Begging to Serve

by Morticia Knight

  Harry scowled at him right as Ned nudged him sharply in his side.

  “Never mind. I’m anxious for a good thrashing, not an inquisition.”

  He abruptly turned then pushed his way through the crowd toward the screens in the back. Aaron took a slug of his drink. He hadn’t anticipated how awkward it might be to seek out a fellow Dominant. He’d certainly never had reason to try before. Aaron turned to Ned, who radiated a look of disapproval.

  He raised his glass to Ned before draining it completely. “The next one’s all yours.”

  * * * *

  Over two hours, one jazz drag show and five Bee’s Knees later, Ned had had enough. He checked his pocket watch again. It was after midnight, and so far, all they’d managed to do, besides get a bit tipsy, was turn down another man who wished to be whipped by them—albeit a much older one—and they’d individually had several offers between them for various and sundry activities ranging from expert fellating to an invitation to attend a nearby orgy. Not one, however, had come even remotely close to being a young Dominant man who might be ideal for Colin.

  Ned leaned in closer to Aaron to speak—as the clock had advanced, so had the racket. “I don’t think there’s much hope of finding what we’re seeking tonight.”

  Aaron angled toward him. “Or any other night. I don’t know if it’s the show this evening, or what, but even though it’s always been rather free-spirited in here, tonight seems unusually boisterous.”

  “Actually, not really. Not when there’s music. I’ve come here plenty of times when it’s been much worse. But I’m not very hopeful of finding a likely subject either.”

  Aaron creased his brow. “I suppose I used to come here when it was quieter. Sometimes I’d meet Saul for a drink before the later crowds came in.” Aaron nodded. “Yes. I always preferred that, even when I was alone.” A cloud passed over Aaron’s eyes. “Those were dark days for me. I only came out at all due to my own desperation.”

  He shook his head as if driving the melancholy thoughts away. Ned laid his hand on Aaron’s arm.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had troubles in the past.” He let go, taking a healthy swallow of what he intended to be his final drink of the evening. “I’d say that we’re both fortunate to have found and fallen in love with our boys without any outside influences. That’s why I’m afraid we may be on a fool’s errand no matter where we go.”

  Aaron regarded him with a slight grimace. Ned couldn’t imagine what might be paining him so.

  “Is there something about how you and Sam met that was contrived?”

  “No, not how we met.” Aaron gestured to the bartender who was on the other side of the long mahogany counter, pointing to his glass.

  “Oh? Something after?”

  Aaron held up a finger then faced the bar, peeling off a dollar to place on the surface. A moment later, the server presented Aaron with his cocktail. Instead of merely leaning with his back against the counter, he angled himself so that he could hold Ned’s gaze. He gulped a good portion of his drink then set the glass down.

  “In my case, I wouldn’t use the term ‘contrived’. Perhaps ‘encouraged’ would be a better description. I hadn’t been happy for a while, found no joy in anything until I met Sam. Somehow over the years I’d concluded that I was evil, depraved because of my desires. Sam was so young, so innocent. I didn’t want to sully him. Saul reminded me that it was okay to have the urges I do and that Sam needed someone to take care of him. It was the best bit of interference I could’ve ever had.”

  Ned had never heard Aaron’s story before, other than the part where he’d rescued Sam from the bathhouse back before Saul had taken it over and cleaned it up. He’d always wondered how the two men who seemed so completely different on the surface had managed to forge such a beautiful relationship where they complemented each other so well.

  “That’s wonderful that Saul was there for you as a friend. But that’s quite a bit different than manipulating circumstances to bring two men together. I don’t think it’s realistic to hope for such a thing to occur.”

  Aaron raised his eyebrows, his gaze boring into him. “Are you sure about that?”

  Ned inexplicably flushed. The most bizarre of thoughts entered his head that led him to believe that Aaron was making some point as to how he and Evan had gotten together.

  “What are you getting at, Aaron? Am I missing something?”

  Aaron drained the rest of his drink. “Remember the night you brought Colin to the club, the night you realized you’d made a mistake by turning Evan away?”

