Summary:
A Disillusioned Dom
A Devastated Sub
When Craig walks into the first kink club he’s been in for months, the last thing he expects to see is his former Dom, Tim, wearing a collar. If learning his ex is a switch isn’t shocking enough, Craig quickly finds himself on the wrong side of his ex's Dom. When the reunion turns ugly, another Dom swoops in and saves the day, and Craig is too shaken to argue when the sweet Dom steps in and takes care of him.
Alan noticed the boy the minute he walked into his club. It was hard not to. He was beautiful, sad, and fully clothed. Once the boy is in Alan’s arms he knows he doesn’t want to let him go, maybe ever. He worries that even though his hardcore Dom days are behind him, his experience will scare Craig and he’ll lose the chance to have something real with him.
Their relationship quickly heats up, but Craig can’t stop wondering if an inexperienced sub will be enough for a seasoned Dom in the long run.
Matt Simpson is notorious for his bad decisions. From his rocky teenage years to his tumultuous early twenties, he's made a lot of mistakes. His latest, greatest, and perhaps stupidest of them all was his recent pursuit of his boss, the unattainable Steve Paulson. Desperate to make the man notice him, and knowing Steve would never get involved with an employee, Matt quits his job.
Unfortunately, Steve still won’t touch him. To make matters worse, his new job falls through and his older brother won’t hire him. Matt can’t bear to ask Steve for help, and soon he finds himself out of money and out of options. When Steve finds him living in his car and demands that he go home with him, Matt obeys, but living with the man he's wanted for two years proves to be frustrating as well as explosively hot. As Matt begins to explore his submissive side under Steve's firm guidance, his insecurities haunt him. What does a homeless, jobless kid with a string of failures behind him have to offer, even if Steve did want him for more than a brief fling?
What He Needs #1
1
Craig
He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d done it before. He’d walked into clubs before and never felt the sickening swirl of his stomach as its contents prepared for launch. Craig swallowed, then popped another antacid into his mouth and chewed it up.
He could do this. He needed to do this. He normally hated the club atmosphere, but it had pleased Tim to take him places and show him off, and if he hoped to move on, he needed this. He had needed to get over Tim. He needed someone who would give him the things Tim gave him and there was only one kind of place where you were guaranteed to meet the kind of person Craig needed to meet. Tails had a reputation as a popular kink club. Tim had never taken him to this club, and Craig hoped that he’d be able to go in there. He’d tried to visit a different club a few weeks ago but couldn’t make it past the bouncer.
It was a place he’d frequented with Tim and the bouncer recognized him on sight. He looked at him with those big, sympathetic brown eyes and Craig’s insides liquefied. He quickly lost his nerve and hurried back the way he came. Everyone understood what happened to him, well, everyone in that circle knew. It was why he hadn’t talked to any of his former kink friends since Tim left him. Maybe if he did, he could at least figure out what he did to drive Tim away. Perhaps he could find out why he came home from work one day to find all of Tim’s stuff gone.
Craig cursed himself and wiped away an errant tear. He needed someone to get him out of his head before he lost his mind completely. Tim had been perfect for him. Roommates at first, then friends, then lovers. One fateful night they stumbled into something more; something that took everything they had together and made it all that much better and more powerful and meaningful. Or so Craig thought.
They spent a year together exploring the lifestyle. Both newbies, they muddled through a little on their own before Tim insisted they join a club and do it right. Everything seemed perfect. Tim was a good Dom. Sure, he made a few newbie mistakes, but Craig made some mistakes as a first-time sub. Despite the times they stumbled, discovering his need for submission had to be the best thing that ever happened to Craig. Even when Tim wanted things that Craig didn’t feel comfortable with, he still relished belonging to him. Craig figured that even though they were out of sync to begin with that over time they’d get better at the whole Dom/sub dynamic of their relationship.
Then Tim left.
Now, eighteen months later, Craig’s life was a wasteland, and he had tired of it. Tired of being tired. Tired of being angry and miserable and feeling like a total failure. He needed to get out of his head. He needed to break the sick cycle of thinking that had him awake most nights.
Craig stepped out of the cab a few blocks from the club and walked the rest of the way. He kept his head down and stuffed his hands in his pockets and returned to the club he’d visited a few days ago to set up a membership.
Most places used the same basic set up, go in one door, sign in while they reminded you of the basic rules, gave you a color-coded club standard BDSM wrist band indicating Dom or a sub, available or unavailable. Then you got to enter the world of kink unfettered.
