A Dom and His Gentleman Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  More from Xenia Melzer

  Readers love the Club Whisper series by Xenia Melzer

  About the Author

  By Xenia Melzer

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  A Dom and His Gentleman

  By Xenia Melzer

  A Club Whisper Novel

  Silver fox Curtis is everything baker Andrew could want in a sub, and their chemistry is off the charts. But as a wealthy and successful gallery owner, Curtis intimidates Andrew and challenges his dominant nature. Can Andrew get used to a sub with a much higher social status?

  British noble Curtis Morris has all but given up on finding his perfect Dom when he walks into a bakery and meets Andrew Granger—smoldering hot, new to Miami, into the lifestyle, and with kinks that align perfectly with Curtis’s own.

  Andrew grew up poor and doesn’t know if he can handle a sub with so much more money, even if he’s insanely attracted to Curtis. To make matters worse, Curtis’s preferred club, Whisper, is far beyond Andrew’s financial means. Still, Andrew doesn’t want to lose Curtis to his own hang-ups, not when Curtis is far from the elitist snob Andrew expected. But Andrew keeps messing up, and with Curtis’s rich ex visiting with the hopes of winning him back, he and Curtis will need all the help they can get to make their romance of opposites work out.

  For Aquamarin—you always help me find my calm.

  Acknowledgments

  THANKING ALL the wonderful people who help me get my stories out never gets old. A very big thanks to Rose Archer, my new senior editor, who made the transition of editors perfectly smooth for me. Also thank you to Yv and Liz Bichmann, for finding all those pesky mistakes I generously read over or just blatantly ignore. You polished this story to perfection! Big hugs go to my husband, who had to put up with my (not so) temporary obsession with everything silver fox and British Gentleman. I swear I’ll stop swooning over Anderson Cooper sometime soon. Also thank you to everybody at Dreamspinner working behind the scenes, and Aaron Anderson for the perfect cover. The biggest thanks go out to my readers, who keep telling me nice things about my stories, which I greatly appreciate!

  Chapter 1

  CURTIS MORRIS, renowned art dealer and agent for the famous and internationally sought-after artist and painter, Rainbow Snake, didn’t know whether he should laugh or tear his hair out about his charge’s latest idea. Collin, aka Rainbow Snake, would have his second BDSM exhibition at Club Whisper soon and had had some kind of artistic epiphany, something that happened quite regularly with him. It usually fell either to Curtis or Martin, Collin’s fiancé and Dom, to guide the armada of Collin’s wild ideas into calm waters.

  “Collin, I like your idea, I really do. But don’t forget, Doms are delicate people. Most of them wouldn’t deal well with a sub wielding a chainsaw in front of them in an environment that—at least in theory—is designed solely to enhance their dominance.”

  There was silence at the other end of the line, and Curtis could practically see the gears shifting in Collin’s head.

  “Martin doesn’t mind.” Collin sounded a bit petulant. He was very proud of his skills with the chainsaw and rightfully so. Not everybody could turn a block of wood into a dragon so lifelike it seemed as if it would spread its wings at any moment. Curtis sighed. He hated making Collin sad. It always felt like kicking a puppy.

  “That is because Martin is very secure in his masculinity and not easily threatened by anything.”

  “I know. He’s so great, isn’t he?”

  Curtis closed his eyes for a moment to fight down the wave of sadness surging in his heart. Talking about Martin never failed to make Collin happy. It also reminded Curtis of everything he had lost—or had never had, considering what an asshole his ex had proven to be. Curtis steeled himself against those negative thoughts and focused on Collin again. Opening night for the exhibition would be in three days, and after talking Collin out of the chainsaw demonstration, he went over the timetable with him, which was kind of useless, since he would forget anyway, but Curtis always made a point of including Collin in everything regarding his art. It made Collin happy, and now and then he would surprise Curtis with a sudden burst of insight.

  After telling Collin to have a wonderful day and hanging up, Curtis stared for some time at his favorite Rainbow Snake print. A beautifully drawn raven, shown from the back, with its wings spread from one side of the picture to the other, emerging from a field of brightly colored flowers and flying into an equally bright sun. The contrast between the raven’s dark feathers and the vibrant hues was stunning enough, but when the onlooker took a closer look at the picture—which was always a good idea with Rainbow Snake’s work—it revealed small details in the field of flowers. Like the green spider sucking out a fly in the blossom of a red poppy, or the hornet catching a butterfly in flight, or the small army of ant princesses getting ready for their maiden flight, or the bumblebees emerging from their nest in the ground. To Collin, all of it held beauty, and he made the spectator see it as well. The original, a personal gift from Collin to Curtis—“Because you’re always there for me, and you understand me even if I don’t make sense, and mess things up, and change the subject too often, and never know the right things to say, even though the words always make sense in my head, which is kind of scary, come to think of it, the discrepancy between in and out, and me and the world, you know, and I guess I just want to say thank you for being my anchor, my connection.”—had a place of honor in Curtis’s bedroom and was protected by a whole battery of motion sensors and alarms.

