How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps (3 page)

Chapter Five

It was only when he was showering after his day of sinking a pond—hard, messy work at any time of year—that Jeff realised he was going out to dinner with a man. A gay man. Shit.

Was this a date?

No, it couldn’t be. A date implied both parties were expecting sex, didn’t it? And Jeff certainly wasn’t. He stood in front of his wardrobe, wondering what would be the most off-puttingly heterosexual outfit he could wear.

A football shirt. Perfect. That definitely wasn’t date wear. Jeff teamed up his favourite Chelsea shirt with his oldest, tattiest jeans and a pair of scuffed trainers. He definitely didn’t look like he’d made an effort.

But even he couldn’t explain just why he ran back to the bathroom to brush his teeth before he left.

He pulled up outside the Globetrotter at ten to seven. The evening was mild and still light enough to only need your sidelights on. He scanned the other cars there, wondering which was Eddie’s. Could it be the fancy little yellow Porsche? Or was he more of a Mini Cooper sort of man? Jeff’s battered old work truck stood out like a sore thumb among all the shiny new cars, but it wasn’t like he could afford to run two vehicles.

He got down from the truck and stood there, not wanting to look too keen by getting there early.

A vintage E-type Jaguar pulled in and eased into one of the last parking spaces, its shape marking it out as a different breed to the rest of the cars. Jeff was admiring the dark green paintwork when a voice rang out.

“Jeff, what are you doing loitering around in the dark?” Eddie got out of the Jag, grinning. Of course, it had to be his car, didn’t it?

“Just admiring your wheels,” Jeff said. “Must have set you back a fair bit.”

“Actually, she was a bargain. Bit of a fixer-upper, but I’ve got a friend who’s a mechanic, so she took her on as a project. Mates’ rates.”

“You’re friends with a mechanic?” You could have knocked Jeff down with a feather. Men like Eddie weren’t friends with mechanics. They hung out with other trendy city types. You only had to look at Eddie’s outfit to see that. Okay, so he was in jeans and a T-shirt too, but the royal blue T-shirt was a close fit and bore the logo of something or other—a computer game perhaps?—and the jeans had all kinds of weird shit going on that marked them out as designer. Even his neon-orange trainers were squeaky clean.

Men like Eddie didn’t hang around with grease monkeys.

“Yeah, she’s my cousin’s ex. You needn’t look so surprised. Never know when it’s going to be handy to have friends in different places, do you? I’ve been collecting them from all walks of life. It’s a bit of a hobby of mine. And now I’ve added a gardener to my collection. All I need now is a rat-catcher, and I’ll have completed the set.”

Jeff knew he was being teased, but he didn’t really mind when Eddie did it with such an open smile. Still. “I’m not really a gardener,” he said. “Hard landscaping is a whole different thing to horticulture, and I don’t have the qualifications for that.”

“But you’d like them?”

“Yeah. I love flowers.” It wasn’t something Jeff had ever admitted before, but this man had no connection to the rest of Jeff’s life. It wasn’t like word would get back to Jeff’s family, was it? Well, unless Eddie told Maddy, and she told Niall, and Niall ran into Tony in the village… Shit, that was a connection, wasn’t it? “Don’t tell anyone that, though,” he ordered.

“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me.” Eddie’s eyes crinkled at the edges, and Jeff had to wonder how old he was. He dressed and talked young enough, but Jeff’s skin hadn’t started creasing up like that yet. Shit, was Eddie older than him?

“Come on,” Eddie said. “I’m dying for a beer.”

He drank beer too? Posh blokes didn’t drink beer, did they? They were meant to like wine and single malt whiskies or something. And Jeff was fairly certain gay men drank cocktails, not pints.

However, it turned out Eddie drank real ale by the pint, which actually shamed Jeff from buying his usual fizzy lager. The pub had six different ales to choose from, and he went for one called Skullcrusher. That was a suitably macho name, wasn’t it? Yeah. And no one was going to think him and Eddie were a couple. Not with Eddie dressed in fairly normal clothes.

Jeff began to relax as they found a corner table and sat down. He ordered steak and chips, and Eddie lived up to expectations and ordered the mussels with the fancy French name. Seafood. Ugh.

“So,” Eddie said after the waiter had taken their order, “what’s all this I hear about you being a switch?”

Jeff choked on his mouthful of beer.

