Dom of Ages

by K. C. Wells

  “Whereabouts is this house?” I asked as I picked up my keys and warm jacket. March had come in with an icy blast, after the end of February had lulled everyone into a false sense of security with its unseasonably mild last few days.

  Jarod stepped into the hallway, his coat already on. “Do you know the Worsley turnoff for the M60?”

  I thought for a moment; then it came to me. “Yes. There’s a French haulage company who have their base near there, near Leigh.”

  “Well, the house is on Leigh Road.”

  I wasn’t familiar with it, but at least I knew the area. “Okay, let’s go.”

  We drove through the center of Manchester and joined the M60 motorway. Once we reached junction 13, Jarod gave me directions to Leigh Road. On one side of the road was a walled park and a garden center. The other side took my breath away. The houses were enormous compared to mine, huge ancestral piles of brick, landscaped gardens, high walls and wrought-iron gates; we were talking a serious amount of money, just on this one road. There was a hollowness in my stomach. Did Jarod live here? Why on earth would he want to live in my house?

  Finally we turned off the road and pulled up to a wrought-iron gate. Jarod handed me a card that he told me I needed to swipe against the mechanical sentry. The gates swung open, and I got my first look at Jarod’s home. It was a Georgian-style house, set in its own grounds, with lawns laid out to the front. We drove past the front of the house to a wide paved area in front of a triple garage.

  I switched off the engine, and we got out of the car. As we approached the large front door, I looked up and counted nine wide sash windows. In front of the house were four square box hedges. The view across the lawn was spectacular, with several huge mature trees near the road end of it.

  I turned to face Jarod. “You live here?” I asked, dumbfounded. For a moment doubt crept in. Why would Jarod need me when he had all this?

  “This was Master Phillip’s home,” he corrected.

  “It was yours too. After more than two decades, I’m certain a lot of you is in here too.”

  He smiled and led me to the front door. We stepped into a light entrance hall with a polished tiled floor and a staircase leading up on the right. Jarod tensed.

  “What is it, pet?”

  “It’s… dusty. Things are a mess, and I don’t like messes” came the reply.

  I had to wonder if he regretted living with me when this was clearly his place. I couldn’t keep quiet.

  “Jarod, if you’d rather live here, I’m okay with it.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “You’d live here too?”

  I shook my head. “Well, no. I have my own house. But we’ll still see each other, if you want.”

  He froze, panic all too clear on his face. “No! I don’t want to leave you. Please don’t make me.”

  I placed my hands on his upper arms. “Calm down, pet. I’m not making you leave. But this is your home.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “No. This hasn’t been home for many years. It’s just a place, that’s all it’s been for a long time now. Where you are? For me, that’s home. It’s alive, filled with your presence. This? This is a monument to a man who left this world years ago. He’d be ashamed of me for trying to hold on to it, especially now when it’s just hit me that he’s never coming home.”

  My tongue was thick, and it was hard to swallow.

  “Will you show me around?” I finally choked out.

  He smiled and led me through the house.

  I’d never been in anything like it. The rooms were all spacious and light, with high ceilings and large windows, letting the light spill into every corner. I still couldn’t get over Jarod living in such a beautiful place. The house had everything he could possibly want. Then I recalled the man who disobeyed me because he wanted a connection. The one who snuggled into my arms. The man who took great joy in simply making me breakfast. It was then I knew that the trappings of wealth weren’t want Jarod wanted. What I gave him, and what we were building, was what he craved.

  In the lounge a grand piano, black and gleaming, stood in the bay window.

  “It’s gorgeous. Can you play, pet?”

  He flushed slightly. “Yes. Phillip taught me. I used to play when he held dinner parties.”

  The fact he hadn’t said Master Phillip didn’t escape my notice, but I kept quiet about it. I thought he hadn’t even realized it himself yet. “Would you play something for me?”

