How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Eddie slumped back onto the bed and tried not to give in to disappointment, but it proved impossible. He should have known Jeff wasn’t ready to own up to loving a man. Well, okay, shagging a man at any rate. Love didn’t come into it, what with all that romantic nonsense being nothing but a short-term hormonal imbalance.

Although that didn’t explain why his heart had screamed in protest when Jeff fobbed his mum off, calling Eddie a “she”.

No, he had to admit it, he wanted more out of Jeff than that. He wanted a chance to have a proper relationship and see where it led. To see if he could, in fact, fall in love, given the opportunity.

But it was abundantly clear what Jeff was really after, and while Eddie might be a great match for him in many ways, he was short a pair of breasts, and had that whole inconvenient cock-and-balls thing going on between his legs. Maybe if he’d been one of those blokes who got a kick out of cross-dressing, then they could have worked something out. He could have pretended to be “Edwina” until Jeff’s family got to know him, and once he’d charmed his way into their hearts, he could have revealed his true identity.

Although to be honest, that probably wouldn’t have worked. Even the best drag artists weren’t one hundred percent convincing when you got up close. The Adam’s apple was always a giveaway, as was the size of their hands. No, it would never have worked. Eddie let that daydream fly away on a cloud of perfume.

And if Eddie couldn’t make himself female, and Jeff wouldn’t come out, there was absolutely no way they could be together, beyond the odd snatched night here and there.

Eddie wasn’t about to be someone’s dirty little secret. Yes, the sex was amazing, but he wanted a man who was proud to be with him. Not someone who lied and hid him behind closed doors. He was getting too old for that shit.

Eddie scowled at the door in question and slowly, carefully, eased himself out of bed. The springs made a noise, but hopefully it wouldn’t be audible downstairs. His shorts were lying by the bed, and he’d packed a spare T-shirt in his case.

By the time he was dressed, he could still hear muffled voices downstairs. Impossible to tell what they were saying, but he’d probably end up being heard if he tried to open the door and listen in. And then Jeff’s mum would charge up here, and Jeff would be busted, and he’d never forgive Eddie for forcing him out of the closet in such a spectacular fashion.

For a brief moment, Eddie entertained the idea of just walking down there and kissing Jeff in front of his mum. He could say good-bye and stroll on out, leaving Jeff to deal with the fallout. The idea had a lot going for it. Revenge at being referred to as a “she” for a start. And it might help Jeff get over the whole “I’m straight” lie he’d been telling himself and everyone else who would listen.

Eddie paused with his hand on the door handle. He could stride on down there and destroy Jeff’s carefully constructed world, but it wouldn’t be fair. Who knew what kind of shit Jeff would have to deal with as a result? His dad sounded like a total bigot. And besides, outing people against their will was wrong, plain and simple. Yes, probably universal acceptance and end to homophobia would come around sooner if gay sports stars and celebrities didn’t lie through their teeth, but they had to find the courage to come out by themselves. It didn’t mean much, otherwise. Tom Daley’s YouTube confession must have been a hell of a lot more inspiring to young gay men than poor old George Michael’s scandalous arrest had been for Eddie’s generation.

Although it had had the bonus of making public toilets seem incredibly glamorous and exciting for a short while.

The voices downstairs grew louder—they must have been walking through the living room. Eddie pressed his ear to the door.

“—don’t know why you don’t just wake her up and bring her down, love. I’m not that scary, am I?” Jeff’s mum was saying.

“Maybe I want her to keep the bed warm. You think about that?”

“Okay, okay. Spare me the details. I’m just saying, though, I want you to pass on the invitation for lunch. Anyone you’re interested in is welcome at our table, you know that. There’s always room for one or two more, and I can always chuck in a few more veg to stretch the meat out further.”

“Thanks, Mum. I’ll mention it, but don’t get your hopes up.”

