by Luna, David
“You could have called me regardless. I could have helped you make necessary arrangements. But I guess that’s neither here nor there. If you feel that we would be compatible, at least from the standpoint of a standard contract, I’m willing to discuss things with you both.”
They made arrangements for the following night and spent a couple minutes catching up. Finally, at ease once again, Gideon thanked his old friend and hung up the phone.
SEBASTIAN HAD MOSTLY RECOVERED FROM that weekend’s ordeal and could finally sit on his ass without being in too much pain. When Monday came around, he’d made his way back to the hospital yet again, for another composite sketch. When he was done, he had some spare time and called Braden to see if he could stop by to see him at work. When he got off the phone, he couldn’t help but smile. Braden’s enthusiasm was contagious.
The Sugar n’ Spice Café was an eclectic mix of relaxed chic and trendy hipster. Sebastian walked through the doors without a preconceived idea of what he’d find and fell in love with the atmosphere immediately. His friend Zoe was a barista for the café, but he’d never known Braden was a co-owner. The room was long and narrow with the counter and pastry cases running down the right side.
The smell of the place was ambrosia to his senses, he could nearly taste it. There was the coffee, of course, but he could also smell some fruity teas. But best of all it smelled like what you’d hope the world’s best grandmother’s kitchen would smell like: flour, sugar, butter, chocolate, cinnamon, and vanilla.
He approached the counter and jumped when he heard a strange sort of growling yawn and looked towards the window where a huge dog bed was set up with the name Thor on it, on top of which sat a gorgeous German shepherd that was, in fact, yawning. Upon further inspection, he saw the dog had a service vest on, with a tag on it that read, “Please, do not pet me. I’m a service dog and I’m working.”
Wow, how cool was that? He grinned as he watched the dog bite a little at his foreleg as if gnawing at an itch, and then he rolled to the side to grab a huge red rubber toy of some sort in his teeth, emitting some happy growly noises as if he was talking to the toy while he was chewing it. Sebastian found himself laughing, as he imagined what the dog was saying. “Hello, toy. You are mine. I’m going to eat you. You taste good. Nom nom nom.”
Shaking his head at himself, Sebastian moved to the counter, feeling a bit self-conscious. The grin Maya gave him was welcoming and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hi, how can I help you?”
“Uh, Braden said—”
Maya’s smile got bigger, if that was possible. “Sebastian?”
Sebastian nodded. “Yes.”
“Want something to drink?”
“Uh, yeah.” Sebastian reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.
Maya shook her head. “Nope. No charge. What can I getcha?”
“Oh, no. Please let me pay.” He held his card out to her.
She shook her head no again and replied, “Nope. Your money’s no good here. You’ve helped Braden and Nana. Please, it’s just some coffee. What can we make for you?”
Sebastian could feel his face heating up and a warm feeling lodged itself in his chest. “Uh, okay, thanks.” He glanced up at the handwritten chalkboard menu with its beautiful cursive scripted concoctions written in chalk paint in various colors, trying to find what he wanted. “Do you have a caramel mocha?”
“Yep, salted caramel mocha. I’ll get that going for you and bring it back. You can get whatever treats you want in the kitchen.”
Sebastian’s brows rose. “In the back?”
Maya smiled and pointed to the end of the counter. “Yep. Come on around the counter there and go right through the swinging door behind me. You’ll find Braden in the middle of a batch of snickerdoodles.”
Sebastian headed the way she’d indicated, nervous suddenly. He’d assumed that Braden would come out to chat with him for a bit and that would be that. Heading back into the kitchen felt more familiar than they were and his nerves were making themselves known.
He wiped his hands on his pant legs as he walked through the swinging door. He found Braden, earbuds in his ears, the cord trailing down his back, connected to the phone in his back pocket, just like he did at his tattoo studio. Not wanting to surprise him, Sebastian stayed off to the side until he was within Braden’s eyeline. When Braden looked up, Sebastian waved self-consciously.
