He was also pretty sure both couples were kinky, but as with pregnant women, it wasn’t a subject he broached first. If someone else wanted to bring it up, sure.
Lara paused, a hand on her belly. “You busy for dinner tonight?” she asked, almost as if reading his mind.
“Didn’t have any plans, no.”
“Come over for dinner. Everett and Wylie are coming over, too. Just casual.”
He knew from conversations with Lara that Everett was her ex-husband, and Wylie was Everett’s husband.
And they lived across the road from Lara and Brad.
“Sure, why not? Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself. Unless you have a date?”
“That’s a laugh. I haven’t had time for a social life.” He’d hit the ground running once he’d started working in the Sarasota real estate office, having moved there from Miami. He’d grown tired of the high-end real estate turf wars in Miami, and sick of the party scene when it came to dating.
Besides, he wasn’t a twink. He was forty-five years old, so it wasn’t like he had gay male Doms fighting each other for a chance to date him. Unless they were bears older than him, and that wasn’t his scene, either.
He wanted to meet a nice guy who wasn’t way older than him, who didn’t look like he was wearing a rug, and who wanted to beat his ass.
Is that too much to ask?
“Well…maybe we can take care of that for you, too. We’ve got some friends with hellaciously good track records introducing people to each other. If…eh…you’re of an open-minded kind of mindset.”
“How open we talking?”
She arched an eyebrow at him and tipped her head, indicating for him to follow her into her office. He shut the door behind them and sipped his coffee.
“Weeellll,” she slowly started after she settled behind her desk. “How open-minded are you?”
He decided to go for broke. “Are you asking if I’m a swinger, or kinky, or what?”
“The second. Or am I wrong about you?”
He frowned. “Is it obvious?”
“Not really, no. But I could tell you’re not exactly a prude. You seemed to pick up double entendres the vanillas in our office don’t. Question is, you a Top or bottom?”
“In bed or the dungeon?”
“Both.”
Not like he had anything to lose opening up to her. “Definitely a bottom in the dungeon. In the bedroom I’m versatile. In the relationship overall I’m the bottom.”
“You know we have a BDSM club here in Sarasota, right?”
That pulled him up short. “We do?”
“Yeah, Venture. Nice dungeon. Not a sex club, either. Private membership club but easy to become a member. We have a lot of friends who are members, too. Some who even volunteer.”
“Really? I did not know that.”
Now that was an interesting tidbit that had somehow escaped his attention. About there being a local dungeon. “You’re members?”
“Yep. Brad and I are more toward the vanilla end of the scale than Ev and Wy are. And they wouldn’t be upset with me revealing that to you, either.” She smiled. “But my boy and I have fun.”
Ah. Now he knew why he’d clicked with her as friends almost immediately. She was a Top. For some reason, he’d always easily made friends with toppy women. Probably because, unlike many men, he had no chip on his shoulder about a woman who liked to take charge.
“Does six tonight work for you?” she asked.
“Sure. I was going to cut out of here in a little while anyway. Shorts okay?”
“Absolutely.” She leaned back in her chair. “And no worries about me keeping a lid on our…eh, extracurricular activities. I’m on FetLife, too, if you want to friend me there.”
“Um, no offense? I’ve never been fond of the site. I tried it a couple of years ago, and it was as bad as all the dating apps I’ve tried and given up on. I need a real-life connection with a person. I’m not into cruising or quickies or anything like that. I still have an account there but I haven’t been on it in over a year, at least.”
She cocked her head at him. “No wonder you didn’t know we have a local dungeon. What about munches?”
“I haven’t had time to go to any.”
“There’s one this Sunday. You should come.”
“Can’t. Open house all day.”
“It’s not until seven. You’ll be done by then. We’ll buy you dinner.”
He stepped closer, folding his arms over his chest as best he could while sipping his coffee to buy him a little time to respond.
“Why are you so eager to play matchmaker?”
