Exploration

by Quinn Ward

  “He’s not a kid. He’s twenty-eight,” I argued. My shoulders tensed as I realized this wasn’t going to be the only time I had this conversation with someone. The age difference was one of the reasons I tried to ignore my feelings for him, but even at the very beginning, I’d known it was pointless. There was something about his rich brown eyes that called to me. He always seemed a bit lost.

  “And you’re an old man.” Forty-one wasn’t that old. The server stopped by and we placed our orders without looking at the menu. Any time we went to lunch, we wound up at the same place and neither of us deviated from our regular meals. If one of the more experienced servers had been working, they would’ve put in the order a few minutes after Eli got here – because he was always running behind—and we’d already be eating. “You sure it’s a good idea to get mixed up with your roommate? What happens if shit goes south? I know you were doing fine before he moved in, but you’ve been less stressed about money for Ryan since you started splitting the bills.”

  “You’re such a cynic.” God love him, if it was a clear, sunny day, Eli would look for the single cloud in the sky. He was perpetually single because he always obsessed over how his relationships would fail while he was still in the honeymoon phase. “Believe me, I’ve thought about this more than I should have, but I don’t think it’s a mistake. As long as I don’t fuck up, I think chances are high this could be good for both of us.”

  “And what makes you think you’ll be the one to make a mistake? Isn’t it just as likely he realizes what an old fart you are and goes out to find someone his own age? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him in the bar more than a few times, and he always has guys drooling over him.” That pain in my gut was probably a knife twisting. It felt like a betrayal to not tell Eli that I’d found the guy who was trading blow jobs for cash in the back room, but it would’ve felt just as wrong to rat out Frankie. He wasn’t a hooker trying to make a living. He was a man who needed a healthier outlet, and I was enjoying providing that for him.

  “Again… cynic. Yes, he’s a good-looking man. Yes, he’s younger than me. But neither of those are reasons we’re doomed to break up.”

  Eli held up his hands in surrender. “Chill. Man, you must really be into Frankie if you’re getting this worked up. You know I’m just being me.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” I admitted. “And I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but this isn’t something I rushed into with my eyes closed. I know all the risks, but there’s something about him I can’t ignore.”

  “Probably that bubble butt he rocks,” Eli quipped. Now that I’d admitted to trying to get something started with Frankie, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Eli scoping him out. My friend burst out laughing. “Man, you should see the look on your face. If I didn’t know you couldn’t hurt a fly, I’d be seriously worried you were about to knock me on my ass.”

  “Still might,” I grumbled.

  The server dropped off our meals and we tucked in. The reprieve was welcome, but it would be short-lived. Eli hadn’t finished chewing the last bite of his turkey wrap when he tossed me head-first into the reason I wanted to talk to him before tonight. “Okay, so all kidding aside, why do you think you’re going to be the one to push him away instead of the other way around?”

  “I already messed up once,” I told him. My stomach churned as the image of Frankie upset replayed through my mind.

  “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’ve made it out to be,” he reassured me. And he was right, but that didn’t make me feel better. “Tell me what you did so I can tell you you’re being ridiculous.”

  So I did. There were certain details I held back, but for the most part, I told him everything. How I’d caved to my libido even though I was determined we not rush into a physical relationship, and how that happened while my teenage son was sleeping in the other room. That was something that bothered me, which was strange because I knew better than to think he expected me to be a hermit. By the time I finished recounting everything from the moment Frankie walked in the door the night I’d caught him at Club 83 through Sunday night, Eli gaped at me.

  “Damn, you don’t do anything by halves, do you?” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “Takes some brass balls to start telling your roommate what to do when he hasn’t given you any clue he’s into the lifestyle. Some might call that stupid, but hey, I’ve known you long enough to know you had your suspicions if you brought it up.”

  “I did,” I responded. “Something you said one night clicked. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you were talking about Frankie when you said it.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?” he asked, and I immediately realized my mistake. No way could I tell him without him prying me for more details. Before I could reply, his phone pinged with an incoming text message. “Shit. I have to get back to the bar. Apparently, the delivery is off and the driver’s trying to blame it on Max. We will be talking about this more later. You in town this weekend?”

  “Yeah, but I think I’m going to take a break from the bar for a bit if that’s okay with you,” I told him. If I was encouraging Frankie to get home at a decent hour, I should do the same. Plus, it’d be torture to sit in the balcony watching guys dry humping one another on the dance floor when I could be home showing Frankie everything he never knew he wanted.

  “I see how it is,” Eli teased. He whipped out his credit card and handed it to the server before he even brought the bill to the table. “You get yourself a gorgeous piece of ass and now you’re too good to help a friend out.”

  “Did you have any issues this past weekend?” I asked, praying I already knew the answer. If there had been more reports of someone turning tricks in the bar, it either meant Frankie wasn’t the only one or he hadn’t been home, bored, liked he’d told me he was.

  “Not that I heard, but it’s not an every week thing. But seriously, it’s not a big deal. I was giving you shit.” I followed Eli through the restaurant to the front entrance. I’d purposely parked close to the bar so we could walk back together, although I was hoping we’d have had a bit more time. “As for shit with Frankie, I think you’re okay. Maybe it’d help if the two of you sit down together and figure out what you want to try. And you should definitely tell him you’re not some Super Dom who was born into the lifestyle. You still have plenty to learn, and it could be fun for both of you to do that together.”

