Ropes and Dreams by Bailey Bradford

mind.
    Ian wanted to dine alone with Drake. He wanted to be able to talk, or try to, or if nothing else, just watch him and learn how he moved. A lot could be learned from observing someone, at times even more than speaking with them. Words could be wielded as weapons, they could be lies. Actions tended to be truer.
    As it was, he sat across from Drake and endured an awkward dinner. The food was damn near orgasm-inducing, but the conversation was stilted, with Ian struggling to add anything worthwhile to it.
    He couldn’t concentrate with Drake picking pieces of chicken off the bone and sliding them between his plump lips. Every time Drake licked those lips, Ian wanted to moan and taste them for himself.
    Drake knew it, too. Ian suspected the man even began to deliberately tease him. He knew it was so when the other three men excused themselves in smug voices.
    Drake’s cheeks were a ruddy shade of red. That colour spread down his neck as Ian watched him unblinkingly. He wanted to do so many things to Drake, so many dirty, fun things that they’d both enjoy.
    When Drake looked away, Ian had a feeling he knew what was coming. He waited for Drake to speak.
    Drake glanced at him, then puffed out a sharp breath. “So, uh, Salt told me he saw you at this…this place in Bozeman.”
    Ian would have been angrier than he was about Salt telling Drake had Drake been upset. As far as Ian could tell, Drake wasn’t turned off, at least. He did seem nervous, but that could have been for numerous reasons.
    Ian took a drink of his tea then turned the glass in his hand. “Yes.” Shit, say more. Speak! Words, Ian, use fucking words! “He did.” Fuck, that was all he could manage?
    Drake sucked on his bottom lip. When he let it go, the flesh was noticeably darker. “Is that…? Do you only have sex with someone who’ll let you whip them?”
    Ian told himself to calm the fuck down. He was not going to blow the chance he was being given to talk to Drake. The importance of the opportunity freed his tongue and words came easier than he’d have hoped. “No, although I do enjoy it. I am a Dom, but causing my partner pain isn’t a requirement.” Though God knew he’d miss it if he was forced to give it up. Would he give it up for Drake? Ian didn’t know.
    “But you get off on it?” Drake asked.
    “I’m not the only one who does in a scene,” Ian added quickly. “The sub’s pleasure is paramount to my own. Sometimes what gets the sub off isn’t pain, per se, but is more along the lines of humiliation or denial. Different things for different people. I enjoy seeing them get what they want, and what they need.”
    Drake crossed his arms over his chest and leant back in his chair. Ian didn’t like that at all.
    “Have you ever been dominated?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.
    Drake frowned. “Well, I don’t know. Not like, officially, I guess. I just dated guys who tended to be bossy fuckers. Violent sometimes, but sure as heck not for my enjoyment.”
    “There’s a huge difference between abuse and BDSM, Drake.” Ian was going to get names from Drake later, if Drake agreed to be his someday.
    “I know that, I do.” Drake’s right cheek caved in, as if he were biting it until he spoke again. “Intellectually, I do. But, here’s the thing—I promised myself, no more men.”
    “Ever?” Ian asked, feeling his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. What the hell had happened to Drake to turn him off men, off sex?
    Drake nodded, shooting him a bashful look. “Yeah. I meant it, too, because I always end up dating jerks. The last one, he was really bad.”
    Something dark crossed Drake’s expression, something that left fear behind. “He hit me a few times, and I didn’t like it. I figured, if I was gonna date guys like him, I’d just not bother anymore. I didn’t like being slapped at all. I can’t imagine being turned on by it.”
    Ian barely kept from snarling. It took him a moment to trust that his voice would be as