Trusting Trace: Christmas at the Dungeon Page 2

“Huh?”

  “In this world, this club.”

  Martin shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

  Trace pursed his lips. They weren’t friends, not really, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Martin got hurt dabbling in things he didn’t understand. He looked around, searching for the Monitors, and was happy to see they were still doing their job. So, he nodded, and released Martin’s arm.

  “Let me know if you need me.”

  Martin threw him a sincere smile, followed by a nod, before walking away.

  With Martin gone, Trace returned to checking out the guests. The scenes had grown more intense, and he lingered, watching a man getting spanked by three Doms while leaning over a fourth’s knee.

  Movement to his left caught Trace’s attention, and he turned to see a stunning man enter. He had to be in his late twenties, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him look younger. He was wearing jeans with a button-down white shirt. A white bracelet graced his wrist. His outfit said that he was submissive, but that he wasn’t looking to play that night. His body was lean, his shoulders just broad enough that they fit his frame perfectly. Trace watched as he checked out the room, catching the fascination and hunger in his face as he scrutinized the crowd. He didn’t mingle, but he did talk with another man. Trace carefully watched the interaction, but he saw no sign they were involved. In fact, the other man seemed to be eyeing up someone else.

  The crowd grew, and the atmosphere became hotter. Men and women mixed together. He watched the pairings, making sure that being gay was not frowned upon.

  An imposing Dom took the stage, commanding all the attention.

  “Welcome, everyone, to the first Christmas party at The Dungeon. If all goes well, we will make this an annual occurrence.”

  His words were met with cheers. Once the crowd settled, he continued.

  “My name is Lucas, and I’m your host for tonight. If you need anything, please feel free to come to me, or any of the Monitors. You’ll recognize them by the blue bracelets they are wearing. We are here for you. Don’t forget the rules: don’t touch if you’re not specifically permitted, respect others and their opinions, get consent for any activity or play, and most importantly, be safe, be careful, and enjoy yourselves.”

  Trace found himself grinning widely, liking Lucas. There was a confidence about him that he associated with experienced Dominants who felt secure in their skin. He really should check out the joining fees, and see what the club could offer a fellow Dominant.

  Which brought him back to the stranger who had caught his attention. The man was definitely shy. He watched everything and everyone, his interest clearly written on his face, but he didn’t do a lot of talking.

  ***

  Robbie felt himself being watched. It wasn’t stalker-like, but he could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on him. Sipping his juice, he made a slow three-sixty, trying to locate the source of the attention he was receiving.

  Then he saw him. Mid thirties, dark haired. Dominant. Robbie could say as much without even needing to check the bracelet the man was wearing. It was clear in his posture. Sparks sizzled as their eyes accidentally met over the crowded room.

  The man raised his glass in a silent toast, tilting his head to the side in a nod. Robbie dry swallowed, heat racing to his cheeks, and matched the man’s gesture. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Tony gaping at him, surprised at Robbie’s boldness, but he ignored him to focus on the stranger heading toward him.

  “Hi.”

  “Uh-hmm…hi?”

  A smile curved the man’s lips, lighting up his face. Or perhaps that was the candlelight playing tricks.

  “I’m Trace.”

  Robbie looked down at the hand extended toward him. He hesitated an instant before switching his glass to his other hand and shaking the offered one. Heat simmered from the touch, spreading up his arm.

  “I’m Robbie.” How he hadn’t stammered he didn’t know, but he was proud of himself.

  When the conversation stalled, Trace tried to lighten the mood. “Come here often?”

  “No.”

  A frown twisted Trace’s face, as if he hadn’t expected such a curt response.

  “You?” Way to go, Robbie, very smart.

  Trace shook his head. “No, it’s my first time. I’m new in town.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Before Robbie had the chance to embarrass himself further, Lucas took the stage again.

  “If I can have your attention…”

  The crowd quieted.

  “As you all know, we have some surprises in store. Since this is a Christmas party, at midnight our special Santas will drop everything they have to do in the North Pole and come to pay us a visit.”

  He paused as cheers sounded all around.

  “But before that, we have something else special prepared for you. A live auction. The proceeds will be going to the local PRIDE organization, which is looking for funds for the Youth Center they’re building.”

  The room quieted once more, and Robbie could almost feel the excitement.

  “If our special guests would like to take their positions…” There was a little commotion as several men and a couple of women took the stage. They were sparsely clad, and all of them wore red bracelets.

  “So, for this special occasion, our friends here have offered themselves up for you. Tonight, and tonight only, you have the opportunity to bid for their time. Each of them is carrying a set of rules. Some are a reiteration of the house rules, while others are personal limits and safe words.”

  “Wow.” Robbie shared a glance with Trace. “I wasn’t expecting this. Some toys, peraphernalia, sure, but a meat auction?”

  Robbie nodded, wild-eyed.

  “Without delay, let me invite our first guest to step forward. Tim, if you please?” A slim man joined Lucas on the stage, and Lucas proceeded to list the man’s likes and dislikes, and what he was willing to do tonight.

  “The stage is open for offers.”

  They watched in silence as the bidding started. It went slow, as the crowd got into the game.