She grinned. “It’s kind of a thing we do. We like to see our friends happy. Pay it forward. Come on, what do you have to lose? If nothing else, you make new friends, right?”
He sighed, sensing now that she had a self-ordained mission to fix him up with someone, she wasn’t going to let up. “All right. But don’t get your feelings hurt if you pair me with someone and we don’t hit it off, okay?”
“Deal.” He turned to head for his own office when Lara spoke again. “So what is your type, anyway?”
He glanced back, and yes, she actually had a pen and notepad ready.
He rolled his eyes. “Nice guy, gainfully employed or independently wealthy, reasonably intelligent, Dominant. Not attracted to bears, chubs, or otters, though, so…” He shrugged. “I know I’m getting to be a gay man of a certain age who’s going to start having problems attracting a guy who’s going to want me, but there you have it.”
“Nah, you just haven’t been fishing in the right pond, that’s all.” She’d jotted down a few things. “We’re going to put the Frightful Five on it.”
“Excuse me? The who?”
She grinned. “You heard me. The Frightful Five. That’s what we’ve dubbed them, and so far, their track record is one hundred percent. To the good.”
“I hope this wasn’t a mistake.”
“Nope.” She set her pen down with a pleased smile. “See you tonight at six.”
He returned to his office and couldn’t help the little strand of hope that was trying to shove its way into his mind like some kind of mutant bean sprout bursting through concrete, no matter how hard he mentally stomped on it to kill it.
Hope got his heart broken in the past. He was done with hope.
What happened, happened. Maybe eventually he’d get pulled into the gravity of someone else and start circling in orbit around them, but he needed to focus on other areas of his life.
Or maybe I just wasn’t meant to be happy like that.
* * * *
Lara and Brad lived in the eastern part of the county, in a rural area. Both they, and Wylie and Everett, had working ranches. Brad even paid Wylie to pasture some of his stock on their land for grazing purposes.
Now knowing what Dustin knew, it was easy to see the bond between Master and slave when he studied Ev and Wy, as they’d told Dustin to call them. Ev reminded Dustin a little of a Viking, and the fact that he had a nice body forged from his years doing metalwork and blacksmithing was a plus. Wylie wore a chainmail bracelet Dustin suspected was his day collar, and the adoration in his eyes as he looked at Ev made Dustin’s heart twist in an envious way.
Apparently Brad’s teenaged son, who lived with him and Lara, was away for the evening, because the frank conversation started almost immediately.
“I had a quick chat with Victor this afternoon,” Lara said. “He gave me permission to tell you he and Simon are also in the lifestyle.”
“Our Victor?”
“Yep.”
One more puzzle piece clicked into place. “That I can believe. I can totally see Victor being a Dom.”
Dustin had felt a keen, sharp stab of disappointment when he’d first met Victor in the office, shook with him, and saw the wedding ring on the man’s left hand. His Southern drawl always threatened to harden Dustin’s cock when he talked to him.
“You asked if
I had a type,” Dustin said. “Victor would definitely be my type. And Ev, here. Not that I’m trying to hit on you,” he quickly added.
Ev smiled. “No worries. And thanks, I’m flattered.”
“That’s a pretty broad spectrum,” Lara said. “But makes my job easier.”
“I hope so, because I’m about to give up. Unless I’m specifically somewhere there are almost nothing but gay men, like a gay bar or something, I rarely get hit on by gay guys. If I was bi, I could easily find a woman to take home.” He belatedly realized how that came out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound narcissistic there.”
Lara smiled. “You didn’t. I knew what you meant.”
“Most people assume I’m straight, including gay men. I must have missed it when they handed out the ‘gay male subliminal signals for dating’ genes. And when I do get hit on by gay guys, it’s either young twinks looking for a Daddy, or bears way older than me whom I’m not attracted to.”
“That’s because you’re so big and brawny,” Wy said with a smile. “They could climb you. Hell, if I was single, I’d climb you.”
