Dom of Ages (22 page)

“Hi, Master Eli!” the others yelled in unison. I gave them a mock scowl, and they collapsed into fits of giggles. The atmosphere had been like that for the past two hours, and I’d loved it so far.

Eli’s chuckle tickled my ear. “Sounds like you’re having a great time. I’ll let you get on with it.”

“Thanks, Sir. I’ll call you before I go to sleep.”

Eli laughed. “You think you’re going to get any sleep tonight? I fully expect to see bags under your eyes when you get home tomorrow. Six young men in their twenties? Rather you than me, pet.” We said our good-byes, and I hung up.

Gareth jumped to his feet. “Okay. We’ve got the dance moves sorted. Now we have to practice taking our clothes off to the music.”

I was suddenly aware of how still Peter had become. His face was pale, his gaze focused on Gareth.

“Are you okay?” I moved to his side, concerned.

He glanced at me, but it was as if he was looking right through me.

Alex was at his other side in an instant, Scott not far behind. “You knew this was coming, right?” Alex’s voice was gentle. “I thought this was what you wanted, to step out of your comfort zone, show Thomas how far you’ve come?”

“Yeah.” I was disconcerted to see tremors ripple along the length of Peter’s slim body.

“Maybe you were okay with me and Alex knowing about your scars,” Scott suggested, his voice equally as gentle, “but now you’re thinking it’s a different matter if everyone gets to see them.”

Peter took a deep breath before turning to face Scott. “Yes,” he sighed.

My head was in a spin. Scars?

“I guess if I’m going to do this in front of everyone at the club, then this is the first step.” Peter grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He turned around slowly and a chorus of gasps and exclamations of horror rippled around the room. His back was a mass of scars, crisscrossing over his shoulder blades and reaching as low as his buttocks. Peter’s head was bowed, his breathing even. After a minute he pulled the T-shirt back on and sat on the floor, facing us, his face calm.

“You did it,” Alex said softly. He crawled over to where his friend sat and put his arms around him. Peter closed his eyes, his cheek pressed against Alex’s. A profound silence had fallen over the little group. When Alex released Peter and sat at his side, Scott shuffled over to sit with them.

Peter lifted his chin and met our stunned gazes. Quietly and in a measured voice, he told us how he came to be scarred, and how Thomas had changed his life. Hot tears pricked my eyes, and I wiped them away. One by one Pietro, Dorian, and Gareth got up and moved to where the three subs sat. I watched the group hug, unwilling to disturb their moment. After a few minutes, they broke up and shifted apart. Peter’s face glowed, his eyes bright.

“Thanks, guys.” He gave us a beautiful smile. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to share that with you, but it just never seemed to be the right moment. Alex is right, of course. It’s time to step out of my comfort zone.”

Alex’s eyes were just as bright. He hugged Peter tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Dorian cleared his throat. “Can… can I share something with you all?” Pietro and Alex jerked their heads up, eyes wide. Dorian nodded to them, before glancing around at us. “I know I’ve only been back at the club for a few weeks, but I haven’t really talked about what happened to me while I was… away. Pietro and Alex know, and they’ve been great, but seeing as I’m about to be collared soon—”

Whatever else he’d been about to say was lost in a wave of whoops and cheers when Dorian was suddenly submerged in a forest of arms as the subs gathered him up, hugging him.

“You kept that quiet!”

“I knew something was up, but collared? That’s great!”

“Master Alan, right?”

Dorian seemed stunned by it all. When at last the hugfest broke up, he stared at his friends openmouthed.

Alex nudged him with his shoulder. “You don’t get it, do you? Since you came back, it’s like you’re a completely new Dorian. That scene you did with Master Alan? It was amazing.” He smiled. “I really like the new Dorian, by the way. We all do.”

Dorian’s cheeks pinked.

Pietro shuffled across on his bottom to sit beside Dorian. “You can tell them. You’re among friends here.” He faced the others. “You’ve seen his back, right? His brand?” There were nods all round. “Well, you need to know how he got it.”

“If only as a warning not to be as bloody stupid as I was.” Dorian’s voice was subdued.

