Needing Harte (1-800-DOM-Help) (4 page)

Thomas laughed. “Master Harte, I know you want Ramey. Hell, I’ve seen him and I wanted him.”

The curl of rage that flamed up nearly consumed Harte. “He’s not some piece of meat you can just pick up at the store. Don’t talk about him that way.”

His anger caught him off guard. How could he feel that strongly about someone he’d just met? Hell, they hadn’t even talked about anything other than Harte’s investigation. Then they’d shared that steamy, crank-your-cock kiss.

“Believe me, Harte, I understand what you’re feeling. I’ve been in your shoes. The question now is do you want to pursue these feelings or do you want to live the rest of your life in denial? Do you want to stand by and let some other Dominant collar Ramey? Make no mistake, someone will eventually collar that sexy sub.”

His answer was instant. “Tell me what I need to do.”

He felt a door inside of him open. Some long-buried part of him stretched into awareness.

Thomas answered patiently as Harte asked every question he could think of. If he was going to do this thing, he wouldn’t be half-assed about it.

Stifling a yawn caught him completely by surprise and he glanced at the clock on the man-tel to see that he’d been on the phone for nearly three hours. He’d talked to Thomas about things he’d never talked to anyone about and learned things he’d never even dreamed about.

At the end of their conversation, Thomas suggested he visit a local private club, by invita-tion of course, and see if he might be able to deal with what he found there and then pursue a possible relationship with Ramey.

“Unfettered? I’ve never heard of that, Sir.” Ramey paused his aimless pacing in Jason’s office. “Is that where you and Leo met?”

He knew Winters’ sub had been completely unknown on the local scene but the rumor was that they’d met in some private, swanky dungeon. Ramey licked his lips. Maybe a little playtime with some new blood would get his mind off the cop.

Cops were dangerous in his world and not just because they put you in the wrong kind of cage. Ramey’d lived on the street for while after leaving the community of artists where his parents lived. He’d learned fast that there were two kinds of cops out there—dirty and mean or clean and mean. Either way you got screwed and not in a good way.

“Ramey? Weren’t you listening? You’re lucky you aren’t wearing my collar. I’d make you eat on the floor for a week.” Jason’s smile gave the lie to his threat.

“Sorry, Sir. I guess my mind wandered. So you’ll take me to this club?” He smiled at Winter’s affirming nod.

“Wear something that comes off easily. I may put you through your paces to show off your pretty ass to some of the Masters there, boy.”

Ramey laughed. “I have just the thing.”

Winters just waved him away as he bent back to his paperwork. With that unspoken dis-missal, Ramey pulled the door closed behind him. A new club. Tonight would be a new start.

He would let some of his pain over Kevin’s death out. He’d found that the bite of the whip helped more than alcohol to excise the hurt. He hummed as he went to the dressing room to get ready for the night. He hoped he’d meet someone new at the club.

Harte rubbed a hand down his thigh. The leather pants weren’t new but they had been shoved in the back of his closet for a long time. The bluish open-necked cotton shirt he’d paired with them had been a gift from his last lover. The guy swore the color was the same as his eyes. Thomas had given him some instruction on what to wear and how to act, key phrases to use if approached by a sub while inside and what not to do as a Dom.

He hadn’t been this nervous since his first day on the job. Taking a deep breath, he rapped on the dark wood door in front of him. A massive bald guy opened the door and just stood there, not saying a word. Harte held out the business card Winters had given him and said, “Master Thomas sent me. My name is Harte Donovan.”

“Welcome, Master Harte. I’m Hayden. Please come in.”

Stepping through the unfamiliar door felt strangely like coming home. The dark wood, the niches with couches and chairs set aside for conversation, and in one case, an obvious Dom getting a blowjob from a very enthusiastic sub. All of it drew him in, made him feel comfortable. It was almost like stepping into his own skin for the first time.

Striding up to the bar and catching the eye of the very attractive female bartender, he ordered coffee, not wanting alcohol to cloud his mind in any way. Sliding a cup in front of him, the woman filled it with rich-smelling coffee. Harte met her eyes as he lifted it to his lips.

“Just made it fresh. I’m Tasha, by the way. Give me a shout if you need anything. And welcome to Unfettered.”

