Pup (2 page)
Micah hesitated, but when Tackett only continued to smile at him, he huffed, then poured another two fingers into his glass.
“That’s all, boy. Just leave the bottle,” Bobby instructed. When Micah continued to stand and stare, Bobby added, “Boy, don’t make me take a leather strap to your ass.”
Bobby’s threat made the smile return to Micah’s face. He finally turned away from Tackett, showing his back to Bobby, and wiggled his ass, taunting, “Yes, sir. I’m going, sir.”
Bobby grabbed the bottle and poured himself a drink before passing it over to Blake. “What the hell have you done to our sweet young boy, Tackett?”
“Me?” Tackett glared at his friend. “I just came in for a glass of water and I ended up with some cocky little pup giving me shit.”
“Our young Micah is smitten.” Blake set the bottle down without adding any more to his glass. “I think it’s you, rather than Bobby, he was wiggling that sassy ass at.”
It didn’t look as if Blake had taken a sip of his drink. Come to think of it, Tackett couldn’t ever recall seeing Blake drink alcohol when he’d been in the club—another thing that demanded Tackett’s respect. He wasn’t a big drinker himself, but tonight he had no intention of playing with any of the boys, so why not enjoy some birthday spirits?
He took another sip of his drink. “His mistake. He’d get more action from big ol’ Bobby here.” He nudged Bobby with his elbow.
“Oh hell no. Rig would kill me if I brought home another stray. He prefers going to the pound and checking out the mutts first. Besides, I have a feeling that boy isn’t going to give up until he’s at the other end of your whip.”
“Your reputation is legendary,” Blake added with exaggerated jubilance. “You have ruined the poor kid for all other Doms.”
“Nonsense. Grab your drink,” Bobby said, getting to his feet and snatching up his glass and the bottle of bourbon. “We’ll finish our drinks in the office. I have a great new selection of cigars. Come, come.” He left without waiting for a response.
Tackett turned to Blake, who just shrugged, left his untouched drink on the bar, and started to follow. “He’s the boss.”
That wasn’t true. Blake had bought the club awhile back. Blake and his boy and lover, Ty Callahan, were equal partners in Guards of Folsom, but Bobby, having been such a fixture, had stayed on while trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his newfound freedom. He and Rig had talked about traveling, perhaps to look for their next sub, but so far hadn’t acted on the talk.
Owner or not, maybe Bobby was still the boss on some level, because Tackett followed him to the office without question too.
watched Tackett as the man followed Blake and Bobby out of the lounge to the offices. Every step deliberate, confident, more like an elegant dancer than a large, muscular Dom. Holy hell, the man was sexy. The way Tackett carried himself, the air of authority and, good God, that gorgeous face and body.
What the hell have I got to do to get your attention?
Micah thought before he lost sight of Tackett.
Since the first time he’d laid eyes on the sexy Dom, Micah had been taunting and teasing him. He’d done everything he could think of—from acting like the timid submissive all the way to a naughty pup. The only thing he hadn’t tried was to drop to his knees, lick the man’s boots, and beg. He wasn’t opposed to putting tongue to boot, but Micah didn’t beg for a date. If a man was good enough, he could make Micah beg for a lot of things, pleasurable things, painful things, but a date wasn’t one of them. Maybe that was what was so intriguing about Tackett Austin.
He’d always known both boys and girls found him attractive, and he was vain enough to use it to his advantage, at least where the boys were concerned. That hadn’t changed, only now he liked dominant men rather than boys. He knew he looked good—he took care of his body, was meticulous in his appearance and clothing—and he’d seen Tackett checking him out, so what the hell?
Tackett wasn’t in the club just for the drinks. He didn’t play a lot; Micah had only seen Tackett take one boy into the back rooms, a boy Micah still planned on bitch-slapping when he got the chance. Bitch-slapped thrice: once because Vincent had known Micah was scoping out the sexy Dom and had moved in anyway; another whack for the way that little bastard had smirked at Micah before being led to the back; and finally, one just because the little bitch had gotten Tackett before Micah had.
