“Oh, Jarod. Phillip was always proud of you. No matter what happened, his heart was filled to the brim with his love for you. You have to know that.”
“It’s not enough,” I whispered. “I need someone to care for. I’m lost every day. It only takes me an hour or so to clean the house, and after that I’ve nothing more to do, so I clean it again. Please, can’t I come back home?”
“No,” she said curtly. “Jarod, I love you more than life itself, but we both know I’m not the one you want to take care of. You need to go out again. You need to find a life. Phillip wouldn’t want this for you, and you know that. What did he always say?”
I sighed heavily. “That if something ever happened, I was to find a way to move on. He wanted me to promise him that I wouldn’t mourn, but I never made that promise. He was my life. Taking care of him is who I was. Now I’m no one.”
“Jarod Sebastian Pearce, don’t you
ever
talk like that again!” she snapped. “You are a sweet, wonderful man who is just a little lost. Go out. Meet new people. Get laid. Do whatever you have to, but it’s time to move on, and I think you know that. It’s why the ache is so strong now, because it’s your heart grabbing at the last bits of grief.”
I began rocking on the bed. “I’ve tried to go out. The men at the club aren’t interested in someone like me.”
“And what does that mean?”
I barked out a bitter laugh. “I’m fifty years old. I’m not a twink anymore.”
She laughed again, the sound warmer than mine had been. “You were never a twink. Phillip liked you because you were a strong man who gave him everything you were. It was that submission that he loved you for. And there will be another person out there who will do the same. Don’t give up on yourself. Now tell me you’ll go out tonight.”
I glanced back toward the closet. The last few times I’d gone to a club, it had been awkward at best. Me in the sub area with a bunch of young boys who would have nothing to do with me. I’d been involved in a few scenes, but I think it was more out of pity on the Doms’ part than anything else.
“Jarod? Promise me you’ll go out,” she repeated.
“Okay, I will.”
“Jarod.” Her voice held a note of warning.
Like I could ignore
that
tone. “Yes, I’ll go out.”
“And leave your heart open to finding something new, okay? Even if you leave the door open just a crack, it gives someone an opportunity to walk in.”
She told me how much she loved me and how proud of me she was. It was good to hear, but it didn’t carry the same weight as Master Phillip’s encouragement as he’d trained me. I would never love like that again, I knew, but maybe my mother was right. Maybe it was finally time to see what was happening in the world.
I showered, ensuring that I cleaned myself everywhere in case this evening turned into something, then sat down in front of the mirror. My hair had more gray than dark brown I’d had throughout my whole life, but it suited me, according to Master Phillip. I wasn’t a vain person, but I thought I still had a somewhat youthful appearance.
I did a check of everything before I dressed to leave. I’d brushed my teeth twice, gargled with minty mouthwash, and put out a pack of gum for when I was ready to leave. It had been at least a year since I’d gone to the club, and I was nervous. The last time I was widely ignored by the Doms and teased or ignored by the subs. I steeled my nerves and called for a taxi.
When it pulled up outside the bar and I climbed out, I realized my legs were shaking. I took a moment to collect myself. When I approached the door, the doorman did a double take of me in my harness and leather pants. His frown made me feel self-conscious.
“Welcome to Spitfire,” he said, the tone of his voice letting me know I really wasn’t welcome. “Do you have your membership card?” I slipped the card from my wallet and held it out to him. He perused it, his frown deepening. “This is from the club that was here before.”
I hadn’t even realized the club had changed hands once again. I began to stammer an apology, but he opened the door. “Stop at the bar and ask to speak to the manager. He’ll be able to set you up with a new card.”
I had to shield my eyes from the bright lights that pulsed around a huge dance floor. It took considerable effort not to turn around and leave as I watched scantily clad young men gyrating on the floor with burly men, who had no problems grinding against them. At that moment I felt every one of my years, when I realized that even the Doms were younger than me.
The bar was full of a variety of men, but again, I was the oldest one there. I stepped up to the bar and received a smile and a nod from the bartender, who came over to me after he finished serving another customer.
