SubAir: Love the responses! For me, it's honorifics. Don't have any issue with other people using them, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I call someone sir or master.
SubZero: I can just see it. A Dom leaning over you, all sexy "And what do you call me?" and you’re like "Shut up and get on with it, Charlie".
SubAir: That is going to pop into my head at the most inopportune time…
Chapter 12
AARON
Days were blending together. Between work, furiously unpacking his belongings, and arranging the new furniture, Aaron didn’t come up for air until Thursday afternoon, his stomach fluttering with anticipation for that night. He hadn’t seen Jay, but they’d texted throughout the week, mostly sticking to silly jokes and pictures.
When Jay had sent him a sweaty, smiling post-practice selfie with a soccer ball under his arm, Aaron spent far too long staring at it, imagining peeling that damp tank top from his body.
In return, he sent Jay a shot of himself holding a thick report as if it were a soccer ball, matching Jay’s pose and facial expression exactly. His phone immediately buzzed with a barrage of laughing emojis, making the half an hour he’d wasted trying to get the perfect shot worth it.
They straddled the line between friendly and flirty. So far, their interactions had been strictly platonic. Mostly. There’d been a few charged moments at the club when Jay’s intense gaze lingered on his lips, electricity humming between them, but Jay always looked away first, leaving Aaron confused.
He didn’t even know if Jay liked men. It never came up. At the club, Jay was friendly with everyone, watching demonstrations and performances with curiosity, but never initiating anything. Almost like he was waiting for something, though Aaron wasn’t sure what.
Aaron did his best not to read into Jay’s flirty remarks and heated glances. It would be too easy to let himself believe it meant something, to build it up in his head and end up disappointed. Jay was a sexy, experienced Dom, too young and adventurous to want to saddle himself with a recently divorced, inexperienced sub.
Sure, Aaron knew he was attractive for his age. He was no stranger to interested looks and bold advances at clubs and bars, but he was also realistic. Jay was out of his league, plain and simple.
Otherwise, wouldn’t he have made a move by now?
Aaron rifled through his closet and emerged with a frustrated groan. So far, he’d been wearing his one pair of black jeans and whatever button-down struck his fancy, but he wanted to make an effort tonight. People would be dressed up to model—wearing sleek black leather and latex, their hair perfectly styled, their makeup elaborate and impeccable—and while Aaron had zero desire to have his picture taken, he didn’t want to look drab by comparison.
Unfortunately, his closet had nothing exciting. There’d never been a need for it. With a sigh of frustration, he threw on the jeans and a silky white button-down. The glossy fabric was cool to the touch, hugging his skin and falling just below the waistline when left untucked. After adding eyeliner and mascara to make his eyes pop, Aaron squinted at the reflection in the mirror. This was the best he could do—it would have to be enough.
Jay was already at the club when Aaron walked in. Leaning on the counter by the bar, he looked deep in conversation with an attractive blond, who had his hand on Jay’s forearm and a sly smile on his face. Black straps crossed his body from shoulders to thighs, leaving a smooth chest and toned legs on full display.
He fit right in.
And Jay looked interested.
Aaron hesitated, unsure whether he should approach or let them keep talking. He tore his gaze away, searching for a distraction. All around him, beautiful, seductive people glided through the space, their laughter and bright smiles filling the air. Aaron tugged at the hem of his shirt, fingering the smooth fabric that looked dull and out of place.
He’d always been confident in his worth, which made it all the more ironic that it was the one place he’d spent his life yearning for that now made him feel like an outsider.
And he was an outsider. That much was clear. No amount of research or observation would make up for whatever was missing inside him.
He turned around and shot out the door, past the lobby, and back onto the dark sidewalk, gasping for breath. His phone was at the coat check. He had to go back inside and retrieve it, but all he wanted to do was go home. His insecurities layered over one another, crushing his chest, making him feel like a teenager again.
The door opened behind him, and someone approached.
“Aaron?” Jay’s voice, followed by his hand settling on Aaron’s shoulder, its warmth penetrating through the fabric. Lost in a haze of self-doubt, Aaron turned slowly. Jay’s face came into view—his expression soft and blurry around the edges.
A sudden sting in his eyes pulled Aaron back to reality.
“Shit.” He stepped back, shrugging Jay’s hand off his shoulder. On top of all the reasons why he was an inferior choice, now he was on the verge of crying for absolutely no reason. “I’m sorry. You should go back inside.”
Jay frowned and erased the distance between them. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” Aaron snapped. “I’m just having a moment. Please, go back inside.”
“Hey.” Jay cupped Aaron’s face, his dark, piercing gaze locking with Aaron’s and threatening to consume him. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”
The concern on Jay’s face was unbearable. And completely unwarranted.