“Thanks.” The vivid blue halter top and low-riding leather pants Tasha wore outlined a very athletic figure, nice hips and long legs. Though his taste had never really run to women, he could appreciate the view as she walked away, her red ponytail swinging between her shoulders.

The cop in him didn’t like the open area he was in, so he moved deeper into the club, finding an empty spot of wall to lean against and observe. Not only that but he felt better with his back against the wall. Here he could keep an eye on anyone coming inside. With that much of an early warning maybe come up with some cover story as to why he was here. It wouldn’t do for him to be found here by anyone he knew, just as it would have been dangerous for him to have gone looking for Ramey anywhere else.

He watched the door, saw the various subs and Doms as they walked through the club or danced on the crowded dance floor. There were all kinds of couples, men with men, men with women, women together, and several threesomes. He found it very easy to pick out the Doms and subs by their attire. Most of the Doms were fully clothed while the subs…weren’t.

As he stood with his cup cradled in one hand, a man wearing only a leather harness-like contraption and a pair of tight leather shorts came over and knelt in front of him. Harte glanced down at the man’s bowed head and felt his own pulse rate increasing. “Speak.”

“Master, my name is David. My owner sent me to tell you that I am yours for the evening, if it pleases you.”

Swallowing, Harte raised his gaze to sweep the club. A stocky older man with a big gray mustache was leaning against the bar raised his beer in a toast in Harte’s direction. Looking back at the young man kneeling on the wood floor in front of him, Harte grinned. Touching the younger man’s head, stroking him softly, he raised the man’s chin so he could see his face.

“Tell your Master I appreciate the offer but I’m waiting for someone.”

“As you command, Master.” The younger man gracefully rose to his feet, backed up a step or two and bowed, then backed up even farther before turning and approaching the older man at the bar. Harte watched as he went to his knees in front of his Master and saw the older man stroke across the harness before offering his sub some water from a glass on the bar.

Glancing back toward the entrance, Harte felt his heart stop in his chest. Jason Winters had just entered the club with Ramey and another man. Winters held a leash in his left hand and that leash was attached to a black and gold collar around the slender brunette’s neck.

That sub wore what looked like a black loincloth while Winters wore black leather pants and a black leather vest without a shirt.

Ramey was also leashed, but Winters wasn’t holding onto his leash. It looked like it was attached to the belt around Winters’ waist. Ramey wore a red G-string similar to the one he’d worn onstage the first time Harte had seen him. The guy was just as gorgeous now as he’d been under stage lights.

Unable to get his feet to move, Harte watched as another Dom approached Winters and the two subs. The two Doms spoke and then the stranger turned his attention to Ramey.

Harte felt a swift rush of anger as Ramey nodded and Winters handed his leash off to the other man.

Not taking his eyes off them, Harte watched as the Dom led Ramey to a big X affixed to the wall. Ramey’s wrists and ankles were secured to the wood and the Dom strolled over to a wall display with several whips and canes. Choosing one with a long handle and several loose straps, he moved back toward Ramey. Now Harte could move. He made his way through the crowd, closer to the area where the two men were.

He noticed Winters and his sub coming toward him but didn’t acknowledge them until the other Dom landed his first blow on Ramey’s upper back.

“He agreed to this?”

“Ramey enjoys a good flogging from time to time. They discussed his limits, it’ll be a flogging only, no sex.”

Harte narrowed his eyes as Jason smiled at him. “Ramey’s choice, Harte. He seems to be saving himself for someone.”

The other Dom had landed several blows on Ramey’s back and buttocks, even his upper thighs. His skin had taken on a nice rosy glow, but even from a distance, Harte could see that the marks wouldn’t last long. He noticed another man in a bright gold vest standing off to one side, observing everything that happened there. Though he stood impassively with his arms crossed over his chest, his facial expression was a bit troubled. Years of observing people let Harte recognize the uneasiness in the other man.

Indicating the watcher with his chin, he slid a glance toward Jason. “Who’s that?”

“Dungeon Monitor. He’ll make sure everything’s in order.”

“He doesn’t like what’s happening there. Look at his face.”

“Hmmm…” Jason studied the other man then turned his attention back to the other Dom and Ramey. “Damn. He’s not pulling his strokes. Ramey’ll be bruised tomorrow.”

