A Dom and His Writer

by Xenia Melzer

  There was no Dean.

  An eerie silence hung in the air, one that put Richard on high alert. Something was wrong. This was not the content atmosphere generated by Dean working. Dropping his suitcase, he marched into the wide living area.

  “Dean? Boy! Where are you?”

  Richard felt panic tighten his chest. Dean not being where he was supposed to be was bad. It meant something had happened. He quickly searched the other rooms in the apartment before he came back to the living room.

  Just when Richard was ready to call the police, he saw movement on the veranda. He rushed outside, where he found Dean curled up in one of the lounges, a blanket wrapped around his body despite the warmth of the Floridian evening.

  “Dean! My God, what’s happened? Are you all right?”

  Any idea about a scene vanished from Richard’s mind. His boy was in no shape to do anything, that much was obvious.

  Dean slowly lifted his head. Dark circles under his eyes dominated his pale face, his hair hung ragged, his eyes were bloodshot. He had a death grip on his cell phone, and the way he looked at Richard made him shiver.

  “She’s dead. Tricia. She’s dead.”

  There was so much pain in those words, so much hurt and loss. Richard felt it as well. He had always liked Tricia, not only because she was Dean’s sister, but also because she was a fascinating person, almost as dominant as himself.

  Dean and Tricia had also been exceptionally close, something that had fueled Richard’s jealousy more than once at the beginning of their relationship. He could only imagine how the news must devastate Dean.

  “What happened?” Richard sat down next to Dean and pulled him close, knowing how much better his boy did when he had this kind of bodily reassurance.

  “Yesterday a lawyer called me. She said she had my number from Tricia and insisted on a meeting. She came by and told me. It was a car accident. She… oh my God, Richard, she’s gone!”

  Dean started sobbing. Given how raw his voice sounded, he hadn’t been doing much else during the night. Richard held him close, making soothing sounds at the back of his throat, trying to pour his strength and comfort into his lover. After an eternity the sobbing finally eased. Dean snuggled even closer to Richard, inhaling his scent.

  “There’s more.”

  Richard caressed Dean’s head. There was always more. “What is it, boy? Tell me, so I can handle it for you.”

  The words didn’t fail to put Dean more at ease. “Tricia has a daughter. A three-month-old. She’s called Emily.” Dean hesitated a moment. “Tricia appointed me as Emily’s guardian in her will.”

  Richard tensed. This was indeed more. More than he thought he could handle. Guardian for a baby? He had never thought about having children; they were something that happened to other people, people willing to give their lives up for those tiny harbingers of chaos and destruction.

  He and Dean had a perfect life, with fulfilling, time-consuming jobs and an even more fulfilling lifestyle, kinky hot sex included. They most definitely had no room for a child. They didn’t know anything about children. And weren’t you supposed to take care of a kitten first?

  His thoughts jumbled, something Richard wasn’t used to. He was always in control. Always. It was part of who he was. Nothing could surprise him. And Dean needed him. Relied on him. Freaking out was not an option.

  “Do you want to see her?” Dean held up his cell tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure how Richard would react. Richard managed a nod. He was still thunderstruck.

  Dean fumbled with his phone and then shoved it under Richard’s nose. There was a blurry picture of something very pink against the background of a boring gray waiting room.

  “Umm, nice?” Richard didn’t know what Dean expected of him. He didn’t even know what he expected of himself, and that made him cranky. Dean’s obvious fascination with the little pink bundle made it worse.

  “Isn’t she beautiful? Elisa, the lawyer, said she’ll come by with her tomorrow. I just wish Tricia would be the one introducing her to me. Well, at least I’ll get to see my niece for the first time.”

  Richard hated to break Dean from his bittersweet place. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, boy. We obviously can’t keep her, so why don’t you spare yourself the added pain?”

  The moment he ended the sentence, Richard knew he’d made a mistake. Dean grew stiff in his arms before he slipped from Richard’s grasp.