  Jarod glanced at the piano and smiled. “I’d be happy to.” He sat down at the piano and lifted the lid. He paused, his hands hovering over the keys, and then Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” filled the air, the notes as light as the room in which we found ourselves. I stared in awe as Jarod’s fingers moved skillfully over the keyboard with a fluid grace.

  “That’s beautiful, pet,” I uttered in a hushed voice. It had been one of my mum’s favorite pieces of music. The serene expression on Jarod’s face matched the tranquility of the music. I gazed around the room, taking in the stylish furniture, the tasteful paintings. “What did Phillip do for a living?”

  Jarod smiled, his fingers never ceasing in their ballet. “He didn’t work. He came from money, and most of the time he traveled the world, investing in companies, giving money to charitable foundations.”

  I became very still. “Pet… just how much are you worth?”

  He eyed me curiously. “To whom?”

  I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

  Jarod shrugged, his gaze returning to his playing. “I get a stipend from the investment company. It goes into the bank. I never touched it, even when Phillip put money into it, so I don’t know how much is there. I don’t touch it beyond shopping. I’ve got a card that I swipe. All bills go to the accountant. He handles them. Phillip never wanted me to have to worry about the minutiae when I had more to concern myself with taking care of him. I have an idea how much the house is worth, because Phillip had it valued not long before he died. So four years ago, it could have sold for close on two million.”

  I was glad he wasn’t looking in my direction, because my jaw dropped. My pet was a millionaire, probably many times over.

  Jarod glanced at me. “But how much am I worth? I took care of him. I take care of you. So you’ll have to tell me: how much am I worth?”

  There was uncertainty in his eyes, and I didn’t like it. This man was amazing. There should never be a doubt in his mind. I stepped over to where he sat and took his face in my hands. He stopped playing and stared up at me.

  “How much are you worth? You came into my life and fulfilled a need I’d always had, and you’re allowing me to take care of you.” I smiled. “How much are you worth? Pet, you’re absolutely priceless.” Then I leaned forward and kissed him, sighing with contentment when he sank against me.

  Abruptly Jarod straightened, putting a little distance between us. “Does the fact I have money make a difference, Sir?” He had such an earnest expression that I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Should it?”

  He shrugged. “Some people find out that there is money, and they see me differently. I never asked for it. In fact, I told Phillip he should leave it to his family, because he needed to take care of them.” His expression softened. “He took me in his arms and said, ‘None of them ever took care of me. Before I met you, the only time any of them bothered to show up was when they wanted money. You’ve never asked me for a thing, boy. It’s that which tells me what I have belongs to you. If something ever happens, I want you taken care of. My family will get something, like Mum and Dad wanted, but I won’t give them more than they deserve.’” His chest heaved, his eyes full of emotion.

  I sat beside him on the long piano stool, and took his hand in mine.

  “It’s your money, pet. Spend it. Save it. Give it to charity. Whatever makes you happy is good enough for me.”

  “We could—”

  “No, I don’t want your money, Jarod. I make a good living. I enjoy working, a
nd if I gave any of it up, I wouldn’t be me. Does that make sense? I need to work and feel useful, like you.”

  Jarod

  ELI’S WORDS eased something deep inside me, confirming my first impressions of him. I knew money corrupted people, but Eli’s reaction showed him to be above that.

  I’m right to trust him.

  The thought brought a lightness to me that had been missing for some time.

  We went through the house, collecting things I would need now that I was to stay with Eli. As I picked up each of the items, I noticed something profound. The ever-present ache wasn’t nearly as intense as it had always been. For the first time, I knew the house was an empty shell. Nothing remained there now but memories. I shot a quick glance over at Eli and my heart beat a little faster. This man had taken me in, given me a purpose again. I couldn’t figure out exactly when this place had stopped being home, and Eli’s had started, but it probably didn’t matter.

  I’d hold on to the house, until I figured out what I wanted to do with it. But I wasn’t going to live there.

  My place was with Eli.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jarod

  FROM THE outside, Collars & Cuffs seemed innocuous, a red-bricked building, maybe an old factory or industrial space, tucked in a quiet corner off Canal Street yet visible to the pedestrian traffic. A security guard stood at the black-painted wooden door, taking names and checking off a list. The windows were blacked out, betraying nothing of the club’s interior, and the faint hum of music could be heard.

