YEARNING

LEATHER & CHROME BOOK 3

KIKI CLARK

Copyright © 2022 by Kiki Clark

Cover Designer: Sleepy Fox Studio

Editor: Sandra Dee, One Love Editing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not meant to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

www.kikiclark.com

Vellum flower icon Created with Vellum

CONTENTS

Yearning

Author’s Note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Thank You

Reckless

Expand Your TBR

FREE Kincaid Pack Prequel

Also by Kiki Clark

About the Author

Yearning

Leather & Chrome Book 3

* * *

Ride hard. Love harder. Yearn for more.

Houston has a secret. One he hasn’t even shared with his motorcycle club. One that involves rope and dominance and pretty little subs kneeling at his feet.

And he’s fine with that. Prefers it, really. It keeps his life nice and orderly.

But the night Kenneth dropped into his life changed everything. Entranced, he watched the sweet nurse stitch up one of his brothers—and then slip away. Even after he’s gone, his shy eyes full of desperate yearning continue to haunt him.

Houston has an idea of what the boy needs. And he thinks he’s just the Dom to give it to him.

Besides, what good is a carefully compartmentalized life when he could have Kenneth instead?

Yearning is the third book in the Leather & Chrome series but can be enjoyed on its own. The story features a missed connection made right, an age gap, nosy friends with the best of intentions, a possessive biker with a heart of gold, and golden-brown skin wrapped in teal rope.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

If you’ve read Joyful, you may notice Emmett isn’t mentioned in this book, and that’s because the events of Yearning actually take place before the Christmas where Rooster and Emmett fall in love, just after Temptation.

**awkward finger guns**

Hopefully that isn’t too disappointing for anyone. Emmett will return in the next Leather & Chrome book.

* * *

Throughout this series, the Devil’s Hands MC works alongside a domestic violence shelter to help survivors leave abusive relationships. There isn’t explicit detail in this book about DV, but there’s a general content warning for the series in that regard.

Please be kind to yourself and use caution.

* * *

If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, please know you are not alone and you do have options.

The National Domestic Violence Hotline is a 24-hour confidential service for survivors, victims, and those affected by domestic violence, intimate partner violence, and relationship abuse.

Advocates are available at 1-800-799-SAFE and through online chatting at www.TheHotline.org. All calls are free and confidential.

PROLOGUE

Kenneth took a long, shaky breath and ignored the trembling in his hands as he gave a short nod to the man who’d come to open the metal gate for him. He felt bad as he drove past him, the rain seeming to come down harder now that the poor guy was forced to stand there and wait for him. Even with his sweatshirt hood pulled up over his head, the man looked soaked in the setting sun, and the temperature was only in the forties.

These bikers were definitely tougher than Kenneth had ever been. And more than a little scary. He really wished he could have simply gone to the bar again instead of the clubhouse behind it. But for some unknown reason, CJ had texted him an hour ago and asked for him to meet the terrifying guy with the mismatched eyes in the building behind the Devil’s Garrote.

“Sure, why not,” he whispered to himself as he slowly drove down the driveway, watching in his rearview mirror as the guy slid the gate shut once more.

Locking Kenneth inside with the Devil’s Hands Motorcycle Club.

He still couldn’t believe that of all the people in the world, CJ had called him to come help his friend two weeks ago. After everything that had happened when he and CJ had lived together along with their other roommate, Tim, and how Tim’s parents had basically kicked CJ out, Kenneth never thought he’d hear from him again.

And he wouldn’t have blamed him.

He had felt bad about not even getting to say goodbye though. He’d been at work when things had come to a head, and by the time he’d returned to the house that night, the only one there was Tim, spinning story after story about how some roughneck bikers had come and taken CJ and all his things away and threatened to kill Tim if he stopped them.

Which… now that he’d met some of the bikers CJ was friends with, he could imagine they might have actually done that. Especially if Tim had run his mouth in front of them.

Kenneth had honestly been worried for a while, wondering if he should call someone but not knowing who, until he’d seen a picture of CJ and his “roughneck” boyfriend on CJ’s Instagram a few weeks later, looking happy and perfectly healthy. He was careful to never love any of the photos, not wanting CJ to block him if he realized Kenneth still followed him. But it was nice in a way, to have a little window into CJ’s life away from Tim and his parents’ house.

He would check the account once a week or so to see how CJ was doing, but he’d stopped after a few months. After he saw that CJ had gotten married. It wasn’t that Kenneth wasn’t happy for him—he was, honestly—but it had hurt to be completely cut out of CJ’s life, so seeing that picture of their entwined hands adorned with gold rings without having gotten a text, let alone an invitation, had been the push he’d needed to finally stop. Kenneth had let Tim walk all over him and had never stood up to him when he’d been shitty to CJ, so Kenneth deserved to be cut out.

But it still hurt.

He’d thought that would be it. He’d moved out of Tim’s parents’ house himself—and away from Tim—and he’d tried to just put everything that had happened in that shitty place behind him. To move on and stop letting Tim and his toxicity drag him down. CJ didn’t want to be friends with him anymore, and Kenneth wanted nothing to do with Tim. It was like they’d gone back to being strangers.

Until CJ had called asking for help.

With anyone else, he probably would have refused, especially considering how sketchy the details had been about what had happened and why the man couldn’t go to the ER. But he’d felt like he owed CJ. Still did, if he was honest with himself.

He’d been a coward, and CJ had paid the price.

As he pulled into an empty parking space around the side of the large brick building, he did his best to shake out his nerves. He wasn’t in any physical danger—he told himself that over and over, a trick a therapist had taught him to manage his anxiety.

It helped sometimes, but his stomach was still in knots as he grabbed his ziplock bag of supplies and stepped out of his car and into the steady rain. To make matters worse, the parking lot for the clubhouse was full of vehicles, and he could hear music blaring as he rounded the corner of the building.

“Come on, man,” the guy who’d opened the gate called to him. He was standing at the front entrance, arms wrapped around himself to ward off a chill. “It’s fucking freezing.”

Embarrassed he’d kept the man waiting, Kenneth hurried forward and ducked his head. “Sorry.”

The guy waved him off as he pulled open the door, light and heat and noise barreling into them, and then hurried inside without a backward glance at Kenneth. He hesitated in the doorway, watching the back of the guy disappear into the crowd off to the side where most people seemed to be congregated around some televisions. Kenneth noted there weren’t any patches on the back of the man’s vest, unlike most of the rest of the people inside. That had to mean he wasn’t really a member or something, right? Still, he could have at least pointed Kenneth in the right direction.

Regardless, Kenneth couldn’t just stand there hovering all night. Stepping to the side so he wasn’t blocking the door, he pulled off his glasses in annoyance, unbuttoning his coat so he could use his shirt to clean off the drops of water. Once he could see a little better, he ran a hand over his hair, trying to make sure the waves weren’t turning unruly from the dampness, and glanced around the crowded space.

He needed to get in, find CJ and the scary guy he’d stitched up two weeks ago, remove said stitches, and then get the hell out.

If he’d had any real friends, he was sure he’d call them the second he left the clubhouse to tell them all about the harrowing experience. But friends had never been his forte.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and pushed aside the thought, refusing to let himself get sucked into a pity-party spiral. He had a job he loved, siblings he adored even when they drove him batty, and a homophobe-free apartment. His life was good, and he needed to remember that instead of feeling sorry for himself because he didn’t have a bunch of friends or someone to kiss him after a hard shift and make him feel better.

He had nothing to complain about, and being jealous of others gave him nothing but heartache.

Thankfully, he spotted CJ waving at him from the long bar at the back of the large room. He ducked his head and hurried forward, jolting when the large group by the TVs burst into raucous laughter and startling the hell out of him. There was another group at the collection of tables and booths, a collection of empty beer bottles and mostly empty pizza boxes scattered around as they talked and laughed loudly. He kept himself from staring at the scantily clad men and women sitting on laps or leaning into bikers.

A tiny voice urged him to look around and see if he was there, the man who’d stared at him while he’d stitched up his friend. Tall and broad and beautiful and distracting.

Houston.

A quick glance at each group showed that most of the men and women were white, and the few men that weren’t didn’t come close to the dark brown skin of the man Kenneth hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

Was he not in the clubhouse? Was he off somewhere calling someone else gorgeous as he touched them?

Disappointment and jealousy seeped through him as he neared the bar, and he called himself ten kinds of ridiculous. What would he do if the man was there? Nothing. He wasn’t brave and fearless like CJ and his new friend, who’d been fussing over the scary guy the whole time Kenneth had worked on him. Even after the man had threatened to… spank him.

God, what Kenneth wouldn’t give to find a man like that for himself. Well, maybe not the spanking part. He wasn’t sure if that would be fun or painful, but the other stuff? The being kept in line with a few choice words and rewarded when he was good kind of stuff? His insides got all gooey just imagining finding someone to dominate him like that. To be just a little too possessive and controlling so that other people would think it was unhealthy, but Kenneth wouldn’t care because it would just make him feel safe and loved.

It had taken everything Kenneth had not to pepper the couple with questions that night. These people lived in a world Kenneth could barely wrap his head around—but he wasn’t naïve enough to think there was room for him, not after what had happened between him, CJ, and Tim.

“Hey, Ken,” CJ said, smiling in welcome. That was the great thing about CJ—even after everything, he hadn’t been unkind to Kenneth when he’d called or the couple of times they’d seen each other. He just… didn’t want to be friends.

Kenneth nibbled on his bottom lip, contemplating saying something about his name but decided in the end it wasn’t worth it. He never should have let Tim use Ken to begin with, but it had made him feel like one of the guys for the first time in his life. He just hoped his smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Hello.”

He wanted to ask how CJ was or if he’d be open to maybe getting a coffee or drink sometime to talk just the two of them, but the words died before they even made their way up his throat at the distrustful glare from the man behind CJ. CJ’s husband was almost as scary as the guy with the mismatched eyes.

There was an awkward pause where Kenneth wasn’t sure what to say, and CJ studied him over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of the dark liquid. No one offered him a drink or to take a seat; they just watched him expectantly, and it was making him extremely uncomfortable. He reached up and pressed his fingertips to the arms of his glasses to adjust them even though they hadn’t slid down, a nervous habit he’d picked up years ago.

Clearing his throat, he dropped his hands and his eyes, the plastic baggie he’d brought catching his attention. “Um, I brought a few things—”

CJ’s husband scoffed. “We do have basic shit around here.”

“Tank,” CJ hissed, throwing him a look over his shoulder, then turning back to Kenneth with a dimmer smile. “We really appreciate you coming out here again, and of course you wouldn’t know what sort of supplies we have, so it was very thoughtful of you to bring what you would need. Right, Tank?”

There was a man on the other side of the bar with several visible piercings and a stunning face, and he choked on his drink at CJ’s sharp reprimand, drawing all their eyes. Kenneth saw he had a lot of tattoos on his arms and neck as well, but his sharp jaw and piercing eyes were what drew Kenneth’s attention. The guy was almost unbelievably attractive.

“Damn, dude,” the man said, wiping the back of his arm across his mouth. “You gonna let him talk to you like that?”

Kenneth’s shoulders straightened, and his hands clenched down on the baggie, making a plastic crinkling sound. Did these men treat CJ horribly? Had the happy, smiling pictures on his Instagram been a lie?

Insides quivering, Kenneth forced himself to take a step forward so he was next to CJ at the bar. Confrontation was not his strength, but he’d already let CJ down too many times to count, and he’d promised himself he’d never do that again. Before he could get his mouth to work though, CJ was leaning over to slap at the man’s arm. Kenneth glanced at CJ, trying to get a better read on the situation, and was surprised to find a grin on his face.

“Shut up, Knuckles. Go stick another needle in your face.” Knuckles walked away laughing, and CJ shook his head in exasperation, turning to Kenneth. His eyes widened when he noticed how close Kenneth was to him, but he shook it off and just inched back a little. “Sorry about him.”

“I’m sorry too,” Tank said firmly, causing CJ to whirl around in surprise as Kenneth’s head snapped up.

When he met Tank’s assessing eyes, they weren’t cold anymore. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but it seemed like Tank had changed his mind about how he felt about Kenneth.

“It’s fine,” he said carefully.

CJ looked back and forth between them, brows furrowed, then just shrugged. “Okay then. So Six is in Tomas’s office”—he jerked his thumb toward a door on the opposite side of the room—“and we can head in if you’re ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Cool.” CJ hopped down from his barstool, and Kenneth followed him and Tank across the room, trying not to stare at their entwined hands.

Maybe he needed to give online dating another shot if he was going to get hung up on a married couple holding hands. He shuddered, remembering the horrors of the last time he’d tried meeting someone that way. Without meaning to, he glanced back to look around the room again, but there still wasn’t any sign of Houston.

He was a couple of steps behind Tank and CJ when they reached the closed door, but it was still close enough that all three of them heard the voice behind the door shout, “Yes, Daddy!” followed by a loud, guttural moan. Kenneth froze as arousal and embarrassment flooded him in equal measures, but CJ just slapped a hand over his mouth as he laughed, and Tank sighed as he banged on the door.

“Wrap it up! Nurse is here,” Tank called.

“Sorry,” CJ said, still snickering. “We probably shouldn’t have left those two alone behind a closed door and expected any different.”

Tank snorted. “That’s true. Those two are like fucking rabbits.”

“It’s kind of sweet,” CJ said, leaning into Tank and looking up at him in complete adoration. “I remember when we were like that.”

Kenneth felt invisible as Tank wrapped his arms around CJ in a possessive hold, one hand dipping down to squeeze CJ’s butt and making Kenneth’s face feel like it was on fire as he quickly averted his eyes. An ache set up shop in his chest, reminding him how much he wanted someone to hold him like that—just in case he’d forgotten.

“What do you mean you remember? Am I not keeping you satisfied enough, baby?” Tank’s voice was little more than a growl. A sexy, only slightly terrifying, growl.

Kenneth tugged at the collar of his peacoat, feeling flushed, and prayed his corduroys would be thick enough to hide anything happening down below. Luckily, the door popped open before Kenneth had to hear CJ answer.

He met the hard gaze of the man he’d sewn up weeks ago and wondered if it was too late to say he wasn’t ready. Six raised his eyebrows at Tank and CJ but didn’t comment on their closeness. Turning to Kenneth, he jerked his head toward the office. “You coming?”

Tank snorted, and CJ giggled as they stepped into the room without hesitation. Someone inside cackled at Six’s choice of words, and Kenneth wondered if his face could actually catch on fire.

Taking a long, steadying breath, he followed everyone into the office and hoped he’d make it out of the clubhouse in one piece.

1

“Kenneth.”

His head jerked up from the computer station he was working on at the harsh whisper from his coworker, Stef, his eyes wide as she skidded to a stop next to him. God, what now? His feet were killing him. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “What?”

She tilted her head to the side, eyebrows raised and mouth twisting in a way that usually meant a doctor was making a mistake, and she wanted him to step in and say something. But their shift was over, and he was just finishing his charting so they could leave to go and get drinks.

Unless he canceled—again—because he was beyond exhausted after barely sleeping the night before and getting run ragged all shift.

“Someone’s at the nurses’ station for you,” she said, still making the face like he should know who it was.

For one brilliant, heart-stopping moment, Kenneth thought it was him. Houston. That man from two months ago who’d called him gorgeous and watched him with heated eyes the whole time he’d sewn up his friend. The one who’d made Kenneth’s hands tremble in excitement and anticipation.

And who’d let Kenneth leave without even asking for his number.

When Kenneth followed up to remove Six’s stitches and Houston was nowhere in sight the entire time, he’d made himself accept the fact that the man hadn’t meant what he’d said. That even though Kenneth had found him wildly attractive, Houston hadn’t felt the same. He was probably just a natural flirt, calling everyone little pet names.

It wasn’t like CJ couldn’t have given him Kenneth’s number if he’d really wanted it.

He’d convinced himself he was completely over the brief infatuation—despite some of the racier dreams haunting him—but the way his stomach plummeted as soon as he approached the nurses’ station and saw the slim build and pale skin of the person waiting with their back to him let him know he was just lying to himself. How one man had embedded themselves so deeply inside Kenneth without even a proper conversation, he couldn’t understand.

“Can I help y— Brock.” He stared, surprised and a little concerned. He and Brock had gone on a single date two weeks ago—a lackluster one at that. Kenneth hadn’t returned any of his texts or calls afterward, hoping the guy would get the message.

Based on the fact he’d tracked Kenneth down at work made him think Brock hadn’t gotten the message.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice a little harder than was probably necessary based on how Brock’s hazel eyes widened and the way he took a step back, hands raised.

Megan, one of the nightshift nurses who he’d worked with when he’d first started in the PICU before moving to days, stopped in her tracks next to them, blood-draw kit in her hands and having obviously heard what he’d said. “You okay, Kenneth?”

“Yes. Um.” He touched the arms of his glasses, centering himself. “Will you make sure Leslie McBride actually uses the cot in her daughter’s room tonight? I found her in the chair again this morning.” He gave her a smile to reassure her, realizing he may have been overreacting. Brock could be at the PICU nurses’ station asking for him for any number of reasons.

None that he could think of off the top of his head, but he was sure they existed.

Megan’s look let him know she didn’t buy his lie for a second, but she nodded and went on her way. As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned back to Brock and crossed his arms over his chest, jostling his stethoscope. “Well?”

“Listen,” Brock started, hands still up to show he meant no harm, “I know how this must look, okay?”

And yet you came anyway. Kenneth forced himself to raise his chin and stare the guy down, even though it went against his every instinct. But he wouldn’t just let someone walk all over him again—he’d learned his lesson with Tim. Wanting a dominant partner and letting any Tom, Dick, or Harry treat him like crap were two very different things, and he was tired of settling.

So even though his belly quivered and his palms were a little sweaty at the confrontational stance, he said, “Then explain to me why I shouldn’t call security?”

“It isn’t like that,” Brock rushed to say, dropping his arms and tucking his hands in his jean pockets when someone walked past and gave him a weird look. “My niece is here. She had her appendix taken out and has to stay the night.”

All the fight drained out of Kenneth. Now he just felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

“Yeah.” Brock nodded, glancing away and then shooting Kenneth a sweet smile. “But I thought I’d see if you were here before I left so I could ask why you ghosted me.”

Face burning, Kenneth took a half step back. “That’s not… I just got really busy with work.”

He realized his mistake right away when hope lit up Brock’s face. “I get that. Are you just getting off? Maybe we could go grab a drink.”

“I don’t—”

“Please? Just give me one more chance, Kenneth,” Brock begged, stepping forward so they were only a few inches apart.

Kenneth fought not to cringe. The more Brock pleaded with him, the more unattractive he found the guy. Which was probably messed up. Brock was a perfectly nice, normal, and sweet guy who helped coach his nephew’s Little League team and liked to go hiking on the weekends.

Was it his fault that Kenneth found him utterly boring?

It was all CJ and his new friends’ fault. Kenneth had been doing just fine on his own, content with his life as it was. And then he’d heard Six’s boyfriend call him Daddy and watched Tank grab CJ’s ass possessively, and it had been like someone was shaking him awake. Now it was all he could think about, finding someone to give him the things he’d barely let himself think about before.

But Brock wasn’t going to be that guy—Kenneth had known it within ten minutes of their date when he’d timidly asked Kenneth’s opinion on where to eat and what to order, like he was afraid to be too bossy. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to come across as overbearing, but it had turned Kenneth off so much he’d tried to avoid talking to the man again.

Standing in front of him, looking at his big, sad eyes, Kenneth didn’t have it in him to turn him down. All the energy he’d had left after his long day had gone into standing up to Brock when he thought he was a stalker, and now he was empty. Faking a smile, he said, “I can’t tonight, but maybe next weekend?”

Grinning, Brock rocked on his heels a little. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

Then he darted forward and pressed a dry kiss to Kenneth’s cheek before hurrying away, promising to text him.

Kenneth stood there, watching him go. A part of him wished he could have felt something when Brock kissed him, but there had been nothing. No flutter in his stomach or increase in heart rate. It was like his libido was frozen in Brock’s presence.

Unlike the brief moment he’d been near that biker. His hands had trembled just at the sight of his big, imposing body. And when he’d called Kenneth gorgeous?

Good night, sir.

Sighing, he shook his head at himself and tried to forget about Houston. Nothing had happened—nothing was going to happen. Even if he’d chased after Kenneth that night when he’d left the bar or gotten his number from CJ and called asking for a date, Kenneth wouldn’t have let himself say yes. The Devil’s Hands MC was CJ’s world, and Kenneth would never force himself back into his life like that.

He headed into the tiny breakroom where his coat and lunch pail were stashed. There was no sign of Stef, and when he pulled his phone out of his scrub pocket, he saw a text from her.

Stef: That guy better not have been giving you any problems!

Kenneth: It’s fine. He’s not important. Did you bail on tonight before I could? LOL

Stef: LOL yeah, sorry. Jimmy threw up and Bobbi’s freaking out. I’ve got to get home.

Kenneth grimaced. Stef’s wife, Bobbi, was useless when it came to any kind of illness, so whenever their son, Jimmy, even had a sniffle, she’d call Stef in a panic.

Kenneth: Yikes. That’s no fun. Rain check?

Stef: Definitely.

He sighed as he slipped his jacket on but left it unbuttoned and headed out. He kept his eyes open to make sure he didn’t bump into Brock on his way down to the ER, but there wasn’t any sign of him. Thank god. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when Brock texted about them getting drinks, but he’d figure that out later. At the moment, all he wanted was to get home, put on some comfy clothes, raid his depressingly empty refrigerator, and binge some mindless TV before he had to get up and do everything again tomorrow.

The sun was low in the sky when he stepped outside, soft reds and oranges making his heart a little happier, and even though the temperature was dipping as evening wore on, the feeling of spring was firmly in the air. He’d always loved spring. That perfect transition from the frozen hellscape of winter and the blistering heat of summer.

Some of the anxiousness from Brock’s unexpected visit began to ease from his shoulders. He just hoped he’d been telling the truth about his niece—though he felt terrible for that—and that he wasn’t really turning into some sort of creep. Work had always been the one place he’d felt safe, even in the immediate aftermath of everything that had happened between him, Tim, and CJ and the ground beneath him had been crumbling. When he walked through the doors of the pediatric ICU, he wasn’t some shy, insecure man who couldn’t keep a friend to save his life. He was a professional, one who was respected by his peers and did his job really freaking well.

He didn’t want to lose that.

There was a rig in the ambulance bay, unloading someone on a gurney, but he didn’t pay much attention until the low rumble of a motorcycle began to grow louder, and a sick feeling bloomed in the pit of his stomach. He paused just before stepping into the crosswalk to try and locate the source of the sound. The rider came into sight as they turned onto the street that separated the hospital from the employee and visitor parking garage—and then they took a sharp right into the structure.

The dying evening sun caught the man’s profile under his half-shell helmet, and Kenneth sucked in a harsh breath.

His heart was beating in his ears as he raced across the street and found Tank in a space on the back wall of the first level. Dread had his hands shaking, but he squeezed them into fists as he skidded to a stop next to Tank’s bike, the big man’s head snapping toward him in surprise.

He was panting, though he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the short run. He just couldn’t stop imagining all the awful things that might have happened to bring Tank to the hospital on the tail of the rig. Breathless, he blurted out, “Is CJ okay?”

Tank’s thick brows furrowed as he took off his helmet and dismounted. “Unless you know something I don’t, he’s fine.”

Relief made him weak in the knees, one of his hands shooting out to brace him against the rough concrete wall. “Thank god. I saw the ambulance and then you were here and I just… I’m sorry if I worried you.”

Scratching at his short beard, Tank glanced in the direction of the hospital, then at Kenneth’s scrubs visible under his jacket. “You just get done for the day?”

“Yeah.” He nodded a few times, neck feeling loose and wobbly. God, what was wrong with him? He needed to pull himself together. CJ didn’t want to be anything more than acquaintances; Kenneth had no business acting like a concerned best friend.

Tank shoved his hands into his leather jacket and nodded back, clearing his throat. “CJ’s fine. A friend had to be brought in though, and she’s in rough shape. I should probably get in there.”

Kenneth’s heart clenched as he remembered sitting by himself in hospital waiting rooms day after day, no one but kind nurses who’d buy him coffee sometimes to keep him company. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I could wait with you… if you wanted.”

The words were out before he could think them through, hanging in the spring air between them. Tank looked as shocked as Kenneth felt, but before he could think of a way to take the offer back without coming off like a massive jerk, Tank was nodding again.

“Yeah, alright. I’d appreciate that.”

Oh.

Swallowing, Kenneth straightened off the wall and squared his shoulders, nudging his glasses up his nose. Okay, so this is happening. He knew it didn’t really mean anything. Heck, he’d held the hands of more terrified and grieving parents than he could count, so it wasn’t like it was completely out of character for him to offer someone a bit of comfort as they waited for possible bad news.

Plus, Tank was CJ’s husband. Even though he wasn’t glaring and chasing Kenneth off, that didn’t mean for a second that Tank had forgotten what Kenneth had done to CJ. No, if he was lucky, the best he could hope for was maybe a few tidbits about Houston, but Kenneth was pretty sure he wouldn’t have the guts to ask outright about the man, so he’d be reduced to hoping Tank let something slip.

Kenneth cast a look at the huge man walking next to him out of the corner of his eye. Yeah, the chances of a man like Tank letting something accidentally slip seemed about as likely as CJ showing up on his doorstep asking to be roommates again.

They walked across the street, heading for the main ER entrance instead of the ambulance bay. They were almost to the door when Tank coughed, drawing Kenneth’s full attention.

“I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait. You won’t have to keep me company all night or anything. I’ll call someone once I get some information.” Tank sounded… odd. Almost awkward, like he was trying really hard to put Kenneth at ease.

Whatever the reason, Kenneth still appreciated it. The last few times he’d had interactions with the man, it had seemed like Tank could barely stand him. Which Kenneth couldn’t blame him for—in fact, he was surprised Tank hadn’t been more openly hostile. He seemed very protective of CJ, and Kenneth had just stood by and let Tim and his parents hurt him.

If someone did that to a person he loved, he’d probably be a bit testy too.

Pulling open one side of the double doors, he smiled as Tank stepped inside the bright and bustling emergency room. “I can wait as long as you need. I’m off tomorrow.”

Which was a lie. He worked every other weekend, and tomorrow and Sunday were his scheduled days, but he could make it through a shift on little to no sleep if he had to. He’d done it before. For some reason, being there for Tank felt important. There was a helplessness in the man’s eyes Kenneth recognized, and he couldn’t just leave him by himself.

“Thanks, Ken.”

He grimaced and followed Tank inside. He was probably going to break out in hives at the anxiety it caused, but he really needed to start correcting people. And if Tank was a jerk about it… Well, Kenneth could just leave, his sad eyes be damned. He didn’t owe him anything.

His stomach clenched uncomfortably despite his mini pep talk to himself.

“Um, it’s actually Kenneth.”

Tank’s eyebrows went up as he paused a few feet inside the door, but he didn’t react any other way. “Alright, man. I’ll let CJ and the others know.”

Face hot and a little shaky, Kenneth dropped his eyes even as he smiled in gratitude. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat and gestured at the chairs nearby. “You can sit there. If you tell me your friend’s name, I can go find out what’s happening with her.”

When Tank hesitated, glancing at the door that led back to the exam rooms and trauma bays and back at Kenneth, he backtracked, realizing what he’d just done. He wasn’t there as a nurse; he was just… a friend. Not even really that.

And someone like Tank? He probably didn’t appreciate anyone ever telling him what to do. Definitely didn’t crave it the way Kenneth did late at night when he couldn’t stop himself from imagining a certain other biker ordering him to his knees.

Clearing his throat and ignoring the blush in his cheeks, he clenched his hands to keep them at his sides and off his glasses and murmured, “Sorry, still in work mode. Um, I can just sit.”

Tank was studying him in a way that made him a little uncomfortable, like he could see all the hidden desires Kenneth did his best to keep locked away when he wasn’t in the privacy of his own home. Even there, he rarely let himself really think about what he truly wanted because it just made him ache down into his bones.

“It’s alright,” Tank said, still watching Kenneth in that penetrating way. “Go ahead. I’ll be right back.”

Kenneth nodded and went to choose a seat, taking his jacket off. He picked a spot that would give them a view of both the entrance and the door that led to the exam rooms, laid his jacket in one chair, and sat in the other. Then he took a deep breath and tried to relax. His job was usually the one place he felt confident in what he was doing and saying, and it was really messing with his head to be in the hospital but not in that capacity. Why had he thought Tank could tell anything about him just by looking?

He shook his head at himself and took another breath.

Tank had probably been wondering why he was acting so strangely.

Sighing, he pulled out his phone, then shoved it back into his pocket, not wanting to look like he was preoccupied in case Tank needed something. When the man turned away from the registration desk, he was frowning and staring down at his own cell before bringing it up to his ear. He stepped off to the side and had what looked like an intense conversation with someone. A couple of times, Kenneth could have sworn Tank had cracked a smile, and once—toward the end—he’d glanced over at Kenneth. When he finally hung up several minutes later and headed over to where Kenneth was waiting, he still had a tension running through him that was palpable, but he seemed like he wasn’t as angry.

Even knowing it wasn’t his business, he couldn’t stop himself from softly asking, “Everything okay?” as he moved his coat out of the way just before Tank sank into the chair.

Tank sighed and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Hopefully. The woman the club usually uses as a point of contact here is apparently on vacation. So there’s some… confusion. Should get cleared up soon though.”

