by K. C. Wells
Heath folded his arms and cleared his throat. “Someone not a million miles away promised me breakfast. You’re not put off by a little bit of rain, are you?” Just then the heavens opened in a fresh deluge.
“That depends how far we’re walking.” Xavier glanced at the skies. “Can we take a taxi?”
The memory of a sleepless night prodded Heath, and he pasted on a sweet smile. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to walk. I enjoy the rain. I know it’s weird, but—”
“Okay. Nothing wrong with enjoying the rain.” Xavier turned and waved at someone. Heath peered out and saw a departing taxi. His resolve to punish Xavier for his troubled sleep faltered at Xavier’s willingness to walk in the rain with him.
“So, where’s this coffee shop?”
Heath grabbed an umbrella from the stand beside the door and handed it to Xavier while he locked up. “Not far. I usually start my Sundays there.” He reached out and brushed some droplets of water from Xavier’s cheek. “You look nice, by the way.” The smile he’d tried so hard to hold back couldn’t be contained. “A bit drowned, but nice.”
Xavier’s rueful stare melted into a warmer glance. “So do you.” He jerked his head. “Come on. Let’s go before I get a chill.” He held the umbrella up, high enough that Heath could get under it too, and they set off along the street.
The rain had slowed but was still coming down hard enough that people scurried to get out of it. Heath loved the way the streets smelled after the rain. The scent of baked goods wafted through the air, pumped out into the street, causing Heath’s stomach to rumble.
“Hungry?”
Damn. “Sorry.”
“You’re allowed to be hungry. It’s still early.” Xavier inhaled deeply, then sighed. “I love the smell of fresh bread. It reminds me of being a kid. Mum would bake it, and then me and my brother would always argue over who got the crust. It was… nice.”
It was the first personal detail that Xavier had ever shared. “Do you still see your family?”
Xavier chuckled. “Probably more than most people would like.” He held up a hand. “I’m kidding. My family is amazing. They always support me, no matter how badly I screw up. And before you ask, that’s all I’m going to say on that subject.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.” Which was a lie, but it was clear Xavier didn’t want to talk about it. “Anyway, we’re here.” He gestured to the faux-brick exterior of Roasted Beans. “It’s a nice place, the coffee is good, and the service is…. Well, the coffee is good.”
Xavier’s chuckle warmed Heath. “I’ll consider myself warned.” He pulled open the door, allowing Heath to lead the way. He’s such a gentleman.
As they entered, Heath noted Daria’s strident voice calling for number forty-two. He caught Xavier’s glance.
“What would you like?”
“Oh, just a coffee, I think.” Xavier inhaled deeply. “And a croissant. And maybe a pain au chocolat if they have one.”
Heath grinned. “Anything else? A toasted teacake or a muffin? Crumpets?”
Xavier merely arched his eyebrows. “A croissant and a pain au chocolat will be plenty.” He reached into his damp coat pocket, but Heath stopped his hand.
“Go find a seat, and I’ll place our order.”
“But—”
“You bought dinner, so this one is on me. Besides, I made you walk here in the rain. That deserves a reward.”
“Well, when you put it like that….” Xavier chuckled. “I’m seeing a bossy side to you, one you’ve managed to keep hidden so far.” He gestured to the interior of the shop. “Anywhere in particular you’d like to sit?”
“Normally I try to sit by the window so I can people-watch, but really, anywhere is fine.” It wasn’t as if the place was busy—the weather had seen to that. Heath waited until Xavier had found a table before giving Daria his attention.
“Morning, Heath. What can I get you?”
He repeated the items, and a wicked grin crossed her lips.
“Is that for you and the hottie?”
Heath snickered. “Well, there’s something I never knew. You and I have a similar taste in men.” When she gave him a puzzled stare, he smiled. “Yes, it’s for us.” Then he recalled his conversation with Dave. “How was the concert?”
Her black-lined eyes widened for a second. “How did you—?” Her cheeks pinked. “It was… nice.”
