Page 27 of The Menagerie

“And you passed with flyin’ colors.”

It’s not the best way to start off any kind of a relationship, sexual or otherwise. And Rowan could be mad about it—he probably should be—but he finds that he really doesn’t want to be.

“Pretty shit test,” he muses instead, feeling the surge of angry heat dissipate. “You wanted toreallytest me, shoulda picked that guy who looked like Dwayne Johnson or someone I couldn’t fight in my sleep.”

Malcolm laughs, a short, clipped thing that sounds like he doesn’t do it very often, and Rowan instantly wants to hear it again.

“So,Rowan, you lookin’ for a sub?”

And that’s the thing.

Until a few hours ago, he wasn’t. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind as a possibility. He was only looking for a way to blow off some steam, feel good about himself while he was feeling good. But now that Malcolm has brought it up as a possibility, afor-real possibility and not a fantasy rattling around in Rowan’s brain, the idea of this being a regular thing between them is utterly tantalizing.

But if they’re going to do this, he should be honest with him. Rowan’s never been a true Dom in his life. He’s always taken the lead in his sexual relationships, both long-term and one-night stands, and he’s had kinky sex more often than vanilla in all of those. But a casual, purely sexual relationship with a stranger entirely about satisfying specific needs?

That’s new. That’sdifferent.

And he wants it, but only if Malcolm is okay with Rowan being fairly new to the game.

He’s apparently been silent for too long, having been lost in his thoughts.

“Well? Yes or no, tough guy?”

“I’ve uh… never really done it in an official capacity before.”

Malcolm laughs and rubs a hand across his mouth. “Ain’t like you need a license to rail me, man.”

Rowan feels his cheeks flame but manages to hold on to a scrap of dignity and roll his eyes for good measure. “No shit. I just meant most of this is new to me, at least outside of relationships and hookups. Y’know, in case you wanted someone more experienced.”

Malcolm curls his lips under his teeth. Looks at Rowan like he’s sizing him up. He takes a slow, steady breath, and Rowan’s worried he’s going to tell him to fuck off after his admission. But instead, he surprises him, speaking earnestly.

“You seemed to know what you were doin’. You respected my boundaries and had the foresight to know you’d need to stop if I called you ‘Red.’ You helped me come down at the end, which doesn’t usually happen in group scenes unless I ask someone ahead of time. And you could gauge what I wanted inonesession in a room full’a people—that’s pretty fuckin’ rare. All that tells me you’re experienced enough. The rest is just logistics.”

Despite the sexual nature of his words, the sincerity in Malcolm’s voice and eyes sends a tingling warmth through Rowan’s core, and he can’t help the smile that forms on his lips.

“Okay. Then yeah, let’s do this, Malcolm.”

The other man winces. “Mal.”

“What?”

“That’smyname, Red. Hate it when people call me Malcolm. Pretentious as fuck.”

“But why—”

“You think people’re gonna line up around the block to fuck a guy namedMal?”

Rowan shrugs. “If they knew how tight your ass was, then yeah, probably.”

Malcolm—Mal—smirks. “Yeah. You’re gonna work out fine.”

Chapter 3: Wants and Needs

MAL.

The name rattles around in Rowan’s brain like a pinball in an arcade machine.

Mal, Mal, Mal.

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