Saturday, they headed into Manhattan. Dom was pleasantly sore from yet another round of Adrian fucking him deep into the mattress, and each step reminded him of that odd juxtaposition of fierceness and tenderness Adrian possessed. The orders and control and the soft questions that asked for consent.
Zavier was right about Adrian being a good man. And Dom had been right when, in Zavier and Ray’s house, he’d said he might fall in love. There was nothing for him to catch, no way to stop the plummeting fall he felt in his stomach every time Adrian smiled, or when Adrian had read clips of interesting news from his tablet while they’d shared homemade pancakes that morning.
“There’s a photography exhibition a friend told me about. Said some of her work was in it.” There was something sly about the way Adrian said that, about his smile that made Dom’s blood heat. They ended up in Chelsea at a gallery that was eerily close to the photography studio the band had marched into from the recording studio on Thursday.
Which seemed so very far away now. A dream, even. Domino’s snarls and smirks. Giving the camera the finger. All of it.
They had to let their eyes adjust when they entered the gallery. Even with powerful lights illuminating the photographs hanging on the walls, the brilliant summer sun and clear blue day had been brighter by far. And when Dom blinked away the sun, he was struck blind again—mentally.
The photographs, the whole exhibition, were pictures of skin and rope and leather. None explicit. All erotic. Adrian handed him a postcard with that same damned smile.
Strength in Submission, the glossy page read, with details of the photographer, Det Newhar, plus two of their works. “You know the photographer?”
“This is the first time I’ve seen their work,” Adrian said. “Though I did design a website for them.”
That was interesting. “You design websites?”
“Freelance, for the right people. Started doing that in California for extra cash. And I like the creativity.” Adrian pulled Dom to a wall of photographs, sepia in tone. Dark skin—a masculine chest—with leather across it and a sheen of sweat. Another with a cuffed hand, the side of a face, eyes hidden by fingers, but lips parted, almost as with a sigh.
Beautiful. Heart-stopping. Dom wanted to see those eyes. Hear if that was a moan or a breath. Know what the person captured—both on camera and by leather—had felt. His heart hammered against his chest. At the same time, he knew exactly the emotion. Felt them so viscerally, he trembled.
Adrian put his arm over Dom’s shoulder, pulled him closer, and the shaking stopped.
“Do I...”
“Yes,” Adrian said, answering the unasked question.
Yes, Dom looked like that when cuffed. He swallowed. “Oh.”
Adrian’s arm slipped off Dom’s shoulder and his hand touched the small of his back. “Come see my friend’s work.”
He was drawn deeper into the gallery. The photos showed more here, out of the view of the street. Breasts, nipples, the hint of pussy and cock. Heat burned through Dom slowly, not in his balls or dick, but deeper. In his gut and soul. His mind.
All the men and women in these photographs were tied with rope. Lengths and lengths. Cords over flesh, pressing in. Restraining. Beautiful designs of knots and lengths, of arms and legs and torsos.
Dom could barely breathe. The beauty, the serenity. The strength, too, in those closed and opened eyes and mouths, those haunting faces, caught for a moment in something so profound Dom’s body itched as his mind cried out.
This. This. He wanted this. His skin under those knots. Bound. Caught. Safe.
“My friend Janelle’s work.” Adrian’s voice was reverent.
“Not the photos.” Dom could barely get the words out through his tight throat.
A nod. “The rope.”
“It’s...exquisite.” Dom moved closer to the photographs. They drew him like a magnet turned toward the north. Oh god, he ached and buzzed and needed.
Adrian followed, his hand still on Dom’s back, fingers brushing against where his shirt and jeans met. “I thought you might like them.”
That Dom might like the concept. This was—an offer.
“Can you do this?” Dom kept his voice low, a mere murmur.
Adrian heard anyway. “Not like she can. She knows bodies so well, she can suspend a submissive in the air by their bonds.”
Holy fuck. Dom tried to imagine that—being tied so tight and hanging above the ground—but his brain overloaded and he could only swallow a moan.
Those hot fingers caressed his back. “It’s something I want to learn. But I do know how to tie someone up.” Adrian skimmed a hand up to Dom’s neck. “I’d like to try something else first, because this—” He gestured at the photos. “This is a lot to process at once.”
Yeah, it had to be. “That’s...yes. I want this. But yes. I trust you.”
Adrian turned his face and kissed him with that heady mix of hard and soft. Control and giving. When he opened space between them, he smiled. “Is there any one of these you want?”
It took Dom a moment to realize what Adrian meant. “You don’t have to buy me one of these.”
A shrug and a grin. “But I want to. And they’re not that expensive.”
They weren’t, really. Not for what they were. Heck, he’d dropped far more than two hundred on single pieces of art for his house. Still. “Adrian.”