“Aaaannd that’s exactly my point. I don’t mind topping in bed, but I am not a Top. Have no desire to be. I deal with my life how I need to, and do the adulting thing just fine. If I’m in a relationship, I want him to be in charge.”
“So you don’t want someone younger than you?” Lara asked.
“I don’t mind that. Except I have no interest in some eighteen-year-old getting his party freak on or looking for a sugar Daddy. You pair me up with a mature younger guy, sure, I’d go out with him and give him a chance.”
“Okay. That makes our job easier.”
“I don’t know if he’d give me a chance,” he added.
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “Let’s just say my track record with younger Doms has sucked.”
They heard the front door open. “Yoo-hoo!” a woman called out. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Come on in.” Ev stood and greeted the woman, who carried a cheesecake. “Dustin Poole, this is my sister, Eve Cannon.”
She shook with him. “Nice to meet you. No, don’t get up, Brad. I know where everything is. I’ll fix my own plate.” She hugged Wylie, then, going around the table on her way to the kitchen, she leaned in and hugged Lara, then Brad. “I’ll be right back.”
Ev retook his seat. “She knows. No worries.”
Dustin relaxed. Eve joined them a moment later, her plate laden with food, and took the empty chair next to Wylie. “What’s the topic of discussion?”
“Bringing in the Frightful Five for Dustin,” Lara said, quickly catching her up on the conversation.
Eve’s eyes widened. “Oooh! Cool. Kimbra told me she’s bringing a guy from her office to the munch Sunday. Single, gay, Dom. I’ve met him. He’s a cutie.”
“Hot damn.” Lara shot Dustin a pleased smile. “We’ll start there, then. I’ll get with Kimbra and sort out the deets.”
This was moving waaay too fast. “Who’s Kimbra?”
“A friend of mine,” Eve said. “Lawyer. Different kind of law than I practice, though. She handles criminal and a lot of civil rights cases. Does a lot of pro bono work, especially looking at overturning wrongful convictions.”
Eve used her fork to point and sweep around the table. “And a friend in common to everyone here. Her ex-husband, Walt, is a Dom. He and his wife, Holly, will be there, too. If nothing else, we’ll find you more friends.”
“I feel like I need a scorecard to keep track of people now.”
Everyone busted out laughing. Wylie spoke first. “That would be for Tilly and her guys, but they’re out of town and won’t be there.”
“Wait, who’s Tilly?”
“She’s the group’s original matchmaker, and the organizer of the Frightful Five to do the job in her absence.” Wylie smiled. “Hey, she introduced me and Ev, among others. She’s got a knack for it. They all do.”
“As long as he’s not some nutjob,” Dustin said. “I don’t need crazy drama in my life.”
“No,” Eve assured him. “I don’t know him real well, but Kimbra speaks highly of him as an attorney. If he was a drama llama, he wouldn’t be working in her office. She doesn’t tolerate that nonsense. And she wouldn’t be personally vouching for him and bringing him to a munch if there was any chance of him being a trainwreck.”
By the time Dustin headed home around ten that evening, he felt…
He didn’t know how he felt.
The other five were convinced him turning himself over to them and the Frightful Five—which still sounded like a scary as hell name for matchmakers—was the right move. Add in Victor and Simon, despite their absence.
Seven to one.
Well, they can’t all be wrong, can they?
He’d reserve judgment until he actually met the guy Sunday night. He knew it was likely they wouldn’t hit it off as anything other than friends, because, hellooo, law of averages. And he had no idea how old this guy was.
But new friends, he could use some of them.
Another reason he’d left Miami, because he realized most of his “friends”…weren’t. They were acquaintances, drinking buddies, fuck buddies if he wanted them to be—and he rarely did—and sources of stories Dustin could later tell which nearly always started with, “So this guy I knew got really drunk one night and…”
Yeah.
Not exactly quality guys.
But what did that say about him that he had acquired that circle of “friends” over the years? After college and starting work, it seemed like his quality friends drifted away, either literally, moving out of the area, or figuratively. Life and lives got in the way. They started families.
