Chapter 7
“Have you found somewhere to stay?” I watch him closely. I know the tell-tale fidget and looking away. He’s twenty-one, I shouldn’t worry, but the protective side of the Dom in me is never far away. And this man brings him out in spades.
“I’m going to find a B they’ll never turn anyone away. Especially one who grew up in the care system.
“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” He’s bullshitting me.
“Lesson number one, Noah. Do as I tell you.” My voice is low, commanding.
“Yes, sir.” When I see his eyelashes flutter, and he looks up at me through them, I see the submissive I’ve been looking for. Fuck!
“You can call me Saint, Noah. Now, I’m closing up, so take a seat, and I’ll be back with you in five minutes.”
With my station tidy and my stocks topped up, I cash up for the night. I count out the money from Kris, deducting the fee for the tattoo, and put the remainder in an envelope.
“That was a huge tip. Does that happen often?” Noah voice breaks the silence. I’d forgotten he was here; he was so quiet.
“No, not this much. I’m not keeping it; it will go to my dad’s youth club fund.”
“Is that what happens to all the tips?” I know he’s politely asking if he has to do the same.
“No, your tips are your own to keep. Kris, the client, has paid me enough; I don’t need any more.
” I carry on clearing the till, collecting the card receipts.
After another glance around the studio, I give Noah a look; he’s sitting so patiently, serenely even.
He’s got to be a submissive. “Let’s go, Noah. ”
I let him pass me at the door, then step behind him, switch on the alarm, and then close and lock the door.
“My car is this way.” We walk side by side down the alleyway to the side of my building.
I live above the studio. Lewis left me more than the business, he left me everything, including the building.
He had lived in the flat above, only using one of the two floors above the shop.
I refurbished and refitted the whole two floors and now had a New York loft-style home.
I loved it, especially the playroom I have on the top floor.
My truck is parked at the back of the building, it’s all logo’d up with the studio name across it in silver and black. My brothers laugh at me, calling it my cowboy truck, but I love it, and I’m over six feet tall, and it has the headroom for me.
“Wow! This is awesome. Did you paint it?” Noah’s fingertips trace the wording. His fingers are long and slim and look so soft; I want to feel them on me. Crap, Saint, get that thought out of your head. He’s not some twink at the club; he’s here to work for you. To learn.
“I did the design, then a friend of mine sprayed it. It’s cool, isn’t it?”
“So cool.”
I move past him to open the passenger door for him, he clambers up and settles in the seat. I shut the door and jog to my side.
Noah stops staring out of the side window and turns to me. “I’m not sure this is a good idea, Saint. Where are you taking me?”
“It’s fine, and we’re going to my dads’. They’d be angry with me if I let a new colleague stay in a bed and breakfast.”
“Oh… Okay.”
He looks back out of the window, and when I glance across, he’s biting his thumb nail. I reach over and catch his wrist and gently pull his hand away. “Don’t bite your nails.”
“Sorry. I know it’s a bad habit. I only do it when I’m nervous. And you’re a really big thing.”
I chuckle. “Flattery will get you into trouble, boy.”
I turn the corner onto the street I grew up in. I don’t think of my life with my waste of space, sperm donor as part of me anymore. How and who I am is down to the two men that love me the way fathers should. “We’re here.”
Colour drains from his face as he reaches for the handle. I hear him muttering, “I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s not a good idea.”
“Hey, Noah, you don’t have to stay, just come in and have some dinner. Afterwards, if you still want to leave, I’ll take you to a hotel, on me. Okay?”
I wait for his answer, but all I get is a nod. “Come on then.”
As soon as I open the front door, my Pops comes out of the living room. “Saint, this is a lovely surprise.”
“I’ve brought someone to meet you; he’s going to be working with me.”
My dad comes out and stands behind Pops. “Well, move out of the way then, son, and let him in.”
I step aside, and Noah looks at me, then at my dads. “Um, hi. I’m Noah.”
Pops smiles at him warmly. “Hi, Noah, I’m Robin, and that great hulk is my husband, Kip.”
My dad takes one look at him then at me.
I see the gleam in his eye as he recognises just why I’ve brought him into the fold.
He knows this guy is my type. Our dads have always been open about sex and sexuality, teaching us that if it’s what all persons involved want, then there’s no shame.
They share a Dom/sub relationship when they visit their club.
So, when I knew that was the type of relationship I wanted, my dad introduced me to the right people.
“Welcome to our home, Noah.” He reached forward to shake Noah’s hand, and I wanted to growl and grab him away.
But, nope, that isn’t what this is about.
It’s not like I’m introducing a boyfriend, he’s a guy I’ve said half a dozen sentences to.
I’m giving him a job on his tattooing skills, not the fact that he’s my perfect boy.
Pops shakes his hand too. He gives me a raised eyebrow as a silent what are you playing at question.
“What’s for dinner, Pops?” I need to get back onto normal ground. “I promised Noah, you’d feed us.”
“You’re in luck. I’m making one of my vats of chili. I was going to freeze some for emergency dinners when guests just turn up without calling first.” I get a glare this time, but his eyes are sparkling. He’s enjoying making me squirm.
“I’m sorry to put you to any trouble, I told Saint I didn’t need to come.” Noah’s timid voice stops me from my jokey comment back to my dad.
“Nonsense, it’s lovely to meet you. Come on into the kitchen. I’m sure you’d like a drink.” He links his arm through Noah’s and leads him away.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Dad asks.
“There’s not much to tell. He turned up at the studio and asked for a job.”
“Is he any good?” Dad crosses his arms over his formidable chest.
“Looking through his portfolio, he’s amazing. He’ll be on a trial for a month. I’m excited to see how he works. I need help, Dad. I’m snowed under and exhausted. I’m still catching up on Lewis’s clients.”
“And is that the only reason you’ve brought him here?”
“He’s got nowhere to stay. He’s come down specifically to work for me. He grew up in children’s homes and has no one.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Have you checked out any of the places he worked? Is he for real, do you know anything more about him? And also, my son, that kid is totally your type, can you keep work and pleasure separate?”
“I’ll have to.”