“Welcome to Spitfire. What can I get you?”
I slid the card across the bar and told him that the doorman suggested I talk with the manager. He picked up the card, then looked at me, causing me to squirm. “The manager isn’t here tonight. I’m watching the place. Feel free to mingle. If you’re looking for a submissive, you’ll find them in that area over there, though you won’t be allowed to take them into a private room.”
He pointed to a roped off corner of the bar where young men mingled and chatted.
“May I join them?” I asked.
“What?”
“I’m not a Dom.”
He looked at me with such pity in his eyes. “Go home,” he said. “This isn’t the place for someone like you.”
The thought of going home again was like a fist of ice crushing my heart. “Please,” I begged, “let me stay.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then nodded in the direction of the pen. “Don’t blame me if they don’t welcome you.”
I put the old card back in my wallet and walked over to take my place with the other subs. I entered the area, ignoring the whispers and pointing, and sank to my knees. No matter what else, this evening would show that I was a true submissive.
I could only hope I would be welcomed.
Eli
OUR FOOTFALLS
on the winding path beat a steady rhythm that drove us on. It was a lighter run than we’d done in the past, but that was before Ben got hit by a drunk driver outside Collars & Cuffs on his birthday. His boy, Scott, witnessed the accident and my friend—stubborn ass that he is—sent Scott away, thinking he was doing right by him. Still, I understood it. A sub was the most precious of gifts. When someone gave themselves to you, submitted to you, there was almost nothing you wouldn’t do to ensure they were well taken care of. Ben thought he was doing the right thing; it just took him a while to realize he was wrong. Now that they’d settled back into their relationship, Ben was happier than I’d ever known him to be.
Just then the wind picked up, and I shivered. February was definitely getting colder. At least the January snows had finally thawed.
“You’re being awfully quiet over there. Too much running leaving you without enough breath to talk?”
I glanced over at Ben and quirked a brow. The cheeky git just chuckled.
“I’m thinking about how lucky you are to have a second chance with Scott. You don’t deserve it, you know.”
Ben’s pace faltered, and he quieted for a few moments. “I know. I’m not sure I was ready for the responsibility when Scott came to be with me. Once I realized that I wanted him, I went in with my heart on my sleeve. No one has ever affected me the way he does.”
“Then why send him away?” I challenged, noting the wince when I asked the question.
“I had nothing to give him. His parents would have given him everything I couldn’t.”
Ben’s answer was wistful, and I waited patiently for the rest.
“I was wrong. I knew it almost immediately after he left, but to be honest, I was ashamed. I was in casts after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself, and his father pointed that out to me very clearly. I didn’t want Scott to see me as less than a full partner. I’m supposed to be his Master, after all.”
Now it was my turn to be quiet. I wanted what Ben had. I wanted it with every fiber of my being. I wanted someone who would depend on me to take care of them. Someone who needed me in a way no one else ever could. I was bloody tired of the clubs and all the little subs who wanted to play with a big, bad Dom, but then return to their quiet little suburban homes until the next time they had an itch that needed to be scratched.
“I can hear the cogs turning from here,” Ben murmured.
“That’s what I want,” I admitted. “I want what you have. Hell, at times I might even consider what your friend Damian has, though I’m not sure I’m suited for that kind of lifestyle.”
We’d met Damian and Jeff on one of our runs. It was easy to see that Damian doted on Jeff, and that Jeff was taken with the Dom… former Dom? The thought of that made my head pound. Still, Jeff was obviously happy and after what Ben had told me about his life, I can see where he needed the structure Damian was trying to give him. Domestic discipline wasn’t for me, though. I wanted a boy of my own. Someone who would put their trust in me. Someone who would be willing to play with me.
Ben laughed, although considering we were on our second mile, it came out as more of a wheeze. “You’re not going to find it if you don’t get out and look for it. Come to the club. I’ll introduce you to Leo and Thomas. Hell, I’ll even buy the first drink.”
“Ooh, how generous of you. I assume you’ll at least use the high-end tonic and lime.”