And he’d gotten tired of being the only single gay friend at a gathering of all families, or at least of couples, gay and straight.
Fuck my life.
He had not taken the time to do a serious introspection in several years, but if he was brutally honest with himself…
Yeah. He’d set himself up to fail in dating. The guys he’d really clicked with on an intellectual and emotional level wanted to nest. Adopt kids, or some even had kids already, either adopted, or biological with a surrogate, or biological as a result of a soured relationship with an ex-girlfriend or ex-wife, their failed attempt to try to insist they weren’t gay.
If he didn’t want his life in Sarasota to become as emotionally empty as his life in Miami, he needed to step up and figure this shit out.
What can it hurt to meet this guy Sunday?
Nothing. It’d hurt nothing. It wouldn’t lead to anything, he was convinced of that, but it wouldn’t hurt a damn thing.
Okay then. Let’s do this.
Chapter Three
“Do not act like a bitch tonight, Bryce.” Kimbra eyed him at a red light. “If you embarrass me in front of my friends, I’m going to spank you in a bad way, boy. What is wrong with you? Why are you in such a foul mood? If you didn’t want to come tonight, why not tell me before I drove all the way over to your place to pick you up?”
A wave of shame filled him. Yes, he’d been grumpy and growly and basically an asshole since she’d picked him up twenty minutes earlier. It wasn’t her fault.
“I’m sorry.” He stared at his phone. “It’s Kira. I think there’s something really wrong and she’s not telling me.” He finally returned his phone to his shirt pocket. If Kira texted or called him, it’d go off and he’d feel it.
Kimbra’s tone softened. “Sorry. You should have told me that. I was beginning to think a pod person had taken you over. You said she’s going to be here in a few weeks, right?”
“Yeah, but I was going to FaceTime with her earlier today. She cancelled the call, then sent me a text saying she couldn’t FaceTime with me, and that she’d catch up when she gets here. Which I still don’t know when that is, because she hasn’t told me.”
Kimbra gave him a raging case of side-eye. “So? That’s all?”
“We
FaceTime every Sunday, same time. It’s our thing. For years. She never cancels at the last second like that without telling me why. It’s like there’s something wrong and she’s trying to hide it.”
“Look, you said she’s moving, right? Maybe she was busy doing something. Or on the toilet. Regardless, don’t take it out on anyone tonight, okay?”
He still couldn’t shake the feeling there was something…wrong.
“Maybe you’re right.” It was easier to say that and stuff his feelings than trying to explain it to Kimbra and letting her logic him out of it.
“Mira, chico, she just broke up with a jerk, right?”
“Yeah?”
“And she’s stressed from losing her job.”
“Yeah?”
“Cut her some slack, huh? Three of the biggest life stressors are hitting her at once. Job loss, relationship loss, long-distance move.”
“Yeah, I guess. I can’t wait for you to meet her. Maybe you can help me get her some local contacts.”
“I’ll be glad to. Probably hook her up with Eve for contacts, too. She handles corporate law. Maybe even Ed and Ross. Let’s get her down here, first. Meanwhile, you need to focus on you. Stop trying to deflect and dump all your energy into her once she gets here. Just because your last boyfriend was an asshole doesn’t mean there’s not a guy out there for you.”
“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into coming tonight.”
“Free wine and food, buddy. I know the way into your heart.”
He chuckled. “Gee, why didn’t you and Walt work out?”
An amused snort escaped her. “That boy was wicked in the sack, but he needed a lot more than I could give him outside of it. It wasn’t his fault, and I’ll be the first to admit it. Hey, he’s happy with Holly, and things worked out for the best. If I hadn’t divorced Walt, he wouldn’t have met Holly, and Holly wouldn’t have met me. Louis would still be sitting in a damn jail cell he didn’t belong in, and you and I wouldn’t be up to our armpits in files, looking for wrongful convictions.”
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