Eddie watched Jeff struggle to clear his throat. He wasn’t blushing, but he was definitely floundering.

“Where did you hear that? It’s a lie.”

“Oh, I have my sources. Like I said, friends all over. Never know when they’re going to come in handy.”

Jeff was looking really worried now, playing with the foam on the top of his beer with one fingertip as an excuse not to have to look at Eddie. Eddie took pity on him. “Don’t worry, it was only Maddy. She said some Domme wants to take you on as her sub.”

“She’s nuts. Sandi, I mean, not Maddy. There’s no way I’d ever let anyone hurt me or order me around.”

“Why not?”
Please don’t let it be because you think subs are weak.
Eddie refused to be thought of in that way.

“Just because.” Jeff glowered into his pint. “I don’t like pain, and I don’t like being told what to do.”

“What happens when you feel pain?”

“What do you think? It bloody well hurts!”

“And that’s unpleasant?”

“Of course. Isn’t it for you?”

Oh, and there it was. A question from Jeff about how Eddie experienced things. Marvellous. They were getting somewhere at last. Eddie considered carefully before answering. “Some kinds of pain are just as bad for me as they are for you. I’m a complete wuss when it comes to a headache or toothache or any pains from the inside of my body. You know. Stomach cramps or torn ligaments or what have you. But for some reason, I’ve never been all that bothered by pain coming from the outside.”

“So you just don’t feel pain all that much, then?”

“I feel it the same as anyone else, I think. I reckon I just process it differently. It feels sparkly or warm or just plain interesting. Used to always be getting the other kids to give me Chinese burns because they felt so tingly afterwards. And grazed knees were really intense, but not altogether bad. Used to love pressing on scabs just to feel that crackly sort of pain. It gave me a kind of high. The endorphins, I suppose.” Eddie realised Jeff was now staring at him like he was some kind of bizarre museum exhibit. “What? You’re telling me you never worried your scabs?”

“You end up getting scars if you do that.”

Wasn’t that the truth? “You sound just like my mum. And yeah, you’re right, but I just can’t bring myself to be bothered about them. Every scar tells a story, you know? Even if it was just about the time I totalled my bike because I was showing off in front of Ralph Tidyman. He was seriously fit for a fifteen-year-old.” Eddie smiled to himself, thinking about that one time he had persuaded Ralph to drop his trousers so Eddie could blow him. It was over way too fast, and Ralph completely ignored him after that, but he’d recently seen Ralph’s Facebook status updated to him being engaged to some guy named Marcus, so he liked to think he’d been instrumental in giving the teenage Ralph his first taste of gay sex.

Belatedly, Eddie realised he’d gone off in a bit of a daydream there, but when he drew his attention back to Jeff, it was to find him worrying his beer mat, obviously deep in thought.

“Do all submissives feel that way?” Jeff eventually asked, in a tentative kind of voice that was different to his usual swaggering growl.

Now this was something Eddie could definitely answer. “No, not all of them. For some subs, it’s all about following orders, having choices taken away from them or being humiliated. Painsluts are a distinct group on their own, and not everyone who’s a painslut is all that submissive either. I can be submissive with the right Top, but too many orders without enough sensory gratification make me feel rebellious. And I’m not remotely submissive outside of scenes. You tried ordering me about right now, I’d tell you where to go.”

“Is that so?” Jeff quirked a challenging smile. If Eddie didn’t know the man was straight—or thought himself straight at any rate—he’d definitely call that a flirtatious smile. And oh my God, Jeff looked sexy like that. Kind of devilish with his lifted eyebrow and sharp canines.

Eddie fluttered his eyelashes. “You could always try it and see what happens.”

Jeff took a deep draught of his ale and then leaned back in his seat. For a moment, Eddie thought he was about to take him up on his challenge. What would it be? Something humiliating in front of a pub full of people?

“So you get high off pain? It’s never too much for you?”

Yeah, that was more like it. “If the Top knows what he’s doing, I get high. All swimmy-headed. It’s like being drunk or something. But that doesn’t mean I love every last crack of the whip. In fact, I’m not all that fond of canings and whippings when they’re being done. Fucking smarts, but then afterwards I soar.”

“And it turns you on too? You know, sexually?”

Would knowing it did put Jeff off? Fuck it. Eddie would take his chances. “Yep. Like I said, endorphins. Of course, I’m happiest if they’re helped along by the occasional tug. I really hate it when a Top ties me up and tortures me but never once touches my cock. It’s bloody hard to come without any contact.”