“Just nice?” Heath smirked. “That’s all Dave gets? ‘It was nice’?”
Daria leaned forward. “If you tell anyone I said this, I’m going to have your balls hanging from my rearview mirror.”
Ouch. “I won’t breathe a word. You can trust me.”
She straightened. “I only agreed to go with Dave because of the concert tickets. But when he came to pick me up that night… I don’t even know how to say it. He was nice to me. He brought me some flowers, complimented me on what I was wearing, and didn’t try to do anything after. Most guys think when they spend money, you owe them, you know? Mind you, a lot of the guys I’ve gone out with would never take me to a concert without having some ulterior motive.”
“Sounds to me like the guys you normally date are shits.”
She shrugged. “Girls like the bad-boy types.”
“But that’s not Dave,” Heath said gently.
She stared at him. “Yeah, that’s not Dave. He was considerate. He didn’t make me feel cheap.” Her face lit up in a smile. “He walked me to my door, you know? He didn’t ask if he could come in, just held out a hand and said good night. And after he’d gone, I kept wondering what it would have been like if I’d kissed him.” Daria shook her head. “And now I can’t get that image out of my mind.”
Heath let his gaze drift to Xavier. Yeah, he understood that.
“So now I’m all screwed up, because I don’t know what to do.” She seemed so lost.
“You know he likes you, right?”
She nodded. “But he’s not like the guys I go out with. He doesn’t—”
Heath held up his hand. “And that’s your problem right there. Stop comparing him to other guys. You’ve already said he’s not like them. From the sound of it—and I could be wrong—I’m getting the impression you really don’t care for those guys anyway.”
She averted her eyes. “Let me get your order together.”
Heath reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Dar, we’ve known each other awhile now. I’m going to say this as your friend. If Dave treats you nice, and if you like it, then why not take a chance on him? Better still, take a chance on yourself.”
The thought rose unbidden in his head. Why not take a chance on Xavier too?
She dipped her chin. “Thanks for listening.”
“You know where I work, so anytime you want to talk, stop by. My coffee isn’t as good as yours, but I’ve always got an ear for my friends.”
“You think of us as friends?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I didn’t scare you off?”
“Nah. I knew there was a heart under all that dark, brooding exterior.”
Her cheeks pinked. “Thank you.” She got the order together, then brought it to Heath on a tray. “I put a couple of danish pastries on there for you.”
“Thank you, that was nice.” He blew her a kiss. “Listen to your heart—it’ll tell you what to do.”
Her eyes glistened, but she shook her head. “You’re such a softy.” And then she went back to work.
Heath hefted the tray and carried it to the table. Xavier sat there, grinning.
“What?”
“You’re a good guy, Heath Snow.” He tilted his head in Daria’s direction. “She doesn’t look as sad as she did when we came in.”
The comment warmed Heath. He took the chair across from Xavier, doctored his coffee, then took a sip. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
Xavier took a bite of one of the pastries. “Oh, this is good.”
“It comes from a shop where my friend Dave works. They make some great s
tuff. And never mind the pastries. Why are we here?”
Xavier swallowed quickly. “Okay… that book. I read it last night. I have to ask, have you got the whole series?”
A niggle in the back of Heath’s head told him to say no, but he nodded.
“And which character is your favorite? Byerley, the master of the manor, or Malcolm, his stable boy?”
Heath expelled a breath. “Byerley.” His voice was whisper-soft. “Lord Byerley.”
Xavier nodded slowly, as though that was the answer he’d expected. “Different question now. If you were a character in the book, who would you be?” He leaned closer. “Who do you most identify with?”
Heat powered through him. It felt as though so much rested on his answer, and Heath didn’t want to screw this up. Yet something told him Xavier wasn’t about to ridicule him, whatever his reply.
It came as a shock to realize Heath trusted him.
He drew in a breath and looked Xavier in the eye. “Malcolm.” No sooner had the word left his lips than Heath shuddered with relief. He’d shared his secret with someone, and the world hadn’t ended.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” Xavier reached out and brushed their fingertips together. “I, however, would be Byerley.”