  “What do you mean, we can’t keep her? She’s my niece. She’s all that’s left of Tricia, and my sister trusted me with her care. How can you even suggest sending her away?”

  Dean was getting agitated. He could rarely muster the energy to work himself so up, but when he did, it meant Richard stood no chance.

  Dean could be surprisingly stubborn when he wanted to. Now was not the time to upset his boy even more. Now was the time to make a tactical retreat and offer Dean the support he needed. They could talk about it once they both had time to clear their thoughts. Richard was convinced it wouldn’t take Dean long to realize how impossible it was for them to take care of a baby. Once the harsh reality hit him, he would see reason. With all their money, they could buy Emily the future she deserved without getting too involved.

  “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to be—thoughtless. But you’re very upset at the moment. I’m afraid seeing that baby is going to make it worse.”

  Dean’s features softened a bit. He leaned back into Richard’s touch, clearly needing the reassurance. “Her name is Emily, not ‘that baby.’ And, yes, you’re right. I’m deeply shaken. Losing Tricia was never an option in my head. Aside from you, she was the only constant in my life, my pillar of support. I feel like half my life has turned to ashes, leaving only emptiness. I’ve lost my ground, and I need you more than ever.”

  “Don’t worry, Dean. I have you. Always. I promise. Now how about we go and take a nice hot bath together? I can try to relax you a bit, and then we can order your favorite from Mamma’s. Allow me to take care of you.”

  As predicted by Richard, Dean melted upon hearing those words, spoken in his best Dom tone. “Thank you, Master.”

  RICHARD LED Dean to their spacious bathroom with the walk-in shower and the gigantic tub that doubled as a Jacuzzi. He sat Dean down on the toilet seat before he started to run hot water in the tub.

  After a short hesitation, he selected a lavender bathing oil he had brought home from a visit to France. While he poured a generous amount into the whirling water, he contemplated commenting on the cock cage and vibrator lying abandoned on the floor, but decided against it. He wasn’t even sure if he would punish Dean for taking them out without permission. In light of what had happened, their little game seemed almost shallow.

  “I’m sorry I took it off.”

  Dean had followed his gaze and drawn the right conclusion. Richard turned to his boy, his lover of five years, and brushed his lips in a chaste kiss. “Don’t worry, boy. You had good reason. I would never punish you for that.”

  As if Richard’s words had taken a great portion of tension out of his body, Dean sagged. Richard pulled him close. “You have to get undressed, my love.”

  Dean followed the instruction with tired, jerky movements that told Richard louder than words how exhausted his boy was.

  When Dean was naked, Richard guided him to the tub. He slid out of his own clothes, stepped in first, and helped Dean. They sat down, Dean cradled against Richard’s broad chest. As the heat of the water started to seep into them, Richard could feel Dean relaxing more and more. His head lolled to the side, his breathing deepened, and then he was fast asleep.

  Only when the water started turning cold did Richard reluctantly wake his sleeping boy. Dean desperately needed the rest. What he didn’t need, though, was getting sick.

  Richard toweled him dry as quickly as possible before he tucked him under the covers of their king-size bed. Dean never fully woke from his exhausted slumber.

  When Richard slid in next to him, he
cuddled close, made a content little noise in the back of his throat, and started softly snoring again. It took a little longer for Richard to find the same peace.

  Too much had happened in the last few hours for him to just let go.

  Chapter 9

  THE NEXT morning, Richard woke to the intoxicating smell of fresh coffee. Dean was kneeling next to the bed, the tray with both their breakfast on the nightstand. He looked better, refreshed. There were still lines around his eyes that spoke of the emotional pain he was suffering, but his complexion had changed from ghastly back to a healthier coloring.

  “Good morning, boy. Thank you for breakfast.”

  “Good morning to you too, Master. You’re welcome.”

  Richard reached for his cup to take that first life-giving sip that woke him all the way up. After he had savored the strong flavor for a few moments, he put his own cup away, took Dean’s, and held it to his boy’s lips. Dean made an appreciative noise as he gulped. Good boy that he was, Richard knew he hadn’t touched anything, neither food nor drink, before bringing the tray to his Dom.

