Needing Harte (1-800-DOM-Help) (6 page)

The chill in Master Jason’s voice couldn’t be clearer.

Ramey swallowed hard as he glanced apologetically over his shoulder at Harte. He would definitely trade Master Jason’s anger for the time he’d just spent with Harte. “Is it time to go home, Sir?”

Winters cocked his head, then nodded. “Donovan, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

When Harte gave a short, almost curt nod, Ramey fought the urge to go back to him.

Harte seemed lost somehow and it made Ramey want to kneel before him to pledge his undy-ing service. He resisted the other word. It was too soon and too rare in his experience for that to happen.

He pulled on his G-string while Harte watched silently. With Master Jason and Leo standing in the hall just outside the door, the energy in the room had gone from heated to downright chilly. Ramey’s confusion threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to stay with Harte, he wanted to be home. He needed a cocktail and some loud, pounding music forcing every other thought out of his brain. Maybe he just needed to work out.

He needed Harte. Instead he stood silently as Master Jason clipped the borrowed leash to his collar and then to his belt. The three of them made their way through the club to the dressing room and then to the car. Ramey curled into the corner of the backseat and closed his eyes.

“Ramey, faking sleep is only going to postpone the inevitable.” Leo’s voice drifted from the front.

“Let him be, boy. He needs some time.” Although Jason’s voice was soft, even Ramey heard the steel. He was thankful for it. He did need space to sort things out. Anything that moved him beyond this place of feeling so lost.

Instead of just stopping and dropping him off, Master Jason got out of the car in front of his building. Master Jason held his chin after they hugged. “Ramey, I am available for discussion after six tomorrow night. Please come see me.”

Nodding, Ramey wrapped his arms around him again. He reached out to squeeze Leo’s hand then let himself into his building. The elevator seemed too closed in so he opted to run the stairs just to let some steam off. He reached the third floor easily.

Once inside, he turned on his computer. He cranked some trance music then poured himself a glass of red wine. Ramey flopped down on the couch but popped back up restlessly.

What was it about Harte that had him so wound up? He massaged his head with both hands while trying to get into the passive state of mind this music usually transported him to.

A glance at the clock told him it was just after two in the morning. He wondered what Harte was doing. Had he stayed at the club? Found another sub to practice on?

What was he thinking anyway to get involved with a cop? That could only lead to trouble.

His parents had always distrusted cops and they’d passed that on to him with their nomadic lifestyle and lack of any real parental guidance. They’d essentially kicked him out of the house when he was just sixteen because they just weren’t interested in him being there anymore, and because they couldn’t deal with his BDSM tendencies.

From there he’d had a few run-ins with cops himself. He didn’t trust them even though there’d been one or two who had tried to help him. He had the feeling that Harte might be one of those cops, the good ones. He’d shown some compassion when his partner had told Ramey about Kevin’s death. He had taken the initiative to learn about being a Dom before coming to the club, and he’d done a damn good job of it for someone new to the lifestyle.

Ramey wanted to spend more time with him, in or out of the club scene.

“Damn it. I don’t even have his number.” Ramey set the glass of wine down hard enough to slosh a bit over the edge. “This is crap.”

Getting on his stationary bike, Ramey sucked in a deep breath as his recently paddled and fucked ass hit the hard seat. As he found a somewhat comfortable spot, he set the time for forty-five minutes and peddled like he could actually get somewhere.

Harte stared at the closed door. What the hell had just happened? Could Ramey be that casual about sex? Then he laughed. Of course he could. He was a hot stripper sub who apparently was wanted by everyone, Dom or not.

And Harte was just someone who didn’t know the first thing about Domination other than how it made him feel.

Dragging a hand over his face, he decided he needed more information. Even after talking with Winters and Master Thomas and doing some research on the Internet, he didn’t feel that he knew enough. After dressing, he went back out to the bar. The club was still hopping but it felt empty without Ramey. Another sub offered himself but Harte refused. He leaned his el-bows on the bar.

“Hey there, handsome. More coffee?” Tasha’s friendly smile got one in return even if he didn’t feel it.

