I finally manage to get the door open and Luca leans over me, grabs the edge and holds it open. A gentleman through and through. Unless he’s pulling my hair and making me beg.
But that’s not today.
I slip in and step to the side. Just ‘cause I go in first doesn’t mean I want to be first. I wait for Luca and slip my hand into his. Except the thick calluses aren’t familiar and I glance up to see who I’m touching, only for my gaze to settle on Zeke’s smirk.
I try to tug free, but he doesn’t let me. “Hey, Tevin.”
Through the doorway I can see Luca hanging back, an equally cocky smirk in place.
“Zeke?” He’s the one holding me captive. And I can’t figure out how I feel about that fact.
He leans down, whispering in my ear. “I thought you could introduce me around, little one.”
Hot. Damn. That’s so close to my hot button endearment that I shiver.
“Um,” I swallow past the lump in my throat, will that zing of arousal to cool. “Yeah. Yeah, we can grab something from the buffet. Visit. Yeah. I can do that.” I’m rambling, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s just smiling ear to ear and moving deeper into the room, grip firm as he tugs me toward the buffet.
I grab a plate and silverware. I mean, I’m not usually so eager to please, but there’s something about Zeke...his shifts from assertive to gentle and back again. He just makes me want to take care of him a little bit.
“What would you like?” I’ve got the plate in hand, ready to serve, to dart for whatever he’s craving.
Instead, he tugs it from me. “Why don’t you find us a seat? I’ll get some food for us.” His voice is deep, soothing.
“But-”
“Go ahead, little man.” It’s a whispered order. Somehow he can sound sweet when he’s telling me what to do. And I should refuse because this is a munch. Not a play space and not the time to figure out who’s in charge.
Of course, I listen anyway. Mostly because he’s calling me “little man” and it just gets to me. Makes me wonder if he has kinks similar to mine.
I spy Luca toward the back of the room, talking with the owner of the restaurant, and his table’s pretty empty. Moving with purpose, I snag two chairs, nudging others closer together to give Zeke more room.
Luca sees what I’m doing, what I’ve done, and simply gives me a nod before he returns to his conversation with the owner and part of me shines.
I did a good job.
Go me.
Before I’m ready, Zeke is there, a single plate piled high, a little subbie I know named Karen trailing after him with two glasses of water.
I rise to take the glasses, help them how I can, and he just orders me around. “Sit. We’re fine.”
I do as he says, popping back into my chair, and wait for him to get settled. The subbie places the glasses on the table and then stands ready for a mere moment before Zeke dismisses her. “Tell your Master that I appreciate your assistance and that you did a wonderful job.”
Karen blushes under his praise before scurrying away and suddenly I’m the center of Zeke’s attention, face burning under his scrutiny. God, I stripped to almost nothing in front of the man yet sitting here, fully clothed, unnerves me.
He leans toward me, as if what he’s about to say is a secret between us. “What would you like first?”
I quirk a brow, noticing that there’s exactly one plate and one fork. “I think we’re missing a little something.”
He winks at me. “Not a thing, Tev. Now, what would you like to snack on first?”
Uneasy, I glance at the plate and my mouth waters at the idea of munching on a bit of fried calamari. But before I can ask, he’s dipping a piece in red sauce and bringing it to my lips, watching as I open my mouth and pull it free from the fork.
“Good boy.” His voice is low, barely loud enough for me to hear, but my dick doesn’t have that trouble. I’m rock hard before he finishes the word “boy”, nearly whimpering with the sudden tightness in my jeans.
Fuck.
This continues. Zeke feeding me, giving me praise as I eat, exchanging information about each other.
Zeke spent twenty years in the military, making him nearly twenty years older than me. Geez, I’m robbing the nursing home.
But it’s those eyes that make me not care about his age. The sea blue, the gentleness, the disapproval, the anger. It all travels through his eyes.
It’s not long before the plate is empty and I realize I’ve eaten most of the food he’d brought, him barely taking a bite as we talked. “Oh, shit. I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
His hand on mine, a soft squeeze, stops me from rising completely. “Shh, it was all for you. Sit down. I ate plenty and the demonstration’s getting ready to start.”
