Page 3 of Piece Us Together

Not wanting him to have to be anxious any longer, I go retrieve him. I have my go-to calming smile on my face, the one I reserve for shy and skittish subs, but it becomes a little hard to maintain when his eyes finally lock with mine. There’s so much going on in that head of his, all broadcasted in the shades of blue. Fuck, the poor man is drowning in emotions and worries.

I don’t know what exactly he needs from me yet, but at this moment, I already know I’m going to give it to him.

“Maison,” I say, my tone soft but firm. “I’m glad you made it. I have a booth. Come.”

Surprisingly, the man follows without so much as a frown at being given an order. With how prickly he got at the store yesterday with hisjust friendscomment, I had assumed he’d want to draw an immediate line. Maybe once he has a beer and takes a few deep breaths he’ll remember he doesn’t want to give me any leeway.Or maybe the boy-next-door was lying to me last night.

A server appears out of nowhere, asking Maison what he’d like to eat. He doesn’t even bother to look at her as he mumbles, “I’ll have an IPA. Whatever’s on tap.”

If I was his dominant, I’d be extremely unimpressed with the lack of manners. Since I’m not, I swallow any comment I may have with a mouthful of my beer.

He doesn’t seem to be willing to start the conversation, his eyes glued to the coaster between his hands. I decide to take a little weight off his shoulders by going first. It’s the least I can do when the man is sitting there looking like I’m about to sentence him to death. “I know Carter and Travis are new to this area. Are you as well?”

“Yeah.”

I pause, waiting for more. He just continues to stare down. I think his leg is bouncing beneath the table. “Where are you from originally?”

He shifts in his seat, lifting his gaze just enough to scan our surroundings while still avoiding looking at me. “Here and there.”

“You moved around a lot growing up?”

“Not growing up, but as an adult. I’m—” He pauses, grabbing at his messy hair again. “I was in the military for a while.”

That tracks. It accounts for the way he seems to hold himself, as well as his hypervigilance right now regarding his surroundings. It also has the night he barged in on me with a gun making a little more sense. I had actually started to wonder recently if Travis was ex-military or ex-law enforcement.Maybe they served together?

“Thank you for your service,” I say, knowing it’s the right thing regardless of the questions I have surrounding him and his circumstances.

He visibly flinches, his hands curling into fists on the table. His knuckles are bruised. There are little scars among the darker coloring, bright white slashes like they’ve been cut open a few too many times. “Don’t.”

“Don’t thank you for your service?” I ask with a frown.

“No.” He lifts his eyes, showing me a glimpse of the kind of pain I’ve only seen once before—in his brother, the night he broke down on my living room floor. “Please.”

I nod. “Okay.”

The server arrives with his beer, placing it on the coaster between his fists. He at least grunts a “thank you” before lifting the glass and draining half of it in a single go. I raise my eyebrow, not concerned with hiding my thoughts in my expression. He’s no longer looking at me anyway.

“Shall we dive right in then?” I ask him after another minute of tense silence.

“Sure.” He clears his throat. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You said you need my help.” I rest my forearms on the table and lean forward. His eyes immediately lock on my hands. “And from your follow-up question, I’m assuming that help is in my capacity as a dom.”

He nods.

“Joking and sexual innuendos aside, are you a sub looking for a dom?”

“No. I—no.” He tears his gaze away from my hands and finishes his beer. Then he stares down at the empty glass for a long time. I’m considering what else to ask him when he finally says, “My boyfriend is the sub looking for a dom.”

Oh.

I’m not sure what I feel at this moment. Disappointment, maybe. Intrigue, definitely. Maybe a spark of anticipation.Will I at least get to watch this beautiful specimen in action? Does he want to watch me and his boyfriend together? Are they looking for a third?Something stirs at the thought of that last one. I’m sure whoever this man is dating is just as beautiful as he is. Maybe I’m disappointed that Maison isn’t here for me to become his dom, but there are plenty of other options that could be equally as exciting. Maybe even more so.

“What do you want from me?” I ask him, deciding it’s better to just ask instead of sit here wondering. When Maison just shakes his head, I try to give him a nudge by bringing up the most likely option. “Are you hoping I’ll train you to be a dom?”

That’s not rare in the community. Doms do it often enough. I’ve only done it once in an official capacity, though I’ve mentored plenty of doms when it comes to particular skills. Someone even did it for me, when I first started out. An older gentleman in California, during my time at college. He was specifically interested in ropework and rigging, and his best friend was a wizard with a flogger. The two of them built me intothe dom I am today. Well, mostly, anyway. I’ve definitely picked up a few of my own things along the way.

“No,” Maison says, his voice choked. “I don’t want—no.”

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