Dom of Ages (5 page)

“Oh hush. Do you want to go for a run or don’t you?”

Any other time, it would have been a great idea, but all I wanted to do after work was to go home and see what Jarod had accomplished. Speaking of which….

“Yeah, fine. Listen, you’re not gonna believe what happened to me last night at the club.” Without waiting for him to butt in, I told him the whole story.

More silence. “Ben? You there?”

“You
are
kidding me, right?”

I stiffened. “Why, what’s the matter?”

“Where is this guy now?”

I huffed. “Jarod’s at my house, cleaning, or maybe he’s out shopping for groceries. Why?”

Ben sighed. “Let me get this straight. You put a collar on this guy and then just took him home with you? After a conversation that must’ve lasted, what, all of two minutes? You really haven’t thought this through, have you?”

I was beginning to feel exasperated. “Look, what
is
your problem? Jarod’s a sub, he wants to serve, and I want someone to serve me.”

I swore Ben growled down the phone at me. “If you were a member of Collars & Cuffs and Thomas got to hear about this, you’d be out on your ear. He’s one of the guys who owns the club, and he’s trained a lot of Doms. He has this list of one hundred rules. I think you’ve probably broken at least ten of them.”

I didn’t understand his reaction. “But this is what I’ve wanted for so long, someone to take care of me.”

“Oh, so you’re paying Jarod, is that right?”

“What?”

“Because basically, he’s not your submissive, he’s your servant. He can’t be your submissive without a contract, without some discussion of his limits.” Ben’s voice hardened. “What discussion have you actually had, apart from ‘here’s money for the shopping, cook my dinner, etc.’? Did you at least make him a shopping list?”

My head was spinning. Hearing Ben put it like that really made me think.

“Eli.” Ben’s voice softened. “I understand what you’re saying, but the fact of the matter is, you know nothing about him. So no, we’re not going for a run tonight. You need to go home and clear up your mess.” Another sigh. “Sorry, mate, but it needs to be said. What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t tell you when you fuck up?” His rough chuckle tickled my ear.

That made me think. “Fair enough. I’ll speak to you soon, yeah?” We said good-bye, and I finished my lunch. Only now, each mouthful felt like I was swallowing pebbles.

I
have
fucked this up, haven’t I?

Ben was right. I needed to go home and fix things—if they were fixable.

Jarod

THE SOUND
of the lorry pulling away signaled I was alone. I went to the lounge and, as I tried to do every morning, I did some yoga to help keep me limber. I no longer had the body of a twenty-year-old, and keeping fit was important. Oh, there were days that my muscles ached, and the thought of anything strenuous with Eli made me want to be sure that I could keep up with him. After the snaps, crackles, and pops, I felt much better and was ready to get a jump on my chores.

I went to the bedroom I’d slept in and got my first real chance to check it out. A thin layer of dust had settled on the desk and lamp, telling me the room hadn’t seen much use. I had no idea how much a lorry driver made, but the furnishings in this room were nothing compared to what I had at home. The desk was either very old or secondhand. The dark brown veneer was marred and the underside was scuffed where the armchair had been pushed into it. A slender-neck lamp stood in the back corner, the bulb casting a cheery glow. The bed I’d slept in had a hand-sewn forest-green quilt of very nice quality spread over it. The covers on the down pillows were the same color, but framed with a burgundy trim that accented it very nicely. I thought about taking a shower before I started on my tasks, but realized I would sweat profusely and need another, so I put it off.

I diligently cleaned every surface in the room, and then moved to the other rooms. Each was laid out in the same style as the room I’d slept in, with deep, masculine colors. They seemed to suit Eli very well. I made the beds, gathered the wash, cleaned the kitchen, and wiped down the windows until they gleamed. Overall I thought it was an adequate job. I couldn’t help but remember how Master Phillip had insisted I clean the house naked so he could enjoy the view.

