What He Needs Page 2

  “So, Craig, what do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a concierge at a hotel down town, Sir.”

  “We’re not at the club anymore, Craig. You can call me Alan.”

  Craig nodded, and Alan watched as he sat a bit taller and reached for his water after it arrived. Some of the residual tension began to leave, but not the melancholy in his eyes which held firm. Alan found himself desperate to discover what Craig looked like when he smiled.

  “How long have you been at the hotel?”

  “Ten years.”

  Alan furrowed his brow. “Ten years? How old are you?”

  The corner of Craig’s lip turned up, it wasn’t even a smirk, but it was the closest thing Alan had seen to a smile, to any sort of amusement or happy emotion since he first laid eyes on him. “I’m twenty-three, but my uncle owns the hotel and I started young.”

  “Why?”

  Craig shrugged. “It was something to do, to be honest. My Mom died and my uncle took me in. I needed something to keep me busy during the summer because if I stopped to think too much…” Craig took a long drink of his water. “I started in the laundry room and worked my way up from there. So, Alan, what do you do at the club? I’m assuming you work there.”

  Alan forced a smile. “It’s mine.”

  Craig stopped moving. He blinked and paled a little, not that Alan would’ve thought that possible. “Yours?”

  “Mine.” Like you, Alan wanted to add, but didn’t. He wanted this boy. Wanted him with every part of his body, every bit of his soul felt attracted to Craig. Alan took a deep breath and opted for full disclosure. If Craig was going to open up to him, Alan would have to take that first step. “I purchased it with my partner twelve years ago. When we split up, I bought him out and now I run it alone.” Alone. Alan hated that word. He lived alone. Ran the club alone. Ate alone. Sure, he had friends and he used to do the odd scene with a sub now and then, but a handful of scattered scenes would never fulfil Alan. In fact, his last scene had ended early. He’d had a gorgeous little sub tied to a cross, but when it came time to pick up the flogger, Alan couldn’t. He’d felt completely unaffected by the sub and it stirred an emptiness inside him he still hadn’t been able to shake. That was months ago, and Alan had yet to try another scene.

  The cheeseburgers arrived, and the conversation halted as Craig eyed his burger. “This looks amazing.”

  Alan watched as Craig lifted the burger to his mouth and took a bite. Then Craig fucking moaned and Alan’s already interested cock twitched. He shifted and did his best to ignore his discomfort.

  They ate their burgers in silence, except for the occasional moan from Craig. If Alan didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn the kid was doing it on purpose. The idea that he might be pleased Alan to no end.

  Alan waited until they were both picking at their fries to bring up the subject of Paul and Tim.

  “So, Craig, do you care to explain what happened back there in the club?” Alan’s heart sank as he watched Craig shrink into himself. His shoulders rolled forward, and his gaze dropped to the floor. He started to reach for a fry, but then pulled a trembling hand back and tucked it down into his lap and out of sight.

  “Not really.”

  “Would it help if we were somewhere more private, boy?” Alan tacked the endearment onto the end of his question so Craig would know this conversation wasn’t an option. The only choice Craig had was where he felt comfortable having it.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’d suggest the club, but there tend to be interruptions. Would it be okay with you if we went back to my place?”

  Craig’s eyes lifted and met Alan’s and for a flash of a second they didn’t look quite as melancholy.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Three

  Craig

  When Craig set foot in the club earlier he never imagined running into Tim or anything that happened afterward. But if his not-so-awesome run-in with his ex got him to where he stood, inside Alan’s amazing house, he almost couldn’t complain.

  His heart hadn’t stopped jack-hammering since Alan had leaned forward a little in his seat at the restaurant. When Craig heard the words, my place come out of the man's mouth, he nearly whimpered. Alan was gorgeous. A few inches taller than Craig’s five foot eleven, compared to Craig’s slender form, Alan was broad. But what Craig liked the best were Alan’s blue eyes. He liked the crows feet that appeared at the corners when Alan smiled. When he’d been curled up with him at the club, he wanted to reach up and run his fingers through Alan’s dark hair to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  Alan’s fingers skimmed over Craig’s shoulders as he gently stripped him out of his jacket. Craig turned his head and glanced at Alan over his shoulder.