  Ned shrugged. “Of course I do. But I don’t understand what that has to do with orchestrating a match.”

  “Didn’t you ask Thomas if Evan was there because you thought you’d seen him in the upstairs window? Then when Thomas told you he wasn’t, he suddenly invited you to a lawn party at my home so you could see him then and make amends?” Aaron snorted. “I wish he’d let me in on the whole ruse before he blurted it out to you.”

  The blood seemed to drain from his body as he recalled the evening in question.

  So Evan did see me with Colin. No wonder he was so damn furious.

  “But…why?” The flush came back along with a thread of anger at how he’d been manipulated. “Both Evan and I could’ve been saved a hell of a lot more anguish had we been allowed to speak that night the way I’d wished.”

  Even though the music had stopped, the revelry hadn’t. Ned didn’t appreciate having such a conversation where he was practically shouting in Aaron’s ear.

  “Ned, consider the circumstances. Thomas still felt a measure of responsibility toward Evan since he used to be Thomas’ submissive. Not only that, but Linus had alerted us to the fact that Evan had seen you arrive with Colin. The boy was devastated, had yelled at the other submissives then locked himself in the bathroom. He was in no shape emotionally to speak with you then. Things could’ve gone quite badly—perhaps to the point of not being fixable. Thomas invented the lawn party to give you both time to ponder things, and in Evan’s case, to calm down.”

  Ned let out an exasperated sigh. He could see Aaron’s point. Evan was a spirited man, filled with strong emotions that he had no problem letting out. “I see. I’m not sure how I feel about that bit of information.”

  Aaron clapped him on the shoulder. “It was only done with the best of intentions. We could all see how much you yearned for each other and we’d planned to stay out of it. But on that last night, as Thomas said to me, he couldn’t take it any longer. It was when his boy Linus insisted that he thought you’d both make a perfect couple that Thomas decided to intervene.”

  Ned inhaled, trying to view things from how it must’ve appeared to the men who he’d come to think of as close friends.

  “I hope you’re not upset with us. We only wanted to see you both happy. Are you sorry that we did what we did?”

  Ned scrubbed his face with his hand. Who was he kidding? He wore Evan’s initials burned in his flesh and had his in Evan’s. He couldn’t imagine existing without his boy by him every step of the way. It didn’t matter how he and Evan had resolved their differences. It only mattered that they had and he had no choice but to be grateful for Aaron and Thomas’ interference.

  “Not in the slightest.” He locked gazes with Aaron. “Thank you. Evan is the most important part of my life. I don’t regret anything you did to help us find our path to each other.”

  “Bearing that in mind, perhaps we can come here again on another night and continue our search for Colin’s right man?”

  Ned had to chuckle. “Yes. I think that’s a splendid idea.” Aaron headed for the door and Ned grabbed his sleeve. “But perhaps with fewer Bee’s Knees?”

  Aaron barked out a laugh. “Perhaps. Let’s get out of here before I’m tempted to have another.”

  Chapter Three

  “Ya like it rough, huh?” Roddy’s would-be partner for the night slugged him in the face again and he stumbled back, pitching backward ov
er several aluminum trash cans, the clatter echoing down the alley behind Walter’s speakeasy. He jabbed his finger down at Roddy where he lay sprawled in the dirt and grime of Hollywood.

  “Are ya screwy, is that it?” His attacker glanced around the area. “Where’s ya fuckin’ belt? I’ll show ya how to beat someone so’s they don’t forget it.” He rifled through the clutter on the ground, kicking and shoving the trash cans out of the way, cursing and muttering.

  The enraged man was distracted enough by searching for the leather accessory Roddy had smacked his ass with, that he decided to take the opportunity to high-tail it out of there. He launched himself from the ground, his feet scrabbling under him, then raced away. Infuriated yells from the man roared behind him. Roddy’s only advantage was that his pursuer still had his trousers around his ankles. Roddy might have his own undone and be sans belt, but he was in a much better state to tear about the streets.

