Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Eleven

Since their touchdown at LAX, Jordan had come to one important conclusion—he preferred the heat. Not that it was all that hot, but it was an improvement on New York.

“First impressions?”

Jordan tore his gaze away from the view beyond the car window and turned to Stuart. “So far? It looks like another city. Only, with palm trees.” There were certainly a lot of them.

“Give it a moment. Did your research include checking out the hotel?”

Jordan grimaced. “No. A hotel is a hotel.”

Stuart laughed. “Then you’re in for a pleasant surprise.”

“I’m glad you know your way around LA too.”

“I’ve been here many times. And when we get to the hotel, we can discuss your plans. Because I’m assuming you have some. Just don’t tell me you want to go to Disneyland. I might have to draw the line at that.”

Jordan laughed. “No, that’s not on my list.” Stuart wiped his brow with an exaggerated sigh of relief, and Jordan laughed even louder.

That last couple of days in New York had changed something. He wasn’t sure if it was because Stuart had obviously gone to his father with the idea of taking him to a gay bar, or that his father had agreed. Either way, Jordan’s appreciation of Stuart had increased tenfold, and he saw his father in a different light. He loved the hours he’d spent at the bar, dancing and soaking up the atmosphere, but two events stood out in his memory—a spanking and a waltz.

What surprised him was that both memories sent heat racing through him.

“Jordan.”

He gave a start. Stuart pointed at the window. “Welcome to Hotel Bel-Air.”

He gaped at the terracotta walls with their graceful arches, the abundance of palm trees and shrubs, and the lush carpet of green in front of them. “This is a hotel?”

Stuart laughed again. “Welcome to LA. They do things a little differently around here.”

They got out of the cars, and Jordan rejoined his parents as they walked into the hotel’s reception. Piotr hurried ahead to check them in, while Jordan took in his surroundings.

“What do you think?” his father asked.

Jordan beamed. “I think I prefer it to New York.” Both his parents laughed.

He’d expected a hotel—a building with several floors, elevators, lots of glass… He was unprepared for the beautiful space he now found himself in. From the outside, all the buildings appeared to be only one or two stories high at the most. Inside, cool marble tiles covered the floor and walls, and there were plants everywhere. The sound of running water drifted in through an open window, and he yearned to get out there and discover.

“This is your suite,” Stuart said as they approached what looked like the quaint front door to a house rather than the entrance to a hotel room. A doormat sat in front of it, and next to that was a flowering shrub in a deep blue pot. They went inside, and Jordan caught his breath.

“I like this.” The spacious living room was filled with natural light. There were rugs here and there on the tiled floor. Two French doors opened onto a private patio where two loungers sat next to—

“Is that a hot tub?” It wasn’t big, almost like a tiny swimming pool, with an L-shaped tiled corner seat. A railing went down into it.

Stuart whistled. “Okay, I think this wins the award for the swankiest hotel I’ve ever stayed in.”

“Have you got an adjoining room again?”

Stuart jerked his thumb toward the living room. “Yes. That door there.” He grinned. “Did you bring sunscreen? Because I can see you spending a lot of time out here.”

So could Jordan. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you some. Can’t have you getting sunburned.” He cocked his head. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever spent much time lying around in the sun, have you?”

Jordan shook his head. He glanced at the hot tub again. “That looks great.”

“I’m going to check out your bedroom.” Stuart went indoors, and Jordan followed.

He smiled when he saw the four-poster bed draped with a curtain of sheer fabric. “It’s like something out of a story from when I was a little boy.”

Stuart sat on the couch at the foot of the bed. “I’m assuming you’ve researched Los Angeles for activities you’d like to do.” When Jordan nodded, Stuart narrowed his gaze. “You’ve been very quiet about it. That worries me.”

“I found a couple of things that I’d like to do, but I don’t think my father would be very happy about one of them.”

“Then you’d better tell me.”

Jordan went back into the living room and picked up the tablet he’d spied on the coffee table. He walked slowly into the bedroom, typing into the search engine. Then he scrolled until he found what he wanted. He handed the tablet to Stuart.