I listened as he told us about a visit to Berlin, and its horrific consequences. My own experience of losing Phillip seemed to pale in comparison. These two young men had already been through so much. Then I thought about it. We had all come through experiences that had changed us in some way.

We were all the stronger for them.

THE REHEARSING
done, we were famished. Gareth was pleased with the end result, and kept telling Peter that Thomas was going to be bowled over by it. Peter had warmed up as the rehearsal had progressed, clearly determined to make his Dom proud.

I got the grill going, and soon the delicious aroma of burgers filtered through the evening air. The kitchen was a hive of activity: Alex prepared the salads, Dorian was in charge of burger buns, and I was dying to know what Pietro was mixing in the large glass jug. It was an interesting concoction, dark with sliced fruit floating in it.

Gareth took over at the grill while I built up the fire, and it wasn’t long before we were all sitting huddled around the fire pit, eating, laughing, and chatting. Pietro filled our glasses with what turned out to be his version of sangria. It was heavenly, a mixture of red wine and lemonade, and just what we needed after our efforts. Having said that, it was more lemonade than red wine, which I was sure would have pleased their Doms. The flames grew higher, and shirts ended up in a heap, bare skin glowing in the firelight.

I walked from the kitchen with a couple of bags of snacks, and was greeted with cries of enthusiasm. I handed them over to Gareth, who gave me a broad smile. “Thanks for joining in with us.”

“After you did your bump and grind in my lap, it seemed churlish not to dance with you,” I said with a grin. The others laughed. It had felt odd to sit on the sidelines, and no one had batted an eyelid when I’d gotten up and begun copying Gareth’s sultry moves.

Not that I’d be dancing when they performed for Thomas. No way.

I sat down on a chair beside the fire, wincing when my body reinforced that decision. “I’m getting too old for this,” I muttered. I didn’t regret practicing with them, but how I’d feel the following morning remained to be seen.

Silence fell around the fire pit, and I glanced up. Pietro was the first to speak. “How old are you? If that’s not a rude question,” he added hastily.

I smiled. “I’m fifty, and it’s okay to ask. To be honest, I expected questions before now, and I was surprised when there were none.”

The submissives gazed at each other. “We were all told it would be disrespectful to mention it,” Peter said finally, his voice low.

“Who told you that?”

“Uh, that would be me.” Scott held up his hand. Even in the firelight, I could see his cheeks were red. “And I only said it ’cause Ben reminded me that I needed to behave around you.”

“I see.” I let out a sigh. “There was a reason Ben said that.” Quickly I told them about Spitfire, and the attitude of the subs and Doms there.

“What the fuck?” Scott stared at me openmouthed. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“But we really don’t see what age has to do with submission,” Alex said earnestly.

“Yeah, we don’t have a problem with you being older. It’s kinda nice.” This was from Pietro. The others murmured in agreement.

Warmth flooded through me at their simple but genuine acceptance. “Thanks, guys.”

“Thank you for putting up with us for this.” Alex grinned. “Although it has been a lot of fun.”

I couldn’t agree more. I sat there as the sky darkened, listening to their conversations, punctuated by crunching sounds and the crackle of flames.

Peter sat beside me, studying the fire and slowly drinking a glass of lemonade. I glanced at his back, hidden in the shadows. He caught me looking.

“May I?” I gestured to his back. After a moment he nodded. I ran my hand gently over the puckered skin, my fingers tracing each jagged scar.

He sat still, his breathing regular. “Ugly, aren’t they?” The words crept out, a whisper on the night air.

I withdrew my hand and straightened. “That wasn’t what I was thinking at all. I can’t imagine the pain you suffered, but each scar tells a story of survival. Of the inner strength you possess. If I’m honest, I don’t think I’d have survived this.”

“Of course you would!” Peter stressed.

I smiled at him. “I’m glad you think so. I’m not so sure.” I cupped his cheek, turning his face toward mine. “You’re a remarkable young man, and you and Master Thomas are lucky to have found one another.”

He smiled and pressed his hand against mine. “Thank you.” I released him and we sat in silence, the chatter and laughter of the others a comforting backdrop. Maybe ten minutes passed before either of us spoke.

Peter leaned closer. “Can I ask you something?” I nodded. “It’s about your Master Phillip.”