Kenneth turned Tank’s words over in his head a few times, but they still didn’t quite make sense. “Your motorcycle club has a personal contact person at the hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Of course,” Kenneth said quickly, shoulders curling over as he wrapped his arms around himself. You are not actually friends with these people. “I’m sorry for prying.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” One of Tank’s huge hands landed on his arm, and he jumped at the unexpected touch.

“Sorry,” Kenneth said again, grimacing at himself. He simply wasn’t used to people touching him in any way but professionally. It had been almost a year since he’d moved out of Tim’s place, his one date had been a complete bust, and even though his younger brother, Kip, had moved back to Michigan to attend college, Kenneth rarely saw him, let alone got to hug him.

Tank made a huffing sort of sound, not dropping his hand right away. In fact, he gave Kenneth’s arm a small squeeze, and it warmed his insides in an unfamiliar way. “Don’t apologize for that,” he growled, slowly letting go. “I touched you unexpectedly and without your permission. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

He jerked his head up, twisting to stare at Tank, whose face was serious. Well, that… was unexpected. And really freaking sweet. No one had ever apologized to him for something like that before. He smiled softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you for saying so.” Tank’s brown eyes ran over Kenneth’s face, and then he nodded for some reason before relaxing back in his chair once more. “And you weren’t prying. I just can’t tell you about club business.”

“Okay,” he murmured, still staring at the side of Tank’s face and trying to place the feeling he was experiencing. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure,” Tank said easily, shrugging.

“How did you and CJ meet?”

A huge smile unlike any Kenneth had seen on the man before spread across his face. “That’s a good story. Sure you don’t want to hear it from him?”

He nodded, returning the grin. “I’m sure.”

As Tank launched into what Kenneth was sure was a highly edited version of how he and CJ had been paired up as pen pals while Tank was incarcerated and fallen in love, Kenneth realized what the feeling was he’d been trying to figure out.

Acceptance.

For the first time in a long time, he was making what felt like a true connection to someone outside his family. Not just because he worked with them and they eventually fell into a sort of pseudo-friendship like he and Stef had where they’d maybe hang out sometimes but more often than not canceled on each other without hard feelings.

This… It went deeper. Tank seemed to see him—maybe even some of the things he normally wanted to keep hidden—and accepted all of him without blinking an eye.

He wasn’t sure what had changed since his last run-in with the man, but he hoped it didn’t change back. He had a feeling Tank would be a damn good friend to have.

On the heels of that realization was another one, one that saddened him, popping his tiny balloon of hope:

There was no way he could be friends with CJ’s husband.

2

“We’re not a BDSM club.”

Demarcus “Houston” Monroe grinned, settling more comfortably onto the couch in Tomas’s office and spreading his arms along the back. The Devil’s Hands Motorcycle Club’s president could be prickly as hell, but he sure knew how to buy comfortable furniture. “Yes. I am aware of that.”

Tomas looked up from the papers he was hunched over at his desk across the room, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. There was a cigarette behind one of his ears, like he’d been meaning to pop outside to smoke it, then been distracted and stuck it there, forgetting as he’d gotten sucked into work. “D, I do not have time for whatever this”—he waved his hand at Houston’s sprawled form—“is. So just spit it out.”

“What I’m saying,” Houston said, extra slowly like he was speaking to a child just to piss Tomas off more, “is that we should host a BDSM-themed party.”

Tomas sighed heavily and pushed his thumb and forefinger into his closed eyes, likely questioning every decision he’d ever made in his life that had led him to that moment. “Why would we do that? We’re a damn motorcycle club.”

“Oh really? And here I thought all the motorcycle memorabilia on the walls were hiding whips and chains.”

“Demarcus.”

“Have you seen this place lately?” Houston flicked his fingers in the direction the rest of the clubhouse was, just outside Tomas’s office. There was music playing just loud enough that the bass was audible even with the door shut. Houston was actually surprised Tomas was still working and not out there socializing or at the club’s bar just up the driveway trolling for a willing boy or girl—or both—to suck his dick.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, Six’s boy struts around the place in his tiny little skirts and heels, serving him beer and food and kneeling at his feet, and CJ gave Tank a fucking blowjob while some of us were watching a movie the other night.”

Tomas shifted in his seat, and Houston’s grin widened.

“Oh, you hadn’t heard about that yet?”

“No,” Tomas said, then cleared his throat. “But I still don’t see why we need to have a kink party. None of us have ever been that discreet about sex, so what’s the big deal?”

“Well, some of the guys are getting… jealous.”

That caught Tomas’s attention, his spine stiffening and eyes narrowing. “What the fuck do you mean jealous? Like they want to fuck CJ and Ollie? Six and Tank would skin them alive—”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, then tilted his head. “Well, okay, some of them probably do. Can you really blame them though? But”—he raised his voice a little to cut off Tomas before he could explode out of his chair—“that’s not what I’m getting at. Some of the members have expressed an interest in finding boys and girls of their own who aren’t so… vanilla.”

Tomas just stared at him for a long moment, jaw still tense. “And you think a BDSM-themed party is the way to help them out? You honestly think… subs or whatever will be comfortable with just showing up at a random biker bar—in the middle of basically nowhere, mind you—to have kinky sex?”

“Actually,” he said, knowing Tomas was going to hate what he was about to suggest even more than the party itself, “I was thinking we should have it here at the clubhouse. It’s more secure, has a larger open space to set up demos, and there are bedrooms upstairs—”

“You want to let strangers into the clubhouse so the boys can have freaky-ass sex?”

That was just rude.

Dropping his grin and his arms, he pushed up from the couch. “You’re one to judge. How many people were in your bed last night, prez?”

“Watch it,” Tomas grumbled, but he had at least lost some of the edge to his voice and probably would have looked contrite if he wasn’t so busy being annoyed by Houston.

“I’m just saying we should think about it. We could easily come up with a way to make it safe for everyone involved. Maybe charge a small cover to keep out anyone who wasn’t serious about meeting other kink-positive folks. And we could team up with an already established club so people would know we were legit and have them send some of their members to do the demos.” Houston knew exactly who he could call to make that happen, but he wasn’t ready to completely show his hand yet. He and Tomas had been friends for a long time, but he didn’t know everything about Houston. “Though there would obviously be a bigger crowd in a larger city, I think you’d be surprised how many folks around here would be into a party like this.”

Tomas grumbled something under his breath as he tapped his pen on his desk and glared up at him. Houston knew he had him won over when he sighed and laid the pen down. “Do other members really want this? Or are you just being lazy about driving all the way to your club and decided this would be easier?”

Houston’s mouth dropped open for a second before he snapped it shut. “How did you…”

Grinning, Tomas leaned his chair back. “You and I don’t have secrets from each other, D.”

He was busy trying to decide if Tomas had followed him or just found a way to track his phone, so he didn’t notice right away that Tomas had stood until he’d come around his desk and clapped a hand on Houston’s shoulder, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke that was becoming more and more common lately wafting into his nose. He was actually getting used to the smell again, but he still wanted Tomas—and the couple of other guys who still smoked—to quit.

“I’m sorry about the freaky-ass comment,” Tomas said, serious and sincere. “That was uncalled for.”

Houston narrowed his eyes. “Are you sorry for tracking my every move like a stalker?”

Tomas’s tanned face split into a wide grin. “Not even a little, brother. It’s what you get for going off the grid for two days. I couldn’t risk not knowing anymore, not with the work we do.”

“Ahh.” Realization hit him like a lightning strike. About a year back, he’d spent a whole weekend at his other club with a gymnast he’d met who’d looked fantastic in his ropes. He’d been so consumed by her and their scenes, he hadn’t even noticed his phone had died at some point until he’d gone to drive home, sated and dehydrated. “That was a hell of a weekend.”

Tomas snorted. “I’m sure it was.”

“And other guys have said things, asshole,” Houston said, shoving at Tomas’s chest before heading toward the door. “So is that a yes?”

Sighing again, Tomas said, “It’s a seriously reluctant one. This needs to be well planned, D. No winging things and risking someone getting hurt or the fucking cops getting called.”

He waved a hand over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

“Anything gets broken and you pay for it.”

He was laughing as he left Tomas’s office, feeling lighter than he had in quite a while. For so long, he’d thought he had to keep a part of himself hidden, tucked out of sight of the MC. He’d feared none of them would understand, that they’d judge him and his desires as deviant.

Like his brother had.

Their last conversation had been over two years ago and had gotten ugly.

But then CJ and Tank had shown up, and members started whispering about what the two of them got up to in their room… with Six. And then Knuckles tatted Property of Daddy on the boy’s ass.

Houston had thought about approaching them, offering to introduce them to others in the area who were in the scene, but had hesitated. For months, he’d watched, waiting for some… sign. He’d wanted to be sure before spilling his private business to people he didn’t really know that well. But from what he could tell, Tank was only CJ’s Daddy in the bedroom, and they weren’t really into the lifestyle.

So he’d held his tongue.

And then Ollie had burst onto the scene with his tiny skirts and knelt at Six’s feet in front of half the club.

Those were his kind of people.

Before he’d had a chance to speak to the two of them, three separate members had approached him, wondering if he knew how they could find someone like Ollie or CJ. With the first guy, he’d thought somehow folks had found out about him. But he’d realized quickly that it was the same reason members came to him about anything else. They just felt comfortable talking to him.

Now, he just needed to figure out how to talk to Six and Ollie and see if they’d be interested in helping him plan the party. Well… probably just Ollie. And maybe CJ since those two were attached at the hip.

He thought about how much work Tank had done for the fundraiser last year and decided he might draft him into helping too.

As the thought crossed his mind, his phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled at Tank’s name. “Hey, man. You upstairs? I was just going to come talk to you.”

“No,” Tank said, voice serious. He was never exactly sunshine and daisies, but there was an edge there that Houston had never heard before. “I’m at the hospital.”

For a split second, fear crawled down his limbs, freezing him in place, the noise of the club dimming to almost nothing as he focused on Tank’s voice. Was it CJ? Viper? Tay?

Realization hit him right before the words did.

“She seemed totally fine when she called the phone, Houston. I swear to god.” Tank was getting agitated, voice raising a little. “If I’d known what that motherfucker was going to do, I wouldn’t have gone alone.”

Tank was on red phone duty.

Tank was on red phone duty, and he was at the hospital.

“Fuck,” Houston hissed, spinning on his heel and storming back into Tomas’s office. He kicked the door shut behind him and ignored Tomas’s outraged yell. “Okay, Tank. I’m going to put you on speaker with me and Tomas. Tell us exactly what you saw and anything she said to you.”

Tomas immediately went silent, half standing and tossing aside the papers in his hands. As soon as the phone was held out between them, the faint sound of the hospital coming through in the quiet office, Tomas asked, “You hurt, brother?”

Houston felt like the lowest of dirtbags for not having already asked that. The calls he and the other Devil’s Hands members went out on could go sideways in an instant, and more than one guy had ended up in the ER or getting patched up by Six afterward.

But when the red phone rang, you fucking answered and responded.

They rotated turns—though some of them ended up taking more shifts than others—and when it was your turn, you carried that thing with you everywhere and kept it charged up. Houston had answered in the middle of showers, sex—even a dentist appointment once. Didn’t matter. Because the person on the other end of the line wasn’t calling to chitchat about the weather.

They needed help.

The life-or-death kind.

As Tank reassured them he was fine and told them about the call he’d gotten from a woman roughly an hour ago, Tomas pulled out his own phone and began typing out relevant details. Houston knew without having to ask that he was going to send the information to the director of SAVE, the domestic violence shelter the MC worked with. The shelter employees and volunteers were the ones who handed out the fake plumber business cards to anyone they thought might need immediate help.

“Where was her husband when you got there?” Houston interrupted to ask.

“Ghosted. She said he’d taken her car keys and the little bit of cash in her purse and ran out of the house right before I got there.” There was an almost imperceptible tremble to Tank’s voice, and Houston and Tomas exchanged glances.

“And she was conscious when the ambulance got there?” Tomas asked, shooting off a text and then immediately starting another one without waiting for the director to respond.

“Barely,” Tank murmured. “I’ve never… I don’t know how she was still awake and talking. I’ve seen some shit since starting this but never the aftermath of that kind of brutality.”

Houston swallowed, squeezing his phone until his knuckles were white. “You did the right thing. You got her help and stayed with her.”

“Gayle just said she’s on her way,” Tomas said, holding up his cell for a second, then tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll probably beat her there though. Don’t let the hospital staff drive you off—”

“I’ll go,” Houston said quickly, following Tomas as he headed toward his office door. “You need to get Cynthia and Frank on the phone and coordinate with them and us. And you need to do that without nosy nurses eavesdropping on you.”

The last part was said with a half smile, but it was one hundred percent true. No one needed to see the kind of power and authority the president of the local motorcycle club wielded. Cynthia may have been the club’s lawyer—and Houston’s sister—but Frank Scott was a county deputy during the day, and his loyalty to the club needed to stay quiet.

“Fine. Go, but keep me updated, D. We don’t leave that woman alone until we know for sure she’s going to be safe.”

“Heard,” Houston said, already turning away. He hit the button on his cell to turn off speakerphone and raised it once more to his ear as he headed out. “You get all that?”

Tank grunted. “I heard. Thanks for coming, man. No one will tell me jack because I’m not her family. Like her fucking family isn’t who put her in here.”

Grimacing, he sped through the clubhouse. “I know. Try to keep your cool. Once Gayle and I get there, we’ll find someone who’s high enough up the food chain to help us out.”

“I can’t believe Naomi went on vacation and didn’t tell us,” Tank grumbled. Naomi was their normal contact at the hospital, a nursing supervisor who worked nights in the ER mostly and could get them access and information they normally wouldn’t have.

“She might have,” Houston felt the need to say, to defend the woman who had risked her job more than once for them and their cause. “Tomas’s inbox is… out of control.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tank barked, then immediately lowered his voice, hissing, “How could he let that happen?”

Houston didn’t respond right away, nearing his motorcycle. The truth was, Tomas was handling too much. Because of the way their club worked, there was a lot of very important shit to keep track of, and a lot of it, Tomas didn’t trust anyone else to handle. Things like liaising with Gayle Heller from SAVE and Deputy Scott. Hell, Cynthia was his fucking sister, but he knew that if their mom didn’t make them come for Sunday dinner every week, he’d see her less often than Tomas did.

The man was a control freak, and it was going to bite them all in the ass one day. Probably way worse than missing an email letting them know Naomi was going to be out of town.

“He’s working on it,” Houston finally said, not wanting to get into a larger discussion. He wanted to get to the hospital as soon as he could—not only for that poor woman but for Tank, who sounded shaken up in a way he’d never heard before. “He’s interviewed like ten people to come on as an assistant.”

“He wants to hire a civilian assistant?” Tank sounded shocked. Houston had been too, at first.

“There’s no one in the club with the skill set to do the job.” He reached his bike and threw a leg over, settling on her sleek black form. “Not even one of the prospects.”

Of which they were down to two—having cut one loose a couple of months ago for failing to follow basic orders. For a third time.

“Damn. And he hasn’t had any luck?”

“Nope. Said only three of them were even remotely qualified, and two of those hit on him during the second interview. Apparently his reputation as a manwhore is hurting the process.”

Tank snorted a laugh. “What about the third?”

Houston shrugged, fiddling with the buckle on his helmet. “Not sure. He just said she wouldn’t be able to handle… everything.”

Everything being things like what had happened at the house Tank had been called out to, no doubt.

Making a thoughtful noise, Tank said, “Maybe CJ could help out while he’s still apprenticing. He’s good with people and shit.”

Houston smiled at the pride in Tank’s voice despite the rough words. No one was ever prouder of CJ and his accomplishments than Tank. “Maybe. Double-check with him that he’d be interested, and I’ll run it by Tomas if he is.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I’ll be there in just a few,” he said, preparing to hang up, but Tank cleared his throat, stopping him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just… CJ’s old roommate is here. He saw me arrive, and I told him a friend had been brought in, so he offered to sit and wait with me.”

The words hit him in the chest and nuts as the image of the sexy guy who’d come to stitch up Six a couple of months ago popped into his head. That he’d offered to sit and wait with Tank—a man he barely even knew—just so he didn’t have to be by himself spoke volumes about him as far as Houston was concerned. It made sense that he’d be so compassionate though, being a nurse.

“Ken’s there?”

“He actually prefers Kenneth, but yeah. I just… thought I’d mention it before you rolled up in here all pissed off and barking orders.”

Houston snorted. “You have me confused with Tomas.”

Tank chuckled. “Yeah, fair enough.” He sobered quickly, though, and added, “But still… there’s something almost fragile about him. The way he holds himself and speaks… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just seeing shit because of the night I’ve had.”

Anger lit up his belly at what Tank was implying. Had someone in Kenneth’s past hurt him? Was he seeing someone now who was?

“Keep an eye on him,” Houston said, hoarse. “I’ll be there soon.”

They hung up a second later, and Houston didn’t waste time thinking about all the bad shit that could have happened to Kenneth in his past, pulling on his helmet and firing up his Harley.

Kenneth.

Why did CJ call him Ken?

He shook off that question too as he sped toward the gate that had been left open like it often was on weekends so members could come and go more easily while they met up and partied at the clubhouse or bar.

He tried to focus on Tank and the woman they were helping, but he couldn’t get big, soulful eyes out of his head. For months, he’d been haunted by them and cursed himself for not getting the boy’s number before he slipped away that night. And then cursed Six for having him come take his stitches out when Houston wasn’t at the clubhouse.

The temptation to bribe the boy’s number from CJ had been strong, but he’d held back, a niggling worry persisting. If the boy had been interested at all, why would he have run that first night? Houston had made his interest clear, calling Kenneth gorgeous and watching him as much as he could as he helped clean up the mess made by the asshole who’d attacked Six.

And when Kenneth had come to the clubhouse, he hadn’t asked about Houston. That he’d caved to ask CJ about, pretending to be annoyed when CJ had gently teased him about his interest. But when he’d finally grimaced and said he couldn’t remember if Kenneth had asked about him, Houston had known the truth. CJ was just too nice to tell him to his face that Kenneth hadn’t mentioned him at all.

As drawn to the boy as Houston was—fuck, how could he not be with eyes filled with yearning and such a caring nature—he wouldn’t hurt both of them by pursuing something Kenneth wasn’t interested in.

He shivered as he leaned into a turn, imagining his teal rope wrapped around Kenneth’s golden-brown body.

Not happening.

He reminded himself of that over and over as he neared the hospital, doing his best to put his game face on. He was there to do a job, to help a woman who’d been hurt by the one person who should have always loved and protected her, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted.

No matter how much his body heated at just the memory of the boy’s submissive, downturned eyes.

3

Kenneth couldn’t stop thinking about the casual way Tank had told him he’d moved across the country to be with CJ—and they hadn’t even met in person yet.

And he hated himself a little bit for how jealous it made him of CJ.

He carefully maneuvered through the busy ER, mindful of the full cups of hot coffee he was carrying. The coffee in the nurses’ lounge was always way better than anything else he’d found in the hospital, so he’d offered to get some for him and Tank. So of course there hadn’t been a lid in sight, and he’d had to carry both paper cups gingerly through the hospital hallways.

At least it was sort of distracting him from his negative thoughts about how no one would ever love him as much as Tank had loved CJ before they’d even met.

Whoops.

Or not.

Sighing, he stepped into the ER’s waiting room and headed for the chairs where he and Tank had been sitting before freezing a few feet away when he realized both seats were empty. His coat was still draped over his own, but there was no sign of the big biker. Assuming he’d gone to the restroom or to make another phone call, Kenneth carefully set Tank’s cup down on the little, rickety table at the end of their row, then grabbed his coat and moved down so they’d be sitting closer to it.

He was almost halfway through his cup and beginning to wonder if something had happened to cause Tank not to come back when black leather caught his eye.

Lifting his head, he sucked in a breath at the sight of Tank standing next to a couple of women and Houston. Tall, dark skin, and so handsome it made Kenneth’s palms sweat just to look at him, Houston was facing mostly away from where Kenneth was sitting, but he could see enough of his strong face to tell he wasn’t happy. His jaw was tense, and his mouth was tugged down in a frown as he listened to one of the women—a nursing supervisor Kenneth didn’t know well—as she appeared to be doing her best to placate him.

The other woman was dressed in a pantsuit, and her hair was perfectly done despite the late hour. As Kenneth watched, she held up a hand, and the supervisor stopped talking, cheeks flushing and shaking her head as the other woman said something.

That wasn’t the answer the other three wanted. Tank and Houston looked downright pissed off, the woman frustrated as she pulled out her phone and started typing on it.

Whatever was happening, Kenneth didn’t appear to be needed anymore. Tank was no longer dealing with things alone, and Kenneth should just head home to try and get some sleep before he had to be back at the hospital in the morning. It had been a long, busy day before Brock or Tank had shown up, and now he was exhausted.

He cast a disappointed look toward Houston’s broad shoulders, wishing he had some reason to go over and say hello that wouldn’t be embarrassingly obvious. Even if he just approached to say goodbye to Tank, he’d feel foolish. They were in the middle of discussing serious things—for all he knew, the friend Tank had followed to the ER was someone important to Houston.

His stomach rolled as he realized he might have been sitting there, staring lustfully, while Houston’s girlfriend or wife was clinging to life.

He knew practically nothing about the man; it was possible.

Mind made up, he stood, tossed his unfinished coffee in a nearby trash can, and shrugged into his peacoat. If his past taste in men had taught him anything, it was that he should just expect the worst. That way, it wouldn’t be a disappointment when they turned out to be garbage human beings.

He didn’t bother looking over at Tank and Houston as he slipped out of the ER, heading straight for the parking garage across the street. The sun had set, and the temperature had dropped along with it, the cool dampness making him shiver.

His phone vibrated against his leg, startling him. He grinned when he saw his younger sister’s name though. She was just the distraction he needed after his weird evening. So often, he felt like he was awkward and off-putting—too shy to make real friends and too picky to find an actual boyfriend. But with his siblings, he could just be himself. No pretenses. No strained silences.

Just love and affection—except when they drove him crazy. But that was what family was for.

Kat: I’m in crisis.

He snorted. She was nineteen—she was always in crisis.

Kenneth: Are you pregnant?

As predicted, his phone started ringing in his hand almost immediately. He did his best to hold in his laughter as he answered. “Hey, Kat.”

“How dare you even put such a thought out into the universe!” she screeched.

“It’s a legitimate question,” he teased, heading for the stairs at the south end of the parking structure. There was an elevator, but they made him claustrophobic, so he used stairs whenever possible. “I know you’re sexually active—”

“Gah! Why would you say that?”

“And contraceptives aren’t—”

“Kenneth! Oh my god, stop,” she said, but she was laughing. “You’re so awful. I don’t know why I bother.”

He smiled softly at her familiar exasperation, even though it made him ache with how much he missed her. “I suppose you’ll just never learn.”

She grumbled something under her breath as he pushed into the stairwell, so he missed what it was, the echo of someone else’s footsteps loud in the enclosed space.

“What was that?”

“Never mind,” she said. “Can we get back to my crisis? My real one, not the ridiculous, made-up one you came up with.”

“I didn’t make it up,” he argued as he started up the stone steps. “I was just asking if that was what the crisis was.”

“Mhm. Well, no, I am not pregnant. I’m dating a woman right now anyway, just so you know.”

He smiled again, stepping out of the way as a couple passed him going down. “Good to know. Though sexually transmitted diseases within same-sex couples—”

“Kenneth!”

“Yes, Kat?” he asked, not even bothering to keep the laughter out of his voice. He heard someone chuckle below him as he started up the second flight, and he paused for just a second, peering down over the railing, but couldn’t see anyone. He shrugged as he kept going, his car parked where it always was on the third floor.

“You’re a terrible brother,” Kat said, drawing his attention back to her. “I should have called Kip. His advice is generally no better than a magic eight ball, but at least he doesn’t try and talk to me about the clap or suggest I’m knocked up.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m a terrific brother,” he argued. “But I’m also a healthcare professional. Besides, Kip wouldn’t have answered. It’s Friday night, and he’s a freshman. I’m the best you can do.”

Kip should be studying for his upcoming finals, but Kenneth wasn’t holding his breath. He was just grateful his brother had come back home for college, even if he rarely saw him unless he needed money for food or to wash his laundry at Kenneth’s apartment. Kat had stayed in Florida for college and still lived with their dad, feeling like she needed to keep an eye on their baby sister, Kendra, who was only fifteen.

“You already gave me the safe-sex talk,” she reminded him. “It traumatized us both.”

He laughed gently. “I wasn’t traumatized. But fine, what is your actual crisis?”

He paused on the third-floor landing and leaned his back against the wall facing the door, eyes falling shut as Kat launched into her story. Unsurprisingly, it revolved around their dad being an asshole to her… again. He gritted his teeth as he listened to her, her voice thickening with tears as she repeated the things he’d said. Not just that evening—but things he’d thrown at her over the last couple of weeks. As far as Kenneth could tell, things were only getting worse between her and their dad.

When she finally slowed down, her tiny sniffles killing him, he said softly, “Why don’t you transfer to school here? Or just move here and establish residency with me and reapply in a year or two. You can’t stay there.”

“What about Kendra?” Kat asked, but her normal vigor was gone. He knew her—better than he knew anyone else in the world—and he knew she was exhausted.

“She’d understand, and she’d be okay without you,” he said, voice soft. He absently heard someone coming up the steps next to him, but he didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He was so tired. Tired from his shift, and from Brock, and from wanting things he couldn’t have with Houston, and now his precious sister… “She doesn’t look like Mom. Not like the rest of us, and especially not like you do. He doesn’t treat her like crap like he does you.”

Kat sucked in a hiccupping breath. “I try so hard to stay out of his way…”

“I know. It’s not your fault. Please, just come home.”

He expected a quick “I can’t” like he always got when he suggested she move back to Michigan, but she just took a shuddering breath and said she’d think about it.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I love you, Kitty Kat.”

She gave him a watery laugh. “Love you too. Even when you drive me crazy.”

They said goodbye, and he shoved his phone away. Crossing his arms over his face, he pressed his glasses into his face and took a few deep breaths, willing away the tears. All he wanted in that moment was a pair of strong arms to wrap around him and hold him tight, a voice whispering in his ear that he was okay and that he was doing the right thing. He imagined big, strong hands wrapping around his wrists and squeezing to let him know he was safe as the man those hands belonged to promised to take care of him and his siblings and never let him go—

A throat cleared a few feet away, and he startled so hard he banged his head back against the cement wall behind him, his arms shooting out to his sides and eyes flying open.

Oh god.

“Houston,” he croaked, staring into the face of the one person he really shouldn’t be anywhere near when he was feeling so… needy.

“Hi.” His handsome face split into a sheepish grin, showing off perfect white teeth. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I didn’t want to interrupt your call, but I wanted to talk to you before you left.”

Gathering himself, Kenneth swiped at his dry cheeks before running his fingers through his hair to make sure it was still orderly and touching the arms of his glasses. He coughed lightly to clear the emotions out of his throat and tugged at the hem of his coat to straighten it, feeling like he needed thicker armor to withstand the piercing eyes of the man in front of him. He didn’t meet Houston’s gaze as he said, “That was a private conversation.”

Houston didn’t say anything for a moment, but he did cross his big arms over his chest, and Kenneth realized the man wasn’t wearing a coat. And he hadn’t been in the hospital either. Nothing but dark brown skin and what looked like the softest gray V-neck covered his torso. He tried not to stare at how large his biceps and shoulders looked or how the material clung to the hard lines of Houston’s chest and abdomen. He definitely didn’t peek at the tattoos running down one arm and poking out from the edge of his sleeve on the other.

“And that’s why I apologized,” Houston said, his voice a little firmer. “Despite the fact that your private conversation was in a public setting.”

His face heated at the gentle reprimand even as his dick stirred, and he ducked his head further. A part of him wished he’d just continued to his car instead of pausing to finish his conversation in the stairwell, but the rest of him wondered what Houston would do if Kenneth pushed a little harder, got a little brattier. But he shook off the idea before it could even take root. Not only was it really not in his nature to be any kind of brat—he refused to even let himself contemplate Houston correcting his behavior like they were in some sort of relationship.

Besides, Houston was right. Kenneth couldn’t be upset someone had heard him when he’d known he wasn’t alone.

And he wasn’t upset, not really. He was embarrassed that someone he knew—even if only a little—had maybe heard him talking about his family’s dirty laundry and was maybe judging him. How much had Houston heard? Did he know now that Kenneth’s dad was an abusive jerk to Kat?

Did Houston think less of him now? Either from coming from a family like that or for not doing a good enough job protecting his sister?

It was so dumb. He had no business caring what the man may or may not have heard or should have even been giving him a second thought. He’s probably married, remember?

Wrapping his arms around himself, he did his best to meet Houston’s eyes and at least pretend he was a fully functioning adult. “Of course. Um… Did you or Tank need something before I left?”

Maybe they wanted him to explain something the nursing supervisor had said? The medical terms and jargon could be overwhelming for families; he saw it all the time, especially with the parents of his kiddos. Er, patients. They were his patients, not his kids, and he was professional enough not to get overly attached.

Or, at least, that was what he told his own supervisor whenever she got on his case.

“No, it wasn’t that.” Houston’s posture shifted, his arms lowering and hands tucking into the pockets of his dark jeans.

Kenneth had a feeling that he was trying to look relaxed and casual so Kenneth would relax, but there was just something about him that made him seem like he was never truly at ease. That he could pounce at a moment’s notice. Kenneth refused to think about what it would be like to have Houston pounce on him.

“I wanted to thank you, for staying with him.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Kenneth said, squinting in confusion. He hadn’t done it for Houston—he hadn’t even known Houston was coming. “No one should have to sit and wait for news about a loved one by themselves.”

