Excerpt
He headed directly to the bar, pausing here and there to say hello to a few of the club regulars. Incognito was like a second home to him. A place to come to relax. And even if he hadn't been in the mood to get laid, which more times than not was the case when he came here, there was always a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to shoot the breeze with.
He went to the end of the bar since all the stools were filled. "I'll take a Bud," he said to Tyrone. He turned and leaned an elbow against the bar as he scoped out the pickings. As usual on a Saturday night, the club was at near capacity. Almost every table was filled with couples or small groups. Music pulsed from the hidden speakers in the ceiling, and men and women alike danced on the stage in various degrees of dress-or more precisely undress. He wondered if there would be any scenes played out tonight. Sometimes dancers got carried away and... He grinned and tipped back the beer Tyrone had put in front of him.
He felt good tonight. He'd had a relaxing day at home; he'd met up with a couple buddies and played Frisbee on the beach for several hours, then he'd soaked in the hot tub. For the first time in a long time he was totally relaxed.
Tristan approached, head lowered in submission. He was one of the fewer bigger slaves. He wasn't as tall as James, was pale compared to James' darkness, but he wasn't boyish in build.
Fuck. Why was he thinking of James? He'd put the man out of his head. Period. End of discussion.
Tristan dropped to his knees in front of Soren. The submissive posture usually set his blood to heating, but tonight he felt nothing much more than...weak amusement. He frowned and tapped Tristan on the shoulder. "Get up."
Tristan obeyed.
"Speak."
Tristan raised his chin just enough to make sure his words would be clear, but never raised his eyes. "If it pleases you, Master Soren, I am yours for the evening."
Not even an inkling of arousal stirred in Soren's blood. "Thank you for the offer, slave, but I think I'll be flying solo tonight."
Tristan bowed. "As you wish, Master."
"You're free to go."
Tristan bowed again, lower, then turned and walked away.
Huh. He tipped his beer and took a few long swallows. That was strange. He liked Tristan. A lot. Tristan was a good lover and never asked for any of the personal attention some slaves craved. He didn't need praise and coddling. Tristan always let Soren use his body any way he wished then left the room without a word when Soren released him.
He drained the beer and set the bottle on the bar. When he caught Tyrone's eye, he motioned for another. As he lifted the beer to his lips, he glanced back at the room in time to see James come through the main door.
Soren's pulse quickened, and his skin tingled. James made his way through the room neither looking left or right. His eyes downcast, he scooted up to the bar and carefully wedging himself between two strays sitting back to back. He ordered a beer and dropped a bill on the counter to pay for it. When Tyrone slid it across the bar to him, he took it and moved away. James drank down half the beer in a long swallow then swiped the back of his hand over his mouth.
He scanned the room, as if looking for someone-Me? Soren thought. But then he headed to a quiet corner where one lone table sat empty. He seemed to collapse into the chair, his back to the room, and cradled his head in his hands.
Soren was halfway across the room before he stopped himself. What was he doing? He'd put James out of his mind. Decided James was not for him.
But he looked so... Soren had thought he'd seen sadness in James' eyes before, but his hunched shoulders, the way he sat practically curled in on himself-something wasn't right. He couldn't in good conscience walk away. Not if he could help. Even if James just needed an ear or a shoulder.
He went to the table next to James and motioned to the Domme sitting there with three sexy young strays, silently asking if the empty chair was truly vacant. She batted her long, fake eyelashes and smiled. "It's all yours, darling."
He grinned and grabbed it, swung it around right next to James, and straddled it so he was within inches of the other man. "Hey, buddy. How you doin'?"
Soren wasn't prepared for the utter desolation in James' dark eyes. "Leave me the fuck alone. I can't deal with you tonight." His voice was soft, emotionless, as if his entire world had come to an end. He turned back to staring at the table, his head propped on his hands as if his neck didn't have the strength to do it.
Soren's brain warred with him. He should go, as James wished. But he couldn't leave him. With the way he looked, Soren didn't think he should be left alone.
After a few long minutes, James tipped back his beer and finished it. Then he turned toward Soren. "What do you want from me?" He shoved back from the table and got to his feet.
Soren surged up and blocked him against the wall. "I want to make sure you're all right. You don't look so good."
James met his eyes and a little of the indignation seemed to seep out of him as his shoulders relaxed. "I'm fine. Bad day. I'll survive. Thanks."
He didn't sound fine. Soren took a small step closer, until their chests nearly touched. He could smell James' subtle, musky cologne, and his heat. He wanted to bury his face against James' neck and taste his flesh again. He wanted to breathe him in, and then sink into his body and claim him.
He moved closer still, and their chests brushed. James sucked in a breath but other than that, didn't move. Until Soren dipped his head, intent on tasting James' neck. James turned his head sideways and brushed his mouth against Soren's.
Soren jerked back. He didn't kiss. Ever. Not anyone from the club. Kissing was too intimate. It meant more than a quick fuck. To him, kissing meant a kind of commitment. A way he let very few men into himself. He hadn't kissed anyone since Vance left.
Staring into James' eyes, though, Soren wanted to let him in. James needed it. A good Dom always knew what his sub needed, and right now James needed the comfort of an embrace. Soren raised his hand and cupped the side of James' neck. James' eyelids slowly lowered, and he leaned into the touch.
Soren slowly moved forward until their breaths mingled. James' hand came up to his waist and settled against his hip. And then James was the one to close the small gap between them, their body's pressing flush against each other as Soren claimed his mouth.
James groaned and wrapped his other arm around Soren, splaying his hand over Soren's shoulder blade. There was no mistaking the instant, hard reaction both of their body's experienced as their pelvises pressed together.
James tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth, inviting Soren in. He obliged with a sweep of his tongue, then his own groan escaped. James' mouth was warm and soft. He tasted of beer mixed with coffee.
He pressed James against the wall and rubbed his straining cock against him. Even through layers of leather and denim, Soren could feel his heat. His length and breadth.
In need of oxygen, Soren broke the kiss but, still cradling James' face, dipped his head to nip on the strong column of his neck, to skim his lips over evening whiskers. James sucked in gasps of air and clung to him, his hips thrusting against Soren's.
"More," James whispered as his one hand went up into Soren's hair and held him tight against his neck where he nibbled. "Make me forget today. God, I want oblivion for just one night."
