Chapter Twenty-Five Colin
Chapter Twenty-Five
Colin
Declan and I walk side by side down the street in Amsterdam. I’m eating a chocolate-covered waffle, and he has his arm around my shoulder, mostly to keep me from wandering into the bike lane and nearly being killed.
“An advert, huh?” he asks before taking a puff off of his cigarette.
“Not just any advert. A cologne advert. They usually give those to, like, models and A-list celebrities,” I reply before taking a bite.
“They chose you though, so they must know what they’re doing then,” he replies.
I smile to myself. There’s something about his compliments that just feel better than anyone else’s.
“This could be a huge break for me,” I say.
“I have no doubt, Shakespeare. It’s only a matter of time before the world discovers what a star you are.”
“You’re just saying that,” I reply, turning toward him with a soft grin on my face.
“I would never lie to you.” Then, he shoots me one of his signature winks and leans forward to steal the last bite of my waffle.
He ends up with chocolate all over his face, so we both stop, and I wipe it clean.
We’re chuckling in the middle of a warm summer street in Amsterdam, and it feels like heaven.
We feel like a couple.
It’s the only thing that gives me the confidence to bring up what I want to bring up. “So…” I say before tossing the paper and napkin into a nearby bin. “I’ve been learning some things.”
His brows shoot upward. “Oh yeah? What kinds of things?”
We continue our walk along the canal, and while we’re supposed to be admiring the architecture and city, I’m too distracted by him.
“Things for us,” I say, starting simple.
His head turns as he stares at me quizzically. After discarding his cigarette butt, he puts his hands in his pockets casually. “Okay,” he mutters quietly.
“You know…” I stammer. “Things you could tell me to do. Or things you could do to me…”
“I’m listening.” He’s watching me from the corner of his eye as he walks.
“It’s not quite the conversation to have in public, Declan,” I reply as I glance at the other pedestrians around us.
“We’re in Amsterdam, Shakespeare. Whatever it is, they’ve heard it.”
I laugh out loud as I spot a pub to our left. With a grin and a shake of my head, I grab his arm and drag him inside. We find a corner table and order two Heinekens while I work up the nerve to have this conversation.
“All right,” he says, placing his hand on my bouncing knee. “Tell me everything.”
The pub around us is noisy, but the corner we’re in feels quiet and intimate.
He’s leaning toward me over the warm glow of a lit candle inside a small green jar.
Suddenly, all of my nerves dissipate as I realize this is Declan.
I can tell him anything. I can trust him with my life. He won’t laugh at me or judge me.
I rest my hand on the table, and he instantly sets his on top of it as a show of comfort.
“So when I say that you can do whatever you want to me, I mean it. And I want you to. You could…” I gulp down my nerves. “You could tie me up. You could…punish me. Make me your slave or turn me into furniture for all I care. I just…like the idea of being…used by you.”
Declan doesn’t tear his eyes away from me for a moment as I’m speaking. And even after I’m done, he’s staring across the small space as if I’ve just stunned him into a trance. When he finally blinks and turns his gaze away, he has to clear his throat before speaking.
“We would need a safe word,” he says.
“Sure,” I reply with a shrug. “But that’s something you’d like?”
“Of course,” he says breathlessly.
Then, I lean forward until we’re just a breath away from each other. “I don’t just want you to take control, Declan. I want to feel your power. I want you to use it on me.”
He makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper.
“Anything I want?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, testing the title on him, and he responds by biting his bottom lip.
I wish we were alone right now, and I think he does too. Under the table, he squeezes my knee to the point of pain.
“Pick a safe word,” he says.
In my head, I know I’ll never use it. But he wants me to choose one, so I will.
“Amsterdam,” I reply.
“Fine,” he says. “Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We ditch our half-full beers on the table and practically bolt out of the pub. We don’t say a word as we rush back to the houseboat. I stay just behind him as we go, loving the way this submission feels already.
I meant every word I said to Declan, but I wonder if he realizes just how far I’m willing to go for him. It feels as if our physical relationship is at a precipice, and it’s up to us to take it to the next level.
When we reach the houseboat, he unlocks the door, and we rush inside. “Get on your knees,” he barks immediately, not wasting one second.
I’m filled with excitement as I drop to the floor. My heart feels like it could beat its way right out of my chest.
He undoes his belt and walks toward me, looking sexier and more dominant than I’ve ever seen him. My cock is throbbing in my pants already.
