Chapter Thirty-One
Torin
The living room was warm and inviting, the soft glow of the table lamps casting a golden hue over the space. Torin stared at the painted muted beige on the walls, adorned with a few framed photographs of the ranch and its landscapes. He stretched out on the large, comfortable couch in the center of the room, its cushions slightly worn but cozy, flanked by two armchairs and a rustic wooden coffee table. The fireplace was dark for now, but the scent of wood smoke still lingered in the air. He hoped someday Garett would make a fire for them.
Liam’s visit had been a whirlwind, and Torin couldn’t stop replaying the conversations in his head. But there was something else nagging at him, something he hadn’t been able to shake since his talk with Henry. The mention of Manny and the private rooms at the club had sparked curiosity in him, one he wasn’t sure how to address. Then he remembered Henry said not to ask Garett about his last sub or say his name around him. How was he supposed to keep up with someone like Garett? His confidence and experience in the BDSM world were evident in his assured movements and knowing glances. Torin didn’t even know where to start.
Garett walked into the room and snuggled on the couch with him. He looked relaxed, but Torin could see the thoughtful expression on his face, the way his eyes seemed to process everything that had happened that day.
“What did you think of Liam?” Torin asked finally, breaking the comfortable silence. “And…the meeting with Dante?”
Garett turned to him, his expression softening. “Your brother is the perfect virtuous man. I don’t think he has any anger or hate in him. Overly protective, but fair. I respect that.”
“He never got angry with me. Not once did I hear him say he wished he wasn’t responsible for me. He was always my protector, my rock. No matter what kind of trouble I got into, he was there to bail me out. But he always made sure I understood the lesson so I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He never just let me off the hook—he made sure I learned.”
“He’s a strong positive role model for you and he did a fantastic job raising you. I told him that too.”
“Thanks, that really means a lot to me. I’m nothing like him. He’s so perfect and never messes up. He told me he learned good values from our parents, but I only had them for seven years. They didn’t have the same lasting influence on me as they did on him. Still, he did his best to pass on what they taught him.”
“Let’s have a glass of wine,” Garett suggested.
“Sounds good to me.”
Garett poured two glasses and gave one to him. They enjoyed their wine in silence, then set them on the coffee table. Garett didn’t drink much at all, unlike Byron. They were total opposites in many aspects.
Garett settled beside Torin, their bodies naturally gravitating towards one another. The living room was quiet, the soft hum of the ceiling fan the only sound breaking the silence. Garett’s arm wrapped around Torin’s shoulders, pulling him close, and Torin leaned into the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of Garett’s breathing. It was moments like these that made Torin feel safe, cherished, like he belonged somewhere—with someone. But even as he relaxed into Garett’s embrace, a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind, one he couldn’t quite shake.
Garett broke the silence, his voice soft but firm. “You’re special to me, Torin. You know that, right? I never want you to go back to New York. I want you here, with me. You can go to the university near us.”
Torin’s chest tightened, a mix of warmth and unease swirling inside him. He turned his head to look at Garett, his eyes searching for the older man’s face for reassurance. “I want to be here too,” he whispered. “With you. But…sometimes I wonder if I’m enough. If I can ever be what you need.”
Garett’s brow furrowed, his hand coming up to cup Torin’s cheek. “What are you talking about? You’re more than enough, Torin. You’re everything I need.”
Torin’s gaze dropped, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of Garett’s shirt. “I just…I know I’m not like all your ex-subs. I don’t know how to be what you’re used to. I don’t know if I can ever measure up to them.”
“Let’s give us the year to work on us, then decide if this is what you want…with me…in Montana. After a year, you might want to go back to New York.”
“I guess I’ll have to give us that time at least.”
“No. You have to live in my house and work for me. The choice of being with me is not expected. That is up to you. If you don’t want me to love you, I stop if there is no consent.”
“I want you in every possible way.”
“You say that now, but let’s see how you feel about me in a year.”
Torin nodded.
The missing name hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken out of fear. Torin hadn’t meant to bring up Garett’s ex-subs, but the words tumbled out before he could stop them. At least, he didn’t use the name Manny in his presence. He’d been curious about Manny since his conversation with Henry, wondering what he was like, how he’d earned Garett’s trust and affection. But every time he thought about asking, fear stopped him. Fear that he’d hear something he didn’t want to know. Fear that he’d never be able to compete.
Garett was silent for a moment, his thumb brushing gently against Torin’s cheek. “Torin,” he said finally, his voice steady but soft, “I didn’t have that many ex-subs. They were a part of my life, but they’re not you. You don’t have to measure up to anyone. What I have with you…it’s different. It’s real. And it’s everything I want.”
Torin’s eyes moved up to meet Garett’s, his heart pounding in his chest. “But what if I’m not good enough? What if I can’t be what you need?”
Garett shook his head, his expression firm. “You already are, Torin. You’re not my last sub, which was five years ago, and I don’t want you to be him. I want you. Just as you are.”
Torin felt a lump rise in his throat, his emotions threatening to spill over. He wanted to believe Garett, to trust he was enough, but the doubt still lingered, a shadow he couldn’t quite shake. “I just…I don’t want to disappoint you.” This was the first time he admitted to having a sub five years ago. Though he didn’t use his name.
Garett leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Torin’s forehead. “You could never disappoint me, Torin. Not unless you stop being yourself. And that’s the last thing I want.”
Torin’s chest ached with the weight of Garett’s words, the sincerity in his voice breaking through the wall of doubt he’d built around himself. He wanted to say more, to ask about Manny, to understand what had made him so special to Garett. But the fear of what he might hear kept him silent. Instead, he leaned into Garett, letting the older man’s warmth and presence soothe the storm inside him.
Garett seemed to sense Torin’s inner turmoil, but he didn’t push. Instead, he pulled Torin closer, his hand resting on the back of Torin’s neck as he pressed another kiss to his temple. “You’re mine, Torin,” he murmured. “And I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”
Torin kissed Garett.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Anything you want to know, ask me.”
“Are you’re saying you haven’t had a sub in five years?”
“No. I don’t want to confuse you. I played with subs at Cowpokes all the time, but didn’t collar them as my sub.”
“Does that mean you’ve been a Dom without a collared sub for five years?”
“I guess so.”
“Are you looking for a sub to collar?”
“I haven’t been looking, but if the beautiful man named Torin ever wants to be my sub, then yes, I would want to collar a sub. Until then, I’m not looking for one, nor do I intend to play with anyone else.”
Torin nodded, his eyes closing as he let himself sink into the moment. For now, that was enough. The questions, the doubts, the fear—they could wait. Right now, all he wanted was to be here, in Garett’s arms, where he felt safe and loved.
Later, when they went upstairs to their room, Torin’s mind was still racing, but he pushed the thoughts aside. Garett’s words echoed in his head, a quiet reassurance that he was enough, that he didn’t have to be anyone but himself. And for the first time in a long time, Torin allowed himself to believe it.