There was a sound of kissing, and Jeff grunted like he was being hugged tight around the middle. Eddie’s chest panged. He’d had hugs like that off his stepmum many a time, but never from his real mum, who just air-kissed and held his shoulders with her carefully manicured talons. Jeff didn’t know how lucky he was, having someone like that to look out for him. He’d bet anything she was all grey-haired and mumsy, in a cosy cardigan and sensible skirt. Eddie crept over to the window and peeped through a crack in the curtains. Moments later, a small, blonde woman in leopard-print leggings and an alarming sequinned T-shirt appeared on the path, tottering along on a pair of gold high-heeled sandals.

Okaay. Good thing he hadn’t bet anything on that, after all.

At the end of the garden path, she turned back to face the house, looking right up at Eddie. Shit. He closed the curtain a crack so that only his eye was peeking out.

Jeff’s mum smirked and waggled her fingers up at him.

She couldn’t have seen him. Not really. Just the movement.

Eddie kept stock-still, not even breathing until she’d turned back and started off down the road.

Phew. He was still calming his beating heart when Jeff clumped back up the stairs again.

“Oh, you’re up.”

Eddie turned to find Jeff pouting.

“I thought you’d still be in bed.”

“I’m all wide awake now.”

“Yeah, but being wide awake in bed can be fun too.”

Eddie’s dick stirred in interest, but the rest of him really wasn’t in the mood anymore. “I should get going. Got lots to be getting on with.”

“But it’s Sunday.”

“There’s no such thing as a day off when you’re self-employed.”

“I don’t work at the weekends.”

“No. You have Sunday lunch with your loving family. Who would be ever so happy for you to invite me along. Oh, except not me, after all. They want you to invite your mythical girlfriend. Is that what you’ve been telling them all along? That I’m some bird you’re seeing? And nothing serious either. Certainly not important enough to invite to a family meal.”

Jeff frowned. “Come off it. I thought about inviting you as a friend, but they’d be bound to find it weird. I mean, aside from the sex, what have the two of us got in common anyway? They’d never understand why we were friends. And my dad, he’d know as soon as he clapped eyes on you, you was gay.”

“And that would be a bad thing?”

“Of course it bloody well would. He’s never had a good thing to say about gay blokes. Ever. He’d be muttering insults under his breath the whole meal. And that’s the best-case scenario.”

“You think I haven’t had to deal with raving homophobes before? I know how to stand up to a bit of bullying. I’ve been out since I was sixteen, so I’ve had my fair share of it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never met my dad, and it would all get messy. Trust me. He’d end up arguing with Mum and me. You wouldn’t want to be there.”

Eddie fought down the urge to tell Jeff it was all a bit “messy” already. “Fine. Look, I’m just going to head off home. You can deal with your arsehole of a dad by yourself.”

“He’s not an arsehole.” Jeff didn’t sound too sure of himself.

“He certainly sounds like one.” But what did he really know about the man, after all? Maybe Eddie was the one being the name-calling bully now. Shit. “Sorry, I’m being judgmental. I’m sure he has his good qualities too. He raised you, for a start.”

Jeff gave a grim smile. “Yeah, but I think I turned out all right despite that.”

“Maybe. I say one thing, though. I think you’d be a lot less mixed up in the head about your own sexuality if you hadn’t had to deal with a homophobic bully as your male role model. Just something to think about.”

Eddie could see he was about to outstay his welcome by the pained and resentful expression on Jeff’s face. “I’ll be off. Don’t forget to book that hotel for next weekend. I’ll send you the details of the club so you can find somewhere near. And hey…” He picked up his suitcase on the way to the door. “I had a great time last night. Just thought you should know.”

Jeff really looked at him then. “You did?”

“I did.” Eddie wiggled his arse a little. “Still feeling it too. Double bonus.” He winked and headed on out of the door. He wasn’t going to push his luck going for a kiss. Jeff was already floundering. He didn’t want to push him hard and meet resistance. Because resistance in blokes like Jeff often came backed up with fist power.

Eddie wasn’t about to risk ending it all like that. He wanted to part as good friends, not enemies.

Although, in actual fact, he didn’t want to part at all.