  Looking at that picture always had a calming effect on Curtis, and contemplating the deeper meaning behind it helped him not to think about the desert his love life had been for the past three years. After Jasper had traded him in for a newer, younger model, Curtis had been too devastated to start dating right away. It had taken him more than eight months to return to Whisper, and since then, he’d only played a few times and never twice with the same partner. He was an experienced sub, and even though his once-flat abs now sported a slight paunch, he knew he was still attractive at forty-five. The problem was Curtis wasn’t used to submitting without a personal attachment. When he did a scene just for the sake of the scene and to get rid of some of his sexual frustration, he could never completely let go. It wasn’t fair to him or the Dom he was playing with. In addition, many of the Doms were intimidated by his wealth and academic and family background. Those were three things Curtis couldn’t—and wouldn’t—change. Sometimes he contemplated looking for a partner and Dom outside of Whisper, maybe on one of those dating sites, but if the Doms at Whisper, who were all on the upper end of the food chain moneywise, had problems with his social standing, how would somebody “normal” react? Somebody whose monthly income didn’t have five figures or more? Curtis tried very hard not to become an arrogant, stuck-up snob who thought about people in terms of social classes, but it was hard when he himself got categorized and judged based on the way he dressed and ta
lked every day. If he was honest, it was a good thing most of the time, because it got him special treatment, and he would be a liar if he said that wasn’t nice, but when it came to finding a new partner, it sucked.

  He sighed again. Sitting in his office and feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t get any of his work done, and there was plenty before the exhibition started. At least being busy would keep him from moping, which wasn’t that much fun to begin with.

  Chapter 2

  ANDREW STOOD at the back of the BDSM club he had chosen to check out tonight and seriously contemplated leaving right away. When he had moved to Miami from Colorado four months ago, it had taken him some time to get settled in—there were still unpacked boxes in one of the rooms in his apartment—and today was the first time he felt he could go out without leaving too much work undone. A thorough internet search had given him the websites of several BDSM clubs in Miami, and Club Submission had been his second choice. His first would have been Club Whisper, a gay BDSM club that had an excellent reputation, but one look at the annual fees and Andrew had known he wouldn’t even go there for one free night as a guest. There was no reason why he should look at what he would never be able to afford. So he’d come to Club Submission instead. It was a mixed club and too big for Andrew’s taste. He liked a bit of an audience, but not the two hundred people or more lingering in the huge hall that doubled as a dancing and demonstration area. He also didn’t like that Club Submission was a hardcore club. Andrew had seen a few Doms and subs here, but most of the pairings were Masters and slaves, and the play he had witnessed so far was less safe, sane, and consensual and heavy on the risk-aware consensual kink. While Andrew knew there was nothing wrong with playing hard as long as all parties involved were of age and had consented, he didn’t feel comfortable watching it and couldn’t imagine doing it himself. For him, the pain was just a sometimes necessary part on his and his sub’s journey to true submission, which was one of the reasons he never played with pain sluts. He found it fascinating how many different aspects there were to BDSM and what people saw in it, but he also knew he wouldn’t come back to Club Submission. The scene on the stage, where a Dom and a Dominatrix were whipping a slave girl with a single tail bullwhip, turned him off big-time, and not because the sub had the wrong body parts for his preference.

  “What a shit show, eh?” A deep, raspy voice startled Andrew out of his contemplation. He turned to look into a face where the nose was too prominent, the lips too thin, the jaw a bit too angular, and the brows too thick to fit the modern definition of beauty, especially in Miami. The eyes, though, and the broad, open smile more than made up for the lack of handsomeness. As did the build of the man, who was as big as Andrew—six three—but almost twice as broad. The stranger—clearly a Dom from the way he held himself—extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Tim. I’m only here for the second time, and judging from the look on your face, you’re as excited about this demonstration as I am.” Tim’s voice was a bit too loud to be considered polite, and the sarcasm clearly dripping from every syllable was earning them a few dark looks from people standing nearby. Since Andrew had no intention of coming back here, he wasn’t overly concerned, but he also didn’t want to cause a scene. There was enough of that going on at the stage. With a polite smile, he took Tim’s offered hand, shook it, and then started dragging him toward the exit. He had seen enough.

  On the sidewalk in front of Club Submission, Andrew looked at his new acquaintance. The harsh light from the streetlamp above them didn’t make Tim’s looks any more endearing, but Andrew felt drawn to the man’s open smile and sparkling eyes. Since his move here, he hadn’t met anybody outside of work yet, and he wondered if Tim could become a friend.

  “So, what do we do with the rest of our evening?”

  Tim shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not in the mood to try another club, but I know a biker bar not far from here where we won’t stand out in our clothes.” He gestured at their black leather trousers. Andrew had opted for a black silk shirt for the evening, while Tim was wearing a red T-shirt. They both had black biker boots on their feet, and Andrew had to agree with Tim.

