He pursed his lips, his expression serious. “Okay,” he said at last. “Well, maybe we can help you with that.” He smiled. “I’ve always loved sounds, and it’s been a while since I trained anyone on how to use them.” Thomas sighed. “I do miss those days.”
“Maybe you should start up again,” I suggested. Ben spoke glowingly of this Dom: I found myself wanting to see him in full flow.
Thomas laughed. “Now you sound just like Leo.” He peered at me. “Are you sure he didn’t put you up to this? Because this is uncanny. We were discussing this only yesterday.”
I stared at him. “No!” I exclaimed. “I’ve only just met him.”
The door opened, and Leo stuck his head around it. “Want to come meet some people?” He grinned.
Thomas gave a wry chuckle. “That seems to be our cue to end this conversation.” He stood up and held out his hand to take mine in a firm handshake. “I hope to see you soon, Eli—you
and
Jarod.”
I had to admit, I was hoping the same thing. I had a very good feeling about Collars & Cuffs.
I followed Leo to the bar, where six or seven men were sitting around, chatting, laughing, and watching our approach.
“Gentlemen, this is Eli, a prospective member, so play nice.” Leo winked at me and then turned to go back into the office. I laughed along with them.
The man I’d seen Leo talking to earlier was the first to speak. “I’m Miles. Let me do some introductions.” He pointed around the seated group. “This is Andrew. He’s our Shibari whiz.” Andrew laughed. “And that’s Jonathon and his boy Dillon, Joe, Steve….” Miles grinned. “And the skinny one on the end is mine.”
“Hey!” The dark-haired young man stared indignantly at Miles, then flashed a quick smile at me. “I’m Pietro.”
“Pleased to meet you all.” They seemed a nice bunch. I looked around to make sure Leo wasn’t in sight and then leaned forward. “So, this place is cool?”
Everyone nodded. “I’ve been to a few different clubs,” Joe confided, “but I love it here. We’re like family.” More nods greeted his words.
“You gonna join?” Miles asked me.
“Thinking about it.” Then it occurred to me that I had the perfect opportunity to learn something. “So if a submissive wanted to join who was older than the guys I’ve seen so far, maybe in his forties or even fifties, you wouldn’t have a problem with that?”
Dillon looked genuinely puzzled. “Why would we? What does age have to do with it?” Pietro’s face wore a similar expression. That, more than anything else I’d seen or heard, made my heart feel that bit lighter.
Maybe Collars & Cuffs was exactly what we were looking for after all.
“What’s the procedure for joining?” I asked them.
“Well, Leo or Thomas will carry out checks, like they always do,” Miles told me, “but Ben speaks highly of you, and I gotta say, that recommendation will carry a lot of weight here.”
This place was what Spitfire should have been. When I joined, there was no background check, no vetting at all. Just pay your fee, and you were in. This was a club that had standards, and it made me proud that my friend thought I met them.
It was time to go home and talk to my pet.
Eli
WHEN I
opened the front door, the delicious aroma hit me immediately. “Hi, honey, I’m home,” I called out and then grinned.
Jarod stuck his head around the kitchen door, eyebrows arched. “‘Honey,’ Sir?” His lips twitched. He disappeared back into the kitchen.
I chuckled as I shucked off my jacket. “It seemed appropriate,” I said with a shrug. “What’s that gorgeous smell?” My stomach growled, a reminder that I’d gone too long since lunch without food. I hadn’t meant to stay so long at the club, but I’d lost all track of time, chatting with the members. I was glad I’d remembered to call Jarod earlier in the day to tell him I’d be late home.
“That is your dinner, chicken casserole with tarragon dumplings,” Jarod said as I entered the kitchen. The table was set, a plate of freshly baked bread cut into chunks in the center of it.
My mouth watered, and my belly gave another rumble.
Jarod smiled. “Someone’s hungry.” He opened the oven and carefully brought out the white casserole dish, which he placed on a mat. I sniffed the air, and he laughed. “Okay, okay, it’s coming.”
I sat down and watched him dish out two plates full of casserole. He brought them to the table and took a seat. “I wanted to make something special for you, as it was your first day back at work.” He gave me a shy smile. “Especially as you had to work late too.”