“Yeah. Can I ask you some questions?”

She grinned as she poured the java. “Absolutely. We bartenders are the same every-where. I’m here to listen. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Harte. Tell me something, Tasha, what drew you into this?”

“You mean this particular den of iniquity or just the lifestyle?” She laughed and sipped from a glass of water.

He laughed with her as he picked up the coffee cup. “The lifestyle. Even someone as new to this as I am can see the appeal of this particular place.”

“Well, that’s a delicate question, Master Harte.”

“Wait, stop right there. How do you know I prefer to be in control?”

“Your demeanor? The very butch haircut? Or maybe it was the fact that about ninety minutes ago you were standing right here with a nearly naked guy on a leash giving him water from your hand?” She raised a red eyebrow at him with a “duh, asshole” expression on her face.

“Okay, busted. So, are you also a Dominant?”

“Like I said, that’s a very delicate question. I used to be in the lifestyle twenty-four seven as a slave. When my Master and I parted ways, it took me a long time to get my head back on straight, you’ll pardon the pun.” Tasha sipped at her water again and focused her very green eyes on his face.

“Someone gave me a special business card, told me to call the number, that I’d find what I was looking for. After spending some time with Mistress Dru, the manager here, I realized why I’d been so unhappy with my former Master. You see, Harte, I’m not a sub or a Dom. I’m both, a switch. Depending on who I’m attracted to, who I’m in a scene with, I can take either role.

“Now, your boy Ramey? He’s a total sub and I can’t see you ever giving up control for a very long period of time. Am I right?”

“Yeah, you are. So you can go both ways? And you’ll pardon that pun.” As he intended, she laughed again.

“Exactly! So answer this, Master Harte. How did you feel when Ramey trusted you enough to let you take control, to tell him what you wanted, what you were going to do, what was going to happen while the two of you were together?”

“Like the king of the mountain.”

“And how did Ramey react?”

“He was great. So responsive, so…” Looking up at Tasha, Harte smiled. “He was amazing.”

“So, you’ve got this amazing guy who lets you tell him what to do, who responds to you in ways you never dreamed of, and he just left the bar with someone else? What’s wrong with you?”

“Our lifestyles are so different. He’s a dancer, a stripper. I’m a…” Harte hesitated then met her eyes again. “I’m a cop.” His voice came out low, he didn’t want that particular fact broad-cast in this venue.

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. Listen, Harte, let me break this down for you. You’re gay.

You’re in a profession that doesn’t take too kindly to people being gay. You’re probably in the closet at work. Now you’ve discovered that you’re also a sexual Dominant.”

The look she gave him was half-amused and half-understanding. “As if your life wasn’t complicated enough, let’s just add the cherry to that particular shit sundae, the guy you’re totally attracted to is a sub, which is a great thing, but he’s also a stripper. That’s not so great with your job. So what do you do? Do you let him slip through your hands and into someone else’s or do you take a chance? I bet if you came out at work your co-workers wouldn’t be a bit surprised.”

The other bartender’s voice reached them. Harte looked up to discover that the bar had become crowded.

“It’s last call, Harte. I’ve got to go before this crowd turns ugly. Just think about what I said.” With a quick squeeze of his hands, she moved away from their little corner of the bar and started filling other drink orders. Harte finished his coffee, left the cup on the bar with a generous tip and made his way back to the entrance.

The same bouncer stood there. He smiled briefly at Harte as he held open the door. “Did you have a good evening, Master Harte?”

“Yes, Hayden, thank you.”

“Come back soon, Sir.”

Harte made his way back to his car and sat behind the wheel for a few minutes. Glancing at the clock on the dash, he saw it was just after two. He was off tomorrow and wondered how much trouble he’d be asking for if he went back to Pulse or to Ramey’s apartment. Harte had the address from his earlier interview and no way was he finished with Ramey. He wanted more, a lot more from that particular sexy stripper.

Despite the fact that being with Ramey could mean the end of his career as he knew it, he could not stop thinking about the other man. With a sigh, Harte started the car and headed for home. It wasn’t a good time to be making this decision. He needed some sleep and he had some work to do around the house before he went back to work.