“Boy, you want to get your head out of the clouds and get us something to drink?”
Micah turned to the two newcomers who had sat at the bar without him even realizing it. He blinked a couple of times, trying to get back to reality, the charming smile he used on customers already pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Micah recognized the Dom. He didn’t know Max on a personal level, nor had he done a scene with him, but he knew he was highly respected and much sought after. Max had a reputation as being one of the kinkier Doms, into some hard-core shit, even surpassing Bobby and Rig. Pony play seemed to be one of his favorite kinks, one obviously shared by quite a few in the scene, since his live shows always sold out. Nothing Micah was into. The idea of prancing around with a tail sticking out of his ass and a bit in his mouth didn’t trip his trigger. Now, the part about being ridden hard, riding crop smacking his ass, bucking bronco, cowboy boots with spurs, hell yeah, that tripped all kinds of hot-as-fuck switches.
The other man with Max, Micah didn’t recognize at all, but he had a very obvious submissive vibe. Micah would also bet the stranger was either new to the scene or didn’t get out in public much. He had a wide-eyed stare and looked so freaked out, he could be knocked over with a feather.
“Two bottles of water,” Max replied. He turned to the man next to him. “Rule one, boy. Never, ever play with anyone who has been drinking alcohol. Most clubs, at least the respectable ones, watch for it and don’t allow it, but if you see a Dom drinking, or smell it on his breath, you don’t play with him. Got it?”
I knew it. Welcome to the world of kink,
Micah thought. Man, this cute guy was going to be one popular sub. Doms loved to break in newbies and introduce them to the lifestyle, especially one as hot as this brown-haired stranger.
Putting thoughts of Tackett on the back burner for the moment, Micah grabbed a couple of bottles of water and set them on the bar. “Would you like me to open them, sir?”
Max threw some bills on the bar. “Thanks, boy. I got it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Micah moved to take care of other customers, since the club was starting to get busy. He heard Max tell the guy never to accept a drink or an opened bottle of water from anyone. Max was definitely the kind of Dom Blake sought as members of his club. Blake wasn’t a normal club owner. Yes, he catered to the Doms, like most clubs did, but the difference at Guards of Folsom was that this club was all about the subs and providing a safe environment for them, unlike the owners of the Whip.
Ty Callahan was one lucky son of a bitch to have someone not only dominate him, love him, and care for him, but also view him as the most precious thing in his Dom’s world. Wow. You didn’t see that often enough.
I wonder if Tackett would think I was precious.
Micah shook off the thought. He had drinks to serve and customers to please, but he was determined to find out what kind of Dom Tackett Austin was firsthand.
was crowded when Tackett emerged from Bobby’s office. The aroma of sweat and sex was even stronger now, and he inhaled it deeply. Tackett loved the familiar scent. On the stage, a Dom—he wasn’t sure who, since his back was to Tackett—was giving a demonstration on flogging. The show must have been going on for a while, because the sub, who was completely nude—his only adornment a thick black collar with a silver D-ring— sported numerous bright red welts across his back and ass. He had a blissed-out look on his face where he rested against a leather-covered St. Andrew’s Cross.
Between the scents, sounds, and visual stimulation, Tackett felt the first stirring of arousal. However, he ignored it, not intending to stay. His plan was to grab his coat and head out. He felt better after the alcohol, which was warming him pleasingly, and he’d enjoyed his visit with his friends. Still, he simply wasn’t in the mood for the thick crowd or the noise, preferring to spend the rest of the evening quietly at home. He was delayed when Micah stepped out of the cluster of people and stood before him, blocking his way.
“Enjoy your birthday toast and cigar, sir?”
The kid was persistent, he’d give him that much. “It was very enjoyable. Thank you, Micah.” He started to move around the kid. “Have a good evening.”
