Authors: KC Wells
He poured out two mugs of coffee and took them into the library. Adam was stretched out on the couch, relaxed, glasses off, eyes closed. The cantata was coming to an end, and as the last notes rang out, he smiled. “That was lovely.” He sat upright and held out his hand for the coffee. “Come sit down. I need to talk to you.”
Paul joined him on the couch, acutely aware of the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, in spite of having eaten less than an hour previously. “Am I in trouble?”
Adam shook his head. “No, not at all. I felt we needed to set some things straight.”
“Okay.” Paul sipped his coffee in the hope it would calm his nerves.
Yeah, right….
Adam adjusted his position so he was facing Paul. “You and I are going to talk about sex.” He spoke as if they were going to discuss the weather, or something as mundane as a shopping list. Paul wasn’t sure how to react, but he got the idea Adam had given this a lot of thought. He waited for him to continue.
“I like sex. I like a lot of it, and I like to think I’m good at it.”
After the previous two encounters, Paul had no argument with that last statement whatsoever.
“I’m going to assume at this point you’re happy for us to continue having sex.”
Paul tried not to splutter his coffee everywhere. “Uh, yes, that’s a fair assumption.”
Adam smiled. “Good. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I know as your employer, this might be seen as unprofessional—”
Paul snorted. “Like it doesn’t happen.”
“Exactly.” Adam beamed. “But I had to put it out there. The last thing I want is for there to be any misunderstanding, say, for example, a few months down the line for you to claim you were coerced, or that you agreed to this out of fear of losing your job.”
What the fuck?
“As if I’d do that.” Paul couldn’t believe he was hearing this.
“Please, I’m not suggesting for a second you would,” Adam assured him. “This is for my peace of mind.” He paused to take a drink of coffee. After a moment he raised his chin. “I’ve offended you.”
The expression of utter mortification on Adam’s face went more to pacifying Paul than Adam’s words. “No, I get it. Go on.” Now that Adam had got started, Paul was intrigued to hear where this was going.
“I’m going to be honest here. I’ve missed sex. And now that I’m getting back into the swing of things, I don’t see why I should have to do without it. If it were up to me, we’d be fucking every day,” Adam said bluntly. “So this next bit is important. If I’m horny and you’re not, you say so, okay? And vice versa, of course. I will never force you.”
Paul couldn’t have imagined this conversation taking place a week before. Adam had indeed come a long way.
“I’m going to make another assumption now, based on our conversation of this afternoon.”
“Okay.” Paul knew exactly what was coming.
“Do you want me to help you explore some of the elements you witnessed at that club?”
Silence. Paul swallowed past the stone that seemed to have lodged itself in his throat. “Yes.” It was more of a croak than anything else.
Adam nodded slowly. “I thought that might be the case. That’s fine, Paul. I would be happy to do that.”
Paul was overcome by a momentary sensation of giddiness. Emotions tumbled and collided within him: gratitude, fear, apprehension and one that soared above all of them—anticipation.
“My last point might take all the fun out of this, but I want you to remember it.”
Paul held his breath.
“This is just sex, all right? This is the two of us assuring that our mutual needs are met. No romantic entanglements, no guilt, just a sexual relationship with no strings.”
Paul let out his breath in a low release of air. What filled his thoughts more than anything was a sense of sadness: Adam wanted to cut himself off from the possibility that this could be more than physical. It was only after a moment that he realized why this should engender that particular emotion. He was already way past the point of thinking of Adam in a purely physical sense.
But if this is how he wants it…
What choice did Paul have, but to go along with it?
Something stirred in his mind.
“What about… sleeping arrangements?” he asked, hoping to hear an answer that lightened his dampened spirits.
Adam grinned. “I have no objection to you sharing my bed now and again. The thought of waking up with a warm body next to me is extremely appealing. Having said that, I don’t think it should be an every night occurrence. We spend our days together: I wouldn’t want us to be forever in each other’s pockets.” He relaxed against the cushions. “That’s everything, I think. Does that all sound acceptable?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” Paul tried hard to inject a note of enthusiasm into his voice. After all, he was going to be having sex with his gorgeous boss on a regular basis, share his bed, explore his kinkier side… What was there not to like?