  It was not that he wasn’t allowed to. Since Dean often forgot to sustain himself when he was engrossed in his writing, Richard even encouraged him to eat whenever he felt an inkling of hunger. Breakfast was a little different, though. It was part of their bonding routine, something that helped them both focus for the day. Not to mention that feeding Dean led to more carnal delights on a regular basis. It wasn’t something either of them wanted to miss.

  The carnal delights, though, had to wait for another day. As much as Richard wanted things to go back to normal, as much as he wanted to distract Dean, show him how good their life as a couple was, it wasn’t what his boy needed right now.

  Richard put the mug down and helped Dean climb into bed. They had their breakfast in silence. Only when they had both finished did Richard speak. “So, what is the plan for today?”

  Dean fidgeted a little. “I wanted to call Peyton, to see if he can come over. If Emily stays here, she needs a nursery. Then there’s all the stuff we’re going to need. Clothes, diapers, formula. Perhaps it’s a good idea to look for a competent nanny to help us in the beginning. I was also thinking about taking a parenting course, although, if we do find an experienced nanny, that may be unnecessary, since he or she could teach us.”

  Richard had to admit he was impressed. That sounded suspiciously like a well-thought plan, something that never came easily to Dean. He also noted the tentative use of “we” when Dean spoke.

  His boy was unsure.

  Given Dean’s reaction the other day, Richard knew better than to push him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t leave him hanging, though. If Dean seriously wanted this, it was better if he found out immediately how stressful having a small child could be.

  “Sounds like a solid plan, boy. I’ll be out most of the day. I have a few things I need to catch up with. Just text me when the lawyer comes with your niece.”

  When he saw the defeated expression on Dean’s face, Richard felt like a monster. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but they had been together long enough that Dean could read between the lines.

  Richard didn’t want a child, and he was leaving it to Dean. In other words, he was being an insensitive, cruel prick. Richard knew that. He just couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stand there and watch Dean try to fit a baby into their life. Richard wasn’t sure if he could keep his mouth shut if he stayed, and the last thing he wanted was a fight with Dean. At least not a full-on fight. The passive-aggressive approach would have to do for the moment.

  Richard told himself that if Dean had shown signs that he was still too upset about Tricia’s death to be left alone this morning, he would have agreed to stay. It sounded like a lame excuse even to his own ears, but he was determined to stick with it. Dean wanted the child; let him deal with the ramifications. And Dean wouldn’t be alone, strictly speaking. He would be talking to a lot of people and have Peyton over to look at the future nursery.

  It was obvious Dean had put his focus on Emily, which was a good thing concerning his grief about Tricia’s death, and rather inconvenient regarding Richard’s plans to stop a baby from invading their lives.

  Dean just nodded, trying to hide his anguish. “As you wish, Master. I’d better start working, then.”

  Richard watched Dean leave the bedroom to take the tray with their empty mugs and cereal bowls back to the kitchen. He felt the urge to go after his boy, wrap him in his arms, and make it all right, but he had to stay strong.

  To keep their perfect, happy life, Dean had to return to reality. And fast. With a sigh, Richard got up from the bed, showered, and dressed before he left the apartment. He blew a kiss to Dean, who was already talking on the phone, most probably with Peyton. Well, that wasn’t his problem, though, was it? He would allow Dean to engage in this foolishness and then be there to catch his boy once he realized the impossibility of raising a child.

  FROM THE corner of his eye, Dean saw Richard leave.

  He felt like a block of ice was suddenly growing in his stomach. Obviously, his Dom didn’t want Emily. Dean felt as if his heart was torn apart. His love for Richard fought with his instinct to protect the little family he still had. Even though he hadn’t met her yet, his feelings for Emily won over his need to placate his lover.