  “Let’s skip the grand tour for now and get right to it.”

  Craig’s breath hitched, and Alan grinned at him.

  “Coffee? Tea? Soda? I’m afraid I don’t drink, and I don’t often have company, so I don’t have any booze on hand.”

  “Tea would be fine, thank you, Sir.” Craig turned his head so Alan couldn’t see his face anymore. Alan seemed to like it when Craig called him Sir, but then again, what Dom didn’t like it? When Alan told Craig to use his name, he thought it might be strange, but it rolled off his tongue and it made his insides shiver in a funny delicious sort of way. Craig had the feeling that only certain people in Alan’s life got to use his name and he felt more than a little special at the thought that he might be one of those certain people. Even if it was only for one night.

  Craig took a seat on one of the tall stools at the counter and looked around at Alan’s home, what he could see of it from his location. It was a stunning home. Tall ceilings, nicely decorated, but not too nicely. It wasn’t a scary, cold, catalogue type place that made Craig afraid to touch anything. It was warm and inviting and rather homey, he thought.

  He watched Alan as he prepared a tray. First with a couple cups, then with a creamer and a sugar bowl. Finally, a teapot. And when the water was heated, Alan dropped a few bags into the pot and filled it with the hot water.

  “Follow me, we’ll have a seat in the den.”

  He followed behind Alan and watched him walk. He loved the way he moved, so graceful and methodical. Craig found himself admiring the way Alan’s ass flexed in his black slacks. His face flushed when Alan bent over and set the tray on a coffee table. The way Alan's muscles contracted when he bent reminded him of how good it felt to be in his arms.

  Alan turned his head and Craig felt his blush deepen. Part of him hoped Alan would pull him into his lap. He liked the way Alan’s arms felt when they wrapped around him, but being in the same room as Alan was a high in and of itself. He felt safe around him.

  A fantasy of what it could be like, to have everything he ever wanted, unfolded in a split second. He imagined Alan taking care of him the way he’d always wanted. Well, not always, but definitely since he stumbled across that blog. Something inside him clicked into place when he read the posts written by HisDaddysGoodBoy889. Alan was calm, but strong, and he made him feel safe. He could be the perfect Daddy.

  Craig snapped out of his daydream when Alan motioned to the large recliner opposite to the one he sat on. “Please, sit.”

  Craig all but scurried over to the chair and plopped into it. He clasped his hands in his lap to still them. He was fidgety by nature and it only became worse when he got nervous, or excited, or scared, or…okay, so maybe he was always a bit fidgety.

  Alan poured two cups of tea and Craig added a single spoon of sugar to his. He didn’t like things that were too sweet. Then he remembered that Alan didn’t bring him here for idle chit chat about his job or the weather. He wanted to know what went on in the club—his club. Craig almost snorted, but he did shake his head.

  “You look almost amused about something. Care to share, boy?” Alan’s tone was gentle and while Craig knew that he was a Dom and had already witnessed a scrap of his commanding Dom persona,
he didn’t doubt that Alan's gentle nature went all the way to his core.

  “I thought that it was a bit…funny, ironic I guess…I don’t like clubs.”

  “And yet you were in one tonight.”

  Craig shrugged. “It’s safer to meet someone who could…” he shrugged and brought his tea to his lips to cut off the rest of his sentence.

  “Who could what?”

  Craig inhaled and fought the urge to close his eyes. The hard edge was back to Alan’s voice as he switched into full on Dom mode. And be damned if Craig didn’t want to kneel at his feet and beg for anything the Dom was willing to give him. He took a breath and stared down into his tea as he answered. “Who could take care of me, Sir.”

  Craig waited and for a moment he thought for sure Alan would ask him exactly what it was he was looking for. But Alan took a drink of his tea and leaned back in his chair.

  “How do you know Paul and Tim?”

