Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

T uesday night, Del held out a chair for Matthew at their table at Tuscany and then sat across from him. Although Matthew had once been inside the upscale Italian restaurant near the Riverwalk in Tampa for a patient who choked on a piece of veal, he'd never eaten there. Thankfully, the victim survived. Otherwise, Matthew might've been uncomfortable having dinner at the place.

Now, he could take in his surroundings and enjoy the pleasant atmosphere. Beautiful strains of instrumental music floated through the air, but it was muted enough to accommodate conversations. The decor was rich and elegant but not ostentatious. It was what Matthew imagined inviting restaurants in Italy looked like. Florence, the capital of Tuscany, was on his bucket list ever since his cousin raved about it after honeymooning with her husband there a few years ago. Someday, he'd get there.

With the unopened menu the hostess had left on the table in front of him, he was a little nervous about finding out what the meals cost. When they discussed where to go on a date, Del made it clear that dinner would be his treat. Matthew then realized he didn't know much about what Del did for a living other than he was a computer programmer or something like that. While the man could obviously afford The Covenant's club membership, it didn't mean he had an abundance of wealth. Regardless, Matthew would find one of the cheaper entrees to order. He didn't want to come across as greedy and high-maintenance. Money wasn't what he found attractive in a man, and he would never date someone because they were rich or not date someone because they were poor. He just wanted to find someone to love and have the man love him back for no reason other than they were meant to be together.

It was their second date since the night of the Secret Santa when they exchanged cell phone numbers before parting. Matthew was thrilled to receive a text from Del the following day, thanking him for a fantastic evening. They texted each other on and off for several hours before making plans to see each other again.

They met for lunch at the Sand Key Park in Clearwater yesterday, several hours before Matthew's 7:00 p.m. split shift. Del picked up sandwiches at a deli, and since it was raining, they ate them in Matthew's truck while discussing various topics. Several times, he missed things that Del said because he'd been too busy silently undressing the man in his mind—which he seemed to be doing again right then.

Yesterday, Del wore jeans, sneakers, and a Cincinnati Bengals T-shirt molded to his fine physique. Tonight, he was dressed all in black—dress pants, a leather belt, a silk shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a pair of oxfords on his feet that were shined to perfection. The attire was more suitable for the fancy restaurant and The Covenant, where they planned to go for dessert later. And yes, that was a euphemism for a scene involving sex.

Matthew had spent over an hour trying on different shirts and pants, wanting to look fabulous and alluring to his date without coming across as a hooker in a gay version of Pretty Woman . He'd finally settled on skinny black dress pants with ankle boots and a shiny, satin teal button-down shirt with a built-in tie instead of lapels that hung loosely from his neck. He'd topped it off with a black, waist-length bolero jacket with a lacy teal handkerchief square in the left breast pocket.

Before they could look at their menus, a tall, young waiter approached and stopped beside their table. His brown-eyed gaze zeroed in on Del, making Matthew want to stand up and slap the man silly.

Feeling possessive and jealous? Why, yes, I am. Thank you very much!

"Hi, my name is Josh, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you a drink or . . . anything else, sir?" the blond himbo asked, never taking his eyes off Del or acknowledging Matthew's presence.

The come-fuck-me drawl in his voice was also hard to miss, and Matthew huffed loudly, drawing Del's full attention. The Dom winked at him as if he knew Matthew was annoyed as fuck. " Sweetheart , what would you like to drink?"

He nearly melted at the endearment. Instead, he gave Del a sultry gaze and licked his upper lip before shifting his eyes to stare at the waiter, whose face showed his disappointment that the hottest guy in the place was most definitely taken. "I'll have an orange margarita with sugar instead of salt since I'm already so sweet and delicious." His gaze returned to Del. "Aren't I, Sir ?"

Across the table, Del hid a smirk behind his fist before clearing his throat. "Absolutely," he said before murmuring, "Little brat."

Del stared at Matthew's grin for several heartbeats before addressing the server, still waiting for his order. "And I'll have a glass of merlot, please."

"Of course."

After giving Matthew a sideways stink-eye, the guy left to get their drinks. It was then an awful thought popped into Matthew's mind. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Oh, crap. I hope he doesn't spit in my food later!"

Del barked out a soft laugh. "I'll make it clear that we'll be sharing our meals. Hopefully, that will deter any wayward and unhygienic ideas he might have."

He picked up his menu and gestured for Matthew to do the same. "Let's decide what to eat, and then there are a few things I want to discuss with you."

"Uh-oh. That sounds ominous."

Another chuckle erupted from Del's throat. "Not at all. Despite our previous conversations, I realized we haven't negotiated a contract or talked about whether you want one with me."

