About Used, Rare, and Limited Editions I: Meet and Greet
by Chris Owen
26 pages
/ 11000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-462-5, 1-60370-462-0
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Carpenter Dave is building some bookshelves for a rare bookseller, thanks to a tip from his good friend Archer. Desmond Chase is an interesting guy, and Dave finds himself very curious about Des' lifestyle. Des has a sub named Wyatt, and he thinks Dave might lean that way, too, according to what Archer has told him.
Dave makes it very clear that he's not into the whole sub thing, but he can't help but find Des attractive. When Des asks him out, Dave agrees, interested enough in what Des and Wyatt have going on to give dinner a try. Will Des open a door to a whole new world for Dave?
Sample
Dave's arrival was announced by a bell hung over the store's door instead of an electronic buzz. It was actually a chain of three small bells that rang with exuberant cheerfulness when he opened the door, and then again as he closed it behind him. So much for pretending he wasn't late. Dave had been hoping to look like he'd been waiting patiently for the client to notice him, but the happy tinkling eliminated that hope. At least he wasn't exceptionally late; he might even be able to pass it off by blaming traffic instead of sleeping in.
"Good morning."
Dave almost yelped in surprise. He'd been so busy peering around the used book shop that he hadn't even noticed the pale, blond man sitting just to his left. Folded into a prissy little chair with spindly legs that was tucked into a corner, the man smiled up at him, clearly amused.
"Oh, hey. I'm the carpenter; Archie sent me. Are you Mr. Chase?" Dave tried very hard to be polite, as Archie had said the job was for an old friend of his.
"I am." The man stood up and the impression of spindly transferred itself from the chair to the man. He wasn't very old, perhaps thirty-five or so, but he was on the skimpy side, all long bones and pointed joints. The angles of the cut of his suit, and the subtle pinstripe of the fabric, made him look incredibly geometric. "You're late."
"I'm sorry." Dave was about to offer the traffic excuse but Mr. Chase didn't look particularly interested, or even concerned. "Dave Allen," he said as he extended his hand.
"Desmond Chase. Would you like a cup of coffee?" Mr. Chase hung a hand lettered closed sign on the door and gestured toward the back of the shop.
"No, thank you. I had one earlier." Dave wasn't sure if he should let Mr. Chase lead the way or not, given the hand gesture, but he had no idea where he was meant to go. "Are you wanting the new shelves for this room?"
"Goodness, no." Mr. Chase actually laughed, but more importantly he started to walk and Dave could follow along, trying not to knock anything off the clearly adequate shelves. "Archer didn't explain?"
"Archer? Oh, Archie." Dave would have to poke Archie about that later. Archer. God, that hardly fit the beer swilling, pizza eating machine who took up the other half of the couch most nights. "No, he just told me to come by and take all the measurements for new shelving." Dave held up the clipboard in his hand, the pencil dangling from it on a bit of string. His measuring tape was attached to his belt, right next to his cell phone.
"I see. How like Archer to play games, even with his work. Enjoyable, isn't it?" Mr. Chase smiled at Dave, like they shared a secret, and kept on walking.
Dave had never seen a smile like that. It reminded him of a wolf -- all teeth and an almost casual threat. At the same time, there was a spark in Mr. Chase's eyes that made the threat seem almost enticing. Dave figured he'd really have to start laying off the good booze if even two drinks was going to make his brain go soft in the morning as well as make him sleep in. He was barely sure he understood what Mr. Chase was talking about. Games?