Bound and Determined (51 page)

me get asked to leave, but I will if you don't want me here. I just wanted to talk

to you, and Alex told me that you'd be here tonight.”

Something told Owen to check on Sterling, so he turned his head toward

the table. Sterling was kneeling as he'd been told to do, but he was tense and

he was watching Owen and Kirk. Owen smiled at him, hoping to relieve his

anxiety, and then said to Kirk, “You know that almost everyone here is aware of

what you did to Sterling?”

Kirk flushed. “Yes.”

“And you know any Dom who abuses a sub isn't welcome in this

community.”

“It was an accident,” Kirk said. “I didn't know about his shoulder being a

problem. Which doesn't excuse what happened—I take full responsibility for

that. I got in over my head.”

“You've always been over your head here,” Owen told him.

Kirk nodded, meeting his gaze. “I know. You're right. But I'm hoping—I'm

hoping you'll give me your permission to stay. I just want to watch and learn.

I'm willing to be here as an observer only, until you say otherwise.”

Studying his face, Owen thought about it. It wasn't an unreasonable

request, but it was missing something. “You can stay,” he said slowly, “if it's

okay with Sterling. He's the one you owe the biggest apology to.”

“I
want
to apologize to him,” Kirk said. “You—you wouldn't let me talk to

him—I get that, I do—but I want to tell him face-to-face that I'm sorry I didn't

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do it right, any of it.” He was taller than Owen, all wide shoulders and muscles,

but he seemed visibly diminished tonight. Attitude, Owen thought. It was all in

the attitude. “He wanted something from me and I didn't—”

Something in Owen's eyes must have told Kirk that he was heading for

dangerous ground because he stopped talking then, his eyes anxious, pleading.

It had taken Owen a while to get over the thought of Sterling kneeling at Kirk's

feet begging for something only Owen should have given him, and being

reminded of it now was rekindling a resentment that he knew he had to let go

of.

“You can talk to him,” he told Kirk, “but this is one decision he'll make for

himself. Having said that, if you upset him, you'll answer to me.”

Owen turned and beckoned Sterling over, not missing the slight hesitation

before Sterling rose gracefully.

He thought that when Sterling joined them the boy stood a little closer to

him than he normally would have, which meant he wanted to be protected, or

at least to know that Owen would protect him if it became necessary.

“Kirk wants to talk to you,” Owen said, placing a hand on the back of

Sterling's neck. “But it's up to you. You don't have to if you don't want to.

Either answer is fine. Are you willing to hear what he has to say? I'll be here

the whole time.”

Sterling's eyes were on Owen, but they flickered briefly to Kirk before he

answered. “Yes, Owen.” Then he looked obediently but warily at Kirk, waiting.

“I'm really sorry about what happened,” Kirk said. “I screwed up in plenty

of ways, and all of it was my fault, not yours.”

“I know that,” Sterling said sharply. “The only part that was my fault was

in going to you thinking you knew what you were doing.”

That seemed to unsettle Kirk, who had already been unsettled enough

that it surprised Owen he'd shown up at all. “I'm really sorry. And I'm willing to

make it up to you in whatever ways you want me to. Is there anything I can

do?”

Sterling shook his head. “No. Well…don't do it again, to anyone. And don't

hurt Alex. If you do—”

“I wouldn't,” Kirk said fervently. “I never have. Ever. I mean, I'm not

making excuses, but what I did to you wouldn't have hurt you if your shoulder

had been okay, right? What I did wrong was not asking if you had anything

going on I should know about, but God, I wouldn't have hurt you deliberately.

You've got to believe that.”

Not looking convinced, Sterling said, “I don't. If I'm being totally honest, I

think you're probably going to end up hurting Alex too, and probably physically

and not just emotionally. Which is why I've been doing everything I can to

convince him to stop seeing you.” The more Sterling said, the angrier he

sounded, his voice rising, and Owen was aware that they were attracting more

attention than was desired or appropriate.

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“Sterling, that's something for Alex to decide for himself,” he said. He ran

his hand over Sterling's back and felt the rigidity of stiff, tense muscles.

Annoyance rose within him; he'd wanted this night to be perfect, and Kirk was

spoiling it for Sterling, unintentionally, but Owen wasn't that interested in

being fair, not when it came to Sterling. “Alex has decided to give Kirk a second

chance, and from what I know of him, that's a decision he took after thinking it

through, so we should respect that.” Even if we both think he's making a

mistake, he added silently.

Kirk, looking woebegone and contrite, nodded. “He has, and I'm really,

really grateful about that, but he misses coming here—so do I—and I just…” He

glanced around the club again, naked longing on his face. “There isn't

anywhere else we can go and feel like we belong. At work I'm not even out, for

God's sake, and if they knew I was into this—Not being part of it—it hurts.

Maybe I deserve that, but…”

“So what do you want from me? Forgiveness? Sorry, but it's not that

easy.” Sterling was looking at Kirk coldly.

“I'd do whatever you wanted to earn it,” Kirk said. “I was hoping—I just

want to be able to be here with Alex. Not to play, just to watch and learn. I

want to learn how to do things right.”

“Fine,” Sterling said. “Fine, whatever.”

Owen decided that enough was enough. Sterling was getting upset, and

any true reconciliation with Kirk was obviously a long way off, but that

concession was something, at least. He caught Kirk's eye. “Why don't you go

and bring Alex in?”