  Roddy peered over his shoulder briefly to see if he was being chased. He faced forward again, barreling into a dark haired pedestrian, sending them both crashing to the ground. Someone else jerked him up by his collar before he’d barely had the chance to breathe, the man he’d knocked over frowning as he tried to set himself to rights. Roddy struggled in the hold of whoever it was who’d grabbed him.

  “Unhand me!”

  He twisted his body within the man’s grasp, jerking himself free from the unusually attractive friend of the poor unfortunate whom Roddy had knocked down. He had very light-brown hair, stunning, almost feminine eyes and a perfectly trimmed mustache. The expression on the looker’s face was one of concern, his brow furrowed, mouth parted slightly.

  “My God, you’ve been hurt.”

  The darker-haired one who Roddy had sent careening to the ground grabbed his arm as his friend had done. He had him in his clutches, but instead of slugging him in response—as Roddy had expected—he also seemed quite worried about Roddy’s condition.

  “Uh…” Roddy cleared his throat. “Sorry about the tumble.”

  The darker-haired man spoke. “Did someone rob you? Or did you merely get into a scrap?”

  Reminded that his failed conquest could be upon them in mere seconds, he tried to yank free of the darker-haired gentleman, but he held him fast.

  “Do you need help? We can give you a ride to the hospital. That lip is bleeding badly enough that you might need stitches.”

  Fucking hell. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, hissing as he did. His would-be rescuer was indeed correct. He’d made quite a mess of himself.

  The man with the honey-colored hair spoke as he looked him up and down. “Were you perhaps caught in flagrante? If so, whoever you trysted with didn’t appear amenable to your caresses.”

  Roddy lowered his head to view his ensemble. He was in quite a state of disarray. Between their initial heated encounter followed by an enthusiastic scuffle, he imagined it would appear to an outsider as if he’d been jumped by a gang of thugs.

  “I… You see—”

  Shouts echoed from the end of the alley, drawing closer.

  “Oh fucking hell! We have to get out of here!”

  The two men before him exchanged nods, the darker-haired one running toward a sporty red motorcar. The other one grabbed his shirt sleeve and tugged. “Come on, let’s go!”

  Roddy hesitated, not entirely sure if he wasn’t trading one male attacker for two—even if the pair did seem rather charitable after he’d unceremoniously stampeded over one of them. He gasped at the sight of his pursuer shaking his fist as he careened toward them.

  “There you are! I have your belt, ya sick mug. I’m gonna beat ya with it like ya did to me!”

  Roddy shot forward, his terror driving him on as he yanked his savior with him. They raced for the vehicle then jumped on the runner, not even taking the time to climb inside before the darker-haired man sped off. Roddy’s belt buckle clanged against the side of the Bearcat, his attacker hurling insults at them in addition to the belt.

  “Hang on tight!” the beauty yelled in his ear.

  Perhaps they’d both appreciate a bit of fun once we’ve arrived at whatever destination they’re bringing me to?

  Despite his troubles, he was still anxious for some loveplay. It was a constant urge that plagued him, but his insatiable sexual needs in addition to his desire to control a partner created a challenge. It was bad enough to discreetly seek out a lover of men unless he went to a pansy club, but it was even worse finding one who appreciated his harsher attentions. So far, his method of finding out the hard way had elicited him more split lips and narrow escapes than he would’ve preferred. In addition, he never allowed a man to breach him. He took them—not the other way around.

  If nothing else, we can give each other our hands or mouths. He grunted. In my case, only my hand.

  After a spirited ride, the vehicle slowed. Roddy exhaled on a long breath. It was time to find out if his rescuers were interested in a night’s pleasure. If not, he’d locate a cab and search for a reputable hotel for the night, possibly for the week until he’d figured out his next move. He’d heard that the Ambassador was all the rage. It also housed the Cocoanut Grove nightclub and he imagined he could enjoy a bit of frolic there as well.