  Craig flinched and forced himself to take a deep breath. “Tim was my Dom, Sir.”

  Alan’s eyebrows rose up in shock, then crashed down in confusion. “Your Dom? He must be a switch then. What happened with you two?”

  “Truthfully. I don’t exactly know, Sir.” Craig took a sip of his tea, grateful he had it to cling to, to keep his hands busy. Taking a drink gave him time to pause and collect his thoughts while trying to tamp down the misery that still wanted to bubble out of him. “I came home a year and a half ago and he was gone. All his things, it was as if he was never even there to begin with. He quit his job and changed his number. He just…vanished.”

  Craig took a sip of his tea and willed himself not to fall apart again. Sobbing in Alan’s arms more than once on their first meeting was a few miles beyond the border of totally pathetic. “He left a note, but it didn’t explain much. Not really. I knew we were having problems, but I thought we’d have time to work on them.” He took a deep breath, and it shuddered out of him. “That’s how I know Tim, Sir. I have no idea who Paul is.”

  “Paul is his Dom.”

  Craig raised his gaze and met Alan’s. “I think he hates me, Sir.”

  “You’re likely right, but don’t take it personally. Paul doesn’t like anyone who has already had what he owns. Tell me, boy,” Alan set his mug down then leaned back again. “Do you miss him?”

  “Yes and no, Sir.”

  Alan’s mouth twitched. “Well, thanks for clearing that up.”

  Craig liked this new side of Alan. The gentle teasing helped to ease some of his distress. “Sometimes I miss him, usually when I forget that I shouldn’t miss someone who thought so little of me that they abandoned me with no warning and left only a shitty note to explain. Then I remember to be angry at him and I don’t miss him as much when I’m angry at him.”

  “Why did you come to my club tonight?”

  “Well, I certainly wasn’t looking for Tim, Sir.” Craig scoffed. “The one club I pick because we never went there and there wouldn’t be memories, and he’s right fucking there.” Craig flinched. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to swear.”

  Alan waved it off. “It’s okay, boy. I’d swear, too. But you still haven’t answered the question. Why did you come to the club?”

  Craig shut his eyes. He found it helped him say the things he had trouble saying if he could close his eyes and pretend that maybe the words weren’t coming out of his mouth. And if your eyes were closed, you never had to worry about seeing their reaction. “I’ve been alone for a long time, too long. I’m ready to move on. I wanted…I hoped to find someone to look after me, at least for a little while.”

  “So you went to my club, hoping to meet a Dom who would take one look at your tight little body and snatch you up. You were looking for someone to make you feel good and forget all about what’s-his-name?”

  It took Craig half a minute to get the words to whisper past his lips. “Yes, Sir.”

  “What if I told you that not only could I make you feel good, but that I could make you fly?”

  Craig’s head snapped up, and he caught the Dom’s heated gaze. His palms instantly got damp, and he set the mug on the coffee table in case he started shaking. “Sir?”

  “It would only be tonight, so I wouldn’t bother with a contract. I don’t have anything too heavy in mind, but you could tell me your safe word anyway, for the sake of protocol. I don’t make a habit of sleeping with my subs, so you don’t need to worry if I’m clean or not, we won’t be going that far.”

  “Let me see if I understand this, Sir. You want to do a scene with me, but not anything too intense, so you’re tossing out the need for a contract, because it’s only for tonight. You’re not going to fuck me and I’m assuming I’m not going to fuck you and you say you can make me feel good?”

  Alan nodded.

  For the first time in forever, Craig smiled. “Sounds perfect, Sir.”

  Alan rose to his feet and held his hand out to Craig. “Come with me.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Alan led him up the stairs and into a bedroom. He doubted that it was Alan’s room, it was furnished with a queen-sized bed and a dresser and had very few decorations and absolutely no personal touches.

