You Don't Know What Love Is

by Tymber Dalton

  Once they were safely locked in the apartment, they both stripped. Colton fetched his cuffs and collar for Rom and knelt in front of him, holding them up to him.

  As always, peace settled over him, driving all other thoughts out of his head. Not the store, not the wedding plans—for this moment, his world consisted of nothing but Rom standing there and looking down at him.

  Rom took them from him and buckled the collar around his throat first, then the wrist and ankle cuffs. Thus properly attired, Colton knelt, head resting against Rom’s thighs and Rom’s fingers twined through his hair.

  “Such a good boy for me,” Rom softly said. “My very good boy. You make me so proud, every day.”

  A shiver raced through Colton, one he damn well knew meant subspace had hit him hard and fast, faster even than normal. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Rom tapped him on the head, the signal for him to get up. He did, to find Rom smiling at him. “I’ll even be nice and give you a choice to wear a jock or not today during the rope class.”

  Colton felt his face heat. “Sir’s choice, but I’d prefer to wear a jock.”

  Rom reached up and cupped Colton’s chin. When he next spoke, his voice had dropped into dark and dangerous territory. “Then you’d better figure out how to ask me properly for it.”

  Fuck. More heat filled his cheeks, but his cock also started inflating.

  He couldn’t help it—Rom taking charge of him revved his motor, and Rom damn well knew it.

  Colton licked his lips before his first attempt. There was no secret to this game. Rom likely didn’t have a predetermined key phrase he wanted to hear from Colton, either.

  He simply liked to hear Colton beg. Whatever amused Rom the most was what he would finally accept from Colton.

  Oh, sure, Colton knew he could safeword, ask to wear his jock, and Rom would let him. Colton had no doubt Rom would eventually let him wear his jock.

  This was part of the fun for Colton, too, though.

  “Please, Sir, may I wear a jock for the class?”

  Rom didn’t respond except for his left eyebrow slowly arching.

  Yeah, Colton knew he had to get that one out of the way. His own cock was inconveniently stirring, though. Rom didn’t help when he reached out with his other hand and wrapped his fingers around it. Not stroking him, just holding it.

  Distracting him.

  Colton swallowed hard and tried again. “Please, Sir. May your boy wear a jock for the class?”

  The eyebrow remained arched even as Colton’s cock throbbed in Rom’s hand.

  Colton leaned in, his head on Rom’s left shoulder where he could nibble Rom’s earlobe.

  He channeled a breathy, seductive femme fatale.

  Except…buff. And male.

  “Sir, your boy would do anything to be allowed to wear a jock during class today.” Followed by nipping Rom’s earlobe.

  It was the way Rom’s fingers twitched around Colton’s cock, and the sharp intake of breath, that told Colton he’d managed to hit the right one early today.

  “Good boy,” Rom said. He reached around the back of Colton’s neck with the hand not holding Colton’s cock and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss. “Someone’s going to get a nice, hard fucking tonight.”

  * * * *

  Rom drove them to the club. If he did things right tonight, he was hoping Colton wouldn’t be in any condition to drive by the time they were ready to return home, between the class and then scening later at the club.

  Today’s class was being taught by Scrye and June. The married couple reminded Rom of himself and Colton in some ways—Scrye was about as tall and broad-shouldered as Colton, although Scrye had a few years on Colton. In contrast, June was petite and lithe, a former gymnast and coach. Currently, she taught yoga and pole-dancing classes at a studio she helped her older sister run.

  When he’d first signed up for the class, Rom had seriously wondered if the size differential between him and Colton would prove an impediment to him flying his boy. June and Scrye had reassured him that it wouldn’t be an issue, and had even told them another friend of theirs, Leah, had learned how to do suspensions and frequently suspended men much larger than herself.

  Well, if she could do it, he had no excuses to not at least try.

  The class size had been limited for safety reasons to fifteen couples. After arriving and checking in, they staked out a section of mats in the old side of the dungeon, where Rom started unpacking his rope bag.

  Colton, who’d worn shorts and a T-shirt for this part of the day, looked nervous.

  It stiffened Rom’s cock.

  There were several other couples there already, the women all bottoming to the men, apparently. Three of the women had stripped down to panties only, and the fourth was wearing bike shorts and a sports bra.

  Rom waited until Colton’s gaze settled on him, and he simply tipped his head at him, waiting.

  Watching his boy nervously swallow finished hardening Rom’s cock, forcing him to reach down and adjust himself in his jeans.

  Finally, with an adorable blush filling Colton’s cheeks, he kicked his sneakers off before he pulled his shirt over his head and neatly folded it, setting it on top of the duffel bag holding his change of clothes for later.

  “Good boy,” Rom softly said, smiling so hard it nearly hurt.

  Colton glanced his way but started unfastening his shorts, finally pushing them down and stepping out of them, revealing his black and blue jock Rom had purchased for him from one of his favorite gear and toy sites.

  Rom had spread a towel for Colton to sit on, and he did just that to await the start of class.

