through his hair. “I know, but I didn’t ever really have the desire to run a restaurant.” Before Steve could interject he shot him a pointed look. “And you know you and I would never work well together. We’re great friends and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “So sell me the club. I’ll do it myself.”

  “And that wouldn’t be too taxing, having to run the restaurant down the street and this place?”

  Steve shrugged. “I can roll both business into one brand. Sell the same food here that I do there. I always said The Dragon’s Den was a good name for a kink club, so when I buy, I’ll rebrand. I can bring staff here that’s already trained from the restaurant. It’ll be seamless. You have the second floor you never use, I can renovate that into the private playrooms, and the ones on the main floor can be converted to a kitchen. If I do the upstairs reno first, business can continue to chug along as usual and no profits will be lost during the renovations.”

  Alan took a deep breath. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m sure. I’d be stupid not to do this. When you bought this place, it was a shit hole money pit and you turned it around. I know you had fun with it, but let’s face it, Alan, I’m not shocked that you’re selling it, not after thinking about it. You’re bored here. The challenge is gone. I remember the passion you had during those first years as you struggled to turn it around, and then when it started to succeed you were over the moon. But now it’s doing well on its own and you’re bored.”

  God yes. Alan thought. Steve was right. He was bored. The thrill was gone. When he’d first bought the club, it had been in dire straights, but Mike convinced him that they could turn it around. Mike, as it turned out, wasn’t as enthusiastic about the actual business end of the business and wanted it more for a private playground, but Alan had thrown himself into it. The thrill of watching it evolve and improve and attracting new members had kept him going for years.

  Alan grinned. “Have your lawyers call my lawyers and we’ll get this going.”

  Steve seemed shocked. “Just like that?”

  Alan nodded as he got to his feet. “I told you, Steve, I’m done doing things that don’t make me happy, and that includes owning this place.” He walked around his desk and pulled Steve up into a hug.

  Steve was stiff at first, then laughed and threw his arms around Alan. “You’re a crazy motherfucker you know that right. You take one look at this kid and suddenly you’re handing him a contract and selling your business.”

  Alan stiffened in Steve’s embrace and he must have felt it because he suddenly gripped Alan by the biceps and held him at arms length. “Listen to me, Alan. We have been friends a long damned time and I know you’re probably expecting me to try and talk you out of this, or maybe you’re waiting for me to list all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but fuck, Alan, I say go for it.”

  Alan wondered if he had been waiting for Steve to resist his decisions, or at least offer an argument against any of it, because when Steve didn’t, Alan felt relieved. Steve grinned and tugged Alan into another hug.

  “I want you to be happy.”

  Alan pulled out of the hug and grinned at Steve. “I think I am.” His brow furrowed. “Is that stupid? I…”

  Steve stuck his hand out and covered Alan’s mouth. “No. You’re not going to stand here and verbal-diarrhea all your doubts and shit so I can pat your back and dry your tears and tell you that you’re wrong, because we both know you’re being a fucking moron. You like the kid. So what if you haven’t know him very long. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

  Alan pulled Steve’s hand off his mouth and watched as Steve wiped it on his pants. “Let me guess. Not since Mike.”

  Steve looked up at Alan and raised an eyebrow. “Nope. You were never this happy with Mike. Mike exhausted you. He pushed you about everything and I know I saw the kid for all of five seconds, but I don’t think he’d ever push you. Encourage yes, browbeat…not a chance.”

  Alan leaned against the edge of his desk. “You think Mike pushed me?”

  Steve rolled his eyes. “Please, Alan, use your brain. The club was his idea. The big fancy house you had to buy his half of was his idea. You giving him a stack of cash for the club and the house when you split was his idea. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. He was the brattiest fucking sub I’d ever seen and for the life of me I never could figure out how the two of you ended up together. You don’t like the brats, they wear on your patience, and now it’s worse now because they all remind you of Mike.” Steve put a hand on Alan’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Have your lawyers call my lawyers and they can get the ball rolling. In the meantime, go find that sweet new toy of yours and play with him for a while.”

  Steve shot Alan another smile and walked out of his office and Alan dropped into his chair and closed his eyes. For a minute he wondered if he was having some sort of strangely early midlife crisis. First, he meets a sweet young man who he takes on as his boyfriend and his sub. Next, he agreed to sell his business to his best friend. The craziest thing of all, Alan realized as he scrubbed his face with his hands, was that none of it felt all that insane.

  Anyone on the outside looking in might think that he’d lost his mind, but for the first time in a long time, Alan wanted something. He wanted Craig, and not for a little while. He wanted a life with him. The boy was already under his skin and etched into his bones and he’d sooner cut off one of his own limbs than let the man slip through his fingers.

  Alan left work early and went home. He’d wished that he’d tried to convince Craig to come back to his place after work. At least then he’d have something to do. He could cook dinner for them both, instead of making a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich for himself. They could’ve spent the evening curled up under a blanket watching a movie, or maybe they’d go for a walk, or take a bath together. He knew it was probably stupid to miss someone so much who he barely even knew, but he did, and he missed getting to know him.

