“Word?” Owenasked.
“Mm, well, after your little show on the dance floor, the regulars have been talking. Crawford is no stranger to taking lovers, but no one haseverseen him collar a boybefore.”
The leather around Owen’s neck itched at the statement, and he lifted his hand impulsively to scratch it. The woman’s gaze followed his hand, observing the collar still partially concealed behind his shirt. He’d need to undo some of his buttons before he found Crawford. After going all week locked in a cock cage, Owen needed release. He wasn’t going to jeopardize his pleasure bymisbehaving.
“You know,” she said. “If I were you, I’d wear that collar proudly. Bagging Mr. Daniels is nothing to turn your nose up at. The man isgorgeous, but he’s also a damn good dom. All of the gay submissives here are out of their minds not to fall at his feet and beg for hiscollar.”
“Does he have other submissives?” Owen asked. The thought had crossed his mind, but he never let himself linger on it. Imagining Crawford pleasuring and teasing another man in the way he’d done to Owen made Owen feelterrible.
“Not regularly. Never one he keeps.Certainlynever one he collars.” The woman pursed her lips and pushed them out, then shook her head. “Until you, that is. I don’t know where you met, or how you caught his eye, but you should know that you landed one of the best doms in this club… but you didn’t hear itfromme.”
“Thanks.” Owen finished filling out the form and slid it back in her direction. “Am I cleared togonow?”
“Your cover’s been prepaid by Mr. Daniels,” the woman said. “You’re goodtogo.”
Owen nodded and headed for the door to the dance floor. The thud of the bass was muffled and distant, but welcoming. In it, he’d find the man he’d been lusting after all week. Owencouldn’twait.
Before Owen pushed through, he hesitated and turned to look toward the desk. There was a question he needed to ask. “I know you already said he’s one of the best doms, but… is Crawford Daniels a goodman,too?”
The woman at the counter leaned forward on her elbows, chin perched in her hands. She looked at him like he was a two year old who’d just asked something adorable. “Crawford Daniels is an exceptionally good man,” she said. “If he’s got his eye on you, it means he’s going to treat you right. I’ve never seen him be anything less than a gentleman toanyone.”
Owen nodded. He pushed open the door, allowing the music from beyond it invaded the room. “Thanksagain.”
“You’re welcome, cutie. Have funtonight.”
Owen slipped through the door, fingers parting the buttons of his shirt onebyone.
13
Crawford
Nine o’clockon aFriday night at The Shepard was early, but Crawford vastly preferred a thin crowd to the trouble that walked through the doors after eleven. As confidently as Owen held himself, Crawford knew he wasn’t ready to play with the more experienced patrons. If he was honest with himself, Crawford wasn’t sure he’deverwant Owen to play with them. There’d never been a time where he’d felt so possessive of a submissive. Owen was special. And as Owen crested the stairs and made his way to Crawford’s booth, Crawford was reminded of just how specialhewas.
Owen’s shirt was folded over his arm, his bare chest on display. It looked even better in real life than it had in the video. Crawford recalled every detail—from the cafe au lait birthmark near Owen’s right hip to the size and color of his nipples. Every detail wasperfect.
The collar secured around his neckdoublyso.
“Sit,” Crawford ordered as Owen approached the table. He gestured to the empty spotbesidehim.
Owensat.
Goosebumps rose up Owen’s arms and his nipples were already erect. Crawford wondered if he was cold, or if he was so strung out after a week locked up that he couldn’t help his heightened state ofarousal.
“Tell me about your week, pet. Have you been good?” As Crawford spoke, he slid his hand over Owen’s thigh, a silent sign of possession. So early into the night, few people had retired to the second floor, but Clarissa watched from across the way. The Shepherd was a community both for the good and for the bad—word would spread. All it took was one pair of eyes to see it. Crawford knew they’d already caused quite a stir last week, and curious eyes would be watching to see what they did this timearound,too.
Owen’s eyes flicked from Crawford’s hand to his face. All Crawford had done was touch his thigh, but Owen’s pupils were already blown out with pleasure, his dark pools of blue drowned in black. Crawford smiled and leaned in toward him, changing his position so he faced Owen as well as hecould.
“Look at you,” Crawford murmured. It didn’t bother him in the least that Owen hadn’t answered his question—just by looking at him, Crawford knew Owen had been good. He’d beenverygood. “You weren’t acting in that video,wereyou?”
“No, sir,” Owen whispered. The utterance tumbled from Owen’s lips and sank straight to Crawford’s cock. Crawford lifted a hand and ran it along Owen’s jaw, savoring the abrasive drag of his stubble. “I was good. I’ve beensogoodforyou.”
If Owen was trying to win his favor, it was working. The hand on Owen’s jaw traced forward, toward his chin, and Crawford let his thumb run along the corner of Owen’s mouth, then across his lips. They weren’t swollen yet, but by the end of the night Crawford wanted to see them red and bruised frompassion.
Owen would be his pampered pet tonight. There was no luxury Crawford would notaffordhim.
“Sir?” Crawford asked, amused. “You’ve got a way with words, don’t you, pet? How is it that you know just whattosay?”
“Because we’re more alike than you think,” Owen replied. The words echoed Crawford’s statement from their last face to face conversation and struck Crawford hard, leaving him near breathless with surprise. Owen nuzzled against Crawford’s hand and chased his thumb with his lips. “We both know whatwewant.”