I tilted my head. “Okay,” I said slowly.

He gazed out once more at the dancing flames. “Now and again, little things bring home to me the difference in our ages—mine and Thomas’s. Not all the time,” he added hastily. “But I’d be stupid not to realize that barring any unforeseen events, he’ll go before I do. I mean, come on, there’s thirty years between us.”

I nodded, keeping silent. It was plain this was something Peter had considered more than once.

“I’ll be honest, Jarod. The thought of losing him? It hurts, so very much. That man is everything to me. And when he goes, I’m not sure I’ll be able to cope without him.” His eyes met mine. “He’s my whole life. And I’m sharing this with you because… you’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” Phillip may have been gone for four years, but the memories of the life we shared were still there in my head.

“How did you do it, Jarod? How did you carry on, just like that?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “But that’s just it, I didn’t. I wasn’t living after he died—that was merely
existing
. If Eli hadn’t come into my life when he did, I don’t know what I’d have done.” Then I reflected for a moment. “Yeah, I do. And we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

He frowned, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, oh Jarod.” He shivered.

I took his hand in mine. “But look around you. Whatever happens, you won’t be alone. You have your friends, your family at the club.” I tightened my fingers around his. “You wouldn’t go through it alone, Peter.” I nodded in the direction of the others. “They wouldn’t let you.”

Peter followed my gaze. “You’re right,” he said softly.

I cupped his cheek, bringing his attention back to me. “So what you do, is make the most of every day you have with him. Right?”

The firelight caught in his tears. “Yes.” Suddenly I had two arms full of a young man who shuddered against me. I held him, cradling him. Peter brought his lips to my ear. “I’m so glad you joined the club.”

I pressed a soft kiss against his short hair. “So am I.” Peter relaxed, resting his head on my shoulder. I gave him a quick hug. “Now, how about you and I go into the kitchen and find the marshmallows that I bought for us to toast? I’ve hidden them in a cupboard.”

He sat upright. “Did you really? Oh, that’s cute.” Peter got to his feet. “Let’s go marshmallow hunting.”

As we walked into the house, I thought for the umpteenth time how lucky I was.

I had Eli.

I HAD
no idea of the time. We’d all piled into the bedroom a little before midnight, everyone in good spirits. After dinner Peter had pleaded for one more rehearsal, and Gareth had agreed, seeing as this was likely to be the only chance they’d have. I was amazed at how well they danced. The stripping part had proved unexpectedly hilarious, with feet getting caught up in pants and heads snagged in T-shirts, but after a while they’d gotten smoother at it. It was a happy group of subs who settled down for the night, curled up on mattresses, sheets and blankets covering them. Scott had looked around the room before the light had been switched off, and grinned. “It’s a puppy pile!”

There’d been a second or two delay before the others had burst out laughing. My confusion must have shown, because Peter, who was nearest to me, leaned over to explain amid their laughter that
Puppy Pile
was the title of the first children’s book Scott had ever written. Still chuckling, the young men had settled down to sleep.

Except I couldn’t.

My mind kept going back to that conversation with Peter. It occurred to me that our situations were not dissimilar. My initial reaction to Eli’s age the night we’d met had long since been forgotten as I’d gotten to know him. The twenty years between us simply didn’t matter.

Or so I’d thought.

Yes, I was loving this new life. Yes, I was falling for Eli; there was little use denying it. Each day we spent together only served to reinforce the bonds between us. But for the first time, I found myself contemplating the future. Peter didn’t want to think about being parted from Thomas. What was I doing, if not the same thing in reverse?

I’d be leaving Eli.

“Can’t you sleep?” The whisper crept out of the darkness from the mattress beside me. In the dim light I watched as Peter propped himself up on one elbow. He yawned. “I’d have thought you’d be wiped out. I know I was.”

“Just things on my mind.”

Peter gave a dry chuckle. “Then tell your mind to sod off and let you sleep.” Beside him Scott stirred, letting out a soft whimper, clearly lost in a dream. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait till the morning.”

He was right. “Good night, Peter.” I snuggled down under my blankets.

“Night, Jarod.” Another yawn and the rustle of sheets. “Sweet dreams.”