"I do!" he proclaimed a bit too loudly. Several nearby patrons glanced in their direction, and a blush stole across his cheeks. Eager much? He brought the volume of his voice down a level or two. "I mean, I'd be honored to negotiate a contract with you, Sir."

"I'm glad. It'll be my honor as well." Del's gaze dropped to the menu. "What looks good to you?"

Matthew licked his lips as he studied the dark chest hair peeking out from the V of Del's shirt. He remembered what it felt like against his back while strapped to the St. Andrew's cross during their Secret Santa scene. The thought had his cock hardening. He'd jacked off to that memory every morning and night since, but nothing came close to the real thing.

"Matthew."

"Hmm?"

"I asked what you wanted to eat."

"You, Sir." His eyes widened when he realized he said that aloud, and their server had returned in time to hear it. Matthew's drink was placed a little too hard on the table in front of him, almost causing the liquid to splash over the top. He gave the man a brief glare and then focused on the menu. While the prices were slightly higher than at the more casual restaurants he usually frequented, they weren't exorbitant, thank goodness. "Um . . . What are you getting? Everything looks so good."

"Why don't we pick two entrees and share them?"

Damn, the man was smooth and hadn't forgotten Matthew's fear. Once confident he wouldn't giggle out loud, he replied, "Oooh. That's a great idea. Uh, let's see." He quickly scanned the list of entrees and their descriptions. "The chicken alla Milanese looks yummy."

"It does. How about that and the wild mushroom ravioli?"

Matthew found it on the menu and then nodded. "Sounds absolutely scrumptious ."

Okay, he was laying it on a little thick, for Josh's sake, but so what? He was in a bratty mood and never one to back down from the competition.

"Good."

Del took Matthew's menu and added it to his own to hand to the server when the man was done jotting down their order. "What dressing would you like on your salad, sir?"

Again, he only addressed Del, and Matthew knew he wasn't the only one who noticed because the Dom's jaw tightened for a moment before he asked, "Matthew, what would you like on your salad?"

With an all-too-sweet cheeky grin, he placed his elbows on the table, tucked his clasped hands under his chin, and batted his eyes at the server. "Bleu cheese, please."

"Make that two," Del added dismissively.

Once the server left them alone again, Matthew tilted his head. "Thank you."

Del took a sip of his wine. "For what?"

"For letting me know you were annoyed at him and not making a scene about it."

"He was rude, pup." He reached across the table and took Matthew's hand. "Everyone here can probably tell we're on a date, and even if we weren't, his forwardness was unwanted and uncalled for, especially since he's here to do a job. I doubt the restaurant's owner approves of his servers flirting with the clientele."

Del glanced down to where his thumb caressed the back of Matthew's hand before meeting his gaze again. "I'm very attracted to you, Matthew. As it sometimes happens in the lifestyle, we started backward—sceneing and having sex before our first date. I want to continue seeing you in and out of the club, and if you say yes to that, it will be exclusive. We'll sign a contract, and you'll wear my collar at the club and be committed to a relationship with me outside of it. I don't share. I also don't cheat or lead someone on, and I expect the same respect in return."

For a moment, he was speechless. He hadn't expected Del to want to be exclusive after knowing each other for only a few days. "I don't do any of that either, Sir. And I would really love to wear your collar and date you."

Del squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

"Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?"

"Do you want to?"

"Uh, yeah ." He dramatically pointed in Josh's direction as he attended to another table. "I mean, it'll be easier to get rid of waiters who drool all over you."

Laughing, Del shook his head. "Permission granted, for that reason alone." He shrugged. "Or for any other reason."

Throughout the rest of the meal, they discussed each other's hard and soft limits and the protocols Del expected Matthew to follow while in the club. They were compatible with their limits, and no protocols were red flags for Matthew, for which he thanked the Goddess of Twink submissives. They agreed to play at the club that evening but put off officially signing a contract until after Christmas. Del said it was because Matthew had too much on his mind between the upcoming holidays and waiting for his test results. The man seemed to know him so well already and that made Matthew's heart swell.

It'd been a long time since he was so enamored with a Dom, and not just for sex or to satisfy his masochistic needs. In less than a week, he'd fallen for Del—hard. He just hoped it wasn't one-sided. Just because Del wanted to be exclusive didn't mean the relationship wouldn't end at some point.

Matthew couldn't wait to get to the club by the time their dinner was over. While his stomach's hunger was sated, he couldn't say the same for the rest of his body. His cock was hard, and his ass ached to be filled. The cane marks on his skin had faded since Del expertly put them there. They both knew that a second caning only a few days later would not be wise, so Del planned another form of torture to send the submissive into subspace tonight. However, he refused to tell Matthew what it was until they were at The Covenant, making his anticipation and need spike. Heaven help him.