  Richard would come around. Once he met Emily, he would surely see how much she needed both of them, and then he would do his Dom thing, and they would become a happy little family. Until then, there was enough stuff he had to take care of. Peyton was still bitching about how early he had called him.

  “Do you know when I last got up at seven thirty in the morning? No? Because even I can’t remember! This is way too early. How can you even dial at such an ungodly hour?”

  Dean felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Despite everything that had happened, Peyton’s easygoing banter managed to lighten his mood. When his friend paused to take in some much-needed oxygen, Dean intercepted smoothly.

  “I’m terribly sorry for inconveniencing you. A lot has happened, and I really need your help.”

  “What’s going on?”

  And that was the other thing about Peyton. When his friends were in need, he dropped everything to help them out.

  Dean quickly told him about Tricia’s death, which caused Peyton to sob. He and Tricia had known each other. When Dean came to the part about being the guardian of a three-month-old now, Peyton couldn’t decide whether to keep on crying or start laughing. He did both, and Dean had to hold his phone at arm’s length to prevent his eardrums from exploding. When the snorting sounds finally ceased, he deemed it safe to put it back to his ear.

  “Are you done?”

  “Not quite, but I’m working on it. I mean, you have to admit, it is an interesting idea. Do you think Richard’s going to buy leather rattles? Is there such a thing as a black pacifier?”

  Dean winced. “Richard is not yet on board with the idea.”

  “Of course not. Richard loves his freedom, and children are like lead weights on your ankles.”

  Peyton sounded matter-of-fact. He was usually dead-on when it came to judging people, and Dean wondered if his estimate of Richard bode well for their future with Emily. A little annoyed with himself, he shoved that disturbing thought to the back of his mind. He did not have time for speculation.

  “Lead weight or not, I still need you to plan and furnish the nursery for me.”

  “You—what? Dean, honey, you’re aware I don’t do icky family stuff, aren’t you? I’m a prize-winning interior designer and sought-after adult playroom genius. The total amount of nurseries I’ve done is zero.”

  Dean chuckled. “I know how good you are with playrooms for grown-ups. This could be a new experience for you. Something to add to your list of achievements. Designer of children’s rooms.”

  Dean was only half joking. For one, because Peyton was right about himself. He was a damn genius when it came to interior design
and BDSM playrooms. Even though he wasn’t into the lifestyle himself, he just knew how to build the perfect room for pain. And second, because he desperately needed somebody to help him with the nursery.

  “Peyton, please. I give you free rein. Just make it so that an official from the Child Welfare office can’t find anything to object to. Please!”

  A huff at the other end of the line told Dean he had won.

  “Fine. I’ll see it as a challenge. That second guest room next to your bathroom is still free, isn’t it? I’ll get the blueprints and start planning. I bet there are tons of things to take into consideration when designing for a child, so give me a few hours.”

  “Thank you so much, Peyton! You are a lifesaver.”

  Another huff, already distracted. Once Peyton got going, he was almost impossible to stop. “You owe me, honey. Big-time. ’Bye.”

  Dean breathed a sigh of relief. It had felt strange to talk to Peyton about Tricia’s death, as if telling his friend somehow made it real. Or more real. When he didn’t say it out loud, he could still stash the fact away in some corner of his brain and pretend the accident hadn’t happened. Talking about it meant acknowledging a truth he wasn’t prepared for. Dean closed his eyes and tried to get back the numb feeling that had permeated his entire body and shut down his thoughts since he’d first heard about Tricia’s death. He couldn’t wallow in pain; he had things to do. Emily needed him. Dean was an intelligent man, and he recognized a stalling technique when he saw one. He just didn’t know what else he could do. His only hope was that once the business with Emily was taken care of, enough time would have passed for him to no longer feel the terrible sting in his heart whenever he thought of his sister.

  There was no way he could face the truth in his current state, and so he threw himself into work.

  The nursery was taken care of. What he needed now was professional help regarding the proper care of a child. He fired up his laptop and typed in “nanny service.”