Right. The demo. But I can’t quit thinking about the fact that a man three times my size ate merely half of what I did. I squirm, wanting to scramble and fill a plate for him, serve him, make him happy. Only, I think it’s the “making him happy” aspect that’s pushing hardest. I want those smiles.
He rests his arm on the back of my chair, easing down in his, spreading his legs and it looks like he’s getting comfortable.
I fidget. Cause that’s what I do when there’s something I want to do and can’t. I pick at my nails, bounce my knee. Whatever I can do.
Then a warm hand is on the back of my neck, thumb pressing just below my ear for a moment before it’s stroking the sensitive skin. Zeke.
It’s soothing, having him touch me like this, just petting me in a way that’s not obvious to everyone. I’m not sprawled all over his lap, searching for his tonsils in a kiss that never ends. Oh, I’d like to do that. Just not in the middle of Gianni’s.
Besides, there’re plenty of other people putting on that kind of show.
The wiggle’s slow, but the tension remains. Humming.
Again, he leans close, like every word between us is a secret. “You need to relax, Tevin. You’ll learn that I mean what I say. Let’s get through the demonstration and maybe we can go somewhere. Talk. Huh?”
Yeah. Talk. I can do that. Right.
* * *
When the demo’s over and everyone’s back to eating and socializing, we duck out, Zeke holding my hand as he tugs me toward the front door, eventually the sidewalk.
“Where are we headed, little one? It’s your city.”
And there’s only one place I want him. “We could go to my place. It’s nearby and we could watch the game, order pizza...whatever.”
Please, if there is a god, let him interpret that right.
Because, really? I want him. I have no idea if his kinks are anywhere near mine, but even if I only get some cuddles out of our time, I’d be happy.
He releases my hand, traces the line of my jaw with a finger and brushes my lower lip, teasing me, tempting me, making my dick go hard. “That sounds good, little one. Where’s your car?”
“Oh. I live a couple blocks down. I walked.”
His eyes narrow, disapproval written all over his face. True, the area isn’t the greatest, but it’s not bad. I mean, we are near Crestview, right? It’s just that even bad neighborhoods can be near good ones.
“You walked?”
I nod. I’m not going to feel bad about this. At least, not a lot.
“Well, I’m driving. Come on.” He laces his fingers with mine, pulling me toward the parking lot and a large, black SUV. I’m realizing he’s doing a lot of leading while I’m following.
I’m also realizing that I don’t care all that much. I may, at some point, but right now it’s all good.
A beep comes from the car, headlights flash once, and then Zeke’s holding the passenger door open for me while I crawl in. Within moments, he’s across from me, engine rumbling while he pulls out of the parking space and I give him directions to my apartment.
Okay, now, I’m thinking going to my place might have been a bad idea.
Again, the area isn’t bad, per se, but it’s got character. Which is a nice way of saying it’s sorta run down.
Zeke’s frowning as he pulls into a space. “Tevin...”
“It looks a lot better on the inside. Besides, it’s, like, a historic landmark or something.” Okay, that was a lie, but it’s got wood floors that I wax once a week and a large living room for me to practice in. I don’t really care that the walls are thin or that I can’t play my music very loud. Who didn’t like classical?
Oh. Right. Mrs. Murphy downstairs.
This time, I lead while we stomp up the stairs, me digging in my pocket as we approach the front door. I precede Zeke, snagging an errant shirt from the floor while I lead him into the apartment, trying to remember if I even bothered to tidy my room, even a bit, before I left today.
Zeke’s quiet while I kick off my shoes, pad through the apartment, him trailing behind until we get to the living room. It’s sparse, furniture pushed to the edges of the room. But it’s home.
“Here,” I snag a pair of jeans from the couch. “Have a seat and I’ll get some drinks, yeah?” I head over to the coffee table, lift it off the floor and then he’s there, plucking the thing from my hands like it weighs nothing.
“What are you doing?” He’s growly and that weird part of me that likes it gets turned on.
I stand up, arms crossed over my chest. I can be just as growly and I’m not some porcelain doll. “I’m moving the table so you have somewhere to put your feet. And your drink.”
“I can do that.” He turns and thumps it down on the ground before he’s facing me again, hands on his hips.
“So can I. I do it all the time, damn it.”