Houston was studying him, like Tank had in the ER, only with more… intensity. It made him shiver and bite down on his lip, eyes dropping for a second before he forced himself to raise them once more.

“I’m still grateful,” Houston said softly, taking a step closer. “And I’d like to repay you.”

Kenneth stared at him. “Repay me how?”

Houston’s dark eyes ran down Kenneth’s body, slowly, then returned to his flushed face. He grinned, but it wasn’t reassuring. It was… predatory.

And arousing.

Dear god was it arousing.

Kenneth had never wanted to be prey more in his life.

“Your choice.” Houston held his hand out between them. “Give me your phone. Unlocked.”

Kenneth was handing it over before he’d really thought about it, the smooth command going straight into his brain and lighting up the part of him that had been sparked that night at the MC’s clubhouse. He made a noise of protest when Houston started tapping at the screen, but Houston ignored him. A moment later, he handed it back as he pulled his own out.

He glanced down, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw that Houston had added his number to Kenneth’s contacts and then texted himself. So now he had Kenneth’s number too.

“Give me a call or shoot me a text when you decide what you want.”

“What I want?” Kenneth croaked, having trouble focusing. There were so, so many things he wanted.

“For repayment,” Houston said, smile widening. “For taking care of someone who’s like a brother to me.”

Kenneth stared up at him, mind frozen. That was the only excuse he had for why he blurted out, “Was it your wife in the ambulance?”

Houston barked out a laugh. “No. She’s… more of a friend of a friend.” He sobered, his gaze turning toward the wall like he could see the hospital on the other side. “I should get back though.”

“Okay,” he said, feeling numb with shock and buzzing with adrenaline all at the same time. What was this man doing to him?

Instead of stepping away though, Houston moved closer. Kenneth couldn’t shuffle back, already pressed against the wall behind him, and even though Houston didn’t touch him or cage him in with his arms, it didn’t matter. The look in his eyes was enough to ensnare Kenneth.

Gracious, he really was the prey to his predator.

“But I need you to know, I’m not the kind of man who would be standing here in this dim stairwell, hitting on you, while his spouse was injured in the hospital.”

Kenneth’s whole body flushed hot at the words hitting on, his nails digging into his palms as he squeezed them into tight fists to stop himself from reaching out to see if his shirt was as soft as it looked. “You’re… hitting on me?”

He’d known it, but it was also just so hard for him to believe. What did a man like Houston—who was handsome and dangerous and scared of nothing—see in someone like him? He was okay-looking, but other than that? He was awkward and needy, and he dreamed of desires he’d never have the guts to ask for. Even if a man like Houston, whose membership in a motorcycle club suggested he didn’t give a crap what anyone thought or what societal expectations were, was more likely to say yes than someone like Brock.

Hoping for something like that felt terrifying.

And exciting in a way Kenneth had never experienced before.

Houston’s lips twisted in a half smile. “Trying to.”

“Oh,” he whispered, unsure what else to say.

Houston watched him for a few more moments, then took a step back, and the air between them began to cool. “Think about what you want, gorgeous, and let me know.”

Sucking in a breath, Kenneth could only nod.

4

Being sleep-deprived was the only excuse Kenneth could come up with for how he’d gotten himself into his current situation.

He’d barely slept the last few nights, his mind playing over the interaction with Houston in the parking garage stairwell so many times he could practically recite every word from memory. Then he’d worked all weekend on top of that. So when his phone had rung first thing Monday morning, he’d barely been aware he’d answered it.

Until he’d heard CJ’s voice on the other end instead of one of his siblings like he’d been expecting.

And now, he was sitting across from CJ in a diner, tucked into a booth in the back, watching as he studied the menu like there would be a test over it later. Kenneth took the opportunity to look at him in a way he never would feel comfortable doing if CJ was paying attention to him. He looked… good. Though the small stud in his nose had been a surprise when he’d approached the booth.

When they’d lived together, CJ had always looked tired and a little thin, but Kenneth had noticed even in those early Instagram posts that he’d appeared healthier and well rested. Happy.

Tank was good for him, that was for sure. His hair was a little disheveled in a way that made Kenneth think he’d just rolled out of bed and started his day without worrying about styling it. Something Kenneth couldn’t imagine doing, and he had to stop himself from reaching up to check that his waves were still under control just at the thought. CJ’s fitted T-shirt with a flaming skull biting a tattoo machine made Kenneth’s button-up seem like overkill.

What else was new?

Kenneth sipped his coffee and fingered a crack on the corner of his menu. “I’m surprised you invited me here.”

That got CJ to finally look up at him, lowering his menu to the table. “I’m kind of surprised you agreed to come, honestly. Tank said I should give you a chance, so that’s what I’m going to do, but I felt like we needed to clear the air a little, just the two of us.”

He felt his cheeks heating even as he smiled a little. “Tank said that?”

“Yeah.” CJ straightened, eyes narrowing. “Why are you blushing? Are you crushing on my husband?”

“What?” Kenneth stared at him in horror. “No! Of course not.”

“‘Of course not’? What does that mean? Do you think you’re too good for him?”

Kenneth had no idea how he’d gotten himself into this mess or how to get out of it. His heart was racing as he glanced around the half-full diner, automatically looking for an exit in case he had to make a run for it. They probably needed nurses in Alaska. He was sure of it.

Shaking his head, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. “It’s not like that at all. Tank seems great, but I’d never—”

“Oh my god.” CJ started laughing, and Kenneth froze. “I’m sorry. I was just fucking with you, but you freaked out so bad I thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head, and I couldn’t hold it together.”

Kenneth just stared at him as his body slowly relaxed. CJ had a hand over his mouth, covering his wide smile, and Kenneth couldn’t look away, even though he was a little pissed. He’d never met this CJ before. “You were messing with me?”

CJ shrugged. “Yeah. Sorry, you just made it really easy.”

He wasn’t sure what that meant, so he didn’t respond. Clearing his throat, he said, “He told me about how you guys met when I ran into him the other night. It was like a fairy tale. I’d never try and come between that.”

CJ’s face softened. “I appreciate you saying that, though I’m not worried. I know how hot Tank is, so folks look at him all the time, but he’s more than that to me. He’s my everything, and I know he feels the same about me. We’re rock solid.”

Envy burned through Kenneth, and he dropped his gaze to the table, wishing the server would come back and interrupt them. He fidgeted with his glasses, using his fingertips on the arms to push them a little tighter to his face. “You’re lucky.”

“Maybe.” He saw CJ shrug again out of the corner of his eye. “We both went through a lot of awful things before we found each other. Him even more than me. I like to think that we earned each other by making it through.”

Kenneth glanced back up, taking in CJ’s easy smile. “That’s really nice. I… I’m sorry for the part I played in the awful things you had to go through.”

Before CJ could answer, a different server than the one who’d brought their coffee popped up next to them. She was maybe ten years older than him and CJ, with skin a shade lighter than his own, and her smile was huge when she zeroed in on CJ. “Hey, you! How are you, sweetie?”

“Hey, Jill. I’m doing good. Viper keeps me busy, that’s for sure.” CJ grinned up at her. “How are you guys doing? Shannon make Varsity track?”

“She did,” Jill said, beaming with pride. “David and I couldn’t be more proud. He’s at home today though. He and Shawn are both sick, so Shannon and I are trying to stay away from them as much as possible.”

“Oh no. I hope they start to feel better soon.”

“Thanks.”

“Once they’re up for it, we’ll have to have another barbeque at the clubhouse now that the weather is getting nicer.”

“Definitely! Just let us know when and what to bring.”

She glanced over at Kenneth, still smiling, and CJ jolted. “Oh shit, sorry. Jill, this is my friend Kenneth. Kenneth, this is Jill Hopkins. She and her husband own this place, and she’s Tomas’s baby sister.”

Jill laughed. “Once you’re closer to forty than thirty, I don’t think you can be referred to as a baby anything anymore.” She gave CJ’s shoulder a playful shove, and his grin just widened. “It’s nice to meet you, Kenneth.”

Kenneth automatically held out a hand, and she shook it, still smiling in that easy, affectionate way she’d looked at CJ. He hadn’t understood everything she and CJ had been talking about, but he was pretty sure Tomas had been the scary-looking Latino barking orders the night Kenneth had sewn up Six.

What had nearly struck him speechless, though, was the causal way CJ had called him a friend. Like he’d actually meant it. “You too,” he finally said, forcing the words out through the lump in his throat.

“You all know what you want to order?” She nodded at their menus on the table.

He and CJ let her know what they’d decided on, and then she collected the menus and left them to go and check on another table, promising it wouldn’t be too long before their food was ready. Kenneth watched her leave, wondering about the new life CJ had built for himself and the people in it.

“She seems nice,” he said after a few moments, not sure how to get them back to the conversation they’d been in the middle of when she’d arrived. Or how to ask if CJ had meant it when he’d called Kenneth his friend.

“She is. Her husband and kids are too. I like to tell Tomas that Jill got all the manners in their family.” CJ’s phone vibrated on the table between them, and he glanced at it but didn’t pick it up.

“Tomas is the leader of the motorcycle club, right? The one who runs things?”

CJ nodded. “Yeah, he’s the president. Then Houston is the vice president. They sort of run things together.”

Trying to sound casual, Kenneth asked, “Are you close with them? Him and Houston?”

“Houston more than Tomas.” CJ shrugged. “He’s a little easier to get to know. Tomas has a lot of things on his plate and can be kind of… closed off. Not in a mean way, but definitely in a way that doesn’t invite a lot of personal questions. Kind of like you.”

Kenneth jerked back in surprise. “Like me?”

“Sure. How long did we live together?”

He wasn’t sure he liked where the conversation was headed, but it was why they were there. To clear the air between them. So instead of peppering CJ with a dozen more questions about Houston, he said, “About a year.”

Humming, CJ stared at him. “And that whole time, I had no idea you were queer too.”

Kenneth’s breath froze in his lungs before his anger flared red-hot through his veins. What the hell did that even mean? It wasn’t like they’d been friends—oh. That had been his fault, hadn’t it? The reminder defused most of his ire as quickly as it had flared up. “Your point?”

“Listen,” CJ said, waving a hand in the air, “I’m not saying you owed me that or anything. I’m just trying to understand how you could be friends with Tim and all those other… douchenozzles.”

“I wasn’t…” Kenneth sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry about how awful they all were to you. I should have done more to stop them.”

CJ shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize for them. And for the record, I was sort of guessing about the you being gay thing.” He chuckled when Kenneth stared at him with wide eyes. “Though obviously you just confirmed it. I never would have guessed the whole time we lived together, but I noticed a few things the last couple times we were together and put a tentative two and two together.”

“I just thought Tank told you. When he was telling me about you two’s epic love story, I mentioned never having had a guy do anything like that for me.” Kenneth shrugged and squeezed his arms around himself tighter.

“Tank wouldn’t do that,” CJ said, voice soft. “He didn’t say anything to me about what you guys talked about. Just that you sat with him when you didn’t have to during a really shit call.”

His brows furrowed, and he met CJ’s eyes. “Call?”

“Ah shit. Pretend I didn’t say that because I literally am not allowed to talk to you about club business. I only know things because I live there and I’m Tank’s.”

Kenneth waited a second, assuming CJ was going to finish that sentence with husband or partner or whatever term they used for one another. He jolted when he realized CJ wasn’t going to say more. He was Tank’s. Period. Heat flushed through him, and he bit his bottom lip. CJ said it so easily, like Tank’s… ownership was just a given.

He shivered just thinking the word.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he finally said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. “Um, but I do need to apologize to you. Maybe not for how Tim and his friends acted, but for not doing more to protect you. I… I know you might not ever be able to forgive me, but I really am sorry. I let Tim dictate things for a lot longer than I should have. I should have… I should have been braver. I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Look at me.”

He hadn’t even noticed that he’d dropped his eyes to the table between them. Grimacing, he glanced up and shoved his glasses back up, meeting CJ’s searching gaze.

“When you say you let Tim dictate things,” CJ said slowly, like he was trying to fit together puzzle pieces in his head. “What do you mean?”

“We were sort of together.”

CJ stared at him. “Like, as in a couple? Tim’s gay?”

Kenneth grimaced at the volume of CJ’s exclaimed words, but he nodded. “Yes. He will probably never admit it or say the words out loud, but a few months after I moved into his parents’ house—not very long before you arrived, actually—he came into my room late one night when he was really drunk. He was being weird, and I thought he’d figured out I was gay and was pissed about it.”

CJ’s phone vibrated on the table again, but he ignored it, resting his forearms on the paper place mat in front of him and leaning forward. “But it wasn’t that?”

“No. Well, I guess it was partially that he’d figured it out, and that was what gave him the courage to approach me.” Kenneth tilted his head, thinking back to that night. “I stood up from my bed and started to say something, and he just… grabbed me and kissed me. It was super awkward and kind of gross because of how drunk he was.”

Slapping a hand over his mouth, CJ laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. My mind is just blown over here.”

Kenneth smiled softly. “I get it. I was really surprised too. For weeks, he acted like it never happened and would storm out of the room if I tried to talk to him about it. Then one night, he got drunk again, and it happened again. Except that time, he… Well, he wanted to do more than kiss me.”

CJ’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh. I really don’t want to think about Tim asking to suck your dick.”

It was Kenneth’s turn to burst out laughing, cheeks flaming. He planted his elbows on the table and covered his face as CJ started to chuckle too. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

That made CJ laugh louder. “That’s adorable. Wait until you hang out with Ollie for more than twenty minutes as you put in or remove stitches from Six. The things that boy says…”

The unspoken implication that Kenneth would be allowed to spend more time with CJ and his friends hit him hard, sobering his mirth and making his eyes sting as he dropped his hands. “He seems colorful,” he said softly.

“He is that.” CJ smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why Ken? Tank told everyone that you actually prefer Kenneth, and I can’t figure out why, for a year, I only knew you as Ken.”

He sighed, then paused as Jill approached their booth, carrying two plates of food. They both leaned back as she set them down, and after they reassured her they were all set, she left them to it.

“Tim and I were in the same grade in school,” Kenneth started, cutting into his pancakes, and CJ nodded. “But we weren’t friends then. It wasn’t until we both ended up at a bonfire a couple years ago that we actually got to know each other, and he called me Ken from the beginning. I corrected him at first, and it became… sort of like a game. Or, I guess, it was his way of flirting, maybe. He told me, after I’d moved in and a few months after we started messing around, that he didn’t like Kenneth because it made me sound pretentious and too good for him.”

CJ raised his brows. “I feel like for him, that’s a compliment.”

“It felt that way in the moment. It felt… sweet.” Kenneth shrugged as he took a bite and chewed for a moment, remembering all that time he’d spent thinking he was special to Tim. That if he was just patient enough, they could eventually have more than secret fumbles in the dark. “Later, he threw it in my face that Kenneth sounded gay, and he didn’t want anyone to know about me in case they guessed about him, which was less sweet.”

“Wow. Just when I thought there might have been a side to Tim I could relate to.”

Kenneth shook his head. “You’re nothing like him.”

“You aren’t either,” CJ said, surprising him. When Kenneth glanced up from his plate, CJ said more firmly, “You aren’t.”

“I’m trying not to be.” Kenneth blinked quickly, forcing the wetness from his burning eyes. “I let him drag me back into his closet and treat me horribly for too long. Now, I’m doing my best to be the kind of man I was before I got tangled up with him.”

“When did you move out? You live in Ridgewood too now, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. I moved out right after you did. I got a job at the hospital here and got away as quickly as I could.”

“What changed?” CJ asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“You.” Kenneth smiled at the confused look CJ gave him. “I know his parents kicking you out was horrible, and I’m sorry it happened and that I wasn’t there to help, but when I got home from my shift and you were just gone…” He shook his head. “It was like this huge wake-up call. I confronted Tim about it and asked if he was ever going to tell his parents about us. All he did was stare at me like I was insane for even suggesting it, and I knew I’d be the next one kicked out. Once Tim was tired of fooling around with me, he’d tell his parents I was gay too and let them do his dirty work. But I didn’t want to wait around for that to happen.”

“How did he—” CJ turned to his vibrating phone with an annoyed look. It was obviously ringing instead of just the short burst from a text notification. “I’m sorry. He’s just going to keep bugging me until I answer.”

“It’s okay.” Kenneth assumed it was Tank, checking on how things were going.

What he wasn’t expecting was a hoarse, congested voice exploding from the speaker as soon as CJ answered, saying, “Bitch, why are you ignoring me? I’m sick. You’re supposed to be taking care of me.”

“You’re on speaker, Ollie,” CJ said dryly. “Say hello to Kenneth, who I’m having breakfast with because I am absolutely not taking care of your germ-infested ass.”

Gross coughing filled the space between them as CJ set his phone back down in the middle of the table. “Hi, Kenneth,” Ollie said after he caught his breath. “Don’t you think CJ should be at home taking care of me instead of eating eggs Benedict with you?”

Kenneth stared at CJ’s half-eaten breakfast with raised brows, wondering how often CJ ate it that Ollie knew his order by heart. “Um, hello. I’d really rather not get in the middle of this.”

The long-suffering sigh Ollie released made him and CJ smile at each other. “Fine. Will you bring me food home?”

“Six said I can’t feed you anything because you couldn’t keep anything down the last twenty-four hours.” CJ at least sounded sorry about the fact, even as he shoveled another forkful of eggs and hollandaise sauce into his own mouth. “Six will bring you soup when he gets done.”

“I thought you loved me,” Ollie whined. “I thought we had this deep, soul-touching connection after getting railed in the same room so many times.”

CJ sprayed food everywhere as he scrambled to grab his phone to turn the volume down, glancing around them with a bright red face. Kenneth’s own cheeks were heated, and he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh, sink under the table, or ask Ollie to explain what he was talking about.

“Ollie, I told you I had you on speaker,” CJ hissed.

“Whoops.”

5

“It’s weird seeing you outside of the House,” Houston said, smirking when Zachary Chapman rolled his eyes and continued cutting into his steak, their server having just dropped their plates off. “Even weirder that you’re dressed like that.”

Zachary glanced down at his button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and gray slacks like he couldn’t remember what he’d put on that morning, then raised a brow at Houston. “I don’t know that my leathers would have the desired effect on my students.”

“Fair enough.”

When Houston had applied to be a member of House of Bacchus—usually just called the House by regulars—over a decade ago, Zachary had been one of the ones to take him under his wing and teach him what it really meant to be a Dominant. As a mentor, he was a real drill sergeant, but as a friend… well, he was kind of a hard-ass as a friend too.

But he was a good man and perfect for Houston’s plan now that he had Tomas’s blessing to have the party. He just needed to convince Zachary to overlook a few things.

Plus, focusing on planning the party was helping him not obsess over a certain nurse who he hadn’t heard from in the week since their conversation in the hospital’s parking garage. All his plans to not pursue something with the gorgeous young man had gone up in smoke in the stairwell when Kenneth had stared at him with such need it had taken everything Houston had not to wrap his arms around him and take him home.

If Tank hadn’t been waiting on him, he probably would have.

“How’s the semester been? Must be tough guest lecturing here every week on top of your regular schedule.” Houston sipped his pear ale from a West Michigan brewery, making a mental note to see about stocking it at the Devil’s Garrote. It was crisp and a little fruity and would be a real hit with the college kids who ventured out to the place on the weekends.

Zachary shrugged. “Tiring but good. The head of my department is worried I’m being wooed, though, and has started making noise about me ‘focusing my attention.’”

Houston leaned in a little. “Are you being wooed?”

“The dean here made it clear there was a standing offer for me to join on a more permanent basis.” Zachary tipped his head back and forth as he speared a piece of steak and chewed on it thoughtfully. “It’s tempting, but I think I’m too old to pack up my life and move, even if it is only a couple hours away.”

Scoffing, he leaned back against the plush booth. “What are you, forty?”

“Forty-two.”

“Well, excuse me. You’re right, you should just accept that the grim reaper will be knocking at your door any day now.”

Zachary pinned him with a glare that made the subs at the club tremble but just made Houston laugh. “Very funny.”

“I’m just saying, sometimes when you least expect it, something amazing can come along, and you should be open to it. Or you might miss out.”

“Spoken like a man who’s recently discovered something amazing.” Zachary picked up his wineglass and leaned back to study Houston.

He shrugged. “That remains to be seen, but I’m open to it, and I’m not much younger than you.”

Zachary swirled his wine, still watching Houston closely. “Is this new discovery the reason you spontaneously asked me to dinner less than a month before the semester ends when I’ve been coming to Ridgewood once a week since January?”

“I’ve invited you to dinner several times, thank you. You’ve just always declined.” He narrowed his eyes on his friend. “I wonder why that is.”

“No need to wonder. It was because the other times you invited me, it was to eat at that bar of yours, and you know how I feel about your… hobby.”

Rolling his eyes, Houston pointed at him. “You’ve never given my MC a chance, you pompous asshole.”

“Motorcycles are needlessly dangerous. And noisy. And dirty.” Zachary curled his lip in distaste, but there was humor in his eyes. Houston’s membership to the Devil’s Hands MC was an old, tired argument between them.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you prima donna. I never asked you to go for a ride with me.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, but Houston broke first—like fucking usual—and burst into laughter. Zachary joined him, his chuckles less boisterous but still there.

“You’re seriously such an ass sometimes,” Houston said, shaking his head and resuming eating.

“And you’ve always been overly protective of your other club. Makes for an easy target.” Zachary set his wine down and dug back into his food.

“Well, I’m going to need you to get real cool about them real quick,” Houston said, grinning around a mouthful.

Utensils poised over his plate, Zachary raised his eyes. “Dear lord, that sounds ominous.”

* * *

“This is a terrible idea,” Zachary said a couple of hours later, arms crossed over his wide chest and gaze locked on the MC members across the clubhouse who were being… rather lively.

“It is not,” Houston insisted. “There is no reason why the clubhouse can’t be a sort of safe space for kinky folks in the area.”

“There are several reasons,” Zachary shot back, turning to give Houston a hard look. “Would you like me to list them alphabetically or by severity?”

“Neither. I’d like you to help me make it that safe space.” He shot his winningest smile at him and gestured around them. “Just use your imagination. If we clear out this side of the downstairs, we’d have plenty of room to set up some equipment for people to use and for us to give demonstrations on. It won’t be like the House, but it doesn’t need to be. It just needs to be somewhere where like-minded people can find each other.”

Zachary still looked dubious. “Are you telling me that you’d be perfectly comfortable with every single member of your club potentially being alone with a vulnerable sub?”

Houston reached over and gripped his friend’s shoulder. “Yes. I trust them with my life. And we’d be here to make sure things go smoothly.”

“We,” Zachary muttered, turning his face away to study the clubhouse once more, but his face had lost some of its tension with Houston’s quick answer. “It would take more than you and me to keep your club in line—and that’s before you invite the general public into the space.”

Knowing he was well on his way to convincing him, he gave Zachary a slap on the back and shoved him toward the rear of the clubhouse. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Tomas, and you two can fret over things together.”

He shot Houston an unamused look but let himself be steered to Tomas’s office. The door was closed, so Houston knocked, waiting until he heard the gruff “What?” before opening it.

“Hey, man. I wanted to introduce you to—” He stopped short when Tomas wasn’t at his desk like he always was, spinning until he found him on the couch next to Knuckles. “Shit, sorry. We can come back.”

Tomas started to nod, but Knuckles shot to his feet, cheeks a little ruddy above the short beard he’d grown recently, and waved a hand, not making eye contact. “No, it’s fine. We were basically done anyway, man.”

He headed toward the door, but Houston didn’t move out of the way, eyes narrowed. When Knuckles stopped so he didn’t run into Houston’s larger body, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Houston, finally meeting his gaze.

But Houston wasn’t having it. “Seriously, what’s up with you? You’ve been… weird for months.”

Knuckles seemed to deflate right in front of him, arms dropping to his sides and shoulders slumping as he shook his head. “I’m fine. I just need some time away to get my head on straight.”

“What?” Houston jerked his head around to Tomas, who was frowning but hadn’t risen from the couch.

“Knuckles was just letting me know he wouldn’t be around for a while,” Tomas said evenly, but his eyes were worried where they were glued to Knuckles’s back. “I told him I’d prefer if he stuck close so we could keep an eye on him.”

Knuckles grimaced, but Tomas couldn’t see it. “I don’t need an eye kept on me. I just need some space to figure some shit out.”

Houston wasn’t buying it, and based on Tomas’s face, neither was he. Thinking fast, he scratched at his cheek, then said offhandedly, “That’s too bad, man. I was coming to find you next to ask if you could help me with this party, but I understand if you’re too busy.”

It was a risk, betting on Knuckles’s loyalty to the club to try and guilt him into sticking around instead of disappearing for who knew how long, but it was one he was willing to take. Knuckles had been a member of the MC for years and was like family to Houston—no way was he willing to just let him hide away while he was hurting about something.

Knuckles sighed. “You don’t need my help planning a party.”

“Sure we do!” Houston said, stepping forward and clapping a hand on Knuckles’s shoulder. “Zachary seems to think he and I can’t handle things ourselves.”

“Who the fuck is Zachary?” Knuckles asked, face scrunched in confusion.

A throat cleared behind him, and Houston rolled his eyes but stepped aside. Standing in the doorway, Zachary perused the room quickly before settling his attention on Knuckles. He wasn’t as big as some of the guys in the club, but he was tall, and Houston knew his button-up hid a well-muscled chest.

But it was his slate-gray eyes that always won over the subs at House of Bacchus.

Knuckles made a sound next to him, and the corner of Zachary’s stern mouth tipped up, those mercurial eyes heating like he’d just spotted something delicious.

Houston knew that look. Trying to head things off before they got awkward, he gestured at Zachary. “This is my friend Zachary Chapman. He’s agreed to help with the party too.”

That was a stretch, but Zachary didn’t even bother to glance at Houston or correct him, simply stepping forward and extending a hand to Knuckles. “Pleasure.”

“Um, yeah, nice to meet you too,” Knuckles mumbled, shaking his hand. “Are you like a party planner or something?”

“Or something,” Zachary said, not releasing his hold on Knuckles. “We could definitely use someone with your… perspective as we plan the gathering though.”

“My perspective? What perspective would that be? As a tattoo artist?” Knuckles asked, jerking his hand free of Zachary’s grip.

Houston cleared his throat, trying to draw Zachary’s attention to let him know he was barking up the wrong-ass tree, but he just ignored him.

“A su—”

“Enough,” Tomas snapped, pushing to his feet. “Knuckles, we’ll finish this discussion later.”

Shooting everyone in the room a wary look, Knuckles slipped past Zachary and disappeared. Zachary watched him leave for a moment, then swung the door shut and turned toward Tomas, eyebrow raised.

“Are you telling me that boy isn’t a sub?”

Houston scrubbed at his face as Tomas stepped closer, raising a hand to point in Zachary’s face. “That isn’t your business. Nothing to do with him is your business. We clear? I won’t have you harassing him because you think it’s fun or whatever.”

Houston grimaced behind the hand still covering his face but knew better than to get between the two of them. He stepped over to the couch and sank down, waiting for them to punch themselves out.

Zachary was studying Tomas carefully, taking his measure. “I didn’t know he was yours. My apologies.” He shot Houston an annoyed look. “Haven’t you taught these people how to collar their subs so things like this don’t happen?”

“Jesus Christ,” Houston muttered, kicking off his boots and stretching out on the couch. He figured he needed to get comfortable because they were going to be there for a while. Sure enough, Tomas laid into Zachary a second later about being a presumptuous asshole, but Zachary didn’t hold back either, calling Tomas a small-minded bigot.

Good times all around.

Houston zoned out, not interested in their pissing contest. He was worried about Knuckles, but he’d corner him later and check in with him. For as long as Houston had known him, Knuckles was the guy quick with a smile and a joke, but for months, it was like he was stuck inside his own head, his grin coming slower and slower. He’d never been great with relationships—something the rest of the MC had teased him about relentlessly—but every time a girl dumped him, he just seemed to roll with it and fall into a new relationship within a month or two.

But now that Houston thought about it, he was pretty sure he hadn’t heard Knuckles talking about a new girlfriend since… maybe Christmas? Before? He usually rotated between living with whatever woman he was dating and the clubhouse, but Houston was almost positive it had been months since Knuckles had lived anywhere other than upstairs where Tank and Six stayed with their boys. There were several bedrooms for long-term stays and then a few more that were more for when members couldn’t get their drunk asses home.

He was trying to remember when he’d even last been upstairs to visit with Knuckles when his phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out, noting the other two assholes in the room had settled down in the chairs in front of Tomas’s desk and were discussing… some of Zachary’s past scenes? Houston shot upright and stared at them, his phone clutched in his hand.

“I played with a sub a few times who only ever wanted to do scenes that involved role play,” Zachary was saying. “Her favorite was naughty schoolgirl getting sent to the principal’s office for discipline.”

“And by discipline, you mean…” Tomas was grinning, an elbow on the edge of his desk, fist propping his head up.

“I mean, I’d scold her and then redden her ass. Sometimes with my hand—one memorable time with a wooden ruler she’d found somewhere and asked me to use.”

Houston couldn’t see Zachary’s face from where he was on the couch, but his tone was one he recognized—he was in full-on mentor mode.

What the fuck had he missed?”

Absently, he glanced down at his phone, and his heart flipped in his chest when he saw the name. So his sweet little nurse hadn’t forgotten about him.

Kenneth: Hi

That was it. One word, two letters, and Houston’s dick was fucking coming to life already.

Houston: Hey. Was wondering if I was going to hear from you.

There was a long pause, and Houston held his breath, hoping Kenneth would continue to be brave. When the three dots appeared, letting him know a response was incoming, he felt like fist-pumping.