  “That won’t make me seem weak in his mind?” This was my first real shot at living a life I’d obsessed about for years. When I jerked off, it was to images of men restrained, begging me for release, knowing they would only come when I allowed it. Sometimes, they were blindfolded, bodies writhing in anticipation, never knowing if the next sensation against their body would be a loving caress or the thuddy sting of an implement. And sometimes, it was much more innocent: a man waiting for me to come home, knowing I’d be pleased to see him. A man so at peace knowing I’d carry the burden of his stress that he curled up against my side and fell asleep during a movie. I’d had a sample of all of that with Frankie, and I was starving for more.

  “The only thing that’ll make you appear weak is if you’re not man enough to admit your own faults to him.” I knew that, logically, but it was one of those facts I ignored now that I wanted to embrace my dominant side. Why? Because I was scared no one would want me if they knew I was still learning the ropes myself. “No one comes into this lifestyle as a master. Most aren’t completely certain where their limits are. The benefit you have over those who are more experienced is the two of you can learn together. If you want, I can hook you up with some local groups. You might be surprised how supportive everyone is.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  “And talk to Frankie,” he reiterated. We stopped in front of the door to Club 83. “If you want, bring him in sometime. I’d like to get to know him if he plans on sticking around.”

  “We’ll see.” No way in hell would I be taking Frankie back to the bar if I had my s
ay. Any other bar in town would be different, but this bar with its memories was off-limits. “You’d better get in there before Max snaps someone like a twig.”

  I thought about Eli’s advice the entire drive home. And then some more while I tried to get ahead on a proposal for a new project. Finally, I gave up on working and opened my email.

  Just as he’d promised, Eli had sent a link to a local group. My hands shook as I typed in my information for an account on the website. I’d heard of the kink-based online community before, but creating a profile made everything real. Even though I knew there was an honor system within the community and one of the first rules was you respected others’ privacy, I had this fear someone would see my posts, realize it was me, and tell my ex-wife what a deviant I was. I doubted she’d believe them, but I couldn’t risk everything we’d worked to build for our son.

  Frankie texted me at seven forty-five, apologizing because he was running late. I quickly replied that it was fine and to hurry home as soon as he could, followed by a second response, praising him for thinking to let me know. One of the many pieces I’d read once I fell down the “How to be a Dom” rabbit hole mentioned praise as being one of the most subtle ways to make sure the sub felt safe.

  While I waited, I did more of what I’d been doing all afternoon. I read. Time and again, other more experienced men and women mentioned showing your own weaknesses as a sign of strength. It was as if the universe was trying to hammer that particular point home and I was ready to listen.

  Frankie walked through the front door some time later, whistling some pop tune I couldn’t identify. I closed the lid of the laptop and turned on the light on the end table. When he stepped in front of me, he stopped short. “Damn, I didn’t think you could get any hotter, but there’s something stupid sexy about you in those glasses.”

  I quickly removed the frames from my face. They were a bit of a sore subject and even hearing Frankie’s approval couldn’t change the fact I equated needing glasses after a lifetime of perfect vision with getting old. But my brat was in a playful mood. He closed the distance between us and took the glasses out of my hands, putting them back on the bridge of my nose.

  “Why’d you do that?” he asked, running a hand through my tousled hair. It was probably sticking up like Einstein’s since I’d been wringing my hands through it all day.

  “Do what?” I placed my hands on his hips, pulling him against my body.

  “You know damn well what you did.” I quirked an eyebrow, daring him to speak to me like that again. He shrugged. “I might get off on you telling me what to do, but that’s not going to change the fact I don’t have a filter sometimes. Punish me if you want, but I don’t get why you’d take your glasses off right after I said you looked totally fuckable in them.”

  “That’s not exactly what you said,” I corrected him.

  “Well, it’s what I meant. So, why’d you do it?” Frankie led me to the couch and pushed me into the seat. I shifted around to get comfortable and pulled him down next to me. Without having to be told, he curled into my side and rested a hand on my chest.

  “It’s stupid and I shouldn’t have done it,” I apologized, letting out a heavy sigh. Here went nothing; the start of me facing my fears. “The last time I was at the eye doctor was the first time I’ve ever needed glasses. I only need them while I’m reading or working on the computer, but I suppose I see them as a sign that I’m not getting any younger.”

  “I don’t see why that’s a problem.” He tugged at the hem of my shirt and slid his hand along my bare skin. His fingers twirled through the coarse hair on my chest. Yet another reminder that I was older than him, because where his body hair was the same dark brown as the hair on his head, mine was starting to sprout silver patches. “I happen to go for older guys, so from where I’m sitting, it’s a good thing that you’re the age you are.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say,” I told him. Testing the waters, I pulled him onto my lap. Without resistance, he twisted so he faced the opposite direction, this time resting his hand at the back of my neck. I cupped the side of his face and brought his lips down to mine. The kisses tonight weren’t as searing or frantic as Sunday; they were slow and tender. Frankie wiggled around on my lap, smiling against my lips as my dick plumped against his ass. If the brat kept that up, we’d never get any talking done. I broke the kiss and shifted him lower on my legs. “As tempting as you are, I do still want to talk tonight.”

