Page 23 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“Good. Good.” Frost rocked him, letting them float for a minute.
“You make me so crazy,” he whispered. “Nobody makes me as crazy as you do.”
“Hopefully, nobody ever will.” Frost kissed his forehead. “Don’t think that I’ve changed my mind. I’m still going to flip this coin.”
“What if I don’t want you to?”
“You know how to stop this.” Frost met his eyes, that hazel gaze a little too bright. “Don’t think I don’t understand. You haven’t used your safe words. Until you do, I’m not going to stop. The power is in your hands.”
“I don’t want the power.”
“That’s why you have it, because you can just float and let me drive.”
“What if?” What if everything went to hell? What if Frost decided he didn’t love him anymore? What if?—
The coin was tossed up in the air, and it turned and turned, catching the light. As soon as it hit the top of one of Frost’s hands, he clapped his hand over it so it didn’t fall. “Which one do you want it to be, heads or tails?”
“I don’t know,” Quentin said, his mouth dry as dust. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, Frost. I can’t do a scene. I’m afraid I’ll scare you.”
Frost blinked at him, but the expression on his face was obviously surprised. “What?”
“I can just see it. You’re being all Toppy, and it’s being wonderful and everything that I wanted, and then one of my legs spasms, or my hair moves a certain way and you see the bullet hole. You touch something that’s weird and doesn’t feel like it used to. You freak out, and it’s all guilt and sadness, and I’m stuck there needing you so much and knowing that I fucked it up.”
Frost paused, and he could see his lover, his Dom, giving that the serious consideration it deserved. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I can’t guarantee there won’t be the occasional weirdness. I can’t tell you I won’t want to talk about things afterward, to see wherewe both are. But I will tell you this. If you let me love you, or if we have a scene, I can promise I will be your lover and your Dom, and I will not freak out.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I’ve made up my mind. This is what I want. I want us to try to be an us again. I want you. Just as you are now.” Frost tipped his chin up so he couldn’t turn away. The coin balanced on the other. He couldn’t look. “So, no matter what we find together, I won’t lose my shit.”
“I don’t think I could bear it if you did,” he whispered.
“Then I won’t. I can give you what you really need, Q. And that’s not for me to leave.” Frost stroked his lips. “Look at the coin, baby boy. Tell me what it is.”
He finally tore his gaze from Frost’s. “It’s heads.”
He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. It might be harder just to make love. And Frost was trying to make him understand that he could say what he really needed.
“Can it be tails?” he asked, his voice shaking.
Frost’s gaze sharpened, as if to say,Now we’re getting somewhere.“Of course it can, baby boy. And I have a suggestion. But I want your honest opinion.”
“Okay.”
“I want to bind you to your chair.”
He blinked hard, rapid-fire thoughts running through his head. Okay, he wouldn’t have to stand or lie down on the bed in an uncomfortable position or worry about a bench or something. And he did love bondage. But then—“Yellow.”
Frost sat back so they weren’t touching. “Talk to me, baby boy.” Because yellow meant pause, I need to talk. And it had come right to his lips.
“It would be more comfortable physically.”
“But?”
“But it would be like admitting that I’m dependent on the chair.”
“Okay. And why does that give you pause?”
“Because I want to be—I don’t know.” His voice was rising again, and Frost took his hand.
