Part Eight Be There
Be There. (Wear a tie.)
In Scott’s opinion, the last note he’d received from Joe contained three things that he needed to panic about.
Firstly, there was the time of day. Dates with Joe almost always started late at night.
Standing on a street corner and waiting for Joe while it was still daylight simply wasn’t natural.
Robbed of the shadows he’d become used to over the last few weeks, Scott felt exposed and vulnerable in an entirely new way.
He stared down at his shoes for a few moments. When he looked up, he was immediately confronted by the second reason why hyperventilating seemed like a perfectly reasonable reaction—the location.
A street lined with expensive bars and restaurants, and situated in the most fashionable part of the city, wasn’t Scott’s natural habitat. Hell, a polar bear in the Sahara would have had more chance of blending in.
Every expensively dressed person who walked past him seemed to instinctively realise that he didn’t belong there; none of them bothered to hide their disapproval when they stared down their noses at him.
Scott took a deep breath. This wasn’t Joe’s usual part of the city either. Joe belonged in a world full of noisy bar rooms, and leather, and clubs where men did kinky, painful, glorious things to each other.
Tucking two fingers into his shirt collar, Scott tugged at the restrictive fabric. He felt like a schoolboy who’d been forced into his Sunday best to visit his posh relatives; which brought him very neatly to the third problem inherent in Joe’s commands.
Wear a tie.
That was the full extent of the command. Joe hadn’t actually given him permission to wear any other garments. Scott swallowed, his Adam’s apple fighting its way past his shirt collar with great difficulty. He had a nagging suspicion that Joe always intended his orders to be followed precisely.
Scott looked down at his neatly pressed black suit and his well-polished black shoes—neither of which had seen the light of day since his grandfather’s funeral.
If Joe turned up and told him he had to strip off everything but his tie—right there in the middle of a nice polite street, surrounded by couples out on nice polite dates then…
Then Scott had the horrible feeling that he’d do it. He’d probably get slapped by a passer-by, then arrested for indecent exposure. But, God help him, if Joe issued the order, Scott knew he’d do it, and—
“I should have guessed that you’d be here ridiculously early.”
Scott spun around. Joe stood less than a foot away from him. Scott took a clumsy step back. Joe looked…not like Joe at all.
“You’re n-not wearing any leather,” Scott blurted out, as his shock got the better of him.
He pulled his gaze up to Joe’s face just in time to see his lips twist into a smile. Closing his eyes, Scott mentally cursed himself. “I’m s-sorry, I…”
Scott opened his eyes very wide as Joe put his hand over Scott’s mouth and silenced him.
Technically, there was nothing stopping Scott stepping back and regaining the ability to say whatever the hell he wanted. But technicalities didn’t mean a damn thing when Joe was around. Scott’s feet remained rooted to the same spot of pavement.
He stared up at Joe. Even if he hadn’t been gently gagged by Joe’s palm, he wouldn’t have been able to think of anything to say. All he could do was stare.
Joe had shaved. His usual whatever-o’clock shadow was gone. Scott’s hand itched with his desire to stroke his fingertips down Joe’s cheek, just for the novelty of it. He’d never known any part of Joe to be entirely hairless.
Heat rushed to Scott’s face as he thought about just how smooth Joe had ordered him to keep certain parts of his own body. His cock immediately tried to rise. His shaved balls became more sensitive than ever, and he whimpered behind Joe’s hand.
Joe’s smile widened, as if he could read Scott’s mind, and he loved making him squirm.
Scott glanced to his right, then his left. They were still on a public street. No one was staring at them, but that had to be more by luck than by judgement. He turned his attention back toward Joe.
Joe didn’t seem the least unnerved by the possibility of the whole world seeing them getting kinky. A shiver ran down Scott’s spine and immediately spread over every inch of skin on his buttocks.
Joe looked as if he wouldn’t hesitate to turn Scott over his lap and spank him where they stood. Scott’s knees trembled at the prospect, but he couldn’t deny that it also made his cock harder than ever.
Joe took his hand away from Scott’s mouth, but only so he could rub his thumb over the heated skin along Scott’s cheek bone.
“I like making you blush.”
Of course, that only made Scott’s face get hotter than ever.
“I…you said I should w-wear a tie,” Scott blurted out.
“And you’re a very good boy for doing as you’re told.” Joe calmly straightened the knot in his tie.