  It was too early for dinner yet, so Alan settled down in front of the TV, not that there was anything good on. Alan had just finished flicking through the channels a second time when his phone vibrated on the coffee table. Alan glanced at the name on the screen, then at the clock. Craig wasn’t due to be off work for another two hours, yet he’d just texted him. Alan grinned as he read the text.

  Can I come by after work?

  Alan took a breath and tried to steady his trembling hands so he could respond.

  Of course. I’ll cook us dinner. Sound good? Alan sent the text as he headed for the kitchen. He wanted to make something nice for Craig, something simple, but delicious. Alan was taking stock of the pantry when Craig’s response came.

  Sounds fantastic. See you soon.

  Alan rummaged in the fridge and gathered the ingredients to make his favorite homemade baked macaroni and cheese. With two hours until Craig was off work, he had plenty
of time to get it assembled and into the oven.

  He flicked the radio on and got to work chopping the bacon. He was dumping the pasta in the boiling water before he realized that he had been grinning, and dancing, and completely enjoying himself in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. The idea of making a nice dinner for Craig had instantly thrilled him. He wanted to please Craig, to look after him if he had a bad day or to enjoy his company if he had a good day. He wanted to be a good Daddy for his boy.

  Alan grinned at that thought. His boy. When he’d first thought of offering Craig a contract, never did he imagine that Craig would want that. It made sense though. He wasn’t into the hardcore stuff. He wanted someone to be in charge and to look after him and Alan wanted someone to take care of, someone he could really connect with. Alan smiled. He felt like he’d found that with Craig. A balance of real life and the lifestyle with someone who would let him be as clingy and doting as he wanted to be.

  Alan had the timing down to a science. By the time the cheese sauce was ready, the noodles could be drained, the two were mixed, smothered in yet more cheese and he stuffed it in the oven on a low temperature. He’d turn it up a little before Craig got there to make sure the cheese thoroughly melted.

  When his doorbell rang shortly after six, Alan had just climbed out of the shower. He tugged his pants on and slid into his shirt before he answered the door.

  Craig stood on the doorstep, his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets. “Hey.”

  “Hey you, come in.” Alan stepped to the side and Craig hurried past him. “I thought you were off at six?”

  “I was. I keep a change of clothes at work so I came straight over.” He shrugged out of his jacket and Alan saw the uncertainty in his eyes. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay.” Alan took his coat and hung it in the closet. “Do you want something to drink? I can make you a tea or a coffee before I throw the salad together.”

  “Tea thanks. I’ve had my fill of coffee for the day.”

  Craig slid into his stool—in Alan’s mind that was his spot now and it would always be his spot. Alan got the tea going and started preparing the salad. Craig was quiet and seemed slightly preoccupied.

  “How was work?”

  Craig huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Uncle Hank showed up today. He said his meetings wrapped up early, but he only said that because he thinks I’m too dumb to figure it out.”

  Alan caught his eye and raised an eyebrow.

  “He came back early to check on me, which is stupid, he could’ve called. Security told him about the Tim incident and he wanted to touch base with me.”

  Alan focused on chopping the cucumber. “That doesn’t sound so terrible, so what are you really upset about?”

  There was a long silence, Alan had quickly grown accustomed to that, to Craig needing time to gather his thoughts. Alan felt no need to hurry the conversation along, he could talk, or not talk to Craig all night long. All that mattered was that Craig was here and Alan got to look after him.

  “He wants to meet you.”

  “That doesn’t sound so terrible.” Alan said in what he hoped was his most reassuring voice. “You even offered to introduce us, eventually, just the other day. What changed to make you nervous?”

  “He met Tim and he hated Tim. I don’t want him to hate you.”

  Alan frowned and placed his hands on the counter. “Will his opinion of me affect yours?”

  Craig shook his head. “Of course not.”

  Alan shrugged a shoulder. This was the first time felt the difference in their ages. He wanted to be patient with Craig’s uncertainty, but it had been so many years since he’d sought out anyone’s approval that he found Craig’s desperation hard to relate to. “Then I don’t give a shit. Let him hate me.”

  “Tim hated that Uncle Hank hated him. Of course, my uncle never came out and said as much to him, but Tim could tell, you know. I just…” Craig took a deep breath and finally forced himself to look at Alan instead of his own fidgeting fingers. “I want this to be different. I want everything about us to be nothing like it was with Tim and part of that is that Uncle Hank has to like you.”

  Alan felt for him, he really did. It had to be hell to be so totally devastated by a relationship that it left you quivering and questioning everything about the next one. “I could tell you that I’m not Tim until I’m blue in the face, but you’re not going to listen to that.” Alan gave the salad a quick toss and delivered it to the dining room table. He didn’t want to be angry with Craig, but unless he understood, and fast, that he wasn’t Tim and certainly wasn’t going to do the things to Craig that Tim had done, Alan felt little hope that they could make this work in the long run. Alan needed to show Craig that he was different.