Kenneth: It took me a while to figure out what I wanted as repayment.

The words might have been flirtatious from someone else, but Houston wouldn’t put it past shy little Kenneth being completely straightforward. Which was fine. He’d take whatever excuse he could get to spend more time with the boy.

Especially after he’d overheard part of his conversation with his sister. The quiet, almost awkward young man who he’d met at the bar a couple of months ago had melted away to reveal a guy who liked teasing his sister but then offered to let her live with him because she was having a hard time. Houston didn’t know all the specifics, but from what he’d heard on Kenneth’s end of the conversation, he hoped she took him up on it and got away from their dad. Hell, if he ended up in a relationship with Kenneth, he might start poking at her about it too. All his overprotective tendencies came from being a big brother to a woman who had always been the most beautiful and smartest person in the room—it was his default setting, and he’d never bothered to try and change.

Kenneth: I realized I didn’t have any food at home for when I get off work so I thought you could bring me some.

Houston cocked his head, staring at his phone.

Houston: You want me to buy you some groceries? I could do that I suppose. Just send me a list of some things you like and don’t like and I’ll take it from there.

It wasn’t what he was expecting, but dropping off some groceries would at least get him into Kenneth’s place. His charming personality would just have to handle the rest.

Kenneth: Um no. I thought you could bring over dinner. For both of us. If you want.

“Fuck me,” Houston whispered, pushing to his feet and reaching for his boots without looking away from his screen, afraid the words would disappear.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tomas asked.

“Absolutely nothing. But I gotta go. I’ve got a date.”

Houston: Hell yeah I want. Tell me where and when and I’ll make it happen, sweetheart.

He’d stomped into his boots and was striding toward the door when Kenneth texted him his address and what time he should be home. Houston only had about an hour, but he’d make that work.

It had been years since he’d pursued someone he hadn’t met at the House, and he wasn’t sure Kenneth would want all the things Houston yearned to give. But he couldn’t forget the look on Kenneth’s face when he’d ended his phone call with his sister, before he’d known Houston was there. If anyone needed a partner willing to shoulder their burdens, it sure as shit seemed like Kenneth.

And Houston was just the Dom for the job.

“Wait, seriously?” Tomas yelled after him as he hustled out of his office.

“Seriously. I’ll call you later, Zachary.”

6

“Oh god,” Kenneth whispered, his eyes immediately going to the hulking figure leaning against a motorcycle outside his apartment building as he turned into the parking lot. He was almost forty-five minutes later than he’d told Houston, and he’d convinced himself the man wouldn’t still be there.

He’d texted Kenneth about half an hour before, asking if everything was okay, and when Kenneth had just said, Emergency at work. Not sure how much longer I’ll be, Houston hadn’t responded. The radio silence had been crushing when Kenneth had realized he hadn’t heard back once he was walking to his car, the weight stacking on top of the heaviness of what had happened at the end of his shift.

He’d been so nervous about inviting Houston over for dinner, taking a whole week to work up the courage, so the idea that he’d messed everything up already had brought tears to his eyes.

The sight of Houston’s large form was exciting and terrifying all at once. Had he only stuck around to yell at Kenneth for wasting his time? That was something Tim would have done, especially toward the end where it had seemed like nothing he’d done had been good enough. Would Houston be like that too?

God, he hoped not. He really should have pressed CJ for more information about the man during their breakfast, but he’d been too worried that CJ wouldn’t like the idea of Kenneth crushing on one of the MC members, and it would strain their fragile new friendship.

After the way his shift had ended, Kenneth was about three seconds away from curling in a ball and crying himself to sleep for the weekend. There was no way he could handle Houston being pissed at him too.

As he pulled into his designated parking spot, he kept an eye on Houston in his rearview mirror, watching as he straightened up and studied Kenneth’s car. It was dark, so he probably hadn’t seen who was driving it.

He took a deep breath, then opened his door. As soon as he was outside his car, he felt his fingers beginning to tremble, but he forced himself to turn and face Houston. “Hi.”

The parking lot was too dark to make out Houston’s face, but he raised a hand. “Well, hello there.”

He reached into the compartment at the back of his motorcycle and withdrew a package, heading toward Kenneth without hesitation. The scent of fried food hit Kenneth, and his stomach growled. Loudly.

Houston chuckled. “I don’t know how good anything will be reheated, but if it’s inedible, we can order a pizza.”

Kenneth sucked in a breath, tilting his head back to meet Houston’s eyes as he just kept coming until he was less than a foot away. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Head cocked, Houston studied him in the dim light until Kenneth dropped his gaze to Houston’s leather-clad chest. “Let’s go inside, gorgeous.”

Kenneth shivered and nodded, turning and leading them into his building. The sound of music was loud in the hallway, but Kenneth was used to it and just ignored it as he headed up the metal steps to the second floor. Most of the people who lived in the apartment complex—which was nicer and more expensive than ones that were closer to the university—were upperclassmen and grad students. So he’d had to get used to loud music, raised voices, and the smell of pot in the air pretty quickly.

Houston didn’t say anything as he followed him up the steps and down the upper hallway to his apartment. And he still didn’t say anything as Kenneth unlocked the door and pushed inside, flipping on a light so they could see. The place wasn’t much—the living room and kitchen basically one space and his bedroom and bathroom just beyond, creating a small square apartment that matched everyone else’s in the building.

But he’d done his best to make it nice, adding pictures to the walls and lots of fluffy blankets to the furniture in the living room. It felt cozy and welcoming to him—especially after a long day. Though he couldn’t help but wonder how Houston viewed it.

When the silence became too much, he turned and offered a tentative smile to the man. “You can hang up your jacket there.”

Houston looked where he was pointing and nodded, setting the bundle of food on the arm of his couch before unzipping his leather jacket and hanging it up. He was wearing another V-neck underneath, this one a rich red that flattered his dark skin.

Though Kenneth wasn’t sure there was anything the man wouldn’t look good in.

Feeling overwhelmed and jittery, Kenneth took off his own coat and hung it up, then glanced down at his scrubs. The last couple of hours hit him all over again, and he sucked in a shaky breath. “I should… I should shower. Um, make yourself comfortable.”

“Kenneth—”

“I’ll just be a minute,” he said, ignoring the frown on Houston’s face and turning toward his bedroom. He felt fragile, like his whole body was full of cracks that were seconds away from shattering, and Houston leaving him alone with his thoughts would be the tap on the glass he needed to crumble. The echo of a heart monitor flatlining was ringing in his ears, and even though he doubted he was fit for company, he was prepared to beg to get Houston to stay.

“Stop.”

The word was firm but not loud, and Kenneth’s feet froze in place.

“Turn around. Please.”

It was obvious the please was an afterthought, but Kenneth supposed he appreciated the effort even as he turned, keeping his face down to hide his wet eyes.

Scuffed, black boots came into his view right before a large, warm hand cupped the side of his neck. Kenneth sucked in a breath, realizing how cold he’d been as the heat from Houston’s palm soaked into his skin.

“Lift your eyes, sweetheart,” Houston said, voice little more than a rumble.

Heart racing, Kenneth tilted his face up, meeting Houston’s gaze. There was a deep furrow between his dark brows as he studied Kenneth, and Kenneth had the strangest urge to reach up and smooth it. He didn’t though, not sure if his touch would be welcome.

“Talk to me. Are you just nervous that I’m here, or is it whatever happened with your emergency?”

The tears Kenneth had just barely been holding back filled his eyes again, and he tried to look away, to hide them, but Houston’s other hand came up, both of them clasping the sides of his face to hold him still.

“Don’t hide from me, Kenneth.”

Tears spilling from his lashes, he stared into Houston’s dark, intense eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Houston made a sort of growling noise. “Don’t be sorry, sweet boy. Just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

His heart breaking all over again, he squeezed his eyes shut. “You can’t fix it. He… he died. He was only six and… and…”

Strong arms pulled him into a wide chest and wrapped around him as he sobbed. Now that the dam had burst, he couldn’t hold back as he clutched at Houston. He didn’t realize he was gasping out words, still trying to explain how smart little Justin had been or what a fighter he was and how they’d all thought he’d pull through until Houston gently shushed him.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Take a deep breath, sweetheart. I know it hurts, but you’re okay.”

God, did it hurt. It always did. He’d tried for years to find that professional distance his colleagues talked about, but he couldn’t do it. So when he’d moved to Ridgewood and started at the hospital there, he’d decided to stop trying and just accept that it was who he was. Every single patient was precious to him, and he fought for and loved them even though he died a little each time he lost one of them.

He cried for what felt like hours but was probably only ten minutes, and when he started to slow, he was hollow inside, but there was also space, so he could finally take a deep breath. The ache of Justin’s death would stay with him for a long time, but he was no longer being crushed under the weight.

And that was thanks to Houston.

He knew he should probably be embarrassed about getting the man soaking wet with tears and snot, but he was too tired to get worked up about it. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, but he also didn’t want to let Houston go. It had been so, so long since he’d been comforted instead of being the one offering the comfort.

When Houston’s arms loosened a little, Kenneth made a soft noise of protest and held on tighter, deciding he could be humiliated by his neediness in the morning.

“It’s okay,” Houston said, his chest rumbling under Kenneth’s face where he was burrowed.

“Don’t leave. Please,” Kenneth whispered thickly. He shivered when Houston slid a hand up to clasp the back of his neck and pressed what felt like a kiss into Kenneth’s hair.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to lock the door and put the food in the fridge, then I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of him?

Kenneth wasn’t sure what that would entail, but it sounded really good to him. Like, really good. Like Houston was offering Kenneth the one thing he’d always wanted but never gotten. He reminded himself that Houston wasn’t making any promises—that they hadn’t even gone on a date yet, for pity’s sake—and that he’d end up devastated if he wasn’t careful to protect his heart.

For the first time in a long time though, he wanted to be a little reckless. Even if it was just for one night.

He’d take all the soft words and comforting touches and hoard them away for when Houston left him. It almost felt inevitable, like because his mom had died and his dad had left him behind when he’d taken Kenneth’s siblings away that no one would ever really stay. That he wasn’t worth staying for. And if that was the case, then he’d at least have the memory of his time with Houston to ease the ache inside him.

It took him a few minutes to loosen his hold, but Houston didn’t seem like he was in a rush, gently running his free hand up and down Kenneth’s back in a soft caress.

Taking one final deep breath, Kenneth let go and stepped back, swiping at his face. He shivered as Houston pulled away, his fingers sliding over the bare skin at the nape of his neck. Just like he said, Houston walked over and locked the door, toeing off his boots and leaving them under his jacket before grabbing the food from the couch and heading into the kitchen. He just shoved the whole thing onto one nearly bare shelf in Kenneth’s refrigerator and then closed the door and came back over to where he was still standing, having not moved.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Houston said softly.

Kenneth jolted. It literally hadn’t occurred to him to do anything else, but he still mumbled, “You’re welcome.”

He peeked a look up at Houston’s face and found him smiling in a gentle way that made goose bumps race down his arms. His dark brown eyes were nearly black, but there was so much warmth in them, heating Kenneth from the inside out.

“I need you to do something for me,” Houston said, snagging one of Kenneth’s hands and raising it to his face to press a light kiss to his palm and making him shiver.

“Okay,” Kenneth croaked, wishing he could feel those lips in many, many other places on his body.

“You want me to take care of you, right, Kenneth?”

He was surprised at the question. How could Houston doubt that was what he wanted? He’d just snotted all over the man’s shirt. Or was he looking for some sort of out now that he’d gotten a glimpse of just how needy Kenneth really was?

Not sure what the right answer was, he bit into his lip before saying, “I understand if you can’t stay—”

Houston’s eyes narrowed, and he used his hold on Kenneth’s hand to jerk him forward so they were plastered against each other again. He guided Kenneth’s hand up to palm the side of his bristly cheek, then wrapped both of his own arms around Kenneth’s back, holding him firmly. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull away from me. I want nothing more than to keep holding on to you and taking care of you, but I need to be sure that’s what you want.”

Head craned back to hold Houston’s gaze, Kenneth realized he was breathing a little fast, and his heart was thumping in his ears. No one had ever spoken to Kenneth like Houston did, so plainly that there was no question about what he wanted. It felt good to not play games. He hadn’t dated much since Tim, but in college and before Tim, most guys had been the opposite of Houston. They never wanted to let anyone know what they were really feeling, constantly holding their cards close to their chests. It had been exhausting.

It was thrilling and terrifying to be so free with what he wanted, but there was no other answer that Kenneth could give. “I know it’s too much and too intense for a first date… but yes, that’s what I want.” He licked his dry lips and added on a whisper, “More than anything, Houston.”

Something eased in his handsome face, and he smiled, turning and pressing his upturned lips into the thin skin of Kenneth’s wrist like he could share his happiness that way. And maybe he could because Kenneth swore his heart gave a tiny jolt. “Don’t worry about things being too much. There is no right or wrong—only what works best for us, okay?”

That sounded too good to be true and didn’t align at all with what Kenneth had experienced with other men, but he found himself nodding anyway. “Okay.”

“Good.” Houston watched him for a long moment before giving a quick nod. “Alright. For tonight, if I do or say something you don’t like, you simply say stop. Understood?”

The way he phrased that made Kenneth wonder if there would be nights where Houston wouldn’t stop if Kenneth told him to. With anyone else, that would have scared him into changing his mind and kicking them out of his apartment. But with Houston? A shiver raced down his spine, and his belly flipped as his mind conjured up scenarios he’d barely let himself think about, let alone wish for. Even though he hardly knew the man, he couldn’t deny that he felt safe with him already. There was just something about Houston that had drawn him in from the moment he’d laid eyes on him in that bar.

He also couldn’t help but remember how Houston’s arms had felt as he’d held him while Kenneth cried or the way he’d smiled when he’d seen Kenneth step out of his car, even though he’d been waiting almost an hour for him.

Or the way he’d tracked Kenneth down in the parking garage stairwell just to thank him for looking after his friend. How he’d offered to get Kenneth groceries when he’d fumbled asking him out…

As far as Kenneth was concerned, the man had earned himself some leeway and was well on his way to completely gaining Kenneth’s trust. The smart thing to do would be to hold back to protect himself, but why should he start being smart with his heart now?

Throat thick with emotions, Kenneth whispered, “Okay.”

“Say it back to me.”

The penetrating look Houston leveled on him began to heat his body from the inside out. “If I don’t like something, I say stop.”

“Good boy.”

Those two words hit Kenneth in the chest, making him go light-headed as he sucked in a breath. “Houston…”

“Don’t worry, sweet boy,” Houston said, stepping back but grabbing Kenneth’s hand once more. “Just let me take care of you for a change.”

Kenneth let himself be led back into his bedroom and then into his bathroom, but he couldn’t help but disobey Houston, worry eating at him.

Houston’s assurances sounded so nice but also like something he shouldn’t get used to. For as long as he could remember, even before his mom died and left him alone with his broken father, it had been his job to make sure his siblings were dressed and fed and got to school on time. And after she passed… things had been really bad, and then just as he was getting himself and his brother and sisters back to some sort of normal, his dad packed them up and moved them to Florida.

Leaving Kenneth behind.

He’d thrown himself into college to fill the aching hole left in their absence and then again into his job, but it hadn’t been the same. He’d still been alone. Had been forced to learn to be okay being alone. Even when he’d been with Tim, he’d still felt that way; the emotional distance Tim had maintained and the sneaking around even in their own home had created a chasm between them.

He craved the comfort Houston was offering, so he told himself to enjoy it while he could. It might not last, and he had a feeling that Houston could do a lot more damage than Tim had in a lot less time, but his poor, battered heart needed this.

Houston’s gentle touch and caring eyes were going to snag Kenneth’s heart in no time flat. He could just feel it. And unlike with Tim, who he’d never actually fallen for, loving and losing Houston might destroy him.

That was tomorrow’s problem though.

For tonight? Tonight, he’d let Houston offer him soft words and touches and to take the aching pain of loss away at least a little. Then tomorrow or next week or next month, whenever Houston got tired of taking care of him, he’d put on his game face and remind himself he was strong enough to take care of himself.

“Raise your arms,” Houston said, turning to him after getting the water in the shower going.

Without hesitation, Kenneth did as he was told, shivering as Houston peeled his navy blue scrub top off his torso and over his head, then reached up and straightened Kenneth’s glasses for him, his fingers trailing down the sides of his face on the way back down to Houston’s sides. The light in the bathroom was harsh on his serious face as he studied Kenneth’s bare skin for a moment, the path his eyes taking lighting up just as clearly as if Houston had touched him with his hands. Kenneth swallowed and ducked his chin so he could watch Houston through his lashes as he reached forward and untied the drawstring on Kenneth’s pants.

It was a little harder to just stand there and let Houston tug his scrub bottoms and briefs down his legs—even more so when Houston knelt to help him step out of them and his face was within inches of Kenneth’s dick.

Inches.

Hands fisted at his sides, he felt his face flushing as his cock reacted to the close proximity of the man Kenneth had been doing his best not to daydream about—and failing more often than not—for months. He forced himself to squeeze his eyes shut so he couldn’t see how close Houston was, but that only made it worse in some ways, the heat of Houston’s body seeming to reach out and wrap around him just as easily as the man’s arms had.

Hot, moist air hit his shaft, and Kenneth couldn’t help but flex his hips a little as he bit down on his lip to try and stifle his whimper.

God, Houston hadn’t laid a hand on him in any sort of sexual manner, and yet Kenneth was going to be fully hard in seconds.

Was he that desperate?

Or was his attraction to Houston just that powerful?

He felt more than heard Houston stand once more, but he kept his eyes shut and tried to slow his breathing and heart rate so he didn’t embarrass himself. Over the sound of the shower running, he caught the rustle of fabric and knew Houston was taking off his own clothing.

A whimper escaped him as his imagination did its best to provide him with the image of a naked and aroused Houston. He ignored the tiny voice coaxing him to open his eyes and take a peek. He wanted to—dear god did he want to—but if he saw that Houston wasn’t as… affected as Kenneth was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand it.

Big hands cupped his face and tipped his head back. “You remember the rule for tonight?”

A shudder raced down Kenneth’s spine at how deep Houston’s voice had gotten. “I remember.”

“Do you want to say stop?”

He shook his head as much as he could within Houston’s hold. Stopping was the last thing he wanted.

Houston didn’t say anything for a long moment, his thumbs brushing lightly over Kenneth’s cheeks and lips, driving him to distraction so he almost missed when Houston said, “Do I need to order you to open your eyes?”

Goose bumps sprang up all down his arms at just the idea, and he almost opened his eyes without thinking, desperate to see if Houston looked as serious as he sounded. But he squeezed his lids shut once more before they could do more than flutter and offer him the tiniest glimpse of bright light and dark brown skin. “Please.”

Instead of giving the order, Houston crowded into him until Kenneth’s ass was pressing into the bathroom counter behind him, and still Houston kept coming. Kenneth gasped as their bodies collided, and he felt it, his hands flying up to grip at Houston’s waist to steady himself. Houston’s erection was big and hot against the skin above his groin and took his damn breath away.

Houston’s hands slid back into his hair and gripped firmly, keeping his head back so they were face-to-face, and soft lips brushed against the corner of his mouth. His fingers dug into Houston’s skin as he held his breath, wanting a kiss from this man more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.

“Open your eyes, boy.”

The words were said quietly but with a firm edge that had Kenneth’s dick jumping where it was pressed against Houston’s hip and his eyes flying open before his brain had fully processed the command.

“There he is,” Houston murmured, leaning back down and running his nose and lips up the side of Kenneth’s face. “Such a sweet boy.”

He couldn’t stop the punched-out sound from leaving his mouth or the precome he felt slicking Houston’s smooth skin.

Houston groaned softly against the shell of his ear. “You’re killing my resolve, Kenneth.”

“Resolve for what?” he couldn’t help but ask, even as he gave the tiniest thrust against Houston to try and get some friction on his aching cock.

One of Houston’s hands shot down to grab Kenneth’s hip in a tight grip. “That. There will be none of that tonight. This is about comfort and taking care of you, not orgasms.”

The idea that he, Kenneth Greene, had the power to crumble the resolve of a man like Houston filled him with a buoyant sense of pride. Feeling braver than he had in ages, Kenneth traced the thin lines of the mandala tattooed on one of Houston’s pecs, pushing out his lower lip in a pout. “Why can’t an orgasm be part of taking care of me? I think I’d get a lot of comfort from it. A whole lot.”

A wide, happy smile spread across Houston’s face, like he loved that Kenneth was teasing him. Something that he usually only did with his siblings—though not in the same flirty kind of way. No, this was new and just something Houston brought out of him. It made Kenneth feel bolder and safe to do it again.

So he did.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Houston, eyes roaming over the thick lines of ink on his shoulders and biceps. He rolled his hips forward once more and bit his lip at how good it felt. His eyes fluttered, but he forced them to stay open and watched as Houston studied him, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Please?” Kenneth whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the edge of Houston’s strong jaw. “Please, can I?”

Usually he didn’t care to beg for anything—in bed or in life—but with Houston… It was freeing in a way he’d never gotten to experience before. Arousal surged through him, lighting up his skin and making his toes and fingers tingle as he whispered pleas into Houston’s skin, knowing it wasn’t up to him whether or not he got to come.

It was up to Houston.

And that was something he’d always wanted.

A part of him wanted Houston to say no, to deny him and assert his control, but the larger, more vocal part was dying to come. Somehow it had become the most important thing to him, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

When Houston’s fingers tightened on his hip, slowing his movements, Kenneth whimpered against his throat. A sharp tug on his hair brought his face out from where he’d buried it, and he met Houston’s heated eyes.

“You’re going to be more of a handful than I thought, sweet boy,” Houston murmured, and Kenneth worried that was a bad thing. Had he pushed too hard? As if reading his mind, a wicked grin appeared on Houston’s tempting mouth. “Don’t worry. My hands are big enough for the job.”

Desire twisted in Kenneth’s belly and drew his balls up as his cock pulsed. All he could do was stare up into Houston’s face and wait to see what he’d decide to do. With Houston holding him so firmly, that was all he was allowed to do.

Holding his gaze, Houston slid his hand from Kenneth’s hip down to his ass and gave him a squeeze that lit his blood on fire. “You want to come?”

“Please.”

“Then do it. Make yourself come against me.” He tugged at Kenneth, forcing his hips forward to rub his aching cock against the dip between Houston’s groin and thigh again. “Use my body to give yourself pleasure, sweet boy.”

Permission granted, there were no more thoughts or worries left inside him. Kenneth became a wild thing, his hips bucking forward over and over as his nails dug into Houston’s upper back. He tried to tip his face into Houston’s neck again, to hide just a little as his body unabashedly sought to take what it needed, but Houston tightened his hold in his hair to hold him still. Gazes locked, Kenneth had never felt more vulnerable or exposed as he did in that moment… and it only made him hotter.

Moaning so loud it echoed in the tiny, enclosed space, he wondered if he’d survive the night or if he’d burst into flames at any moment until there was nothing but a pile of ash left.

Had he truly ever thought he could protect his heart from getting too attached?

As Houston’s fingers tightened on his ass and in his hair, the tiny licks of pain shooting straight to Kenneth’s balls, he realized how foolish he’d been.

“Come on, sweet boy. You can do it. Cover my skin in your slick come.”

The base, guttural words were all he needed to fly over the edge, the eruption so huge and sudden, Kenneth cried out, his screams filling the bathroom.

And still, he didn’t look away.

Not even when he started to come down from his high, legs wobbly and arms like rubber. A look of primal satisfaction tightened Houston’s jaw as he stared into Kenneth’s eyes.

Kenneth’s poor heart was so screwed.

7

Houston was in deep shit.

Kenneth’s hot spunk was coating his skin, and his slender body panted against him, and Houston wasn’t sure how he’d gone his whole life without this man in it. His golden eyes were still a little wide behind his black-framed glasses like he’d been shocked by his own pleasure, and all Houston wanted to do was make him come all over again.

Though his throbbing dick would probably appreciate having a go first. But that wasn’t happening tonight. All his focus was on Kenneth and what he needed, and his cock could just fucking deal.

He couldn’t imagine how Kenneth had dealt with the loss of a patient in the past after watching him nearly collapse in grief as soon as he realized Houston had him. His poor, sweet boy had such a huge heart that would need to be taken care of better.

A job he’d consider a damn privilege.

As Kenneth’s breaths began to slow, Houston found he was captivated by his plush, damp lips. Fuck. He had to have a taste of this boy. Had to. Or he’d lose his damn mind.

“Was that… okay?” Kenneth whispered, but he still didn’t drop his gaze, and his hold on Houston hadn’t loosened at all. The air between them was thick with humidity from the shower and the scent of come.

Okay didn’t even begin to cover it.

“That was definitely okay,” Houston reassured him, leaning forward to press his mouth to the edge of Kenneth’s jaw, his little bit of stubble just long enough to rasp against his lips. “You were perfect.”

He breathed the words into Kenneth’s skin, willing them to sink into his soul. Kenneth made a tiny, surprised sound, and his nails dug into Houston’s back, head shaking faintly. It hurt to think that no one had ever told him that before, and Houston vowed to make him believe it.

“Houston.”

Fuck. The way Kenneth whimpered his name was a benediction and a plea all in one. Inching his lips up to the point of his cute little chin, Houston hummed and flexed his fingers in Kenneth’s soft, wavy hair and on his adorably plump ass cheek. “Yes, sweet boy?”

“You can’t say things like that,” Kenneth whispered, even as his body arched into Houston subtly and his hands gripped at him tighter, begging for more.

“I disagree. And who’s in charge tonight, boy?” He growled the words, unable to resist reminding Kenneth of what they’d agreed to in the living room. He’d been a little shocked that Kenneth had agreed to begin with, but he’d just said a quick thank-you to the universe and run with it. It was the best way he knew of to take care of him, and he’d use whatever he needed to. Hell, he’d do just about anything to keep Kenneth from feeling so sad and lost ever again.

“You.” Kenneth said it with such aching relief, Houston’s dick throbbed.

“That’s right. And my rule is I get to tell you all the wonderful things I like about you as I take care of you.” He didn’t remind Kenneth that he could say stop if he needed to, trusting him after the single reminder before his orgasm. The trust Kenneth was putting in him had to go both ways, and even if Kenneth wasn’t in the best of headspaces after his shitty shift, he wasn’t so out of it that he couldn’t give consent.

Kenneth sucked in a breath and shivered. Considering Houston had sweat dripping down his spine from how hot and humid the shower was making the small space, he didn’t think it was because Kenneth was cold. Smiling, he pulled back a little so he could see Kenneth’s flushed face. His pupils were still huge with arousal as he stared up at Houston.

“You have a perfect mouth too,” he murmured, grinning when Kenneth’s eyes widened and darted away before finding his again. “And I want a taste.”

The next time, he’d just take a kiss from his boy, knowing he was welcomed and reveling in the submission. But tonight, it needed to be Kenneth who closed the space between them. So that he knew Kenneth really wanted it and that he believed Houston.

Kenneth dropped his eyes to stare at Houston’s mouth, darting his pink tongue out to run over his bottom lip. God, he was really testing Houston’s resolve to let Kenneth lead this one time, and he probably had no idea. He wasn’t completely innocent, but Houston would bet money Kenneth hadn’t been with many others before. He was too shy, too unsure of just how fucking gorgeous he was.

He held his breath as Kenneth slowly leaned forward, eyes darting from Houston’s down to his mouth and back, like he kept expecting Houston to change his mind.

Not. Fucking. Likely.

Ever so softly, Kenneth let his eyes fall shut and pressed his lips to Houston’s in the gentlest kiss he’d ever experienced. And it still somehow rocked his whole damn world. Lightning shot through his limbs, and his hands trembled as he gripped Kenneth a little tighter and forced himself to hold steady and let Kenneth run the show. Kenneth hummed softly, the sound nearly drowned out by the water next to them, and then brushed their mouths together slowly.

Once.

Twice.

After the third time, Houston couldn’t help but groan, and Kenneth took the opportunity to slip the tip of his tongue just inside Houston’s mouth for a tiny taste. Unable to resist, he nipped gently and then stole past Kenneth’s lips when he gasped, taking his own much greedier lick inside.

His boy tasted like happiness and sunshine all rolled into one.

Kenneth moaned and shifted his hands up to the back of Houston’s neck, clutching at him as he accepted Houston’s slow thrusts into his mouth.

Houston would never get enough, he was sure of it. He could spend the rest of his life kissing Kenneth every single day, and it still wouldn’t be enough. His sweet, honest submission was almost more than Houston could take, and he forced himself to pull away, burying his face in Kenneth’s neck as he panted and worked to get himself back under control.

“You’re pure temptation.” He couldn’t even be upset about it—it wasn’t like Kenneth was deliberately trying to ruin Houston’s control. Even still, he gave a playful bite to the skin against his mouth and then sucked until Kenneth was arching onto his toes. His light brown skin would show off Houston’s marks beautifully… one day. He pressed one more kiss to the spot before raising his head.

He couldn’t help the male satisfaction that thrummed through him at how blissed-out Kenneth looked, eyes a little glassy and lips damp.

Grunting, he gave Kenneth’s ass one last squeeze, then stepped back and gestured at the shower. “Into the tub. I need to get you cleaned up and into bed.”

The lip bite and flirty look Kenneth gave him as he stepped past him and into the shower had Houston playing back his own words and realizing how they sounded. Chuckling, he followed and closed the curtain, trapping Kenneth against the wall with his hands planted on either side of him.

“Into bed to sleep,” he clarified.

“Okay,” Kenneth said easily, staring up at Houston like he hung the fucking stars, and his heart turned over in his chest.