  “I’ll be right back. While I’m gone, I want you to undress. You can fold your clothes and stack them on the dresser. Lay face down on the bed when you’re done.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The minute Alan was gone Craig whipped his shirt off. He folded it and placed it neatly on the dresser. He paused for a moment and questioned if he should be doing this or not, but Craig immediately brushed the thought aside. They were doing something light, something so light that they hadn’t even really discussed Craig’s limits. It sounded weird, but Alan owned a club, he doubted he could’ve ended up with a safer Dom…or at least with a Dom that made him feel as safe as Alan did.

  By the time Alan returned, Craig lay sprawled out on the bed, face down, as instructed. He heard Alan put some things down on the dresser, but he’d have to move to see exactly what, and he didn’t want to move. He wanted to please Alan.

  Alan sat on the edge of the bed and Craig did whimper this time when Alan swept his fingers through his hair.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen, boy. I’m going to blindfold you and I’m going to put earplugs in your ears. I’m going to take away those two senses and I want you to lie there and feel. You can make noise if you must, but you can’t talk unless you ask me to stop. If you need me to stop, say so and I will. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Alan’s hand swept down Craig’s spine and he did his best to lay still, but he arched up into Alan's touch, anyway. It had been so long since another man had touched him that he suddenly found himself knowing exactly what he’d been missing, and he felt starved for more.

  “Lift your head a little, that’s a good boy.”

  Craig lifted his head enough for Alan to get the blindfold in place. “Is that too tight?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “I’m going to put the plugs in your ears now. They won’t hurt, they’re soft and foamy. Okay, boy?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I promise, while you’re blindfolded and without your hearing that I will not leave this room.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Craig exhaled and found himself relieved that Alan promised not to leave him. It wasn’t like he was bound and unable to move, but he was under Alan’s control and he liked the reassurance that Alan wouldn’t leave him, even for a second.

  A moment later Craig was floating in a sea of nothing. His eyes were shut, but even if he opened them he’d see nothing but an inky darkness. His hearing was completely gone, but he knew Alan was still there, because he’d promised not to leave, and Craig trusted him in a way that a person probably shouldn’t trust an almost stranger.

  The first thing he felt was the bed dip as Alan climbed on. Then he straddled him. Craig’s thighs were sandwiched between Alan’s. Two warm and slick hands stroked over his shoulders and Craig
thought he might die of shock. Alan was giving him a massage. He took a deep breath and exhaled a little more of his tension and he could’ve sworn that he felt Alan laugh.

  Craig all but melted into the mattress as Alan’s powerful hands massaged his shoulders, then followed the length of his spine. He worked his way down Craig’s back. His powerful hands, slick with massage oil, eased all the tension out of Craig. He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His brain was blissfully blank. The only thoughts taking up residence there were of the hands that worked agonizingly closer to his ass.

  Then Alan shuffled down the bed and those gorgeous hands did touch his ass and then that became the only thought in Craig's head. The other man's powerful hands dug into the muscles and Craig moaned. He didn’t care if he sounded like a shameless slut, it had been ages since anyone touched him at all and now those amazing hands touched Craig everywhere. His cock had also been paying attention to Alan’s hands and fully erect, squashed into the mattress. Craig wanted to buck his hips and give into the delicious friction, but he didn’t have permission. He didn’t want to risk doing anything to disappoint Alan and end this glorious massage.

  Alan’s hands left Craig’s ass and worked their way down his legs and Craig doubted that he could buck his hips even if he tried. He felt boneless and weightless, as if he was made of liquid all over—well, maybe not all over. One part of him was still very stiff and solid. Then Alan rolled him over, straddled his hips and started massaging his chest in wide, slow, circles.

  Oh shit. Craig thought as Alan’s clothed cock almost brushed against his. He was sad that Alan didn’t grind himself into Craig, because it would’ve surely felt delicious, but he was also glad because he was so hard and desperate and aching that one stray touch would probably send him flying and he didn’t want to come like a teenager with a hair trigger.

  Alan’s hands worked lower and glided up and down his torso now. Half delirious from pleasure and half crazy with need, Craig begged. He begged and pleaded for Alan to touch him, to make him come. He needed it, needed Alan. Then a warm, slick hand wrapped around his cock and Craig’s world went white with ecstasy.