Chapter Twenty-Five

That week, the weather turned muggy, with hazy clouds trapping the heat of the day so that even at night, Jeff could find no escape. It was horrible weather for toiling outside, and even worse when you were in a bad mood.

Much as he wanted to blame his mood purely on the humidity, Jeff knew that was only half the reason he hadn’t been sleeping properly. The things Eddie had said as he left kept swirling around in his mind. Jeff kept trying to compose a text to clear the air, but it was impossible to pin down his own feelings. He thought about simply sending Eddie the photos he’d taken of him all trussed up, but he wasn’t sure how that would go down after the way they’d parted. And besides, he was paranoid about keeping them on his phone in case someone got hold of it and had a look, so he’d already downloaded them to a password-protected file on his computer and wiped them off the phone. In the end, he just booked a hotel and texted Eddie the details, asking if he wanted to meet there or drive down together.

Parking looks bad. Let’s go in my car,
Eddie responded.

Okay… Jeff stared at his phone.
Are we okay?

We’re fine. See you on Saturday. Can you be ready for five?

They arranged the timings, and Jeff didn’t ask any more personal questions.
Just friends.
That was what Eddie had said, wasn’t it? He’d said they could go as equals. Nobody would need to know their relationship.

But what about if Jeff wanted people to know? Not anyone local, of course, but in Bournemouth, in a kink club, he could test it out. See what it was like being gay for a night. They’d be an accepting crowd, used to seeing all kinds of stuff. You wouldn’t get close-minded arseholes like Jeff’s dad there. Hopefully.

With a plan in his head, Jeff got surfing online.

By the time Eddie pulled up outside on Friday afternoon, Jeff had almost worked himself up into chickening out of the whole thing. But since Eddie was driving, he’d decided on opening a cool can of liquid courage, and that had gone down rather too easily. He was halfway through his second can of Stella when Eddie honked the horn outside.

Eddie had the top down, so Jeff just tossed his suitcase over into the backseat before settling down, can between his knees. Eddie raised his eyebrows at it. “You’re starting early.”

“I’m allowed to. I’ve been slaving away in the heat all week.”

“I’m not judging. Think I’ll be joining you as soon as we get there. God, I hope the hotel has air-conditioning.”

“It does.” Jeff had checked. It also had a king-size bed and a hot tub, but he thought he’d save the surprise for later. He was looking forward to seeing Eddie’s face when they walked through the door of their room.

Jeff had expected the drive down to be awkward, what with all the unsaid crap in his head, but Eddie kept up the lighthearted chatter about his week and childhood outings to the places they were driving through, and they had fun spotting peculiar place names. Sandy Balls was a favourite.

“Sounds painful,” Eddie said. “And not in a good way.”

Jeff chuckled. “Should be all right if it’s Weymouth sand. That stuff’s really soft.” He’d loved holidaying there as a child, staying with his gran. In some ways, he’d liked it even better than their annual jaunt down to the Costa del Sol.

“I suppose so. Did you know their sand’s so fine, it’s only just big enough to be classified as sand. Any finer and it would be silt. That’s why it’s so beautiful for making sandcastles.”

“You’ve been there?” Jeff couldn’t hide his surprise. Weymouth was hardly the kind of posh resort he’d have expected Eddie to holiday in.

“Oh yeah. Used to go at least twice every summer. Had to visit my aunt.”

“Me too. Well, not my aunt. My gran.” It was good to discover they had that much in common, at least, and so they spent the next twenty miles swapping memories of the beach resort while the car whizzed through sleepy little villages crammed full of thatched cottages, like something you’d see on a jigsaw puzzle or Dorset souvenir tea towel.

Part of Jeff wished they were going to Weymouth instead of Bournemouth, so they could spend a lazy weekend exploring old haunts together. But a larger and more aggressive part of him was thrumming with nervous anticipation of the night ahead, and he wasn’t about to suggest changing their plans. But as they drew closer to the seaside town, Eddie switched on his sat nav, and their conversation grew sparser while the roads grew busier.