Craig hated places like these, but they were better than meeting someone on a random app. He didn’t like the idea of meeting a complete stranger who liked to tie people up. At least the club provided a controlled environment with people employed to keep their patrons safe.
It was little comfort.
Craig ordered a juice from the bar and looked around. He’d already been here once, for a few minutes, but during the day when the place was empty. Now it crawled with leather covered studs of all varieties. Craig raked his eyes over the crowd and took a deep breath. In a minute he’d get up the courage to throw himself into the fray. He drank his juice first, sipped it slowly until he emptied the glass. When he’d returned the glass, he took a deep breath. In another minute he’d slip into his sub mindset and maybe then a hot Dom would approach him and make him soar and forget about Tim.
Tim, whose eyes met his.
Tim, who he hadn’t seen in eighteen months stood ten feet from him. He looked at Craig with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Someone next to Tim put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in. That’s when Craig noticed the thick, black collar around Tim’s neck.
Tim had a Dom.
Tim was a sub.
Before Craig could wrap his mind around Tim being a sub, or a switch, or there, ten feet from him, Tim moved closer. Craig stood stock still like a cornered rabbit, too afraid to move.
The juice in Craig’s stomach churned. He didn’t understand anything anymore. He’d avoided all the clubs Tim used to drag him to for this exact reason. It wasn’t fair. Tim left him and now, the one time he’d gathered the courage to enter a club, Tim not only turned up, but as a fucking sub. A collared sub with a mammoth-sized Dom.
Only a few feet from him, Tim stopped. His master’s hand lay on his shoulder and Craig’s fist tightened. The fact that Tim had a master enraged him as much as it confused him.
“Craig. It’s good to see you. How are you?” Tim smiled, but Craig knew him well enough to know that it was fake, as fake as the rest of him. Betrayal fuelled Craig’s anger. He wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Go fuck yourself.” Craig turned to leave, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“You’re a nasty little sub, aren’t you? That’s my boy you swore at and I expect you to apologize.”
Craig spun around and knocked the Dom’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t touch me. I’ll talk to him however I want. I may be a sub, but I’m not your sub.”
Tim didn’t say anything. He stood there and let his master grab at Craig and bark at him to apologize and he stood there and watched with complete disinterest. As if Craig never mattered to him at all.
Craig glared at Tim as angry tears sprang to his eyes. He didn’t care if Tim saw him cry, it wouldn’t be the first time. “You’re a piece of cowardly shit.”
“I told you not to talk to my boy like that.”
Craig flinched at the Dom’s voice. Powerful and commanding, the tone was also edged with a bit of anger. Craig took a step back. “Screw you.” He knew he shouldn’t get so mouthy with a Dom, but his heart hammered as his vision blurred. At the same time, he couldn't catch his breath. Worse, his brain didn’t appear to be in control of his mouth anymore and he heard himself yell. “Screw you and screw him too.” Craig turned to leave, but the Dom caught his arm.
Before he could wonder what would happen next, another man came over and pulled the Dom’s hand off Craig’s arm.
“What’s the trouble over here?” He had to be a Dom. Not as tall or as wide as Tim’s giant of a man, he oozed a certain presence and had to be important because the angry Dom suddenly curbed his attitude.
“This little sub here seems to have a problem with my boy. They exchanged words and I want him to apologize.”
“Fuck you, you shit.” Craig’s voice cracked. “And fuck him too.” Craig panted, and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. The other Dom appeared to be trying to spin it to make him look like the bad guy, and he might be, but all he wanted to do was leave. The guy should’ve let him go.
A hand touched his shoulder. “Kneel down, boy.”
Craig dropped to his knees without giving it a thought. He didn’t dare disobey that voice. That deep, smooth baritone that didn’t bark at him to obey as the first Dom had done, but commanded obedience, nonetheless.
The Dom put a hand on Craig’s head and smoothed his fingers through his short brown hair. “Breathe, boy. Just breathe.”
Craig no longer obeyed on instinct alone. He found himself wanting to please the man who came to his rescue.
“What’s going on here?”
Craig heard the Dom start to answer, but he got cut off by the second Dom. “I want to hear it from your boy. What did you say to him to upset him?”
“Nothing, Sir.” Tim almost stammered.
“Nothing?” Craig heard the total disbelief in the Dom’s voice. “Didn’t look like nothing.” The Dom stroked his fingers through Craig’s hair and Craig took another deep breath, one that somehow helped release the pressure on his lungs. “One minute the boy is at the bar, then you come sauntering over and he goes ten shades whiter and I want to know why.”
