Chapter Two

Michael

I glanced at the bar, giving the boy working there as a bartender another appreciative glance. He was young—probably too young for me—with a gorgeous body and amazing brown eyes. His dark hair kept falling over his face and I had the strangest urge to brush it back for him and tuck it behind his ear.

My friend Dave came up behind me and clapped me on the shoulder. "See something you like?"

"Me and probably half the men here at the party," I said, smiling at my friend. "What's his name?"

"Cruz. He's a friend of Billy's—works as a bartender with him at Gio's."

"Mmm…" I said, noncommittally, taking another sip of my drink.

"Don't pretend, Michael. He's just your type, isn't he?"

I quirked up an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware I had a type ."

"Dark hair and eyes, smooth, hairless chest and a six-pack? Ring any bells?"

"More like an eight-pack with that one. Which means he must work out constantly, and he probably shaves his chest, because he has a trail of dark hair leading downward to more interesting places.

"Don't change the subject. Are you interested?"

"In fucking him? Of course. Like I said, me and half the other men here tonight. But he looks like one of those straight boys who bats his eyelashes and flirts his way through a party like this for tips. Then goes home to his little girlfriend."

David laughed. "Actually, he's gay. I already asked Billy about him. He's twenty-one, unattached and, according to Billy, a really nice guy. However, also according to Billy, he's not at all into kink or pain of any kind."

I smiled, looked him over again and winked at my friend. "That could mean he just hasn't met the right Dom yet."

David smiled. "Look, when things start to wind down tonight, I've asked a few of the guys to stay behind for a private game. High stakes poker. Are you in? Billy and Cruz will be staying to serve us drinks and snacks. Maybe you can get a chance to talk to him."

I cast another glance at the boy behind the bar. He was being kept busy by a crowd of men standing around ordering drinks with silly names and flirting outrageously with him. He looked hot, stressed and altogether delicious.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

****

Cruz

I was exhausted and I'd just learned the evening wasn't over yet. It was a little past eleven o'clock and though the party/meeting was breaking up, and most of the guests had left to go home, there were still four guys in the dining room, along with David, setting up for a poker game. One of them was the handsome man I'd been noticing all evening whenever I'd had the chance.

He was devastatingly good-looking, and maybe in his early thirties or so. Taller than me, and even more muscular and well built. There was something about him that made me nervous and unsettled whenever I looked at him. I had caught the man's intense gaze on me several times during the evening. Each time he'd noticed me looking, though, he'd slid his eyes away, looking bored. His eyes were gorgeous—those pale, icy blue eyes seen sometimes in wolves and other predators.

David had finally let Billy come out of the bedroom to join the party, looking contrite and downcast. I suspected he'd received a spanking, which made me feel funny inside. I grinned, though, knowing that with Billy it was probably mostly an act. I was pretty sure David wasn't fooled either. Billy came over to me, walking stiffly. I wondered again if David had spanked him in the bedroom the way it had sounded at one point.

"Hi, Cruz. David wants us to serve them while they play cards. Are you okay with that?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I can serve the drinks and you can pass around the tray of hors d'oeuvres, if you like."

"Okay." Billy leaned close to whisper in my ear. "These guys are all very serious about their poker games. Just try to stay quiet and out of their way."

"No problem there. I don't know a damn thing about poker," I said quietly and could barely suppress another grin. I hoped Billy could take his own advice—he loved to be the center of attention. At Gio's he'd gotten me to teach him some flair techniques to use at the bar. Flair bartending included some juggling, some flipping bottles and even occasionally manipulating flaming liquors, and I loved it the minute I'd ever noticed other bartenders practicing it.

Billy loved the attention he got from the patrons once he'd learned to do it. I had to admit, I liked that too, because the extra tips were well worth it. The managers loved it, too, until they figured out customers were so fascinated by our flairing that they forgot to keep ordering drinks. Now we were only allowed to flair when we were having a slow night.

The five men were at the table and one of them began to deal the cards. I glanced at the gray-eyed man I'd been noticing all evening and Billy caught the look. "I saw that," Billy said, sidling up to whisper in my ear. "You're looking at Michael Bradley, aren't you? Not that I blame you—he's the hottest thing at this party tonight—except for my Master, of course. But he's not for you. Don't get involved with him."

"Is he…"

"A Dom? All the best-looking ones are, honey. Well, in my opinion, anyway. But he's also a sadist. Not right for you at all."

"Oh really?" I whispered back. "You enjoyed your spanking, didn't you?"

