Chapter 19 #4
“Thank you, Alan. It’s good to see you again.”
“Are you looking to play tonight?”
Roy’s hand closed on DJ’s arm. “I’m here with someone.”
Alan’s gaze shifted between them. Gut-level disappointment crossed his face before he dipped his head in apology. “Oh, of course. I’m so sorry.”
“Not a problem. I remember attention to detail was a stumbling block for you.” Roy’s reserved smile offered the right mix of reproof and kindness.
“Still is.” Alan took a step back, not just physically. He knocked down the sexual siren call he’d been broadcasting, which was good, because DJ had been about to tell him to open his eyes and get a fucking clue.
And by the way, don’t ever call him Master again.
While it could be a generic term here, a courtesy like sir or ma’am, he still felt like it should be just between him and Roy. That was his testosterone-fueled reaction. Another, deeper one, was harder to manage.
As he’d told Roy, a dangerous side effect of fame was getting lost in the identity the fans adored. I’m DJ James, world famous rockstar. Kiss my ass, and let me get away with whatever the fuck I want to do.
The non-celebrity core grew weaker and more uncertain of itself, until any challenge to it resulted in a raging insta-virus of insecurity.
DJ was suddenly on the cliff edge of hurt and betrayal, ready for Roy to act way too happy to see this experienced and ready sub, and show regret at who he’d brought instead.
“James?” Roy’s voice brought DJ out of his head. He looked into concerned gray eyes appraising his well-being. Because that was Roy’s top priority.
The reminder helped. He vaguely realized Alan and Roy had been having a friendly conversation, Alan bringing Roy up to speed on things happening in the Charlotte lifestyle community, in which he was very active.
DJ recalled the first time—the first of many—he’d met a guitarist with more experience.
Asking to jam with him had taken courage.
If the guy had told him to fuck off, that would have been seriously off-putting, but he hadn’t.
Instead, DJ had learned risking rejection, rather than missing an opportunity to be even better at what mattered to him, was worth it.
Which didn’t apply just to music.
Roy was bringing the conversation to a close, a courteous but firm reminder he wasn’t here to socialize. Though Alan was responding accordingly, DJ inserted a question that brought both men’s attention to him.
“Sir, I’d like to sit and talk with Alan for a while. Would that be all right? With both of you?” He was asking for a one-on-one sit down. No Doms allowed.
Alan glanced at Roy, then at DJ. “I’m good with it if the Master is.”
Roy’s sharp eyes studied DJ, long enough to underscore that DJ needed his permission. Which told DJ he was going to give it, since the purpose of that was to reinforce Roy’s control over him. Which in turn restored DJ’s balance, kept a warm glow in his chest, and tightened his lower body.
When Roy noticed all those things, the reaction increased. It was so much like creating a song, finding the words, hearing the music roll out, gain form, become…right.
Roy pointed toward the chairs he and DJ had been using earlier. “Go there. I’ll do a circle and come back. You won’t be out of my sight.” Then, to make it sound a little less bodyguard-ish, he shot DJ a Dom look. “So behave.”
“Like that will ever happen.”
Roy turned his attention to Alan, who’d chuckled. “Please take care of my friend, Alan.”
“You can count on it, Master.”
DJ noticed they both watched Roy go, and they wouldn’t be the only ones. Anyone with a craving for uber-male-Dom would be tracking him.
While DJ was a little wary, not sure how Alan would act in Roy’s absence, the man gave him a cordial nod and gestured to the chairs. “First time in a place like this?”
DJ sat down. “I’ve been to some of the swankier places, but not to play. Not until recently, after meeting…”
As he tilted his head in Roy’s departing direction, DJ realized he didn’t know if he should use his given name or not, but fortunately, Alan filled in that blank.
“Master M is the kind of Dom who gives you the confidence to jump in the water. He’s one of the good ones.” Alan stopped. “I’m not telling you that to make you feel like I know him and you don’t. I just want you to know it, if you’re worried or uncertain.”
“Okay.” The sincere effort to show he wasn’t trying to challenge DJ’s claim on Roy made DJ feel friendlier toward him. He guessed the M was for Montague, Roy’s middle name.
“Can you tell me what kind of Dom he is? In your opinion? What would his Yelp review say?”
