Chapter Sixteen
Torin
Torin stood at the folding table in the laundry room, smoothing out the fresh linen with practiced motions. The warmth of the fabric from the dryer was comforting, a simple task that required no overthinking—just fold, stack, repeat. Across from him, Sam worked in silence for a while, his fingers moving a little too fast, gripping the sheets a little too tightly.
“So,” Sam finally said, his voice casual but edged with curiosity. “Are you and Garett together now?”
Torin hesitated, his hands pausing on a pillowcase before he forced himself to keep folding. “Yeah,” he admitted, keeping his voice neutral. “We’re together, I guess.”
Sam frowned. “You guess?”
Torin sighed. “I mean, he’s a Dom. I don’t know much about that lifestyle yet.”
Sam’s expression darkened. “Then maybe you should think twice,” he blurted. “It’s not all fun and games, Torin. It’s not just some romantic thing. Doms expect control. They demand obedience. You don’t seem like the type who’d enjoy that.”
Torin glanced at him, feeling a strange knot twist in his stomach. “I don’t know what I like,” he admitted. “I’ve never been in anything like this before.”
Sam snorted. “Then you definitely shouldn’t be with Garett.” He threw a folded towel onto the pile with more force than necessary. “He’s strict. Demanding. He’ll expect you to fall in line, and if you don’t, things will get ugly.”
Torin frowned. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”
“I’m making it real,” Sam snapped. His jaw tightened, and for a second, Torin swore he saw something almost like jealousy flicker in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. I don’t want Garett to hurt you in ways you can’t imagine.”
Torin wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew Sam had been around this scene longer than him, but something about the way he talked about Garett didn’t sit right.
“Tell me, how could Garett hurt me?”
“He could stick an instrument down your piss hole.”
“What?”
“He could make you drink his piss.”
“He would never do that. He’s a clean freak.” For sure, Sam was making up things to scare him enough to leave Garett. Eventually, when he got the nerve up, he would ask Garett about those things. How could Sam know?
“I didn’t say he’d drink your piss. Oh yes, he would make you. He likes to humiliate his subs at Cowpokes.”
“I don’t believe that shit about Garett.” Torin eyed Sam skeptically, unsure if his claims were fact or fantasy, the words hanging heavy in the air. He needed to understand the intricacies of that lifestyle, to delve into its daily routines and unique perspectives. He would look it up on his laptop when he gets a chance. He did not know if Sam was trying to break them up so he could have a shot at Garett as his Dom.
“Believe it.”
“Are you a bottom sub?” Torin changed the subject to Sam, away from Garett.
Sam laughed hysterically at him. “You’re going to find yourself in a whole lot of pain one day.”
“Fuck you!”
Before he could press Sam further on the details of his alleged pain, the sharp squeak of the door hinge announced its opening.
Garett stepped inside, his eyes sharp, darting between them, taking in every detail of the room’s hushed atmosphere. “What are you two shouting about?” His tone was casual, but there was an underlying authority that made Torin’s stomach flip.
Torin quickly busied himself with another sheet, not meeting his gaze. “Nothing,” he muttered.
Sam crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “Just laundry.”
Garett obviously wasn’t buying it. His eyes lingered on them both for a long moment before he stepped forward, setting a hand on Torin’s lower back in a way that made it clear—whatever was going on between them, Torin was his.
“Finish up soon,” Garett said, his voice softer now, but still firm. “I need you with me.”
“Me?” Sam asked.
“No. I need to take Torin somewhere.”
Torin only nodded, acutely aware of the way Sam’s jaw clenched at those words.
After Torin and Sam finished up, Torin left the guest house with Garett and returned home. Once they were inside, Garett led them to the kitchen.
“Let’s have a soda and relax for a while,” Garett suggested.
“Is everyone a Dom or sub around here?” Torin pulled two bottles of soda from the refrigerator and set them on the table.
“Lots are, but not all of them.” Garett twisted the bottle cap.
“Does Sam go to Cowpokes?” Torin asked as he moved his hair away from his eyes and took a seat with his drink.
“Yes, he does. Why didn’t you ask him?” Garett adjusted his cowboy hat.
“I don’t know if he’d tell me the truth or not. Did you ever play in a private room with him?” A gnawing curiosity prompted Torin to inquire about Garett and Sam’s relationship or lack of one. Torin sensed something was up between Sam and Garett. Sam thought Garett was going to take him somewhere after work. Did Garett often hang out with him after work before Torin got there? He was determined to uncover the truth about them, no matter the cost.
“No. I don’t play with those I work with.” Garett slowly sipped his ice-cold drink, the condensation clinging to the can, as he watched Torin.
“But we work together, or did I imagine last night?” Torin’s fingers nervously tracing the edges of the label on his bottle.
“Funny thing is, I don’t remember playing with you in a private room at Cowpokes either.” Garett winked at him. “And you didn’t imagine last night in my bed.”
“Is that because we work together or because I didn’t ask or because you don’t want to play with me in one of those private rooms?”
“Any time you want to play in a private room at Cowpokes or anywhere else, ask me. Remember, you told me you’re not my sub.” He pulled his hat down further, hiding his expression.
“I might like to try something in there.” The very words he had spoken frightened him, but were needed to be heard by both of them. Torin vowed to himself he would do what he had to keep others from his lover.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I saw a guy there that had a bandana over his eyes.”
“Then what, sexy boy?” Garett leaned across the table and kissed Torin’s hand.
“I don’t know what else.” A wave of self-doubt washed over Torin, a burning humiliation, but he refused to give Sam or Cherry an edge with his Garett.
“How about I send you five links to five different scenes and then you can tell me which one you want to try? You can customize it to your liking. I’ll take you any night when I’m not working there. I’d be proud to have fun with you in a private room.”
“Thanks. My email is my name, all lowercase, at gmail.com.” Torin wanted to be treated as well as Garett’s last subs. He would like to try this BDSM lifestyle, but he didn’t want to dig too deeply into it unless he felt comfortable. For some reason, he wanted to have something going on in that private room so for one, that Cherry would stay away from Garett. Torin wanted everyone at Cowpokes to know he was with Garett.
“Change into something comfortable. We’re going to ride dirt bikes.”
Torin raced up the stairs, changed into a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt.