Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Eighteen

“Is it time to get ready yet?” Jordan called from his bedroom.

Stuart cackled. Jordan had asked the same question about four times thus far that evening. They’d returned to his suite after dinner with his parents, and once that door was shut, his excitement had been all too obvious: he was almost bouncing off the walls.

Was I ever that excited about anything when I was his age? Except Stuart hadn’t led such a sheltered life. This brave new world must be fascinating.

“Okay, yes, now it’s time.”

Jordan’s whoop of delight was adorable. “You said you were going to check with your friend if we needed to wear leather.”

Guilt lanced through him for a moment. Should I have let him believe I know nothing of such places? Then he reconsidered. Jordan didn’t need to know everything about him. Hell, he knew about Danny, which was more than most of Stuart’s coworkers and acquaintances did.

“I did. He’s loaned me some stuff to wear.” He went into the closet and dragged out the bag into which Rhys had packed the leather pants and harness. Rhys had been right about the size. Well, almost. They were a snug fit.

Jordan appeared in the doorway. “Can I see?”

He laughed. “Seeing as you’ll be with me the whole time, you’ll see soon enough.” He beckoned. “Come on in then. He’s loaned me some leather pants.” Stuart unzipped the bag and pulled them out, laying them on the bed.

Jordan was at his side in an instant, stroking the leather. “It smells so good. I love the smell of the stables, with the leather saddles and the harnesses. I go there just to breathe it in.” He flushed. “I also went there for other reasons, but that didn’t quite go to plan.”

Stuart arched his eyebrows. “I think I can guess what those plans were. And it’s funny you should mention harnesses.” He removed it from the bag and put it beside the pants, unable to miss the hitch in Jordan’s breathing.

“Oh my. I’ve seen one in photos online, of course.” Then he grimaced. “So what do I wear? I don’t have anything like this.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly acceptable in jeans and a tee,” Stuart told him. Then he realized the bag wasn’t empty. You sneaky little fucker. Stuart reached into the bag and took out the collar.

Jordan’s eyes lit up. “Ooh. I’ll wear that.”

Stuart was itching to say something. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? You have the pants and the harness. You don’t need that. At least then I would have something in leather to wear.” Jordan took the collar from his hands, turning it over. “Can I?”

Stuart didn’t have the heart to refuse him, not when he was so excited. “Sure.”

Rhys was going to have a field day. And it will be his last, because then I’ll kill the bastard.

Jordan was having a hard time—he was trying not to drool, and his dick was like a steel bar pressing against his zipper.

Stuart in leather was something right out of Jordan’s fantasies.

The pants clung to his strong, firm thighs like a second skin, so smooth that Jordan’s fingers ached to touch. Beneath the black leather jacket he’d worn to cover up while they traveled in a taxi to the bar, the harness fit snugly over his chest. Jordan had taken one glance, and that had been enough to conjure up graphic images of him riding Stuart’s cock, his fingers hooked around the harness as he held on tight.

He prayed the thoughts were a premonition of what was to come when they returned to the hotel.

Jordan brought his fingers to the leather collar around his neck. Stuart had fastened it there before they got out of the taxi. Then he’d studied Jordan for a moment, so quiet that Jordan yearned to know what was going on in his head.

“Ready?”

Jordan blinked. “Is this it?” The bar looked like nothing from the outside. No windows, no lights, except for a neon sign above the door. He arched his eyebrows. “Rack? That’s an odd name for a bar.”

Stuart gave him a gentle push toward the building. “Let’s get in there.” The man in black by the door stopped them, checking their ID, and Stuart flashed his own and Jordan’s passport. The man scrutinized them, then handed them back. He held the door for them, and Jordan stepped into a dark space filled with red flashing spotlights, and walls lit up in purple. Music pulsed through the floor, a heavy bass that Jordan felt from his feet to his head. In front of them was a square bar, with bartenders moving at a pace in its center. Off to the right was a doorway, and through it he glimpsed tables, benches, and a lot of men in leather.

Not much leather, in some cases—one man wore only a jock and boots, and Jordan’s cheeks grew hot at the sight.

Stuart leaned in. “Welcome to Wonderland, Alice,” he murmured. Then he straightened as a man wearing glasses approached them, sporting a huge grin.

