The Mormon and the Dom (13 page)

Returning to the bowl of items in the living room, Noah removed his wallet from the cache of goods. Stroking his fingers over the tidy dimensions of brown leather, he took a moment to remember his high school graduation party, when his parents had presented him with the wallet. It was the most grownup thing he’d ever owned at the time. He remembered how unlike the cheap wallets he’d had before, this one bent easily. And the smell. Noah sighed. He had been careful never to sniff it around his family, but he’d practically sniffed the scent off the thing in a week while he was alone in his room.

Lifting the leather wallet to his nose, he sniffed. There was still a lingering essence, but nothing like when the gift had been new. Flipping the wallet open, Noah removed Ronan’s card. He stood there, stroking his fingers over the raised print. The dark brown against the rich cream was masculine and distinctive.

“Classy.” That was the one word Noah would use to describe the overall impression the card made on him. The front of the card didn’t have his last name, only his first, and a phone number. The website listed on the back didn’t have a lurid name, which surprised him somehow. No one could know what the man listed on the card did just by looking at the card, yet somehow, that annoying little voice that always seemed determined to ruin Noah’s life insisted that if he were found with the card, they would know.

As much as he wanted to throw it away to protect himself, Noah couldn’t stand the idea of tossing out something Ronan had given to him, even something as insignificant as a piece of paper. When he lifted the card to his nose and breathed deep, he imagined he could smell Ronan’s unique scent, but he was probably only fooling himself. Ronan had only touched the card long enough to hand it over. It was unlikely he’d been able to imprint his essence on the paper.

Torn about what to do with the card, Noah delayed having to make a decision by going to the web address listed on the back. Concerned that he would stumble into some kind of vulgar site with flashing graphics and loud music, he made sure to turn down the volume on his phone. What he discovered was a simple text-driven site that appeared to be an encyclopedia of BDSM. Intrigued, he erased the link from his phone and then got his laptop.

Just as Ronan said, the website was filled with information that would help him should he decide to hire another Dom. There was even a printable interview sheet that would assist him in determining if he and the Dom were compatible. In all of his forays into research, he hadn’t found this particular site or one that was nearly so comprehensive. Noah read the cautions about hiring Doms, pleased that he’d instinctively followed most of the suggestions.

The next time he looked up, it was almost three in the morning. It was Sunday, so he didn’t have to work and he’d already told his parents he wouldn’t be going to church with them, but he did like to keep to a set schedule. What further astonished him was that he wasn’t remotely tired. His head was too full of ideas about what he wanted to do the next time he hired Ronan. Because try as he might to stay away, Noah didn’t think that was going to happen.

Chapter Eleven

Almost as soon as Ronan returned home from dropping Noah off, he realized he’d forgotten his satchel. The canvas bag was still in the playroom along with the contents he’d taken out and used during their session. After cleaning everything and placing it back in the bag, Ronan put the satchel on the dining room table. While he tidied up, he stole glances at it. How difficult must it have been for Noah to buy those items? He must have wanted them more than his fear could hold him back. And today, with his beautiful body bent over the table, and his determination to face his fear—Noah was astonishing. What made the encounter even more special than just Noah gaining insight was the pleasure he’d given to Ronan without even trying. Today’s scene was unlike anything Ronan had ever experienced before.

If nothing else, Noah would call to get his items back. When he did, Ronan would have a chance to see him again. His attitude at the end of their time together was outwardly cold, when inside he was anything but. Ronan wasn’t sure if one or both of them deliberately forgot the bag, but he took it as a good sign. All he had to do now was wait for Noah’s call.

“Isn’t there a song lyric about waiting being the hardest part?” Ronan had a feeling that was going to be far too true in his case.

Throughout the next week, Ronan was hyperaware of his phone. He made sure no matter where he was or what he was doing, the device was near enough that he could hear it ring. Even while in the shower, he kept the phone near the sink. Each time he climbed out, the first thing he did was dry his hands and check the phone. Every time there wasn’t a call, he felt more and more disappointed.