  Rom didn’t miss how he sat turned away from the others, facing Rom. He also didn’t miss how the women in the room kept glancing at Colton in an appreciative way. More couples filtered in. They weren’t the only gay male couple there, he was relieved to see, but his boy was definitely the buffest, if he did say so himself.

  Reaching over, he cupped Colton’s cheek, his thumb brushing over Colton’s lips. “Good boy,” he whispered again. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I don’t understand why this is so hard for me,” he muttered. “I don’t feel like this at the gym or Kent’s parties, or when we’re playing. And I know I’m safer here than anywhere.”

  “Because you feel emotionally vulnerable right now. In the gym, or at the parties, you know you’re perfectly safe there, too. When we’re playing, you’re too focused on me, and usually blindfolded, to pay attention to anyone else.”

  Colton seemed to consider it. “You might be right,” he mumbled.

  “You just have to get comfortable with this the way you’ve gotten comfortable being naked at home. I will never knowingly put you at risk. That’s why we’re taking classes, so I can learn.”

  He took a deep breath. “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Seven

  Once the class started, Colton finally found himself relaxing as he realized everyone was focused on Scrye and June and not paying a lick of attention to him. This class was for all skill levels, and they were covering rudimentary shibari skills before getting to suspension techniques. Most of the people in the class were like Rom, they knew some basics but not enough to safely suspend someone.

  Today’s class was a literal shibari 101 kind of lesson, going over safety issues, what not to do, different types of ropes and their properties, what sizes and lengths of rope to use, where and how to properly tie and distribute stress from the rope—all the basics Colton sort of knew about but never truly considered before. He’d never tied someone, had always been the bottom when taking part in a rope scene.

  The second half of the class consisted of basic ties and techniques, and culminated in a simple but sturdy chest harness. This wasn’t about artistic rope techniques, but about how to safely build skills with the end goal of suspending the bottom.

  “For example, if you were ever in an emergency rock-climbing situation,” Scrye said, “you could create a safety
harness using these same techniques. Once this class series ends, we’ll schedule a 201 suspension class where we delve into creating more artistic ties. But no one can take that class unless they’ve either successfully passed this one first, or they’ve demonstrated to me personally, to my satisfaction, that they’re already competent safely suspending someone.”

  Colton didn’t speak much. He focused on learning as much as he could, as well as processing the feel of Rom’s hands on him as he tied Colton, and the sensation of the ropes wrapping around his body.

  That, more than anything, settled him, until by the time the class ended and Rom started untying him, he realized he’d slipped into subspace. While in that sweet mental place, nothing had been running through his mind except what they were doing. He’d been tidal-locked into the moment.

  No worries about the business, or their impending wedding.

  Or his parents.

  Rom, who’d been kneeling behind him, rested his chin on Colton’s left shoulder. “How’s my boy?” he softly asked.

  “Good, Sir.” He opened his eyes and tipped his head back to meet Rom’s gaze. “Thank you for making me do this. I’m having fun.”

  “Me, too. I can’t wait until I can suspend you for the first time.”

  “Me, too, Sir.”

  Rom brushed an innocent kiss across Colton’s lips and continued untying him so he could coil his ropes. They’d be going to dinner with a bunch of people from the Suncoast Society before returning for the dungeon session after.

  Colton was definitely looking forward to dinner. He was enjoying meeting others, especially other male submissives, even if they were het or bi. So far, everyone they’d met was friendly, open to talking about sensitive issues, and he’d learned a lot about himself.

  Before Rom removed the last rope from Colton, he leaned in and rested his chin on Colton’s shoulder again. “Boy’s choice—you can wear your jock tonight for the play session, if you want.”

  Usually Rom played with him naked when they played here or at Kent’s.

  Colton thought he misunderstood him. “Sir?”

  Rom nuzzled his ear with his lips, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You were my very good boy today. I’m offering you a reward, if you want it.”

  Colton considered it. “May I decide right before we play?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Drawing back a little so he could look Colton in the eyes, Rom wore a playful smile. “You’re already subspacey, aren’t you?”

  No reason to deny it. “Yes, Sir. A little.”

  Rom kissed the top of his head as he rose. “My very good boy. Go change into your jeans for dinner.”

  * * * *

  After dinner, Colton rode back to Venture with his hand resting on Rom’s right thigh. He’d deliberately not finished his dinner and brought the rest back in a box because he didn’t want to play on a full stomach. He could finish it later, at home, or even here, if he wanted, once they finished playing. It’d all depend on how he felt on the other side of their scene.

  The question of playing naked or not hadn’t come up. He knew Rom wouldn’t pester him about it, either. The man had an eerily accurate sense about when to push him to broaden his boundaries, and when to back off and let him be. One more thing he loved about Rom.

  I don’t deserve to be this happy.

  The thought, swooping in out of nowhere, darkened his mood. He had these kinds of thoughts every so often. Usually when he had too much time on his hands with nothing else to focus on.

  Something he’d once confessed to Grammy, maybe a year before he lost her. That maybe he was “bad.”

  That maybe his parents were right, and he was the “wrong” one.

  She’d immediately flipped into anger—at his parents, not at him—for ever putting those kinds of thoughts into his head.