“I was only saying hello.” Tim mumbled, and Craig stiffened. He wanted to get to his feet and punch him in the face. Or grab him and demand answers. Or run away. Then the gentle fingers continued stroking his scalp; he understood the silent command and forced himself to relax.
“I think it was more than that.” A tense silence followed, and part of Craig wanted to lift his head so he could see what was going on, but he kept his head bowed and his eyes lowered. He knew that if he looked at Tim, he’d lose it all over again. “I’m going to insist that you leave this sub alone from now on.”
“But…”
“Do not argue with me, boy.” When the second Dom spoke to Tim in that tone, Craig’s blood heated with arousal. “The boy is obviously distressed and whatever the reason, you’re the cause. Do not approach him again. Get your boy out of here, Paul, he’s pissing me off and so are you. I better not hear so much as a whisper that you’ve talked to, looked at or approached this boy in any manner. Do you get me?”
Silence.
“Come on, boy. Time to play.”
Craig lifted his gaze enough to watch two sets of feet turn and leave. Then he buried his face in his hands.
The hand that had been playing with his hair smoothed down his back. “You okay, boy?”
Craig couldn’t respond. His throat squeezed shut with despair. He shook his head instead.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” Craig didn’t protest as the Dom pulled Craig to his feet. Shame burned through him and he bowed his head to hide his tear stained face. He couldn’t believe that he lost it in front of everyone. Craig melted into the warmth offered by the Dom’s arm when it slid around his waist. He found himself being led into the back through an area that was marked employees only. The noise in the club faded a bit, then all but disappeared when the Dom kicked a door shut behind them.
The Dom took a seat on an oversized sofa and pulled Craig down next to him. He slipped his fingers through Craig’s hair and cradled him against his chest. Despite his efforts to compose himself, Craig broke down. He clutched the Dom and let the tears come. He whispered soothing words to Craig and when his sobs softened, and his breathing evened out, he didn’t disobey the sweet Dom when he gave him one more command.
“Sleep, boy. I’ve got you.”
What He Craves #2
1
Matt
Okay. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t totally fucked. Cam had to hire him back. Sure, he absolutely loathed working for his brother, but Cam would have to give him a job. He couldn’t tell Cam that he’d quit his job at the restaurant in a fit of jealous rage because people flirted with Steve and he flirted back, and Matt had tried for two years to make Steve notice him, but he wouldn’t of course, because Steve, the honorable shit, didn’t fuck his employees. Matt forced himself to take a deep breath. Breathe. He had to remember to breathe. He had to be cool.
He’d had another job lined up, he thought. He showed up a few days ago, ready to work. They’d told him he could start that day, but a manager came out and informed him that he’d given someone else the position before Matt got hired. His assistant manager somehow screwed up. Matt didn’t have a job after all.
That only left Cam.
Matt wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans and sauntered up to the shop. Cam inherited the garage from their dad when he died, and he’d done a great job turning it around. He’d totally revamped the poor reputation their dad had left behind, and business had been steady for a while now. Cam would have no problem hiring him back. Cam had to hire him back. By rights, the shop should have been half Matt’s, but their homophobic asshole father had written Matt out of the will. Cam got everything and most times it didn’t bother him because Cam always did his best to look out for Matt.
The bells above the door jingled when Matt pulled the door open. Suzie looked up from her spot at the front desk. He remembered the first time they’d met, and she asked him on a date. Turning down a sweet girl like her had been hell, but, well, wrong equipment. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d since turned her affections toward Cam, who probably had the same shit rule Steve did about not getting involved with employees. Some guys are no fun at all.
“Hey, Suzie. Cam in the office?”
She nodded. “He’s in a bit of a shit mood today, so be careful.”
“What’s going on?” Cam had always been easy going and laid back. But everything he did had been organized and calculated and well planned. Basically, he was the opposite of Matt.
“Something about a supplier overcharging for stuff. Shipping delays on top of that which makes him have to readjust when people get their cars back.” Suzie shrugged. “It’s been a rough week.”
Well shit. This wasn’t good. Matt took a deep breath and tried not to climb the walls. “Thanks for the heads up.” The walk down the short hallway to Cam’s office felt like the march of death. Matt wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, again, and wondered if his life would flash before his eyes. Death might be welcome at this point, Matt thought as the knot of anxiety in his stomach turned into a boulder.