The grin that spread over the other man’s face went a long way towards settling his nerves and he watched as Braden pulled the buds from his ears, letting them drape over his shoulders. He wiped his hands on a towel, took his apron off and tossed it into a bin by the door. Sebastian didn’t know what to make of the hug he found himself in until Braden spoke up, “Are you all right?”
Pulling away, his face now aflame, his posture became defensive as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was at that awkward moment that Maya came in the back carrying his mocha. She took one look at them both—eyebrows raised in surprise—set the coffee down on the countertop and backed away, nodding at Sebastian’s word of thanks. When he turned back toward Braden he was sure his expression was pained. “So, you saw it too?”
Braden’s brows drew together. “Saw what?”
“The video of what happened.”
Braden started shaking his head and when his eyes got comically big, Sebastian relaxed a bit. “God, no! No, Sebastian. Zavier would never do that. We were just heading to bed when the call came in from downstairs. All I knew was that someone at the club had gotten assaulted. He left immediately and came home hours later, looking so upset I pried your name out of him, but nothing else.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess.”
“Sebastian, he was worried about you. So was Gideon, and so am I. That’s all.”
Perplexed, Sebastian asked the first thing that came to his mind. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why was everyone worried about me?”
“What…” Braden looked as confused as he felt. “Why wouldn’t we be? You were roofied and assaulted, Sebastian.”
Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Sebastian stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But you don’t know me.”
“I’d like to. You’re here, right? I know you enough to know that I wouldn’t want something to happen to you and feel worried about you when it does.”
Sebastian didn’t understand that last part, and his face must have shown it because Braden continued, “Look. I had hoped that you’d call. I was excited today when you did. We seemed to get along the couple times we’ve met and I’d kind of hoped we’d become friends.”
“You did?”
“Yes! Why do you sound so surprised?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t really make friends very easily. Or at all, really.”
“You don’t have friends?”
Sebastian shrugged again. “Not really. I mean, ironically, I’m friends with Zoe, your barista, but that’s kind of it.”
“Zoe’s great, she’s one of my favorite people. Look, I’m glad you’re here, it’s as simple as that. I hope we can become friends, if we get along as well as I think we will. Does that work for you?”
He found himself nodding. “Yeah. That works for me.”
Braden smiled. “Yeah?”
Sebastian laughed. “Yeah.”
“Awesome. Okay, I’m at a good stopping point so I can take a break. Let’s head into the break room and chat for a bit. You said you had some questions for me. But before that, what can I get you? We have scones, cookies, croissants, cinnamon buns, and muffins. You name it, we probably have it, so pick your poison.”
Sebastian laughed again, and feeling sort of light and happy suddenly, decided to go for decadence. “I want a huge cinnamon bun.”
Braden laughed as well and they both smiled at each other. “Warm and extra gooey?”
Nodding, Sebastian agreed, “Oh yeah.”
Braden got to work and th
e next thing Sebastian knew he was fast approaching a sugar coma in the break room of the café and couldn’t for the life of him remember a time he’d felt so carefree. While they both drank their coffee, and he indulged in the sticky sugary confection that he’d probably never recover from, they chatted and began to establish the beginnings of the friendship that they’d both been hoping for. Their conversation hovered around the safe and simple at first; their daily routines, how Nana was doing, Braden and Zavier’s wedding, and the café. But finally they came to the reason for his visit, the McCades.
GIDEON WAS JUST ABOUT TO head to the front of the house when he heard Boone approaching. Sitting on the bench at the end of the bed he watched as Boone entered the room. When the man’s eyes finally reached his, Gideon opened his legs wide and waited. Boone’s eyes drifted closed on a relieved sigh and he settled into resting pose, tucked between Gideon’s legs.
Leaning slightly forward, he cocooned Boone with his bulk. “I’m sorry I didn’t check to make sure that you were taken care of when I left.”
