How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps Page 2

  Jeff nodded approvingly. He’d come to this BDSM thing relatively late in life, after suppressing all those urges for most of his twenties while he was with Sarah. But after Sarah moved out last summer, all bets were off. Luckily, Niall had been around to help him through that whole readjustment period, and when Jeff admitted he was interested in the lifestyle, Niall had taken him along to the local fetish social club to meet others. Well, he’d called it a club. Really it was just a bunch of weirdos who met up in a pub in Frome once a month. Nothing exciting going on, unless you had a fetish for overpriced beer.

  Unfortunately for Jeff, he just didn’t fancy any of the women Niall had introduced him to so far, and to be honest, it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Why couldn’t they just leave their bodies alone, rather than marking them with all those tattoos? Jeff wanted to be the one to leave marks on their skin and stick needles into them. If someone else had been their first, it was off-putting. And kind of intimidating too, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

  After a couple of spectacularly unsuccessful dates with women he’d met through Niall, Jeff tried a different tactic. But introducing kink into dates with the vanilla women he met through a local dating agency had proved disastrous. He’d tried suggesting it in conversation over dinner several times, but quickly learnt that most birds looked at you like you were one sick puppy if you admitted that what really turned you on was the idea of hurting them. Yep, he’d had a fair few dates that ended in women running away and telling him to lose their phone numbers. One had even done that before he got to the kinky bit of the conversation, saying he was a rude arsehole. All he’d done was tell her that the frilly dress she was wearing made her look like an old-fashioned doll, and that she’d be sexier in something sleek and tight. Honestly, women could be so bloody sensitive sometimes.

  He’d tried waiting until he got them in bed too—after all, people went on these dates for a shag, didn’t they? Even the women did, despite pretending they were after friendship rather than sex. Unfortunately, Jeff had discovered that most normal-looking women ran a mile when you started calling them a dirty bitch and pinching their tits. Probably Jeff should have waited till the second date before starting on all that, but then again, he hadn’t wanted to waste time and effort on dating someone who wasn’t going to share his special interests.

  But if Niall had found someone perfect for him…

  “Come on, spill the beans. You got a picture of her? I don’t want some goth girl. You promised me natural hair colour and no tattoos. Or at least just a small butterfly or something.”

  “Eddie has completely natural hair and just one very small tattoo. No piercings either, so you’re safe there. Pretty fit too. Works out regularly.” Niall’s smile was still odd.

  “What’s the catch? There has to be one. She’s not a real doormat is she?” Wet and clingy just wasn’t his thing. Jeff might find some women way too intimidating, but the opposite was no more appealing. “Come on, what’s she like?”

  “Other than being a very experienced and kinky painslut? Eddie’s a graphic designer. Pretty successful. Own business, own place. Good sense of humour. Fun.”

  “Sounds perfect. Where’s she been hiding all my life? You got a picture of her? And what’s Eddie short for? Edwina?”

  “Edmund.”

  “Edmund? Jesus, some parents are so fucking cruel. Edmund isn’t a unisex name, is it?”

  “No, but then again, Edmund isn’t a girl.”

  What the fuck? “Niall, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying Edmund is a very nice young masochist with years of experience, and he’s willing to let you hone your Dom skills on him. You can practice all kinds of pain and sensation play, humiliate him, tie him up, stick things up his arse, whatever. He’ll do just about anything. I’m not saying he’s got no limits, but I don’t know that anyone’s ever managed to get close to them.”

  “I am not having sex with a man.”

  “Who said anything about sex? BDSM is more about the power play than getting your rocks off.”

  “For you, maybe. For me, it’s about sex.”

  Niall shook his head. “You’re missing the whole point of it, but you’ll learn over time.”

  “You know you can be a right patronising git sometimes, don’t you?”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  Jeff smiled reluctantly. It was hard to be mad at someone who’d just bought you a bottle of booze, even if it was something sickly sweet.

  But that still didn’t change the way he felt about this Eddie fella. “Look, I appreciate the offer and all, but I need a female sub. End of story. There’s no way I’m whipping some bloke’s arse. It just wouldn’t feel right.”

