A Dom and His Warrior

They followed the happily bouncing Collin into the huge villa where he and his Dom, Martin Carmichael, co-owner of Club Whisper, lived. Leeland made sure Emilio stayed close to his side. The pretty sub with the dark eyes and sinful lips seemed hesitant, which Leeland could relate to. Martin’s house was huge, the immense wealth of its owner displayed in every little detail, from the polished antique-brass knobs on the doors to the gleaming hardwood floors and sparsely displayed trinkets that screamed money. And that was only the hall. The only thing that dimmed the intimidating feeling a bit were the sketchbooks, brushes, crayons, and pencils scattered around. Leeland knew Martin wanted Collin to keep his art in the conservatory that was his atelier, but it was an impossible demand. Collin worked wherever the muse struck him, and if it happened to be the hall, then he started sketching there, usually forgetting about tidying up afterward. They all had learned to walk carefully in Collin’s home. Slipping on a pencil was not funny. On their way to where the others were, they passed a wall that had been blank the last time Leeland had visited. Now it sported a huge sketch of a naked man with half-spread wings, a collar around his neck, and a chain in his hands. The end of the chain was drawn in a way that it turned into a flock of butterflies flying along the wall. There wasn’t any color yet, but the drawing was already mesmerizing.

“This is beautiful, Collin.”

Collin stopped and looked at the wall with his head tilted to the right.

“I know. We were just back from Whisper a few days ago, and when Martin opened the door, I saw some moths dancing in the light above the entrance, and it struck me how much wings are connected to subs, and how important it is to fly, and how the chains really help us, how it all transcends, and I couldn’t stop drawing, and I already know what colors I need, and I’m so glad Martin said it was okay to use the wall, because it just has to be here, and I can’t imagine it being on canvas for some reason, though I need to get some real chains to work into it.”

Leeland smiled. It was cute how excited Collin became whenever he talked about his work. It was also refreshing to spend time with somebody who had such a unique view of the world.

Now Collin led them into the living room, where Dean, Richard’s husband, Peyton, Dean’s friend and interior design genius, and Curtis, gallery owner and Collin’s agent, were lounging on the two gigantic cream-colored sofas dominating the room.

“Look who’s here!”

Peyton jumped up from where he was seated to hug first Leeland, then Emilio. Dean and Curtis followed his example. From the corner of his eye, Leeland watched as Dean embraced Emilio. The young man stiffened for a moment before he relaxed. When Dean’s parents had tried to take his niece—now daughter—Emily away from him almost a year ago, they had hired a PI to find incriminating proof that they weren’t able to take care of a baby. Because the security at Whisper was too tight for an outsider to just walk in, the PI threatened Emilio and forced him to take pictures of Dean and Richard in their leathers at Whisper. Emilio had been smart enough not to photograph anything explicitly sexual, figuring the pictures would then be worthless, which was the reason Richard and Martin hadn’t fired him from his job at Whisper. He had received his punishment but was still a bit wary around Dean, as if he couldn’t believe the writer had truly forgiven him. Leeland smiled. Dean was a generous man who had welcomed Emilio with open arms into their little gang of subs.

The doorbell rang, causing Collin to race outside again.

“The food!”

Only a few moments later, two men carried huge warming boxes with the logo of Mamma’s on the side into the living room. The enticing smell made Leeland’s mouth water. Curtis inhaled deeply, then furrowed his brows.

“Shouldn’t we take this into the kitchen?”

Collin looked confused. “Why?”

“Because this is the living room, not the dining room?” Curtis gave the impression that he was trying to hold back a laugh.

Still, Collin didn’t seem to understand. “We don’t eat here?”

Dean slung an arm around Collin’s waist. “It’s your house, sweetie. We eat wherever you want. Mr. Gentleman over there just doesn’t know you can eat in the living room. It’s an alien concept to him.”

Dean threw Curtis a mischievous smile, one the older man answered very maturely by sticking out his tongue.

Collin’s eyes had become huge. “You don’t eat in the living room?”

Curtis grinned. “As Dean said, this is your house. We eat where you want. I was merely—surprised by your choice of location.”

Collin sighed in relief.

“I think it’s nice to eat here. The couch is very comfortable. Peyton chose it. And today we don’t have to worry about Dog stealing everything from our plates because Martin has taken him over to Richard’s on a play date with Donar and Thor and Wilma and Fred, although he might be a bit disappointed because Dean said Emily is already asleep and Dog loves to play with her as well.”