Zach regarded his walled-off guy, one hundred percent certain that Jason was going to get up and leave any second unless he could convince him otherwise. He could imagine how nervous Jason was, because he was nervous himself; he could practically feel Jason buzzing next to him. The reason they were at this type of club was without a doubt adding to Jason’s distress.
Zach peered around him and tried hard not to stare while he held Jason’s hand tightly. These people were actually dressed like the pictures he’d seen on the Internet. The last time he’d seen this much leather and chain was at a biker bar he and Jason had gone to for drinks and music.
The social room of this “discreet gentlemen’s club for those seeking the same gender” could have been anyone’s living room. What made it totally surreal was this club was in the warehouse district of the city. He wondered if the companies around them knew this place existed.
They were sitting on a plush loveseat that angled away from the fireplace. A long, comfy-looking couch on the other side of them made a triangle, forming an intimate conversational area. Two couples, fully clothed, were sitting on the couch, and several groups of men in various dress and undress stood around the rest of the room. A few of the pictures on the wall were appealing to him, and, if he thought he could get away with it, he’d have hung them in their own home. But since they did entertain fairly often, Jason would have been mortified to have their friends see such things.
Zach looked over to the couch where one of the couples was talking quietly, while the other couple was cuddling and kissing, their hands quite obvious about what they were doing down below. He wondered what they were there for: to role play? To be out in public having sex? To practice the Dom/sub dynamic? He was so new to all this and just had a hint of what it was all about. Zach wanted to watch the men some more, see what they were getting up to, but didn’t want to be rude staring. He glanced to the curtain behind them and wondered what lay beyond. What did it look like back there? Were there chains hanging from the ceiling? Cages? Was it dark? Was it cold and damp?
Damn. He readjusted himself on the couch to get more comfortable when one of the men groaned deeply and then stilled his partner’s hand from working him. Zach tried not to be obvious as he observed them from the corner of his eye. He hoped Jason was watching them and taking note of how aroused those two were. That might get him interested, and after all, that was the whole reason they were there. The people in the larger group behind them were talking with one another, laughing now and then.
Glancing again to the pictures, he wondered which of these men would be doing those things. Some of the positions looked extremely uncomfortable but at the same time totally arousing.
Zach had spent hours convincing Jason they needed to do something to get their sex life back on track. Ever since the car accident over ten months ago, sex—or the lack of satisfying sex—had wedged itself between them. Zach had tried everything he could think of to keep Jason hard, but every time it got to those final moments, Jason would lose his drive, get frustrated, roll over, and fall asleep—or pretend to fall asleep—leaving him staring at the ceiling, cursing silently. And more often than not, Zach ended up in the bathroom bringing himself to an unsatisfactory orgasm.
It had become a vicious cycle. The more often Jason couldn’t reach orgasm, the more frustrated he became, until it got to the point where he stopped initiating sex altogether. When Zach had tried, he felt like he was making love to a cardboard box, and that left him feeling hollow and angry. He craved Jason’s touch, but what he missed most of all was the emotional connection they’d shared all the years they’d been together.
Jason felt responsible for the accident. Time and again he’d told Zach that if he hadn’t been so hell-bent on taking the trip that Zach had said they should wait on, they wouldn’t be in this abyss of pain and uncertainty. And Jason carried the guilt around with him every single day.
No matter how hard Zach had tried to convince him that what had happened had been totally out of his hands, Jason wouldn’t be swayed to think otherwise.
During the recovery, Jason had also become body-conscious. He’d taken to dressing and undressing where Zach couldn’t see him. The scars that traced his body were a physical reminder of his willfulness and his need to have his way. There was no hiding them unless he kept his clothes on and the lights off. He couldn’t see, or maybe didn’t want to see, that he was still very desirable to Zach. Jason was convinced he never would be again.
After months of convalescing, Jason was in better physical shape than he’d been before the accident. The only lingering effects from his ordeal were his fear of having sex and letting Zach down and his refusal to show his naked body.
Zach had taken what he could for as long as he could, but he’d had enough. He wanted his heart-and-soul guy back, in and out of the bedroom. He’d racked his brain trying to think of what could be done. And he’d remembered something.
In Zach’s quest to bring them together again, he’d tossed around ideas with some of their closest friends about what he could do to get his partner out from behind his protective prison. In the past, he and Jason had indulged in some quiet, playful experimentation in bed. Jason had given up his will and choices to Zach and had let Zach play with his body in any way he liked. Zach had loved the feeling of being king of the hill, but there’d been more than that going on. Not from words but from the look in Jason’s eyes and the obvious, utter contentment of his body afterward, Zach could tell that Jason had found fulfillment in his submission.
When Zach had hesitantly brought up the subject of going to a place where people were allowed to practice BDSM publicly, he’d expected Jason’s strong reaction against the idea. It was “Nope” at first. Then it was, “Hell, no. Are you fucking crazy? Not gonna talk about it. Not gonna happen. Not gonna do it. Period.”
Zach could have wept with frustration.
But Zach forced himself past disappointment and set out to persuade his stubborn partner that they needed this. They both did, because what they had was worth preserving. Didn’t Jason want things between them back the way they used to be? Over the next week, Jason hadn’t budged, and Zach’s hope began to fade. Finally, one night, in real desperation, he’d turned to Jason in bed and reached for him in their old way. With one hand on Jason’s shoulder and their faces just inches apart on their separate pillows, he’d looked into Jason’s eyes and whispered, “I love you. Please. Do it for me?”
Jason had stared at him, unblinking, for what felt like forever. His eyes closed, and he pressed a kiss on Zach’s wrist. “Let me think about it,” he’d said.
And the next morning, he’d said yes.
That morning had led to this night, where they were sitting side by side on a couch at The Sanctuary, waiting for what Zach hoped would bring them back together. He ached for his Jason, naked and needing, in his arms again.