  “You sure? I’d have thought you’d be better able to concentrate on learning how to do things properly if you weren’t ridiculously turned on. You know, your little brain has a way of overpowering your big one. Not that it puts up much of a fight.”

  “You saying I’m thick?”

  Niall punched him in the arm. “You said it. Not me.”

  Jeff glared at his former friend.

  “Oh, all right,” Niall relented. “You’re not thick. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been out of the game for so long, but you act like an oversexed predator when you’re chatting women up. Way too sexually aggressive too fast. You’ve got to learn to tone it down. Act more like you’re in control. No sub’s going to feel safe with an out-of-control Dom.”

  “I am in control!”

  “That’s not what Gwen’s been saying. Believe me, your name is mud right now.”

  “Cheeky mare.” Jeff could have a few choice words to say about her gossiping, but since he really didn’t want to rehash the whole embarrassing incident, he kept his mouth shut.

  “So, you want to meet Eddie? Just to talk. See how you feel after that.”

  “Not particularly. I’m not gay, so chatting with the bloke isn’t going to make any difference, is it?”

  “What am I going to do with you, eh?” Niall sighed and took hold of Jeff’s empty cup. “All right, then. Have it your way. But I’m warning you, I don’t think any of the girls round here are going to want to have anything to do with you. They’ve been chatting about you on Fetlife. You know how fast gossip spreads there. You’re going to need to set up a new profile and start over.”

  Fuck. Ah well. What did Jeff need that stupid bloody site for anyway? It wasn’t like he’d had any luck approaching women there either. This whole bloody thing was getting too complicated. All he wanted to do was submit a normal-looking woman to erotic torture and then shag the living daylights out of her. Was that really too much to ask? Jeff glowered at the paving slabs he’d been laying.

  “Well, if some bloke is the best you can do, I think I’d better get back to work. Hey, you want me to tidy up any of the plants after I’ve finished? That shrubbery’s got well out of hand. Gardens don’t just look after themselves, you know. Really, one this size needs a day a week putting into just maintaining it.”

  Niall waved distractedly. “Yeah, fine. If you want the job, it’s yours.” He turned to the house. “Better go. I’ve got a visitor to entertain. Just give us a knock when you’re leaving.”

  Chapter Three

  Eddie had watched the conversation between Niall and Jeff with interest, wishing all the while he could lip-read. Jeff was doing the whole macho posturing thing, folding his arms so his biceps bulged, and while he wasn’t as tall as Niall, you could see how easily he could intimidate him. However, Niall acted totally unimpressed by it all. You could tell they’d been friends for years.

  “He’s not interested,” Niall said when he entered the kitchen. “Sorry, mate.”

  Damn. “Are you sure he couldn’t be persuaded? So far I’m liking what I see.”

  Niall shook his head, grinning. “I doubt you’ll still be feel
ing that way once you’ve met him. The man’s as stubborn as a mule and just as likely to kick. Honestly, you won’t be able to teach him anything. Thinks he knows it all already. He just told me there was no point in BDSM without sex.”

  Eddie rubbed his hands together. “Sounds like my kind of man. I can’t see the point in it if I don’t get off. It’s so bloody irritating when you meet a hot Top who won’t even let you get hard, let alone come. If I wanted to spend my time acting like a servant with no sexual reward in sight, I’d have got a job as a flight attendant. Actually, that’s not a very good analogy. They probably get loads of cock.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of delayed orgasm,” Maddy chipped in.

  “There’s nothing right with it either.”

  “Well, yes, but so long as you do finally get to come, it can make it all the sweeter. Mind you, I’m not into all pain and no gain. I’ve got to come eventually. I’m with you there, darling.”

  Niall threw his hands up in the air. “Oh God, not you too! There used to be a code, you know. Protocols and so on. Now it seems like everyone’s just in it for the pervy thrills.” Maddy rolled her eyes while her boyfriend gave his little speech, and Eddie had to fight not to laugh.