On the Dom’s next stroke, Ramey shouted, “Blanket!”

Jason tossed the leash in his hand to Harte, throwing a quick “Stay here,” over his shoulder as he and the monitor guy moved into the open space behind the scene. Harte wasn’t sure if that command had been directed at him or the leashed man kneeling at his side.

Jason grabbed the flogger before the Dom could land another blow and Harte saw the Monitor move to Ramey’s side, touching his shoulder and speaking quietly to him. Jason’s hand on the Dom’s heaving chest kept him in place as the monitor unfastened Ramey from the shackles.

“He was wrapping.” The quietly spoken words from the man kneeling at his side tore Harte’s attention from Ramey.

“Master Blake was wrapping the flogger. It hurts.” The sub at his side glanced up at him, then turned his attention back to Jason.

“Wrapping? That means the flaps went around Ramey’s body, right?”

The guy nodded without taking his gaze off Jason and Ramey. Harte turned his attention back to them too. Jason and the monitor were talking to the Dom who had been flogging Ramey. He shook his head but handed the flogger to Jason and turned to walk away.

Ramey walked gingerly at Jason’s side, keeping his gaze on the floor. His chest heaved and sweat streamed down his body. He looked up once as he and Jason drew near, and the surprised pleasure in his gaze caused Harte to smile. He let his own gaze roam down the other man’s body and saw his cock twitch at Harte’s attention. Jason had clipped the leash back to the plain silver chain collar around Ramey’s neck and now he held it out toward Harte.

“I’m putting Ramey in your care for now. I promised Leo time in the stocks.” Jason patiently held the leash out to Harte until he took it, trading it for the leash around Leo’s neck.

“Ramey?”

Waiting until the other man looked at him, Jason stared hard at his face. “Be safe, and you are not to leave the club tonight without Leo and me, understood?”

“Yes Sir.” Ramey dropped his gaze again as Jason led his sub away.

Harte watched them for a moment then turned his gaze back to Ramey. “You look like you could use some water.”

“Yes, please, Sir.” Harte led Ramey back to the bar. It felt weird but strangely right to have the other man walking slightly behind him. Stopping at the bar, he caught the same female bartender’s attention and asked for a glass of water.

When she brought it to him, he turned to hand it to Ramey, then hesitated. Remembering the other Dom, he touched Ramey’s chin to bring his head up, then held the glass to his lips.

Ramey took a sip then met his eyes over the glass. Harte felt his breath catch as the other man took what he offered, no, what he provided. He felt his whole body swell, felt his chest puffing out and his cock filling out.

Ramey needed him, needed him to take care of him. In that moment, everything Master Thomas had told him on the phone, everything Jason had tried to tell him over coffee, everything came together as though someone had flipped a switch in his head. Harte smiled for the first time that night.

Ramey dared another glance at Harte as he sipped the water Harte held out for him.

Though he’d agreed to the scene with Master Blake, he’d been seeing Harte in his head. Now to have the other man standing right in front of him, caring for him, he wanted to shout, laugh and cry all at once. When Harte pulled the glass away, Ramey went to his knees, head bowed and hands palm up on his knees.

“Sir?”

“Speak, Ramey.” Hearing his name on Harte’s lips made his cock jump again. It had been hard since about the third blow from the flogger and had flagged a bit as he’d been taken off the St. Andrew’s cross. Now it was harder than ever and slightly painful under the G-string he wore.

“Sir, if you haven’t already chosen for the evening, I am yours.” Lifting his head without permission, but needing to see his reaction, Ramey smiled at the expression on Harte’s gorgeous tough face. His eyes had widened slightly and he looked shocked and excited at the same time. Then he schooled his features and cupped Ramey’s chin.

Harte’s hand was warm, slightly calloused and strong as he held Ramey’s face still. “You want me to use one of those flogger things on you?”

“If it pleases you. Or a paddle if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“Ramey, you have to know I’ve never done this before.”

“But you’re a Dom, Sir. There’s no doubt in my mind that you are. I’m willing to be with you as you learn.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in me, Ramey.”

“Trust, Sir. I trust you not to harm me, to meet my needs and allow me to meet yours.”