Page 168 of Naughty November

I shook my head. “No, I’m still curating Monday through Friday at the museum.”

Gene smiled. “Great. I’ve invested carefully, so I’ve stepped back from a lot of my duties at the agency. Now I have more time to spend with a needy boy in the dungeon.” He winked. “Advertising isn’t anywhere near as interesting an activity as that.”

I chuckled. “I should hope not.”

Gene entwined our fingers and began to lead us out of the hotel. “I also need to prepare my dungeon at home. This isn’t something I wish to do with you at the club.”

My breathing hitched. I tempered my compulsion to beg him to take me home right now. I wanted to sleep in his arms the way I had the night he offered me the contract. We’d slept in our clothes, but I’d never felt closer to anyone. That was also the only time we’d played at his home. The next day at the club was when I’d destroyed everything we’d been building toward.

But now it was time for me to be a good boy.

THREE

ALEC

As I pulled up to Gene’s house, a moment of panic struck me. Not enough to make me turn around and abandon the whole idea of giving myself to him, but enough for me to take notice. I’d been living with regret long enough. I wasn’t about to squander my chance of being with the man I thought I’d lost forever.

I turned into the driveway of his mid-century ranch house in the quiet Lexington neighborhood. His career had afforded him the ability to live in the Manor section of town, and I’d been impressed the first time I went to his meticulously kept home. Something about how careful he was with his living space gave me a sense of security. I realized I could’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable with Gene all along.

He’d made it clear I was to park on the property, not the street. The thrill of that small act of protectiveness was as strong as it had been the first time he’d issued the command. I’d inherently known he would take care of me, that his identification as a Dom wasn’t only a title. He meant it in the best sense of the word.

Gene wouldn’t merely tell me I had his full attention and was concerned for my safety, my happiness, my wellbeing. He wouldfollow through. What he said to me the night before gave voice to what I’d always known—even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself until now.

I was Gene’s. I belonged to him, and he took care of what was his.

After parking and doing a quick assessment of my hair in the rearview mirror, I stepped from my sedan. Right as I was about to close the door, I eyed my overnight bag. Gene hadn’t invited me to stay the night. Not yet. I’d spent the night in his arms once, which precipitated my abandoning him. He knew it, and I knew it. I suspected he wasn’t interested in a repeat performance.

He was probably trying to move extra slowly, which pained me. I was ready to take off at high speed now that I’d been wallowing in my own self-pity and regret for so long, but he was the Master. If nothing else, I deserved the punishment of having to wait.

With a sigh, I shut the car door then made my way up the flagstone walkway to the house. I raised my hand to knock, but before I could, Gene opened the door. My jaw went slack at the sight of him. It was one thing to see him wearing a designer suit, elegant and sophisticated, the ultimate in refined elegance. And when he rocked the full leather gear at the club, he was magnificent. But this look was my new favorite.

Gene stood before me in a shiny, skin-tight spandex silver tank top tucked into a pair of slim, black jeans with the touch of a shimmer. Not that I wasn’t aware of how nicely built he was already. I’d lain in his arms, been held by him. But seeing him on display like this with nothing left to the imagination made my knees wobble a bit.

Gene smiled, opening the door wider before stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter. Awkwardness swept over me, making me hesitate. Was it too soon for a kiss? It must be. Why else was he waving me inside instead of gathering me in his arms?

I turned as Gene shut the door behind me, and our eyes met. Neither of us spoke, and my discomfort grew. We’d left things on a casual note after agreeing to meet, but Gene’s insistence that I go home to get some rest had brought a swift conclusion to our reunion.

Gene took a small step toward me, and before I had the chance to think it through, I reached for him, no longer afraid. His touch that I’dbeen aching for had to be fulfilled, the need more overpowering than my hesitation. Gene held me in silence as he rested his head on mine, and I pressed my face to his solid chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as if he might float away.

“I’ve missed you,” I said, my voice muffled. “I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid.”

Gene squeezed me, then let go, but gathered my hands in his. “I think we need to take a moment and go through protocol and safewords again. Now that I know you haven’t been at the club since our last time together, I almost feel as if you’re starting over. Which means I won’t ding you for talking badly about yourself.” He winked. “I’m guessing you forgot that rule.”

A lump formed in my throat as the memory of our previous dynamic came rushing back. Ihadforgotten. I’d been so caught up in the misery of missing him I’d neglected to consider how much of a comfort the rules were and that I missed them, too.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak in case my voice cracked, or even worse, I said something ridiculous.

Gene wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Everything is fine. In case you forgot this as well, your safeword is always valid no matter when you use it.”

I nodded again, but some of the other rules jumped into my head, mainly the one about using my words.

“Thank you,” I managed to squeeze out. “You’re right. I think I need a minute to get grounded.”

He brushed his lips over my temple, the moment so brief it was over before I could lean into the connection. Gene directed me to the cushy suede sofa in the spacious living area. The picture window at the far end offered a view overlooking an expansive lawn and manicured garden along the back fence. I idly wondered what it might be like to relax with him outside in the summer, lounging in the outdoor chairs, cold drinks in our hands as we discussed how our day went.

I pressed my lips together, mentally chastising myself at the errant thought. No promises had been made, and neither of us had expectations. But dammit, I was ready for them.

The plush fabric of the couch enveloped me as I sank into it. To mysurprise, Gene didn’t join me. As he pulled his hand away, I grasped it tighter.