When Boone began frantically shaking his head no, Gideon’s clasped it in both hands, tilting Boone’s head back so that he was looking directly up at him. Their faces were mere inches apart, ensuring the sub’s eyes stayed on his.
The sadness on Boone’s face wrenched at Gideon’s heart. “Ours wasn’t a love match, but you know I cared for you deeply. Your pragmatic reaction to my leaving the job and ending our contract convinced me there wouldn’t be any issues and that you’d utilize the resources I set out for you when I left.”
“Permission to speak, Sir.”
“Granted.”
“I’m fine. Truly. When the contract ended, I was no longer your responsibility.”
“Ending the contract wasn’t a mutual decision. When I wanted out of the job, I should have left it and stayed with you until you were fully settled, until we were both in agreement about the contract ending, rather than me advising you it was over.”
“It was your prerogative, Sir. It was stated in the contract that either party could cancel the contract at any time. I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”
“You’ve proven that. Your home is beautiful. You’ve gotten the promotion you wanted.”
“How do you—”
He shook his head and Boone quieted. “Clearly you’re able to take care of yourself. But, Boone, in so many ways you’re not living, you’re existing. You’re a man that needs to serve and you’ve taken no steps towards finding someone to kneel for.”
“It’s not as easy as all that. I—”
Gideon interrupted. “Hush now. I’ve already made a call.” When Boone’s head began another frantic shake, Gideon’s hands tightened on the man’s head. “Settle.”
The stern command, though spoken quietly, did its job. The man stilled and calmed immediately. “Have I damaged you so much that you’ve lost your trust in me to take care of your needs?”
Boone closed his eyes and then slowly opened them. “No, Sir. I trust you.”
Gideon leaned forward and kissed Boone’s forehead. “His name is Connell. I trust the man with my life. I’ll entrust you to his care. I’ll be asking you to give the gift of your submission to him. If things between you don’t work out as I think they will, I’ll ask that he takes on the responsibility of ensuring that until he finds someone you’ll be happy to serve, he will act as your Dom. Do you understand?”
“But what if he demands—”
“Pet, he works for the Secret Service. He’ll be unable to share the details of his job, just as you are unable to share the details of yours. He’ll make no such demands. He doesn’t know you work for the CIA, let alone what division you work for. What you both speak of, about your respective careers, is up to you.”
Shaking his head again, Boone tried to argue. “But…”
“Boone, think carefully on this before you answer. Are you scared or are you telling me no?”
Boone took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m scared, Sir.”
Gideon nodded, proud of the sub. “The decision is made. He’ll be here for dinner tomorrow evening at seven p.m. If you must go in tomorrow, you’ll be home at five p.m. to ensure you’re ready. Understood?”
“I might need to stay—”
“Working twelve or more hours a day is over, pet. You’ll be getting out the contract we signed years ago. He’ll understand the agreement we once had. The rules you adhered to then, you will most likely adhere to again. And if what I remember about Connell holds true, the rules may be even more strict.”
Rather than the slumped shoulders Gideon expected, he was rewarded with the sub raising his head, stiffening his spine, and straightening his shoulders. It was as if Gideon’s words relieved him of a burden weighing him down. Boone’s face was more serene than he’d seen it since the moment Gideon had walked into Zavier’s office at Custos, a couple months back and found Boone there. The man was nearly buzzing with renewed energy.
“Yes, Sir.”
Smiling, Gideon gave permission for him to react freely. “Relax, pet.”
A smile spread across the sub’s face as he slowly wrapped his arms around Gideon’s waist and laid his cheek against his chest. Relaxing into the hug, Gideon wrapped his arms around the sub and whispered in his ear. “Proud of you. I’m sorry you’ve been struggling. I won’t leave until I see you settled with Connell. I’m going to make a demand, however, and it’s very important there are no prevarications.”
Pulling away from Gideon, Boone nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“If things don’t work out with Connell, you will allow him to fulfill his obligation to me and to you, by finding you someone suitable. Is that understood?”
“It’s not that bad, Sir.”