Alan’s teeth flashed, appreciating the humor. “Gentle but strict. Heart-meltingly gentle, and strict like a brick house. Inside it, inside his boundaries, you know the walls can’t be broken down, which makes you feel real safe. And loved, to know he keeps the walls that strong to take care of you.”
Just like that, DJ was a lot less confident.
Alan was describing everything DJ had felt and experienced so far with Roy.
He could tell himself that it was Roy’s personality, as a person and a Dom, and anyone could pick that up about him, even if they didn’t get as close as it felt like DJ and he had bonded.
Still didn’t help.
Alan sat back, crossing his legs at the ankles, which drew the eyes inescapably to his groin, but if he wasn’t self-conscious, he also wasn’t deliberately flaunting it.
“If you want a lot of pain, he’s not your Dom.
He’s also not really into having a sub act like his pet or plaything.
Or a slave. He’s looking for an equal, but one who defers to him when it matters.
One who trusts him to be his Master, no matter the circumstances. ”
“Wow.” DJ tried not to sound stiff. “Sounds like he made an impression on you.”
Alan grimaced. “He and I did some good sessions together, but I have too much deference in me. I’m looking for a Master who takes over my life a little more than interested him.”
He swept an appraising gaze over DJ. “He’s looking for the sub who lives his own life, independent but always connected to him.
Except…when the storm is raging, when there’s a million things happening around you, he calls your name, and you hear him.
You respond to him with total trust and submission. ”
Alan cocked his head. “Don’t know if that’s where you two are headed, but anyone with a brain cell can tell there’s a strong chemistry between you.
Hope you both get what you want out of it.
But if you want to do a fellow Roy fan a solid, if you cut him loose, remind him I’m here.
I tend to adapt to what a Master needs from me. The right one.”
Except what Alan had just described couldn’t be imitated.
He knew it, too, evident in the wistful note of his voice.
This wasn’t casual to him, and he was ready to be done with the conversation.
DJ let him off the hook, murmuring his thanks.
Alan rose and moved away, disappearing into the milling people and shadows.
Troubled but not really sure what to do with it, DJ found Roy watching him while drinking a soda and leaning against a high top. When DJ came to him and leaned on the other side of it, Roy pushed the soda over to him to share.
“I thought you said no one would recognize you here,” DJ commented.
“I said the type of people who I hire as clients, or connect to that world, wouldn’t be here. I’ve played with this group a few times.”
“Enough for Alan to have a good sense of who you are.”
“According to social media, you’ve had four relationships that went far enough for your lover to pick up significant things about who you are,” Roy observed. “Personal things. Would that be accurate?”
“Two, not four. But yeah, I guess so. And I get where you’re going with that.”
“I’m still going to say it. I never had a relationship with Alan outside of an environment like this. But inside it, things can get intense enough that a Dom and sub can figure out the shape of one another in intimate ways. Doesn’t mean we have any interest in a relationship beyond that.”
“He does.”
“I don’t. Look at me, Dory.”
When DJ lifted his brooding gaze, Roy tapped the table. “Tell me the problem.”
“It’s not a problem. Just didn’t want to hear anyone else call you Master, then tell me things about you I thought were my exclusive perspective.”
“You asked to meet with him.”
“I did it to myself. I get it.” He was being an insecure asshole.
Usually he could shrug it off, but underneath the weight of everything else, he couldn’t.
It was time to go back to the hotel, back to bed, before he ruined this.
Fuck, he should have told Roy to stick with two queen beds, so they could give one another space.
So Roy wasn’t having to marinate in this shit with him.
Roy put his hand on the one DJ had resting on the table.
DJ would have pulled away, but Roy pinned it there in a decisive movement DJ would have to fight to break.
“Dory,” his bodyguard said in a mild tone, “do you think it feels good to me to see women throw themselves at you, knowing that they’d line up to fuck you into oblivion? ”
“No. But I can’t do anything about that. And it’s not me they’re wanting.”
“No, it’s not.”
As Roy stared at him, waiting for the gears to turn, DJ grudgingly pushed that crank. If Roy was here with him, it was because he valued DJ as DJ. And that was more than enough for Roy.
To Roy he was Dory.
Dorian James.
Maybe it was time to stop avoiding his first name. It was his fucking name, and he should take it back from the asshole who’d corrupted it with his abusive behavior.
No matter how fucked up she’d been, his mother had given him that name. It was his.