“Hey, you made it.” He wore jeans, and his hairy chest was bare beneath the black leather vest, his equally hairy belly pushing gently against it. Around his neck, he wore a thick metal chain, with a padlock front and center.

“Jordan, this is my buddy, Rhys. We go way back.”

Jordan held out his hand, and Rhys shook it. “So what do I call you?”

“Just Jordan.”

Rhys snickered. “Well, Just Jordan, let me get you a drink.” He glanced at Stuart. “I’m not asking you, ’cause I already know what you want.”

“A coke, please.” Jordan was suffering from sensory overload. The last thing he needed was alcohol.

Rhys made no comment, but turned his head toward the bar. “Tim, a beer and a coke, when you get a moment.” Then he returned his attention to Jordan. “How are you enjoying your visit to the States?”

“So far, I’m loving it.” Jordan was dying to explore, but he couldn’t get his feet to move. He stilled at the sight of two men, one kneeling beside the other, and he yearned to know what was going on there.

Obviously, there was more to a leather bar than he’d realized.

Stuart’s phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. His brow furrowed.

“Is there something wrong?” Jordan asked.

He sighed. “Work stuff.” Stuart turned to Rhys. “I have to take this, but I’ll go outside. Can’t hear a thing in here.” He narrowed his gaze. “I’m leaving Jordan in your hands.”

Rhys grinned. “He’ll be perfectly safe with me.”

Stuart rolled his eyes, then squeezed Jordan’s shoulder. “I won’t be long.” His eyes twinkled. “Try to stay out of trouble?” Then he walked out of the bar.

Rhys gestured to their surroundings. “So, what do you think of my place?”

“I like it. I’ve never seen anything like it, except in photos.” Jordan’s gaze was drawn to a large square frame on the wall, and he walked over to it, Rhys close behind him. It was a display made up of different colored folded handkerchiefs. There had to be about thirty of them behind the glass. He gave Rhys an inquiring glance. “This is a little strange.”

Rhys smiled. “You’re too young to know about the hanky code, and I don’t know if it ever existed outside of the US.”

Jordan gave him a blank look. “The what?”

Rhys leaned against the black-painted brick wall next to the frame. “Okay, a little US history for you. In olden days when you had your cowboys working, and not that many women around, they’d have dances. Now, with a shortage of available females, some of the guys had to pair up. So when you had two men dancing, they would wear different kerchiefs around their neck. One color meant the guy would lead, the other meant he would be the, er… ‘woman,’” he air-quoted. “Nothing to do with LGBTQ. But, as times changed, the hanky code developed. It was kind of a signal system between gay men.” He pointed to the frame. “Each color has a meaning. It says what the person wearing it is into.”

“Into?” Jordan frowned.

“What their kinks are.” Rhys bit his lip. “No shortage of them in the leather community.” His eyes gleamed. “You may have a few kinks of your own.”

What came to mind instantly was him naked over Stuart’s lap, Stuart’s hand landing with a crack on his ass, Stuart’s finger in his hole. Heat barreled through him.

Thankfully, Rhys continued. “But apart from the color, it also matters which side you wear it. Gay guys used to leave a hanky hanging out of their back pocket, and one look would tell an interested guy what kinks they were into. It’s an old guard thing—not many of the younger generation would do this— but this here is a reminder of our past.”

Jordan looked with interest at the colors. He pointed to the light blue hanky. “So what about this one, for instance?”

Rhys folded his arms. “If a guy wears that in his left back pocket, he wants head. He wears it on the right, he’s basically saying he’s an expert cocksucker.”

Hot and cold raced through him. Jordan pointed to the dark blue hanky. “And this one?”

“On the left, the guy loves to fuck. On the right? Loves to get fucked. A quick rule of thumb is that tops or Doms use the left, and bottoms or subs use the right.” He gestured to the frame again. “About ten of these were pretty common. Then they got added to.” He grinned. “Now there’s a color for every kink under the sun, except they’re coming up with new kinks all the time.”

“I should tell Stuart about this when he comes back. He’ll be fascinated.” Jordan already knew what side Stuart would wear his hanky. That was a no-brainer.