With careful, gentle movements, he washed every inch of Kenneth’s body and then his hair. In the beginning, Kenneth watched his every move like he expected Houston to stop or disappear at any moment. Before too long though, his eyes had shut and he was listing a little, Houston having to use the wall or his own body to support him.

He barely washed himself before shutting off the water and leading Kenneth back out. “Tired, sweet boy?”

Kenneth nodded and hummed, eyes half-lidded. “A little.”

A little. He was practically falling asleep as Houston toweled him dry. But he just smiled, not calling Kenneth out on his obvious fib. “Are you hungry?”

Kenneth scrunched up his face a little. “Not really. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Shrugging, Kenneth glanced away. “I asked you to bring me dinner—and you did—but now I’m not eating it.” He bit his bottom lip. “I could probably eat a little since you went to so much trouble.”

Houston shook his head. “It wasn’t any trouble. You don’t need to force yourself to eat for me. You had a really hard night, and all I want is to take care of you. Whether that means feeding you or not.”

Kenneth gave a small smile, not looking one hundred percent convinced. “Okay. I… I don’t think I thanked you for staying after I told you I’d be late. But I really do appreciate it.”

He cupped Kenneth’s face and leaned down, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re more than worth waiting a few minutes for, sweetheart.”

“You really need to stop saying such nice things,” Kenneth whispered.

Houston chuckled, rehanging the towels he’d used. “No, you need to get used to hearing such nice things. I don’t know who made you feel like you weren’t worth sticking around for, but they were dead wrong.”

When he turned back, Kenneth’s eyes were damp, but he brushed them away before the tears could fall.

“My sweet boy,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around him in a gentle hug. Kenneth shuddered as he gripped Houston tightly in return. “You’re alright. I’ve got you now.”

He made himself stop before he could add that he wouldn’t be letting Kenneth get away again, not wanting to scare him, but it was the truth. Houston wasn’t sure if it was Kenneth’s family or an old boyfriend who made it so Kenneth couldn’t see how wonderful he was, but it didn’t matter because Houston would hold him tight for as long as he needed, giving him time and space to heal.

And even then, he wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t how Houston was built. He may have never had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend in the past, but he still knew he was possessive as hell. Once he claimed someone or something as his, that was it. The MC, his friends, his family—he would fight and die for all of them if need be.

Once Kenneth relaxed in his arms again, Houston wrapped an arm over his shoulders and led him out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He pulled the gray comforter and navy sheets back, then urged Kenneth to get in, but he hesitated.

“Um, I’ll be right back.”

Houston stopped him before he could walk past him. “Where are you going? Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

Kenneth’s cheeks flushed a little, but he smiled up at Houston. “I need a glass of water and, um, to go pee.”

Snorting, Houston let him go. “I’ll get your water.”

“Thank you.”

His grateful smile made Houston feel ten feet tall. Had no one ever done anything nice for this sweet boy?

It only took him a few minutes to find a glass in the kitchen and fill it with the pitcher in the fridge, but Kenneth was already in bed by the time he returned, smiling shyly. He was sitting up near the headboard, the covers pooled at his waist, and he was running his hands over the top of the comforter over and over.

Houston set the glass on the bedside table nearest the bathroom and farthest from the door, then strode around to the other side of the bed. Kenneth was on that side, but Houston just gave him a soft nudge. “You’re on that side when I’m here.”

Kenneth shot him a confused look but did as he was told, moving over to the other side, then shifting down so he was lying on his back when Houston climbed in. His hands twitched where they were folded on Kenneth’s stomach, and then he reached up and grabbed his glasses, taking them off and setting them on the bedside table next to the water.

Houston debated turning the lamp off, but he wanted to be able to see Kenneth for as long as he could, and he was looking far more awake at the moment than he had in the shower.

“Come here,” he murmured, turning on his side and reaching out to pull Kenneth closer. Once they were chest to chest and sharing the same pillow, he felt like they were close enough. “That’s better.”

Kenneth laughed lightly. “I’m glad you’re comfortable.”

Houston pretended to look concerned. “Oh, are you uncomfortable?”

“Well…”

Grinning, Houston palmed the back of Kenneth’s thigh and dragged his leg up and over his hip, slotting them even closer together. Kenneth gasped, eyes widening even as his cock stirred against Houston’s.

“What about now? Are you more comfortable?” Houston asked, barely able to hold a serious face as he said the words.

Kenneth shook his head, smiling, like he was exasperated but used to it, and Houston’s gut clenched. He wanted that but for real. He wanted Kenneth to pretend to be annoyed with his teasing but secretly love it—it felt so… domestic and intimate. Like an inside joke between lovers.

“Thank you for staying,” Kenneth murmured, looking up at him with pure gratitude that made his chest warm and his balls tingle. “I… I know it isn’t the night you expected, but I’m glad I’m not alone.”

Houston ran his fingers through Kenneth’s thick hair, the strands turning charmingly wavy as it dried and without the normal product in it to keep it in place. “I didn’t have any expectations for tonight. I just want to get to know you, Kenneth. Ever since that night at the bar, I haven’t been able to forget about you. Running into you at the hospital was my second chance, and I’m grabbing onto it with both hands.”

Kenneth made a soft noise and squirmed closer, nuzzling into Houston’s throat. “I haven’t been able to forget you either, but I thought we’d missed our chance or that you weren’t really interested.”

Houston scoffed, wrapping his arm around Kenneth to hold him tighter against him. “Impossible. I just didn’t want to seem like a creep if you weren’t that interested, which I thought you weren’t when you left without saying goodbye that night and never asked CJ for my number or told him to give me yours.”

“Sorry,” Kenneth whispered.

“You don’t have to be. We both made assumptions that were wrong, but we’re here now.”

Kenneth hummed his agreement, rubbing his soft lips against Houston’s throat. “CJ and I weren’t really friends, but I think we might be now.”

“I kind of gathered that when he didn’t even know what name you preferred.”

Sighing, Kenneth slipped an arm around Houston and relaxed against him. “I had breakfast with him earlier this week.”

That was news to Houston. Not that CJ or Ollie had to have permission to come and go from the clubhouse or anything, but it was hard to keep anything quiet with the club, most of the men more willing to gossip than any woman Houston had ever known. Still, he was glad CJ had reached out and was making an effort with Kenneth. He didn’t know yet what exactly had happened between them and that piece of shit Tim, but he had a feeling Kenneth didn’t have many friends and could use a few good ones in CJ and Ollie.

“How was that?”

“Good.”

Kenneth’s voice was a little softer, and Houston realized he should have turned the light off. Now that they were warm and comfortable in bed, Kenneth was going down fast. Of course, Houston wouldn’t be able to go to sleep for hours—too used to staying up late for the bar or at the clubhouse. But as soon as he could move without disturbing Kenneth, he’d shut it off. He’d rather lie in the dark holding him than disrupt his sleep.

“A little weird when Ollie called though,” Kenneth added, sounding half-asleep.

Houston laughed softly. “Ollie’s mostly harmless, I promise.”

“He seems nice. Just…”

“A lot?”

A gust of hot air hit Houston’s throat at Kenneth’s almost soundless laugh, causing him to shiver. “Yes, that. I’m sure once I get to know him, it won’t be so overwhelming.”

Houston ran his hand from Kenneth’s hair, down his smooth back, and then back up. The gentle strokes seemed to do the trick, leaching the last of the tension from Kenneth’s muscles. “He’s all sass, no bite. You’ll see.”

Kenneth made a sound, but Houston couldn’t catch the words.

“Hmm?”

“Want that,” he said a little louder.

“What, sweetheart?”

“The chance to see that.”

8

Was it possible to fall in love with someone in one night?

In his effort to refrain from taking and possessing every inch of Kenneth’s body after watching how fucking beautiful he was when he orgasmed, something inside Houston had shifted. He’d never been selfish with subs in the past, but it was different with Kenneth. As hard as his cock had gotten, it hadn’t been as difficult as he’d anticipated to shove aside his own desires because taking care of the boy had been more important.

Watching Kenneth come alive in his arms and let go of his worries had been enough for Houston. He’d lain awake for an hour after Kenneth had drifted off and just watched him sleep, soothing him the couple of times he’d begun to stir in distress.

And in those moments, he could picture himself staring into Kenneth’s sweet face for the rest of his life. Which should have been terrifying.

Six months ago, he would have laughed if someone had suggested he was ready to settle down with one special sub instead of enjoying the variety from House of Bacchus. But one night with Kenneth cuddled in his arms and he couldn’t imagine playing with anyone else.

He was falling, and it wasn’t terrifying—it was exhilarating.

If he could have, he would have stayed all weekend in Kenneth’s little apartment, spoiling his boy rotten with affection and pleasure. He promised himself they’d do that soon—maybe even a whole week. He’d steal his boy away so he’d really have him all to himself. The only thing he’d let him wear would be Houston’s ropes.

Dragging himself out of Kenneth’s bed with sleepy, golden eyes blinking at him slowly had been hard. When Kenneth’s perfect fucking lips had pushed into a pout when he’d realized Houston was leaving, it had taken everything inside him not to dive on top of Kenneth and devour every inch of him.

But he was determined to do things right. He’d let things get a little out of hand the night before because he hadn’t been able to resist a begging Kenneth, but he’d been completely serious when he’d said he wanted the night to be about taking care of him. If ever there was a sub in need of taking care of, it was that sweet boy.

And now that he didn’t seem so fragile, Houston was prepared to woo the shit out of him.

Any doubts he might have had before about Kenneth not needing the same things from a relationship as Houston did had dropped away. His conviction that they were perfect for one another cemented with how easily Kenneth had followed every order and melted at the tiniest amount of praise.

He couldn’t wait to see his boy soar while kneeling at his feet and wrapped up snug in his ropes.

As he reached his bike, he pulled out his phone and ordered breakfast from one of his favorite places, instructing them to put the food on the card they had on file for him but rattling off Kenneth’s address. Once he was sure his boy would have something to eat besides day-old french fries and burgers, he straddled his Harley and fired it up.

His boy.

The thought made him grin as he roared away from Kenneth’s apartment complex. He’d never had a sub of his own before. The longest he’d played before was a weekend because he’d wanted to keep his activities at the House far away from his MC… and his family.

He grimaced as he realized he’d have to accept the fact that Cynthia would probably find out why a motorcycle club was hosting a kink party—or at least that he was the one who pushed for it and was planning it.

His sister had been intertwined with his MC for years, despite his best efforts to keep her away from things. The knock-down, blow-out fight he and Tomas had gotten into when he’d found out Tomas had gone behind his back to hire Cynthia was legendary. Though he’d grudgingly admitted later that it was handy having someone so personally connected with the club as their legal rep and advisor.

Still, her knowing about his motorcycle club and her knowing about his other club were two very different things. He’d never wanted to risk losing her like he had their brother, so it had never seemed worth it to look for something more than a few scenes with a willing sub. He had his family, his MC, and the bar—what more could he really want?

But the way Six and Ollie were together? He’d realized he wanted that. Badly. Definitely enough to risk his sister giving him the stink eye when she found out he liked to dominate his partners. Among other things.

And then Kenneth had dropped into his lap again, with his warm eyes and soft voice, and it was like the universe was saying, Hey, dumbass, don’t fuck it up this time.

He grinned as he turned onto his street, promising himself and the universe that he wouldn’t. He may have let Kenneth slip through his fingers a couple of months ago, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Especially not after the night they’d shared together.

His boy’s heart was so big that he needed someone to help take care of it, to protect him from unnecessary hurt. Houston was sure he was just the man for the job.

He was just stepping out of his bathroom, having taken a quick shower, when his phone chimed from where he’d left it on the charger.

Kenneth: You got me breakfast? You didn’t have to do that.

Houston: I know I didn’t but I wanted to. If I’d had the time, I’d have gotten you those damn groceries. Your fridge is empty, sweetheart, and I’m not okay with that.

No response came back at first, so Houston set his phone down again and got dressed, but by the time he was shrugging into his cut and getting ready to head back out, the alert went off.

Kenneth: You did a lot for me last night. You don’t have to keep taking care of me.

Houston paused in front of his door, staring down at that text. Did Kenneth not want him to take care of him anymore? Or was he worried that Houston would get sick of doing it? The way he’d reacted last night had convinced Houston that Kenneth needed him and the things he could give him.

But what if he was wrong and Kenneth was viewing their night together differently in the light of day?

Eyes narrowed, he hit the call button next to Kenneth’s name.

“Hi,” Kenneth answered, sounding uncertain. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I know you said you had errands to run today.”

He had said that as he was leaving, not wanting Kenneth to feel like he was bailing after their intense night together, but the way his boy said it, it sounded like a brush-off. And that wasn’t okay.

“I do have some errands, but nothing so important I can’t take a minute to talk to you,” he clarified. “I usually check in with the bar before closing each night, so I want to stop by there before we open since I didn’t make it yesterday. And a friend of mine—a member of the club—he’s having a hard time right now, so I need to talk to him.”

“Oh.” Houston could picture him nibbling on his lip as he thought about what to say, and his dick twitched in his jeans just at the idea. “Is your friend okay?”

Of course his compassionate boy would ask that first. “I think so. But I need to be sure.”

“I understand.” There was a small pause, and Houston wished they were face-to-face so he could read Kenneth’s expressive face. “The bar you have to check on—is that the club’s bar? The Devil’s Garrote?”

“Yeah. Well, the MC only owns half of it,” Houston said. “I own the other half and manage it.”

“You own half of it?”

“Yup. Bought it back when I’d first patched in, and it was a fucking dump.” He laughed, remembering all the hours he’d put into trying to make the place better with barely any money. “For a long time, only a few regulars showed up, and I was barely keeping the doors open. Then Tomas suggested the club buy-in, and I was able to actually renovate the place.”

“Why do you think he did that?” Kenneth asked softly.

“Oh, I know why. He said it was because the bar was in a perfect location to build the new clubhouse behind, but that was bullshit.”

Kenneth laughed lightly. “What was the real reason?”

“Because that pushy asshole can’t stand to see people fail. Especially if he thinks he can do something about it.”

Houston smiled, thinking about the other businesses Tomas had invested the club’s money in. He was generous to a fault but also smart as hell, and because of that, the club was flourishing. Houston had visited other MCs whose clubhouses were basically falling down around them.

“He seems nice,” Kenneth said, humor lighting up his voice. “You shouldn’t call him a pushy asshole.”

Houston snorted. “Once you get to know him, you’ll understand what I mean.”

Kenneth didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he said, “I’d like the chance to get to know him.”

Heart squeezing in his chest, Houston gripped the back of his neck. “Sweet boy, I gotta know—your last text… Was that you worrying about what I wanted again? Or were you trying to let me know last night was a onetime thing?”

Kenneth exhaled so hard the line crackled in Houston’s ear. “I… I don’t want you to get sick of having to do things for me.”

The words were said so softly Houston could barely hear him. “Kenneth, that won’t happen. I promise.”

The sad noise his boy made nearly broke him. “You say that now, but you don’t know—”

“Sweet boy, I know.” But he knew even as he said it that Kenneth wouldn’t believe him, not really, until Houston explained why he was so sure. Until he showed him that caring for him would be a privilege and something Houston needed. “Can you meet me for dinner tonight?”

“Um.” He could tell Kenneth was thrown at the seemingly random question. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“It’s a great idea. I’m going to come pick you up around six. I’ll cook for you and explain why I know I won’t get tired of taking care of you.”

“Okay,” Kenneth said, but he could still hear the hesitance in his voice.

That was okay.

His boy would learn quickly just how perfect they were for one another.

* * *

He almost didn’t wait for Knuckles to answer his bedroom door, half-convinced some tough love was what was needed, but he was glad he did when the door swung open and he got a look at him. He knew it was a little early, but the man looked rough.

It had been one fucking day since he’d seen him last.

“What are you doing up here, man?” Knuckles croaked as he rubbed at his face. The words weren’t said accusatorily, but they still felt like a punch to the gut. Knuckles had been living on the second floor of the clubhouse for months, and Houston hadn’t taken the time to come visit him once.

Based on Knuckles’s surprise, he wasn’t the only one neglecting their friendship with the guy.

“Checking on you.” Houston tried to see into the room behind him, but it was dark and… a little smelly. “Let me in.”

“I’m not really in the mood to talk about some party—”

“Adam.”

Knuckles froze, the door stilling in his hand when he’d been about to close it in Houston’s face. “You just birth-named me.”

“Because I’m fucking worried about you. Now, let me in so we can have some privacy while you explain to me what’s going on with you.”

Grimacing, Knuckles stepped back. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Mhm.” Houston swept in, going for the blinds and opening them first thing. Turning, he crossed his arms over his chest and took in Knuckles’s appearance. He was only wearing an old Rebel Yell T-shirt and boxer briefs, but the shirt looked… baggy, like maybe he’d lost some weight, and his skin was paler than normal. There were dark circles under his eyes, which seemed dull and not full of life like they used to be.

Whatever was bothering the man, it sure as shit was a big deal. It looked like it was eating him up inside. Houston realized that while they’d all noticed Knuckles had been quieter than normal, none of them had seen this side of things. Knuckles had hidden how bad he’d let things fester by doing his best to put on a happy face every time he went downstairs.

Houston pointed at the disheveled bed next to him. “Get in the bed.”

“What?” Knuckles squinted at him.

“The bed. Get your skinny, white ass in it.”

“My ass is not skinny,” Knuckles griped, but he did as he was told.

Once he was under the covers in the middle of the bed, Houston shooed him farther in as he toed off his boots. “Scoot over.”

“Seriously, what the hell, man?” Knuckles asked even as he moved over.

Houston climbed in on top of the covers, settling on his back with one hand tucked up behind his head and the other between them, lying on the covers. Just in case. “You ever seen that show Grey’s Anatomy?”

“What? No. Well, I mean, maybe an episode here or there if the girl I was seeing watched it.” Knuckles turned on his side and stacked his hands under his head, eyeing Houston like he was out of his mind.

“Well, Tay’s obsessed, and so somehow I’ve seen more than my fair share.” And he may have gotten a little binge-y when he’d broken his ankle a couple of years ago and been laid up for weeks, but the level of tragedy was a bit too high for him to stick with it. “Anyway, on the show, when a character is in crisis, they climb into bed with their friend and spill all their shit.”

Knuckles scrunched his nose. “Are you in crisis?”

Rolling his eyes, Houston turned to face the ceiling and prepared to be there for a while. “No, Adam, you are. So we’re going to lay here until you tell me what the hell is going on with you. And then, if you still feel like you need some space from the club, I’ll at least know you’re okay.”

“I don’t know why I told Tomas that,” Knuckles said softly. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“You can come stay with me if you want,” he offered. “But not tonight. I got a hot date with the boy of my dreams, so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Knuckles laughed a little. “The nurse?”

“Yeah.” Houston couldn’t help the sappy-as-shit smile on his face.

“Good for you, man.”

“Thanks.” He shot him a stern look. “Don’t think you’ve distracted me though. I’m still not leaving until you tell me what’s up with you.”

Knuckles flopped onto his back with a groan, and Houston did his best not to laugh.

For a while, the only sound in the room was their breathing and the occasional rustle from Knuckles’s fidgeting. Houston was willing to wait though. He and the others had assumed that when Knuckles was ready to either share what was up with him or move past it, he’d let them know.

But he was beginning to think Zachary may have been onto something.

What if Houston hadn’t been the only one affected by Six and Ollie’s relationship? Hell, when he thought about it, it was around the time CJ and Tank had moved into the clubhouse that Knuckles had started getting a little squirrely. And Knuckles was the one who had done both CJ and Ollie’s property tattoos…

Had that made him realize something about himself?

Houston was practically dozing, absently planning how he was going to talk about things with Kenneth, by the time Knuckles cleared his throat and said lowly, “It’s embarrassing.”

“Okay,” Houston said. “Do you have anyone else you can talk to about it?”

The bedding shifted, and he realized Knuckles must have shrugged. “Not really.”

“Then embarrassing or not, I think you should tell me.”

Hot air hit his neck when Knuckles turned on his side again and sighed. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that?”

“Comes with the Dom gig.” He said it casually, like he was discussing the color of his shirt and not a fact he’d carefully kept hidden from the MC for years. He figured it was good practice for when the others found out about the party. He’d told Zachary they should do demos, and he couldn’t really act as any sort of authority without sharing his experience.

Knuckles sputtered, pushing up to his elbow to see Houston’s face. “Why—what… Why would you say that?”

Houston held his wide, scared eyes and did his best to project calm. “It’s the truth. I’m asking you to be honest with me, so it’s only fair that I am with you.”

Gaze darting around the room, Knuckles muttered, “What is happening to the members of this club?”

Houston sat up too. “Is that what’s been bothering you? Are you uncomfortable around some members now?”

Knuckles groaned and fell back onto the bed, trying to pull the covers up over his head, but Houston’s bulk stopped him, so instead, he jerked his pillow out from under him and slapped it over his face. Once he was sufficiently covered, he said something, but Houston couldn’t make it out.

“What was that?”

More noise, but he still couldn’t catch the words.

“One more time.”

The pillow went flying. “I said I think I might be a sub!”

Houston didn’t respond, just kept his eyes on Knuckles’s face and his squeezed-shut eyes. Finally, Knuckles peeked one open and shot him a look.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Don’t you have something to say?”

Houston studied Knuckles’s pierced face, tattooed arms, and disheveled hair. “Not yet. I’m waiting to hear the embarrassing part.”

Knuckles sighed. “Houston…”

“I’m serious. Because if maybe being a submissive is what you consider embarrassing, then I am the wrong person to talk to about this. I happen to think subs are amazing.”

Swallowing, Knuckles stared up at him with his terrified blue eyes and licked his lower lip. “How did you know?”

“That I was a Dom?”

Knuckles nodded.

“Well,” Houston said, settling back down onto the bed and folding his hands on his abdomen, “there was this girl.”

For the first time since he’d knocked on Knuckles’s door, a real smile broke across his friend’s handsome face. “Isn’t that always how it goes?”

9

“You know,” Kenneth said, slamming his apartment door shut with his foot since his arms were full with a laundry basket, “when I said you could come do your laundry, I meant you could do it.”

He dropped the basket onto his coffee table and gave an annoyed look to his brother, Kip, who was stuffing his face with the sandwich he’d made from the groceries Kenneth had just bought. Houston’s words about not liking how bare his shelves were had dug into his brain and made him want to do something to… please the man. So he’d finished eating the delicious breakfast Houston had arranged to be delivered and then gone shopping. Less than an hour after getting home, his little brother had shown up with his dirty laundry and a growling stomach.

Kip shot him his adorable grin that had always gotten him out of trouble when he was a kid. He was taller than Kenneth, with wider shoulders and well-defined muscles from years of playing sports, but they had the same eyes. Their mom’s eyes.

Running his fingers through his loose curls, Kip gave him an aw, shucks shrug that hadn’t fooled Kenneth in years. “You just do it so much better, bro. Remember the last time I tried? The girl who’d left that sweater in my dorm was so pissed.”

“Bro?” Kenneth said, raising his brows.

Chuckling, Kip finished his sandwich and pushed up from the couch, dumping the whole basket of cleaned clothes onto the cushions and starting to fold them. “Well, you are.”

With a heavy sigh, Kenneth rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to get something to eat for himself. “Speaking of family, have you talked to Kat or Kendra lately?”

The silence from the living room was answer enough.

He tried not to sigh again. “Kip, I know you’re busy with classes and friends and studying—at least I hope you’re busy with studying—but they’re your sisters. How would you have felt if I’d never spoken to you guys after you all moved to Florida?”

“I know,” Kip said quietly, concentrating harder than necessary on the shirt he was folding. “I just always feel so guilty. Kendra is still pissed at me for leaving her to come back here, and Kat… She says she’s fine, but we both know she isn’t. She hates it there, and Dad is shitty to her, but she won’t leave.”

“I told her to come here again,” Kenneth said, peeling open his container of hummus and then cutting the top off his bag of pita chips. “She was upset and called me about a week ago, and I told her she should just come here and stay on my couch.”

Kip sent him a sad smile. “She won’t. She feels like she has to take care of Kendra.”

“I know. I told her she’d be fine since she doesn’t look like Mom, but…” He shrugged, shoving a chip into his mouth. “Maybe if we both talked to her, we could convince her though.”

Kip shrugged and grabbed a pair of pants. “We can try.”

“Good. And call Kendra. Just let her gripe at you for twenty minutes, and then she’ll get over it and move on to telling you all about her friends and classes and that boy in English who keeps passing her notes.”

Kip’s head shot up, eyes narrowed. “Wait. What the fuck did you just say?”

Kenneth nearly choked on his pita chip he started laughing so hard. “See? If you talked to her more, you’d know all about what was going on and could do the protective-older-brother routine on her.”

“No, but for real,” Kip said, stomping into the kitchen. “Who is this guy passing her notes?”

* * *

After finally shooing his brother out to go study—but getting him to promise to come back as soon as his exams were over so they could video chat with Kat together—he cleaned his apartment, showered, and then stalled out. There were still hours until he was supposed to head over to Houston’s, and he was starting to freak himself out a little.

Last night had been… amazing. And eye-opening.

The easy way Houston had just taken charge, and the things he’d said, ordering Kenneth to rub off against him and calling him sweet boy… calling Kenneth perfect… They were giving Kenneth hope that maybe the things he’d always wanted weren’t as far-fetched as Tim had made him think. A part of him had known that—there were plenty of resources on the internet about Dominant and submissive relationships—but hearing Tim say otherwise had gotten into his head, making him think that what he dreamed about from a partner was too weird for someone else to actually want to give him.

Tim had insisted—the one time Kenneth had broached the subject head-on instead of just hinting around at things he’d like—that Kenneth couldn’t really want him to be the one in control all the time, especially in the bedroom. Had even implied there might be something wrong with Kenneth for wanting that, so he’d never brought it up again.

But he’d known, deep down, that wanting to trust a partner enough to give up everything to them wasn’t wrong. Or at least he’d hoped not. How could it be when others seemed to find such comfort and happiness in those kinds of relationships?

Which made what Houston had shown him the night before even more scary. It had been a tiny taste of what Kenneth had been craving for years, and now he was starving for more.

He just wasn’t sure if Houston would really want to take everything Kenneth was aching to give him. And to have a glimpse of how things could be and then to lose it?

That would devastate him.

His phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts—thank god—and bringing him back to his quiet apartment. He touched his fingertips to the arms of his glasses and glanced at his cell, surprised to see CJ’s name since they’d only exchanged a few texts after their breakfast earlier that week. He’d been hoping CJ would invite him to hang out again but hadn’t wanted to press in case he wasn’t ready yet. Things between them at the end of their breakfast had seemed good—CJ having assured him repeatedly that he and Kenneth were cool—but all week, CJ had kept things fairly superficial.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” CJ said, sounding like he’d just been laughing. “Do you have a minute to talk, or are you at work?”

He smiled faintly. “Um, no. I’m at home. What’s up?”

“I just had the weirdest conversation, and your name came up.”

Kenneth frowned as he sat on the edge of his couch, running his free palm over his knee a few times. “With Houston?” he asked, wondering if he’d told CJ about their plans for that evening or maybe mentioned spending the night with Kenneth. The fact that CJ had been laughing when he’d called worried him.

Was the idea of Houston and Kenneth together so ridiculous?

“What?” CJ said quickly. “Why would… Have you seen Houston lately?”

Whoops.

Had he just spilled the beans? Maybe Houston hadn’t wanted anyone to know that they were spending time together? He couldn’t figure out how to answer—not wanting to lie but also not wanting to share Houston’s personal business unnecessarily—but CJ didn’t wait for him to unfreeze his tongue.

“Okay, Tank just walked in and called me an adorable idiot, so I’m guessing I missed something,” CJ said slowly. There was a rustle, and then he sounded more muffled as he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me something was going on between them! Once I’m off the phone, you’re spilling everything, or you can learn to suck your own dick.”

Kenneth’s face flushed hot at the words he probably wasn’t supposed to be able to hear. There was a deeper rumble in the background that he assumed was Tank responding, and then CJ laughed.

“You’re right—why punish myself? But I still want to know, and since you love me, you’ll tell me.”

The easy way CJ said that tugged at Kenneth’s heart. He was so happy they’d found each other, but he was also jealous. The story Tank had told him about how they’d met sounded damn near magical, and he couldn’t help but wish for something like that for himself. The bits and pieces CJ had shared at breakfast had just confirmed for Kenneth that the two of them were perfect for each other. CJ always sounded so happy when he talked about his husband and their life, and Kenneth wanted that. Badly.

An image of Houston watching him as he’d gotten himself off against his body flashed in his mind, and he squirmed as heat pooled in his belly. He knew it was way too soon to even be thinking about Houston being his magical happily ever after, but that didn’t stop a small part of him from hoping.

He shook his head at himself. What had happened to protecting his heart? His resolve seemed to have evaporated right around the time Houston gently scrubbed every inch of his body last night and then held him as he fell asleep.

There would be no “protecting” himself from Houston. He was already halfway gone.

“Okay, sorry,” CJ said more clearly. “You still there?”

Kenneth cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m here.”

“So, no, not Houston, but I’m kind of mad you didn’t say anything about him at the diner.”

“It’s… new?” he offered, smiling when CJ laughed.

“We’ll talk more about that in a second. First, guess who I just saw at the shop?”

Kenneth knew “the shop” was the tattoo parlor CJ worked at as an apprentice, Rebel Yell Studio. “Um…” They didn’t have that many people in common for him to choose from, so he finally just said, “Tim?”

“Yes!”

Kenneth jolted. “Really?”

CJ cackled. “Really. He came in with some girl, and they were talking to Viper about getting matching tattoos. So, of course, I had to go over and say hi.”