Heath blinked. “What?”
That grin was back. “Do you remember the party I invited you to?”
It was pretty hard to forget. “Yeah.”
“It was held in a club called Secrets. It’s for people—well, men, actually—who would also love your book.” He snickered. “Not that it’s a reading club, don’t get me wrong. Just think about all the things Byerley and Malcolm get up to, and you’d have a fair idea of what goes on there.”
A club? There were clubs like that? “Seriously?”
“Extremely.”
“And… you wanted me to see this place? Just because you saw my book?” Heath’s heart pounded. Because he wanted to see it.
Xavier sighed. “Okay, let me be perfectly honest here. I wanted to take you there because I thought—well, I still think—you’re sexy as hell, and I wanted to show you a world where reality is just as hot as your fantasy one. Except I went about it all the wrong way. My friend was right. I should have invited you to dinner first, and then asked.”
Heath held up his hands. “Hold it. Stop right there. This… this isn’t a joke? There’s a real, honest-to-God club?”
When Xavier burst out laughing, the few people that were in the shop turned in their direction. Heath’s cheeks heated, and he ducked his head.
Xavier lowered his voice. “A real, honest-to-God club. It’s owned by two men who came from Manchester, where they were members of another club, Collars & Cuffs. Secrets is a real swanky place, but it’s got some very hot things going on, not unlike your book.”
Heath leaned closer. “I’ve got a lot of similar books. I never bothered to find out if there were really places like that, though.” His pulse raced. “So can anyone go there? I mean, could I visit it?”
Xavier pursed his lips. “You could, but…. Well, I’d rather you didn’t go alone.”
“Why not?”
This time Xavier curled his fingers around Heath’s. “Because I want to be the one to take you. To be your guide. I mean, if you think that’s something you might want.”
Heath grinned. “When can we go?”
Chapter Six
“READY?”
Half an hour ago, the answer to Xavier’s question would have been a resounding yes. But standing in front of the club, catching the muted thump of music from within, his fertile imagination already conjuring up scenes of what he might find in there….
Heath shivered. “Yeah.” When Xavier’s hand tightened around his, Heath gave him a grateful glance. “You were right. I couldn’t have come here on my own.”
“Sundays are usually exhibition nights, which means something will be happening on the stage at some point.”
Stage?
Xavier released his hand. “Okay, no more talk. Action time.” And with that, he gave a nod to the guy standing by the door, who pushed it open, and Xavier propelled Heath into the club.
What struck Heath most was that it appeared normal. There was a reception desk, a bar, tables and chairs…. Then he changed his mind. Seated at one of the tables were three or four guys in leathers, and at the feet of one of them was a naked young man, on all fours, eating from a bowl on the floor. From the young man’s arse emerged a… tail, curved and spotted, like a Dalmatian, and Heath swore it was wagging. Or at least twitching. Then he noticed the dog collar around the man’s neck, thick and black, a leash attached to it and looped around the leg of the nearest chair.
The surreal part was how the four men chatted, as if this was an everyday occurrence. Now and then, the man nearest the… puppy reached down and stroked his close-cropped hair. The young man pushed up into his hand, his eyes closed, an expression of serene happiness on his face.
The thought that sprang to Heath’s mind made him want to chuckle. Oh, Toto. We’re not in Kansas anymore. Then he thought that in a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a jacket, he felt decidedly overdressed.
“Hey!” A man approached them, a leather harness tight around his chest, but below that was a pair of faded jeans and black boots. He enveloped Xavier in a firm hug before releasing him and gazing at Heath with obvious interest. “You wouldn’t own a bookshop, would you, by any chance?”
Heath gaped at him. “How did you—?” Then it came to him, and he turned to Xavier. “Your friend. The one who had the party.”
Xavier grinned. “Heath, meet Kyle, one of my oldest friends.”
