Make Me Soar (18 page)

Alan couldn’t help himself. Not giving a damn for what those around him thought, he kissed Dorian softly on the forehead. “Yes, you are to blame for putting yourself in harm’s way, but it is
not
all your fault, not by a long shot.” He withdrew, his gaze fixed on the sub.

Dorian closed his eyes, and fresh tears sparkled on his lashes. He shuddered, and his chest heaved. “I-I was such an idiot.”

Alan let out a wry chuckle. “I won’t disagree with you, but it’s in the past now. It’s over. Time for you to accept what blame is yours and
move on
.”

“Dorian Forrester?” The nurse’s call made them both jump.

Alan heaved an internal sigh of relief. He stood up and helped Dorian to his feet. “Let’s go and get you taken care of, shall we?”

Dorian nodded and walked across the waiting room toward the nurse, cradling his hand. Alan followed, his breathing more even. Dorian’s outpouring of anger might have resulted in physical injury, but it was the breakthrough Alan had been waiting for. He knew from personal experience that this was a step in the right direction.

And Alan was more than ready to help Dorian move on.

A
LAN
CLOSED
the front door behind them and helped Dorian take off his jacket. It was a relief to get indoors. Outside the temperature had plunged dramatically. Dorian winced as he eased his arm out of the sleeve, the cuff catching briefly on the bandage that covered his six stitches and swollen, bruised knuckles. Alan took the jacket from him and hung it up.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate and then we go to bed?”

Dorian glanced through the lounge door at the clock. It was already past ten. “That sounds nice,” he admitted. He hadn’t said much on the journey home from the hospital. Between the stitches, the X-ray, the talk with Alan, and the painkillers, he was wiped out. At least he hadn’t broken the bones in his hand, which was amazing. The doctor told him he’d been lucky. There were minute fractures, not enough to warrant a cast but enough to cause him pain.

Alan patted him on the arm. “Go upstairs and get into bed. I’ll bring the drinks up. Be careful with the broken glass. Leave that for me to clean up, okay?” He headed for the kitchen but paused at the doorway to turn to look at Dorian. “And don’t forget whose bed you’re sleeping in.” Then he entered the room.

Dorian stared after him.
Bed
. He would be sleeping with Alan. With everything that had gone on, he’d completely forgotten. Another time and he would have been both apprehensive and excited at the prospect, but now? He was too groggy to think straight.

With heavy feet and an even heavier heart he mounted the stairs, careful not to catch his hand against the banister. All he wanted to do was curl up in a tight ball and go to sleep beneath the blankets.

If Alan had any plans for their first night sharing a bed, they would have to wait until another night. Dorian was in no state to do
anything
.

D
ORIAN
UNDRESSED
slowly, the painkillers finally kicking in. His hand throbbed, and he wondered briefly if he’d be able to sleep. But when a wave of fatigue rolled over him, he realized it wouldn’t be an issue—the medication would take care of that. Right then all he wanted to do was sleep. Every time he caught his hand on his clothing, he knew about it.

He put on the green robe Alan had left for him and went into the next bedroom. He switched on the main light and surveyed Alan’s room for the first time. It was decorated in shades of cream, the available space dominated by a large wooden bed. Dorian liked its rich, warm wood and the simple bedspread in dark brown. It was definitely a masculine room. The wooden bedroom furniture was practical, the surfaces free of clutter. No curtains hung at the wide bay window, but instead there were vertical blinds in cream. It was a calm, peaceful room that reflected its owner.

Dorian stared at the high bed.
Which side does he sleep on?
Although this wouldn’t be the first time sharing a bed with Alan, this was
his
territory. Dorian didn’t want to make a mistake so early on.

“I sleep on the right, by the way.”

Dorian gave a start.
Damn, he’s like a bloody ninja
. Alan walked around the bed to place two mugs on the cabinet. He pulled the blinds and then switched on the wall lights situated above the headboard. He flicked another switch, and the main light went out.

“Well, aren’t you going to get in?” Alan seemed amused.

Dorian complied, pulling back the bedspread to reveal a duvet in chocolate brown with matching pillows. He removed the robe, got into bed awkwardly, trying not to jar his hand, and lay down on his back, his head sinking into the pillows.

Alan undressed, his gaze fixed on Dorian, who couldn’t help staring at him. Every time he’d watched Alan in a scene at the club, he’d been struck by the Dom’s good looks. He loved the way Alan moved. There was always a sense of caged power about him that he’d found alluring.

Alan placed his clothes on the large ottoman at the foot of the bed. He removed his watch and placed it on the cabinet beside the bed before climbing into the bed. Dorian tried not to stare at the sight of his Dom, tall and lean with muscled thighs and toned arms, his dick soft.

Alan lay on his side, head propped up in his hand. “How’s the hand?”

Dorian attempted a smile. “It’s okay.” His chest tightened, and it seemed like his cheeks and ears were on fire. Despite Alan’s assurances that his earlier rage was normal, Dorian felt like such an idiot. Then he remembered Alan’s words:
time to move on
. It still amazed him how Alan seemed to roll with everything Dorian did. The man had to have huge reserves of calm to just
take
everything and react the way he did.

I know nothing about him
.

Dorian ignored the weariness that was creeping steadily though his body. “You know so much about me,” he began, his gaze meeting Alan’s, “but I know hardly anything about you.”

Alan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You have a point. Okay, what do you want to know?”

Dorian turned carefully onto his side and pulled up the duvet over his shoulders, snuggling it around him. “Whatever you feel like sharing.”

Alan got comfortable before continuing. “I’ve traveled a lot, it’s fair to say. I’ve lived in a few countries, mostly in Europe, but the UK still remains my favorite place.”

“When did you first know you wanted to be a Dom?”

