Page 2 of Love Language

Marco was still annoyed, but not too annoyed to notice the man’s sad eyes, framed by the beginning of soft wrinkles.

The older stranger didn’t look like he wanted to be there any more than Marco did. He was dressed more for an evening at home than a kink club, and he’d made no attempt to tame his salt and pepper hair.

For some reason, his rumpled appearance made him kind of adorable.

Marco placed him somewhere between forty and fifty. With his large build and tentative mannerisms, Marco assumed that he was probably a visitor and wannabe Dom. Ugh.

It was too bad because he was probably the only other person in the club who was fluent in ASL and having another regular member would make him more likely to attend.

It wasn’t until their short conversation was nearly over that Marco’s mind caught up to the coded ribbons on his wrist and realized that he was a sub. His old club didn’t use wrist bands like this, so he wasn’t used to checking them. This one used red, yellow, and green for interest in being asked to play, and then black, grey, and white for Dom, switch, and sub.

Once he figured out what that flash of white meant, Marco felt warmth begin to pool in his belly.

He also felt like an asshole for assuming. He of all people knew better than to judge someone based on their looks.

This sub, strong and solid, yet also shy and eager to please, was exactly his type. His type was just so rare to find that he hadn’t been looking.

He kept his mind barely on their conversation, but really, he was watching his stranger. The way he signed. The way he moved. And those eyes…

God, he was a sucker for sweet, sad eyes like that. He found himself smiling, wanting to cheer him up. Wanting to make a connection.

The stranger’s returning smile was blinding, completely transforming his face. He wasn’t just sweet. He was gorgeous.

Unbidden, images flashed through his brain of those bright eyes looking up at him adoringly while the stranger kneeled at his feet. Or curled up in his lap while he ran gentle fingers through that rumpled hair.

Unfortunately, his other wrist band was red, indicating that he wasn’t looking for a hook-up. The sexy, older sub probably already had a Dom, and Marco wasn’t about to impose on someone else’s territory.

While he’d enjoy chatting with someone who spoke his language, and maybe dreamily watching those soft gestures on that strong man, he knew when to quit.

He’d already figured out his drinks, so there wasn’t that much more to say.

Marco wanted to make him smile again, though. If nothing else, to let him know that he appreciated that he’d stepped in to explain the nonsense with ordering drinks.

So, he offered to pay for his drink. And God, that sub’s blush was beautiful.

When he saw him responding like that, it made him wonder if maybe he wasn’t with someone after all.

It was too bad he didn’t have an excuse for a longer conversation.

He returned to Cameron and his friends, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the older man with the sad eyes.

He looked around and finally found him sitting with a group of people, but clearly not participating in their conversation. He looked just as miserable and lost as before.

Maybe they’d have more to talk about after all.

Chapter 2 Greg

Valentine’s Day

Greg didn’t want to be here.

He’d come to the club at the insistence of a colleague, Brett, who he was rapidly realizing was not someone that he wanted to befriend. Now he felt trapped.

Every day of the last three years had been painful enough and coming to Escape on Valentine’s Day was like rubbing salt in a wound.

For nearly twenty years, he and Richard—his Sir, his husband, and the love of his life—had celebrated all their holidays and milestones here.

His heart had always leapt when Richard mentioned going to Escape, because his Sir made it new and special for him every time. Dressing him up. Planning scenes. Giving him time to chat with his friends, but making sure that he had every one of his depraved needs taken care of before they went home together.