Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Stefan
Maybe it was seeing himself surrounded by toys and leather, or reminiscing about our morning fuck, or any number of fragments that were taking up space in his head.
All I knew was that the moment I closed my front door, Kieran launched, our lips collided, and he stole my breath away in a kiss that left me raw and needing.
Then he dropped to his knees in front of me, popped the button on my jeans, unzipped them, and I truly forgot to breathe.
I cupped his chin, tilting his face towards mine.
“You… you don’t have to do this, you know. I mean, we don’t need to get physical every time we—”
He rose quickly, stopping my words with his hand. “But I want this. All the way back here, all I could think about was getting to enjoy one of my favourite things.” Then he narrowed his gaze. “Mention raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens, and you’re a dead man.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that was the last thing on my mind, but he chose that moment to lower himself to his knees once more, tug my jeans past my hips, and take me into his warm mouth.
I groaned and cradled his head in my hands, sliding deeper.
“I was going to mention that line about doing something good when I was younger…”
His eyes snapped up, glinting.
“But I don’t think I’ll bother,” I added quickly. Then I closed my eyes and lost myself in an eager mouth and restless fingers.
Judging by the speed with which he brought me to climax, Kieran was proving himself a very apt student.
“Oh God, look at all this.”
I loved the note of awe in his voice. I stood behind him, my hands on his shoulders as he stared at the contents of my wardrobe—my leather wardrobe. Trousers hung on one side, shirts and jackets on the other. The bottom held racks filled with boots, and belts lay in coils in drawers.
I pointed to the bed. “Sit.”
Kieran arched his eyebrow. “I feel like a student about to be graded.”
“Close—you’re about to be schooled in how to dress.”
He laughed but did as I asked, watching me as I worked my way through the racks, selecting items before laying them on the bed next to him. I didn’t rush. This wasn’t about throwing something together.
What he wore mattered.
What he felt when he saw his reflection for the first time mattered too.
I selected each piece with care: a black shirt, short sleeves, structured enough to hold its shape; leather jeans, well cut, but not ostentatious; a belt; and finally, a pair of boots that I prayed would fit.
I didn’t want it all to feel like a costume.
I handed them to him. “Try these.”
Kieran glanced down at the pile, then back at me. “You say that as if I have a choice.”
I grinned. “You don’t.”
His smile lit up his face. Then he stood and headed for the bathroom.
“You’re not going to get changed in front of me?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “No.”
I rolled my eyes. “Kieran, I’ve seen you naked.”
“Well, you don’t get to see this until I’m ready.” And with that, he closed the bathroom door behind him.
I allowed myself to anticipate his reaction. My gut said he would look good.
What will he say?
The door opened, I looked up, and forgot to breathe.
It wasn’t the leather—it was him.
The way it sat on him as if it had been waiting, the way his body carried it without effort, without pretence. It didn’t look borrowed.
It fit, perfectly.
Kieran stopped inside the bedroom doorway, glancing down at himself, then across at the mirror. He turned, as if checking the angles, taking it in piece by piece.
God, the light in his eyes…
“Is that me?”
The wonder in his tone undid me.
I stepped closer, slow enough not to startle him. “Yes.” Except that wasn’t a good enough answer. “No,” I corrected. “That’s you without hesitation.”
He stilled, and I couldn’t miss the shift in his posture. It wasn’t confidence—not yet—but recognition.
“I don’t feel any different,” he said after a moment. The tremor in his voice belied that statement.
“You will.”
He glanced at me, uncertain, and I stepped closer again, adjusting the collar of the shirt, a small, deliberate gesture.
“You’re not putting something on,” I said quietly. “You’re allowing something through.”
His breathing caught at that. “I look…” he began, then stopped.
“Go on.”
His gaze flicked back to the mirror. “Like I belong here.”
And there it was.
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “You do.”
Kieran met my eyes in the mirror, and for a moment, neither of us looked away.
This wasn’t about clothes, or a concert.
It was about him seeing what I had already seen from the beginning—and realising it had been there all along.
I felt the pull of the moment, the awareness of him, of how close he was, of how naturally he fit into my space now.
“Do you like how I look?” His question was almost hesitant.
“Let me show you how much I like it.” I went over to him, took his hand in mine, and brought it to my crotch.
His breathing hitched, and then he grinned.
I narrowed my gaze. “And before you get any ideas, we have a concert to go to.”
He laughed, his eyes bright. “Hey, you started this.”