  “Well, yeah. I am a pervert after all,” Eddie said. “And I don’t see what the problem is, anyway. He wants kinky sex; I want kinky sex. He’s a sadist; I’m a masochist. It’s like we’re meant to be together. A match made in heaven and all that bollocks.”

  “Don’t forget he’s straight, and you’re a man,” Maddy added.

  Eddie shrugged. “I’ve had straight blokes before. Get ’em in the right head-space and they stop caring about where they’re sticking their dicks. It’s all just warmth and friction, and one hole feels much the same as another. So I’m told, anyway.”

  “I can get that it might feel the same,” Maddy said, “But it’s not going to look the same, is it?”

  “He can always close his eyes.”

  “Why don’t you go and tell him that, then?” Maddy grinned like there was something amusing about the idea, but really, it was the logical next step. Eddie would be able to do a much better job of convincing this grumpy gardener than Niall could. In fact, he’d be doing Jeff a favour. Giving him a different perspective on BDSM. Niall was probably filling his head with all kinds of rubbish. For God’s sake, Niall had a ponytail. What kind of role model was that for a Top?

  “Okay, I’m going.” He rubbed his hands together and walked to the doors. “Wish me luck.”

  “Break a leg,” Maddy called out cheerfully. “Oh, and pick some rosemary while you’re out there, would you? I could use some for lunch. There’s a few bushes growing down near where Jeff’s working.”

  “Rosemary, rosemary, rosemary,” Eddie muttered to himself, walking along by the flowerbed. He thought it would be easy enough to spot, as his stepmum’s farmhouse kitchen had tiles with a botanical illustration of a sprig of it scattered between the plain ones, but nothing out in Niall’s overgrown flowerbeds resembled the piney-looking twigs with the blue flowers he had etched into his memory.

  He was drawing closer and closer to Jeff. Maybe he could just forget about the herbs and start chatting to his future Top instead. Although it could make a good icebreaker… “Hi,” he called out cheerfully. Jeff straightened up from whatever it was he was doing with a stone slab and peered at him with a suspicious expression.

  Okay, so not the most promising start, but Eddie wasn’t about to let it break his stride. “Maddy sent me out for some rosemary. I don’t suppose you’ve seen any, have you? She said there was some down here somewhere.”

  Jeff squinted at him. “Look down.”

  Eddie’s nerves thrilled at the gruff order. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re bloody well trampling the stuff right now. Surprised you can’t smell it.”

  Eddie looked down to discover he was indeed standing next to a low bush covered in dark green, needlelike leaves. No little blue flowers, though. “Huh, is this it?” He leaned down and plucked a sprig, then lifted it to his nose. “Can’t smell much. Are you sure this is the right plant?”

  “Rub it between your fingers.”

  Eddie did as he was ordered, and the most delightful scent drifted into his nostrils. “Oh my God, I’m getting flashbacks to Sunday lunch at my dad’s place. It’s gorgeous. My stepmum cooked a mean roast lamb.”

  Jeff grunted and turned back to his stone slabs.

  Okay, so not the most adept at small talk. Good thing Eddie could talk enough for the both of them. “You any good at cooking?”

  Jeff gave him a “what’s it to you?” kind of glare.

  “Okay, so I’ll admit it, I’m a total disaster when it comes to the kitchen. How much do you think I need?”

  “Didn’t Maddy tell you?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking if she had.”

  Jeff sighed and let the slab fall—thud—onto the lawn. “What’s she making?”

  “Just some roast spuds I think. Something veggie, anyway.”

  Jeff pulled a face like he didn’t consider veggie food to be worth his time, but he took a step closer and bent down to the rosemary bush. He brushed through the branches, tutting disapprovingly. “This needs a bloody good pruning, and I don’t expect Niall’s going to bother. A place like this is wasted on a bloke like him.”

  “He’s not the gardening type, then?”

  “Hardly. Never understood why rich folk want these massive gardens if they don’t actually enjoy working in them. Now if this were mine, I’d be out here every day, rain, sleet or snow.”

