“Well, the one I’d definitely want to try, but won’t because it’s way above my financial possibilities, is Whisper. I’ve only heard the best things about that club, and if it’s half as good as the website suggests, it’s an absolute winner.”
Tim sighed. “Yeah, I’ve looked at Whisper as well. I met somebody who’s a member, and apparently the website doesn’t do it justice at all, but like you, I don’t see myself there.”
“Which leaves us with…?”
“I don’t know, man. I thought about checking out Club Eros. It seems tamer than Club Submission and has an okay reputation. Though I have to admit my sense for adventure has been dampened by tonight’s events.” Tim smiled ruefully.
Andrew could only nod in agreement. He hadn’t expected to find the perfect club on his first night out, but he was disappointed about the outcome nevertheless. “How about we give it another try next week? I’d certainly prefer to have somebody like-minded at my side when I brave another club.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve got lots of work anyway, so how about we try Club Eros next Saturday?”
“I’m in. Here, give me your contact info.” Andrew held out his smartphone. Tim typed his information in, and Andrew sent him his own. “Thank you. I’m glad I finally met somebody outside of work, who shares my kink no less. It was getting lonely.”
Tim gestured for the waiter to bring them another round of beer. “I’m glad too. I was getting desperate. Not everybody can handle my brand of humor, but you seem like a tough guy.” He grinned, showing all his teeth, and Andrew was sure they would be getting along great.
“I like your humor. And I like men who don’t have a problem saying what’s on their mind. There’s nothing I hate more than guess-the-problem games.”
“Amen to that.” The waiter brought them their new beers and they toasted.
“To new friendships and finding the perfect club.” Andrew raised the glass to his mouth.
“To new friendships, finding the perfect club,andthe perfect sub.” Tim grinned. “I like to aim high.”
“Then that’s what we do.”
Chapter 3
“AS STARTERS,we’d like the shrimp and octopus in lime, please. And your famous melon drinks, virgin. We don’t need any wine.”
Curtis handed the waitress their menus back. She took them with a polite smile before clearing their wineglasses. When she left the table, Collin started to talk immediately.
“Oooh, I just love it here. It always smells so good and everybody is so friendly, and I think you look really cool when you order, all self-confident and polite and knowing, as if there’s nothing in the world you haven’t seen or tasted yet, and is that actually possible, because I think there’s always something new to discover, and you didn’t know about peanut butter, jelly, and banana sandwiches—” Curtis couldn’t suppress a shudder when Collin mentioned this special food from hell. “—and I’m sure Dean knows many more such things because Emily likes the funniest food, like pasta with eggs, sugar, and applesauce, and I never thought that could be good, but it totally is, and Richard said if Dean ever made that again when he’s home, he’s going to spank him so hard he won’t be able to sit down for aweek, so I think Dean is totally going to do it, because he loves getting spanked.”
Curtis smiled at Collin, though the mention of pasta and sugar in one sentence had his stomach rolling. He was a delicate eater, and one of the reasons he was so glad to be living in the States now most of the time was that he didn’t have to face “traditional” English food like bangers and mash or black pudding anymore. While he understood that everybody’s tastes ran differently, the mere memory of evenings spent trying not to throw up his portion of black pudding while his parents happily nagged each other about anything and everything, was enough to have him shuddering. Americans had their share of doubtful foods as well, but Curtis had found out most things tasted okay when fried.
The waitress brought their drinks and Collin’s smile broadened. He inhaled deeply, with his eyes closed, his way of assessing food. “This smells great, like summer and blue and green and orange and red all in one, warm and spicy, yet with a cool undertone. I wonder how that would look on a canvas or maybe in glass. I could try working with glass again—or wax. Wax is a good medium and it doesn’t have to be so hot to work with it, so I’ll have to order wax, and I only hope they still have the original beeswax tiles at the art supply, because the ones with paraffin just don’t work the way I want them to, and they don’t smell even half as good as the others.”
Curtis gave a serious nod, knowing how hard it was for Collin to find the perfect mediums for his art sometimes. He raised his glass in a cheerful toast. “To a highly successful second BDSM exhibition. The pieces you created were stunning and our customers beyond happy to purchase them.”
Collin beamed. “It went pretty well, didn’t it, even though I didn’t get to do the chainsaw demonstration, but you were right, most of the Doms there probably wouldn’t have appreciated it, and I was so nervous, I was glad I didn’t have to wield anything sharp, and I talked to Martin and he said it’s up to me, because it’s my money, so I wanted to give you this, because I don’t really need it and I just can’t express how happy I am that you’re helping me and taking care of me and that you’re my friend.” With that, Collin put the glass down to retrieve something from the front pocket of his washed-out jeans. Curtis found it funny how Collin still wore mostly old and battered clothing, despite himself and his fiancé being so rich. It fitted him, though. Now Collin held out a piece of paper, and when Curtis took it to see what it was, he couldn’t suppress a gasp. It was a check for over half a million dollars.
“Collin, you can’t….”
“I can. Martin says it’s my money and I wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway, and you do so much for me, and there’s no way I can ever thank you enough, and I know you have a lot of money yourself, but I thought maybe there’s something you really want and haven’t bought because it would just be an indulgence, and I know you try not to buy things just for the sake of buying, which I think is great, because many people just lose themselves in the rush of spending money, and that’s scary, because money should be there to feed and clothe you, but not to eat your soul, and since this is money from me, you can spend it without feeling bad about it.” Collin’s smile was a bit anxious, and Curtis knew better than to reject his gift. He would talk to Martin later to figure out what they would do with the money.
“Thank you, Collin. That was very thoughtful of you.” He put the check in his wallet. “I’ll make sure to put it to good use. Now should we talk about the exhibition?”
Before Collin could answer, the waitress brought their shrimp and octopus salad. She served it with a polite smile and then refilled their water glasses. The excellent service was one of the reasons Curtis liked to come to OLA, the other being the fact that it was close to the botanical garden, which he loved at every time of the year. They both had their first mouthful of the salad, and it was as good as it looked. Collin moaned happily.
“This is wonderful. I have to tell Martin to come here with me. He loves seafood. He loves any kind of food, really, especially when he doesn’t have to cook it himself, so coming here would be killing two birds with one stone, and have you never thought this expression is kind of odd, because I don’t think it’s possible, unless you hit the first bird and that one is so big, that when it hits the second one, it kills it with its sheer weight, and it’s sad anyway, and Wilma and Fred only get one bird in one go, though Dean says they’re mostly too lazy to hunt anyway because cats are like that.”
Curtis nodded. He was by now so well acquainted with Collin’s way of expressing himself, he sometimes got caught off guard when talking to other people and expecting them to go on and on. And since they had seen even more of each other before the exhibition, he was fully in tune with Collin’s trains of thought. There was one thing, though, which they had to talk about.
“Collin, in regard to the exhibition, I wanted to talk to you about the two Doms who wanted to buy theSleeping Sub.”
A look of defiance appeared on Collin’s face. “The sculpture was all wrong for them. They wouldn’t have been happy with it, and then they would have sold it, and then it would have ended up somewhere terrible! I couldn’t give it to them, Curtis. I just couldn’t!”
“I understand, Collin, I do. And it’s not that I want you to sell your work to people who won’t be able to appreciate it or are unfit to own it. I wanted to talk to you about how to steer your customers in a way that leaves them feeling—let’s call it superior, for lack of a better word.”
