Burning Bright by A. Catherine Noon

almost competitive or something, made Sasha tense up and narrow his eyes.
    “Where’s Leo?” Neal asked.
    “Downstairs cleaning,” Misha answered.
    “Come on,” Neal said, putting a warm hand on Sasha’s back, “let’s go on up. I’ll make you some coffee.”
    Sasha nodded and followed him inside, watching the way Neal’s ass muscles bunched on the stairs. The bar on the right played rock music quietly, a television on with a football game. Neal turned past the bar and led the way toward the back of the dining room to an ornate old elevator complete with brass filigree and heavy doors.
    “This thing is gorgeous.”
    Neal preened. “It’s a dinosaur, but I love it. The city made me upgrade it when I bought the building, and the inspector assumed I’d tear it out since it cost so much. But one of my guys is a carpenter and we rebuilt it and brought it up to code. After you.”
    The doors opened to reveal a wood-paneled car with a mirror facing the door. The floor had a thick forest-green carpet and the button panel gleamed with modern buttons. Upstairs, the wide hallway had exposed brick walls and a warm ivory carpet on the floor. Neal opened the door to his flat and tossed his keys in a dish by the door.
    “Anyone here?” he called.
    No one answered.
    He smirked at Sasha. “We have the place to ourselves.”
    “What do you do downstairs?” Sasha wanted to ask the question since he heard about Neal being a professional Dom and now seemed like the right time.
    Neal walked with slow steps over to him, watching him with that warm cinnamon gaze. Sasha didn’t know where to put his hands and stuffed them in his pockets, then fidgeted with his shirt. Neal’s hand appeared under his chin and cupped his face.
    “We have time before dinner. Would you like to find out?” he asked when Sasha looked at him.
    “I can’t afford your rates.” He licked his lips with a suddenly dry tongue. “I saw your demonstration with Dillon, but couldn’t get very close because of the crowd. I’ve been wondering ever since…” He trailed off, eyes on the smooth skin of Neal’s throat. His cologne, something spicy with a hint of cloves, breathed across his awareness. “I don’t usually go to clubs. My tops have been lovers, not professionals.”
    Neal leaned close, then licked along his chin to his ear. “I’m sure we can figure something out. It’s pretty standard, what I do with clients, but with lovers it’s different. I don’t fuck my clients.” Neal straightened and walked back to the door to grab his cell phone off the table.
    “Yeah, Steve. It’s me. The playroom occupied?” He listened a moment and then looked at Sasha. “No, no, just Playroom One. For the next few hours. See ya.”
    The next few hours ? Arousal jolted through Sasha.
    “You gonna join me, or just stand there?” Neal taunted, stepping back out into the hall.
    “Oh, I’ll stay here and jack off.”
    “Really?”
    Neal grinned and opened the door and Sasha made a show of being right on his heels.
    The elevator rumbled down to the basement, according to the placard next to the “B” button, and opened on a very industrial-looking but immaculate club. The first floor housed the Factory, a popular restaurant, but after ten at night it changed to a club catering to gay clientele. Below it, The Basement, strictly geared for dominance and submissive play, was becoming equally popular. Without the crowd of people to obstruct his view, Sasha could clearly see the stage and heat flamed into his face.
    Neal watched him as he tried to regain his composure.
    “I take it you’re not into exhibition.”
    Sasha shrugged. “I saw you do the demo the other night. Very hot.”
    Neal grinned, clearly pleased. “It’s fun with the right person, but only if you’re both into it. Otherwise it’s a horror show.”
    “You ever let anyone top you?”
    “No.”
    The look in Neal’s eyes made him shiver with anticipation.
    “Come on.” Neal tipped