So why does it all feel so… cold and clinical?
“Anyway, let’s not talk about this anymore tonight.” Adam gave him an enigmatic smile. “Time enough for that tomorrow.” He reached over the arm of the couch and picked up a CD. “What’s this one?” he asked Paul.
“Tchaikovsky,” he replied absently. His head was still spinning. “Give it to me: I’ll put it on.”
Adam thanked him and drew his long legs up under him, making himself comfortable. Paul got up and walked over to the music system to change the CD’s, all the while going over their conversation in his head. The music poured out of the speakers, washing over him, leaving him untouched by its beauty.
Paul had never felt so at odds with himself in his life.
* * * * * *
Adam pushed the sheet off his warm body. He could have blamed his insomnia on the heat, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t drive the conversation with Paul from his mind.
As soon as he’d caught the hitch in Paul’s breathing when Adam had steered the talk around to BDSM, he knew that was what Paul had wanted. As if the overheard phone call hadn’t already made it obvious.
Paul was all about the kink.
Adam knew he’d done the right thing in keeping the conversation so matter-of-fact. The faint hope had swelled within him that afternoon, when he’d sat there, locked in a moment of intimacy, his fingers gently tracing Paul’s features….
He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want a lover. He wants a Dom.
The thought stopped him dead in his tracks. It hadn’t occurred to Adam up until that moment that
he
wanted a lover. Adam Kent didn’t have
lovers
. He had submissives. Hook-ups. Maybe that was why he’d broken it all down until it had sounded like one of his contracts. Familiar ground.
In all his years in the BDSM community, Adam had never fallen for a submissive. He’d prided himself on his ability to keep his heart locked up safe.
Heaviness spread through him,
pulsed
through him in a slow, relentless tide.
I’ve never fallen for anyone.
When had there been time for romance? When had he ever made
time
for romance? Certainly not in the military. And not in the years he’d spent crewing boats. At the club he’d been Master Adam, the tough son of a bitch who…
Who’s never been in love.
Fuck, he was so weary of keeping things cool, detached, unemotional.
Adam reflected on what he’d said to Paul, about no romantic entanglements. He knew why he’d said it, to reassure Paul things weren’t going to get messy. If he treated Paul like a sub, then there was no problem, right? He didn’t get involved with subs, right? And if Adam went into this whole situation with the aim of not involving his heart, then both of them would be happy. It was just sex.
Right?
Right
?
Something had awoken Paul way before his alarm. He rubbed his eyes as he lay there, the sunlight already creeping through his curtains, Paul trying to shove off the last vestiges of sleep.
There was something I had to do….
Adam’s writing. His independence.
That was it.
He got out of bed and went to use the bathroom, his mind still focused on his task. He pulled on a pair of shorts and headed down to the kitchen to make some coffee. He needed the caffeine to give his brain its wake-up call.
Once he had his mug, Paul entered the office, sat at the desk and took out a notepad and pen from the drawer. He scribbled down his thoughts, pausing now and again to sit back and drink more coffee, before coming back to his task. After fifteen minutes he’d amassed a comprehensive list. More coffee was needed before he went any further, and he padded barefoot into the kitchen with his empty mug. It was only as he poured out the coffee that he thought of something else to add to the list.
Settling into the comfortable office chair, Paul switched on the PC and monitor.
That was as far as he got. He didn’t have the password.
Damn it.
There was nothing he could do until Adam got up. Adam’s laptop was still in the box he’d brought down from the attic, but he wasn’t about to touch that. His plans would have to wait.
Paul went back upstairs and grabbed a T-shirt. He paused at Adam’s door, listening for any sign that his boss was awake.
“You can come in, you know.” The note of wry humor didn’t escape him.
Paul smiled to himself and entered. Adam was lying in bed, looking alert. Paul came around to his side of the bed. “Good morning. Would you like me to bring you some coffee?”