Kyle glared at him. “What he really meant to say was, one of his friends that he’s known for a long time.” He rolled his eyes. “You make me sound ancient.” He extended a hand to Heath. “Is this your first visit to a BDSM club?”
Heath snickered. “What gave it away? My jaw on the floor or my eyes out on stalks?” He thought he sounded relatively composed, in spite of the… scenery.
Both Xavier and Kyle laughed at that.
“Eli’s not around this evening,” Kyle said to Xavier, “and I did see Jarod a while ago. He might be upstairs with his mum. Doubtless he’ll be back down soon.”
Heath stared at him. “His mum?”
Kyle snorted. “God, you’ll have to meet Maggie at some point. She’s an amazing lady.”
“I think for now we’ve got enough on our plate.” Xavier gave Kyle a firm glance. “Heath is just here to take a look around.” He nudged Heath’s arm. “Shall we?”
Heath chuckled. “Lead on. I think the tone for the evening was set by the sight of a naked guy with a tail. I’m not sure you can beat that.” The way Xavier’s eyes sparkled, however, sent a thrill of anticipation skittering throughout his body.
Heath had a feeling he was about to eat his words.
Xavier led him through a wide doorway and into what had to be the main part of the club. Heath sucked in a deep breath and tried to take it all in, but the images were overwhelming. Men in casual wear. In leather. Naked. Men with—
Oh my God, is that a cage around his dick?
Then there was more to take in, and Heath struggled to keep up. A man lying across a bench while another paddled his arse with a large, flat piece of thick leather, leaving his cheeks bright red in its wake. A man stood against a wall, his fingers curled around two rings set into it, while another man flicked a whip at him, pulling sharp cries with each connection. A large wooden X stood in one corner, a naked man facing it, bound to it, while another man brandished what looked like a whip with many soft-looking tongues, that swished through the air and landed with a snap on the man’s backside and upper back and shoulders, flicking against his thighs. In another corner were two metal frames, chains hanging from each corner and meeting on a bed of black leather. Not that Heath could see much more beyond that—his attention was seized by the rear view of the man standing in front of the frame, clutching the chains as
he slowly fucked the sling’s occupant, his arsecheeks hollowing with each thrust.
It was more than Heath had expected. More than he’d dreamed of.
“Ready for more?”
Holy hell. “There’s more?” Heath forced himself to tear his gaze away from the scene before him.
Xavier nodded slowly. “There’s the group room.”
Heath swallowed, his throat tight. “Show me.”
Xavier led him to a door, from behind which came the unmistakable sounds of fucking. He held the door open, and Heath stepped into the warm room, conscious immediately of the low lighting, and the sounds and smells of sex and sweat. It wasn’t a large room, but it was full. He drank in the sights: a threesome, consisting of two men dominating a third, filling him from both ends; a man bent over a bench, his arms bound to it, while two men claimed his hole, each slamming into him as they took turns, sending jolts through his flesh as bodies slapped together; and all around them, men sat or stood, watching, palming their own thickened cocks or playing with another’s, murmuring low noises of appreciation. Music thrummed through the floor, a relentless rhythm that only served to encourage pounding, thrusting, a primal beat that shuddered through Heath, making him want.
“Sensory overload?” Xavier’s lips brushed his ear, and the intimate connection only renewed Heath’s shivers.
“I couldn’t….” Heath locked his gaze on the submissive who was now on his back on the bench, his arms freed so he could pull his legs up to his chest. One Dom thrust into his hole, while the other fed him his thick cock. Each drive of that dick into him pushed a muffled sound from the sub’s lips, making him suck harder.
“Couldn’t what?”
Heath pointed to the sub. “Be him,” he said simply.
Xavier’s hand was on his chin, lifting it, forcing Heath to focus on him. “And yet you identified with Malcolm.”
Heath blinked. “Oh. No, you don’t understand. I couldn’t do… that. Not while people watched. Sex is… private.” And yet the sub seemed totally oblivious to his surroundings, totally focused on the two men.
Xavier smiled. “That’s what private rooms are for.”