  “I’ll get the table set if you’d like a minute to wash up.” Alan breezed past Craig who slowly climbed off the stool and disappeared down the hallway. Alan took a deep breath and set the table while Craig washed up. He was putting the dish of baked macaroni on the dining room table when Craig appeared in the doorway.

  Alan turned around and Craig’s head was lowered, his hands were stuffed in his pockets, Alan guessed it was to keep himself from fidgeting. “Dinner’s ready. Come eat.” Alan extended his hand to Craig, but he didn’t take it. Instead he raised his head and looked at Alan with glassy eyes.

  “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

  And the bottom dropped out of Alan’s heart. What was he going to do with this man? This poor, sweet man whose only crime had been loving the wrong man. Loving Tim had devastated Craig. It left him shaken to the core, even now. Though he was determined to move on, he couldn't shake the demons that Tim left behind. Alan strode over to Craig and gathered him in his arms and cradled him against his chest.

  “I’m not mad at you, love, never, not for having feelings. You’re allowed to feel however you need too and I’ll never be angry with you for it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Craig

  Craig hated feeling like this, like he wasn’t enough. Wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t brave enough. Wasn’t over Tim enough. Maybe he was over Tim, but there were things related to Tim that he hadn't gotten over.

  But Alan tugged him close and Craig rested his head on Alan’s chest and breathed him in and maybe, just maybe, he would be enough for Alan. He’d let all his quivering insecurities hang out and instead of scoffing at him or making him feel like less, Alan tugged him close and held him and told him he had the right to feel whatever emotions he was feeling. In that moment Craig believed that this could be different—was different—more different and more real than anything he’d ever felt.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then one more because Alan smelled so fucking good, so fresh and clean that Craig wanted to climb into his lap and hold him and kiss him and do things to him that make them both messy and dishevelled. Instead, he looked up at Alan and smiled. “Next time I get stuck in my head I’m going to demand that you hug me.” Craig slid his arms around Alan and raised himself up on his tiptoes. Alan met him halfway and they stood in the dining room, kissing until the food was cool enough to eat.

  Craig loved kissing Alan. He loved that Alan was taller than him and he loved the way Alan held him tight with his large, powerful hands. He loved it when Alan’s cheeks were smooth and freshly shaved and he loved kissing him when they had stubble that scratched at his skin. He loved the softness of his mouth and the way the intensity lit up every synapse in Craig’s brain. In the past, kissing had been a means to an end, but kissing Alan could easily be a main event.

  When the kiss came to an end Alan’s arms were still wrapped around him and Craig sighed happily.

  “Better?” Alan asked before planting a gentle kiss on Craig’s forehead.

  “Yeah. I am.” The amount of conviction that came out in Craig’s voice shocked himself a little. He was feeling better. Alan was so calm about everything and so matter of fact that it made it easy fo
r Craig to believe him. Everything would be okay no matter what his uncle thought of Alan. “I’m starving.”

  Craig and Alan sat down to eat and for a few minutes Craig stayed quiet and let himself soak in the experience of eating with someone at a table like an adult. With Tim, they often ate in front of the television, or standing in the kitchen. Tim never took him out to eat and he certainly didn’t cook for him. Then, when it was just him, he’d often grab a bite in the restaurant at the hotel, standing up in the corner or he’d take it to the break room and eat on one of the sofas. It didn't make sense, but it made him feel like him and Alan were as serious as they claimed to be.

  “How was work?” Craig asked.

  Alan shrugged a shoulder. “I’m selling the club to Steve.”

  He was completely nonchalant, as if he’d said that he got his car washed or took the trash out.

  “Really? Isn’t that a bit…sudden?” Craig stared at Alan and he seemed completely calm about it, as if it were any other decision like choosing a new fabric softener instead of a new career.

  Alan took a drink of water and his eyebrow raised slightly. “Not really, I guess. I knew I was tired of the club, the challenge of turning it around was thrilling and exciting and I genuinely loved it, but it’s time to move on. Steve wants to renovate the unused space upstairs and build a kitchen downstairs. He’s convinced having a restaurant attached will be a huge draw and he’s probably right. He’s brought it up before, but kitchens and restaurants aren’t my thing.”

  “If that’s what you want, then I’m happy for you. Any ideas on what you’re going to do once the sale is final?”

  Alan shook his head. “Not really, but I have money saved. I won’t need to worry about finding something different right away.”

  Craig wanted to be more enthusiastic for Alan. He wasn’t happy at the club anymore and finding a new and exciting career was clearly important to him. The problem was that Craig didn’t know what kind of career Alan would want. What if he wanted to do something that would take him away from here? What if he had to travel? Craig hated the idea of staying behind while Alan went away on business.