“Listen to me, Shelby,” he says, and I notice the way he uses my last name in sexy scenarios. My first name is only for very cross, serious moments. And Shakespeare for everything else.
I gaze up at him obediently, ready to be the best fucking sub for him.
“I want to hear you promise me right now that you’ll use that safe word if you need to.”
There’s a flinch in my expression. That’s not what I expected to hear. “Of course, but I won’t need to,” I reply, trying to show him just how much I trust him.
“We need limits, Shelby.”
“I don’t want limits,” I argue.
He takes my chin in his grip. “I’m fucking serious, Colin. Tell me right now that you’ll use it.”
I hesitate for a moment. This isn’t going how I planned at all, and we haven’t even started yet. Is he expecting me to stop him? I don’t want to do what I want. I want to do what he wants.
“I don’t understand. I trust you. You know I do,” I reply softly.
His shoulders melt away from his ears, and I see the disappointment wash over his features. Feeling the need to correct this situation, I add, “Declan, I want you to hurt me.”
He releases my chin and steps away. With a withered sigh, he drops onto the bed and rests his arms on his knees.
“What did I do?” I ask.
“Come here,” he says in a soft command.
I move to all fours and crawl toward him. When I reach his knees, I settle myself between them. Resting his hands on my face, he pulls me up until I’m nearly kissing him.
“I know you trust me, Shelby. But I need to trust you. I don’t want to really hurt you. I want to know that when I’ve found your limit, you’ll tell me. But I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” I plead. “I’ll tell you.”
But he shakes his head. “No, you won’t.”
Deep down, I know he’s right. I won’t. There’s no scenario where I’d be willing to stop him. No chance that I’d ever speak up or make him stop, because even that takes courage I’m afraid I don’t have.
Emotion boils inside of me. It’s anger and embarrassment and sadness. I feel my cheeks heating as tears fill my eyes. Humiliated, I try to pull away, but he stops me.
“I said come here,” he says, holding me closer. And when he pulls me into an embrace, I try to get away, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, I press my face to his chest and let out an angry sigh.
“What is wrong with me?” I ask.
“Why do you always ask that? There is nothing wrong with you,” he whispers. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be dominated, Shelby. But it’s my job to protect you.”
Trembling in his arms, I realize he doesn’t mean his job as my friend, but his job as my Dom, and that shakes me to my core.
“Then, why can’t I do this? Why can’t I speak up for myself?”
“I don’t know, baby,” he replies. Every time he lets that pet name slip, it makes my heart stop.
I hate how good it feels. “We can work on it, though,” he says.
“I think we just got excited, and we almost jumped into something that takes time and preparation. We can do little things until we get there.”
“We?” I ask, knowing that there are only eight days this summer and then twelve whole months until we’re together again.
“Yes, we,” he says. “Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to send you back to LA like this and let someone else who doesn’t care about you step all over you. Not on my fucking watch.”
I laugh into his chest as he holds me. Then I say something I haven’t said in a very long time.
“You’re my best friend, Declan.”
He squeezes me tighter. “Aye. And I always will be.”
Part of me thinks he says that because he knows I want more, and he wants to let me down gently. He knows that it will always be just sex to him and never beyond that.
But I also think that we are more. We might not live together or be romantic in ways other people understand, but we’re both so messed up that this is enough for us. We don’t make sense to others, but we make sense to each other, and that’s all that matters.
“Let’s get drunk,” he says.
So we both stand up. He grabs two beers from the fridge, and we take them to the roof of the boat, where there’s a small balcony and a beautiful view of the city. It’s not what we had planned for tonight, but seeing as how that was an immediate disaster, this might actually be better.
Neither of us speak for a while, but finally, I find the nerve to say something first. “I came out to my parents.”
Declan gapes at me in surprise. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug. “Because it was nothing.”
“Horse shite. It wasn’t nothing.”
“They treated it like it was nothing. They weren’t offended or surprised or happy. They both just nodded their heads, and it was really uncomfortable until my father brought up something else.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” he says.
“Maybe that’s why I’m such a people pleaser,” I say with a laugh. “My parents raised me to never make a sound. Not a single peep.”
“Fuck that,” he mutters, taking a pull from the bottle. “We’re going out to celebrate, because it most certainly is not nothing.”
As I lift my beer to my lips, I feel a smile tug at the corners because I realize that Declan has been teaching me to cause waves and make noise since I met him six years ago. He’s been slowly healing me this entire time.