“Not interested in an ‘I don’t think,’” Vincent replied dryly. “Stop acting like I’ll abandon you out of boredom if you don’t try new things.”
Jasper flinched. Matt’s words had been haunting him since his first weekend with Vincent. He didn’t think Matt was lying, but it was obvious something had happened between Matt and Vincent.
He took a breath to get his throat working again, dropping his sandwich to his plate when he nearly squeezed it into pieces. “Matt warned me you would,” he said, surprised by how steady his voice came out.
Vincent paused with his drink a few inches off the table, then set it back down. “You know Matt,” he said, though he didn’t quite sound surprised.
Jasper shrugged. “He lives with Amber.”
“Ah.” Vincent sat back in his seat with a sigh. “Can’t say I blame him for hating me.”
He waited for some additional information, and dug his fingers into his jeans when Vincent fell silent. “Is what he said true, then?”
“That depends on what he said, exactly.”
“That you’re a dick,” Jasper said, unable to help himself. That part at least he could believe to some extent, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad sign when Vincent didn’t even try to defend himself. “And that you go through a lot of subs and don’t have relationships.”
Vincent hesitated but nodded. “I don’t usually form romantic relationships with play partners. I fill in as a temporary Dom at the club when needed. Do you know what that is?”
“You hit people who ask you to?”
“To put it simply.” Vincent gave him a bemused look, drumming his fingers against the table. “Someone wants to be spanked but doesn’t have someone who can give them that, they can ask me. There’s no relationship expected beyond that.”
Jasper studied Vincent for a long moment. Matt had made it sound like Vincent left a string of pissed-off lovers wherever he went, but Jasper had basically used Vincent in that exact way. Before he’d signed a contract. “So,” he started, his fingers aching where he clutched his knees to keep from fidgeting. “You don’t offer contracts often?”
Vincent smiled, if only briefly. “Not often. If it makes you feel any better, it’s been about a year since my last one.”
He wasn’t sure he should admit to feeling better about that, so he reached for a fry and shoved it in his mouth. “Can I ask why he hates you?”
Vincent crossed his arms in front of his plate. “I hurt him. Deliberately.”
“Why?” He raised an eyebrow when Vincent eyed him with exasperation, waiting to see if he’d answer or tell him to fuck off.
After a long moment of silence, Vincent let out a slow breath. “I was in a bad place,” he said quietly, picking up a chip, breaking a piece off, and dropping it. “It was the same day I’d gotten word my mother died. I was grieving, had a point-one-nine blood alcohol level, and he was conveniently available.”
Jasper refrained from asking for more details, surprised he’d even gotten that much. He ate another fry as he mulled that over, wondering if Matt was a jilted lover. That would explain why Matt hated Vincent so much. Maybe he shouldn’t give Vincent the benefit of the doubt when they barely knew each other, but surely Amber or Keith would have warned him off if Vincent was dangerous.
Vincent hadn’t hurt him, which was all that really mattered at the moment. “For the record, I like trying new things,” he finally offered. “Even if it’s public sex,” he added, snickering when Vincent nearly choked on his tea.
By the time they finished eating, things felt back to normal. Like the past twenty hours never happened. Especially when Vincent caught him on the way back to the car, backed him into the passenger door, and kissed him.
His lips were tingling as he climbed in and buckled his seat belt. “So does this mean you’ll tie me up when we get back?” he asked, not even bothering to try and sound nonchalant.
Vincent glanced at him with a chuckle and a “We’ll see.”
LATER THATevening, Jasper was naked and sitting on the coffee table, watching as Vincent wove rope around his right arm. His left arm was already done, a pattern of messy red loops chained together from his wrist to elbow. Maybe the messy part should have worried him, but he was almost giddy, seeing that Vincent wasn’t perfect at everything.
The black loops forming on his right were neater and tighter, and he found himself mesmerized by the way Vincent’s fingers moved. Quickand deft but unhurried. They seemed to brush against every inch of skin as they trailed down his arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“So,” he said, glancing at the cushion beside Vincent, where more rope, lube, nipple clamps, and a crop were laid out. “You’re going to use all of that on me?”
Vincent’s lips twitched, but he didn’t slow in his task. “Objections?”
Jasper hummed softly, at least pretending to think about it. “Nope.”
Vincent finished with Jasper’s arm and picked up another bundle of rope, this one purple. He eyed Jasper as he unwound it. “I’m more interested in tormenting you tonight than getting off.”
“Does that mean I’m not getting off either?”