Time wore on and made him reconsider how much Noah would want his things back. The bag sat on the table like a tired old dog that was just too worn out to move as it waited for its master. Each day that passed seemed to deflate it just a bit more. Each night that Ronan went to bed alone and aching, he felt just a bit more foolish. He never should have allowed himself to become so twisted up over a man he’d just met.

“I should have gotten his number.”

But in order to do so, he would have had to lie and tell Noah it was common for professional Doms to call up their paying clients. Ronan didn’t want to lie to Noah, but he also didn’t want to push Noah down a path he might not be ready to take. Coming out gay was a huge deal in and of itself. Coming out gay as a Mormon living in the center of Mormon influence? That had to be more terrifying than anything Ronan had ever faced in his life. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like inside the mind of a man who was already hyperaware of everything around him.

On the morning of the ninth day, Ronan realized he could contact Tony and possibly weasel Noah’s number out of him. Or at least he could take Noah’s satchel down to Tony’s shop so Tony could call Noah to retrieve it. That sounded like the responsible thing to do. And it would end his association with Noah. If Ronan stopped all contact now, he could probably forget him in a few months. Well, maybe not forget him, but at least he would be able to move on to another relationship.

Except Ronan didn’t do that. He wanted to see Noah again. Period. He could tell himself all kinds of bullshit reasons, but the plain truth was he was infatuated. How the hell that had happened to a man who was almost completely jaded, he didn’t know. But he was. And there didn’t seem to be a lot he could do about it but strap in and hang on. To make matters worse, for some utterly unknown reason, Ronan decided he wouldn’t get off again until he was with Noah. Generally, forced chastity was something a Dom did to his subs, not something he did to himself, but in this case, Ronan felt compelled to save himself for Noah.

“But if I don’t hear from him soon, I’m going to go crazy.” There were only so many cold showers he could take. There were only so many exhausting workouts he could toss himself into. Eventually, he was going to have to take a little trip to Handy Happytown.

Day fourteen, a Saturday, was looking likely for a hookup, but it came and went without a call from Noah, just like all the other thirteen days. Ronan no longer looked at the satchel on the table. He glared at it. Ronan gave the bundle of inanimate objects the stink eye as if they were responsible for his sexually frustrated state.

Just when he’d pretty much given up hope, his phone rang, and to his surprise, the man on the other end turned out to be Noah. Excitement surged adrenaline into Ronan’s body, tightening every muscle as it flooded his cock with blood. In a halting, tremulous voice, Noah said he wanted to come over and pick up his things.

He said nothing about a session.

Ronan thought his balls were going to explode cartoon-style from sheer frustration. The only thing that prevented him from snarling into the phone was the fact that he would have Noah here. Once he had him in the house, Ronan swore he’d find a way to get him into the playroom. But how? What was he going to do? Say something like,
Hey, I’m working on this new Dom thing and wanted to try it out on you
? Ronan shook his head. It was asinine.

“I thought you could maybe meet me at Tony’s,” Noah said.

Ronan’s hopes plummeted so low they practically shot out the other side of the Earth. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Noah. I have clients who are waiting.”

Noah sucked in a breath so hard Ronan was able to hear him clearly over the phone. When his words caught up to his brain, Ronan realized what had made his sweet little sub react with shock.

“Motorcycle clients.”

“Oh.” Relief came pouring through the one word.

“If you’d like, I can drop the bag off to Tony next week sometime.”

“No. I’d like—I want to get it today.”

“Fine. What time?” Ronan hoped he sounded disinterested and confident, two things he certainly didn’t feel. As confident as he was in his Dom ability, he couldn’t really use that when he didn’t have the object of his affection in his lusty clutches.

“In half an hour?”

“That would be fine. I’ll have the garage open so you can pull right in.”

“Oh. That would be—yes. Thank you.”

After he hung up, Ronan went around the house, tidying things. He was a fastidious man, but he wanted everything to look clean but casual. He didn’t want Noah to think he was excited about seeing him. As he thought that, he realized it was a particularly juvenile reaction. His instinct was to make it clear to Noah how much he liked him, but Ronan worried if he did that, he was going to drive Noah away. So Ronan kept his emotions tightly bound. He also understood why Noah had sounded so relieved that he’d have the garage ready for him.

