...Travis looked bored. Erik couldn’t tell if that was just an act for the benefit of anybody who might be watching him, or if Travis really was tired of the scene. Occasionally, he would reach down and smooth the hair out of his pet’s eyes. Each caress was explicitly absentminded, a deliberate part of the show. A practiced indifference to having such an exotic and unusual pet sitting patiently at his feet. Erik didn’t approach. He waited until their eyes caught, and something new flittered across Travis’s face. It was just a shadow, but Travis couldn’t hide his interest.

Seconds ticked by. Their gazes remained locked. There was no reason to hurry this, after all. Erik had been waiting a long time for this particular meeting.

After a couple minutes, he turned to the bar, pulling out his wallet as the bartender approached. “Send a bottle of your best whiskey over to the corner booth,” he said, tossing four hundred dollar bills onto the counter.

The bartender didn’t blink at the request or the money. Minutes later, a cute little waiter in silver eyeliner and silver chains carried a tray containing a bottle and a tumbler over to Travis’s booth. Travis poured a measured amount, saluted Erik with it, then took an equally measured sip. He poured the drops that remained in the glass into his hand and offered the alcohol to his pet. He dutifully lapped it up, his eyes remaining downcast.

Under Bound’s lights, Travis Canavan looked every inch the hunter Erik knew him to be. Tall and lean, his muscled chest was clearly visible beneath his leather jacket, the dark stubble shading his jaw lending an added air of danger. Intelligent blue eyes drank in everything, moved with deliberation as he watched Erik saunter up to the booth. He hid weapons somewhere on his person, but for now, Erik contented himself with simply knowing they were there.

Travis wouldn’t do anything too blatant in public. At least, not yet.

Casually, Erik leaned against the thin partition that separated the booth from its neighbors, hooking a thumb through one of his belt loops. Travis’s attention flickered for just a moment to the thick outline of his cock, semi-hard against Erik’s thigh, but a moment was all Erik wanted.

“I thought your excellent taste might extend to whiskey, too,” he commented, nodding toward the bottle.

Travis’s well-trained pet didn’t look or acknowledge Erik in any way. Travis wrapped the leash around his hand once more, but the chain remained lax. “It’s a good year.”

A beat passed. Erik wondered if the other man would otherwise ignore him.

Then Travis poured two fingers worth of the whiskey into the lone glass and slid it to the corner of the table.

The alcohol burned going down. Erik stole the welcome warmth and turned it into something stronger, the corner of his mouth lifting in a wry smile when he pushed the empty tumbler back.

“Care for some company? Not that you’re lacking, of course.” This time when he looked at the man on the floor, Erik let his gaze linger appreciatively. “He’s extraordinary.”

Travis ran his fingers through the pet’s brown hair with unmistakable pride. Pride shone in his eyes, too, though there wasn’t a hint of anything warmer. “Would you like to see just how extraordinary he is?”

It was impossible not to get even harder at the dark promise. “I would love to.”

Travis tugged sharply at the chain, jerking the pet from his hands to kneel upright.

“Take me out.”

His pet didn’t hesitate. His long, sure fingers unfastened Travis’s pants and pulled his erection from the leather confines.