  “You’re perfect the way you are, and the right guy will be damned lucky to have you.”

  Rom had never betrayed his trust. Rom had a good job, worked hard.

  Seemed to want him.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Rom asked. “I sense a disturbance in the Force.”

  The snort escaped Colton—he couldn’t help it. That was something else about Rom, that he made him laugh.

  Hell, he’d laughed more in the past couple of months than he had in years.

  “I think…maybe I went too deep into my head for a little bit. Sorry. Stirred up the wrong kind of dust.”

  Rom glanced over at him, serious now. “Would you prefer to go home? Or we don’t have to play there. We can go socialize and watch and then go play at home.”

  Colton squeezed his thigh. “I want to play there, Sir.” He loved the club’s play equipment, something they didn’t have at home. Although, at home—or Kent’s—their play could involve lots and lots of sex.

  “Do we need to talk?” Rom asked.

  He wasn’t even sure how to pierce the emotional dust cloud so he could describe or explain it to Rom.

  “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up,” Colton finally said, “just to find out you and this were all a dream, and that I’m alone. Or that you’ll wake up and realize you aren’t happy with me.”

  Rom’s hand came to rest on top of Colton’s. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. Not without you.” He gently squeezed. “Is the wedding happening too fast?”

  Another snort. “Not like you mean. I asked you, remember?”

  “Buuuut?”

  It took him another moment to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially you.”

  Rom pulled over into the parking lot of a small shopping center, where everything was closed. He shifted into park and turned to face Colton.

  “Are we okay, Colt?”

  Colton nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “If you’re having doubts and need more time to—”

  “No.” He gripped Rom’s hand with both of his. “I just…” He blew out a long breath. “It’s not fair Grammy’s not here to see this. How did I get so lucky all of a sudden? I’m worried something’s going to hit me from out of left field, and I’ll lose you, and I won’t know how to survive it.”

  Rom reached up with his free hand and cupped Colton’s cheek. “I think we had that scare already, baby.”

  Colton’s eyes dropped closed as he nuzzled Rom’s hand. “I’m not used to all these other people making choices for me. I mean, I know they love us and want to throw us a kick-ass party, but…”

  * * * *

  I’m an idiot.

  Rom mentally kicked himself. He suspected he knew the true source of Colton’s disquiet, even if Colton didn’t. Here he’d been getting a massive giggle out of watching Colton having to let others make decisions—people besides Rom, that was—and it’d actually been triggering his boy.

  Colton’s grandmother had done a fantastic job teaching Colton all the life skills he’d needed to survive once she passed. How to take charge in business and personally, so he wouldn’t be dependent upon others.

  So people wouldn’t be able to hurt him again, the way his parents had. So he wouldn’t be dependent upon anyone for his livelihood or care.

  What he hadn’t learned, through no fault of hers, was how to let go. Sure, Colton could let go to Rom, because Rom had earned his trust.

  “I’ll talk to Kent and Aunt Roberta tomorrow,” Rom said. “I’ll step in and supervise the arrangements.”

  Colton’s eyes snapped open, focused on him, but he didn’t reply.

  “Will that help?” Rom asked.

  Colton took a deep breath. “Maybe,” he quietly admitted.

  As best he could in the front seat of the car and with their seatbelts in the way, Rom pulled Colton in for a hug and tightly held him. “I promise I’ll take care of my boy,” he whispered. “We’ll have a beautiful ceremony, a lot of fun, and by the end of the night you’ll be my husband, and I’ll be yours.”

  Rom felt his boy’
s shuddering breath. “Thank you, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much this was stressing you out.”

  “But I don’t understand why it’s stressing me out. And that’s stressing me out, too.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He kissed Colton’s forehead. “The why doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of it. You focus on work, and what you want your vows to be. That’s it. I’ll make sure everything else falls together.”

  “But I’m supposed to take care of you, Sir.”

  “Is that something else stressing you out? That you’re not the one doing all the planning for this?”

  Colton shrugged. “I honestly don’t know why I’m stressing. I keep thinking about how angry my parents were the day I came out. I’ll never forget how they yelled at me before I called Grammy. That’ll stay with me to my dying day. The things they called me. And then how Grammy, Aunt Roberta, and the others rescued me.”

  Rom cupped Colton’s face in his hands. “The only people at our wedding will be people happy for us and celebrating with us. Fuck your parents. They’re the ones missing out. Like you’ve said before, it’s not like they can’t find you. They could’ve reached out at any time.”

  “Why wasn’t I good enough for them?”

  If Colton’s parents were standing right there, Rom would have felt tempted to hit both of them. Even Colton’s mom.

  All Rom could do was kiss him. “You have that the wrong way around. They weren’t good enough for you.”

  * * * *

  Back to the club, where they’d already paid for the whole night when they signed in for the class. They showed their wristbands and headed into the dungeon area with their bags. After Rom buckled Colton’s collar and cuffs on him, they quickly located some of the people they’d just had dinner with, including June and Scrye.

  Colton felt torn between wanting to play and wanting to talk with Rom to figure out why he’d hit this…roadblock.