  Roddy hopped off the runner right after his fellow rider did and at the same time as the dark-haired driver exited the vehicle. Roddy smoothed down his hair the best he could, then winced as he swiped at his mouth. It occurred to him that he didn’t paint the most appealing of pictures to the two handsome men.

  “Well.” The driver considered him. “That was interesting.” He held out his hand to Roddy, shaking it as he introduced himself. “My name is Aaron Rubenstein.” He gestured to his running board companion. “And this is Ned Wilkinson.”

  Roddy took Ned’s hand, eyeing him subtly before letting go. Mmm. Yes. “And I’m Roderick Howard, but all my friends call me Roddy.”

  Aaron raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk. “Are you inviting us to call you Roddy then?”

  Roddy let out an easy laugh. “Why, of course! Since you just saved me from an almost certain thrashing.”

  Ned considered him. “You seem a bit thrashed already, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “Not at all.” Roddy included them both in his next remarks. “I feel as if I owe you fine gentleman an explanation.” Judging from his rescuers’ clothing and the vehicle they drove, neither of them suffered from any financial hardships. “I…”

  Roddy was almost certain they preferred men for their sexual dalliances. It’d been a while since he’d last been at Walter’s, but they’d been congregating in the area where patrons of the speakeasy typically parked. He’d actually assumed that they were a couple. Still…

  He chuckled uneasily. “Let’s just say that I met someone at a juke joint who wasn’t interested in pursuing the same enjoyments as me.”

  Aaron and Ned exchanged glances. Aaron cleared his throat.

  “The juke joint that belongs to Walter?”

  Roddy almost sighed out loud, relieved that they didn’t need to be coy about at least one thing anymore. The second part he’d still need to tread carefully on. “Why yes. The band was quite delightful this evening, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Aaron’s smile went to his eyes and he turned to Ned with a nod.

  Ah. It would seem they are interested in a bit of fun after all.

  Ned regarded him. “I couldn’t help but overhear your attacker yell out that you’d beaten him?”

  Ned lifted the cuff of his sleeve, exposing a strip of leather tied around his wrist. The symbol of an ‘X’ had been burned into it. It seemed to be a crude item for the obviously wealthy man to be wearing, so he was certain there was some sort of hidden meaning to it. Roddy leaned in closer, peering at it intently.

  “What is that?”

  “My friend, Aaron and I are Dominants. We prefer the company of compliant men who enjoy giving themselves over to our will. Usually, the men who allow us t
o take them also crave pain with their pleasure, being restrained or ordered to satisfy us, among other delicious activities. This”—Ned pointed at the crude piece of jewelry—“is how we discreetly share what our interests are in order to find willing partners.”

  Roddy inhaled on a sharp gasp. “Dear God.” It made him hard just thinking about such a brilliant idea. “Are you on the level?”

  Both Ned and Aaron laughed, but he didn’t take it that they were directing it at him. They almost seemed relieved. He thought he understood what it might be. Since attracting the right partners had been such a horrible struggle for him, he had no doubt they’d been through the same thing in the past—which had then inspired the use of the bracelets. Aaron and Ned would understand him. Understand his overpowering need.

  “Yes, dear fellow.” Aaron grasped his shoulder. “We are.” Aaron let go, but continued to study him, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. “I take it that this is of interest to you?”

  “Indeed!” Roddy could barely contain himself, he had so many questions. “So what does the ‘X’ signify on the bracelet?”

  “That means that Aaron and I are Dominant men—that we’re seeking a submissive man to play with.”

  Roddy thought he’d faint from the thrill of it all. “And how could I tell if a gentleman was submissive?”

  “Then his bracelet would have an ‘O’ burned into it.”

  Roddy mulled the bit of information over in his head. “Ah, I see. In other words, that gentleman prefers to receive the attentions rather than to give them.” Roddy grinned. “Then if I were to wear one of those bracelets, it would have to be marked with an ‘X’.”

  Aaron grinned back. “We were hoping that’s what you’d say.”

  Roddy tilted his head. “Oh? I would think you’d prefer the opposite.”

  Ned chimed in. “Do you mind me asking how old you are?”