  “I told you I’m fine, Calvin,” he grumbled. “I’m not going to freak out again the way I did the other night. Things were overwhelming for me and I didn’t know what you expected me to do.”

  “I felt the same way,” I admitted, holding my breath to see how he’d respond. Frankie simply tipped his head to the side in question. “I should’ve told you this sooner, but I’ve never actually been in a relationship like this before. I’ve talked to people about it and done research of my own, but you’re the first person I’m trying to explore the lifestyle with. If that changes things, I completely understand.”

  “Why would it?” Frankie seemed genuinely confused as to why I thought he wouldn’t want to be with me now that the truth was out there. “I’ll admit, I sort of wondered a few times because you seem as nervous as I feel, but that didn’t scare me. If anything, it proved you weren’t trying to force anything simply because you thought it’s the way things were supposed to go down. And it’s kind of cool, knowing that even though you’re an old man, there’s something I can do with you that’ll be a first for you, too.”

  “You’re amazing,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, I know.” Cocky little shit. We both laughed and the tension of a minute earlier was broken. “We have some regulars at Marino’s who are super open about being kinky. If you want, I could ask them if there’s anywhere we could go to learn together.”

  Well, that made the next part of this conversation easier. I was worried Frankie would want anything we did to be solely behind closed doors, but I’d read about a club that held an open house one weekend a month. The problem was, it was this weekend and I could only imagine Frankie’s reaction when I made my next request. “What would you think about taking the weekend off? There’s a club not too far from your work that has a sort of Kink 101 night once a month and it might be a good idea for us to go if we’re serious about this.”

  Frankie chewed on his lower lip, and I could practically hear him putting together a list of excuses as to why he couldn’t possibly trust his brothers to run the restaurant. “I can ask, but no promises. I know Freddie would welcome me being out of his hair, but I’m not sure Tony is ready to take on a busy weekend without me yet.”

  “Have faith in them,” I told him. “It’s not like I’m asking you to fly off to some remote island without cell reception. If there’s an issue you need to deal with, they’ll call you.”

  “Is the remote island an option?” He made a show of reaching down to adjust himself. “Because I can think of all sorts of trouble I could get into naked on a beach with you.”

  “Maybe if I win the lottery.” I laughed, feeling better than I had earlier about the future. With his promise to ask his brothers to run the restaurant without him for a few days, I let the conversation drop.

  We watched two episodes of some vampire drama he was obsessed with before I told him it was time for bed. When I tucked him in, he held up the comforter for me to join him. I knew I’d probably regret it, but I did. And both of us slept like the dead until morning.

  10

  Frankie

  I had every intention of taking the weekend off to spend with Calvin. I needed it. I deserved it. Since the day I’d followed Papa into a lawyer’s office to sign the paperwork taking over Marino’s, I’d been shackled to my desk, and it was time for me to start taking back my life. Unfortunately, Friday morning felt like the restaurant was conspiring against my well-laid plans.

  First, it was a huge stain on the carpet in the private dining room. If I foun
d out who’d failed to tell me about that until the morning of a huge engagement party, I’d walk away with a chunk of their ass. I shoved past Tony on my way to the office, praying we could get someone in here this morning to clean the mess or tell us it was a lost cause and we’d have to somehow conceal the remnants of red wine on gray carpeting until we could get the flooring redone. So much for having a good week.

  Next, Tabatha, one of our best bartenders, stopped and asked to speak with me. Her grandmother wasn’t doing well and she needed some time off to go and see her. I wanted to tell her it was really shitty timing and I didn’t have anyone to cover for her, but even for me that would’ve been heartless; I was pretty sure she’d much rather not have to visit a dying family member.

  The rest of the morning wasn’t any better. Minor annoyances piled up to the point I couldn’t breathe. When my phone pinged with a reminder from Calvin to eat lunch, I powered down the phone and stuffed it into my desk drawer. I couldn’t deal with him on top of everything else. Not now. Not when I knew he was going to be upset with me because the first time we were supposed to take this thing we were doing outside the privacy of home, I would be forced to cancel on him.

  I was on my way to the kitchen to find out what had Freddie cursing up a blue streak when Tony stepped into my path. “Not right now. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “Yes, you do,” he argued, pushing me backwards toward my office. “Freddie’s taking care of the problems in the kitchen and you need to let him. Remember, you’re supposed to be taking a step back and letting us deal with this shit for you.”

  “Doesn’t sound like everything’s cool in there,” I quipped as I heard a steel pot crash to the floor. I hoped like hell it was empty, because we’d wasted enough money this morning calling in the cleaning service on short notice.

  “Let him do his thing,” Tony suggested. He closed the door behind us, muffling the noise from the kitchen. “I know it’s not easy for you to give up control, but remember we’re trying to keep you from having a coronary, and we’ll all be better off in the long run once the staff learns who to come to for which issues.”