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A year and a half ago…

“ S eth, we have an issue at table nineteen.”

I let a deep breath out through my nose and roll my shoulders. There’s another soft knock on my door. “What is it, Scotty?” I snap at my employee. The server’s eyes pop wide, and a wave of guilt hits me. I never… and I mean never, snap at my employees. I have a reputation for being a good, kind boss, but today always gets me in my damn feels.

Fuck. I think I even used my Dom voice. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, Scotty. It’s been a really rough day.” Every year on this day is a hard one for me.

Scotty’s shoulders relax at my words, accepting the excuse as truth. I give him a small grateful smile. I’m a strong believer in running my business with a friendly yet firm hand, rather than being an overbearing dictator. Keeping my employees happy is important to me.

“It’s okay, boss.”

“Seth,” I correct easily. “Now, what’s going on with table nineteen? Please don’t tell me he’s upset with the dessert menu.”

Tonight is the first night my restaurant, Silk, is featuring an extensive dessert menu. This extra sweetness is a tribute to the boy I adored. The boy I lost all those years ago.

“No. It isn’t the menu, that’s been a wild success. The gentleman at table nineteen has a complaint about the couple at table twelve. He wants to speak with the owner.”

I arch a brow as I stand from my office chair. Scrubbing my hand through my wavy blond hair, I gather it into a bun and tie it in place with a ponytail. “What’s wrong with the couple at table twelve? Did one man steal another man’s wife or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Let’s just say he’s offended by the two men.” Scotty’s face turns a deep shade of red. “The couple is rather…intimate. I didn’t ask him for a reason when he ignored me and kept demanding to speak with you.”

I roll my eyes. Damn it. I better not be dealing with some homophobic assholes. “Thanks, Scotty. Let me get presentable, and I’ll be right there.” Scotty nods, clicking the door closed behind him. In the large mirror attached to my office door, I glance at my white shirt, the sleeves rolled to my elbows. I don’t even bother unfolding the sleeves. Instead, I throw my suit jacket over the dress shirt and check my watch.

I’m making good time. I still have an hour until my demo at Dark Satin starts. I usually like to meditate before each demo I teach, but tonight, I’ll just be thankful for any distraction before I head over to the kink club. Since tonight is the anniversary of the passing of one of the only boys I’ve ever loved, I need to stay busy. I need to keep my mind off of all the what-ifs.

At the last moment, I shrug back out of my suit jacket and opt for the casual, rolled-up sleeve look. Even though this is a fancy restaurant, the townsfolk are used to me in casual wear. I figure that if this asshole is a homophobic prick, then he can get a good look at the pride flag tattooed on my forearm before I kick him out.

As I make my way through the kitchen and onto the floor, Scotty spots me and guides me to the correct table. My face scrunches in confusion when I see an angry-looking blond man sitting at table nineteen. It isn’t the blond that confuses me, though, but the fact he’s sitting with a younger man who is currently trying to rub soothing intimate circles on the angry fucker’s wrist.

Okay, so he clearly isn’t homophobic.

I place a smile on my face and extend my hand out to the grumbling red-faced man. “Thank you for visiting Silk. My name is Seth. I’m the owner of this restaurant. How can I help you today?”

“Carl,” he barks. “We have an issue here.”

Carl sneers at my hand, eyes bouncing behind me—probably at the table with the couple who’s currently offending him. I continue to hold my hand out to the jackass, not dropping it. I’m here to try to help him , and if he’s too good to shake my hand, then that shows me a lot about his character. After another awkward few seconds, I’m shocked when tiny, slim fingers slide against mine, and an electric spark jolts through me.

I forgot all about the quiet young man sitting with Carl. My eyes flicker over to the jerk’s poor date and I freeze.

A gasp tumbles from the dark-haired beauty’s plush lips. Wide, doe-like blue eyes meet mine, and I find myself momentarily transfixed.

Fuck. He’s beautiful.

Something about this man reminds me of… a rare flower. Precious, exquisite, and delicate.

It’s clear that he’s embarrassed about his date’s behavior and is trying to save face by shaking my hand. I angle my body toward the pretty man who’s giving me all his attention. That’s a mistake. A big fucking mistake when the pretty little thing doesn’t let go of my hand, but continues to blink up at me with his innocent blue eyes and slightly parted lips.

Carl is too busy babbling about how the couple several tables away are ruining his night, to even notice that his date and I are trapped under some strange spell. Even my body reacts against my will and I start to grow hard. I always pride myself on my control, but apparently, with this young man, I just can’t seem to help myself.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I let go of the man’s hand. I’m not a homewrecker or a cheat. I would never get between a couple—well, not without consent and eager participation.

Carl snaps again.

His date turns a deeper shade of red. “Carl,” he whispers, and I don’t like the way he sounded so timid, almost nervous.

Carl glances at his date. “That’s enough. You don’t need to fuck anything else up tonight.”

The protective side of me rears its head. The side of me that is all caring, nurturing, and protective. It’s a side of me I’ve kept buried deep since Justin passed away. All sense of professionalism momentarily leaves when I argue with Carl.

Seriously, fuck him for putting that broken look on his date’s face.

Cool fingers lightly brush against mine, and I have to remind myself not to be another villain in the little flower’s life. I take a deep breath and compose myself. I squeeze the young man’s fingers before pulling away and tucking my hands into my pockets.