  “Do you want to play?”

  Robbie pulled his eyes from the stage to glance at Trace. There was hunger in Trace’s face, similar to the one gnawing at him. But to play in public? Or even worse, to be up on the stage and put himself out there, open for anyone to bid on? Excitement rushed through him, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. Did he dare do it?

  Heat rose to his cheeks as their gazes held. Robbie’s stomach lurched, excitement and anxiety battling inside him. He wanted to play, and he felt confident that Trace would be a responsible partner. But, no, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  Swallowing, he lowered his gaze, then glanced back at Trace and shook his head.

  “Okay.” Disappointment flashed across Trace’s face so briefly Robbie wasn’t sure he’d even seen it.

  “I mean…I do, but I can’t.”

  “No need for explanations.”

  “No, I want to.”

  “Very well. I’m listening.”

  Robbie risked another glance at Trace’s face, and found nothing but understanding there, which made it easier for him. “I… How about a walk?”

  If the change in topic took him by surprise, Trace didn’t show it. “Sure. We should get our coats though.”

  They headed to the wardrobe, and retrieved their jackets. Gallantly, Trace held Robbie’s up for him.

  Once Trace was also dressed, they headed out. They walked side by side, inches apart, their shoulders nearly touching, the closeness almost as unbearable as actually touching. Robbie stole glances at Trace as they exited the building.

  The cold hit them hard. Robbie hid a chill, and shoved his hands into his pockets. Trace placed his hand on Robbie’s back, in comfort, making sure to keep the distance between them. There was a crisp smell in the air that made Robbie think of snow, and all the windows twinkled with Christmas lights.

  “God, I love t
his time of the year.”

  Trace let out a little laugh.

  “I love to play.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I haven’t played in months. It’s like…I can’t.”

  Trace remained silent, giving him the space to get it out in his own time. Robbie lifted his face and took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air. It was still too early for the Christmas cooking and baking to start, but the decorations were enough to remind him of the incoming holiday feast, warming him up. He moved closer to Trace. The faint tightening of Trace’s fingers on the small of his back let him know his feelings were understood and shared. The feeling comforted him, and he felt himself relax.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it turns me on. Watching the scenes back at the club was hot. A few years ago, I would have joined them, or at least had the guts to wear that damn red bracelet.”

  “What changed?”

  Robbie shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I did, I guess.” He checked Trace’s face. “Does that make sense?”

  “I guess so.”

  On the spur of the moment, Robbie pointed at a little tea shop, one of the few opened that time of the night. “How about a hot tea?”

  Trace offered a happy smile. “I’d love one.”

  ***

  Robbie’s laugh filled the little room, his blond hair glistening in the candlelight. If he didn’t know any better, Trace would have sworn Robbie had glitter in his hair.

  The place smelled of the wonderful cinnamon, pumpkin, and vanilla scents he’d associated with Christmas ever since he was a kid. And for once, they didn’t make him sad. Perhaps sharing them with Robbie muffled the memories.

  Trace sipped his tea, watching Robbie do the same. “Do you have plans for Christmas?”

  Where the words came from Trace didn’t know, but once they were out, he realized he really wanted to know. He wanted to know more about the young man sitting in front of him.

  “No, not really.”

  “Don’t you have family around?”

  “No. I usually spend it with my mom, but this year she’s going on a cruise with her new boyfriend.” Trace heard the hint of hurt in Robbie’s voice, but he wasn’t sure if he should address it or not.

  “What about your dad?”

  “He’s gone. Died about ten years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Robbie shrugged. “You?”

  It took Trace a good five seconds to figure it out what the question meant.

  “No, no plans. I just moved here, and I don’t really know anyone.”

  While it was true, it wasn’t the whole truth. Even if he’d had friends in town, he wouldn’t have wanted to spend Christmas with them. He didn’t celebrate Christmas. Not anymore. Not since he lost his parents when he was fourteen, right around the winter holidays. Nowadays, he avoided everything related to Christmas.

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

  “What if we do something together?”

  Robbie gaped at him, surprise coloring his features.

  Before he could answer, Trace stammered on. “We don’t have to do it Christmas day, if you don’t want to. We could do something on the twenty-third, for instance. Hang out, watch some movies, order a pizza or something…”

  He held his breath, waiting for Robbie’s answer.

  “I tell you what. Why don’t you come over this weekend and I’ll cook something. Nothing special, just a little something homemade.”

  “I’d love to.”

  ***

  “I can’t go out this year, Tony, I'm sorry.” Robbie held the cell with his shoulder as he unloaded the groceries.

  “Oh, man, come on. It’s your birthday. We go out every year.”

  “Not this one.”

  “But why? Is it something I’ve done?”

  “Oh, sweetie, no.” Robbie grabbed the bag of flour and placed it on the shelf in his mini pantry. “Trace is coming over.”

  The statement met with a long moment of silence, before Tony exploded. “Trace? Wow.”

  “Yeah. Nothing fancy, just a home-cooked meal and hanging out.”

  “Wow.”

  “Stop with the wow-ing. It’s not like that.”

  “Yeah, sure. A guy comes over for dinner, this close to Christmas no less, and it’s not a big deal. Pfff.”