  “I could do with a beer.”

  He followed Tim down the street to the next block. The biker bar was at a corner and well frequented, though they were lucky and managed to secure a small booth at the back when a couple left. Once the waiter had placed their beers in front of them, Tim raised his glass.

  “To never going back to that club!”

  Andrew smiled and clinked his own glass to Tim’s. “To never going back.” He took a swig of the beer before putting it back on the table. “Unfortunately, this means I have to keep searching for a club.” He sighed.

  Tim looked at him over the rim of his glass. “If it’s any consolation, I’m looking as well.”

  “Are you new here too?”

  Tim nodded. “Came to Miami five months ago. I’m originally from Denver, but I had a bad breakup there and needed a change of scenery. Since I do most of my work from home, moving wasn’t too difficult. Though I have to admit, finding a BDSM club is beginning to seem like an impossible task.”

  “I’m from Colorado as well. Small-town boy, though. I come from a little village close to Lyons. Life there got too stifling, so I decided to move here. I have a bakery over at Thirty-First Street, close to Quincaya Lyovo.”

  “That’s a nice area. Was today your first try?” The smile on Tim’s face transformed his entire being. Andrew was fascinated.

  “Yeah. Couldn’t have gone worse. They really should put a warning on their website about it being a hardcore club.”

  “They probably think the name is warning enough. Don’t get me wrong, I can understand, at least on an intellectual level, how it might be a kick for a sub to be at the mercy of somebody they don’t know, to have to rely on the audience for their safety. And for a Dominant it must be heady to be given such responsibility, to gauge somebody else’s reactions and make it good for them, but I have to admit, I like to be told immediately when I fuck up. Not find out a few hours or days later, while the police read me my rights.”

  Andrew snickered. As serious as the topic was, he liked Tim’s openness, especially since they were of one opinion. “Yes, I like to know that too. Plus, I’m very firmly in the safe, sane, and consensual corner. I know it sounds strange, given where we met, but I’m a pretty conservative guy. I value clear consent above anything else.”

  Tim raised his glass again. “A man after my own heart. Are there any other clubs that have woken your interest?”

  “Well, the one I’d definitely want to try, but won’t because it’s way above my financial possibilities, is Whisper. I’ve only heard the best things about that club, and if it’s half as good as the website suggests, it’s an absolute winner.”

  Tim sighed. “Yeah, I’ve looked at Whisper as well. I met somebody who’s a member, and apparently the website doesn’t do it justice at all, but like you, I don’t see myself there.”

  “Which leaves us with…?”

  “I don’t know, man. I thought about checking out Club Eros. It seems tamer than Club Submission and has an okay reputation. Though I have to admit my sense for adventure has been dampened by tonight’s events.” Tim smiled ruefully.

  Andrew could only nod in agreement. He hadn’t expected to find the perfect club on his first night out, but he was disappointed about the outcome nevertheless. “How about we give it another try next week? I’d certainly prefer to have somebody like-minded at my side when I brave another club.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ve got lots of work anyway, so how about we try Club Eros next Saturday?”

  “I’m in. Here, give me your contact info.” Andrew held out his smartphone. Tim typed his information in, and Andrew sent him his own. “Thank you. I’m glad I finally met somebody outside of work, who shares my kink no less. It was getting lonely.”

  Tim gestured for the waiter to bring them another round of beer. “I’m glad too. I was getting
desperate. Not everybody can handle my brand of humor, but you seem like a tough guy.” He grinned, showing all his teeth, and Andrew was sure they would be getting along great.

  “I like your humor. And I like men who don’t have a problem saying what’s on their mind. There’s nothing I hate more than guess-the-problem games.”

  “Amen to that.” The waiter brought them their new beers and they toasted.

  “To new friendships and finding the perfect club.” Andrew raised the glass to his mouth.

  “To new friendships, finding the perfect club, and the perfect sub.” Tim grinned. “I like to aim high.”

  “Then that’s what we do.”

  Chapter 3

  “AS STARTERS, we’d like the shrimp and octopus in lime, please. And your famous melon drinks, virgin. We don’t need any wine.”

  Curtis handed the waitress their menus back. She took them with a polite smile before clearing their wineglasses. When she left the table, Collin started to talk immediately.

  “Oooh, I just love it here. It always smells so good and everybody is so friendly, and I think you look really cool when you order, all self-confident and polite and knowing, as if there’s nothing in the world you haven’t seen or tasted yet, and is that actually possible, because I think there’s always something new to discover, and you didn’t know about peanut butter, jelly, and banana sandwiches—” Curtis couldn’t suppress a shudder when Collin mentioned this special food from hell. “—and I’m sure Dean knows many more such things because Emily likes the funniest food, like pasta with eggs, sugar, and applesauce, and I never thought that could be good, but it totally is, and Richard said if Dean ever made that again when he’s home, he’s going to spank him so hard he won’t be able to sit down for a week, so I think Dean is totally going to do it, because he loves getting spanked.”