Snorting, Kenneth relaxed back against his couch. “Of course. Was he thrilled to see you?”

“Oh, so very thrilled. He was so excited I thought he was going to throw up.” CJ snickered. “It was awesome. Then I told him that I’d seen you the other day and would be sure to tell you he said hi, and his face turned bright red, and he rushed out, leaving his girlfriend behind.”

Kenneth shook his head. “I feel kind of bad for him. And whoever that woman was he was with. He’s just going to end up hurting her.”

“I feel bad for her—I can’t imagine the sex is good at all—but fuck him.”

Kenneth choked on his own spit.

“He’s a shit person and doesn’t deserve our sympathy,” CJ insisted.

“His parents—”

“No,” CJ interrupted, voice firming. “Don’t do that. Don’t make excuses for him, Kenneth. I have awful, homophobic parents too, and they didn’t turn me into an asshole. I get that it must have been hard growing up with them, but he’s an adult now, and he’s choosing to stay. And he chose to treat me like shit.”

“You’re right,” he said, sighing. “I don’t know why I try and defend him still.”

“Because you’re a good person who tries to see the best in people,” CJ rattled off. “But not him. We don’t see good things in him. He’s a piece of shit.”

We. They really were becoming friends. Grinning, he said, “He really is.”

“Anyway, that’s what I called to tell you. What are you doing?”

He looked around his spotless apartment. “Um. Nothing?”

“Nothing?” CJ asked dubiously. “Like you’re just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and waiting to go back to work?”

Kenneth huffed a laugh. “No. I have plans later, but… I’m kind of nervous,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure if he should admit he was having dinner with Houston, even if Tank had somehow guessed that something was happening between them. Hell, he wasn’t used to sharing personal things with anyone that he wasn’t related to, but there was no way he could tell his siblings about all the things he wanted from Houston. “I stress-cleaned my apartment, and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh my god,” CJ exclaimed. “Are you going on a date with Houston?”

His mouth dropped open for a second before he snapped it shut. “Um. I don’t know that I’d call it a date…”

There was a loud noise and then a shuffling sound before he caught a faint “Oh fuck” in the background.

“CJ?”

“Yup, sorry, I’m here,” CJ blurted. “Just dropped my phone.”

“Um.”

“You’re at your apartment right now?”

“Yes?” He was a little concerned at the excitement CJ seemed to be experiencing.

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

Swinging open his apartment door, Kenneth stared with wide eyes at the duo standing in the hallway. “Um. Hi.”

CJ’s smile was sheepish. “Heeeeey. So, you remember Ollie, right?”

Kenneth stepped back so they could come in, a little overwhelmed at the idea of CJ and Ollie being in his apartment at the same time. Before Houston’s visit the night before, the only person who’d actually been inside his place since he’d moved in had been Kip. The couple of dates he’d had never made it past the front door.

He pasted on his best smile and tried to act like everything was completely normal.

“Sure. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He awkwardly extended a hand to Ollie, who took it with a smirk. “I know we’ve never officially met though. So, um, it’s nice to meet you.”

Smiling brightly, Ollie gave his hand a quick shake and pat on the back before strutting over to the couch and sitting with more grace than Kenneth could ever possess—and he’d done it in heels. His hair was a different color than the last two times Kenneth had seen him—a soft pink compared to the current dark, vibrant purple—but his gorgeous face and unabashed style were very memorable.

“That’s true,” Ollie said, smiling mischievously. “The first time, I was a little distracted by Six bleeding out all over the place—”

CJ snorted at that description as he settled on the chair next to the couch, and even Kenneth had to bite his lip to hold back a laugh.

“And the second—”

“We remember the second time,” CJ cut in, smiling even as he shook a finger at Ollie. “I thought Kenneth was going to burst into flames he was so embarrassed.”

Just the reminder of the way he, CJ, and Tank had heard what was clearly the end of some very passionate and kinky sex when Kenneth had gone to the clubhouse to remove Six’s stitches had his face flushing all over again. Ducking his head and coughing lightly, he sat on the other end of his couch and said, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Sorry about him,” CJ said, unabashedly looking around Kenneth’s apartment and taking in his possessions. “He insisted on coming because Six is too busy working today to entertain him, so he was bored.”

Ollie gasped, one polished hand going to his chest dramatically. “That is not true! Kenneth saved my Daddy’s life, so I care about him a great deal.”

Kenneth choked on air. “He wasn’t dying.”

Ollie waved at him dismissively. “Because of your heroic actions.”

Unable to help himself, Kenneth started laughing. The humor bubbled up inside him fast and unexpectedly, but he couldn’t hold it back even if he’d wanted to. He covered his mouth to try and stifle it, but it still took him a minute to get himself under control. Once he did, he glanced over and found both of them watching him with amused expressions.

“Sorry,” he said automatically, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He just knew he was uncomfortable having them both staring at him.

“Don’t be,” CJ said, smiling. “Ollie has that effect on people.”

“If by ‘effect’ you mean ‘charm the pants off,’ then yes, I do,” Ollie said, crossing his legs and reaching over to give Kenneth’s arm a pat. “But don’t get the wrong idea—I’m seriously off the market.”

Kenneth just nodded mutely, unsure how to handle someone like Ollie, as CJ muttered, “Oh dear lord,” next to him. He was about to assure him his pants were definitely not being charmed off, when a dark spot on Ollie’s pale thigh caught his eye. He was wearing jean shorts with a fringe along the bottom, but when he’d crossed his legs, the fringe had parted to reveal a large portion of his inner thigh.

Part of the tattoo was still hidden—because it was way up on Ollie’s thigh, good lord—but the bottom was visible. Kenneth swallowed at the bold, black lettering that spelled Daddy and what looked like the bottom of wings right above the word.

“Nice, right?” Ollie asked, noticing where Kenneth’s attention had been caught. Instead of trying to hide the tattoo or cover it again, Ollie twisted on the couch and tugged up the edge of his tight shorts to try and reveal more. Above the wings, the words Property of arched over them in a stylized script. “It’s still pretty new, so I like showing it off.”

Kenneth glanced at CJ and found him watching him carefully, like he was waiting to see how Kenneth would react. He turned back to Ollie and nodded. “It looks great. Um, so Six is your…”

Even with the word right in front of his face, he had a hard time saying it. Luckily, Ollie had no such problem.

“Daddy? Oh yeah.” Ollie grinned and relaxed back into the corner of the couch, giving a little wiggle of delight. “He’s fucking perfect too. Takes care of me in ways I hadn’t even known I’d needed.”

The words weren’t even that explicit or descriptive, yet Kenneth’s whole body heated. Running a palm over his thigh, he couldn’t meet Ollie’s gaze as he carefully asked, “It’s not… just in the bedroom, then?”

His face was on fire, and he had no idea how he’d found the nerve to ask someone he barely knew about his sex life. But he’d just been wondering if he could really have what he’d always wanted from a man, and then Ollie strolled into his apartment, proudly showing off a tattoo that declared him the property of someone else.

Others might have been disturbed at the idea, but Kenneth… he just wanted to know if there was any way he could be owned by another member of the motorcycle club.

“Not for us,” Ollie said, shaking his head, then nodding toward CJ. “He and Tank mostly keep it in the bedroom though.”

“Ollie,” CJ sighed, exasperated. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t just tell people my and Tank’s business.”

“Kenneth isn’t people,” Ollie said, flicking his fingers at CJ dismissively. “Not only did he save Six—”

“Again,” Kenneth felt the need to clarify, “he was not dying.”

“But you also said he and Houston are hooking up. He’s practically part of the family.”

Kenneth nearly swallowed his own tongue. “We’re not… We haven’t…”

“I said,” CJ clarified, overly enunciating the words, “that he and Houston have a date tonight. That was it.”

Ollie rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” He gave Kenneth an unimpressed look. “Houston is awesome. Are you saying you don’t want to get some of that?”

Kenneth was convinced there was no answer that would cleanly extract him from the conversation. Sighing, he pushed to his feet and paced away from the couch. “Houston is awesome.”

“But…” CJ prompted, smiling a little like he found Kenneth’s anxiousness amusing.

“Well, for starters,” he said, deciding to just go for it. He didn’t have anyone else in his life he could talk to about Houston and the feelings he was catching for the man. “I don’t know what his real name is even though he… stayed the night last night.”

“Ooooooh.” Ollie gave a little clap and bounced on the couch. “So you did hook up!”

“No, we…” He hesitated, unsure how to explain what had happened between them.

“Demarcus.”

He looked at CJ. “What?”

“That’s Houston’s name, but no one but Tomas and his mom call him that.” CJ spread his arms out in a thank you, next gesture. “What else you got? You want to know his birthday, or would you rather ask what you’re really worried about?”

Brows scrunched up, he glanced toward his now-full fridge, remembering how he’d felt compelled to go shopping to try and please Houston. “Last night, I wasn’t in a good place.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two exchange looks. “Are you okay?” CJ asked, voice gentler than it had been a minute ago.

He nodded, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m better today. I lost a patient last night and Houston… He helped me.” He looked over at Ollie, holding his knowing eyes. “Took care of me in a way I hadn’t known I needed.”

Ollie grinned widely. “So what’s the problem?”

“What if… What if he gets tired of taking care of me?” Kenneth whispered, squeezing his hands into fists and pressing them harder into his ribs. “I liked how it felt, but… what would someone like Houston get out of it? Why would he want to keep doing it?”

Ollie and CJ exchanged another look, and then Ollie patted the couch next to him, where Kenneth had been sitting. “Come sit back down, babes.”

CJ nodded. “Yeah. There are some things we should tell you about the Devil’s Hands MC.”

10

As Houston set his table, he tried to remember the last time he’d had an actual, honest-to-god date. It had to have been… a decade ago? Once he’d joined House of Bacchus, he hadn’t bothered trying to meet someone outside of those lust-soaked walls. Sure, he’d fucked men and women who’d hung out in the Garrote hoping to nab themselves a biker for an hour or maybe even a whole night.

But a real date?

He couldn’t actually say.

And for some reason, that made him kind of sad. Not that he regretted any of the folks he’d played with at the club or anything like that. More that he was beginning to realize that he’d been in a rut, had gotten complacent. Comfortable.

Had given up on finding love.

He had his family and the MC plus their work with the shelter, and then he had the Devil’s Garrote to take care of—though he’d hired several outstanding managers over the years that made it so he didn’t actually need to hover to know things were being done right—and the House to visit once or twice a month to sate his dominant urges.

His life was full in some ways and so empty in others.

He remembered wanting a partner, maybe even a family of his own, when he was younger, and he wondered when he’d given up on that. He could tell himself all he liked that he was fulfilled and happy with his life, but the fact of the matter was he slept alone and had for most of his adult life.

But after holding Kenneth in his arms through the whole night? Feeling his warmth and soft skin and waking to his sweet face?

Jesus Christ—he didn’t think he could go back to not having those things. Now that he knew what he’d been missing out on, he wanted more.

He wanted it all.

But he needed to be very careful not to spook Kenneth during their date. He reminded himself that Kenneth wasn’t an experienced sub like he was used to and wouldn’t come prepared with a checklist of kinks he preferred and his soft and hard limits. And despite how things had gotten a little out of hand in the bathroom the night before, Houston wasn’t sure how quickly Kenneth would be comfortable being intimate again. The way he’d seemed so surprised by his orgasm made Houston think he didn’t have them that often.

But that was okay. They could go at whatever pace Kenneth wanted as long as, in the end, Houston got to slip his property vest onto Kenneth’s slender torso.

Maybe even talk him into one of those property tattoos.

Grinning, he double-checked the time and realized he needed to head out if he was going to be on time to pick up his boy. The food wouldn’t take long to finish once they got back. His mom made huge batches of spaghetti sauce and snuck it into his freezer regularly, so he’d pulled one of those containers out earlier, and now the sauce was in a pan just waiting to be heated as he cooked the pasta. Not the most sophisticated of meals, he’d admit, but it would fill up Kenneth, and that was all he really cared about.

He was halfway to Kenneth’s when he realized he was still wearing his cut declaring his membership to the MC. Usually, he only wore it when he was doing club business or with other members, just to be on the safe side. Some people got weird about their club, comparing it to a gang or what they saw on TV.

Kenneth already knew about the club though, so he decided not to worry about it. Really, he should probably be more concerned Kenneth would balk at riding on his bike. He had a spare leather jacket and helmet in his saddlebag, but he wouldn’t force the issue if Kenneth didn’t feel comfortable getting on it with him. He’d just drive them back to his house in Kenneth’s car and grab his bike in the morning when he brought Kenneth home.

He parked in a guest spot outside Kenneth’s building, grinning at just the idea of getting to spend another night with Kenneth. He couldn’t fucking wait.

As soon as he opened the door to Kenneth’s building, he heard a raised voice, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, some instinct telling him to get to Kenneth. He took the steps up to the second floor two at a time, eyes narrowing at the sight of a tall, lean white guy pushing one hand on Kenneth’s door and preventing him from closing it.

“You can’t just show up at my place,” Kenneth was saying, voice strained and a little shaky.

Scared. His boy was fucking scared.

Houston saw red.

“This playing-hard-to-get shit isn’t cute,” the guy said, leaning down so he was closer to Kenneth’s face. Because of how his body was angled, neither he nor Kenneth had spotted Houston yet. “You said we could go out again, and then you ghosted me. Again. What the fuck is wrong with you th—”

Houston finally reached them and didn’t waste even a second, grabbing the back of the guy’s lightweight, tan jacket and ripping him back from the doorway. His arms flailed as he stumbled to stay on his feet as Houston spun him around and shoved him back against the wall next to the door. Houston ignored Kenneth’s shocked gasp for a second, focusing on the gaping asshole in front of him.

He grabbed the front of his clothes and held him firm, crowding into his space the same way he’d done to Kenneth. Except where this guy had some inches on Kenneth and nothing else, Houston was taller than the fucker and nearly twice as wide.

“What the fuck?” the guy sputtered, gripping at Houston’s wrists to try and tear him off but getting nowhere.

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t give a fuck.” Kenneth made an abrupt noise like he was going to tell Houston the guy’s name but then thought better of it. “You ever come over here and get in his face like that again and your mama won’t find enough of you to put into a shoebox. You hear me?”

Shocked, terrified eyes stared up at him as the guy gave a wobbly nod.

“Say it.”

“I h-hear you.”

The immediate words and the guy’s lack of any kind of spine cooled Houston’s rage a little, but he still leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “Actually, don’t ever come near him again. Kenneth is mine. Understood?”

“Un-understood.”

As he leaned back, Houston heard a door open behind him, but he kept his focus on the guy in front of him, who sprinted away the second the grip on his clothes loosened.

“You okay, hon?” a tentative feminine voice called.

Houston turned, raising his brows at the wooden bat in the young woman’s hand as she eyed him right back before looking at Kenneth.

Kenneth cleared his throat lightly and rubbed at his upper arms, face a little pale, but otherwise he looked unharmed. “Yes, thank you. I’m sorry we bothered you.”

The woman waved her hand and took a step into the hallway. “Don’t worry about that. I’d have been out sooner, but I couldn’t find my damn bat. Good thing your… gentleman here showed up and put that dickhead in his place.”

She gave them both a smile and then stepped back into her apartment. The silence left behind wasn’t the easy kind Houston was used to with Kenneth, some of his fury still lingering and making him edgy as fuck. He rolled his shoulders, trying to release it as he stepped closer to Kenneth.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Kenneth nodded jerkily and moved out of the way, eyes locked on Houston’s chest. He stepped into the apartment, noticing how spotless everything looked, but focused on Kenneth as soon as he closed the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” Kenneth asked softly. When Houston just looked at him in confusion, he nodded at Houston’s hands. “You keep making fists like you want to hit something.”

“Not you,” he said quickly, shaking his hands out, then slowly reaching for Kenneth’s face and cupping it. Kenneth didn’t flinch or resist at all, and that eased something in his chest as he tipped Kenneth’s head back to hold his golden-brown eyes behind his adorable glasses and crowded him against the door. His easy submission was like kindling to Houston’s agitation, burning it away and transforming it into a wildfire of desire. “I’d never hurt you.”

“I know,” Kenneth whispered. “I trust you.”

Groaning, Houston fell on Kenneth’s sweet mouth, unable to stop himself from devouring him. He couldn’t ignore the primitive drive pushing him to claim what was his. The audacity of that asshole to try and come and take what was Houston’s had made him see red. But the idea that Kenneth may have thought about choosing that other guy—even for a second—had him kissing him harder, hands gripping at Kenneth’s waist and ass as he pressed him against the door.

Doing his level best to possess Kenneth from the inside out.

“You’re mine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he growled as he moved down to bite and suck at Kenneth’s neck, intent on leaving a visible mark so others would fucking know to steer clear. The tiny whimpers and moans falling from his boy’s mouth were throwing gasoline on his forest fire, clouding his head and making it hard for him to think straight.

“Yes, Houston,” Kenneth said, chest heaving and fingers digging into his shoulders. His head tipped back so quickly, so easily, giving Houston more access to his smooth, tanned skin. Giving Houston everything without even needing to be asked, but he needed more. He needed the words.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.” His voice was calm and sure, no trace of his usual nerves. No hesitation.

Instead of cooling Houston’s jealousy, lust sparked through him, lighting up his veins and making his dick throb. “Fuck,” he snarled, dropping to his knees and going for Kenneth’s belt.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a taste of what’s mine.” When he had Kenneth’s belt undone and his zipper pulled down, he paused to look up. Kenneth stared down at him with blown pupils, panting, and arms splayed out to grip at the edges of the doorframe. “If you want me to stop, you need to say so right now.”

Kenneth was shaking his head before Houston even finished. “No, no, no. Don’t stop. Take what’s yours. Please.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

He tore Kenneth’s pants and underwear down in one quick tug, his cock already half-hard and gorgeous. Going slow wasn’t an option—he’d have to take his time to savor every moment later. He took a second to lean in and bury his face in the thatch of curls at the base, inhaling his boy’s musky scent and groaning.

“Houston,” Kenneth whimpered, one of his hands fluttering on the back of his head like he wasn’t sure where he was allowed to touch Houston.

“Hang on to me, sweetheart. I got you.” When his hands landed on Houston’s shoulders, he grunted in annoyance, leaning back for a second to shrug out of his cut and then pull off his T-shirt so he could feel his boy digging his nails into his skin when he got him right to the edge. “There. Now, don’t let go until I tell you to.”

Kenneth nodded right away, his hands smoothing down his shoulders to his biceps and back up, almost like his boy couldn’t resist. Houston wasn’t sure what enticed Kenneth more, his muscles or tattoos, but he’d figure that out later. “I won’t.”

“I know you won’t.” Houston grinned up at him as he leaned in, then ran his tongue from the base of Kenneth’s thickening cock to the tip. “Because you’re my perfect, sweet boy, aren’t you?”

“Ye—agh!”

Houston smiled around the head of Kenneth’s dick before sucking on it hard to try and make him yell again.

And he did.

Kenneth was wild as he thrashed against the door, moaning and begging for more.

It was intoxicating. Not just the taste of him on Houston’s tongue, but the way he seemed to just give himself over to the moment. There was no nervousness, no self-consciousness like there often was with Kenneth. He wasn’t worried about what anyone else thought or needed. He was simply feeling, reveling in the moment.

And it was beautiful.

It was sexy, and Houston loved every second of it. What had started as something fast and hard, a desperate drive to establish his dominance on the boy that he wanted all for his own, began to melt into something deeper and softer. His movements slowed.

He wanted to make the moment last. He wanted to give his boy so much pleasure he’d never think about another man ever again. To slow things down further, he moved his attention off Kenneth’s cock and down to his tight testicles, smiling against the lightly furred skin when Kenneth groaned in disappointment and tried to tug him back up.

He ignored his sweet boy, licking and sucking lightly on his balls, Kenneth’s breath catching in his throat when Houston took first one and then the other into his mouth and gave them a tug downward.

Sitting back to catch his breath, he brought one of his hands down from where he’d been gripping Kenneth’s hips to hold him against the door and fondled them, rolling his sac between his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, needing Kenneth to know. Needing to make him understand how desperate Kenneth made him for just a simple taste of his mouth or touch of his hand.

Kenneth bit into his bottom lip and shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. Not like he was denying the words. More like he couldn’t process them because of everything else he was feeling. But that was okay. Houston would keep telling him.

Over and over, for days or weeks or months, until Kenneth believed it and accepted Houston’s adoration as his due.

Houston leaned back in and meticulously licked off all of the precome coating Kenneth’s dick before sucking him back into his mouth and humming lightly. Kenneth’s nails dug in as he moaned and tried to arch against the door to push in farther. Houston tightened his hold on his hip, keeping him in place and giving his sac a firm squeeze as a gentle reprimand.

“Please, please, please. I’m so close. Please let me finish,” Kenneth begged, the sweet words hitting Houston in his own fucking balls.

He grunted, quickly undoing his pants and taking out his thick erection. He gave himself a few quick strokes, then went back to touching his boy. His own pleasure could damn well wait.

He took Kenneth as deep as he could, running his tongue over the veins and the edge of his spongy head. Sucking and licking, he enjoyed the weight of his boy’s long, slender dick, savoring his taste and coaxing out more and more.

Before too long, Kenneth’s whimpers began to grow higher in pitch, his fingers pressing into Houston’s neck and shoulders as he begged over and over again, nails digging into his skin. Instead of letting off to take him away from the edge again, Houston gripped the base of Kenneth’s length and started to stroke as he sucked hard on the tip, his movements fast and strong.

Kenneth yelped, his body trembling, and then he stiffened as his seed burst into Houston’s mouth, coating it. He did his best to suck out as much as he could until Kenneth whimpered and pushed at him, letting him know he was getting overly sensitive.

As soon as Houston loosened his grip though, Kenneth started to go down. Houston grabbed him and gently eased him down to the ground. He couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him, even as his own cock throbbed with need. Kenneth’s pants and underwear were around his ankles, his light blue sweater riding up over his belly, and the most perfectly satisfied smile on his face even though he was lying on the floor in front of his front door.

He was sweetness and temptation wrapped up in the perfect package.

Houston couldn’t resist taking his dick in hand and stroking himself to a quick finish, aiming down at Kenneth’s spent cock and coming all over him. Kenneth only hummed at the feeling, seeming unperturbed, then moaning softly when Houston rubbed his thick seed into his skin, leaving his scent behind on the most intimate part of Kenneth’s body.

It took a minute to catch his breath as he did up his pants and carefully redressed Kenneth, who barely moved. He didn’t even stir when Houston straightened his skewed glasses. Realizing his boy was going to be out of it for a while and not able to ride on the back of his motorcycle, Houston looked around but didn’t immediately see his car keys. He shook Kenneth’s shoulder gently.

“Sweetheart, where are your keys? We need to take your car to my place.”

Kenneth mumbled something about his coat. Houston looked up and located the peacoat Kenneth had been wearing the night before when he’d gotten home from the hospital. He found his keys in the right pocket, car and apartment all on one ring.

Carefully, he lifted his boy into his arms, and Kenneth cuddled against him immediately, murmuring, “Thank you, sir.”

The words had Houston’s spent dick trying to harden again, and he had to take a couple of quick breaths to steady himself. That conversation he’d been planning on having with Kenneth over dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

His sweet boy would be his. He’d make sure it.

11

Kenneth was a little fuzzy on how they got to Houston’s house.

He had a vague recollection of Houston asking where his keys were and picking him up, and then he was pretty sure he passed out. Though probably with a smile on his face after how amazing that orgasm had been.

Good gracious.

Now he was cuddled up on a very comfortable couch with a blanket that smelled like Houston while the scent of garlic and tomato permeated the air. The occasional clang was coming from what he was pretty sure was the kitchen, but it was mostly drowned out by the soft music playing on the television.

Biting his lip, Kenneth sat up straighter and looked around, trying to decide if he should get up and offer to help or stay where Houston had obviously put him.

Or he could snoop around a little.

The living room was decorated in a very minimalist style—other than the furniture and the television mounted on the wall above a fireplace, there was only a family picture hanging on one wall. Though, there was a bookcase in the corner of the room, but it was filled with actual books and what looked like a few DVDs, not knickknacks.

Deciding the books were his best bet for a little insight into Houston, he stood and went to check them out, surprised at the wide selection. The man had everything from David Baldacci to Nora Roberts and a wide assortment of biographies. Squatting, he had just noticed a few old textbooks on the bottom shelf when he heard Houston chuckling behind him.

“Find anything you like?”

Flushing at getting caught, he pushed to his feet and turned around. “Sorry.”

Houston frowned, tossing the dish towel in his hands over one shoulder and coming forward. He cupped Kenneth’s cheek and leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, shooting tiny bursts of pleasure through his body at the contact and the easy way Houston touched him. Like he had every right to.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

“Okay,” Kenneth murmured, hoping for another, longer kiss, but Houston pulled back to smile down at him.

“Dinner’s just about ready. Come on.”

He led Kenneth out of the living room and into the brightly lit kitchen, directing him over to a square table that was already set, including candles and flowers in the middle. Kenneth paused, staring at the arrangement, and tried not to get emotional over it. No one had ever made him dinner for a date before. The obvious care Houston had taken to make everything look perfect was almost too much for him, making his heart melt and palms sweat.

As if reading his mind, Houston rested a hand on the small of Kenneth’s back and said, “Is it too over-the-top? The flowers are too much, aren’t they?”

Kenneth shook his head, then turned and pressed himself into Houston’s front, needing a moment. Houston’s strong arms wrapped around him immediately. “It’s perfect,” he insisted against Houston’s chest. “The flowers are beautiful.”

Houston’s arms tightened. “Not as beautiful as you, sweet boy.”

Kenneth burrowed deeper, pressing his flushed cheeks as far into Houston as he could get. He was starting to think Houston really meant it when he said things like that, calling him perfect or beautiful. Sweet.

It made his insides squirm in the best way.

“Thank you.” He had to bite back the last word that wanted to slip out, especially after his conversation with CJ and Ollie and then Houston’s possessiveness at Kenneth’s apartment. Calling Houston sir without talking to him about it first probably wasn’t the best decision though. No matter that Ollie’s advice had been the opposite, the cheeky boy encouraging him to just jump in with both feet. Kenneth had never been that brave, or reckless.

Houston hummed, one of his hands gliding down Kenneth’s back to his ass, giving him a quick squeeze and making his breath catch. “Go sit. I’ll bring the food over.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, even as he headed over to the table and sat at one of the place settings.

“Nope. I got this. You just relax.”

Kenneth smiled to himself, running a finger along the edge of his plate. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, Houston had placed the pasta, salad, and bread on the table, then took a seat, smiling gently at Kenneth. “Dig in while it’s hot.”

He hesitated for a moment. It felt like there was a giant elephant in the room that they were ignoring, and he wondered if they should just get the conversation over with. He wasn’t feeling quite as anxious, thanks to his conversation with CJ and Ollie—not to mention the mind-blowing orgasm. But it also felt like he should maybe just follow Houston’s lead on the evening.

Finally, he decided to just go with his instincts and trust that Houston would bring up the things they needed to talk about when he was ready. He filled his plate with food and started eating, watching Houston out of the corner of his eye.

They got about halfway through their meal before he noticed Houston slowing down. They’d only chatted about mundane things so far, and he had a feeling it was finally time for the conversation.

Houston cleared his throat and set down his utensils, and Kenneth followed suit, sitting up straight and setting his fork on the table.

“Kenneth,” Houston started, then paused.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay with what happened earlier?”

That hadn’t been what he was expecting him to say, so he took a moment to really think about his answer before finally asking, “Which part?”

It wasn’t that he necessarily had a problem with anything that had happened, but he felt like it was important that he know where Houston’s head was at. Houston held his eyes easily, but there was something lingering in their dark depths. Something almost like apprehension.

“What I said to that guy at your apartment. Did that scare you?”

Kenneth didn’t even know what he was talking about right away, and then he jolted when he realized that he probably should have been scared—or at least intimidated or apprehensive—by the fact that Houston had straight up threatened to kill Brock. In the moment though, it had seemed not only appropriate but necessary.

Kenneth had needed protecting, and so Houston had done it.

Looking back, it was a bit of an overreaction. The logical and professional part of Kenneth knew that it was never okay to hurt someone like that—or even to threaten to hurt them in such a violent manner.

Or, at least, that was what his brain was telling him. That he shouldn’t be okay with what Houston said, that he should be terrified at how deadly serious he had sounded, and he should definitely not have let Houston blow him right afterward or take him back to his house.

But in reality… Brock had scared him. Badly. Kenneth hadn’t responded to the text he’d gotten from the man earlier in the day and hadn’t thought another thing of it, so consumed with thoughts of Houston and their night together and the one ahead. So to open his door expecting Houston’s playful grin and to find Brock’s hard scowl—it had scared him way more than anything Houston had said or done.

And at the end of the day, if someone hurt him or threatened him, would he honestly be upset if Houston defended him again? Even if it was with something more violent than words and a shove against the wall?

He knew what the answer should be—how polite society would expect him to feel—but the truth was… he liked the idea that Houston would go to such extremes to protect him.

Maybe that made him a bad person, but he couldn’t help it.

He’d spent his whole life taking care of others, and it honestly just felt good, knowing that someone would take care of him like that. So completely. So thoroughly.

Deciding maybe Ollie had had the right idea all along, Kenneth decided to take the plunge.

“You didn’t scare me,” he said, holding Houston’s gaze. “Maybe it should have scared me, but it didn’t.” He thought about just leaving it at that, but he wanted to share the parts of himself he’d always kept hidden. That meant he needed to be completely honest. “I liked it.”

Houston shifted in his seat, his shoulders straightening just a little and his jaw tensing for a second before relaxing. “You liked it?”

