A Strong Hand (15 page)

"I don't know if I'm gay," Nick agreed, "but I do know that I really enjoy when you ... spank me and ... other stuff, sir. I don't want anyone but you to do that stuff to me."

"Then I will keep spanking you and showing you pleasure, pet, because that gives
me
pleasure," Damian said with satisfaction.

Damian picked up the red collar he'd taken off the boy the previous day. "I'm going to put this on you, but you haven't earned it yet. However, once I have placed any collar around your neck, I shall expect you to do exactly as I say. In effect, we are in a scene once this is on, although no one out there will be aware of it. Are you ready for that, pet?"

Nick's mind was spinning out of control. Did this mean that he would be required to kneel at Damian's command? Would Damian call him pet in front of the others? Despite his confusion, there was just something about the older man that compelled his compliance. He nodded slowly. "I'm ready, sir."

Damian's fingers were very gentle as he fastened the collar and smoothed it into place. Nick arched into the tender caress 138

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like a cat, rubbing his face unconsciously against Damian's wrist.

Damian suppressed a shiver; the boy was really getting to him. The wine red collar against the burnished golden skin made him aware that he wished that he really were collaring Nick. He controlled the urge to stake his claim and pushed it away. They were too different. Hell, they were ten years apart in age. Nick would get his jollies for a while and then he'd leave. Damian was not prepared to hand his heart to the boy so easily.

He pulled his hands away and crossed his arms in front of his body. "Go to Gabe. Have him use some of that shiny stuff on your body. I want your skin to glow in this shot."

"Yes, sir," Nick said softly and got to his feet. He opened the door and paused, looking back, touching the collar with one finger. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome."

Damian stared at the closed door and wondered what he was doing. Playing with fire, that's what, he decided.

* * * *

Ashley demanded.

Damian smirked at Ashley's outraged face. "You can't ask their sexual orientation before you hire them, Ash. You know that. And it's not a dirty word."

"I know, but I'd been having the most delicious fantasy about him," Ashley mourned. "Now it's all ruined."

"Which one?" Damian asked, curious despite himself.

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"Ruben, the black guy with the shaved head and the long—

"

"I know the one," Damian interrupted hastily, seeing the model in question emerge from the makeup room, escorting Mistress Bettie. They appeared to be having a good time with each other, laughing and even holding hands, which instantly aroused his suspicions. "Playing Cupid again?"

"I merely asked if anyone was straight," Ashley asked smugly. "He volunteered that he was so I put him on to keep Bettie entertained."

"Thanks, Ash, but I think we've got it worked out now,"

Damian said, touched by his friend's good intentions.

"I'm sure you do, but a little extra insurance policy never hurts."

"You look good in wings, Ashley."

"Wings!" Ashley cried out. "Brilliant! I must get that into development for next year!" He took out his BlackBerry and started punching buttons furiously.

* * * *

Nick looked at the floor, his lashes veiling his eyes, wondering exactly how this looked. He could sort of picture it, and he now knew enough to realize that his aching knees and 140

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the twinge in his hip didn't show up on film. Instead, quite surprising things, secret revealing things showed up, a testament to Damian's mastery of his medium and his models. Nick was incredibly relieved that the female models had been sent home, especially Bettie. He could only imagine her avid interest in this pose.

Markie shifted slightly in response to Damian's orders and Nick was relieved that the photographer spoke to each of them in exactly the same tone. Of course, he didn't realize that Damian automatically addressed Markie the same way, seeing as he was also submissive, but at least he didn't feel as if his secret had been revealed.

When he was satisfied with his shots, Damian released the two models. Markie dropped the leash and took Nick's arm, hauling him groaning to his feet. "People always think modeling is so glamorous," he commented wryly. "They should try holding a pose for a long stretch sometime."

Nick laughed, allowing Markie to hang onto his arm as he worked the kinks out of his knees, unaware of jealous eyes watching them. "Thanks," Nick said, before going to the monitor to see the shot.

Ashley was struck dumb. "That is fuckin' brilliant, Ian. That shot alone, shit,
this
has
got
to be the cover."

"I thought you liked that group shot," Damian teased.

"Back cover. This wins the front, hands down," Ashley said, in a voice that sounded as if he was falling in love. Or at least in the grips of a deep crush. It made Nick giggle.

Damian looked pleased with it himself, and Nick could see why as soon he glanced at the screen. His face was in 141

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shadow, except for a triangle of light that gleamed over his parted lips, widening to reveal the new collar on his throat.

His skin shimmered with the luminous oil that Gabe had smoothed onto him (taking entirely too much pleasure in it, to Nick's discomfort), highlighting the muscles in his shoulders, pectorals, and abdomen. Fuck, his nipples looked wet as if someone had just licked them.

The other model was barely visible, emerging from the shadows just enough to personify menace, towering over the slim boy, the leash wrapped around his black gloved hand, making Nick's submissive pose all the more palpable.

Therefore Nick was unprepared for the frown that Damian turned on him. The photographer unhooked the leash from his collar and tersely commanded, "Go get cleaned up."

The two models walked to the makeup room together, while Ashley, Derek, and Damian examined the shot.

"Damian, this is a masterpiece. I want to buy a print,"

Ashley said soberly.

"I'll think about it," Damian said in a surly voice.

Ashley studied his friend's troubled face. "Look, let's go out to dinner. Someplace nice, my treat. We've been pushing to get this finished, and you're tired. I want to show you how much I appreciate your artistry and care. We'll make it an early night, we'll take Sunday off, and you'll feel better by Monday."

