Chapter Six

Kage

K age ignored the side-eye glance the pharmacist gave him along with a paper bag with his prescription inside. Sure, it had been barely a week since his previous pickup but he'd had a bad few days. Thank fuck, the doctor Mat recommended never blinked an eyelid when Kage needed more pills. But he should find another pharmacy to avoid nosy staff, even if his trek would have to be longer.

He leaned on his cane, passing several shops, a cafe, and a photo gallery, then stopped.

What were the odds?

The window of Gay's The Word bookshop gave a view into the rows of shelves crammed into the small space. One of the people browsing in there was Finley. Dressed in jeans, CAT boots and a t-shirt, he was as pleasing to the eye as when he wore leather.

Kage's cane was quiet on the carpeted floor of the bookstore as he passed the counter and a shelf with new releases until he reached the self-help section. Finley was looking through a Shibari book, pausing at pictures.

"Can I help?" Kage stepped closer and the woodsy cologne drifted to his nose. He was so close, he saw the tiny hairs on Finley's nape rise as he closed the volume. Swirly tattoos crept up his neck, adding an extra layer of hotness to his muscled look. Oh, how sweet it would be to watch that big body submit.

"No, thank y—oh." Finley looked over his shoulder, then turned around, facing Kage. "It's you. Hi." Finley swayed as if to take a step back but held his ground. "Master Kage."

Kage smirked. "Fancy seeing you here, Finley. And please call me Kage unless you're talking about me at the club." In daylight, Finley's ginger hair appeared brighter, and his short stubble added charm to his hunk-next-door look.

"Yeah. I was just—" He stepped away from the bookshelf and shrugged. "Doing homework."

"Mhm." Kage nodded, lifting his brows. "So it's not for deepening personal knowledge of the subject of BDSM?"

Ah, yes. Nothing more beautiful than a man flustered. And Finley blushed so easily—pink tinting his freckle-peppered cheeks.

Pushing people to the limits of their comfort zone was Kage's bread and butter. And the urge to find out what buttons Finley possessed became stronger when the man had filled the form on Kage's website. Except the tingling excitement in his stomach was too intense for a mere curiosity. "They don't have an extensive collection here, but I can recommend a few titles."

"Do you always sneak up on people?" Finley re-shelved the book and straightened it to align with the others.

"Nah." Only when they're blindfolded and already waiting for me. "It would be rude not to say hi once I saw you."

"Right, you're just being polite." Finley's lips quirked up.

How many had gone weak-kneed at that smile? Must be quite a number. "Yup."

"At least you didn't catch me in the romance section." Finley crossed his arms over his massive chest in a defensive stance.

"Why? You're not a fan? Those books can be educational too." He touched the upper shelf causing his shirt to ride up, drawing Finley's attention. Fuck. Did he see my scar? Stay calm. Kage dropped his hand and tucked his shirt into his jeans. "Just because society is more accepting of stories about murder and crime than romance and sex doesn't mean you can't enjoy them."

"Right. I've never thought of it that way." Finley frowned. "I came here to learn something new and I guess I just have."

"Sometimes well-researched fiction is easier to digest than self-help books. I can lend you a book or two." Kage shifted his stance as pain shot from his hip and down his leg. He regretted the move as Finley's gaze took in the cane and his smile fell.

"You okay?" Finley reached out but didn't touch Kage.

Shit, shit, shit. Distract him.

"You signed up for a session." Fuck. Kage shouldn't have said that. This was not the time nor place to discuss a scene. He didn't want Finley to see him as weak, but the panicked change of subject was unprofessional of him.

"I did." Finley swallowed but held Kage's gaze. "How did you know it was me? It could be any other Finley. My face wasn't in the picture."

But I'd recognise your body and tattoos anywhere. "You took it in the staff room mirror and wore the same clothes I saw you in the other day."

"You noticed." Finley's voice dropped.

His responses were so clear to read.

"That's what I do. It's useful in my line of work." And Kage would use that ability on Finley soon. It would be such a pleasure to watch him unravel during a scene.

Finley nodded.

Dull pain pulsed in Kage's thigh and he fought not to wince. He needed to get home. Kage opened his mouth to finish the conversation but Finley interrupted him.

"I haven't seen you with a cane before." The frown mixed with a gentle expression on Finley's face suggested he was more worried than curious.

Fuck, no. Not pity.

Kage tightened his grip on the walking stick until the engraved hand bit into his palm. "I don't need it often." Lies. It hurts. It fucking hurts but I don't want to take any more painkillers. He couldn't say it. He never did.

"Maybe I could help?"

Kage raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"I used to work in rehabilitation—"

"I know muscles and what they do—I tie people up for a living." Kage took a step back, ready to leave. Approaching Finley before the scene had been a mistake.

"But this is different. Wait. It's your hip, isn't it?" Finley followed him that single step. "A scar is sometimes visible above the waistband of your jeans."

Retreat, retreat! "I have to go. See you at the club, Finley."

"Let me help."

"I appreciate the offer, but no thank you."

"But—" Finley grabbed Kage's wrist.

A zing ran through the connection and Kage froze. No one dared to touch him at the club. And that was why he should keep his interactions to that place. It was safe. He turned to face Finley. Nose to nose. Despite being half his weight, Kage marched forward, forcing Finley back until he stopped at a bookshelf.

He smelled even nicer up close. Like promises of a cosy night by the fire, snuggled under blankets.

"But what?" Kage released the words out slowly, his gaze boring into Finley's.

"If you let me see it, maybe I could—"

Fucking hell, he was stubborn. "I don't need help."

Finley pursed his lips. "Do it for me?" His eyes went wide as if he regretted the words but he didn't take them back.

Kage didn't have patience for emotional games. Even if the sheer proximity to Finley raised his temperature in the best way.

"Why would I? I don't know you." He said in a dry tone. Regret filled him and doubled in intensity when Finley's face fell like he'd been sucker punched.

"You're right. I'm just the new guy at work. But I'm here if you—"

Kage leaned closer, his nose nearly touching Finley's. It would be so easy to kiss him. To pin him to the shelf and devour his mouth. Wipe the sad expression off his face and replace it with a smile. Or better yet, with an O of pleasure.

After all, on his application, Finley marked kissing as a major turn-on.

Finley's breath caught, and he parted his lips. He was ready to follow the lead. Perfect.

But Kage didn't need a complication in his life. Not even in the form of a gorgeous redhead. No. Those belonged on the club's stage.

He'd book Finley soon. Very very soon. "I'll see you on Tuesday. Look out for my email," he said, before pivoting on his good leg and marching out of the bookstore.