Ben knew I didn’t drink much. Not since I started playing with the boys at the clubs. It was important for me to maintain control at all times, and I didn’t like the aftereffects of the alcohol. It really wasn’t my best friend.
That didn’t stop me from slipping now and again, however.
“It’ll do you good to get out. Hey, you could stop by and see Andrew do a Shibari demonstration. It’s magnificent.”
“I’ll think about it, all right?”
“You always say that. You never do, though. I get the feeling you’re afraid of Collars & Cuffs.”
I sighed. “I said I’d think about it. That’s the only thing I can promise.” I glanced at my watch. “We should be heading back soon. I’m off to the club tonight.”
Ben’s face showed his obvious distaste. “You’re still going to Spitfire? That place is a cesspool.”
He wasn’t wrong. Still, it was much closer to home than Collars & Cuffs was, and even though it had seen better days, it had some good points. “I promise at some point, I’ll make it to C&C, okay?”
“That’s all I ask. You have to know I wouldn’t tell you to come by if it wasn’t the best place.”
I gave a noncommittal hum, and we dropped the subject as we turned to head back. Ben had given me something to think about. I wouldn’t find what I was looking for sitting at home, and my job as a lorry driver didn’t allow me much time to do anything else.
I snuck a peek at my friend. Although it was taking him time to build up muscle and stamina, he had a healthy glow about him. I’d noticed how he’d grown as a person since he took charge of Scott, even if the cheeky brat pushed Ben every chance he got. Still, it seemed everyone Ben told me about at Collars & Cuffs was finding someone. The club owner, Leo, had found Alex: in fact, they’d gotten married just after Christmas. Thomas, Leo’s partner, had Peter, Ben had Scott. Hell, Ben was going to marry Scott, when they finally got around to setting a date. And there were others that Ben told me about each time we got together.
I
had
thought about visiting the club where Ben was bar manager, but something kept telling me it couldn’t be as good as Ben made it out to be. I mean, all clubs were the same, weren’t they? True, Spitfire used to be a more traditional BDSM club, with leather and all the trappings. Now it was… something else. The current owners were trying to fuse together bits and pieces from different styles, and mucking it up in the process.
I’d trained as a Dom there, back when it was Lancers. At least I’d
started
training. The club went tits up after the first few months, and Spitfire didn’t offer training of any sort. Another strike against it, as far as I was concerned. What was the likelihood of finding a place where there was a trainer and a more traditional style of clientele?
“Are you even listening to me?” Ben complained.
“Trying not to,” I shot back.
“I asked if we were going to go for a full five miles today.”
“No, probably not. You’re not ready for it. You’re puffing like a steam engine already, and I think it’s time we headed back. I need to get a shower before work, and then tonight I need to see what the club has to offer.”
“What’s going on tonight?”
“Spitfire is having a sub night. According to the invite, there are supposed to be a few dozen subs there, and I want to see what kind of crop they bring in. Because last time? Just awful. Primped and preening boys, makeup, even
glitter
, for fuck’s sake. I want a man, not a twink, and I want someone who is interested in more than a one-off in the back of the club. What I wouldn’t give for what
you
have, someone to take care of you like Scott does.”
“Hey, we take care of each other! But do you honestly think you’ll find it at Spitfire? You’ve been a member there for, what? Six months?”
“Eight,” I admitted through gritted teeth.
“And how far along has that gotten you?”
I knew we were back on the subject of Collars & Cuffs again, and although my friend wouldn’t steer me wrong, I was resisting for very practical reasons. It would take me nearly an hour to get there, and another to get home. It was just inconvenient.
“If I promise you I’ll come in one night, will you stop harping on at me?”
“All I ask is that you give it a chance. We have Doms and subs from all over and a very strict membership policy, so you know we only have the best.”
“And what about a trainer?” I hinted.
Ben sighed. “Thomas was the one in charge of training at the club, but when he took Peter in hand, he gave it up. They’ve been looking for someone who would fill the role, but so far no one has been a good fit. I think Leo’s been spoiled with Thomas.”