“Yes.” His heart was racing in his chest. “I liked that you were willing to fight for me, to protect me. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Houston’s eyes were intense, full of heat and a promise Kenneth wasn’t sure he was quite ready for. “This morning, you said you were worried that I would get tired of taking care of you.”

Their conversation on the phone felt like it had been a week ago. A month. Before his conversation with Ollie and CJ. Before Brock showed up at his apartment uninvited. Before Houston threatened Brock and then blew Kenneth’s mind by blowing his cock. Before carrying him into his home and covering him with a blanket and then feeding him a home-cooked meal.

It was… a lot for one day.

“I don’t feel quite as worried about that,” Kenneth said carefully, letting his eyes drop to his plate. “To be honest, I had an enlightening conversation with CJ and Ollie this afternoon.”

He glanced up in surprise when Houston chuckled. “I should have known those two would stick their noses into things.”

Kenneth smiled, but it fell away as he concentrated on his water glass, trying to figure out how to word what his fears really were. “I told CJ I was nervous about tonight because… maybe there would be things I wanted in a relationship—things I’ve never gotten before—that you wouldn’t… be willing to do.” He flicked a look up at Houston, but his face didn’t reveal anything. “But they said that a lot of the members of your motorcycle club seem to be… willing to do those things.”

He felt so awkward and silly for dancing around things instead of just being blunt like Ollie and CJ were. But he’d never openly talked about his desires to anybody else before, and definitely not with a partner—or prospective partner, really.

The feelings he was developing for Houston seemed so big, so consuming, it was hard to remember they didn’t really know each other that well. They’d only spent one night together, and this dinner was their first official date.

When Houston didn’t say anything, he glanced back up to try and gauge his reaction and was surprised by the small smile on his face.

“Sweet boy,” Houston said, reaching across the table to cover Kenneth’s hand with one of his big, warm ones. “I’ve been a Dom at a BDSM club for about ten years.”

Kenneth jerked in surprise, staring at Houston with wide eyes. “CJ didn’t mention that.”

Chuckling, Houston gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, until recently, I didn’t think anyone in my club knew, but apparently Tomas is even nosier than I thought.”

The annoying expression on Houston’s face told him there was a story behind that, but he decided to ask about it later. “So you, um, like to be in control?”

The grin that spread across Houston’s face was one that Kenneth recognized from the parking garage stairwell the week before. The one that made him feel like prey to Houston’s predator. “Sweetheart, that’s putting it mildly.”

Kenneth swallowed. “So that’s what you meant when you said you won’t get tired of taking care of me?”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant. To me, being a Dominant is about taking care of my partner and all of their needs.”

“What do you get out of that?” Kenneth whispered, leaning forward slightly, his fingers flexing under Houston’s hand.

“Submission. Trust.” Houston’s lips tipped up in the corner. “And something pretty to look at.”

Kenneth’s cheeks heated even as his pulse fluttered. “What do you mean ‘something pretty to look at’?”

“Well,” Houston said carefully. “I also enjoy tying up my partners during sex sometimes. Or just to put them on display.”

Breath catching in his throat, Kenneth stared at him, his whole body warming. “Just to put them on display?”

“Yes, Japanese rope bondage is an art form. Something I’ve studied for years. Different knots. Different ways to restrain. Different ways to decorate the human body.”

“And that’s what you would want? To tie me up?”

Houston gently turned his hand over so they were palm to palm and interlaced their fingers. “Yes. That is what I’d want to do to you. But it doesn’t have to be right away. Doesn’t have to be all the time. But it is something I truly enjoy, and I’d like to share it with a partner.”

“What else do you like?” Kenneth asked quietly, trying to pretend like his dick wasn’t hard in his pants already. Even after the orgasm Houston had given him at his apartment.

Houston’s tiny grin let him know he wasn’t fooling him at all and countered, “You share something you like or want to try. I’ve tried different things over the years, and other than rope, there are a lot of things I enjoy but don’t necessarily have to have. So you tell me what you need, boy.”

Kenneth started to look away, but Houston squeezed his hand again.

“Keep your eyes on me. Don’t think about what you should say or should want. Tell me what you need so I can give it to you.”

Kenneth shrugged a little, his eyes burning. “I’ve never done anything like this before, so I don’t really know what I’d like.” He paused, unsure how to articulate what he was feeling, but Houston’s steady presence and warm touch helped draw the words out. “All I know is… I want to be important. To be someone’s priority.” He blinked back his tears, feeling overwhelmed at just saying the words. His deepest desires. “I want to be cared for.”

The image of Ollie’s tattoo flashed in his mind, his chest tightening as he held his breath. Was he really going to say this? Out loud? He licked his dry lips as Houston’s intense eyes snagged and held him.

God, he really was prey.

“I want to be owned.”

* * *

“You’re sure about this? There’s no rush.”

Kenneth nodded, unable to look away from the teal rope in Houston’s hands. What would it feel like? Would it be rough? Soft? Tight? When Houston didn’t do or say anything, that finally got Kenneth to look up, and he found him watching him, waiting expectantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I meant: Yes, sir.” Just saying the words heated his blood another ten degrees.

Houston smiled, nodding slightly. Always verbalizing consent was one of the things they’d talked about after Houston’s revelation about being a Dom. They’d cleaned up dinner and moved into the living room, where they’d talked about more things Houston liked, what Kenneth thought he might like to try, and about how they could go as fast or as slow as they needed. There would never be any rush or pressure.

It had been sweet how adamant Houston had been, like Kenneth hadn’t been desperate to throw himself at Houston since the moment he saw him at the Devil’s Garrote.

Houston even told him about how he wanted to have a kink party at the clubhouse to help other members find play partners and how his friend Zachary was insisting on doing a bunch of demos first until he felt the MC was ready to host something like that.

Though he was trying not to think about what it would mean for Houston to do a demonstration in front of his motorcycle club. Because if he didn’t think about it, then he didn’t have to wonder if Houston would ask him to help or if he would use someone else. And he definitely couldn’t handle thinking about that at the moment.

Instead, he focused on the rope in Houston’s hands and what it meant for the two of them. He’d worry about the future and the demos and the possibility of either standing up in front of the MC as he got tied up or having to stand there and watch Houston do it to someone else another day.

When they’d started their conversation in the living room, they’d been on opposite sides of the couch, but somehow, Kenneth had gotten closer and closer to Houston without realizing it until Houston had grabbed him and pulled him into his lap. He’d kept talking like nothing had changed, asking if Kenneth had ever used a safe word before, while softly running his fingers over Kenneth. Up and down his back and then his legs and then between his legs.

It had become so distracting Kenneth hadn’t been able to keep up with the conversation anymore.

Houston had suggested in his low, slow growl that they could head back to his bedroom, and Kenneth had somehow found the nerve to ask for the rope. Just to try it.

He wasn’t exactly sure what the big deal was, but he was interested in giving something so important to Houston. He understood the idea of restraining someone to a bed or another piece of furniture during sex. But the way Houston talked about rope bondage, it seemed like that was… almost secondary. If sex was involved at all.

Dear god, he hoped sex would be involved this time.

Houston studied him, his face serious but not cold. Kenneth wasn’t sure what he was looking for but tried to project excitement and none of his nerves.

Finally, Houston nodded again and ordered, “Strip. Fold your clothes and place them on the chair in the corner.”

Kenneth sucked in a breath, a little scared but a lot aroused. Like, a lot.

As he began to pull off his clothes, he was struck with skin-skittering nerves at how Houston was watching. Any other time he’d gotten naked with a guy, they’d both been stripping or they were in the throes of passion.

The way Houston watched him so carefully, almost clinically, made him feel more vulnerable than he had ever been getting naked in front of other guys. But the squirming in his stomach let him know, without a doubt, it was the good kind of vulnerable. The kind he’d been searching for for years.

The air in the room had heated and gotten a little heavy in a new and enticing way by the time he finished folding and placing his clothes where he’d been instructed. He had to pause to take a couple of deep breaths before returning to the end of the bed though.

There was a small smile at the corner of Houston’s mouth when Kenneth stopped in front of him, completely bare. “Good boy.”

Kenneth couldn’t help but preen a little at the praise. It didn’t matter that it felt like he hadn’t really done anything to earn it yet. He just liked the words. They hit him like rain on summer-parched soil.

“Are you warm enough? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No, sir.”

“You remember the traffic light system we talked about?” Houston ran the rope through his hands, the move sensual and fluid.

Kenneth shivered, forcing his eyes back up to Houston’s smirking face. “Yes, sir. Red to stop. Yellow to slow down.”

“Good.” Houston ran his eyes over Kenneth’s body once more, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He didn’t linger on Kenneth’s stiffening cock or puckered nipples, yet it was like he’d caressed everywhere he looked, the weight of his gaze so heavy. “Let’s begin.”

Houston set the rope down on the end of the bed, peeled off his own shirt, and tossed it aside. It didn’t matter that Kenneth had seen him naked in the shower the day before. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to see Houston’s body unclothed and be unaffected. It was obvious he spent time in the gym but not so much that he was completely ripped. Just thick muscles and obvious strength. The intricate and beautiful mandala on his pec drew Kenneth’s eyes, but he also had thick black lines on his shoulders and biceps.

Kenneth’s mouth watered at the idea of running his tongue over every inch of his chest and tattoos, and he hoped he’d get the chance to do it soon.

Once Houston’s shirt was removed, he picked up the rope once more and stepped behind Kenneth. “Fold your arms behind your back,” he said quietly but firmly.

He didn’t need to raise his voice to give an order, but there was a subtle change to it when he was in this headspace. Kenneth couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, just that it was different. The subtle shift letting him know this was Houston the Dominant, not Houston the sweet guy who bought him breakfast.

He jolted a little when he felt the soft rope touch his wrist for the first time. But a deep breath and a firm hand on his shoulder for a moment helped steady him. Houston didn’t ask if he wanted them to stop; he just gave him a moment and then kept going, knowing that Kenneth could use his safe word if he needed to.

The room was quiet, peaceful, and Kenneth found as he stood there, complacent and trusting, that it was almost hypnotic. The feeling of the rope wrapping and twisting and wrapping and twisting around his arms, chest, and waist.

Slowly. Methodically. With precision and great care.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, and it didn’t matter. He’d stand there all night if Houston asked him to. But he knew it must have been at least half an hour when Houston checked in on him again, making sure he was still warm enough. That he wasn’t cramping or experiencing any tingling anywhere.

It hit Kenneth then that Houston the Dominant and Houston the man who bought him breakfast were the same. The care that Houston had shown him the night before and that morning was there in the way he read Kenneth’s body, used verbal check-ins, and touched him with authority.

Giving Kenneth the thing he had asked for: to feel like he was being completely possessed.

He didn’t even realize his cock was fully hard until Houston said, “There. Now isn’t that a pretty picture.”

Kenneth sucked in a deep breath and shivered at the feeling of all the strands of rope tightening against his skin as his chest expanded. It was intoxicating. When he flexed his arms, trying to move them and there wasn’t any give, his whole body flushed, and a whimper slipped out as his belly flipped.

Good gracious. He was beginning to understand the appeal.

Houston stepped up behind him, pressing his bare chest to Kenneth’s arms and back. He nuzzled his face into Kenneth’s neck and hummed lightly, wrapping his arms around him.

All of Houston’s hot skin and firm muscles combined with the restraining rope was like a bolt of electricity jolting him back into his body. The arousal that had been swirling through him lazily suddenly came into focus and turned everything sharper, even as the edges of his vision got a little hazy. He felt a drop of precome slide down his length and tipped his head back with a moan, eyes falling shut.

He shuddered when Houston rasped against his skin, “Do you like it, sweet boy?”

Kenneth hadn’t even actually looked down. Even without seeing himself, he knew he liked how it felt. He dropped his gaze to his chest and sucked in a shaky breath. The rope didn’t go below his waist, and he knew that the ties on his arms were probably more intricate, but even the pattern on his chest and pecs and down his stomach was beautiful.

It was obvious that Houston had taken Kenneth’s individual body into consideration as he bound him in a way that perfectly accentuated him and his form. For some reason, that made his eyes burn, but he blinked the sensation away. He had to clear his throat before he could answer, emotions he didn’t fully understand lodged in the back. “It’s beautiful, sir.”

“Yes, you are,” Houston said, running one big hand down Kenneth’s abs. He cupped his erection and gave him a squeeze.

Kenneth moaned and arched as much as he could, which wasn’t much, and the limitation only deepened his desire. He was completely at Houston’s mercy, and it was… amazing.

When Houston stepped away, Kenneth’s eyes fluttered open, and he saw that he was grabbing a pillow from off the bed. He returned to where Kenneth was waiting at the end and dropped the pillow on the floor, gesturing at it.

“Kneel for me, sweet boy.”

Kenneth didn’t think about it. Didn’t hesitate for even a second.

He dropped to his knees onto the pillow, arms secured behind his back. He knew, without a doubt, that if he started to lose his balance, Houston would be there. He’d catch Kenneth and keep him safe.

Everything was a little… syrupy. He could feel the warm air of the room like a caress on his bare skin. A bead of sweat ran down his spine, and he had to suck in a breath, the sensation more sensual than anything any other man had done to him. No one had ever cared for him or made him feel the things that Houston did.

He tipped his head back and stared up at him, his Dom, and waited for his next instruction.

“So fucking beautiful.” Houston ran his fingers through Kenneth’s hair, messing up the perfectly maintained style that kept his waves under control. But for once, Kenneth didn’t care if his hair was messy. All he cared about was doing what he was told and giving Houston as much pleasure and satisfaction as he was giving him.

Licking his lips, he dropped his eyes to the obvious bulge in Houston’s pants. “Sir, can I please?”

Houston chuckled. “Always so polite. I think I’d give you just about anything if you looked at me like you are right now as you begged me.” He rubbed his thumb over one of Kenneth’s brows. “These big, golden eyes a little glassy and your perfect lips damp.”

Kenneth’s stomach clenched, and he moaned softly, wondering what else he could beg for and how much Houston would really give him. In that moment though, there was only one thing he wanted. Only one thing he could focus on through the haze of his submission. “Please, sir. Please let me. Let me please you.”

Groaning, Houston undid his pants, pushing them and his underwear down to his thighs. His thick cock was already swollen and dripping, ready for Kenneth to take such good care of him. “You already please me, Kenneth.”

Kenneth whimpered, his chest heating at the assurance, and tried to lean forward to take a taste, but Houston’s fingers tightened in his hair before he could make contact. The soft sting pulled a moan from him, and he settled back onto his knees, remembering that he needed to be patient. That Houston was in control, not him.

All he had to do was as he was told.

“That’s it,” Houston murmured, gliding his fingers through his hair once more. Gentler, a reward for following even Houston’s wordless commands. “You don’t have to do anything but take it, sweet boy. Open your mouth.”

He parted his lips immediately, his eyes falling to half-mast. The urgency from a moment ago faded away, and all he was left with was the certainty that he could do this every day for the rest of his life and never be tired of it. The simplicity of not having to decide anything or worry about doing the right thing was freeing in a way that sent him soaring.

Houston’s big mushroom head pushed into his mouth, and the taste of him burst on his tongue. He closed his lips around him and sucked, running his tongue over every inch he was given. Houston tightened his hold in his hair once more, pushing his hips forward and sinking farther into Kenneth’s mouth. Slowly, carefully, he moved in and out, feeding Kenneth a little more of his cock each time and whispering words of praise above him. The easy way Houston controlled him and told him how good he was doing at pleasuring him had him flying higher and higher.

Kenneth followed his rhythm, relaxing and allowing Houston in as deep as he wanted and then tightening his lips and sucking as he pulled out. Over and over, moaning softly at how good it felt to be used, to know that Houston was using his mouth to feel good.

Time ceased to make sense, contracting, then expanding, making Kenneth lose his focus of anything other than the cock shuttling in and out of his mouth. It was all that mattered. Houston was all that mattered. He wanted to stay suspended in that moment forever, even as his jaw began to ache a little, his lips puffy and bruised in the best possible way.

He was made to be on his knees for Houston, restrained and submitting to everything he wanted to take or give him.

Houston began to speed up, deep grunts falling over Kenneth as he let his eyes fall shut and gave himself over to the moment, to Houston, to the feeling of being owned by him. He was completely and utterly his.

It was pure ecstasy.

As Houston’s strokes between his lips shortened, the vein along the bottom beginning to throb against his tongue, Kenneth couldn’t help but flex his own hips, his balls drawing up. He hadn’t been focused at all on his own pleasure, but it was still there, had still been building the entire time. And when Houston cursed and pushed in, deeper than he had before, Kenneth choked a little, his throat spasming as Houston’s hot come filled him.

And that was it. That was all it took.

His cock shot off without a single touch, his body arching as electric pleasure shot through him, and he screamed, the sound muffled around Houston’s still-spurting dick. All he could taste, all he could feel, all he could smell was Houston and sex and sweat.

It was… everything he’d ever wanted and then some.

And he’d do just about anything to keep it.

He just prayed Houston felt the same way.

12

“Demarcus? Are you listening?”

Houston looked up from his half-empty plate and stared at his mom across the dining room table, ignoring his snickering sister. “Sorry, no. I got distracted.”

His mom frowned but didn’t comment or ask what he had been distracted by, which was probably for the best because he couldn’t exactly tell her that he couldn’t stop thinking about a certain nurse and all the sexy fun they’d gotten up to in the last two weeks.

The fact that Kenneth was not only open to trying the things that Houston said he wanted to but had also fully embraced his own submission and Houston’s domination over him felt amazing in a way he couldn’t even hope to describe. It was like… swimming in a cool pond after being parched his whole life.

He’d connected with subs before but never as quickly or as deeply as he had with Kenneth. He couldn’t explain it any other way besides they seemed to be made for one another.

But, despite how much time they’d spent together or how fast they were moving or how much he wanted to just move Kenneth into his house and never let him out of his sight, he didn’t think Kenneth was ready to meet his family as his boyfriend, and that’s exactly what his mother would demand if she knew he was seeing someone.

So instead, he smiled and tried to pay attention as she retold him the story about some bit of gossip she’d heard at church that morning. Since he and his siblings had grown up in that same church, he recognized the names of most of the people she would talk about, even if he hadn’t attended since he’d turned eighteen.

He was just taking his final bite when his mom broached the topic he’d been waiting for her to bring up since he’d arrived an hour ago. Sunday dinners were mandatory in her eyes, and he’d been… a little lax lately.

“We missed you for dinner the last two weeks.”

Her eyebrows were in full-on Judgy Mom mode, but he just smiled, ate the last bite of his pork chop, and nodded. “I know. Sorry. Something came up two weeks ago that I couldn’t get out of, and I was on phone duty last weekend and had a call.”

He didn’t tell her that the something had been Kenneth and the fact that they hadn’t left his house at all that Sunday. He would have kept him there even longer if Kenneth hadn’t had a shift the following day. Having phone duty last weekend had turned out to be a good distraction while he was working too, since his boy apparently had to work every other Saturday and Sunday. Houston hadn’t told him about the MC’s extracurricular activities yet, wanting to get Tomas’s okay first, but he knew his friend would approve it.

He and Kenneth were the real deal, and Houston didn’t want any secrets from him.

Cynthia was still eyeing him, but her partner, Tay, just smiled and dutifully changed the subject because they were awesome like that. “Cecelia, did I tell you that CJ told me he ran into Tomas’s sister, and she wants to have another family-and-friends barbeque now that the weather’s getting warmer?”

Of course, that was the perfect thing to distract his mom, and she immediately started planning the food she would bring and who she would get to help her make everything and how they should set things up differently this time. She reached over and laid a hand over Tay’s and asked if they would bring the potato salad again since it had been such a hit last time.

Tay, who had always been so pale next to his dark-skinned family that it seemed like they never stepped foot outside, flushed bright red at the praise and nodded, offering to help any way his mom needed. The two of them made a plan to reach out to Tomas’s sister Jill that week—his mom commenting on how she should really call her more often.

Houston smiled as he stood, collecting some dishes to take into the kitchen. As much as his mom sometimes got on him about certain things, she was still the literal best. When he’d patched in to the Devil’s Hands, she hadn’t even blinked other than to comment on how she wasn’t a fan of the name, being the good Christian woman that she was.

The one time she’d brought it up to Tomas, he’d looked her dead in the eye and said, “Ma’am, the other clubs would make fun of us if we were called the Angel’s Hands.” He’d never heard his mom laugh so hard in his life. He was pretty sure she had a little bit of a crush on Tomas, but he tried not to think too hard about it.

Either way, there had never been a question about whether or not she would accept him and his friends. Hell, she’d gone way beyond acceptance. So many of the members had come from such shitty families that either barely spoke to them or had cut contact, and she’d adopted each and every one, caring for them and feeding them. It was like the day he patched in, she’d gained a few dozen more children, and she couldn’t have been happier about it.

He carried his load of dirty dishes into the kitchen as his mom and Tay kept chatting, having pulled a pen and paper from out of somewhere so she could jot down ideas. “We could do Memorial Day weekend,” she was saying. “That would give us a few weeks to make sure everyone was available, and hopefully the weather will cooperate.”

“That’d be perfect,” Tay said, bouncing a little in their chair. “I think the club was going to do a ride at some point that weekend too, so we could do the barbeque afterward.”

“We are. Just get ahold of Marv to coordinate,” he called back out. Marv was the club’s Road Captain and handled all the logistics of their rides.

He didn’t miss the fact that Cynthia had gathered up some dishes and followed right behind him into the kitchen. At the sink, he started rinsing plates and loading them into the dishwasher, pretending like he didn’t know she was lurking behind him, getting ready to pounce.

“So,” she said, about as nonchalant as a slap upside the head. “I hear the club’s planning some sort of party.”

He grimaced but kept his back turned to her. That hadn’t taken nearly as long as he had hoped to get back to her. He knew she was kept apprised of certain club business and anything else that Tomas felt could come back to bite them in the ass so she could keep them covered.

“Yeah. And?” he finally said, knowing she wouldn’t just drop it if he ignored her.

When she didn’t answer right away, he sighed and finally turned to face her, drying his hands, then crossing his arms over his chest. She just stared at him like she expected him to spill his guts, but that didn’t work on him like it did everyone else. He raised his brows and waited.

Finally, she huffed and caved. “Are you going to just stand there and make me ask?”

He kept his mouth shut.

“Seriously, D?” She rolled her eyes. “Tomas didn’t tell me that it was your idea, but he didn’t not tell me either.”

Houston wasn’t sure what that meant, but he did know that he needed to have a chat with the club’s president. “What do you want me to say then? Do you want me to tell you about my sex life? I’ve never asked about yours—”

That made her straight up laugh in his face, and he knew she had him. “Except for when you would interrogate me every time I had a date or heaven forbid a boyfriend all through high school.”

“That was different. That was me making sure you were safe.”

“You don’t think that’s what I’m trying to do?” She almost sounded hurt, but he wasn’t going to fall for it.

“No, I think you’re being nosy, and you should mind your business.”

Cynthia sighed. “It’s not exactly a secret, you know.”

His heart turned over in his chest. Oh god, this was his brother all over again. “What isn’t?”

“The things that some of the club members get up to.” She waved a hand at him, her well-manicured nails getting uncomfortably close to his face and forcing him to lean back to get out of range. “I might not be there during most of the rowdy parties, but even I’ve noticed a thing or two with some of the… couples.”

She said it delicately, like she wanted him to pick up the hint and be the one to actually say the words, but there was no way he was talking to his baby sister about D/s relationships.

“Okay,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Did you have a legal question about this party? We’re going to have you draw up waivers and consent forms for everyone to sign.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring his pose. “You really are a stubborn SOB, you know that?”

That made him grin. Most people in his life would disagree with that sentiment, only seeing the easygoing side of him, but his sister had always known how to push his hardheaded buttons. “To be fair, you bring it out in me.”

“Okay, big brother. Well, back atcha.”

When she didn’t say anything else, he lowered his arms and relaxed since it seemed like she’d given up on trying to get him to admit… whatever it was she wanted him to say. That he was a Dom? That it was his idea to have the party? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he was glad the conversation was over.

He should have known better.

“I just wanted to know if… all this”—she gestured vaguely—“had anything to do with why you and David can’t be in the same room with one another unless someone else is there to referee.”

Houston flinched. He couldn’t help it. Just the sound of his twin’s name was enough to make him angry and sad all at once. When they were younger, he and David were so close. Not freaky twins close, but they’d done a lot of the same things, had all the same friends, and shared all their secrets with each other.

But as they’d gotten older, they’d grown apart. They’d gone to separate colleges after high school and had different dreams. Houston had always known he didn’t want to work for someone else, whereas David was the strait-laced corporate type down to his bones. Still… he would have called David his best friend up until a couple of years ago, when everything had fallen apart.

“What makes you say that?” he croaked. He cleared his throat and glanced away, not liking the pity he saw on her face.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just some of the things that he’s said over the last couple of years. Little barbs that didn’t make sense at first but lately started adding up.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, to deny everything and end the conversation. Just say goodbye to his mom and Tay and walk out.

But this was his baby sister.

He’d helped take care of her after his dad died right after she was born. He’d cried with her when she hadn’t been accepted to her number one choice of law schools. He’d cheered with her when she’d graduated at the top of her class at her second choice, and he’d gotten used to the easy familiarity of having her around the club and his friends.

He didn’t want to lose any of that, and yeah, telling her what she wanted to know might drive her away like it had his brother, but he also knew, with certainty, that if she felt like he was keeping secrets from her and being dishonest, that would cause her to pull away too.

That wasn’t how their family was supposed to operate.

He’d told himself over the years that it didn’t matter, that he didn’t need to share his sex life with anyone. Especially not his family. But it had always felt a little bit like a lie. Not because he needed to share exactly what he got up to with his partners, but because it was more than just sex.

Being a Dom was an intrinsic part of his personality, and he’d kept it hidden from her—and his MC—for years.

“I still think this is weird to talk to you about,” he finally said, meeting her gaze and straightening his shoulders. “But yeah, the party was my idea. I brought in a guy I know from… another club that I’m a member of to help plan it. If you haven’t met him yet, I’m sure you will. His name’s Zachary.” He paused, eyeing her. “Do you want more information than that?”

She gave him this kind of soft, pleased smile. It was completely at odds to how she looked when she was barking orders at the club or chasing off deputies snooping around the bar. “You didn’t answer whether this was what came between you and David.”

He let out a long breath, glancing toward the dining room, even though he could still hear his mom and Tay talking. Knowing his sister, she’d told Tay to keep their mom occupied so that she could corner him in the kitchen to get answers from him. “Yeah, Cyn. David found out some of the things that I like to… partake in—with other consenting adults—and he found it offensive. He said some things that I’m not willing to repeat and implied that only a deviant would enjoy such things.”

That made Cynthia laugh but not in a humorous way. “He seriously called you a deviant?”

Houston nodded. “Yeah, it was actually kind of weird. It was like he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He just knew that it seemed wrong to him, wrong to want such things.”

“It’s not,” she said quietly but with a fierceness that made him smile.

“I know.”

She gave a sharp nod. “Good.” She relaxed back against the counter behind her and asked more carefully, “Did you guys ever talk about it? Like, did you try and explain why you like it or what your partners maybe get out of it?”

“No, I told him that until he was ready to fucking apologize, he could stay away from me unless he wanted to get his ass beat.”

“Demarcus, that was two years ago. You guys still haven’t talked about it?”

He shook his head, his stomach swirling at the reminder. “He never apologized. I honestly thought he would. I thought he would come to his senses, maybe do some research on his own, and then come to me and say, ‘Hey, man, I don’t get it, but whatever floats your boat.’ But it was like…” Houston hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was almost like he used it as an excuse to drive this wedge between us. Like it was confirmation that we were just too different, and he didn’t want me in his life anymore.”

Cynthia let out of sad sound. “Houston, I’m sure that’s not true. You guys are brothers. You’re twins, for god’s sakes. I’m sure if you would just talk about it—”

“Cyn, that’s not gonna happen. The things he said…” Houston shook his head. “After all this time, it would take one hell of a fucking apology to get me to let bygones be bygones. And that’s fine. So holidays are a little awkward. Whatever. I’ve got you and Tay and mom. The MC and—” He stopped, realizing he’d been about to say he had Kenneth too, and the glint in his sister’s eyes let him know that she’d caught it.

Luckily, she decided not to push, especially since a moment later, their mom and Tay came in, Tay grimacing apologetically.

His mom looked between him and Cynthia, then just shook her head and headed for the fridge. “Who wants dessert?”

* * *

When Houston heard his front door open Thursday evening, he couldn’t help but grin as he called out, “Hey, sweet boy. Did you have a good day?”

He’d given Kenneth a key after their first weekend together, and he’d expected him to try and not take it or to give it back and say it was too soon. But instead, Kenneth had smiled that shy fucking smile that just did it for Houston in a way he couldn’t understand, simply taking the key and thanking him.

Kenneth appeared in the living room doorway looking tired but none the worse for wear from his shift at the hospital. “It was alright. I’m gonna take a quick shower, and then I’ll be back out, okay?”

Houston nodded. Kenneth always liked to take a shower after work to wash his day off and reset his brain. He said having the ritual helped him let go of any stress he brought home with him and be able to focus on their time together better. Sometimes Houston showered with him, but a lot of times he let him have the space, knowing how important it was to him.

Since their first weekend, they’d spent almost every night together at Houston’s. In fact, the one night they hadn’t last week, Houston had found the next day he was irritable and had even snapped at Rooster. He’d ended up picking Kenneth up from the hospital because he couldn’t stand waiting even ten extra minutes to see him. As soon as his front door had been closed behind them, he’d stripped his boy and rimmed him until he’d come untouched.