Jeff had forgotten how built up Bournemouth was. It surely must have been big enough to be classed as a city these days, and the urban bustle and hectic traffic was a far cry from dozy little Hook St. Norton. But Eddie seemed to feel at home on the roads, navigating the traffic with only the occasional mild curse. It was a good thing they’d taken his car, as Jeff would have been spitting insults left, right and centre by now. The roads had far too many lanes, and the number of signs gave him a headache. Or maybe that was just him being dazzled by the headlights of the other cars as the sun slowly set.

But finally Eddie turned down a side street, and then into a car park, announcing, “Here we go. Oh, looks much nicer than I’d imagined.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that I’d been picturing a traditional seaside B&B for some reason. This is a proper hotel. But really, I hope you didn’t spend too much on it. I’d have been fine anywhere. I don’t mind roughing it.”

“Maybe I do, though.”

Eddie lay his hand down on Jeff’s thigh. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Every time I start thinking you’re just a typical straight bloke, you go and show me another side of you. You have hidden depths, you know.”

This conversation had gone way out of Jeff’s comfort zone now. Bloody good thing he’d never bought Eddie flowers, after all. “I just like a decent night’s sleep, that’s all. And I wanted somewhere with thick walls.” He grabbed hold of Eddie’s thigh and squeezed, sliding his fingers up the inseam of Eddie’s jeans.

“Hmmm, carry on like that, and I’ll make sure you don’t get any sleep tonight. You’ll turn me on so much I’ll be insatiable.” Eddie leaned over to speak right into Jeff’s ear, his voice low and seductive. God, it was tempting to just get Eddie’s cock out and make him come here in the car.

But Jeff could control himself until later. “I’ll make you come so hard you’ll pass out.”

“What if I’ve scored some Viagra? I could keep going all night then. We could both keep going all night. Imagine that. Staying hard for hours on end. You could give me such an epic shafting, I’d be begging for you to stop.”

Jeff’s cock jumped up and screamed
yes, please
, even as his mind lectured him on what a terrible idea that would be. “I don’t do drugs,” Jeff eventually stammered, even as Eddie’s hand massaged his erection through his jeans.

“Me either. And I’ve never actually tried the little blue pills before, but I reckon it could be fun someday, don’t you?”

“I think I’ll save them till I actually need them. Which means hopefully never.”

“Mmm, you certainly don’t seem to have a problem getting it up.” Eddie squeezed the tip of Jeff’s cock, and it was almost too much to bear. Jeff grabbed his wrist and pinned his hand down to the edge of his seat before kissing him briefly yet thoroughly.

When he pulled back, Eddie looked kind of dazed. His lips also looked deliciously tempting, all glistening with spit. Jeff wanted to see them painted in his jizz.

“Out of the car. Now.”

“What are you going to do to me? Surely not here, in a car park? Anyone could see.” Eddie didn’t actually sound like he objected to the idea, all wide eyes and breathy voice.

“You’ll get your chance for a bit of exhibitionism later,” Jeff promised. “For now, I just want to get us checked in and into our room.”

“And then what?”

“And then I’m going to push you down onto your knees and fuck your throat until I come.”

Eddie made a turned-on sound in his throat that just revved Jeff’s engine even harder. Jeff opened his door. “Out of the car. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They made it to reception somehow, and Jeff was glad of the bag he could hold in front of his crotch. It didn’t seem like the kind of place that would appreciate men wandering through the lobby with obvious tents in their pants. It was definitely a good few cuts above a fleapit that charged by the hour. They had a giant vase of fresh flowers on the counter, and not the kind of flowers he grew in his garden or that you could buy on a garage forecourt. Nope, these were all sculptural and tropical looking, and the only ones Jeff actually recognised were the giant artichoke flowers. Seemed a bit of a bloody waste of good artichokes, but posh people were weird like that.

He reassessed his opinion when they got to the room, though. He’d been worried it would all be over the top and he’d get paranoid about breaking some overpriced knick knack, but the room was actually pretty simple. And entirely white, from the plush fluffy carpet to the iron bedstead to the giant ornate mirror frame.

