Page 45 of New Year
Zack leaned across the table and squeezed his wrist. “But you see it now. And being able to see it now will help you see it in others going forward. You figured it out at twenty-three, Nat, and that’s huge. It took me until my late thirties to really start seeing the worst in people, even when the behavior was right in front of my face.”
He’d butted up against that topic before.
“Will you tell—?” Nat’s question was interrupted by their first course.
Zack talked him through the cosas de picar, which was a collection of olives, marcona almonds, Iberico ham slices and different cheeses. After that, the new courses kept arriving at a steady rate. Too steady for any real conversation that wasn’t centered around the plates, and the different ways to combine the food and condiments and bread options. He couldn’t hope to remember all the Spanish names for the dishes, and that was okay. Nat didn’t love everything, but he did try everything, and that’s what was important at the end of the meal: the experience.
The wine also went perfectly with the food, and Nat was warm and tipsy by the time the bill arrived. Zack quickly handed over his credit card, and Nat didn’t try to split the bill. It had been Zack’s invitation, after all, and Nat was very much ready to properly thank Zack for their date when they got home.
The wine didn’t help his naturally loose tongue, and on the drive home, Nat blurted out, “Did you leave Wilmington because of a guy?”
They were stopped at a light. Zack’s fingers flexed around the steering wheel. He glanced briefly at Nat, his expression difficult to discern in the bad light. “Yes and no, and it wasn’t because I’d ended a romantic relationship. Far from it, actually. And how about we put a pin in that until we get home?”
“Okay.” Nat had hit a nerve, and he didn’t want their sweet, fun night to crash down because he couldn’t control his dumb mouth. But he’d asked, and he wanted to know. To hear more about Zack before Nat committed to having sex with him—something he really, really wanted to do now. His libido was singing, eager for sex for the first time in months.
Not just sex. Sex with Zack Matteson.
By the time Zack silently pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine, an odd tension hung in the air, and it was all Nat’s fault. Him and his stupid big mouth. He wanted to sink into his seat and hide from his dumb question, and he lingered in the car after Zack departed. But Zack surprised him by circling the car and opening Nat’s door. Offering Nat a hand. So sweet and gentlemanly that Nat accepted it.
Zack held his hand on the walk to the door, and through the process of going in and resetting the alarm. He led Nat straight to the sofa and sat them down, knee to knee. Nat’s stomach squirmed, uncertain if he’d killed the mood of the night or not.
“After I moved away for college,” Zack said softly, “I began to experiment with my sexuality. I met a lot of new people and tried a variety of things I’d never imagined existed, let alone had an entire community who supported it and taught how to do it safely.”
Not an idiot, Nat blurted out, “You mean BDSM?”
“Yes. I had an affinity for it, domination in particular, and I was good at it. I loved putting my entire focus on my sub, on making him squirm and beg and finally come. On taking care of people. It’s how I met Chase.”
Nat blinked, an odd heat flushing his body. “Chase was your sub?”
“For a time, yes.” Zack flinched. “Without breaching his privacy too badly, we tried. We loved each other intensely for a time, but it couldn’t work. Not in the long term, and our breakup was traumatic for us both. It’s why we lost touch for years. He left Wilmington. I stayed and worked my ass off creating a comfortable living. But I also drowned my pain in BDSM. In particular, in the parties I began hosting.”
A cold ball of ice formed in Nat’s stomach.Parties.
“Beau is hosting another party, Natty, come on. You’ll love it.”
Nat hadn’t loved it.
“What, um, kind of parties?” Nat whispered.
“The kind that allowed men with certain desires to meet other men who were willing to participate.” Zack’s face twisted in pain, and Nat braced for him to end the conversation. And the date. For their beautiful night to be flushed right down the drain, because of his runaway curiosity.
After the absolute joy that had been walking Nat through his first tapas dinner, Zack hadn’t expected things to get so serious, so quickly. But he also wasn’t surprised. Nat was a naturally curious person who said what was on his mind, a trait that Zack found refreshing. He was incredibly attracted to Nat, had hoped their evening would end with at least a make-out session, and now they were talking about this.
And Zack couldn’t make himself lie or obfuscate the truth. Not when Nat had given him a few more crumbs of information about his painful past with Austin. Zackwantedto be honest. “At first, I was incredibly careful about who attended my private parties, about consent, and about the consumption of drugs and alcohol while in my home.”
“At first?”
Zack nodded, his face flushing. He undid the first two buttons on his shirt, too hot, and ashamed of so many of his past actions. “As the years went by, my arrogance rose above my better judgement. I stopped trying to see people for who they were, or to judge their intentions in a safe way. I preferred attention to discretion, and it became an addiction.”
Nat’s gaze drifted to the left briefly, then snapped back to Zack’s face. “The violent narcissist friend of yours. The one who went to jail. He went to your parties?”
“Yes.” Allowing Brett Jones to remain in his life and attend his parties for so long was one of his biggest regrets. But Zack himself had been seduced by the glamor of his own lifestyle, the power of hosting those parties for so many wealthy, gorgeous men, and the high of chasing the perfect scene. “Brett and I were personally involved for a brief time. I was his Dom, but we weren’t a good fit.”
In retrospect, Brett had never been a true sub. He’d been struggling, needy, and willing to give anything for a warm bed and hot meals. And in some ways, Zack himself had taken advantage of that. But everything had been consensual. Back then, Zack had been careful about double and triple-checking consent before scenes. When he’d been a good Dom.
“Did you dump him because he was a jerk?” Nat asked.
“No, our chemistry was wrong, and it became clear that he didn’t need a Dom. He wasn’t what I’d categorize as a Dom or a sub, he simply enjoyed kinky sex. But we remained friends for many years. And it was our prior relationship that blinded me to what he’d become.”