After I’d showered, I made a list of the items from the kitchen that I’d need to pick up, and then I realized Eli hadn’t left me a key. Panic gripped me. He’d insisted I do some shopping, but there was no way I could go and leave the house open. Had he been testing me to see what I would do? Thank goodness I had my coat from the previous night: the only clothes I had were my leather pants and harness.

After ensuring I’d finished everything else, I left the house, locking the door behind me. I’d paid attention the previous night when Eli had driven us to the house, so I had a rough idea of where he lived. I knew Levenshulme: more importantly, I knew where the shops were located, on Stockport Road. I went down Eli’s list, but there were things I needed too, and I paid for those separately. I ensured everything I purchased was packed decently before I made my way back to Eli’s house. He hadn’t returned home yet, so I sat on the front doorstep to wait for him, thankful that I hadn’t bought anything frozen. Not that it would have even begun to thaw in that temperature: February was turning decidedly chilly. I kept going over the events of the previous night in my mind. There was still a surreal feel to the situation.

Nearly ninety minutes passed before Eli pulled back into his drive. He smiled brightly when he saw me, but it quickly changed to a frown. He slammed the door and stalked to where I was sitting. By then I was really feeling the cold.

“Why are you outside?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. It was obvious I’d failed him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I thought—”

His face fell. “Oh shit. I didn’t give you a key. Oh damn. I’m so very sorry. You should have just skipped the shopping. I never intended for you to wait for me to get home.”

My shoulders slumped. He wasn’t angry with me. “I wasn’t sure—”

“Here, let me see your phone.”

I reached into my pocket and handed my mobile to him. He punched in a number and handed it back. “Never be afraid to let me know if you don’t understand something or to let me know that you can’t complete a task if it’s impossible. It won’t count against you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He laid his hand on my arm. “I mean it, Jarod. This was my mistake. You need to let me know in the future.”

My heart began beating faster. “In the future?”
Don’t get your hopes up, don’t get your hopes up….
I was trying to remain calm, but it just wasn’t happening.
What does he mean?

“Come on, let’s get inside with the groceries. We can talk when we’re done.”

He helped me lug the bags into the kitchen, then left me to put everything away while he went to the other room. Everything was so… domesticated. It felt like I’d been here a lot longer than overnight. And his comment about the future truly baffled me.

“Jarod? Are you finished yet?”

I put the bottle of ketchup in the cabinet. “Yes, Sir. I just put the last thing away.”

“Can you meet me in the lounge?”

“Yes, Sir.” I took off my coat and hung it up in the hall cupboard. I pulled in a breath, my nerves jangling at the thought of what he wanted to talk to me about. When I entered, he sat looking at a magazine. I walked over to him and sank to my knees, waiting for him to acknowledge me. Several minutes passed before he put the glossy publication on the table and turned his attention to me. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of me in my leathers.

“I know we didn’t talk a lot last night, so we’re going to do it now. Would that be okay for you?”

“Of course, Sir.”

“When we were at the club, you knelt like this while waiting for someone to speak to you.”

I didn’t reply, not being sure if I was to wait until he asked a question. Today was the happiest I’d been in years, and the thought of saying or doing the wrong thing, and having him put me out, caused my heart to clench.

“Jarod?”

That was a question and a weight lifted from my shoulders, knowing that I could answer without risking upsetting him.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you go there often?”

“No, Sir. It was my first time. At least like it is now. About twenty years ago it was a place called Chains. Master Phillip and I would go there every weekend and—”

I realized I was volunteering information he hadn’t asked for and immediately closed my mouth.

“And?” he prompted. “Jarod, it’s okay. I asked a question and you’re answering it.”

“Chains was very different to Spitfire, Sir. There were no pretenses about why we were there. Every imaginable kink was played out in the club. It wasn’t a showy place. There were no disco lights, or a dance floor. Submissives were allowed to speak to one another, but they never would have approached a Dom on their own. I guess… I guess I’m a relic of a bygone day.”

“The reason I approached you was
because
of your behavior. I was a member of the club prior to this one, and it wasn’t much better. The lifestyle has changed so much in the last few years. Now anyone who picks up a book has a warped idea of what it’s like. Submissives are mouthy brats, and Doms know the answer to everything. It seems very few understand the way life works.”