Carl still doesn’t notice the exchange. Instead, he flings his arm toward the offensive couple with a huff. Carl admits that one of the guys making a scene is his ex. I slowly spin around, only to spot my friend Kingston on a date with his boy, Jamie. They are sitting in the VIP booth that’s shaped like a half circle. It’s tucked in the corner for privacy, but not too far away.

Half-eaten desserts are displayed in front of them, and Kingston’s arm is draped over his boy’s shoulder. His fingers are casually brushing over Jamie’s nipple. The sight is a beautiful one, but completely inappropriate in the middle of a damn restaurant.

I bite back a smile.

Kingston is a fellow Dom, and Jamie is an exhibitionist, like me. A hundred bucks says he’s discreetly fooling around with his boy under the tablecloth. The lust-drunk look on Jamie’s face gives them away. Anyone glancing over at them could easily become suspicious.

“My apologies, sir,” I say, interrupting the asshat. “Let me go speak with the couple.”

When I reach table twelve, Jamie’s eyes are closed, and little whimpers are tumbling from his mouth.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” I laugh.

Jamie’s eyes pop open, looking dazed and confused. “Ma-Master Seth?”

Kingston growls. “No, Jamison. It’s just Seth when we aren’t at the club.”

He pinches Jamie’s nipple with his thumb and forefinger. Hard.

“Oh, fuck,” Jamie whimpers.

“Hot, damn. Kingston.” I chuckle, trying to hide my own body’s reaction. “I didn’t know you were willing to play in public.”

“Oh my god, King, please. I can’t think straight. What’s Seth doing here? Am I dreaming?”

Kingston swipes at his phone, and just then I hear a slight vibration before it turns off. Jamie’s body relaxes before he makes a disgruntled sound.

“King,” he whines.

“Enough, Jamison. How can I help you?” Kingston asks.

I shake my head, amused. As much as I want to let my friend continue, I can’t let him feel up his boy in the middle of my restaurant. That’s what Dark Satin is for. “I’m so sorry, Kingston. I’m going to have to ask you to take it to your place, or the club, if you still want an audience.”

“Are you serious, Seth?” Kingston barks.

Kingston and Jamie launch into their story of how Jamie’s abusive ex is the one at fault here. My mind races for a solution before drifting back to the young man at the table with Carl. Is he okay? Is he in a similar situation? It’s none of my business, but damn. I want it to be. I make a silent promise to myself to follow the young man out to the parking lot. Just to make sure he’s safe. The protective Daddy side of me is back with a vengeance, but if the young guy tells me to back off, I will.

Call me stupid, but I felt something, and I’d be devastated if Carl lashed out at the young man because of what I plan to do next.

“As much as this has been entertaining, your ex has made quite a stink, Jamie. I apologize, but several people overheard, and I have a business to run,” I say in a tone loud enough for Carl to hear. Let the asshole think he’s won. I’m hoping by saying this out loud, it will reassure any of the other guests who are eavesdropping. I’ve acknowledged the complaint, but I’m also shining a negative light on Carl.

Jamie starts protesting, but I interrupt. “That being said, between us,” I whisper. “I fucking hate abusive pricks. I will make sure his name is on the banned list. He will not be allowed to set foot back in my restaurant. You two finish this dessert. Dinner is on me today. Next time you come back, I will reserve this table for you. Your next date is also on the house. Enjoy.”

Kingston relaxes, giving me a small, thankful nod.

I make my way back to Carl’s table, lean down, and whisper in his ear. “You have one minute to leave my restaurant, you abusive piece of shit. One minute before I call the cops.”

Carl’s face flames with embarrassment and rage. He stands abruptly, making his chair screech his chair in the process. He crumples his cloth napkin and throws it onto the table.

The balled-up napkin hits the wine glass. Before I can even react, it topples over and spills all over Carl’s date.

Carl shouts one last time before walking around the table and marching out the front door.

My eyes snap back to the dark-haired beauty. Holy shit. Asshat Carl just left him here, without a care in the world. I quickly take in the young man’s appearance. As a pleasure Dom who specializes in all kinds of kinks, I’ve trained myself to be very observant. To take in every little facial expression, twitch, and sound a person makes. And by the immediate tension that leaves the young man, I have a feeling I did the right thing.

Tears stream down his beautiful face.

Wanting to get down to eye level, I squat next to Carl’s date and hand him another cloth to soak up the wine.

“Oh no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t pay for the mess. And I definitely can’t pay for dinner.”

“Don’t worry about any of that.” I touch his knuckles lightly. “What’s your name, petal?”

He gasps at the endearment, and his eyes snap up to mine. “My name is Wylan.”

Pretty. Just like him. “I like it.”

For the first time since I’ve seen this pretty little thing, he smiles. It grows wide as he looks over at me before letting his eyes wander over to Jamie.

I wipe a stray tear from Wylan’s cheek, fighting the urge not to lean over and kiss him.

What the fuck is wrong with me? But as Wylan gives me another tender smile, I already know what’s wrong. This sweet little thing is bringing back the protective urges I’ve kept buried from when I used to be a Daddy.

And as I stare into his pretty, ocean-blue eyes, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it. But I do know one thing for sure: I’m terrified.

Wylan has the ability to completely unravel me.