It felt so perfect, so right. For the first time, it actually seemed possible to Scott that what they had could last forever; that Joe could want him for an entire lifetime.
The kiss ended, but neither Scott nor Joe pulled away. Their lips remained just a breath apart. Joe tilted his head and brought his temple to rest against Scott’s forehead.
“I love you. I may not be the kind of guy who remembers to say it as often as I should; but every time you touch this collar, every time it moves against your skin or you feel its weight around your neck, that’s what it means.”
Scott closed his eyes very tightly. Without being conscious of it, he lifted his hand and hooked two fingers through the collar right alongside Joe’s fingers.
I love you, too.Except Scott was certain that Joe wasn’t saying anything to him just to hear it echoed back at him.
“Thank you, s-sir.” That seemed like a far more appropriate response.
* * * * *
Joe smiled down at Scott.
Was there a different light in his eyes when Scott looked up at him in return? It would be wonderful to think so, but it would probably be equally unrealistic to expect a collar to act like a magic wand.
“Come on, before I get carried away and screw you right here on the floor.”
Scott parted his lips.
“Not an option,” Joe cut in, before Scott had a chance to tell him just how fine he would be with that scenario.
Scott put his lips back together.
“Time for you to get changed,” Joe said. “Give me your coat.”
Scott gave up the garment without a word.
Glancing across to the club’s rear entrance, Joe saw that Frank and Tony were nearly done with their smoke break. “Hey, you two.” They turned to face him. “Bugger off.”
Both men laughed and good-naturedly made their way past the makeshift sitting area and on into the club. As Frank passed, Joe reached out and shook hands with him; Scott didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about that.
Satisfied that all was going to plan, Joe waited until the other two men were out of sight. Sitting back in his seat, he nodded to the bag. “Your new club clothes are in the centre section.”
Scott opened the bag with obvious caution. Joe watched him pull out the pair of leather trousers he’d bought for him, then the simple white sleeveless T-shirt. Right at the bottom were the traditional military style boots, complete with some thick socks.
Joe was reasonably sure he knew Scott’s body perfectly. He’d run his hands over every inch of him often enough. He smiled to himself as Scott bashfully stripped off, then proved him correct in every estimated measurement. The trousers fitted Scott like a second skin. Catching hold of Scott’s hips, Joe pulled him forward to stand directly in front of his seat.
“Perfect.”
Even in the muted storeroom lights, the silver collar shone beautifully. Joe adjusted it so the little tag attached to it lay neatly against the notch between Scott’s collarbones.
It really was so bloody tempting to just take Scott home. Only the fact that it would bugger-up all the timings he’d worked out, kept Joe from doing exactly that.
Joe stood up. Standing around in the queue out front would make Scott nervous. Sod that. Nothing was allowed to ruin their night. Taking Scott by the hand, Joe led him into the club the back way.
As they entered the public areas, Joe kept walking, refusing to give Scott a moment to build his nerves up to monumental proportions. Within a minute, they stood alongside the bar. For once, having worked in damn near every leather flavoured club and pub in the city worked in Joe’s favour.
“Two barman specials,” he said to a familiar face, handing over his cash.
Two beer bottles were duly passed across the stained wooden surface with a friendly nod of recognition. Joe handed one bottle to Scott before moving to stand behind him so he could wrap his arms comfortably around Scott. The gesture was only partially about making Scott feel safe. He was also marking his territory in front of the other doms present.
Pinning Scott’s back against his chest, Joe spread out his fingers and covered Scott’s abs with as much of his hand as possible.
“Don’t just cradle your drink,” he ordered. “Take a swig. It will cool your nerves.”
Scott did as he was told, just as Joe had come to expect, but one sip had Scott frowning at the bottle.