“Dominic,” he countered. “I can afford it.” His finger shot up to tap Dom’s lips. “And I’m guessing you can, too. If there’s one you want, let me do this.”
In the end, Dom chose one of a man’s legs, bound by a web of rope, his stomach and a hint of his swollen dick visible. A swirl of ink, just a few lines, swept over his hip. Adrian paid, a little red dot was placed by the placard, and they were told when they could come claim their purchase.
As they shook hands with the gallery owner, the door opened and a smooth, lilting voice called out Adrian’s name. A woman entered, elegant and tall and stunning. Black hair, dark eyes, and deep brown skin.
Adrian started when he saw her, and a smile broke out on his face, one that was comfortable, but not the sunshine Dom saw when Adrian smiled for him. He was grateful for that and also itchy at how much he was grateful.
Relief that he didn’t have to be jealous was overshadowed by the fact that he would have been. He was head over heels in love with Adrian.
“Janelle.” Adrian took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “I had no idea you’d be here.”
Janelle. The woman who could suspend people in nothing but rope. Excitement, desire, and embarrassment flared. Dom’s cheeks warmed and he hoped he wasn’t blushing too badly.
“Same, though it’s always a pleasure to see you.” They parted, and Janelle peered at Dom. “And this is...?”
“Dominic,” Dom said, voice shaking slightly. And yeah, he was blushing. “I’m Adrian’s—” Boyfriend? Lover? Submissive? What was he to Adrian?
Thankfully, Adrian filled in the gap. “This is the gentleman I’ve been seeing.”
Gentleman. That was a far cry from Domino. And yet, also not. Perfect. It was kind of perfect. Adrian’s gentleman.
His face heated even more. “We bought one of your photographs,” he blurted out. “Well, I guess not your photographs, but...” Dom waved his hand and closed his mouth. God, he was babbling.
Adrian’s hand slid to the small of Dom’s back, warm and soothing. “Your rope work is masterful, as always.”
“Flattery. Det’s artistry always makes mine look better.” Her smile was warm, and directed at Dom. “But I am glad you appreciate it.” She returned her gaze to Adrian. “And if you ever wish to learn more, my door is always open for you and your gentleman.”
Fire up Dom’s spine. His cheeks must be glowing by now. Maybe his whole face. He kept his mouth closed, because who knew what would come out of his brain now?
Again, Adrian took the lead. He nodded deferentially. “Thank you for the offer.”
She touched Adrian on the arm. “Good to see you, Adrian.” She held out her hand for Dom to take, which he did. “And a pleasure to meet you, Dominic. But I don’t wish to keep either of you from your day.” She gave him a gentle squeeze, then let go before slipping past them into the other room of the gallery.
When they stepped back out into the bright day, Dom’s world had rearranged itself again. “That—did she really mean that?”
“Janelle doesn’t offer to teach to just anyone.” Adrian glanced at the gallery door for a moment. “Yes, she meant that.”
“Wow. Do you—? Would you—?” Dom shivered, despite the warmth of the day.
“Janelle is an excellent teacher, and yes, I would, if you were willing. But I think we should wait on that, until you’re sure you are.”
He was pretty damn sure he wanted that. The rope, the binding. To hang in the air. “The whole exhibit was amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Adrian’s grin was nearly as bright as the sun.
Yeah, and there was that hint of devil in the glint of Adrian’s eyes. “What do you have planned for me?”
“Something for tomorrow. To settle you before you return to your week.”
Before he stepped back into his life and out of Adrian’s. Dom glanced down the street toward that other studio, the one that smelled of makeup and people and lights. Where Ray had laughed, Zavier had smiled, and Mish had danced on heels that had been pencil-thin.
He couldn’t even envision Domino tied up like the men and women in those photos. How could he have both these things?
Adrian touched his cheek, his smile dimming. “I wish you would tell me.”
Dom’s whole being snapped back, and he looked into Adrian’s eyes. “You said there were secrets we could keep.”
Adrian nodded and rubbed a thumb over Dom’s chin. “I did. I meant it.”
“I can’t yet.” Might not be able to in the long run.
Another nod. “Let’s go get some ice cream, then.”
Adrian didn’t bring it up again. Just held Dom’s hand as they bought cones and walked the streets and sat on the giant boulders in Central Park. Kissed his neck and mouth when they rode the subway back to Brooklyn, fed him another amazing meal, then made love to him in the bed Dom was rapidly starting to think of as theirs.
“I think we really are dating,” he whispered into the darkened room once they’d finally slipped under the sheets to sleep.
Adrian’s chuckle vibrated against Dom’s back. Hands slid over Dom’s arms. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Me, too.” A far cry from wanting to turn and run. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing at all.