  Jeff straightened and looked around, his eyes glowing with something like artistic appreciation. It was the look clients got when Eddie had wowed them with one of his designs. The moment when they realised the potential it had.

  “I bet you have a great garden yourself, then,” Eddie said.

  Jeff smiled wistfully. “It’s nice enough. Nowhere near as big as this one, though. If I ever win the lottery…” His voice drifted off, and Eddie had to wonder what dreams were filling his head. Jeff dressed and sounded like your perfectly average local straight bloke. But he didn’t look like Eddie had expected. He was far more striking, what with his strong features and the dark stubble just starting to shade his jaw. And better yet, a pair of remarkable deep brown eyes, along with lips that veered on the side of plump rather than thin. If Jeff was a kisser, that could only be a good thing. Oh God, and his nose was just that little bit out of kilter. Broken? It certainly made him look tough. Eddie shivered. Why did the rough-looking ones always do it for him?

  But aside from Jeff’s good looks, he really didn’t seem in any way out of the ordinary. There was a west-country twang to his vowels, and he wouldn’t stand out if you saw him down the pub during a football game. Well, he might in the overalls with all that dirt on his hands, but in jeans and a T-shirt he’d be totally unremarkable. He was even a good few inches shorter than Eddie, although at six two, he was kind of used to that. Besides, being tall didn’t make any difference to how well you could dole out pleasure and pain. Eddie let his gaze drift over Jeff’s body, checking out the broad shoulders and hairy, thickly muscled arms and legs. Yeah, the man looked like he could dole out a good beating in terms of strength, and the way he’d handled the rosemary promised dexterity and finesse. All Jeff needed was the right training, and Eddie was just the man to do it.

  He lifted his gaze to meet Jeff’s, only to find his eyes now narrowed. Uh-oh. Had he been a bit too obvious in his appraisal? He had to remember he wasn’t at a club. He was in a back garden, with a straight bloke who didn’t even know who Eddie was yet.

  Jeff handed over a sprig of rosemary. “Reckon you’ll need another couple of these. I should be getting back to work.”

  “Cheers. Much appreciated.” Eddie smiled his best charming-the-clients smile and stuck out hi
s hand. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Eddie Powell. Good to meet you.”

  “Jeff White.” Jeff stuck out his hand, which Eddie grabbed hold of quickly, and Eddie watched as delayed recognition of Eddie’s name dawned on his face. Jeff’s eyes widened in alarm, then narrowed down, and his expression set into hard, forbidding lines. But in between the alarm and the hostility, Eddie could have sworn he saw a flicker of interest. Perhaps not sexual interest—not yet—but Jeff was intrigued by Eddie. Or by what he represented. Whatever it was based on, Eddie could work with it. He always rejoiced when he saw that fleeting expression on a client’s face, knowing it might be a slog, but he’d be able to sell his work to them.

  And what was this if it wasn’t selling his work as a trainer? Yeah, a Top-trainer. Eddie liked the sound of that.

  “I think Niall’s already mentioned my offer to you.”

  Jeff folded his arms. “He has. And I told him where you could shove it.”

  “Excellent. I can see you’re thinking about anal play already. And if you decide to let me be your trainer, I’ll happily let you shove whatever you like up there, within reason. Nothing that could break apart and require a trip to the hospital to extract, and definitely no gerbils. Although to be honest, I’m not sure anyone’s actually ever done that. No one I know has ever admitted to it, anyway. And I’ve known some right perverts.”

  Jeff glared, like he was trying to vaporise Eddie through the power of his eyes. “I’m not gay,” he grunted.

  “Never said you were. Of course, if all you want to do is talk, I’m happy to do that too. Give you a painslut’s perspective on things. Or be a handy body for you to practice whipping and what have you. Doesn’t have to be anything sexual, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

  “Still not going to happen. I’ve got no interest in men.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. But sometimes that makes it easier to learn, doesn’t it? If you’re not distracted by lust. Much easier to concentrate on the technical aspects of a good flogging if you’re not getting excited by it. You know what I mean?”