“Accidentally on purpose.”
I scratch my beard. “That sounds like entrapment. No, I’m not playing silly buggers like that. I need to be professional. I’m an adult. I can control my desire. I was a fool to even ask you both here tonight. I’m being a numpty.
“You’re not,” Calvin says. “You’re attracted to someone.”
“If we’d met in a bar…” I sigh and stare around the pub.
It’s not exactly the kind of place you go to hook up with anyone. I haven’t been to that sort of bar or club in some time. When you hit a certain age, you seem to become invisible.
“Maybe the party will help get him out of your system,” Gabe says.
Maybe. Everyone Archie sent invites to has confirmed they're coming, and I know three or four of them will bring men I've never met. Often, it's guys that went to one of the monthly munches, looking to get into the local scene. They act as a sort of vetting process for events like mine. They're low-key meetups, often in public places, where people new to the BDSM community, the area, or both come to find out more about the local scene. I don't mind the men I know bringing new guys to the parties as long as they're fucking sure they're over twenty and that they're going to follow the rules. I don't want anyone getting hurt—physically or emotionally—at or as a result of one of my parties. They're safe spaces for like-minded men to meet up and explore their kinky desires.
"Or you could just tell him how you feel about him," Calvin says. "You're used to burning through one PA a week anyway."
“I don’t go through that many.”
“Two a month, then.”
“Cheeky fucker.”
I'm only grumbly about it because he's right. I can't stand incompetence or people who can't work off their own initiative. A PA is supposed to make my life easier and give me more time to write, not need constant hand-holding and supervision.
“I was joking earlier,” Gabe says. “But now I’m being dead serious. It’s clear you like him, but you’re also looking for excuses not to act on the way you’re feeling. If you don’t like the idea of having a relationship with someone you have to work with, sack him and then ask him out.”
I start to shake my head, but a firm look from Gabe stills me. That’s the snag when your best friends are all Doms. It can get into a pissing match of who’s the sterner man.
“I think the real problem is, you’ve convinced yourself he’ll say no.”
Damn it, but he’s right.
“But you don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling, and you’ll never know unless you ask. So stop making excuses, and just tell him how you feel.”
I avoid saying anything by downing my pint in one go. I slam the glass on the table and wipe the froth from my mouth and beard with the back of my hand. I'm a coward, and that's the real problem. It's also a harder obstacle to get over than the rights and wrongs of fucking or dating my PA.
“Whatareyou going to do?” Calvin asks.
I shrug. “Fuck if I know.”
7
Archie
It’s Thursday evening. I’ve just sat down with a beer and a film when Blake gets home, all bouncy and excited. I pause the film and turn to look at him as he raids the fridge.
"The photo shoot went well?"
“It was amazing!” His eyes are bright. “Where’s Corey?”
“Parents’ evening.”
“Oh. Another one?”
“The last one was a term ago.”
“It was?”
I shake my head. Sometimes I don’t know how Blake manages to get to the end of a day without mishap. He grabs himself a soft drink and then comes to sit with me.