  Robbie froze. Was Tony right? Was this something more than a casual get-together? Did Trace expect more? Damn it, he was out of practice.

  “Robbie? Can you hear me?”

  “What? Oh, sorry. Do you really think he expects more?”

  “I don’t know. How did you ask him over?”

  “He asked me if I’d like to do something together—a pizza and a movie or something—and I countered by inviting him over for a home-cooked meal.”

  “I’m sorry to break this to you, but this is a date.”

  Oh hell. What if Tony was right? What if it was a date? Did Trace think it was? And, more importantly, could Robbie handle it if it were?

  ***

  Trace came over sharply at the appointed hour, holding a large tray containing what turned out to be cheesecake. Robbie stepped aside, motioning him in.

  “Here, let me take that.”

  Trace was wearing a soft looking-sweater beneath a heavy jacket, and he was shivering. “I didn't know if you already had desert made, but I figured everybody likes cheesecake.”

  “I don't know about everybody, but I love it. Thank you.”

  Robbie took the tray to the kitchen, and returned to find Trace unlacing his boots.

  “Did you find the place all right?”

  “Yes. Quite easily.”

  Shoeless and jacketless, Trace shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

  “Come on in. Let me give you the tour.”

  Robbie guided him through the modest apartment, moving from the hallway to the kitchen, to the bathroom, passed the bedroom, and back to the living room. The place was small, but he had tried to make it as homey as possible, and he was proud of the end result, especially now, with all the winter decorations.

  In the living room, Robbie took Trace to the table he had already set. Trace’s presence seemed too big in the apartment, and Robbie was acutely aware of his every move. He smelled of pine trees and mountain air, and that scent of skin that was unique to him, which made Robbie even more conscious of the fact that Christmas was only a few days away.

  If Trace was as attuned to him, he didn't show it, but their eyes met every time Robbie happened to glance his way. Energy sizzled, and heat flooded Robbie to the point where he considered lowering the thermostat to a more appropriate temperature. But then he remembered the way Trace had shivered when he came in, and decided against it.

  They ate, sharing the food Robbie had prepared, topping it off with Trace’s dessert. The conversation flowed, both of them keeping it casual. They moved to the couch at the end of the meal, taking their glasses of wine with them. They sat awkwardly next to each other, the few inches between them seeming both huge and not enough.

  “Oh look, it’s snowing.”

  Surprised, Robbie glanced to the window, and sure enough, large flakes were falling from the sky.

  “I can’t believe it!”

  Robbie jumped up from the couch and ran to the window. Opening the door, he stepped onto the balcony.

  “You’ll catch a cold.” But Trace followed him out, dressed just as casually as Robbie was. He stopped next to him, their shoulders touching.

  Robbie glanced at him, and grinned. “No way.”

  “You’re impervious to cold?”

  Robbie laughed, threw his arms around Trace’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. He couldn't believe his own courage, but as their bodies touched, he couldn't bring himself to stress over it. Trace’s eyes widened in surprise, but he seemed eager enough to reciprocate.

  A gust of wind picked up, creating a flurry of snow around them.

  Their lips brushed. Heat sparked. Trace’s
arms went around him, pulling Robbie closer, the move gentle but firm. Warmth spread from where their bodies met, making for an interesting contrast against the cold outside.

  Hard lips moved on top of his, the kiss chaste. Robbie arched into the electrifying contact, heart beating hard. He pushed into the kiss and parted his lips, tentatively at first. Trace followed suit.

  Robbie could feel the tension in Trace’s body, and his restrain. A shiver of excitement coursed through him at the sense of all that reined-in power. A low moan escaped his lips, his hunger mounting. Trace tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

  The first brush of their tongues was intoxicating, taste and texture exploding. Robbie clutched Trace, enjoying his strength. Trace leaned in, in return, tightening his hold. The groan rumbling in his chest held a hint of possessiveness that sent fresh spikes of arousal through Robbie.

  Their tongues rubbed against each other, gently probing, in a show of discovery. They moved together perfectly, Robbie leading and Trace following, never pushing, for which Robbie was grateful.

  Robbie slid his hands down Trace’s shoulders to grasp his pullover, urging him closer. He didn’t miss the shiver shaking Trace’s body, or the way his hold tightened.

  Panting, Trace broke the kiss, his eyes wide and unfocused. He rested his head on Robbie’s forehead, before moving back in for more. Robbie opened up for him, eagerly.

  The wind picked up again, sharper, flurries wrapping around the couple. The flakes landed on exposed skin, melting at the contact, making for an intense contrast with the heat running through their veins.

  When another shiver shook Trace, it was Robbie’s turn to break the contact.

  “Let’s go inside.”

  Trace, eyes still wide, nodded. Robbie took his hand and pulled him back into the living room. Trace stumbled and followed, swaying a little as Robbie closed the door behind them.

  To Robbie’s surprise, Trace still allowed Robbie to be in control. He could see the tension in his shoulders, in the slight tremor of his hands, in the way he kept every touch light. The realization sent fresh waves of excitement through him, but all the while, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that Trace didn’t push him to the floor and have his way with him.