Micah shifted, blocking his advancement again, looking up at him with hopeful blue eyes. “Could I buy you a drink, sir?”
“No, thank you. I’ve had enough.”
“Good, I was hoping you would say that, sir.” Micah looked up at him from under his lashes, heightening that innocent look he was working tonight. “I hate the taste of alcohol when I kiss. Could I interest you in a dance instead, sir?”
Tackett’s gaze was drawn first to Micah’s hips, as he began swaying to the jazzy music, then swept to the crowded dance floor. “Are you always this bold?” He turned his attention back to the kid. “You’re awful persistent and quite cocky. Not exactly traits one seeks in a sub.”
“We’re all the rage in Europe,” Micah responded with a flirty smile.
That made Tackett laugh. “I’m sure you should, just as I’m sure you’ll find a Dom who enjoys your antics.”
“You don’t enjoy my attentions, sir?”
“I’m flattered.” Tackett leaned down and whispered in Micah’s ear. “But I like my boys at my feet or beneath me, not trying to top me with attitude.” He straightened and smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was about to get my coat and head home.”
“My shift just ended. Want some company?” Micah went up on tiptoes, and it was his turn to whisper against Tackett’s ear. “I would never try to top you, sir. Not unless you asked me to.”
Micah’s warm breath against his ear, his closeness, made Tackett’s arousal swell. He hadn’t met many men as beautiful as Micah; he was definitely attracted to him. He also hadn’t met many subs who were willing to top a Dom. That in and of itself was enough to further pique Tackett’s interest.
Tackett didn’t have the same mindset as a lot of the other Doms he knew, most of whom viewed bottoming as a weakness, a position of submission. In his opinion, a man—gay, straight, dominant, whatever—was depriving himself of great, intense pleasure if he didn’t have something shoved up his ass from time to time. There was no greater orgasm than one produced by stimulation of the prostate. Unfortunately, in this lifestyle of Doms and subs, it was usually frowned upon to allow the sub to take the “dominant” role of the top, so Tackett had sought out lovers who were not into the scene when he was in the mood to be fucked.
Micah was still swaying to the beat, his baby-blue eyes full of desire and focused on Tackett. A sub who would fuck him? Jesus, that was hot. Tackett found himself being led by the hand to the dance floor before he even realized he’d nodded in agreement.
Once in the center of the crowd of dancers, Micah turned and pushed close against him, pressing their groins together as they began to move to the sensual beat. Tackett wrapped his arms around Micah and felt the hard sinews along his back, the tight little body fitting against his perfectly. Micah was a couple of inches shorter than Tackett’s six-foot-one height and probably a good fifty pounds lighter, but it made him the right height and size for Micah to rest his head on Tackett’s shoulder as they continued to move. And Tackett enjoyed the way he could cage Micah in his arms.
Micah’s hands roamed across Tackett’s back, moving down until he reached the waistband of his slacks and tugged at his shirt. He felt, rather than heard, Micah sigh when he pressed the pads of his fingers against the lightly furred skin of Tackett’s lower back.
That caused Tackett to smile. “You’re no longer on the clock, Micah. You can call me Tackett.”
Micah cocked his head and studied Tackett. “I like calling you ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Austin’. There’s just something so sexy and dommy about you.”
“Dommy?” The word choice, the way Micah said it, and the expression on his face were all like a slap to his senses, a wake-up call reminding him just how young the man was. It made Tackett feel even older than when he’d entered the club a few short hours ago.
“Yeah.” Micah giggled, only serving to emphasize his youth.
The music ended, and Tackett pressed a kiss to Micah’s forehead. “Thanks for the dance. Have a good night.” He released him and hurriedly walked away before Micah could protest.
“Hey, where are you going?” Micah called, following him off the dance floor.
Tackett kept moving until he came to the coat-check area, where he handed the ticket to the clerk before turning to Micah.