He narrows his eyes, glaring at me. “Is that necessary?”
I pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. “What? Moving the table? Yes, I dance in the middle of the room and don’t usually have it in front of the couch. I thought I’d move it to make you more comfortable.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I’m not really doing this right, am I?”
The shift catches me off-guard and I drop my belligerent stance. “What?”
He waves a hand between us. “This.” Zeke runs a hand through his hair, ruffling the style, leaving bits standing straight and making me giggle.
The tension eases in a moment and he’s half-glaring, half-smiling at me. “What are you laughing at, Tev.”
I can’t hold back the smile, the bark of laughter. “Mister Domm-y man not knowing what to do.”
With a growl, he’s after me, laughter in his eyes, and I’m racing to the bedroom. I want him there, but if it doesn’t go further than a tackle, at least I’ll fall on something soft.
I’m ducking around furniture in the dining room, slithering down a hallway and tumbling into the bedroom, the big man on my heels, and he tackles me from behind, sending us flying onto the bed. But he’s bracing his weight, like he knows how big he is and doesn’t want to hurt me.
Zeke’s laughing, whole body shaking with it. He rests his head on my shoulder, taking deep breaths. “You’ll keep me on my toes, won’t you?”
I wiggle against him, against the flesh growing hard on top of me. “Maybe.”
“Hmm...Definitely.” He eases to the side and I do the same until we’re facing each other. We’re on equal ground now, two men lounging on a rumpled bed. Eye to eye.
“It’s not a line, but I feel like I know you. And it’s hard not to tackle you, make you mine.”
Zeke’s words floor me and turn me on at the same time. I’m having a very hard time figuring out which head to listen to.
For now, it’s the big one. Damn it.
“What makes you think I’d let you?” I’m not a pushover sub who runs into anyone’s arms. Regardless of how I’m acting with him.
“Because you want to. Because every time I talked to Luca these past few years, he’s told me about you. About your dancing. Your injury, recovery and eventually, ending up at his club.” He reaches out, strokes his fingers along the length of my arm and twines his fingers with mine.
I like it. Like touching without sex being the result. Affection.
“I know how you play with him. About how you’d like to play with someone who can meet your needs.”
My mouth goes dry. I don’t care that he knows about Luca. It’s not a secret I’d ever keep. He’s a good boss, but a better friend and no matter what, any other man would have to accept Luca’s presence in my life and what he represents.
It’s the other part I have difficulty with. I lick my lips, suddenly unsure. “What do you mean?” My voice is barely a whisper.
Zeke pulls my hand up, kisses the back of it with a gentle press of his lips. “You want a partner and a Daddy. Someone who’ll treat your right, but make you do things you think you don’t want to do. Who’ll take care of you, treasure you like you should be.”
Age play isn’t really popular in our local scene. Oh, Luca indulges me now and again, but it isn’t his kink and he’ll only go as far as calling me puppy.
I decide to play it off. Like it isn’t a big deal that Luca’s been revealing my secrets. “You have been talking.”
I try to play it off, smirk and wink.
He doesn’t buy it.
Zeke pulls me to him until my body is aligned with his, head resting on his shoulder. “Don’t belittle yourself, what you like.” He strokes my back, small circles, before he brings his hand to the back of my neck, thumb rubbing the spot beneath my ear once again. “I swear, I think I’ve already fallen in love with you even if I don’t know a damn thing about you.”
I start, pushing on his chest so I can look in his eyes. Love is...deep. Too deep.
“Shh... I’m not saying I am in love with you. Just that it’s very, very close based on all of the stories I’ve heard over the years.” I relax again, just listening to his deep voice. “About how your first scene went and that Luca nearly kicked the guy’s ass, then took care of you. And then the first time the two of you played. That you worked so hard just to rebuild your strength and still couldn’t get back on stage and then you ended up at his club. Your life for the past several years has been described in excruciating detail by that meddling man.”
I snort. Meddling is right.
I prop my chin on his chest, stealing a peek at Zeke. “Are you disappointed?”
“Nope. You?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.” He leans closer, kisses the tip of my nose. “How about we give it a shot, hmm? Are your limits still condoms, no fluids, nothing but bruises and no sharing?”