Page 63 of Leather and Longing
Because beneath the blunt talk about sex and boxes of toys and rules of consent, something had shifted. Adam hadn’t slapped down that boundary ofjust sex, nothing more. He’d left it unsaid, hanging between them like a thread.
And Paul didn’t know what that meant.
He pressed his forehead to the doorframe, groaning softly. If he climbed into Adam’s bed tonight, it wouldn’t bejust sexfor him. It hadn’t been for a while now. Adam’s laughter, his stubborn pride, even his black moods—they’d burrowed under Paul’s skin. Sharing a bed would be more than warmth and release.
It would feel like belonging.
But Adam hadn’t asked for that.
Adam isn’t ready for that.
Paul shut the door firmly behind him. He stripped off his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand throughhis hair. His body ached with want, but it was tangled with something deeper, something messier.
It’s better to wait, to let Adam set the pace, to let him decide what lines can be crossed.
Paul could live with frustration. He could live with longing. What hecouldn’tlive with was spooking Adam into retreating behind his walls again.
He lay down in the dark, listening to the music faintly echo through the house. Adam was alone.
But is that what Adam truly wants?
Adam pushed the sheet off his warm body. He could have blamed his insomnia on the heat, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t drive the conversation with Paul from his mind.
As soon as he’d caught the hitch in Paul’s breathing when Adam had steered the talk around to BDSM, he knew that was what Paul had wanted. As if the overheard phone call hadn’t already made it obvious.
The fact Adam was sleeping alone only reinforced what his mind was already telling him.
Paul was all about the kink.
Adam knew he’d done the right thing in keeping the conversation so matter-of-fact. The faint hope had swelled within him that afternoon, when he’d sat there, locked in a moment of intimacy, his fingers gently tracing Paul’s features….
He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want a lover. He wants a Dom.
The thought stopped him dead in his tracks. It hadn’t occurred to Adam up until that moment thathewanted a lover. The Adam Kent he’d been didn’t havelovers—he’d had submissives. Hook-ups.
Was I too clinical? Did I make it sound like one of my contracts?
In all his years in the BDSM community, Adam had never once fallen for a submissive. He’d prided himself on his ability to keep his heart locked up safe.
Heaviness spread through him,pulsedthrough him in a slow, relentless tide.
I’ve never fallen for anyone.
When had there been time for romance? When had he ever madetimefor romance? Certainly not in the military. And not in the years he’d spent crewing boats. At the club he’d been Master Adam, the tough son of a bitch who…
Who’s never been in love.
Fuck, he was so weary of keeping things cool, detached, unemotional.
He could’ve told Paul there wouldn’t be any romantic entanglement. He could’ve said they’d be nothing but fuck buddies.
But I didn’t.
Adam didn’t want to treat Paul like a sub.
He didn’t want to go into this whole situation with the aim ofnotinvolving his heart.
I want it to be more than just sex.