“That was a really nice thought.” His last remark gave me a pang. Not telling him where I was going had seemed perfectly logical last night, but in the light of day, it felt as if I’d deceived him.
Time to put that right.
The food tasted as delicious as it smelled. We ate in silence for about ten minutes, and when the edge of my appetite had dulled, I put down my fork and regarded him intently. “There’s something I’d like to discuss, and now is as good a time as any.”
Jarod put down his cutlery and nodded. “Okay.”
“I’d like us to go to a club.”
He flinched, his eyes closing tightly. “If that’s what you want, Sir,” he said, ending on a slight sigh.
I couldn’t really blame him for his reaction.
“I know how hard it was for you at the other club, and I need you to understand that I would never put you in that sort of situation again. Okay?” I stared at him, hoping he saw the truth of that statement reflected on my face. After a few seconds, he nodded. Encouraged, I pressed forward. “My friend, Ben, is the bar manager at Collars & Cuffs, a BDSM club on Canal Street. He’s invited us there.” I snickered. “Actually, he’s been trying to get me there for months. He’s a persistent little sod.” Jarod smothered a chuckle, and it lightened my heart. “Anyway, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, so I arranged to meet the club owners first, to ensure we’d be welcome. That’s why I was late tonight.”
My heartbeat sped up when he stared at me with rounded eyes.
“You went there?”
I nodded. “After talking to Ben, I didn’t think we’d be walking into the lion’s den, but I wanted to make sure. And if I went there and didn’t like the feel of the place, well, that was better than taking you there and subjecting you to any unwelcome atmosphere.” I regarded him keenly. “Do you understand now why I didn’t take you with me?”
To my intense relief, he smiled. “You were looking out for me, Sir.”
I returned his smile. “Exactly. As it was, I really liked the club. I think you will too. And as for why I’d want us to go to a club in the first place? I want to show you off, pet. I want everyone to know that you’re mine, but I will only do that if your heart is really into it.” I stressed that last part, my gaze focused on his face.
“Really?” he asked, his voice so soft I had to strain to hear him.
I rose from my chair and went to his side of the table. I tucked a knuckle under his chin and tilted his head. “Yes, really.” I dipped my head and kissed him on the lips. When I straightened, I grinned. “And you taste of chicken casserole.”
He bit back a smile. A deep breath and a moment of silence later he answered me. “I trust you to do what’s best. If you think we should do this, then I will give it my all.”
I tugged him to his feet and pulled him into me. He buried his face in my neck, and I could feel him tremble. His hair smelled of citrus and cedar, uniquely him.
“I’m afraid,” he admitted.
I held him tightly. “I promise you, Jarod, I will always be there for you. Not just because it’s my job, but because you’re mine.”
He melted into my arms, his trembling disappeared. After a moment his breath tickled my neck. “Can we finish dinner now?”
I laughed and released him. “Good idea.” We both sat and finished our meal, Jarod much more at ease. Then he stiffened.
“When were you thinking of visiting the club, Sir?”
“I was thinking about maybe this weekend.”
Jarod’s expression grew pained. “Then may I make a suggestion? Perhaps we could go to my house before then?” He glanced down at his clothes, or rather, my clothes. “Maybe I need to pack some things if I’m going to be staying.”
“If?” I speared him with a look.
Jarod’s cheeks flushed. “Okay. Sir, I need my clothes, because I’m living here now, with you.”
I nodded in approval. “Much better, pet.” He had a point. “So how about we go there after dinner on Thursday night? Then we can go to Collars & Cuffs on Friday.”
“That sounds good.”
I had to admit, I was curious to see the house. There was still so much about Jarod that I didn’t know.
DINNER WAS
done, dishes washed, and everything dried and put away.
“Whereabouts is this house?” I asked as I picked up my keys and warm jacket. March had come in with an icy blast, after the end of February had lulled everyone into a false sense of security with its unseasonably mild last few days.
Jarod stepped into the hallway, his coat already on. “Do you know the Worsley turnoff for the M60?”
I thought for a moment; then it came to me. “Yes. There’s a French haulage company who have their base near there, near Leigh.”
“Well, the house is on Leigh Road.”