“Wow.” Eddie had stopped just inside the door, his eyes as round as pennies. “This room is something else. It seems a shame to have our luggage out and spoiling the colour scheme.”

Jeff didn’t really give a fuck about the colour scheme. Not when Eddie was standing there looking good enough to eat. He felt an absurd urge to drop to his own knees on the fluffy carpet, but he wasn’t about to do that.

Although what if tonight was his last chance?

But what if he loved it, and then he couldn’t give it up? It was going to be hard enough doing without Eddie as it was. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life pining after the bloke’s cock. Better if he didn’t know what he was missing. And besides, Jeff wouldn’t have a clue what he was doing down there, whereas Eddie was a fucking expert.

Jeff stepped right up to Eddie and put his hands on his shoulders, then pressed down.

“Mmm, are you not even going to let me get unpacked?” Eddie asked, but he didn’t seem bothered by the rush. Not with the way he got to work on Jeff’s fly, and then his cock, swallowing it down whole.

Jeff tried to make it last, but it was so fucking good in Eddie’s mouth, and he’d been wanting this all week. And the desperate, gasping noises Eddie made every time Jeff drew back far enough for him to gulp a breath were so fucking erotic. In the end, he let go and painted spunk all over Eddie’s mouth and cheeks, just like he’d promised. Looked great, dripping down his chin. Jeff swiped his finger through it and fed it to Eddie, who was still clinging on to Jeff’s bum with both hands.

Jeff gazed down, taking in the glazed stare and the erection still filling out the front of Eddie’s jeans. “Good boy. That’s it. Now, are you going to behave for me tonight? There’ll be a reward in it for you.”

Eddie nodded.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Eddie cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded raspy and raw. “I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You’re not going to come until I say you can. Which isn’t going to be until much, much later. I want you bursting with the need to come the whole time we’re at the club.”

The pout Eddie gave him was way sexier than it should have been. “Please, Sir. I’ll be good to go again later. I promise. It’s not going to be a problem.”

“But I want you to be squirming with the need to come all evening.” Jeff glanced at his watch. Half seven already, but they still had a couple of hours until the place opened. “Come on. We can eat downstairs, then come back up to get ready.”

Eddie looked like he was about to refuse, and his hand drifted down to rub his cock through his jeans, but Jeff just raised an eyebrow, and Eddie stopped. “Fuck! You’re a right bastard, you know that? I’ve trained you too well, I have. When am I going to learn?” Eddie continued grumbling in that vein as he got to his feet and put his case on the bed, but Jeff could see he was smiling too.

Although they chose to eat in the hotel’s bar rather than the restaurant, the food was still a bit fussy sounding for Jeff’s liking, but fortunately Eddie pointed him in the direction of fish and chips—even if it described itself as a fillet of sea bass coated in beer batter, with hand-cut pommes frites—and it turned out to be delicious.

And what was even more delicious was watching Eddie fidget and adjust himself during the meal, and the way he glared whenever Jeff brushed their legs together. “Don’t blame me if I pop the moment a stray breeze brushes my cock,” Eddie muttered. “I don’t know how I’m going to calm down enough to take a piss. I’ll be splashing all over the ceiling at this rate.” He glared over the top of his glass as he took another swig of orange juice.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking anything, then.” Jeff took a long draught of his beer and smacked his lips noisily. “Mmm, delicious.”

“I really hate you sometimes.” But then Eddie smiled, and Jeff smiled back, and he stopped caring that they were out in public. He took hold of Eddie’s hand across the table and stroked it rhythmically.

“You can do it. I know you can. You’ll do it for me. It’ll be worth it.”

“What? Pissing on the ceiling?”

“You know what I mean.”

Eddie’s mouth twisted into a smile. “All right. All right. Just don’t make me wait too long.”

“I’ll make you wait as long as I want to. I’m the one in charge here.”

Eddie blinked hard, but when he finally met Jeff’s gaze again, his eyes had softened.

“Yes, Sir.”