Page 54 of Sin Deep
“It was so good I’m not sure I’d mind never having another birthday.”
Oliver looked horrified. “Don’t say that!”
He laughed. “It was a wonderful day, and I can’t imagine ever topping it, that’s all. Silly Oliver.”
“So…he’s arguing with Deacon about payment, Harley is, I mean. He doesn’t seem to understand that you have an account…”
He glanced at the bar. “Oh, sweet boy. That’s my fault. Thank you, Oliver. Excuse me a second, please, Clint.”
“Of course.” Clint didn’t seem the least bit concerned.
He made his way over to the bar and rested a hand on Harley’s back. “Something wrong, petit?”
“Yes, sir. You said I should set up a tab, and Deacon here won’t let me!”
“Oh, I see.” He gave the bartender a meaningful look. “I know it’s not customary, but let the boy run a tab for us, Deacon, would you?”
Deacon hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Yes, Sir. My apologies to you both.” Deacon took Harley’s credit card.
“There now, petit. Bring our drinks, please.”
“Thank you, sir.” Harley relaxed. “Thanks, Deacon. Seriously.”
“You’re welcome, Harley.” Deacon reached across the bar and touched Harley’s hand. “We’re cool. I misunderstood.”
“This is all real new to me. You rock.” Harley grabbed the two glasses of wine and followed Winter back to the table, waiting for him to sit before handing him one of the glasses.
“Thank you, my sweet boy.” He patted Harley’s seat. “You’re having wine too?”
“I thought beer and wine would make weird kisses.”
He laughed. “How thoughtful.” He clinked glasses with Harley. “The confusion over the tab is my fault, Harley. I’m sorry about that. We’ll talk more after tonight.” He gave Harley a smile and a wink.
“Sounds perfect. Cheers!” Harley sipped and hummed. “Tastes like a velvet jacket feels.”
He could just imagine his boy in a velvet jacket.
And nothing else.
One of the younger Doms strolled over, a big smile on his face. “Mister Clint.”
“Callum. You made it. Sam said something about a lecture out of town so I wasn’t sure you would.”
They exchanged a warm handshake and Callum took the open seat next to Harley. “Gentlemen.”
“Hello, Callum. Where’s your boy?”
“Raine?” Callum turned in his seat and pointed to the half-naked sub at the bar. “In the leather.”
Winter chuckled. “Though not much of it.”
“Well, he’s floating, you know. He’s comfortable.”
“Very sweet.” Raine was a firecracker of a man from the West Coast, a child star that had burned out in a rather amazing fashion, from what he understood.
“Callum, this is Harley. He’s recently moved here from Texas. Harley, this is Master Callum.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Harley stood to shake hands, offering Callum a smile.