Stuart’s eyebrows shot up. “Parasailing with dolphins? I wouldn’t think dolphins would be all that much into parasailing.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “They take you up over the coast so you can watch the dolphins.” The ad had caught his eye, and the prospect of soaring into the air, pulled along by a boat, had captured his imagination.

“And you think your father will object to his only son and heir doing this. You might have a point.” He looked at the screen again. “They can take two people up at a time.”

Jordan grinned. “So you’d come with me?”

Stuart snickered. “Sure. Not that having me along increases your chances of surviving. If there’s an accident, we could both die. But I’ll check them out. You know I’ll have to run it past your father?”

“I know. But if anyone can get him to agree, it’s you.” Jordan’s face grew warm. “You’re a miracle worker when it comes to doing that.”

“Flatterer. But I’ll do my best.” Stuart gazed thoughtfully at him. “Is there anything else?”

Jordan bit his lip. “I found a few places where you can learn how to… surf.”

Stuart’s eyes gleamed. “I see. Something you’d like to try?”

He nodded. “Have you ever surfed?”

“Yes, and I love it. It’s an exhilarating experience. I’ll look into that too.” There was a glint in his eye. “I’m assuming you still want to go to the Abbey one evening. That gay bar I told you about?”

“Yes, please. I don’t think my father would mind, not now we’ve already visited one.” Jordan smiled. “I didn’t ask my father if I could go to that bar, so you must have. I don’t think I thanked you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” Jordan cast a longing glance at the hot tub, and Stuart laughed. “I know you’re dying to get in there. Find your trunks, and I’ll order us some lunch.”

Jordan glanced at the room. “A private patio, a hot tub… and I have all those meetings lined up with yet more executives.”

Stuart got up from the couch and squeezed his shoulder. “I know. At your age you think there are better things to do with your time than sit in a meeting. But this is important. Do your duty. Show your face. Then you can enjoy the rest of your day guilt-free.” He paused. “If I were to take an evening off…”

“You want to see your friend? The one with the bar?” When Stuart nodded, Jordan smiled. “I don’t think my father would object.”

“It wasn’t the king I was thinking about.”

He bit his lip. “You needn’t worry. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay here. I’ll behave.”

“I’ll settle for the first two,” Stuart commented. “As for you behaving? Yeah right.”

“I mean it. You don’t need to worry about me. If New York has taught me anything, it’s that I need to be more mindful of my responsibilities.” More than that, his father’s reaction had ignited a hope in him.

Will it be possible to have at least some of my needs met, when we’re back in Elloria? Except he didn’t want to think about that. Going home meant losing his shadow, and for the first time, the realization brought sadness with it.

To his surprise, Stuart’s manner grew more serious. “Please don’t take this as me being patronizing, but… you’ve grown up.”

Warmth spread through Jordan’s chest. “Thank you.”

“I’ll check with your father first though. And you still have your phone. If you need me for anything, just call.” Stuart went to pick up the phone.

Jordan sat on the couch, listening to Stuart ordering sandwiches for them. His mind went back to the conversation with his father, before Stuart’s visit to Elloria. I told him I’d matured, and he laughed. But then it was just a line, and we both knew it. Now?

Something had changed in him, but then again, there’d been a shift in his father’s attitude too. He accepts me as I am. That has to be true, or else why would he have suggested Stuart dance with me? It was almost as if the king were pushing the two of them together, but that was probably just Jordan’s imagination.

Or wishful thinking.

Stuart walked into the unimposing gray brick building and scanned the bar, searching for Rhys. He had to admit, it felt good being back in familiar surroundings. The air was heavy with the smell of leather, which wasn’t surprising given the amount on show. Red lights pulsed in time with the heavy bass thudding through the floor. Cigar smoke wafted through the air, along with raucous laughter and loud conversation.

I’ve missed this. It had to have been a couple of years since he’d set foot in a leather bar, and longer since he’d last visited this one.

“Stu?”

No sooner had he turned around than he was seized in a fierce hug. “Hey, buddy. Go easy on my ribs.” He returned Rhys’s embrace, then released him, stepping back. “Let me look at you.” Rhys still wore his hair cropped short, and he was a little thicker around the waist, but it looked good on him. “Good Lord, you turned into a bear.”  He pointed to the glasses. “I like them. They make you look intelligent.” He grinned. “Pity we all know you’re dumb as shit.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” Rhys was grinning too. “At least now I can see what an ugly fucker you are.”