Scott stared at Joe’s neck. He’d have put money on Joe not even owning a tie, let alone an entire suit, but this evening Joe could easily have passed for an up-market business man. There was no hint of the bartender about him except, maybe, in his eyes. Scott risked a glance up.
Yes, Joe’s eyes still promised that he wasn’t someone who’d back down from anything or anyone—that he was the kind of guy who didn’t merely screw someone, but who took possession of the people he had sex with, body and soul.
Scott shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Even if there was nothing kinky about a man straightening his date’s tie, it was still an intimate thing to be seen doing on the street.
“Are you out to everyone in your life?” Joe suddenly enquired.
Scott frowned, wondering if he had missed an entire segment of the conversation. “Yes.”
“Good, so you can stop looking like you’re ashamed to be seen with me.”
Scott opened his mouth. No words happened. He closed his mouth, then tried again. “I’m n-not ashamed of you! I j-j-just…”
Joe raised an eyebrow. He obviously expected Scott to finish the sentence, so it was a pity that Scott had no idea how to do that.
Scott looked down for a moment. When he lifted his gaze, he squared his shoulders.
“J-just nothing,” he finished. “I’m not ashamed of you and I n-never could be. There’s nothing else to s-s-say.”
Joe nodded. Approval shone in his eyes. “That’s better.
” He tucked a knuckle under Scott’s chin and held him still as he dipped his head and brought their lips together.
The kiss was brief and sweet. Only the way that Joe nipped at Scott’s bottom lip reminded him that, suit or no suit, Joe was still all dom.
When he pulled back, Joe took Scott’s hand in a firm grip and led him across the street toward an expensive looking restaurant.
Scott was more than willing to follow Joe wherever he wanted to go, but he couldn’t help but let out a mental sigh as he took in a few more details of their destination.
It was one of those places where he couldn’t afford anything on the menu, and while his credit card could probably help him disguise that fact, it wouldn’t be any help in finding something that looked both recognisable and edible.
It was going to be all frogs’ legs and fish spawn. His stomach turned over at the thought
Forcing a smile onto his lips, determined to keep it there no matter what, Scott stepped into the restaurant at Joe’s side.
“We have a reservation for two under the name Joseph Stuart,” Joe said briskly.
A snooty looking ma?tre d’ ran a manicured fingertip down a list of bookings propped up on a small podium just inside the entrance. “Yes, indeed. Mr Stuart.” He made a quick notation on the list. “If you’ll follow me.”
He hurried them toward a small table tucked away in the furthest corner of the restaurant, as if he wanted to make sure as few people as possible noticed the presence of two working class gay guys in his establishment.
Joe pulled Scott’s chair out before Scott had a chance to do it himself. He knew he should protest at being treated like a girl, but he couldn’t seem to bring the words to his lips—being fussed over by Joe felt too good. Even as he blushed, Scott felt his smile become more genuine.
Joe didn’t speak as he took the seat opposite Scott. Menus handed over, the ma?tre d’ strode away. Scott had hoped that the friendly, if rather sexually charged, atmosphere that had extended over their previous dates would return now that they were alone, but it didn’t.
Joe looked just as tense as Scott felt. His shoulder muscles were all bunched up beneath his jacket. Scott cleared his throat and he tore his gaze away from Joe’s body before he made himself even more flustered. He opened the menu and peered at the starters on the first page.
“Do you see anything you like?” Joe asked after a few moments.
Scott took a deep breath. He didn’t see a damn thing that he’d willingly pick for himself. When inspiration struck, it was manna from heaven. Joe liked making his decisions for him, didn’t he?
“M-maybe you should o-order for both of us?”
Their gazes met across the table.
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to ask you a question. Don’t think about the answer, just tell me the first thing that comes into your head.”
Scott nodded his willingness to obey that order.
“What’s your all-time favourite meal?”
Scott couldn’t help but follow Joe’s command. He didn’t think before his lips started moving. “Hamburger meal from McDonalds.” He cursed himself the moment the words hit the air. “But I l-like this kind of food too,” he rushed to add.
Joe stared straight into Scott’s eyes for several seconds. Then he nodded, just once, as if making a decision. Standing up, Joe held out his hand to Scott.
Pure instinct made Scott place his hand in Joe’s palm. Joe pulled him unceremoniously to his feet. Scott had little choice but to try to keep up with Joe as Joe strode across the restaurant, still holding onto Scott’s hand.