* * *
It wasn’t until the afternoon on Sunday that Adrian followed up on his “something” comment, and it came after a long walk around Brooklyn after a breakfast out.
By the time they’d returned, they were both hot and sticky and had climbed the stairs to Adrian’s master bath for a shower—ostensibly to cool down—which did nothing of the sort due to Adrian’s hands and mouth and hard body sliding against Dom’s.
Dom was breathless and hard by the time they were through. “I need another shower after that one.”
Adrian shut off the water. “I think you’re fine for what comes next.”
Like lightning through him, like the feel of his calluses running up guitar strings before the sound of a thousand people. “Yeah? And what comes next?”
“A little something I want to try—to see if you enjoy it.” Adrian grabbed a towel and tossed another at Dom.
“You have me curious.” He dried off and followed Adrian into the bedroom.
Adrian had already pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans. “I’d like you naked, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Naked while Adrian was dressed. This was sounding better and better. “I’m fine with that.”
When he looked over, Adrian’s gaze was fire-hot. “You are absolutely fine.” He grabbed a simple white tee and donned it, then rooted in a drawer Dom had not seen him open before. From it he pulled bundles of rope and a black sash. He looked in again, but grunted and kneed the drawer shut. “These will do.”
Dom couldn’t stop staring at the rope. “I thought you said...”
“Oh, I intend to tie you up, Dominic. Just not as completely as you saw in those photos.” Adrian paused and smiled, hot and wicked. “Not yet, anyway.”
Dom shivered then heated then shivered again. “I—okay.”
Adrian nodded at the door. “Follow me.”
They returned downstairs to the living room, and Dom glanced at the spot where they’d started this weekend. Couch looked none the worse for wear. Score one for that stain guard.
Adrian dumped his handful of rope bundles and the sash onto the couch. “Would you like me to tell you exactly what I’m going to do, or would you rather just experience it?”
“Is it gonna end with your cock down my throat?”
Adrian snorted and shook his head. “No, not this time.”
Dom stuck out his lip in a mock pout, then considered. “I think—just do it. Whatever you intend. I—trust you. And you’re really not into that whole pain thing, as far as you’ve said.”
“No, I’m not a sadist, really. And, tattoos aside, I don’t think you’re all that masochistic.”
“I mean, I like when you fuck me hard.”
“Well, so do I, but that comes from a different place than, say, you wanting me to flog you until you have welts. Or vice versa.”
Dom knew people enjoyed that and didn’t have a problem with the concept, in theory. He just didn’t want to be on the practice end of it. “Yeah, that doesn’t really excite me.”
“But rope...” Adrian picked up a bundle. It was black and looked soft and strong. “The thought of rope over that lovely skin of yours makes you moan in galleries.”
“Just one,” Dom murmured. “You only took me to one.”
Adrian closed in and sipped a slow kiss that felt like a cool breeze. “Turn around, Dominic.”
He did, and Adrian arranged his arms in a particular manner, behind his back and stacked but not uncomfortably so, then started coiling rope around them. The first touch of the soft fiber had him sucking in a breath. When he felt the pressure of it against his skin, he stifled a moan.
Adrian kissed the nape of his neck. “I’d rather hear you, Dominic. I want to know what this is doing to you.”
“It’s—oh god, Adrian.” He couldn’t even describe how his heart was racing or his mind tumbling. He was hard, but he didn’t want to be fucked, not now. He wanted—more. “Please keep going.”
A deep rumble of pleasure, and then there was more looping and tugging and that amazing sensation of his arms being tied together. He couldn’t see what Adrian was doing, but oh god, did he feel it. And since Adrian wanted to hear—Dom moaned and gasped and shivered and swayed.
“You’re going to kneel soon, but this is a little easier from this angle.”
Dom didn’t care. He’d stay upright if he had to, or fall to the floor if that worked. It was like alcohol. Or the stage. Only quiet and close and so, so safe. “Adrian,” he whispered. “Yes.”
A huff of breath at his back, then another kiss. “Kneel for me, Dominic.”
He did, and once more, Adrian positioned his body, shifting him so he knelt sideways against the couch, his ass on his heels. “Just in case you need to tip over.”
His whole body was a live wire. “I thought this was supposed to calm me down before I go?”
Adrian peered down and ran a finger under his chin. “Oh ye of little faith.” Then he was on the floor, too, kneeling behind Dom, and there was rope around Dom’s ankle. Oh god.
This—was better than the stage. Fuck. “Adrian!” He heard the panic in his voice.
Everything halted. “I’m here, babe. You need me to stop? Cut you free?”
“No, no. Don’t cut.” He sucked in a breath, then another. “It’s just...” This was gonna change him. Like Domino changed him. Like when he picked up a guitar for the first time. When the first chord he played had echoed through the air.