  Even on first impressions, it was nothing like Spitfire. That didn’t stop my heart from pounding as Eli led me across the street to the main door.

  His hand was at my lower back, gentle and reassuring. “It’s all right, pet. It’s okay to be nervous. And never forget, I’m here with you and for you.”

  His words calmed me a little. “Let’s just see what it’s like on the inside, okay?” That was going to be the acid test.

  “I promised you. If you’re not happy, we don’t stay. All I ask is that you give it a chance.”

  I breathed deeply. He was being fair, so I’d do my bit too.

  The security guard gave Eli a polite smile. “‘’Ello again. It’s Eli, right?” He glanced at me, his smile still evident. “Welcome, gentlemen.” He opened the door, and we entered a reception area, its wide desk manned by a young guy with a winning smile. Once Eli had signed us in and we’d been issued with visitors’ wristbands, the large metallic door to our left clicked open, and we were inside.

  “Well, pet?” Eli stood at my side while I glanced around the club, trying to take in my surroundings. I couldn’t see the main floor of the club, except for glimpses on the wall monitors in the bar area ahead of us, but I could certainly hear what was going on. Familiar sounds took me back to when Phillip and I had first frequented the clubs: the swish of a riding crop; the thwack of a whip through the air; the dull smack of a paddle connecting with flesh; and beneath it all, the constant undercurrent of sounds of pleasure and pain, voices both high and low.

  It wasn’t until that moment that I really knew how much I’d missed it.

  Before I had time to say a word, he led me over to where two men stood by the bar, deep in conversation. They looked up and smiled to see him. Eli put his arm around my waist. “Jarod, this is Leo Hart and Thomas Williams. They own Collars & Cuffs.”

  I estimated Leo to be in his forties, while Thomas appeared older. Both men greeted me with warm smiles.

  “It’s good to have you here,” Leo said, his voice rich and deep. I had to look up at him, he was so tall. “Eli has already told us so much about you. Feel free to look around and ask any questions you like. I can guarantee you’ll find a warm reception.” He glanced over my shoulder and smirked. “In fact, I’d say you’re about to be on the receiving end of a hug any second now.”

  I twisted around, Eli with me, and saw a young man with red hair heading straight for us, his face lit up with a smile.

  Eli laughed. “Pet, that’s Scott, Ben’s boy. He’s been dying to meet you.”

  “You must be Jarod.” The hug Leo had predicted came mere seconds later, then Scott released me. “Wanna come meet my friends?” He glanced at Eli and lowered his gaze, his manner slightly more reserved. “If that’s okay with you, Sir.” It was obvious from his accent that Scott was American.

  Eli nodded and then gazed at me. “You’re in safe hands, pet. Go meet people, ask questions. I’ll be here, okay?”

  “Yay!” Scott exclaimed. Whatever response I’d intended making was lost when he tugged me away from Eli to a table in the corner of the bar, where two young men sat. Behind me, I could hear Eli, Leo, and Thomas chuckling.

  Scott appeared to be the youngest. He indicated an empty chair and then flopped down next to the others. “Okay, that tall drink of water in the corner is Alex, and I do mean tall,” Scott said with a grin, pointing to a young man in his midtwenties with short brown hair and pale blue eyes. Alex gave a nod in my direction, his eyes sparkling. “And next to him is Peter. These guys are my best friends here.”

  Peter seemed the quietest of the three. “You’ll have to forgive Scott,” he said in a low voice. “He tends to be rather exuberant.” He smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  Scott guffawed. “Is that another word for American?” He winked at me. “Alex here is the shy and retiring type—well, he used to be. These days he’s coming out of his shell more and more. It’s amazing what getting married can do to a guy.” He grinned. “Guess I’ll find that out for myself soon enough.”

  I stared in surprise. He seemed awfully young to be considering marriage. And Alex was already married?