He knocked lightly then entered the office. Cam had the phone pressed to his ear, as luck would have it, he seemed to be talking with the parts supplier to find out what the hold up was. Matt sat in one of the two chairs across from Cam’s desk and folded his hands in his lap. He hated coming to Cam begging for a job like a stupid kid, but maybe he was. He’d quit his job so he could have a chance at boning Steve. That wasn’t something a normal twenty-five-year-old did, was it? But Matt had never been normal. He’d always did stupid shit before he thought it through. It’s how he’d always been. Sometimes it worked out, and other times he ended up here, in Cam’s office.
Cam had ended the call without Matt noticing because he’d been silently freaking out.
“Matt.” Cam spoke, and Matt snapped out of his doom spiral, sort of. At least enough to pay attention to what Cam was saying. “What brings you by?” Cam’s tight voice had and edge to it that indicated Cam knew what was coming.
“I got laid off. I need a job, Cam.” Totally not the truth, but Matt couldn’t tell Cam the truth.
Cam shook his head and raked a hand through his thick blonde hair. “Matt. Come on, man. I thought we went over this.”
Matt’s already rampant heart kicked it up a notch and the boulder of anxiety in his stomach spread out to each limb. “Cam, please. I got laid off. It’s not my fault. Just for a few months. I’ll find a new job. Please.”
Cam shook his head.
Shit.
Fuck.
Shitcrapmotherfuckingfucknononononono.
“Matt. No. I’m sorry. There’s unemployment. You have enough hours banked to qualify, and you were laid off. You’ll have no problem getting it. I’m sorry. I love the shit out of you, but you know you can’t work here. You need to stand on your own two feet.”
Matt nodded and tried to swallow past the giant lump in his throat. “Yeah. Fine. Okay. Uh…I should go do that then.” Matt got up and left before Cam could say anything else. Unemployment. Yeah. Okay. Easy, right? Except the record of employment in his pocket that he’d grabbed with his last check clearly stated that Matt hadn’t been laid off. Still, there might be a chance.
As Matt pulled out of the parking lot, he looked back and saw Cam in the doorway of the shop, watching him go. Fucking Cam. He got it. Matt understood that Cam had bailed him out of every scrape, jam, and fucked up situation he’d dug himself into since kindergarten. His argument that Matt needed to live an adult life and fix his own mistakes had been a compelling one. That didn’t make him hate Cam any less for sticking with it this time.
Matt let out a shaky breath and drove to the unemployment office. Maybe Cam had been right. At some point, Matt had to start cleaning up his own messes and fixing his own mistakes. At twenty-five years old, Matt had to stop being a fuck-up.
With his unemployment application sent off Matt could concentrate getting ready for the grand opening of Steve’s new club. A club he should’ve been working at. Matt shoved those thoughts aside and got ready.
He pulled on a pair of shorts that probably didn’t quite fit, and that’s what made them his absolute favorite. The shiny red shorts hugged his ass and showed off his entire package. It would be impossible for Steve to ignore him. In the mood for a bit of fun, Matt impulsively slathered himself with some glittery body lotion. He twisted and turned in the full-length mirror. He gave his ass a playful swat. Perfection.
Dinner time had come and gone, and Matt hadn’t eaten. He should’ve taken the time to whip something up in his little kitchen (aka his hot plate and toaster oven) before he went to the club, but he wasn’t hungry. His nervous stomach knotted. It filled with butterflies and what-ifs. When it was finally time to leave he didn’t want to trudge down the street in nothing but his tiny shorts. He slid into a pair of track pants and pulled a T-shirt on over top. On his way out the door he grabbed a jacket.
The club was in full swing when Matt arrived. A jolt of nerves had him considering slipping in the back through the employees' entrance, but he didn’t want Steve to see him go in that way. He wanted Steve to see him walk in the front doors like any other patron. Cam might not have hired him, and it may not have gone entirely well with the unemployment office, but this was his big moment. Everything would be worth it soon.
Stripped down to only his bright red shorts, Matt took a deep breath. He stepped into the club with his head held high and a smile far brighter and more confident than he felt. Like the magnet that he was, Matt’s gaze found Steve in the room almost immediately. He was tall and broad and commanding. Matt took a breath, adjusted his package, not caring who saw him, because, hello, kink club.
Even from across the room Matt saw something flare in Steve’s gaze. Lust? Want? Need? Did Steve crave him the way he craved Steve? Matt drifted toward him, weaving through the crowd. Each step brought him closer to Steve, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Matt. His dick twitched—that had to be a good sign, right? For the first time since Matt quit he felt as if he’d made the right decision.