Rhys burst into a peal of laughter. “Seriously? He knows all this shit. He could probably teach on some of it.”

Jordan froze. “Stuart?”

Rhys’s eyes widened. “You didn’t know.” Jordan shook his head. Rhys pointed to his neck. “But… you’re wearing his collar. I kinda assumed that—”

“Wearing his—” He touched the leather around his neck with his fingertips. “Does this have a meaning?” His heartbeat quickened.

Rhys’s lips twitched. “You might say that. I think you’d better ask Stuart.”

“Ask me what?” Stuart stood there, his arms folded across his broad chest.

Jordan didn’t know which one of a slew of questions to ask first, so he went with something safe. “Is everything okay?”

“That was my boss, calling about my next assignment.”

Jordan’s heart sank. That was all he needed, another reminder that their time together was about to end.

Rhys cleared his throat. “If you two will excuse me, I’ll get behind the bar. I think Tim could use a hand. We can talk again before you go.” He left them beside the display.

Jordan looked Stuart in the eye. “Is there something you’d like to tell me? I only ask, because when you first mentioned this bar, you gave me the impression that you weren’t all that familiar with such places.” He pointed to the display, his hand shaking a little. “Rhys was telling me all about the hanky code. He says you’re very knowledgeable on the subject.”

Stuart became very still. “I see.”

Jordan squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “From what I’ve just learned, I’d make a guess that you wear your handkerchiefs on the left.”

Stuart’s eyes gleamed. “You learn fast.”

“But what I really want to know is why you didn’t say anything.” He gestured to the leather pants Stuart wore. “You’re no stranger to this, are you?”

Stuart shook his head. “But if I’m honest, I haven’t been inside a leather bar in years, and the last time was here. Work got in the way, because I let it. I kept busy.”

“But to keep it a secret…”

Stuart’s face tightened. “It’s a habit I’ve gotten into over the years. My job brings me into contact with a lot of people for a short time. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. I don’t share. I just do what I’m paid to do, and then I leave. On to the next assignment.” He gestured to their surroundings. “This is only a tiny part of who I am.”

“Is it okay that I know now?”

Stuart stroked his cheek, and Jordan relished the connection. “It’s fine.”

Jordan’s heart raced. “Rhys said the left side was for tops or… Doms.” Not that he had a clue what a Dom was. Top was self-explanatory.

“And you want to know which category I fit into?” Jordan nodded, and Stuart sighed. “I’m not really into labels, but I’m a top. And when it comes to sex, I like to be dominant.” He inclined his head toward the doorway, beyond which stood a throng of men in various stages of undress. “There are guys in there who are Doms with a capital D. There are guys who are Masters, with slaves. All power to them, but it’s not me. The closest I get to being a Dom is having the guy I’m fucking call me sir.” His breathing sped up. “So when you said ‘Yes, sir’ the other day, without me saying a word…”

“I’m guessing you liked it.”

Stuart’s smile reached his eyes. “You offered them on instinct. That made them the sweetest words I’d ever heard.”

Jordan couldn’t help himself. He locked his arms around Stuart’s neck, and kissed him, a hard, claiming kiss into which he poured all his longing and hopes, his dreams and fantasies. Stuart responded with a hunger that matched his own, and that made it perfect. He wrapped his arms around Jordan, holding him close, and Jordan’s nostrils were filled with the scent of leather, soap, and a warm, musky aroma that was pure Stuart, the same scent that had clung to Jordan’s sheets and pillows after their night together.

Then Stuart reached up to take Jordan’s hands in his, and brought them to his chest. Jordan curled his fingers around the harness, and Stuart smiled. “So do I take it you have no objections to me continuing to take control in the bedroom? I know that’s asking a lot of a prince who is used to having everyone do what he says.”

Jordan’s pulse raced. “I like it when you do that.” He bit his lip. “I’d like it even more if you wore one of these too.” When Stuart raised his eyebrows, Jordan’s face grew hot. “I like the idea of holding onto it while we…”

Stuart grinned. “I like that idea too.” Then he groaned. “You are such a temptation.”

“What am I tempting you to do? I’m just standing here,” Jordan protested.