“And I’m finishing it, right here, before you begin taking off all that leather you’ve just poured yourself into.”
“Spoilsport.” He frowned. “Can I walk in this? Or sit down?” He moved experimentally. “It creaks.”
I chuckled. “The pews will make a lot more noise than you do.”
He peered at his reflection again. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
I couldn’t help myself.
I wrapped my arms around him and brought my lips to his ear.
“It’s a very genteel event, and the performers will be amazing.
There’ll be a glass or two of Prosecco beforehand and during the interval…
” I stared at him in the mirror. “And everyone there will be wondering who is the gorgeous bear on my arm.”
His breath caught in his throat, and my own tightened.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I murmured. Then I slid my hand lower to cup the bulge in his leather jeans. “But I know exactly what I’d like to do to you.”
Being on time was never my strong suit.
Kieran
The church was about a ten-minute walk from Stefan’s apartment, and ahead of us, I spied a lot of men in leather, all walking in the same direction.
“Will everyone be in leather? And will everyone be male?”
“I’ve seen women before now, usually three or four of them. And there might be a few people not in leather.” He took my hand in his. “You look stunning.”
I glanced at our laced fingers. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“The compliment or my hand?”
I smiled. “Both?”
“Get used to the former—you’ll be on the receiving end of a lot of those before the night is over. And my hand is yours, anytime you want it. You only have to reach for it.”
His words settled on me, as comfortable as a soft blanket.
In front of the church, a crowd had gathered, and cigar smoke drifted on the evening breeze. I sniffed the air appreciatively.
“Do you smoke?” Stefan asked.
I shook my head. “I like the aroma, though.”
He led me towards the wide wooden doors. “The benefits of having VIP tickets is that you get to queue jump,” he said with a smile.
Inside, music played quietly in the background, and behind a long table, two men poured Prosecco into glasses.
I blinked. “Somehow I didn’t expect to see drag queens in the audience.” She was dressed as a nun, but with a very large, elaborate headdress. As we approached, she handed out what looked like programmes.
Stefan chuckled. “That is one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. They’re a charity, and they do a lot of good work.” He pointed to the table. “Would you like a glass?”
“Please.”
One of the Sisters beamed when she spotted Stefan, and kissed him on both cheeks. “It’s been too long. How are you?”
“I’m good.” Stefan gestured to me. “This is Kieran, who’s visiting from the UK.”
“Welcome, Kieran.” She smiled, then handed me a programme. She glanced at Stefan. “Darling, you have such good taste in men.”
I knew my cheeks had to be pink.
Then I realised Stefan hadn’t been kidding. I was being stared at, not to mention whispered about.
I checked my clothing.
Stefan leaned in. “Relax. You look incredible. That’s why they can’t take their eyes off you.”
I took refuge in the programme. On the cover was a black and white photo of the musicians, and one glance at the pieces had me smiling.
“This programme is fantastic.” There were piano pieces, a cello, a harpsichord… Then I saw the opening piece, and I laughed. “The Imperial March from Star Wars—on a church organ?” I couldn’t wait. “Where are we sitting?”
Stefan led me along the aisle to the front, where a curved row of chairs had been set out in front of the pews. He nodded to the right. “We’re at that end.”
I got a better look at the men around us. They wore varying styles of leather, and as he’d said, there were all shapes and sizes.
“What are the sashes I keep seeing?”
“Leather competitions.”
I blinked. “That’s a thing?”
He nodded. “I’ve already seen Mr. France Leather, Mr. Spain... There are people here from all over Europe.”
We took our seats next to a good-looking dark-haired man and his partner, who were speaking quietly in Spanish. They greeted us with warm smiles.
“Stefan!” A handsome black man dressed from head to toe in leather walked towards us from backstage, beaming.
Stefan rose. “Hey.” They exchanged kisses. Stefan touched my arm and introduced me. The guy turned out to be Tyrone, and he and his husband were the organisers of the concert.
“Kieran is a musician,” Stefan told him. “A pianist.”
Tyrone’s eyes lit up. “Ooh.”
I laughed. “I know what just went through your mind.”
He grinned. “Hey, I’m always thinking a year ahead. At least consider it. And if you decide to be a part of this, Stefan knows how to get in touch with me.”
“I’ll consider it.” I meant it.
“Thanks. Enjoy tonight.” And with that, he got onto the stage and addressed the audience.
Classical music—surrounded by men in leather.
I didn’t see this coming.
Stefan