“Who said anythingabout a reward?” Carter wasn’t falling for that.
Wyatt’s expressionturned dreamy, like he was remembering something good. “Master says good subsget nice rewards.”
Holding back alaugh, Carter leaned back against the counter. “First, I’m not required tofollow any of your master’s rules. Second, you’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. Grantis totally into you.”
Carter knew hisexpression was skeptical, but he didn’t believe his excitable friend. “Howwould you know?”
“Not going to tellbecause I’m trying to be a good boy for my master.” Wyatt dug into his pocketto find his phone. “And speaking of my master, I have to go. I’m supposed to beat his office in just a few minutes.”
In the weeks sinceWyatt first started seeing Garrett, Carter had noticed a significant change inhis friend. Being around so many people who understood the BDSM lifestyle andsupported what he wanted had made a huge difference in Wyatt’s confidence. Nolonger worried about Garrett’s family and co-workers, Wyatt bounced out of thestore, excited to see his master.
Carter might nothave wanted a full-time master like Wyatt did, but he was a little jealous ofthe bond the two had. He wanted something like that. Not the kneeling andconstant submission part, but the closeness and having someone who understood.
His phone callswith Grant had him thinking he might have found it. But there were stillnagging voices in the back of his head that made him question things. Wyattcalled him at random times just to chat, but most guys he knew didn’t. Grantwas another anomaly with the texting and phone calls, but maybe it did meansomething more.
Grant had pickedup the habit of calling him randomly throughout the week. At first, Carterhadn’t been sure what to make of it. The initial conversations had been awkwardand stilted, at least on his side. Grant never ran out of things to say andcompletely ignored how uncomfortable Carter’s responses were. But now, hedidn’t even think about it when Grant called. They would simply chat and tellstories about their day. It was nice.
But was itflirting?
Did it meansomething?
That was the partCarter wasn’t sure about. He’d gotten so many mixed signals from guys and had beenon so many terrible dates that he was more than gun-shy, he was paranoid. Hethought recognizing it was a good step. It didn’t make the crazy any less nuts,though.
Mindlessly walkingthrough closing up the store, Carter couldn’t help but imagine what mighthappen. The romantic evening…the romantic night…the hot, steamy,melt-your-panties kind of night. That thought was like a bucket of cold wateron his fantasies.
He’d been wearinga dress the first time they met, and it hadn’t stopped Grant from flirting andteasing most of the afternoon. So Carter wearingother thingsshouldn’tbe a deal breaker for the sexy Dom. Could it?
There hadn’t beena good way to ask it, or at least, not one he’d found.
Great that youcould call…what’s your opinion on not-so-masculine undergarments?
Carter couldalmost hear the crickets on the other end of the phone, or worse, the horrifiedreaction where Grant would try to explain he thought they were just friends.Grant was sweet and wouldn’t do anything to make Carter uncomfortable onpurpose, but the not knowing was going to make him nuts.
Just becauseGrant’s family was open-minded and accepting of their own preferences didn’tmean that Grant would find Carter’s intriguing. Sure, having a family whereeveryone was into BDSM in some form or fashion should make him more tolerant ofothers. However, tolerant didn’t mean that the things Carter liked would turnhim on, too.
Looking around,making sure everything was put away and locked up for the night, Carter headedfor the front door. After double-checking to make sure it was locked, Carter wentto his car. He probably should have had Grant meet him at work, but that felttoo much like friends meeting—and no matter what he told Wyatt, he was hopingit was a date.
The ride home onlytook around twenty minutes, but it was about fifteen more than his nerves couldtake. By the time he’d parked and walked in the door, he thought he was goingto need a drink to function. However, he was a giggly, flirty drunk, so thatmight not be the best idea.
Sober and queasyit was.
Heading back tohis room, Carter looked over the house to make sure everything was perfect. Heusually kept things fairly neat, but little things were always getting awayfrom him; a pair of heels under the couch, sandals in the kitchen, flats in thehallway for some reason…okay, shoes got away from him. Everything else was mucheasier to keep control over.
Dragging the last-minutestragglers, who he swore escaped on their own, he went back to his closet.Carter looked at the full-length mirror that hung on the inside of the closetdoor. He didn’t look bad. Sure, the shirt was looser than most men would wearit, but nothing too obvious. And he felt okay about the outfit. It wasn’t somasculine that he was hiding. It was a good compromise kind of outfit.
He had several,but this was one of his favorites. The shoes were pushing it. He couldn’t helphimself with that. The only other option he’d considered was a pair of combat-styleboots that could go either way, but didn’t seem like a good choice in case theywent to a nice restaurant.
He forced himselfto smile in the mirror. “It’s going to be fine. He’s a nice guy.”
Not sure if he waslying or not, he turned away from the mirror. Heading into the bathroom, he hadto stop himself from reaching for his makeup. Running his fingers through hishair, his fingers itched to play and get creative. He liked cosmetics. They’dalways made him feel beautiful, not just handsome. It was like the grown-upversion of coloring and getting to play with paints. It was fun.
He had to admit hewas attractive even when he was looking his most masculine, but that justwasn’t how he saw himself. He liked the way his eyes flashed when they wereoutlined with a little mascara and some eyeshadow. He liked the way his lipslooked highlighted with a little bit of gloss. He just wished other people didas well.
Would Grant?
Forcing himselfout of the bathroom, Carter headed for the kitchen. He had a few more minutesto kill before Grant would be over; maybe the drink would be a good idea. Justa little one. Not enough to make him want to climb all over the sexy tank of aman, but enough to settle his nerves.
