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there,” Axel said.
    Bayden came closer. Another slight hesitation, and he passed a carrier bag across the bar. “Thank you.”
    Axel took the bag and peered down into it—the towel Bayden had walked off with the previous day. It had obviously been laundered. It looked suspiciously like it had been ironed too.
    Axel looked up, realised that Bayden was watching him warily, and bit back his amusement. “You’re welcome.” He set the towel on a shelf under the bar.
    Bayden’s lips twitched into a brief smile, obviously relieved that his gesture had been so well received. Axel gave a mental shrug. As quirks went, ironing towels was a damn sight less annoying than those dark glasses.
    He didn’t bother to ask Bayden what he wanted. He got his Coke and set it on the bar in front of the same stool he’d sat on during his last two visits. Bayden obediently took his seat.
    “How was your ride over?” Axel asked.
    “Fine.”
    Axel studied him carefully. An answer that short from most humans would have been a brush off, but Bayden didn’t seem to talk much to anyone, and, hell, at this point nothing short of a firm—sod off, I’m not interested—was going to dent Axel’s curiosity.
    “You said you’d heard that a lot of the guys who drink here are into leather.”
    Bayden nodded.
    “From who?”
    Shrug.
    “Do you know any of the Dragons; ever played with one of us?” Axel kept his tone light, not inclined to let on how much he already hated the idea of one of the other guys having ever laid a hand on Bayden.
    Bayden shook his head.
    Damn it, Axel had met chattier mimes. He fell silent, but he didn’t move away from Bayden. Matt could serve anyone who wanted a drink. Customers could queue out the door for all Axel cared. He remained opposite Bayden and completely silent.
    Bayden glanced up at him. It took him another two minutes of unwavering silence for Bayden to realise that, if the conversation was going to continue, he’d have to be the one to speak next.
    He took a sip of his Coke. “Someone said that The Black Dragons started off as a club for men who like bondage rather than bikes?”
    Axel nodded his approval. He’d have done that whatever Bayden found to say, but the boy throwing bondage into the conversation was definitely a plus.
    “The original four of us met on the BDSM scene. When we realised we all rode, it made sense to ride together. The rest grew from there.”
    Bayden glanced up at Axel again, before quickly dropping his gaze. It was the same look he’d given him last time the conversation had turned to kink—not exactly flirtatious, but definitely one that Axel considered interesting.
    Axel pointed to the table where several of the other Dragons had set up an impromptu poker game. “The big guy with the beard, who looks like a bear—everyone calls him Griz. He owns a bike repair place, does custom work for damn near every biker in the city. He rides the Harley Fat Boy parked out front.”
    Bayden glanced in Griz’s direction, before turning back to Axel.
    “Next to him, pale man with a pony tail, the one who looks like a vampire on steroids, that’s Drac—he runs a tattoo place and rides a clapped out old thing that’s only good for spare parts, but the paint job is awesome. The other founding member of the club is Hale, he’s not in tonight—but he’s the sarcastic one with the shaved head. I’ll point him out to you next time he’s here.”
    Bayden nodded, but it was about time for him to speak again. Axel didn’t have to wait so long for Bayden to get the idea this go around.
    “Did Drac do your tattoos?” Bayden asked.
    “Every one of them.” Axel smiled. “Do you have—?”
    “Sorry, Axe?”
    He looked down the bar toward Matt.
    “The barrels need to be switched over,” Matt said, apologetically.
    Perfect timing for the one job Matt always did his damnedest to avoid. Axel looked at the queue, then at the poker players, before reluctantly setting aside the idea of