It was as if the years since they’d served together had melted away into nothing.

“It’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”

Rhys nodded. “Way too long. What are you doing on the West Coast? Can I get you a drink?”

“I’d kill for a beer.”

Rhys laughed. “Coming right up.” He gave a signal to Tim, the bartender, then turned back to Stuart. “So, what do you think? Is the old place still lookin’ good?”

Stuart reached up to touch the heavy chains that hung in an arc from the ceiling. “I love what you’ve done with it.  And I’m glad to see Tim’s still here.”

Rhys snorted. “Tim came with the bar. I’d never get rid of him. You wanna talk out here, or in my office?”

Stuart gestured to Tim. “The, er…visuals out here are a lot more appealing.” Tim wore a leather vest and a jock, and as he turned to grab a mug, Stuart got a glimpse of his firm, hairy ass. “Looking good there, Tim. You’ve been working out.”

Tim guffawed. “Nice of you to notice. Where you been, Stu?” He placed two mugs of beer onto the bar.

Rhys grabbed them. “Let’s go outside.” He led Stuart outside into a narrow enclosed area with high tables and high stools, a tarp stretched above their heads. They sat, and Rhys shook his head. “Damn, you’re looking good. In fact, I’d say you look better than you did the last time I saw you. And when was that, exactly?”

“Okay, okay, I get the message. I’ve stayed away too long.” Stuart didn’t need a reminder.

“You still in the same line?”

“Yup.” Stuart took a long drink from his glass. “That hits the spot.”

“Gotta tell ya. Guess who I saw about a month ago.”

“You know I hate guessing. That much hasn’t changed in the last ten years.”

“Danny.”

Stuart froze. “He’s in LA?”

“Uh-huh. I was in Santa Monica, and he was on the pier with his wife and two little kids. The wife part was the shocker.” Rhys’s eyes locked on his. “Did you know he was married?”

“Yup.” Stuart took an even longer drink. “Why should him being married be a shock?”

Rhys snorted. “Because you two were playing Hide the Salami for how long?”

Stuart gaped. “You knew about that?” Christ, they’d been so careful.

“Yeah, I knew. Not that I ever shared that. I figured you didn’t want it to be common knowledge.”

“You got that right. Thanks, bro.”

Rhys waved. “No biggie. You saved my ass enough times, I wasn’t about to drop you in the shit.” He paused. “How many times have you seen me since then? When you never once mentioned him, I didn’t pry, but I figured it wasn’t good news. Which is sad, ’cause I had high hopes you two were gonna make it.”

“So did I,” Stuart murmured. “Of course, I lacked Danny’s insight.”

“What happened, Stu?” Rhys’s voice softened.

Stuart expelled a breath. “Danny decided his future wasn’t with me, that’s all.” He paused. “Bastard told me he wasn’t gay.”

Rhys blinked. “So the two of you fucked like bunnies every chance you got, but he’s not gay?”

“What can I say? He had me fooled. He said I’d been ‘a way to pass the time.’”

Rhys winced. “Ouch. When did this happen?”

“About eight years ago.”

“Wait. Run that by me again? You both got your papers at the same time, you were together for two years after that, and then he tells you he’s not gay? Christ—that is one messed-up motherfucker.”

“Tell me about it. You wanna know when the shit hit the fan? Because I can tell you the precise moment. His sister found out he was living with a guy. I was his goddamn dirty little secret. So Sis reported back to Mom and Dad, and the next thing I knew, they descended on us. He came out with the ‘Hey, I don’t think I’m really gay’ crap, they whisked him back to wherever, and then I learned he’d gotten married. I did some digging.” Stuart held up his hand. “Yeah, I know, I should’ve stayed away, but I couldn’t. Bite me. I found out they’d met on some dating app. Got married three months later.”

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” Rhys said in a low voice.

“Damn right it does. That fucker took how many years of my life and flushed ’em down the toilet?” His throat was tight. Rhys laid his hand on Stuart’s, and Stuart patted it. “Okay, enough horror stories. How’s business?” He drained his beer in long swallows.