“I can smell you.” He slid his hand down between their bodies to where Jordan’s erection strained to be free of his jeans. “I can feel you. And if I thought we wouldn’t be discovered, I’d find a quiet spot around here, take you there, and push you to your knees.”

Jordan coughed, unable to shake off the image of him sucking Stuart’s dick in a restroom. He took a step back, then pointed to the display. “If you were to wear any of these, which colors would you choose?” Stuart pointed to the dark blue hanky, and Jordan smothered a snort. “That one isn’t a surprise.” Then Stuart pointed to the gray one. “What does gray signify?”

Stuart’s gaze was locked on his. “Bondage.”

That one word was enough to send icy fingers up and down his spine. He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to adjust his erection. “I see. I rather liked the light pink one myself, but I’m afraid to ask what it means.”

Stuart leaned in, and brushed his lips over Jordan’s ear lobe. “That one means you like to be fucked with a dildo.”

He coughed violently. “Well… That can’t be right, as I don’t possess such an item, and I can’t see myself ever purchasing such an item.” Or even having the opportunity to do so.

Stuart cocked his head to one side. “Don’t they have adult stores in Elloria?”

Jordan chuckled. “You have seen Elloria, haven’t you? Because if you mean stores such as the ones I have seen on the Internet over here, then no, there is nothing like that in my country.”

Stuart grinned. “You’ve been looking?”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “How do you think I know what a dildo is?” There had been so many things clamoring for his consideration, and no chance to purchase any of them, not without attracting his parents’ attention.

“Good point.” Stuart stroked his beard. “I think part of your education has been sadly lacking. I also think we need to tackle this.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“How about a shopping expedition tomorrow, after your meeting?”

Jordan found it difficult to breathe.

Rhys came over. “These were standing on the bar, waiting for you, so I figured I’d bring them over.” He handed them their drinks. “It looked like there was a heavy-duty conversation taking place over here.” His eyes gleamed. “But I didn’t miss that kiss.”

Stuart laughed. “Just as long as you weren’t recording that kiss on your phone.”

Rhys widened his eyes. “Now would I do a thing like that?” He strolled toward the other part of the bar with a slight swagger.

“I like your friend.”

Stuart smiled. “I think he likes you too.”

Jordan touched his collar. “What does this mean?”

“Usually, it’s worn by a submissive. Putting a collar on a guy can be a big thing.”

He stilled. “Then I should take it off.”

Stuart shook his head. “Leave it where it is. It actually acts as a form of protection.” He leaned in and kissed Jordan on the lips. “It tells everyone who sees it that you’re mine.”

There was an ache around Jordan’s heart. But I want to be yours.

He gave himself a mental shake. “This isn’t the kind of bar where guys dance, is it?”

“No, not really. If you want to dance, I’ll take you to the Abbey. This is more of a safe space for meeting, talking, drinking, being with like-minded guys…” He cocked his head. “Do you want to go someplace else?”

Jordan shook his head. “No. I’d like to stay a while.”

A while was all he had. Elloria beckoned, and Jordan couldn’t ignore that call.

Stuart grabbed Rhys by the elbow. “A word, please?” He tugged him away from the bar toward a quiet corner.

“Hey, I’m working!” Rhys protested.

“No, you’re not. You’re guy-watching.”

Rhys folded his arms. “Look, if this is about me giving him a quick lesson on the hanky code, I think your reaction is out of—”

Stuart shook his head. “No, this is about that collar you snuck into the bag. You know, the one Jordan is presently wearing around his sexy little neck?” Just looking at it made him hard.

Rhys grinned. “From where I’m standing, every inch of him is sexy. And speaking of Jordan, where is he?”

“Restroom.”

“He’ll be safe enough.” Rhys’s expression grew smug. “And that’ll be down to the collar I loaned you. And another thing. Just because I put it in there, didn’t mean you had to put it on him.”

“He saw it, loved it, and pleaded to wear it. What else was I to do?”

“Have you told him what it means?”

Stuart nodded. “He wanted to take it off at first, but I think he likes the idea of being mine for the night.” It would have to come off when they got back to the hotel. One look at Jordan on his knees in that collar, and the words ‘Yes, sir’ on his lips before he leaned in to kiss Stuart’s dick, and Stuart would probably come all over that sweet face.