I wasn’t familiar with it, but at least I knew the area. “Okay, let’s go.”
We drove through the center of Manchester and joined the M60 motorway. Once we reached junction 13, Jarod gave me directions to Leigh Road. On one side of the road was a walled park and a garden center. The other side took my breath away. The houses were enormous compared to mine, huge ancestral piles of brick, landscaped gardens, high walls and wrought-iron gates; we were talking a serious amount of money, just on this one road. There was a hollowness in my stomach. Did Jarod live here? Why on earth would he want to live in my house?
Finally we turned off the road and pulled up to a wrought-iron gate. Jarod handed me a card that he told me I needed to swipe against the mechanical sentry. The gates swung open, and I got my first look at Jarod’s home. It was a Georgian-style house, set in its own grounds, with lawns laid out to the front. We drove past the front of the house to a wide paved area in front of a triple garage.
I switched off the engine, and we got out of the car. As we approached the large front door, I looked up and counted nine wide sash windows. In front of the house were four square box hedges. The view across the lawn was spectacular, with several huge mature trees near the road end of it.
I turned to face Jarod. “You live here?” I asked, dumbfounded. For a moment doubt crept in. Why would Jarod need me when he had all this?
“This was Master Phillip’s home,” he corrected.
“It was yours too. After more than two decades, I’m certain a lot of you is in here too.”
He smiled and led me to the front door. We stepped into a light entrance hall with a polished tiled floor and a staircase leading up on the right. Jarod tensed.
“What is it, pet?”
“It’s… dusty. Things are a mess, and I don’t like messes” came the reply.
I had to wonder if he regretted living with me when this was clearly his place. I couldn’t keep quiet.
“Jarod, if you’d rather live here, I’m okay with it.”
He tilted his head to one side. “You’d live here too?”
I shook my head. “Well, no. I have my own house. But we’ll still see each other, if you want.”
He froze, panic all too clear on his face. “No! I don’t want to leave you. Please don’t make me.”
I placed my hands on his upper arms. “Calm down, pet. I’m not making you leave. But this is your home.”
He shook his head vigorously. “No. This hasn’t been home for many years. It’s just a place, that’s all it’s been for a long time now. Where you are? For me, that’s home. It’s alive, filled with your presence. This? This is a monument to a man who left this world years ago. He’d be ashamed of me for trying to hold on to it, especially now when it’s just hit me that he’s never coming home.”
My tongue was thick, and it was hard to swallow.
“Will you show me around?” I finally choked out.
He smiled and led me through the house.
I’d never been in anything like it. The rooms were all spacious and light, with high ceilings and large windows, letting the light spill into every corner. I still couldn’t get over Jarod living in such a beautiful place. The house had everything he could possibly want. Then I recalled the man who disobeyed me because he wanted a connection. The one who snuggled into my arms. The man who took great joy in simply making me breakfast. It was then I knew that the trappings of wealth weren’t want Jarod wanted. What I gave him, and what we were building, was what he craved.
In the lounge a grand piano, black and gleaming, stood in the bay window.
“It’s gorgeous. Can you play, pet?”
He flushed slightly. “Yes. Phillip taught me. I used to play when he held dinner parties.”
The fact he hadn’t said Master Phillip didn’t escape my notice, but I kept quiet about it. I thought he hadn’t even realized it himself yet. “Would you play something for me?”
Jarod glanced at the piano and smiled. “I’d be happy to.” He sat down at the piano and lifted the lid. He paused, his hands hovering over the keys, and then Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” filled the air, the notes as light as the room in which we found ourselves. I stared in awe as Jarod’s fingers moved skillfully over the keyboard with a fluid grace.
“That’s beautiful, pet,” I uttered in a hushed voice. It had been one of my mum’s favorite pieces of music. The serene expression on Jarod’s face matched the tranquility of the music. I gazed around the room, taking in the stylish furniture, the tasteful paintings. “What did Phillip do for a living?”
Jarod smiled, his fingers never ceasing in their ballet. “He didn’t work. He came from money, and most of the time he traveled the world, investing in companies, giving money to charitable foundations.”
I became very still. “Pet… just how much are you worth?”
He eyed me curiously. “To whom?”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”