“Yeah, I'll do that. I—thanks.” Kirk moistened his lips. “Thank you,” he

said again, his shoulders straightening as if some measure of dignity had been

restored.

Knowing that they were being watched and not wanting Kirk's exit to be

misread, Owen put out his hand, and when Kirk extended his, shook it firmly.

Kirk hurried away, and Owen put his hand on the back of Sterling's neck

again, the smooth skin warm against his palm.

“Good boy,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Don't worry; he won't come

near you or talk to you without my permission, and he won't get it.”

Sterling turned toward him, in close so that, with his bent head, his face

couldn't be seen by anyone, hidden by the curve between Owen's neck and

shoulder. He wasn't trembling; Owen would have been able to feel that. “Yes,

Owen,” he said, no doubt using the familiarity of the words to calm himself.

“Thank you. I just—I think about what he's like, and what he could do to Alex,

and I start to lose it. I don't want to lose it here.” He pulled back a little bit so

that Owen could see his face and read the plea on it.

“You won't lose it here,” Owen said, making it a command the way he

knew Sterling wanted it to be. “I have everything under control. Take a few

deep breaths and let all this go; then we'll go back to the table.”

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221

Sterling did as he was told, and half a minute later they were walking

back to their spot. Elise nodded at Owen approvingly, then gave verbal

approval of Sterling so that Sterling could hear it. “Your boy is very well-

behaved.”

“Yes, he is,” Owen said, and Sterling, kneeling beside him, wasn't able to

hide his smile.

He took a sip of his drink and sat for a while watching the people around

him and letting Sterling regain his composure. At times like this, when Sterling

was emotionally wound up, he could feel the connection between them

strengthen and grow, and he knew when Sterling was ready for the touch that

brought his head up, their gazes meeting.

“The sub out there is doing well, isn't he?”

Given tacit permission to look, Sterling turned his head. The dance floor

was set lower than the area with the tables, and even kneeling, Sterling could

see some of the scene. The sub's back was marked with more than ink now;

red lines crossed it, and even from here, the sound of his moans carried

clearly. Owen stared, seeing through a Dom's eyes, and wondering how Sterling

perceived it. Owen watched the Dom's arm rise and fall, heard the flat slap of

leather on skin, and admired the accuracy of each stroke and the measured

rhythm the man had found.

Sterling was probably looking at the sub, kneeling up, his face visible now

and then as he moved his head from side to side, his wrists bound together in

front of him, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. The sub's eyes were

closed, his face transfigured by sensation, emotion, his lips shaping words that

Owen knew would be pleas for more, spilling out with every whimper, every cry

of pain.

It took Sterling a little while to answer, and when he did, it was a bare

whisper. “Yes, Owen.”

“You'll do better,” Owen said and curved his hand around the back of

Sterling's neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin below Sterling's ear, his

grip firm, possessive. “Won't you, boy?”

“Yes, Owen.” Sterling looked up at him, face open and trusting, happy.

The scene on the floor ended, Dom and sub both breathing heavily. The

sub lifted his head, and Owen didn't need to see his face to know that the way

he was looking at the Dom was similar to the look Sterling had been giving

him. The Dom helped the sub to his feet and stroked the side of his face,

murmuring what were no doubt praises, and led him off the floor to the mild

applause that were actually significant praise in the community.

Owen let the crowd disperse and finished his drink. There was no rush,

and he was enjoying watching Sterling try so very hard to stay still, be patient,

when his breath was coming in quick, rushed gasps and his erection was plain

to see.

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“Calm down,” Owen said finally when Elise's attention was on her own

sub. “Focus, remember? When you're ready, I'm going to take you out there

and show you off. I'm going to peel the shirt off your back and clamp your

nipples, pinch them tight. You'll like that, and everyone's going to love

watching your face because you show it all when you're hurting, everything

you're feeling is right there, and you're beautiful. So very hot. I should spank

you in front of a mirror, make you watch yourself. Yes, I think I will…”

Sterling whimpered and then went very still, his breathing slowing down.

He wanted it enough to concentrate on being calm, Owen thought, pleased. It

was so easy to read Sterling—he was the most transparent sub Owen had ever

come across, and Owen couldn't imagine ever growing tired of it. It had been

very enjoyable over the past weeks, refusing to let Sterling come for more than

a month, although Sterling had admitted, shamefaced one morning, that he'd

had a wet dream during the night.

Owen had punished him for that, but not
too
harshly.

Thinking about Sterling out on the floor, everyone watching them, was

enough to make Owen impatient too. He knew how delicious Sterling looked

with his nipples clamped, sweat glowing on his skin, pupils dilated and lips as

swollen from being bitten as his nipples would be when Owen finally took off

the clamps…

He let the background noise of the club, the music, the voices flow back

and then began to speak again, loving the way Sterling turned his head just a

fraction at the first word. His Master's voice. Yes. “And when you're getting

used to the way they bite you, when you think you can handle the pain, my

brave boy, I'm going to make you kneel, back straight, head up, nowhere to

hide that delightful blush, because this is you on display, Sterling, this is me

showing the club what I own, how lucky I am to have such an obedient

submissive, so eager to please. And I'm going to whip you, that flogger I used

the first night you came in here, but you won't be watching tonight. You'll be

feeling it across your shoulders and neck, your back and your chest. I'll whip

you scarlet and stinging until the tears are rolling down your face and you're

about to come, right there, in front of everyone, and I might allow that if you've