Gideon narrowed his eyes. “You’ve lost weight, Boone. Your skin looks sallow, your eyes shadowed. Perhaps you’re allowing yourself a good solid meal for dinner, but I’m guessing breakfast and lunch are hit or miss. You’re not sleeping well and I’d be willing to bet even the sleeping pills on your bathroom counter aren’t working their magic. You’re working yourself to death and your OCD is rearing its ugly head.”
“I just get overwhelmed and making sure everything is in its place makes me feel some measure of control.”
Cupping Boone’s chin in his hand, Gideon tilted his head back up. “I know, pet. But though this house is beautiful, you’ve not made it yours. Where are your knick-knacks, your framed photos and artwork? I know how important those things are to you.”
Boone sat back on his heels and rubbed his hands over his face. He composed himself and moved back into resting pose. “I haven’t had the energy.”
“We’re going to change that. Right now, I want you to quickly clean up after our meals and get yourself showered and more comfortable so that we can get some business out of the way.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When Boone was done with his shower and had himself redressed in comfortable clothes, he got down on his knees beside the bed, waiting for further instruction. Now that the awkwardness of his switch to submissive mode was gone, his need to please was enormous. Gideon almost hated bringing him out of his submission to talk business, but it couldn’t be helped. What he could do, however, was make sure that Boone knew that he would be well taken care of going forward.
“WHAT KIND OF MAN IS Gideon?” Sebastian knew he wasn’t being subtle, but he figured he shouldn’t beat around the bush and act coy about his desire to know more before he signed a contract with the powerful Dom.
Braden contemplated him for a moment and then quirked a soft little smile. “That’s a relatively simple question for a fairly complex man. I don’t know a lot of the fine details. Nobody does, really. He keeps himself separate, distanced. Yet, for all of that detachment, he attends every family function if he’s not traveling. He doesn’t talk a lot but I get the feeling that he listens to everything and sees more than most.”
Sebastian pulled his feet up o
n the chair, placing his crossed arms on top of his knees, he rested his chin on them and admitted, “I haven’t signed a contract with a Dom in a really long time. I’ve had a total of two conversations with Gideon and he’s asking me to sign a contract with him.”
Braden smiled. “And that makes you nervous?”
Sebastian shrugged. “In a way, it does, but not for the reasons you’d expect. I’m nervous that I’ll fail him. I’m nervous that I’m not good enough. And I’m nervous that I’m not nervous about him.”
Braden’s eyes popped wide in surprise. “He doesn’t make you nervous?”
Sebastian shook his head and replied, “No. His voice calms me and the few times he’s touched me, it felt the same. I know it sounds weird, but when he uses his Dom voice, it’s like everything in me stills. I can’t explain it.”
“No, you’re explaining it perfectly,” Braden chuckled. “That’s exactly how it feels when Zavier does that with me.”
A thought occurred to Sebastian and he voiced it before he could think better of it. “So, Zavier is your Dom? Are you members of Catharsis?”
Braden shrugged. “I don’t really think of him as my Dom.” He blushed and continued, “I mean, he dominates me, so I guess he is, right? But it’s nothing formal, just the roles we fall into. We don’t want a contract between us, we just do what feels natural. We haven’t known for very long that Gideon owns Catharsis, but since we found out, Zavier and I have discussed joining.”
Sebastian smiled knowingly and nudged Braden’s knee with his foot. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s great. And to be honest, I’ve heard Zavier speak to you and the way you react to him. He uses the same tone as Gideon does when he’s being toppy, so I kind of wondered.”
“I guess I’m kind of intrigued with the idea of the club and what it’s like there, but I don’t know that I’m ready to scene in front of others or if I’ll ever be ready for that.”
“You don’t have to scene in front of others, there’s a lot of private rooms. I’ve never been to a club quite like it. He’s kind of turned the typical dungeon type of club on its head and really made it more of an experience, a place for anyone to feel at home, whatever their kinks. Have you been there to check it out?”