Jeff pulled a face. Bugger. He’d gone too far then. But all Jeff said was “You’re right there.”

Intriguing. “So you have tried subbing for someone, then?”

“Not exactly.” Jeff’s pint was being all fascinating again. Eddie could see the moment when he reached a decision to confess. “It was my ex. We were together thirteen years. Thirteen years! You think you know a person after that long.” Jeff trailed off, but Eddie kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. “Anyway, things had gone stale, and we decided to spice it up a bit. She didn’t want to be tied up, though, so I said I’d let her do it to me. Fucking stupid decision, that was. She did a strip tease, then something I said pissed her off for some reason, and she stormed out of the house in her dressing gown. She left me tied to the bedposts. Took me ages to work free.”

“Ah. So I’m not going to need to tell you about the cardinal rule of not leaving a bound sub on their own, then.”

“No, you’re all right there. I’d never wish that on anyone. Almost dislocated my arm getting out of that one. And she’d only used a couple of her silk scarves. I dread to think what it would have been like with rope.”

“Actually, silk’s an extremely strong fibre.”

Jeff smiled ruefully. “Well, I say silk coz she used to call them that, but I don’t reckon they were that fancy. She bought most of her clothes down the market.”

“A style icon by the sounds of it.”

Jeff gave a sad smile, and Eddie told himself off for being catty. “So when did the two of you call it a day?”

“Only six months ago. I’m still getting used to this whole dating thing.”

Eddie looked at the tea light burning at the centre of the table, then up at Jeff. He couldn’t keep the wicked smile from his face. “Bet you never thought you’d end up having a dinner date with a man.”

“Fuck off, this isn’t a date.” Jeff folded his arms, which just made him ten times hotter. Why did Eddie have such a thing for riling a Top’s temper?

But just then their meal arrived, and the young woman serving it gave them a knowing look. Jeff glared at her, and Eddie smiled sweetly. “Thanks, love,” he said. “And can we see the dessert menu later please? Do you have any sharing desserts?” He turned to Jeff and said casually, “They’re so much more romantic, don’t you think, darling?”

“Fuck off.” For a moment, Eddie was sure he’d pushed him too far, but then Jeff shook his head and smiled. “You’re a right pain in the arse, you are. You deserve a good punishment for that.”

Eddie waited for the waitress to move out of earshot before leaning forward. “I’ll happily accept a spanking. You look like you’ve got great hands for it. Big and wide. And those arm muscles look like you could pack a good wallop. There’d be no need to hold back with me, you know. I can take as much as you can give.”

Jeff’s pupils flared, and though he shook his head, he kept eye contact with Eddie. Yep, he was thinking about it all right. Now all Eddie had to do was keep him happy for the rest of the meal, and see where things led from there.

Jeff didn’t know what the fuck was happening to him, but at some point in the last hour, he’d gone from being determined nothing was going to happen with Eddie to being equally determined to give the man a royal spanking for his cheek. It wasn’t like either of them would have to take any clothes off. There’d be nothing sexual about Jeff putting a fully clothed man across his lap and giving his arse a bloody good wallop. Teachers used to do it, didn’t they? And his dad had done it to him once or twice.

Yeah, it would be more like Jeff asserting his authority and showing the cheeky bastard just who was boss.

They didn’t end up getting dessert after all, because when the waitress arrived to clear their plates, Jeff told her not to bother with the menu.

Eddie gave him a quizzical look.

“We’re leaving,” Jeff announced. “For my place.”

“Really?” Eddie leaned back in his seat and gave Jeff a lazy smile. “And what makes you think I’d be willing to go back to some isolated cottage with a man I barely know?”

“Because you’re gagging for it.”

“Am I now?”

“You’ve been making eyes at me all evening.”

Eddie raised one eyebrow. “I’m surprised you noticed. Most aggressively heterosexual men choose to ignore it when I flirt.”

Jeff had had enough of the banter. He stood up. “So, are you coming or not?”

“Well, that depends. We haven’t talked through what we’re going to be doing yet. I haven’t let you know my limits either.”

“Niall said you don’t really have any.”

Now Eddie leaned back in the booth, crossing one leg up on the other knee. “Well, that’s blatantly untrue. I have some limits. There’s really gross and dangerous stuff I won’t do, but yeah, he’s right. I’ve tried most things.”