“Talk to me, babe.” Concern. Caring. All the things he wanted, wrapped in Adrian’s shaking voice.
“It’s a lot.” He swallowed, and his chest loosened. “You were right. I just want this so much.”
A kiss to his shoulders, then another and another. “Let me know if you need me to pause.”
When the tugging and pulling started again, that same headiness came, the sense life was turning and shifting and repositioning, even as the bonds drew tighter. Then his arms were tugged down slightly.
To his ankles. His arms were tied to his ankles. The realization was like ice water flowing over him—then there was calm and quiet, but for Adrian’s breathing and a faint buzzing in Dom’s blood. He tugged a little. Squirmed. But no—he really was tied down. “Oh.”
“That’s all the bonds, all the rope, for tonight,” Adrian said.
Yeah, Dom didn’t know if he could take more—not at first—because his mind was still caught and circling and full of light and heat, even if his body was relaxing and melting.
“There’s one more thing I’d like to try.” Adrian held out the sash. “I’d like you to focus on feeling. I want to cover your eyes.”
A blindfold. Dom shifted, and was reminded that he was bound and kneeling before Adrian—and there wasn’t a way he could free himself. He looked up into those hazel eyes and nodded.
Adrian took off Dom’s glasses, then once more stepped behind him. Darkness descended as the cloth stole his sight. Two tugs, and the blindfold was tight around his head.
Bound, blindfolded. But not gagged.
“If you need out, say the word.” Adrian’s touch skimmed over Dom’s shoulders, raising goose bumps. The couch next to him moved and groaned—Adrian must have sat. Fingers in Dom’s hair. Smoothing, brushing. “You look exquisite, Dominic.”
He felt—he felt like he was floating. Swimming. Swinging through air. It was heaven, without a touch of hell. Adrian’s touch was a lifeline, keeping him safe and secure. He nodded his head forward—and yes, there was Adrian’s warm thigh. He sighed and sagged against it.
A warm hand cupped the back of his neck. “Babe.”
Yeah. He was that, too.
He had no idea how long they remained like that, him bound and blindfolded, resting against Adrian, who sat quietly, occasionally running his fingers through Dom’s hair. Murmuring words of encouragement and support that trickled off Dom like water from an umbrella. Everything was sweetness and light.
He loved this. And strangely, Domino might love this, too. This—yeah. He could see himself, see Domino like this. Maybe even at Adrian’s feet.
A yawning chasm opened up—hope and despair—but he didn’t fall. He just...floated above it. Watching. Until it slid closed again.
All the while, Adrian touched and soothed and crooned.
Dom knew, though, the instant the end of the night began.
Adrian sighed, and it was resigned. Then he shifted, his weight pitching toward Dom. “It’s time,” he whispered.
And—that was okay. Dom had expected loss or sadness or—something. But the calm remained, even when Adrian lifted the blindfold free.
“How was that?” He cupped Dom’s face.
Dom leaned into the touch, but didn’t close his eyes. Adrian’s were too full of hope and wonder to turn away from. “Perfect. I never knew...” He huffed a laugh. “You were right about calming me down.”
He wasn’t hard anymore, and though his body ached from the past weekend’s activities, his soul felt rested. Clear of the anxiety that usually plagued it whenever he wasn’t onstage in the middle of a show or in a bed in the middle of orgasm.
“There are ways I could excite you, too. But I think we both needed this.”
“You—you liked it, too?” It hadn’t occurred to him, but of course. The books had said—
Such a profound flicker of emotion over Adrian’s face. “I loved it,” he said, and his voice was deep. “More than anything, this trust is—a gift.”
Dom’s heart shuddered and swelled, because he’d heard the words Adrian hadn’t spoken. Maybe he hadn’t even thought them yet, but they were there nonetheless. Oh, oh god.
But he still floated, right over that pit and safely to the other side before the panic could even touch him. “I’m—yeah. That’s really good. Because I shouldn’t be the only one getting something out of this.”
“You’re not, believe me.” Adrian seemed to search for words, then shook his head. “Thank you.” Lips skimmed his. “Thank you for every moment together.”
“For all the ones to come.” Dom meant that, because he wanted those moments, too.
Adrian untied him and helped him to his feet, then handed him his glasses. Dom slid back into his clothes and his life. But this weekend’s kisses by the door weren’t full of worry or longing. “You free next weekend?”
Adrian took his mouth again, then after another sweet taste of lips answered. “Yes. For all the foreseeable weekends, too. But for some of them I’d like you to pick what we do. Where we go.”
“I can do that.” And would soon. Show Adrian what he could of the man he was.
The summer evening was warm and perfect, and Dom hummed one of their new songs as he headed back to his place, head high and heart soaring even higher.
Maybe he could be both the men he wanted to be.