Noah was concerned about someone seeing his car parked in this neighborhood. Given the types of businesses on the block, it would be difficult for him to explain his presence. Although, to be fair, anyone who saw him would have the same problem in explaining themselves. What were they doing here when they saw Noah’s car? But Noah wouldn’t see it that way. He’d feel guilty and ashamed that he’d been noticed in the first place.

By the time Noah arrived, Ronan was in the garage, leaning over a bike. He hadn’t changed his clothes, but he felt what he was wearing projected the right attitude. Faded jeans hugged his lower half, while soft gray cotton hugged the upper half. Instead of his heavy boots, he wore a pair of flip-flops.

Once Noah’s car was within the garage, Ronan pushed the clicker to close the door. In his head, he gleefully rubbed his hands together while murmuring the word
excellent
. He now had the man, his BDSM gear, and his car in his clutches. Things were definitely looking up that something would go down today.

Noah exited the car in a suit. The blah cut and black fabric made Noah look like he’d just come from a funeral.

“Hello, Noah.” Ronan was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to use his Dom voice because he didn’t think that was fair or wise. If he wanted Noah to relate to him in ways other than strictly BDSM, he had to make sure he was offering out that side of himself.

“Hi.” Noah met his gaze, then promptly looked away. “Is it out here?”

“No. Inside.”

“I’ll wait while you go get it.”

With that, Noah killed all hope. Disappointed, Ronan went into the house, retrieved the satchel, and then returned to the garage. When he stepped in, he found Noah inspecting the bike he’d been working on.

“Pretty.”

“Thank you.” It was a complicated Celtic knot in hunter green and gold. “By the time I’m done, the design will be echoed all over the metal work of her bike.”

“Her?”

“Women ride bikes, too.”

“Right.” Noah laughed uneasily as he reached for the bag in Ronan’s hand.

Releasing his hold seemed harder than it should have, but Ronan did let go.

“So, uh, how have you been?” Noah asked.

“Good. You?”

“I’ve been okay.”

“How’s work?”

The question seemed to make Noah slump a good three inches off his height.

“I’m guessing things aren’t good?”

Noah shook his head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Noah stood there in the garage. The only sound was the cooling
click-ping
of his Honda’s engine.

Even though it was rude, Ronan said, “Well, I have to get back to work.”

Noah jerked his gaze off the floor and looked at Ronan, shocked and possibly hurt by his abruptness. “I want to hire you again.”

Ronan wanted to grab Noah, haul him against his body, and kiss him until they were both breathless. But he didn’t. “Fine. Saturday at three. Bring your leather pants.”

“I can’t wear those here.”

“I said bring them with you. Don’t dress in them to come here.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be early. Don’t be late.”

Noah swallowed hard and scampered back into his car. He sat there, waiting for Ronan to open the door. After a moment, Ronan strode over to the control unit on the wall and pressed the button. The door seemed to move so slowly it must be making Noah a little crazy. Once it was up, Noah pulled out of the garage and disappeared down the street. Ronan swore his cock was screaming at him and calling him every dirty name in existence.

We could have had him, you arrogant fuck! What the hell kind of game do you think you’re playing? If I had my way, I’d make us impotent for a month just to punish you!

Eventually, his lower half calmed down and his brain smugly informed the other organs that it was all part of making himself seem untouchable. Ronan wasn’t trying to mess with Noah the man, but he most certainly was toying with Noah the submissive. Noah would come when he called. Even though Noah had to contact him to set a session up, that scenario would go down when Ronan said.

“Here’s hoping I can wait that long.”

By the time Saturday rolled around, his entire body had joined his cock in abusing him. He was so keyed up he was afraid he’d erupt as soon as he saw Noah. Luckily, he managed to hang on to his orgasm by reminding himself that today was the day. Part of the negotiation had to include his own release.