Billy smiled roguishly back at me and winked. "Don't knock it till you've tried it, baby. But a little spanking is nothing compared to what kind of punishment a sadist can dish out."

"Billy, if you can't keep your voice down a little, you're going to find out a lot more about punishment," David barked, throwing down his cards in disgust.

"Sorry," Billy said petulantly, a little flush sitting on his cheeks.

"Don't take out your bad luck on your boy, David," Michael Bradley said with a smile as he raked in a small pile of chips. "Better watch out, Billy. At the rate your Master's losing, you won't be able to sit for a week."

To my horror, I heard a loud snort emanating from my own throat. I quickly tried to cover, pretending it was only a cough, but Michael turned his attention on me.

Smiling curiously at me, he raised an eyebrow. "Are you amused at the idea of spankings, Cruz?" he asked in his silky-smooth voice that sounded like molten sex. "Have you ever had one?"

I flushed at the Dom's attention but shook my head firmly. "Not likely. I'm not a child or a submissive." I glanced over at Billy. "Sorry, no offense."

Billy shrugged. "None taken. The lifestyle isn't for everyone." He smiled at David. "But maybe you don't know what you're missing."

"It's not for me," I said emphatically.

Michael turned in his chair to regard me closely. "But how do you know, if you've never experienced it? A spanking can be very erotic and not even about punishment. It can be one of the most intimate and erotic experiences of your life."

I took a deep breath. The truth was, I had been curious, ever since Billy had told me he was submissive. Sometimes I wondered how it would feel to give another man complete control over me like that. I couldn't deny the fact that I was fascinated by the idea of it, no matter what I'd just said. If I was ever going to know , I might have to give into my own desires and do some experimenting. But some other time—I wasn't brave enough yet. I covered my discomfort and embarrassment by rolling my eyes and smirking.

"Yeah, right."

Michael and David shared a smile, and then Michael leaned back in his seat and gave me a speculative look. I had the oddest feeling that Michael wasn't being fooled by me in the least.

"That sounds a bit like a challenge to me, Cruz." Michael's voice was silky smooth, but low and deep, almost like a purr. My eyes widened and I let out a little gasp as I felt my cock give a little twitch.

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Master Michael," Billy said quickly, stepping protectively in front of me. "He's very strait-laced. You know," he lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "Vanilla."

I pushed him aside, frowning. Billy may have meant well, but he could be so irritating sometimes. "Vanilla my ass. Don't speak for me, Billy. I'm not strait-laced, as you call it, either. I only know what I like, and there's no fucking way I'd ever enjoy another man spanking my ass."

There was a shocked silence after I said those words that seemed to ring through the room. I wondered if I'd said too much. These were Doms, after all, and Billy was a sub. Had I just insulted everyone here?

"Shakespeare said something about those who protest too much." Michael said, shrugging as he arched one perfect brow.

I squirmed at the attention this gorgeous man was giving me, but remained silent, looking down.

David held out a hand to Billy and drew him to his side. "My boy likes everything we do together, don't you, baby?"

Billy perked up at David's attention and preened a little. David kissed him on the lips and gestured to the floor. "Now, kneel here beside me, and bring me some luck."

I was a little embarrassed to see Billy drop quickly and gracefully to his knees beside David, but he looked happy. He sat back on his heels, his knees slightly spread and his palms resting on his thighs. David reached down and ruffled his hair affectionately and pulled him over to rest against his knee. Billy glowed like someone had switched him on from the inside.

I looked up to see Michael Bradley watching me closely. I felt a hot flush travel up my neck, and I looked down at my feet. What the hell was wrong with me? All this talk of spanking and then seeing Billy on the floor by David's feet made me feel odd and restless. My cock was filling out my tight jeans and I could feel Michael Bradley's gaze on me. I glanced up and caught an amused smirk on Michael's face, and I willed the floor to open up and swallow me.

But damn it, anybody would be fascinated by the blissful expression on Billy's face, and at how peaceful and calm the normally hyper boy had become since sinking down beside David. David had his hand on Billy's head, gently stroking his hair, and Billy seemed peaceful—and like he was being transported away from the room and onto some other plane of existence altogether. I needed that release in my life too.

However, a playful spanking was one thing, but Billy said this Michael guy was a sadist, and I knew what that word meant. I was pretty sure that wasn't for me.

I had always liked men, always known I was gay, but I'd never had fantasies about this kind of thing before. Not really. Why was it turning me on so much now to think of David holding Billy down, turning him over his knee and spanking his bare ass while Billy's strong legs kicked out helplessly behind him? How would that feel? What would it be like?

