Page 3 of Exchange
Chapter Two
Thomas Allen had resigned himself to getting through a miserable evening. The contract with Kelly had ended as of midnight and neither of them had wanted to negotiate another one for many reasons, one of which had become obvious to Thomas tonight. He felt like he’d been played for a fool by Kelly, who’d begged to be his sub. Kelly had claimed he’d been born a sub, but Thomasnow knew that wasn’t the case. Or, if he was, then Thomas hadn’t been the right Dom for him.
Kelly had been fucking with Thomas’ head all night by playing the part of a Dom or a switch—anything but a sub. Even now, Kelly was all over another man, William, who was new to the scene and had been boasting about how much of a Dom he was. Thomas hadn’t cared for him—had thought, in fact, that Williamhad blathered on too much when it was clear he wasn’t strictly a Dom. Whatever the case, it wasn’t Thomas’ business.
Neither is Kelly anymore.He’s free to do whatever, and whoever, he wants.
And Kelly was making sure everyone in the club was aware of it, too. Whether the situation warranted it or not, Thomas felt like he’d screwed up as a Dom. He kept thinking that he should have known Kellywasn’t a complete sub, or that he was questioning…everything. Thomas had read so many stories about Doms who automatically knew what their subs thought and needed. The reality of being a Dom wasn’t that simple and he had learned that communication was the key.
Thomas rubbed his temples. To be truthful, he’d figured out the importance of communication long before tonight, but Kelly hadn’t beenwilling to participate. He’d said that Thomas shouldknowwhat he needed, should be intuitive to Kelly’s thoughts.
No, Thomas couldn’t read Kelly’s mind, that was for certain, and he’d only had Kelly’s words and reactions to go by. Those two things had been contradictory at times, and with Kelly refusing to explain or expand upon what he wanted, needed and expected, Thomas had been left in thedark in regards to caring for his sub.
One major question kept nagging at Thomas. Why,whyhadn’t he realized how screwed up his relationship with Kelly had been sooner? Their contract was up and Kelly was trying to either hurt him or get his attention—maybe both, judging by the way he was carrying on now. Thomas hated childish games. He didn’t want to be involved in whatever Kelly was doing.
Coming to the club had been a stupid idea, but Thomas had felt thatnotshowing up would imply he was hiding, especially since Kelly had told Thomas he was going to be out celebrating the end of their contract. Maybe Thomas should have stayed home and fretted overevery single thingthat had happened between him and Kelly.
There was one good thing about the relationship with Kelly—at least Thomashadn’t been in love with him, nor had Kelly loved him. They’d had a contract, but not a deep emotional bond. And now Thomas didn’t know why Kelly had ever approached him, considering the show Kelly was putting on tonight.
Or is that the real Kelly? I don’t know if he’s acting now or not. I think that’s what our time together was. Him acting, and me being me.Thomas hadn’t pretended to be someoneor something he wasn’t.
He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn’t stop dwelling on what had happened between them. So much had gone wrong with Kelly, or with Thomas’ idea of who and what Kelly was. In the beginning, he’d hoped for something enduring with Kelly, that their needs would form a bond between them.
Thomas closed his eyes. He needed a man who’d submit to him and mean it. A manwho did it because submission was an inherent part of his nature, not because it was fun to play along with the popular and ‘newly discovered’ world of BDSM.
Thomas would have sat there with his eyes closed for God only knew how long had he not heard someone say, “Let Thomas grab you by yours.” For some reason, even in the noisy club, he had heard those words. He had to stop moping and see whatwas going on.
And what—who—he saw made his blood heat in his veins. Thomas sat up a little straighter as he watched one of the older, more experienced subs making his way over.
The man was long-limbed, more sharp elbows and knees than muscles. He had an arresting face. Not what most people could consider handsome,more impish, maybe, like it wouldn’t have been a surprise to discover he had pointedears.
Thomas would have scoffed at his own description, but it fit. The way the approaching sub’s eyes shone, the slight upward curve of his full lips, all lent him a fae air. Thomas knew his name, too.
Hank Evans. Jesus!He knew that name well, because he’d kind of had a thing for Hank since he’d first seen him submitting in a scene, on stage, for another Dom.
But they’d never been availableat the same time, what with Thomas being with Kelly and Hank having had a few different Doms. Now, however, they were both free to interact in whatever way suited them.
Something hot and hungry came alive in him as he watched Hank.
Hank held his head up but didn’t look Thomas in the eyes. Thomas could tell that it was difficult for Hank to approach him, and he appreciated the struggle playingout over Hank’s features the closer he came.
Thomas’ bruised confidence and his kicked ego didn’t throb quite as badly as before.
Hank was wearing a miniscule white thong of such thin material that Thomas could see the slit of his cock through it. He also had on white leather chaps.
White leather, white thong—That was one of the reasons Hank always stood out in the club. Hank had never beenseen wearing black. He wore white, all the time, even if it was only a pair of shorts or a tank top…or a jockstrap.
The color shouldn’t have worked so well with Hank’s pale skin, but it did. Thomas wondered if Hank had ever been outside without wearing sunscreen. Under the dim lights of the club, Hank seemed to glow in a way that no one else did.
Thomas’ cock began to harden as he imagined layingdown stripes on Hank’s back and buttocks. He’d show marks to perfection, especially if Thomas used a cane.
Hank stopped three feet away, then lowered himself to his knees. He bowed his head, settling into the perfect posture that every sub should exhibit when offering him or herself to a Dom. At least, that was what Thomas wanted to see when a sub knelt forhim.
Thomas waited, letting the silencedraw out between them. The noise of the club ceased to matter. Thomas wasn’t hearing it. What was important in that moment was all the possibilities opening up for the night.
Hank remained still, barely breathing, it seemed. His pulse fluttered at the base of his neck. He didn’t fidget or huff in agitation. He was patient, awaiting Thomas’ word.
Thomas approved—very much so. He thought perhapshe’d been a fool for taking on a sub who was pretty enough to be a model, but whom Thomas hadn’t bothered to get to know before signing a contract.