  “You met Alex’s husband when you arrived,” Peter said. I liked the sound of his voice. It had a calm, peaceful quality to it. “Leo Hart? They got married just after Christmas.”

  “Congratulations,” I offered Alex, whose cheeks flushed. I turned back to Scott. “You’re getting married too?”

  Scott nodded, his eyes gleaming. “Ben and I are getting hitched this summer. I can’t wait.” He was almost bouncing on his chair.

  “Yeah, only this time it’ll be for real,” Alex said with a wink, digging Peter in the ribs with an elbow.

  My confusion must have shown, because Peter leaned toward me. “Let’s just say Scott and Ben were helping Leo keep his wedding plans a secret, so a little subterfuge was called for.”

  “That was awesome. And great that we get to do it all over again.” Scott’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  I relaxed into my chair. “So, tell me about the club. You’re subs?”

  Alex nodded. “Scott and I come here whenever we can, but Peter is just starting to make this a more regular thing. His Sir is Thomas, Leo’s partner.”

  “I come here to be with Sir.” Peter’s voice was warm. “I don’t do scenes with him, though. Thomas is here to run the club, but when he’s home, my job is to see to the running of the house, to make his life easier.”

  I smiled at him. “Then we have something in common.”

  His eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Hey, who’s this?”

  I tensed as two young men joined us, dragging chairs from a nearby table to sit, but Scott wrapped an arm around my shoulders and held me close.

  Alex did the introductions this time, indicating a young man with dark hair and even darker eyes. “That’s Pietro. He works with me in a restaurant in the city center, and his master is Miles. You might see him in a while, if we go on a bit of a tour, because he’s Dungeon Master tonight.”

  Pietro grinned and then looked straight at me. “I met your Sir the other day, I think. Is he a friend of Ben’s?”

  I nodded.

  “Ah, so you’ve come to check us out.” He indicated the young man to his right. “This is Dorian. He’s been here longer than the rest of us.” He dug Dorian in the arm. “Isn’t that right?” he asked with a grin.

  Dorian smiled, his cheeks
pinking. “It’s a good club,” he told me. “What I like most about it?” He glanced at the young men around the table. “Anyone here will tell you, being a member of Collars & Cuffs is like being part of a family. You get support when you need it, friendship….” He swallowed hard, and Pietro squeezed his shoulder. Dorian gave him a grateful look and then returned his attention to me. “Trust me. This is a good place.” There were murmurs of assent from the others. Judging from the glances directed toward Dorian, I figured there was a story there.

  What overwhelmed me, however, was that not once had one of them made any reference to my age. Like it simply didn’t matter to them. Encouraged, I found myself sharing my history, telling them about Phillip. There were supportive noises and tears from my audience when I told them about the last four years, the fact that I’d merely been existing rather than living. Alex and Peter in particular were nodding as I spoke.

  “You are going to join, aren’t you?” Peter asked when I’d finished, “because I think you’d be a good fit here.” More nods from the others sent a rush of warmth through me, and I nodded.

  Not that he needed to ask. I’d already made my mind up.

  Eli had been right about this place. It felt… right.

  Eli

  “HE LOOKS like he’s made some friends already.”

  I turned to look at Thomas, who was watching Jarod and the five young men in the bar. I nodded, glad to see him smiling and laughing. The pair of us becoming members was looking more likely.

  “So, what happens next?” I asked, keeping my tone brisk.

  Thomas smiled at Leo. “Now I see why you like him.” He met my gaze. “Leo’s always preferred people who come straight to the point.” He gestured to the bar. “At least let me offer you a drink.”

  I accepted a club soda, and Thomas led the way into their office. Leo closed the door behind us. When Thomas had sat down behind the desk, he reached into a filing cabinet beside him and pulled out a manila folder. “These are the application forms, direct-debit forms for your bank, and the rules of the club. I like to keep a copy of contracts here, for our eyes only, but that’s not mandatory. I do, however, have a list of rules for Doms that—”