Jesus. The thought of Jordan’s lips, cheeks and chin spattered with Stuart’s spunk…. It was a wonder he didn’t spontaneously combust.

Then the silence struck him, and he glanced at Rhys, who gazed at him with sparkling eyes.

“Except you want him to be yours for a damn sight longer than one night, don’t you? Don’t bother denying it, sweet cheeks. I know you, remember?”

Stuart straightened as Jordan approached them, his face flushed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jordan assured him. “Not as fine as the two guys who were in the stall in there. I think they got more out of their restroom experience than I did.”

“Occupational hazard in a gay bar,” Rhys informed him.

Jordan’s gaze went to Rhys, then back to Stuart. “Have I missed anything?”

“Not a thing,” Rhys said in a smooth voice. “Stuart and I were just catching up, and talking about what the future might hold.”

“Are you ready to go?” Stuart asked Jordan. The sooner he got him away from Rhys, the better. When Jordan nodded, relief surged through him.

Rhys sees way too much.

By the time they got back to the suite, Jordan was buzzing. He ached to know what Stuart had planned for their night together. The visit to Rack had opened up a whole new realm of possibilities, and he was dying to see what awaited him around the corner.

Stuart locked the door, and then yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “It’s late. You should get some sleep. You have a meeting in the morning.”

Jordan gaped at him. “We’re not going to—”

“To what, Your Highness?” Stuart grinned. “Whatever could you have in mind? It’s time for all good little princes to be in bed.”

Jordan fought to breathe. “You take me to a leather bar, you tell me we’re going to go shopping in an adult store, I learn there’s a whole other side to you… And you’re just going to leave me in my bed to sleep?”

Stuart flashed him a wicked smile. “That about sums it up.”

Jordan glared at him. “Then maybe you’d better come up with a different answer, because I don’t like this one.”

Stuart folded his arms. “Here’s my plan. No, we’re not going to fuck tonight.” His eyes sparkled. “You don’t get to have your own way all the time. But tomorrow I’ll take you to the store, you can do a little shopping, and tomorrow night we get to play with whatever you buy. All night long if you want. Just not tonight.” He flashed Jordan a grin. “Maybe it’s time you learned about delayed gratification.”

Jordan gestured to his erection. “You’re going to leave me like this?”

There was an evil glint in his eyes. “Not only am I not going to do anything about it, neither are you. You’re not to touch it, you’re not to jerk off, and you’re not to come until tomorrow night.”

What the…

Jordan put his hands on his hips. “You can’t do this to me. I don’t have to do what you say.”

“If you want my cock in your ass tomorrow, yes, you do.” Stuart moved closer, leaning in. “And you do want it, don’t you, Jordan?” he whispered. “You want to feel my dick all the way up inside you, filling you, stretching you…”

Jordan was shaking from a mixture of need and frustration. “I am seeing for the first time what an evil man you are.”

Stuart straightened with a grin. “You wanna know just how evil I am? I’m gonna share your bed tonight. I’ll be right there beside you, naked and hard, and you don’t get to touch.”

Jordan gaped. “But that’s torture.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” Stuart’s eyes gleamed. “I get to touch you, but if you come, no playtime tomorrow.” He folded his arms again. “I’m not a cruel man, so I’ll give you a choice. Either I sleep with you tonight, with all the rules I just mentioned, or I sleep in my own bed, and you sleep in yours.” He tilted his head to one side. “What’s it to be?”

Jordan knew exactly what Stuart was doing. He’s taking control, shifting the power dynamic. Then another thought occurred to him. He thinks I can’t do it.

Jordan would show him just how strong he could be.

Besides, the idea of being alone in that bed when he could have Stuart’s arms wrapped around him, was too much to bear. “Sleep with me?”

Stuart smiled. “I hoped you’d say that.” He crooked his finger. “Come here.” Jordan walked over to him and Stuart’s strong arms enfolded him.

This is where I want to be.

“There is one thing we can do when we’re in bed,” Stuart murmured.

“What’s that? Watch TV?”

Stuart lifted his chin with gentle fingers. “We can kiss, for as long as you like.” And then Jordan’s lips were claimed in a slow, tender kiss that made him yearn for the coming night to last forever.