Even after that particular pep talk, the discussion with Tasha kept running through his mind. Did his co-workers really know he was gay? How could they? He’d always been so careful, so in control. No one in his family knew he was gay…did they?

Entering his home, he went straight to the kitchen for a glass of water. His thoughts were way too deep for this time of the morning. He stripped in the bedroom and pulled on a pair of cotton shorts before heading to the spare bedroom and the treadmill. A nice run should calm his mind enough to let him sleep. He’d tackle everything tomorrow—including one sexy sub who wouldn’t stay out of his brain.

Ramey knocked on the office door, waiting for Jason’s acknowledgement before pushing it open and entering the room. Jason put his pen down and indicated the chairs in front of his desk.

“Have a seat, Ramey. You okay?”

“A little tender, but I’m fine.”

“Good. I’ll be sure to let Leo know. He was worried about you. Now tell me about Harte.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him but never taking his eyes off Ramey.

Knowing it wouldn’t do him any good to ignore the question, Ramey took a deep breath.

“He’s amazing. Tentative but so damn in control at the same time. And you know he’s gorgeous.”

“Was he good to you, Ramey? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes. I mean, no! I mean.” Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, Ramey started over. “He was good to me, Sir. He didn’t hurt me, he paddled the hell out of my ass and then fucked me like there’s no tomorrow, but…”

“But?”

“He’s a cop, Sir. What is he doing with someone like me?”

“Ramey…”

“No, I know it’s stupid. He’s not really with me, right? I’m just someone he was attracted to and it was just a hook-up. There’s nothing more to it than that, right? I’m just being stupid, just hoping for more. Just wishing my life away. Well, wish in one hand and shit in the other, right?”

“Quiet!” The absolute command in the single word snapped Ramey right back to reality.

With his heart pounding in his chest and his emotions high, he met Jason’s gaze then immediately dropped his eyes.

“You are absolutely wrong, Ramey. Yes, Harte is a cop and yes, he’s new to the D/s lifestyle, you’re right about that. However, the man is more than attracted to you and he took to being your Master like the proverbial duck to water. Ramey, look at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Ramey lifted his eyes to meet Jason’s. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with what you are or what you do. Yes, you dance for a living. You take off your clothes in front of roomfuls of people. But you are not a whore and you are more than worthy of love.

You are not less than, Ramey. You’re an intelligent, totally hot man with a big heart. And you deserve someone who appreciates that.”

He wanted so badly to believe what Jason was saying, but the doubts wouldn’t go away.

“What about his job? Is Harte going to be comfortable introducing me to his friends? ‘This is my boyfriend, he’s a stripper’.”

Jason laughed out loud. “Ramey, have you ever heard Leo introduce me to his fellow teachers? Does he say, ‘this is my boyfriend and he owns a gay strip club’? No, what you hear him say is ‘this is Jason, my life-partner’. If Harte cares enough for you, his friends will accept you. Besides, I know plenty of cops who date strippers. You need to figure out if Harte is what you really want. If he is, then Leo and I will do what we can to help you, both of you.”

Jason’s hands landed on Ramey’s shoulders and he gave him a brief shake.

“Now, get your head out of your ass and decide if you want to pursue a relationship, either a real one or just the occasional scene, with Harte Donovan. And not that you asked, but I’m telling you. If you give up on this, just walk away from it without trying? Well, then you’re not as smart as I always thought you were. Now get out of here and go make some money. Your public awaits.”

Ramey felt a little better as he left the office. Yes, there were some major differences between his life and Harte’s, but could they find a common ground? Could they find a way to mesh their lives without either of them feeling cheated? He might give himself permission to daydream about that while he danced.

An hour later, as he took to the stage, he was still daydreaming about the possibility of a relationship with Harte. The music resonated through his body. The sound of the crowd, the excitement backstage, all of it filled his senses. It took him to a place in his brain very similar to the sub space he found at the hands of a good Master.

He loved the ability to just let his body go, to move with the music and please himself and the crowd. He hit the stage with a big smile on his face and nearly fell right off the edge when he saw Harte sitting at a table up front.