Adam smiled and propped himself up on his elbows. “That would be good. What got you out of bed so early this morning? It isn’t even seven yet.”
Shit
. “Did I wake you?”
Adam shook his head. “It wasn’t a great night for me.”
Now that he mentioned it, Paul could tell. The dark smudges under Adam’s eyes said it all.
“I’ll go fetch the coffee.” Paul left him and descended the staircase, his mind still on his list. He wanted to spend the morning conducting some online research, and if it went well, Adam’s immediate future would undergo some changes. But there was a way he could make the start of the day a good deal more pleasant.
Paul retrieved bread from the freezer and popped the slices into the toaster. He poured out a mug of coffee for Adam, and while the bread was toasting, he filled a bowl with muesli, slicing up strawberries and adding them to it. When he was finished, he carried a tray up to Adam’s room, backing up to the door with care.
Adam sniffed the air and arched his eyebrows. “Breakfast in bed?” His lips twitched. “Okay. What have you broken?”
Paul guffawed. “I see. I try to do something nice, and this is the thanks I get. I can always take it away, y’know.”
“No!”
Paul snickered. “Then think next time before you try to be funny at my expense.”
Adam sat up in bed and positioned a pillow in his lap. Paul placed the tray there and tried not to laugh when Adam attacked the toast with gusto.
“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll collect the tray later.”
Adam nodded, his mouth full. Paul exited after collecting the laundry from Adam’s hamper. He wanted the mundane tasks over so he could get started, but all of that required Adam’s presence.
Paul would have to be patient.
By the time Adam surfaced, Paul had the washing machine going, the kitchen shining, and the library dusted. Adam paused in the kitchen doorway. “My, you’ve been industrious this morning.”
Paul stopped and stared. “How do you know?” It took him a moment to realize what was different: Adam wasn’t wearing his glasses.
Adam chuckled. “I can smell lavender furniture polish in the library, the washing machine just entered its spin cycle and in here it smells of disinfectant.” He folded his arms across his chest and grinned. “How did I do?”
“You get a pat on the head for being observant, and a slap for doubting my motives.” Paul was definitely feeling bolder. “And I need to talk to you.”
Adam grimaced. “Not on one mug of coffee, you don’t.”
Paul laughed and went to pour out another. By the time he turned around, Adam was seated at the table. He joined him and sat opposite.
“What are we discussing?”
Paul leaned back. “It’s something you’ve mentioned a couple of times, but I wanted to know more. You said you went to Torquay. Why there?”
Adam took a long drink from his mug before answering. “When I left the hospital, the therapists there arranged for me to stay at a rehab center for the blind in order to acclimatize myself to my future. I stayed at the manor house for a month, and spent the time working one-to-one with a tutor. The aim was to give vision-impaired people the skills and confidence they needed to cope independently at home. They gave us an insight into Braille, got us to master finding our way around a kitchen… ”
Paul thought quickly. “I don’t understand. If that was the case, then why—”
“Why am I so hopeless?” Adam interjected. “Because I didn’t want to know.” He sighed. “A lot of it has to do with my mind-set at the time. It was too soon after losing my sight completely. I’d retreated into a very dark place inside myself and the last thing I felt like doing was trying to learn a whole new set of skills.” He shook his head. “I was a terrible student. I didn’t want to listen.”
“You didn’t get a lot out of the experience, then.”
Adam’s face fell. “No. The most useful part of it all was the braille, and finding this.” He tapped his watch with a finger. “So at least I could see how quickly time was passing.” He snorted. “I had little else to do, after all. My friends decided to give me a wider berth, as if they didn’t want to be associated with disability.”
“Did you want them to see you?” Paul asked, lowering his voice.
Adam hesitated before responding. “That’s actually a fair point. I wasn’t the same person after I’d lost my sight.”
“In what way?” Paul wanted to know more.
“I suppose my personality underwent a change, for one thing. I became a loner who had acquaintances rather than friends. My attitude to London changed completely. I was living in one of the most vibrant, bustling cities in the world, and I’d never felt so alone.” Adam drank his coffee, his brow furrowed.