“Steve.” Matt tried to sound more casual than he felt as he stood both too close and not close enough. “The place looks great.”
Hope flared in Matt as Steve’s gaze raked over his scantily clad body.
“Are you covered in glitter?” Steve raised an eyebrow.
Matt smirked. It was cocky and in that moment, so was he. He reached for Steve, slid a finger down the center of his shirt. “Play your cards right and you could be covered in glitter, too.”
Heat and lust flashed in Steve’s eyes and for a fraction of a second, he looked at Matt, truly looked at him and saw him. Then the mask fell back into place and Matt’s heart shuddered to a stop.
No.
Steve took a step back. “Make sure you grab some food before you go. It’s on the house tonight, Matt.” Then he took a step back, but the sudden distance felt like miles, oceans, light-years. Whatever the unit of measure, Matt felt as if his chest would cave in under the weight of disappointment.
“Steve, I…”
“Have a good night, Matt.”
Steve spun on his heel and walked away. Dismissed, Matt stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. How had everything gone so wrong so fast? He’d come on a little strong. Maybe that had been where he went wrong. Maybe the short-shorts and the body glitter and the blatant flirting were too much. Steve owned a kink club. It was Matt’s wet-dream come true, but maybe he’d fucked this all up. He should’ve stayed working for Steve. He could’ve come here and seen what Steve liked and he could’ve been that.
Ice swept over Matt and before he knew exactly how he got there, he stood on the street in his T-shirt and track pants. He walked home with his arms wrapped around himself. Every so often he paused to rub his chest as if he could ease the ache somehow. He’d been rejected before, but this hurt. He’d lusted after and been in love with Steve for as long as he’d known the man. Okay, so it started out as lust, and he didn’t know Steve that well, but yeah, he loved him. He loved the way he commanded a room. He loved the way all his staff loved him and respected him.
Matt entered his apartment. It wasn’t much. A dingy room in an old hotel. A tiny kitchenette sat next to an equally tiny bathroom. The rest of the space stood open. His bed also served as his couch. His dresser doubled as his TV stand. The small, dim space could use a paint job, but the rent was affordable, and it was his. It was the first place he ever had all on his own. If he didn’t have a massive pile of credit card debt, he’d be able to afford something way nicer. Matt curled up in his bed and didn’t move for three days.
Three weeks later after the most depressing search for employment he’d ever been on, he came home to a letter from the unemployment office. Declined. He’d quit his job and therefore they decided he didn’t qualify.
The paper trembled in Matt’s hands and he sunk down into his bed. He scrubbed at his face with his hands. Matt’s impulsive decisions had landed him in yet another impossible situation. Cam refused to hire him. He absolutely couldn’t go back and beg Steve for a job. He’d quit with hardly any notice. He’d told Steve he found a better job and wanted to move on. Steve would’ve filled the position by now and Matt didn’t want to risk Steve having to make a choice between him and a new hire. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, Matt didn’t think he could face Steve ever again.
Already strapped for cash after making the minimum payments on his credit cards, Matt packed what he could into his car. Doom swirled in Matt’s stomach as he dropped his keys in the landlord's mailbox. The key hit the bottom of the mailbox with a hollow ping that ricocheted through Matt. He’d hoped to escape eviction by lucking out and getting unemployment.
One month after quitting his job, Matt parked at the far end of a grocery store parking lot. He wrapped himself in a blanket and tried to reconcile himself to the fact that he officially lived in his car. He spent his first night homeless not sleeping. Cam’s words from the last time kept circling around and around in his head. You fucked up again, Matty. I can’t believe this. You never think do you? Ever. Shit. Dammit. Fine, you can work here, but this is the last time I bail you out, do you understand? You’re twenty-two, Matty. You’re an adult. Start acting like one.
The next morning Matt parked his car in a different spot and spent the day looking for work. The day ended up being the same as every other day he looked for work in the past month. Not hiring. Not hiring. Not hiring. We’ll keep your application on file. Thanks for stopping by. Not hiring. Not hiring. Not hiring.
His second night on the streets, Matt cried himself to sleep.
E. M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and animals, and anything cute and fuzzy. She writes romance for the 18+ plus crowd because she's both a hopeless romantic and a dirty old woman.
You can find her on her website, Facebook or on her blog.
EMAIL: emdenningauthor@gmail.com
What He Needs #1
What He Craves #2
Series
Desires: New Beginnings Series
What He Learns #1
What He Finds #2