He sounded wistful and much too jaded for someone so young.

“When I saw you last night, I can’t tell you how excited I became. A sub who actually knew protocol. If those men there had an inkling of what they were missing out on, they’d probably kick themselves.”

Warmth rushed through me. He’d recognized my desires and approached me because of them. Mother had been right after all. Someone
did
see something in me.

“What is it you’re looking for?” he asked.

“To serve, Sir,” I replied without hesitation. “To have someone I can take care of.”

He flashed me a smile so wide, I thought his face might split.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said. “I have to be up early again tomorrow. Could we have dinner soon?”

“Of course, Sir,” I replied, then headed into the kitchen to make something I hoped he’d like.

While Eli relaxed, I set to making dinner. I lit the oven, then put a large pot of water on to boil. I diced tomatoes and mixed them with fresh basil and oregano. Once they were simmering away, I threw the pasta into the boiling water. I’d grabbed some french bread at the store, as well as some cheese and a few spices I hadn’t found in my perusal of his kitchen. I blended the oil and spices, then sliced the bread into smaller pieces, smeared them with the oil mixture, topped it with cheese, then placed them into the oven. It was a simple, but very filling meal that took less than thirty minutes to prepare.

“Sir, dinner is ready.”

Soft snores came from the lounge. I smiled as I quietly walked in to peek at Eli. I didn’t know much about being a lorry driver, but it was obvious it was exhausting. His head was thrown back on the sofa, mouth open.

“Sir?” I said quietly, not sure if I was expected to wake him. “Sir?”

He lurched up and wiped his mouth. “Okay, I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Dinner is ready.”

He took a seat at the kitchen table, and I served him a heaped plate of pasta with a side of the garlic bread. His eyes went wide when he saw it. “This looks amazing. I’m going to have to run five extra miles just to work this meal off.”

I stood, eyes down, uncertain what to say.

“Aren’t you eating?”

I shook my head. “I’ll eat after you.”

“Jarod, I don’t like to eat alone. When I eat, I want you to eat with me. I should have told you that this morning. Besides, there’s plenty here for two people. Where did you learn to cook?”

“Master Phillip enrolled me in some classes to get a better understanding of food, but I worked in a restaurant as a server before that and picked up a lot of tips on organization and preparation.”

“So you’re a gourmet cook?” he asked, holding a forkful of food to his mouth.

I shook my head. “I prefer to cook simple, wholesome foods. Do you have anything special you like?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Do you know how to make beef Wellington?”

“Yes, Sir!” I practically shouted.

“I haven’t had it in a long time. My mum used to make it on the weekends when we were kids, but said it was too much work and stopped when we hit our teen years. I think it was more that we were already eating them out of house and home, and it wasn’t cheap.”

“I’ll make it for you for dinner tomorrow, if you’d like? And I’ll prepare you something for your lunch again.” In that moment all I wanted to do was please him.

“You don’t need to make my lunch. I usually grab something and toss it into a bag so I can eat on the road, or I’ll pick up a burger from the truck that comes to the yard every day if I’m not on a run.” I must have pulled a face or made a noise, because he looked up with a strange expression. “You don’t approve?”

My stomach lurched, and I gazed at the floor.

“Answer me, please.”

He didn’t sound angry, but it was obvious from his tone he expected an answer.

“You said you run, right?”

“Yes. A couple times a week with my friend.”

“Then don’t you think you should be eating better? It’s counterproductive to load your body up with sodium, fat, and chemicals when you’re trying to be healthy.” He glared at me and my heart raced. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.”

“What? Not at all. That’s a good point. If I were to ask you to make me lunch, what would be a good, healthy alternative that would still let me have enough energy throughout the day?”

My mind flashed back to all of the meals Master Phillip had me make for him. He insisted healthy meals were the key to living a long life. Then a wave of nausea flowed over me.
What good did it do him? He still died and left me alone.