Alan smiled. “I discovered BDSM when I was in my early twenties. My boyfriend at the time was a member of a club in London, and he took me along with him one night.” There was a faraway look in his eye. “Walking into that club was like coming home. It just felt so… right. Unfortunately it had a totally different effect on my relationship, which had only just started. He was a Dom and had thought I might make a good submissive.” Alan chuckled. “You can see now why it didn’t work. He really didn’t know me, did he?”

“No.” Even based on Dorian’s relatively short acquaintance with Alan, there was no
way
he could be a sub. The man had Dom written all over him.

“So we went our separate ways, and I found my niche. I was lucky enough to find BDSM clubs in every country where I lived.”

A light went on in Dorian’s head. “You lived in Germany, didn’t you?”

Alan nodded. “That’s why I came after you.” His expression grew sympathetic. “I know how much you can take, Dorian. I’ve watched you in scenes, remember? But I knew what the Berlin clubs, especially that one, are like. The rules are different over there. As soon as Pietro told me where you’d gone, I knew I had to find you.”

Alan’s words struck a chord. “I… I haven’t really thanked you, have I?” Dorian’s face tingled. “I know I thanked you for staying with me and looking after me, but I never really thanked you for coming to get me.”

Alan edged closer, and he leaned across to kiss Dorian softly on the cheek. “I did it because you’re worth it, Dorian.” He moved his hand lower to where Dorian’s collar lay around his neck. “I didn’t expect
this
would come out of it, that’s for sure.” He withdrew his hand and took his position once more, his gaze trained on Dorian. “Not that I hadn’t thought about it.”

Dorian felt a warm glow pulse through him. “You mentioned a boyfriend. Have you had many relationships?” He swallowed. “That’s if you don’t mind me asking.”

Alan smiled. “I don’t mind. I haven’t been that lucky when it comes to relationships. Sometimes I’d find someone who seemed perfect for me, but then it would turn out they didn’t have that one thing I was searching for.”

“What was that?”

Alan’s smile faltered. “They weren’t submissive.” He let out a heavy sigh. “That’s why I went to the various clubs. I figured I’d be on the right track there.”

“That makes sense.” Dorian had only to think about the number of happy relationships at Collars & Cuffs to see that. It seemed everywhere he looked, there were guys in love.

“Well, there was one time I thought I’d hit the jackpot. I’d been doing scenes with one submissive, and I felt we had something. But although we clicked in our scenes, there was always something missing.” He looked Dorian in the eye. “Love.” He stared off into the distance. “Outside of BDSM, in the clubs—it didn’t matter. I can’t seem to find what I’m looking for.”

Dorian’s throat tightened. The edge of raw emotion to Alan’s words was all too apparent. In that one moment he saw Alan, really
saw
him for the first time, and Dorian’s heart went out to him. He knew all too well what it was like to yearn for something, only to have it remain tantalizingly out of reach.

Alan huffed. “Seems like I can’t have my cake
and
eat it after all.”

On impulse, Dorian stretched out his uninjured hand to tentatively touch Alan’s face. Alan gave a start of surprise, but then he smiled. “Thank you.”

Dorian pulled away. “For what?”

Alan moved closer until Dorian could feel the heat radiating off him.

“For showing you care.” Alan cupped Dorian’s cheek and kissed him on the mouth, his lips warm and soft.

Dorian closed his eyes briefly and shivered, only to bite back his sigh when Alan pulled away.

“And now you are going to sleep. You’ve had quite a day, and I’m sure those painkillers are making you feel groggy. I’m amazed you’re still conscious, to be honest.” He kissed Dorian lightly on the forehead. “We can talk more tomorrow when you’re rested.” Alan moved back to his side of the bed and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into semidarkness. The blinds glowed softly from the streetlights outside.

Dorian lay on his back and listened to the familiar sound of Alan’s breathing. It was something he’d grown to appreciate that first week when he’d awoken in the middle of the night and had found it difficult to get back to sleep. The sound had often soothed him. At least the nightmares had finally ceased.

“Good night, Dorian. Turn off that brain and go to sleep.” He could hear that familiar note of amusement in Alan’s tone.

“Yes, Sir.” Dorian lay on his left side, facing Alan, his bandaged hand above the duvet but underneath the bedspread so it wouldn’t get cold during the night. The throbbing in his fingers had dulled at last. His mind turned over Alan’s words about five stages. Alan had it exactly right. It was as if Dorian had lost some part of himself that night. The last thought that filtered through his brain as he drifted off to sleep was something unexpected.

But what if that’s a good thing?

A
LAN
OPENED
his eyes and stretched, blinking in the bright light. He rolled onto his side to find an empty space next to him. “Dorian?”

“I’m here.”

Alan sat up and faced the window. Dorian was standing there bundled up in his robe, the blinds drawn back. He turned his head and grinned.

“You need to see this.”

Alan threw back the duvet and shivered.
Bloody central heating system needs scrapping
. It wasn’t the first morning he’d awoken with that thought, and he doubted it would be the last. He padded over to the window and looked down into the street.

The world outside was covered in a thick blanket of white.

“Wow. That looks deep.”

Dorian chuckled. “That’s because it
is
deep.” He pointed to where one of Alan’s neighbors was struggling up the street in an effort to walk his little black dachshund. Snow reached the top of the man’s Wellington boots, and his cute dog was almost invisible. Every now and then her little head popped above the snow. The hedges surrounding Alan’s house were now a white wall, and there was no sign of his garden beneath the thick layer. Alan could hear the excited laughter of children nearby.

“Now I’m glad we went shopping when we did.” Not to mention the logs he’d brought in the night before.
Now there’s an idea….
Alan grabbed his clothing from the chair and dressed quickly. “How about I fix us a fire?” He pointed toward Dorian’s bandaged hand. “How does it feel?”