Rhys flung his arm wide. “You can see that for yourself. Tell me what brings you to LA. You here on a job?”

Stuart nodded. “I’m the bodyguard to a prince, whose parents are on a royal visit. Their first time in the States.”

“Wow. A prince. Color me impressed. What’s he like?”

Stuart snorted. “A royal pain in the ass.” Then he relented. “Okay, he started out that way… He might have mellowed a little. But only after I took my hand to his royal ass.”

Rhys burst out laughing. “You didn’t.”

“I certainly did. Trust me, if there was ever an ass crying out to be spanked, it was his.” He stroked his beard. “The thing is, it turns out he’s gay, and this whole trip is kind of a voyage of discovery for him. He’s getting to see and do things that he can’t in his own country. I took him to his first gay bar last night.”

Rhys snickered. “My, how… Ancient Greek of you. You know, older gay guy mentoring younger ones?” His eyes gleamed. “Have you given him any personal instruction?”

“Cut that out. He’s a client.”

Rhys folded his arms. “And no bodyguard has ever gotten personally involved with their client.”

“I mean it. Leave it.”

He bit his lip. “Oh, I get it. You’d like to give him some tuition. Just tell me he’s legal.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I took him to a gay bar, or were you too busy conjuring up sweaty scenarios?”

“Ooh, even better. You wanna get hot ‘n’ sweaty with him.”

Stuart gave up. “I’m here for two reasons. To catch up with you—although I’m beginning to regret that.” Rhys gave him the finger. “Love you too. Secondly, I told him about your place and… he wants to see it.”

Rhys arched his eyebrows. “You wanna go from a gay bar in New York to my place? Talk about a culture shock.”

Stuart sighed. “I did warn him it would be different.”

Rhys cackled. “I bet some of the guys here would love to sample some royal ass. Last newbie who wandered in here off the street ended up on Raul’s arm—and I don’t mean he was holding it.” His eyes glittered. “He’s a regular now, and he and Raul are talking commitment ceremonies.”

Stuart stared at him, aghast. “I’m not kidding. This kid has done nothing with a guy yet. Christ, he hasn’t even been kissed.”

“Then don’t you think it’s about time someone changed all that?” Before Stuart could respond, Rhys held up his hands. “Relax. I’m yanking your chain. No one’ll lay a finger on him, you got my word on that. You know what these guys are like here—Safe, Sane, Consensual ring a bell? RACK?”

Stuart breathed a little easier. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m here to protect him, okay? And while he may be the most entitled brat I’ve ever met, he’s also got a sweet, vulnerable side to him.”

Rhys stared at him. “You like him.”

Stuart said nothing. He couldn’t afford to think about Jordan as anything other than a client.

“So…” Rhys gave him a speculative glance. “You gonna turn up in leather?”

Stuart shook his head. “All my gear is back home in New York.” And when was the last time I wore any of it? Even then, he’d kept his wick dry. Gotta avoid those complications, right?

Rhys looked him up and down. “I’ve got some pants that would fit you. Wanna try ’em on for size? There’s probably a harness going begging too.” He grinned. “Hey, if you’re gonna bring him here, you might as well look the part.” Then his eyes lit up. “And I’ve got a spare collar for your little prince too.”

“I’ll try on the pants, the harness too, but as for the collar, you can keep it.” He didn’t want to freak Jordan out. Then he remembered. Maybe he wouldn’t be as freaked out as Stuart imagined. Anyone who gets a hard-on while being spanked is not one hundred percent vanilla. Not that Stuart had let on about that.

He removed his phone from his pocket to check the time, then got up from his stool. “Thanks for the beer, but I’d better get back.” He didn’t think that Jordan would pull another stunt, but he didn’t want to leave him alone for too long.

Rhys stood, and hugged him. “Let me know when you’re coming.”

“Why?” Stuart gazed at him in suspicion.

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Relax, will ya? I just wanna be informed, that’s all. And besides, I don’t think you want to walk in here and find there’s a demo on CBT or sounds or something like that, am I right?”

Stuart nodded. “Good thinking.” Jesus, I’m going to be a mess until this is over.

He was starting to regret ever mentioning the place.