I had an image of Michael Bradley sitting in a chair, beckoning to me. I'd be naked and vulnerable and walk slowly over to Michael's side. I would no doubt drag my feet, knowing what I was about to receive. Michael would pull me down across his lap and my naked cock would be pressed tightly to his thighs. I could almost see it and the idea suddenly made me squirm as a shudder passed through me.

Michael would lean over me and say, "Are you ready for Daddy to give you your spanking, baby boy? Cruz?"

"Cruz?" the voice at the table startled me out of my daydream and I jumped. I raised his eyes to see David beckoning to me. "Could you bring us all beers, please?"

I nodded and shot a quick, hot look over at Michael. He was still watching me, his knowing gaze following my every move. I turned and hurried into the kitchen to retrieve the beers, anxious to get away from these unsettling ideas. Daddy? Had I really just imagined him as a Daddy? I was even more anxious for this strange evening to be at an end.

****

Michael

I had been interested to see Cruz staring at Billy so intently. What was he thinking? Perhaps it was just passing curiosity on the boy's part. After all, Cruz had admitted he'd never been a part of the scene and didn't know the first thing about it. He said he wasn't interested—but the look in his eyes and the growing bulge in his crotch told a slightly different story.

I wasn't stupid enough to think you could tell a sub just by looking at them, but sometimes there were clues. Working in a service industry could be a clue, for example—strong emphasis on could—along with having a basic inclination to serve others and receive emotional pleasure from it. Did Cruz feel that way? Was the idea of being submissive to another man exciting to him? Cruz was moving around the table now, serving beers on a tray, keeping his eyes down as he stopped by each man.

When he reached me, he looked up directly into my eyes and stumbled a bit, making the bottles rattle together on the tray. I reached out a hand to steady him and a jolt like something electric passed through us. I knew he felt it too, because I heard Cruz's sharp intake of breath, and he saw his eyes widen.

"Steady, boy," I said softly. Cruz glanced up into my eyes, his dark gaze hot and intense, like he was asking for something. He lowered his thick lashes quickly and moved on to the next man, making me wonder if I'd only imagined that intensity.

Across the table from me, another man's cell phone rang stridently, breaking the spell, as the man got up to take the call in the other room. Within seconds, he was back, looking worried. "That was a friend of mine. He's been in a minor car accident. He's okay, but I have to go check on him."

"Of course," David said, rising to his feet to show him to the door. There was a brief flurry of activity while the man gathered his belongings and quickly settled his accounts. We routinely played for money, though it was only a few dollars a chip. The man, Carl Lowery, had been losing steadily since he'd sat down. He was relatively new to the club, and tonight, in just a few hands, he'd proven himself to be a poor sport. I wondered why David had even asked Lowery to play, except for the fact that he was rumored to have deep pockets, and we needed investors for our newest venture. Still, I had to wonder if Lowery's friend's accident had provided a convenient way for him to get out of the game.

"Well," David said, coming back into the room. "Do you guys want to carry on with the four of us?"

"We have two more men in the room," I said quietly. "Perhaps one of them would like to sit in."

David looked surprised. "Not Billy for sure. He doesn't know anything about cards. As for Cruz…"

I interrupted him. "How about it, Cruz? Do you know how to play poker?"

He shrugged. "I'm not very good at it, but I've played a couple of times."

I pushed out the chair with my foot. "Sit down then and I'll deal you in. Unless, of course, you're afraid to play—with me."

Cruz froze at the suggestion and looked up defiantly into my eyes. It was exciting to see all that flashing in his eyes. "Why would I be afraid?"

I shrugged. "Well, you don't know me very well or how I…play. Some men are fascinated by the unknown, while others run from it. Maybe you're afraid you'd like it too much and lose yourself in it."

Cruz glanced up with an indignant look on his face, obviously aware of the double entendres , just as everyone else in the room was, and the boy's cheeks pinked up again as everyone turned to stare at him. Cruz had lovely, tanned skin but still every emotion showed plainly on his face. I had been enjoying his blushes all night.

"I'm not afraid of anything. Or anyone," Cruz said hotly.

"You can decide for yourself, Cruz," David said quietly.

"Well, I…" Cruz began, biting his bottom lip. "It's just poker, right?"

"Of course."

"Then why wouldn't I want to?" he asked hotly, stepping back toward the table. "Deal me in."

"Are they still talking about cards?" Billy whispered loudly, and David bent his head to murmur something in his ear.