Privately wondering if Sunday without Nick might not drive him crazy, Damian agreed with a strained smile. "Sorry, Ash.

I guess I am bushed. Dinner sounds good."

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"We'll have Nick and Markie along as well," Ashley said hospitably. When he followed them to the makeup room to extend the invitation, Damian noticed how Derek's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Ask him if you can come along. He'll invite you too. I'm sure he just wasn't thinking," Damian said.

"I couldn't," Derek said, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

Ashley emerged from the makeup room, saying "Nick said yes, if you're okay with it, Ian, and Markie can't come, so it'll be just us three."

"Four," Damian said. "I invited Derek."

"Oh. All right then," Ashley said nervously.

"Excuse me. I need to speak to Nick," Damian said, basely abandoning the other two to work things out for themselves.

Nick came out of the makeup room, considerably less shiny and buttoning up one of his atrocious shirts, still wearing the collar.

Damian grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the office, locking the door behind them. "You're still wearing it."

"I didn't think you'd like it if you put it on and I let Gabe take it off," Nick responded nervously.

"Good instincts, pet." Damian's fingers stroked over the leather. "I think we'll leave it on for a while."

"You mean, I'm to go to a restaurant wearing a collar?"

Nick's voice rose uncertainly.

"Yes, that's precisely what I mean. I will enjoy knowing that you're wearing it under your shirt, where no one else can 143

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see it. A sign of my ownership." Damian slowly buttoned the boy's shirt all the way to the top, patting his chest when he was finished. "Let's go."

Nick wanted to check to see if the collar was showing, but Damian didn't allow him any time for that. He simply unlocked the door and pushed Nick out ahead of him. Ashley and Derek were waiting by the outer door, so the young man had no chance to ask any questions, like, was he still under Damian's control?

Nick decided to be safe rather than sorry later, so he went with yes.

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The restaurant that Ashley chose was expensive and good.

The food was excellent and the two older men spent time over the wine list, choosing a different one to go with each course.

Even if he hadn't been wearing the collar, Nick would have been on his best behavior, subdued by the elegance of his surroundings. And yet the restaurant was comfortable, just noisy enough to not feel conspicuous if one laughed out loud and the wait staff were friendly and prompt. It was a relief for once, to have someone waiting on him. Unbeknownst to him, the restaurant was part of the club that Ashley belonged to, explaining the high quality of service.

The atmosphere was soothing and luxurious. Even Derek and Ashley seemed to relax a little with each other, speaking civilly and taking part in the conversation.

Ashley, however, noticed that the dangerous glint in Damian's eyes had increased, rather than diminished. He was wondering if the other two had had a squabble, but Nick seemed to be most attentive, watching the photographer for approval.

Then Ashley realized that in spite of the baggy pants and incredibly ugly shirt, Nick's beauty was attracting no little attention from the other guests. Men and women alike were watching Nick, recognizing him as an inexperienced sub, and Damian didn't like it one bit. Ashley was wondering what 145

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Damian was going to do about that, because he wasn't the kind of man to let that kind of threat go.

In fact, Damian was fuming. Everything seemed to be rubbing him the wrong way that day: first Ashley offering Nick the collar, the misunderstanding over Mistress Bettie, and now the older man at another table who had met his eyes more than once, staring insolently at him in a clear challenge.

The older dominant emanated a subtle aura of power and he made it obvious that he wanted Nick. A young man of Nick's age, impressionable, just starting to take a few tentative steps into this lifestyle, could be blind to the real dangers that lurked out there, and Damian wanted to keep him from that.

But most of all, Damian meant to show that man and anyone else that they were not going to simply take his boy away from him.

When Nick went to the restroom, he went alone, declining Derek's offer to accompany him; he never had been able to pee when people were watching him. He was amazed by the elegance of the restroom. It was lined with gleaming marble, dark and masculine. There were mini halogen lights suspended over each trendy vessel sink, making the glass sparkle, and real linen towels. Nick was washing his hands when Damian came in, catching his reflection in the glass. His smile faded when he saw Damian lock the outer door behind him.

Damian's eyes glittered dangerously at Nick's questioning look. He stepped up behind him and slid his hands under the boy's shirt, stroking his supple skin.

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"I don't like how people are looking you, pet. I'm going to put my mark on you," Damian growled.

"Huh?" was Nick's highly intelligent reply. He was completely unprepared for the other man's possessive attitude. "No one was looking at me."

"Shut up. Take down your pants. I'm going to mark you as mine."

Nick squeaked and held onto his belt, fighting Damian for possession of it. "Here? Everyone will hear. They'll know!"

"I want them to know," Damian said, winning the wrestling match for the belt as was inevitable that he would.

"London!" Nick gasped. "London!"

Damian stopped, his eyes clearing as he noticed how terrified Nick looked. After a long minute, he pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you'd like it." He rubbed his hand ruefully over Nick's back, feeling the boy's heart pounding against his chest. "You're trembling. It's okay. I'm not going to do it."

Nick laughed weakly and pushed himself away to look into Damian's eyes. "I guess I
can
trust you."

Damian cupped his chin. "You can. That wasn't brilliant of me, but if you found out for sure you can trust me, it wasn't totally in vain."

Nick smiled and asked in a small voice, "Were people really looking at me?"

"They weren't just looking; they want you," Damian growled, his ire rising again at the thought of someone taking his boy.

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"And you want to mark me?" Nick asked, tilting his head and smiling provocatively.

Damian was stunned; his boy was teasing him? "Let's not forget who's boss here, pet," he threatened.

"I was just thinking, you could mark me a different way,"

Nick said. "Give me a hickey."