Page 14 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“Why not? Seriously. Why the hell not?” Carson wasn’t making fun of him; he could tell.
He held his hands wide, still hiding his cards. “I don’t even—I don’t even know how to begin having a scene with him. Everything is different.”
Frost knew it was stupid. He knew he needed to suck it up and just figure out a way. That was his job. To give Q what he needed. To get what he needed as a Dom. But he was stymied. He didn’t want to hurt Q physically. He didn’t want to harm him mentally. He didn’t want it to be weird or uncomfortable, and every time he actually thought about taking what he needed, he froze. And obviously Q got that because his man had accused him of basically doing that—of essentially freezing.
“You’re right; everything’s different. Literally every single thing, but there’s no real reason it has to be bad. It can just be different. It’s different each time I’m with a sub. And don’t you want it to be a little interesting, a little bit of a challenge?” Carson took a sip of whiskey. That other eyebrow never went up, damn him.
He led with a four. “Sure, but I also want it to be…useful, I suppose. Meaningful, real. Not like two men just going through the motions.” The more he talked, the more he thought maybe he didn’t need to be Q’s Dom. Maybe he wasn’t in the right place to do this sort of scene.
Carson sighed softly and put his cards down. “All right, so listen up. I have a couple of friends. It’s not exactly the same situation as you and Q, of course. Scott and Levi are a committed couple. Levi is in a wheelchair. He’s a paraplegic. He doesn’t have any feeling from his waist down.”
Frost winced. “Jesus.”
“Right? So that means no cock and ball play, no feeling from below the belt. Scott had to figure this out. He had to come up with a way that the two of them could have the relationship that they wanted. Scott is inventive and did a lot of research. Levi was ready to trust the process. They both laugh a lot. They both are willing to try new things. And I’m going to be honest with you. It’s not the same kind of relationship that I have with my subs, but they decided that they loved each other enough, and theyneeded each other enough that they figured out what they could to make this work for them.” Carson gave him another look and then picked up his cards before he laid down a queen. “You’ve got to decide whether or not you two want to make it work.”
“I want that with my whole soul. But what if Q doesn’t? He keeps waving the divorce papers in my face, metaphorically, but I don’t even know where the damn things are, and they’re a little worse for wear, if they’re like the last time I saw them.” He ran a hand through his hair before playing a nine of his own. He was getting his ass kicked at cribbage…
Carson played a five. “This is where you Dom it, man. You find out. Youtellhim you’re doing a scene. That you let it go too long. That it’s time. I mean, I know it’s pretty personal, but he’s into bondage, right? You did that one demonstration that time. Start with that. Start with some soft ties and his damn chair if you have to.”
Frost blinked, something like a plan starting to take form in his brain. Maybe not a good plan…
He grabbed his whiskey and took a big sip.
“Mmm. No. No liquid courage.” Carson took the glass from him. “And no gulping whiskey. It’s too good to waste that way.”
“Yes, Obi-Wan.” He grinned, because Carson just…he never seemed rattled. Never seemed to lose his effortless cool. And the man saw every damn thing. Everywhere.
Well, maybe not like Q did, but very little escaped him.
“Give it back. I have to plan some things, so I can’t do this tonight. So it’s whiskey and cribbage with you.”
Carson’s lips curved the tiniest bit. “And how do you know I don’t have plans?”
“Most of the subs are in Juneau, there’s no guests to wine and dine, as everyone is as secretive as Q right now in that regard, and you’re waiting impatiently for me to count so you can deal. Your tapping fingers gave you away.”
“I’ll have to work on my tells. Good thing it’s not poker.” Carson winked. “Fifteen two, fifteen four, twelve, sixteen.”
Shit, that was a good hand.
“Uh, six.” He turned over his crib. “And two. Ugh.”
“Your luck is bad here at cards because you need it when you go after your husband,” Carson told him.
“I can drink to that.” He clinked his glass against Carson’s, where it sat on the table, and pondered his next move.
Both in cribbage and in his marriage.
Six
“Hey, Q, can I talk to you a minute?”
Quentin was on his way back to his aerie in the tower when one of the resident subs stopped him in the hall.
For a moment, he felt nothing but blinding panic. Then he remembered that A) he was inside the Barn. B) he liked Kendal, and C) he was okay. He was in control. He was just tired from letting his damn physio guy convince him to do balance training in the actual gym.
So, he took a deep breath and then let it out. “Sure, Kendal. What’s up?”
“Well, you know how the big spring fling thing is coming up, right?”
