Page 18 of Not Your Golden Boy

A club? What kind of club?

Of course, looking at Harry and hearing that they would need to go shopping for something appropriate for him to wear told Nikky a lot about what kind of club.

He was dizzy with excitement.

“Let’s go,” he said, breathless and aching with readiness, and a few other new and exciting feelings.

Harry glanced past him to Albion and winked like he’d just beaten Albion at a high-stakes game.

Albion stared back at him with a flat expression.

There was definitely a war between the two men and Nikky was either going to be a prize or collateral damage. But as Harry reached for his hand and led him out into the cool night, he wasn’t sure he cared. He was about to get exactly what he’d signed up for.

six

​. . .​

Taking Nikky Smith shopping for fetishware appropriate for a place like Crushed was the most fun Harry’d had in ages.

“We’ll grab a bite to eat while we’re shopping,” he told Nikky as they walked to the Tube station nearest the studio, “but trust me, you’re not going to want to go to a place like we’re going to with a full stomach.”

“Is it that intense?” Nikky asked as they headed down an escalator and into the busy underground world of London’s transportation system.

Harry laughed instead of answering, partly to increase Nikky’s anticipation and partly because it was a spot-on question to ask.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what had given him the idea to take someone as young and probably naïve, not to mention famous, as Nikky to what he could only describe as a BDSM dance club. Crushed had an uninhibited atmosphere. It was dark, edgy, and unapologetic about what went on there besides dancing. He hung out there maybe once a month, when he needed a big distraction to feel free from the life he had and the life he’d wanted but had never quite reached. He didn’t know what Nikky would make of it, though.

But first, they needed to go shopping so Nikky could dress the part.

“Um, should I ask more questions about what sort of club we’re going to if this is what you think I should wear?” Nikky asked with a cheeky grin as he stepped out of the miniscule changing room in the shocking boutique. He held out his arms and looked down at the skin-tight leather trousers, sparkly mesh crop top that showed off his toned torso, and silver belt with several metal loops that could be hooked to just about anything or used to lead him around.

Harry grinned wickedly, his mouth watering a little too much at the image Nikky presented all dressed up as a super sub. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nikky answered, a touch of hesitation and questioning in his earnest eyes.

“Then trust me,” Harry said, stepping close to Nikky and smacking his leather-clad bubble butt playfully. “You’re gonna have a great time.”

Nikky blushed beautifully, looking even more fresh and innocent than he had dressed in ordinary street clothes. The aim might have been to make Nikky look like something other than the golden boy everyone thought he was, but dressed up like a juicy snack waiting to be devoured, he looked exactly like the role everyone wanted him to play, just twisted a little.

“You’re almost ready,” he said, shifting over to a counter full of collars, cuffs, and other jewelry. “We just need to accessorize a little.”

Nikky trusted Harry way more than Harry had ever or would ever trust anyone else. Harry tried out various collars and bracelets on him to see what completed the look he was going for. He definitely shouldn’t have been having as much fun as he was dressing up everyone’s favorite new superstar like he would spend his evening on his hands and knees, licking the boots of burly, sweaty men at the club.

In fact, he detested the idea of Nikky on his knees for anyone.

Except maybe him.

He shook his head to clear away those thoughts. They didn’t quite fit anyhow. Nikky might not have been the sweet and glowing ray of sunshine everyone seemed to think he was, but he wasn’t a self-loathing sub either. He was something else entirely, and Harry couldn’t wait to discover what that might be.

They left the fetishware shop with Nikky dressed in his new digs. Harry kept an eye on him, studying him to see if he would shrink away from the stares of the public as they headed to a takeaway place to grab a bite to eat, then ventured on to the club itself. Nikky was quiet as they ate and seemed turned in on himself a bit, like he was getting into a new role for some kinky film. It was fascinating to watch the way his posture shifted, the way his eyes grew more serious, and the way his entire face changed as he adopted the new persona.

All of those physical character changes might have been the reason why, for the first time that Harry had been out and about in London with Nikky, no one stopped them or did a doubletake or waved like they were close personal friends. Nearly everyone walked right past them like they were nobody, except a few not-so-subtle men who ate up the sight of Nikky, tipping their cards about what they liked in the bedroom.

Crushed was tucked away in the middle of a much busier area of the city. Anyone who didn’t know it was there would probably walk right past it to the much trendier nightclub in the next building, where a line had already formed that stretched partway down the street. There was no line for Crushed, just a massive, bare-chested doorman wearing a leather harness standing next to a black door with his arms crossed.

“Hey, Freddy,” Harry waved and nodded to the man as he approached the door.

“Bayonne,” Freddy greeted him in return, then nodded to Nikky. “Is he underage?”