He had a baseball game on, the volume turned down low, as he scrolled mindlessly on his phone, waiting for Kenneth to come back. When he came across a pic from Viper’s Instagram that had her, CJ, and Knuckles in it, making goofy faces in front of the counter at Rebel Yell, he smiled. Viper’s tattoo shop was right next to his bar, and she was the club’s Sergeant-At-Arms, which meant they’d gotten pretty close over the years and she’d probably read him the riot act once he finally told her about Kenneth.

He was sure CJ had already spilled the beans to everyone—him or Ollie—but so far, no one had pressured him into bringing Kenneth around, and he was grateful.

Tay wasn’t in the picture, so he assumed they were the one to take it, since they’d been working in the shop as a piercer for years—it was how they’d met Cynthia. Houston had been in getting some ink done on one of his arms when Cyn had strolled in, going off about something one of the members was in trouble for, and it had been immediate sparks between the two of them.

He double tapped the photo and kept scrolling, but his mind had begun to wander. That afternoon, he’d had lunch with Knuckles, and he’d seemed to be doing better. It was like he’d lost the weight he’d been lugging around after he realized that he could talk to someone, though he was still a little too quiet and subdued. Houston had offered to take him to House of Bacchus so he could meet a Domme, but he’d declined, saying maybe he’d overreacted and he wasn’t a sub after all.

Houston wasn’t so sure. During their first conversation, he’d told Knuckles a little bit about Dominants and submissives and different aspects of power-exchange relationships. He’d gotten the feeling that while Knuckles had connected with some of the things he’d learned, he just wasn’t ready to admit to himself or others what he needed, but Houston wouldn’t push. Knuckles would have to come to the realization on his own that he couldn’t deny his true nature. And then Houston was going to be there for him, supporting him, just like he always had.

After that, he’d spent most of the afternoon catching up on paperwork at the bar. He’d felt like he’d been neglecting things since he and Kenneth had started seeing each other, but really, his managers stayed on top of stuff. They probably preferred when he wasn’t there, looking over their shoulders constantly.

He’d popped into the clubhouse, gotten teased by some of the guys about how little time he’d spent there lately, and then headed home so that he could eat dinner and have some ready for Kenneth when he got home.

It wasn’t too long before Kenneth thumped down the stairs and past the living room, the scent of Houston’s bodywash trailing after him as he headed into the kitchen and made himself a plate. He brought it out and sat next to Houston, cuddling against his side as he started to eat.

Houston smiled, wrapping an arm around him but keeping most of his focus on the game. It was still early in the season, but his team was already starting to show their shortcomings. “Come on. If we don’t get any depth in the damn bullpen, we’re never going to make it to October.”

Kenneth hummed, not really responding since baseball wasn’t his thing, and quietly finished his dinner.

It was nice, the quiet evenings they had fallen into. It was domestic in a way Houston hadn’t realized he’d been missing. After Kenneth finished eating and took his plate out into the kitchen, he came back, and there was the slightest shift in the air.

Houston couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. Maybe the subtle need in his boy’s eyes or the way he held his body. Whatever the case, it had Houston’s blood heating.

“You need something, boy?”

Kenneth bit his lip, then nodded. Houston thought he’d have to guess or maybe tease it out of him. He was so proud when Kenneth said softly, “Will you… tie my hands and let me suck you?”

His cock started to thicken in his sweats just at the words. Ever since that first night, it had become one of their favorite things. Kenneth loved to be restrained while Houston used his mouth, and Houston certainly loved it too. There was nothing sweeter in the whole world than his boy’s mouth.

Smiling, he nodded. “Go get the cuffs.”

Kenneth sent him a questioning look, having probably expected Houston to tie him with his rope, but he had another idea. Something he thought his boy might enjoy and be nice and relaxing for them both.

A moment later, Kenneth had returned from upstairs, the padded leather cuffs in one hand and his clothes already removed.

Fuck. Houston could look at his naked body every day, all day, and still get aroused by it. His smooth, golden-brown skin a testament to his Cuban American mother. His firm yet soft arms and legs, making him perfectly pliable, bendable. Houston had only tied him in a few different positions so far, but he knew he’d spend a lifetime coming up with new ways to decorate his boy and to test his limits.

“Come here.” He patted the couch next to him. It was a large sectional, and he was slouched in the corner where the two pieces met, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Kenneth climbed up on the other section, eagerly kneeling next to him and holding his hands out. Houston took the cuffs, wasting no time in wrapping and securing them around his boy’s wrists.

Cupping Kenneth’s cheek, he drew him down for a long, thorough kiss. He didn’t stop until Kenneth’s breaths had quickened and his pulse had sped up. Pressing two more soft kisses to his boy’s lips, he ran the back of his fingers down his cheek and throat, settling his palm on the back of his neck.

He used his other hand to tug his sweats down just enough that his half-hard cock was revealed, and then he gestured at the cushions. “Lay down on your side, facing me.”

Kenneth did as he was told without hesitation, easily moving as Houston adjusted him slightly so that his head rested on Houston’s lap. He grabbed the blanket from off the back of the couch and settled it over Kenneth.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, making sure his bare feet were covered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Open your mouth.” As soon as his lips parted, Houston fed him as much of his cock as he knew Kenneth could comfortably take. “Close. Good, now suckle.”

Kenneth stared up to him, a question in his eyes even as he did as he was told, sucking gently.

“That’s it. Nice and easy. Just relax.”

Kenneth whimpered, seeming to realize Houston’s intentions. He snuggled a little closer, getting a bit more comfortable but not trying to pick up the pace or to get him harder or make him come.

He took off Kenneth’s glasses and set them aside, then glided his fingers through his still-damp hair, petting him gently. The soft sucking and little kitten licks had him staying partially aroused, but it wasn’t enough to get him fully hard, so he was able to settle back and refocus on the game.

It didn’t take long for Kenneth to start to zone out, the gentle motion of his suckles pausing for longer and longer stretches before he’d start again. Houston just kept touching him, through his hair, down his neck, along his shoulders. He kept his fingers soft and soothing—even when his team left the bases loaded at the bottom of the eighth and he threw up his other hand in disbelief.

The warm heat of Kenneth’s mouth was enough that he couldn’t go fully soft even when his boy wasn’t sucking, but he didn’t mind, letting the mellow pleasure simmer through him as he scolded his team under his breath.

As Kenneth drifted off to sleep, Houston smiled down at him. He made quite the picture, his long, thick lashes fanning out against his cheeks and his delectable pink lips slack around Houston’s dick.

He was perfection, and he was all Houston’s.

13

“You know, when you invited us to use your bathroom for this, I imagined it would be bigger.”

Kenneth stared at Ollie in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

CJ laughed from where he was lounging on Kenneth’s bed in the other room. “You one hundred percent invited us over here, Ol. Kenneth, did you even know we were coming before I messaged you?”

“No!”

Ollie snickered, fiddling with his wax melter and laying out the rest of the materials. “You should have read my text more carefully.”

“Your text was ‘You down?’ and a GIF from 40-Year-Old Virgin with Steve Carrell getting his chest waxed,” Kenneth said, deadpan. “You’re right, I should have definitely figured out that was you inviting yourself to my apartment for a… waxing party.”

He wouldn’t have even been there if CJ hadn’t texted him an hour ago to make sure he was at home and not at Houston’s. He still couldn’t believe he’d somehow got talked into participating in the so-called party. Waxing anything sounded extremely painful, but his privates?

He couldn’t help but cringe just thinking about it, but somehow, Ollie had fluttered his eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip, and Kenneth had found himself agreeing. He had no idea how Six denied the guy anything.

“You should have, but it’s fine.” Ollie finished fidgeting with what looked like tongue depressors and spun around. “Are you excited? I remember my first time. I went to this place in the city where this sweet, old Eastern European woman held me down as she ripped the strips off my balls. Ah, memories.”

Kenneth backed out of the bathroom, hands raised in front of him. “Um, you know what, I think I’ll pass this time around.”

“You’re scaring him, Ollie,” CJ huffed, hopping off the bed and coming over to Kenneth’s side, wrapping an arm around him. “It’s going to be fine. It hurts, yeah, but it feels so good when it’s done.”

“What feels good?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

“Everything,” CJ and Ollie said at the same time.

“Especially,” CJ added, shivering, “when Tank rubs his beard between my cheeks right afterward and the skin is still super sensitive. Dear lord.”

Heat flooded Kenneth’s face even as he clenched his own cheeks, imagining the sensation. Houston had been letting his facial hair grow in the last week or so, saying he was tired of shaving every day, but Kenneth had a feeling it was more because of him. The weekend before he’d made the announcement, he’d gone without shaving for a couple of days, and Kenneth’s reaction to his stubbly face between his thighs had been… vocal.

“Between your cheeks?” he asked, realizing he didn’t actually know how much hair these two were expecting to rip out of Kenneth’s body.

“Balls to asshole,” Ollie chirped, appearing in the bathroom doorway grinning. “Then I keep the rest trimmed short.”

“But you can do as much or as little as you want,” CJ assured him, giving him a hip check, then going back to sit on the end of Kenneth’s bed.

“How do you wax yourself… back there?” He had a sneaking suspicion he knew the answer before Ollie even said anything.

“We do each other, silly goose. CJ can do me first so you can see what all the fuss is about. Then I’ll do you, and you can do him.”

Setting aside the fact that he’d have to be naked and get his… stuff handled by Ollie, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “But I don’t know what to do!”

They both chuckled, and he tried not to take offense to them laughing at him.

“Neither did I,” CJ said, shrugging. “But Ollie’s a good teacher.”

“The hard part is the ballsac,” Ollie offered with a wide smile. “You have to stretch the skin just right.”

“Oh god.”

“Don’t worry,” CJ said, already back on his phone and seeming completely unconcerned with the fact that Kenneth would soon be putting hot wax on delicate parts of his body. “We’ve got you.”

Ollie nodded. “Totally. Nothing brings friends closer together than waxing each other’s buttholes.”

As he stared at Ollie, eyes wide and feeling more than a little terrified, he couldn’t help but think he was probably right. The question was—did Kenneth really want to be that close of friends with anyone?

* * *

He couldn’t stop squirming.

The waxing had been as painful—if not more so—than he’d feared, but once Ollie had finished, Kenneth couldn’t deny the results. His skin was smooth and sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to show Houston, but first, he had to get through dinner.

He’d gotten back to Houston’s house, fully expecting to be able to strip and reveal his surprise, but Houston had been just finishing putting his boots on, saying he was going to take Kenneth out to eat. It was something they’d rarely done in the month they’d been seeing each other, both of them preferring to stay in, and since Houston was an awesome cook, it worked perfectly.

But his sweet, clueless Dom had decided Kenneth needed wining and dining on a random Saturday night, so he found himself in a busy restaurant, people all around them, and his tender bits getting upset at the hard chair he was sitting on.

“Are you okay?”

Of course Houston had noticed his fidgeting.

“Um.” He didn’t want to lie, but he also couldn’t tell him what was wrong either, since the chances of someone overhearing were more than zero, and that was too big of a risk for him. “I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

Houston’s fork paused halfway to his mouth, one eyebrow quirking up. “Should I be concerned? I can get the check now.”

They both still had half-full plates, so Kenneth shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Just… no dessert, okay?”

Kenneth’s favorite predatory grin spread across Houston’s face before he popped his bite of steak into his mouth. “Sweet boy, you’re the only dessert I need.”

“Houston,” he said, trying to keep his voice firm in warning but failing miserably, and he squirmed again but for a whole new reason.

“Besides,” Houston continued, “I got a gift for you earlier while you were hanging out with CJ and Ollie.”

“A gift?” The waxing party had been last-minute—at least for Kenneth, thanks to Ollie’s unhelpful text—so it wasn’t like Houston would have had time to really plan to get something. He hadn’t even realized Houston had left the house while he’d been gone.

“Mhm. One that will be as much fun for me as for you.”

Oh, he knew that tone.

Kenneth shivered and tried to eat a little faster without being obvious, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t fooling anyone. Luckily, Houston seemed to be just as impatient, not saying anything when Kenneth declared himself full while there was still food on his plate and simply waving down their server to ask for the check.

As soon as they were outside the restaurant, Houston grabbed his hand and pulled him around to the side of the building, where there was a small alley. There were some dumpsters farther down, and the scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, but it was quiet and dark without anyone else around.

Not that Kenneth would have even noticed if there was. His entire focus zeroed in on Houston as he crowded him against the rough exterior of the wall, pressing their bodies close together. He snagged Kenneth’s wrists and brought them up over his head, holding him securely as their hips brushed.

Leaning down, Houston growled at him, “Tell me what had you squirming so deliciously inside. Do you have a surprise for me, boy?”

Kenneth bit his lip. There was an almost dangerous edge to Houston’s voice, the way he was staring down at Kenneth. Something he only got sometimes, but Kenneth couldn’t deny he loved to see it. Houston was always so in control, so laid-back, that Kenneth enjoyed pushing him right to the edge on occasion. He’d first glimpsed it that day in his apartment when Brock had shown up and Houston had… taken him against the door.

So instead of answering like a good little sub, he tipped his head back until it rested against the wall behind him and smiled innocently. “A surprise? No, I don’t think so.”

Houston grunted, pressed his face into Kenneth’s neck, and nipped at the skin, causing him to moan. Though he tried to stifle it since they were out in the open.

“Are you lying to me? My sweet boy wouldn’t lie to me.”

Kenneth sucked in a breath. “Is keeping a secret a lie, sir?”

“If you’re keeping it from me, then yes.”

His big hands tightened on Kenneth’s wrists, and he had to bite his lip to keep a whimper inside. Good lord. This man barely had to touch him, barely had to say anything, and Kenneth was like putty in his hands.

“Ollie and CJ wanted me to join them for a waxing party,” he said softly, holding Houston’s gaze.

He only had to wait a second before the confusion cleared, and his Dom said, “Are you telling me that you waxed yourself today?”

“Well,” he hedged, having a feeling Houston wouldn’t like what he was going to say, “I didn’t do it myself. We did… each other… since they were hard-to-reach areas.”

A low, menacing noise left Houston, the sound scrambling Kenneth’s brain and melting his insides. “Are you telling me somebody else put their hands on you?”

Kenneth swallowed and licked his dry lips. “It was just Ollie and CJ. They do it to each other all the time.”

Hands squeezing on Kenneth’s wrists, Houston darted forward and bit at Kenneth’s throat, making him arch and groan at the delicious pain, before sucking on the skin until he knew there would be a bruise that wouldn’t be easy to hide at work on Monday. “No one touches you without my permission. Understood?”

His voice was soft, but the words hit Kenneth low in the gut, his cock thickening in his chinos. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Houston didn’t reply, just brushed his lips over the abused bit of skin on his throat, his short facial hair rasping against the delicate skin. “It’s alright. This… our relationship… it’s still new.”

It was, but… Houston was right. He’d thought it would be a fun surprise, but if he really wanted to be owned by him—and dear god did he ever—then that meant his body belonged to Houston. It wasn’t up to Kenneth who got to touch or see him. It was Houston’s decision.

“Are you mad?” he whispered. Possessive and a little rough? Spine-melting perfection. But actually upset with Kenneth for messing up? The idea cooled some of his excitement from Houston’s manhandling.

Houston ran his nose up the side of Kenneth’s face until he bumped the arm of his glasses. “No, I’m not mad. I don’t like the idea of anyone but me touching you, but I’m sure I’ll like the results.”

“Do I still get my gift then?” he asked, shifting his hips to try and get a little friction.

Houston chuckled and moved back just enough that their groins weren’t pressed together anymore and then planted a hard, deep kiss onto his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside as soon as Kenneth opened for him. “Yes, sweet boy, you still get your gift. Though now I think I’ll use it a little differently.”

Well, sounded ominous. Kenneth couldn’t deny that he was still very excited at the idea that Houston had gotten something to use on him though.

“Let’s go home so I can inspect the results of this… waxing party.”

Kenneth’s heart fluttered at the way Houston said home. He knew it wasn’t really his home too, but he’d gotten so comfortable there that it had started to feel that way. They’d fallen into an easy rhythm together almost immediately, and it made him want things he had no business wanting so soon.

And yet…

He followed behind Houston to the parking lot and dutifully donned his spare leather jacket and helmet before climbing onto his motorcycle behind him. Just like the trip to the restaurant, the vibration between his legs made his sensitive skin tingle. Combined with the knowledge that they were going home to play with whatever gift Houston had bought, and Kenneth was half-hard by the time Houston pulled into the driveway.

Houston cupped his face with both hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips. The difference to the kiss at the restaurant had Kenneth tingling in excitement. “Go inside and up to the room. Strip and kneel in the middle of the bed, facing the headboard.” One more kiss. “Then wait for me.”

Kenneth shivered. “Yes, sir.”

He hurried into the house, using his key to unlock the door and his chest warming just like it did every time he used it. He was upstairs and undressed in record time. His heart was racing once he was positioned on the bed just as Houston had instructed, so he tried to settle down and calm his mind and heart. It was hard, though, with how excited he was.

Especially because he didn’t know what to expect.

Over the last few weeks, they had focused a lot of their kinky exploration on introducing Kenneth to different types of restraints and seeing how much domination he really liked having in the relationship. So far, he hadn’t found a limit to what he liked. Everything they tried seemed to click, the steady increasing in dominance filling a void he hadn’t even realized was so big.

He was just getting his breathing under control when he heard the door open behind him, and he couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation.

“There he is. My good boy. So beautiful.”

Kenneth bit his lip as his shoulders went back a tiny bit. That was the other thing he really liked. He loved having Houston praise him, even for the tiniest thing, even for something he wouldn’t normally have thought needed praising. But any kind word from this man was like a pure shot of desire straight into his veins, rocketing him into the stratosphere.

“Now, before I show you my gift, why don’t you show me what you got up to this afternoon.”

Breath hitching, Kenneth said, “Yes, sir,” and leaned forward onto his forearms, ass in the air, then slowly slid his knees apart on the soft comforter, exposing himself.

Houston hummed, and even though Kenneth couldn’t hear him moving closer, he felt him, the air shifting around him, charged with lust. Goose bumps raced down his arms, and he did his best not to squirm.

He held his breath, waiting, knowing that Houston’s eyes were on him. Despite expecting it, he still startled just a little when he felt a warm finger sliding down his crack.

“You’re a little red. Does it hurt?”

“No, sir. Well…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it. It was irritated, but after the initial burst of pain when it happened, Ollie had given him something to put on it, and then it had cooled. So the skin was still tender, but it wasn’t angry. And it felt kind of good. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Ollie. “It’s more sensitive than painful.”

Houston made that soft humming noise again, stroking his finger from the top of Kenneth’s ass down over his hole and all the way to where his sac hung between his legs. “You’re so smooth now, sweet boy. Do you like it? Let’s see…”

And then Houston’s face was between his cheeks, and Kenneth couldn’t hold in his startled yelp at the harsh rasp of his short beard.

“Oh god.”

Houston huffed a laugh and deliberately rubbed his chin over the tender skin. Just when it was becoming too much, his wet, warm tongue followed the same path. Over and over, up and down.

It wasn’t enough. Not where Kenneth needed it, and it had him arching to try to get more.

Houston chuckled. “You want more, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir. Please, please.”

And then it was there. Houston’s tongue was pressing inside him.

He gripped at the sheets below him, groaning, as he thrust his ass back, trying to get him deeper. But Houston’s fingers tightened on his cheeks, holding him still, only giving him as much as he wanted to.

And Kenneth just had to take it.

The subtle reminder had his shoulders and chest melting into the mattress, barely able to keep his ass raised up. Soft, helpless noises fell from his mouth as Houston played with him for a long time, nibbling, kissing, and licking until Kenneth was losing his mind. Then Houston thrust his tongue back inside and retreated, over and over, fucking him shallowly until Kenneth thought he would come just from getting rimmed. Again.

And then Houston disappeared.

Kenneth whimpered, clenching on nothing, trying to get that full feeling back. Or maybe even more full. Full of something bigger. For all the playing and orgasms they’d had the last few weeks, they hadn’t done that. Neither of them had been in a rush, and they’d been more than satisfied with what they had been doing. But in that moment, it was all Kenneth could think about, getting Houston’s thick cock inside him and claiming that last little piece of him.

“Sir, please. Take me.” His eyes were squeezed shut, face pressed into one of the pillows as his whole body thrummed with arousal.

A rough hand slid into his hair, cranking his head around, and Houston was right there, lips at his ear. “Oh, I’m going to take you, boy. But first, I’m going to play with you and your pretty little ass some more.”

Oh, god. Kenneth didn’t know if he should be elated that he was getting what he wanted or nervous about how exactly Houston planned on playing with him.

“Stay just like this,” Houston growled, releasing his hair and sitting back.

Kenneth made an agreeable sort of noise. It wasn’t like he had any strength left in his muscles to move anyway.

He heard some rustling and then the water running in the bathroom for a while, and he kind of zoned out, not worrying about what would happen because it wasn’t his job to think about that. He let everything go and simply let himself simmer in gentle anticipation. Houston would take care of him.

When Houston came back into the room, Kenneth didn’t bother to open his eyes. He did take it as a good sign when Houston opened the side drawer where the lube was and then the telltale snick of the bottle being opened. When Houston climbed back up behind him, Kenneth took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Just stay nice and relaxed.”

“Yes, sir.”

One of Houston’s long, thick fingers pressed at his loosened hole, sinking in almost embarrassingly easy. Kenneth moaned and pushed back just a little, wanting to make sure he was taking that finger as deep as he could.

Houston palmed one of his ass cheeks, giving it a squeeze. “So eager. Do you want me to tell you what your gift is?”

“Only if you want to, sir,” he said softly. Honestly.

“Such pretty words.” Houston squeezed his ass again, thrusting his finger in and out a few times and then prodding at him with a second one. “Why is it up to me, boy?”

“Because—” Kenneth let out a soft howl when Houston pegged his gland and gave it a few quick rubs, his lazy arousal spiking like a shot of adrenaline.

“I didn’t catch that,” Houston said, and Kenneth could hear the smirk in his voice.

“It’s up to you,” Kenneth panted, “because my body belongs to you. I belong to you. Whatever you want to give me or show me or tell me is what I want too.”

“That’s right, sweet boy. And that means the next time someone wants to touch you here”—Houston rubbed at his newly waxed ballsac and perineum—“you ask me first.”

“Yes, sir,” Kenneth said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, and I forgive you. This is just a reminder.”

Kenneth thought about another reminder he could have. The permanent kind.

He’d seen CJ’s property tattoo when he’d waxed him earlier, and it had only made him yearn for one of his own even more. He wasn’t sure how long they had to be together before he could get one, but he hoped it wasn’t too much longer. He already knew he belonged to Houston and always would.

They were made for each other.

Everything Houston said and did was exactly what Kenneth needed. He took care of him in a way no one ever had and no one else ever would. They might not have said the words yet, but there was no doubt in his mind that he loved Houston, and he was pretty sure that he loved him too.

Pretty sure.

Houston pulled his fingers out, giving his rim one final stretch. “This is what I got us to play with,” he said, running a hand down Kenneth’s back to draw his attention.

He peered over his shoulder and stared at what was in Houston’s hand. It was… a hook. Stainless steel and maybe an inch in diameter, and on the end, instead of something sharp like there would be on a fishing hook, there was a large ball. On the end of the longer piece, there was a loop, and Houston had already tied one of his ropes to it.

“Is that…” He remembered the pictures Houston had shown him and shivering in excitement as he’d put it firmly on his Want To Try list, but now that he was face-to-face with the thing, it was more intimidating than he’d anticipated.

“An anal hook? Yes.” Houston fingered the ball on the end, eyes shining with intensity. “This is the medium size. You can remove it and change the tip to whatever size you want. But I knew my boy would want… something with a little girth to it.”

Kenneth’s cheeks flushed at the words, even as he nodded absently. That look? The one that let Kenneth know Houston was just as excited about trying something as he was had most of the nerves that had popped up seeping away. He’d do just about anything to please his Dom because he trusted him with his whole heart to take care of him and listen if he safeworded.

Licking his lips, Kenneth eyed the trailing rope. “When you said you’d be taking me, I thought you meant… with your cock.”

“Oh, sweet boy, that’s exactly what I meant.”

A gust of air left Kenneth’s lips. “After the hook?”

Houston nodded. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“My sweet boy.” He rubbed his thumb over Kenneth’s hole gently. “You give me everything, and I treasure you and your submission more than you could possibly know.”

“Houston…” The words arrowed into his heart and liquified his insides. He’d never felt so full of adoration for another person. “I treasure you too,” he whispered.

Houston smiled and leaned over him, laying the softest kiss on his mouth, then moved back. “Thank you. Now, just stay nice and relaxed, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” He turned his face back into the bed, letting his eyes fall closed.

He heard Houston squirt some lube, and then that cold, blunt tip was at his entrance, pressing in. The part that went inside him was probably only three or four inches, but it felt like more as Houston steadily pushed it in.

He yelped when the tip nudged at his gland, and Houston chuckled, rocking the hook in and out a few times to torment him, and then he sank it in as far as it would go. Kenneth sucked in a breath and clenched experimentally, groaning as the hard ball pushed into the walls of his channel.

Unlike other toys, there was no give to the steel, and while there was pressure where the ball was, it didn’t fill him up like the plug had the one time they’d used one.

No, this was… This was different. More intense in a way. It wasn’t designed to give him pleasure—it was to hook and hold him exactly as his Dom wished.

He shuddered and felt his walls rippling around the protruding tip, the long, straight part of the hook resting between his cheeks up to just above the small of his back.

Houston ran both hands over Kenneth’s ass and up his sides to his shoulders. “Okay, up you go,” he said, helping Kenneth sit up onto his knees.

Kenneth grimaced as the ball shifted inside him, and he clenched involuntarily to hold it in place.

Houston gave his waist a squeeze. “Okay?”

“Yes, sir.” The steel ball was a little uncomfortable when he squeezed it, but he wasn’t in pain or anything.

“Alright. Raise your arms.” Houston arranged his arms so that they were bent, his hands clasped behind his neck. “Still okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop himself from clenching and unclenching around that hard ball, confusing his nerve endings and making his cock begin to throb with need. God, he couldn’t decide whether he loved or hated the hook.

Houston wrapped the other end of the rope around his wrists and forearms so his arms were tied together and attached to the loop. He checked the tightness, made a small adjustment to something, then ran his fingers from Kenneth’s elbows down to his hips.

“There. Now isn’t that a gorgeous sight?”

Kenneth started to twist around automatically but froze when the movement of his arms pulled on the hook, which in turn tugged on the rim of his hole. Discomfort swirled with electricity from his ass to his balls and back, and he gave a soft cry, meeting Houston’s eyes.

One corner of his mouth turned up in a wolfish half grin, Houston said, “This, my sweet boy, is called predicament bondage.”

14

Houston stacked the pillows against his slatted headboard and then made himself comfortable so that he could watch his pretty little sub. Kenneth’s eyes were half-closed, and he was nibbling on his bottom lip as he tried to decide if he liked the sensation of moving with the hook inside him or not.

Hooks were intense, that was for sure. Houston had only played with them a couple of times in the past. They required a level of trust he usually didn’t have a chance to gain with a partner who he only did a scene or two with, but after seeing how curious his boy had been when Houston had shown him some pictures of hooks during one of their evenings curled up on the couch talking about different scenes and implements, he’d known he wouldn’t be able to resist trying one out sooner rather than later.

When CJ and Ollie had dragged Kenneth away for the afternoon, he’d thought about going and hanging out at the clubhouse for a while but then had gotten the idea to go shopping for a new toy for them. There was an adult toy store on the slightly seedier side of town, but the place itself was actually pretty nice, and Houston knew the guy who’d bought it not too long ago, and he was a good guy.

The outside of the place looked like any other shady adult store—which it had been under the older owner—but inside, there were a lot of options, for beginners all the way up to advanced BDSM players. Everything was good quality, the place was clean, and the people who worked there were knowledgeable.

His intent had just been to find something fun to surprise his boy with, but when he’d turned the corner and found the display of anal hooks, he’d known that was exactly what he was looking for.

Something to take their intimacy to the next level before he took his boy’s ass for the first time.

Just as Kenneth seemed to be settling into a comfortable headspace, Houston reached over and cupped his pretty, smooth balls, giving them a squeeze. Kenneth’s whole body jerked, and then he yelped, and then he jerked again.

Houston couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s your color, boy?”

“Green, sir. It’s just…”

“It’s intense, isn’t it?”

“Very. I can’t really move, or else it… tugs.”

Grinning, he gave Kenneth’s testicles another squeeze, watching as he tried harder to hold still, his slender neck straining as his chin tipped back. “That’s the point. That’s what makes it a predicament. Other forms of this kind of bondage can be a lot more extreme, but this gives you a taste to see if we like it.”

Kenneth whimpered, his eyes shut tight.

Houston smiled and released his hold on his sac and ran the back of his fingers down the inside of one of his thighs, then trailed his fingertips back up the other side, giving a featherlight touch to the bottom of his sac as he switched to the other side once more. Up and down, up and down.

It didn’t take long before Kenneth’s muscles in his arms and legs were trembling and his stomach quivering as his abs tensed and released over and over. His poor cock was a dark, angry red, the tip drenched in precome as it wept profusely.

His boy’s head might not know if he liked being caught on Houston’s hook or not, but his body was fully on board. Another time, he’d tie Kenneth while he was hooked so that he couldn’t move at all, leaving his sweet boy for as long as he wanted, exactly where he wanted him.

He pushed up to his knees, and Kenneth peeled his eyes open when the mattress jostled, his gaze glassy and unfocused, lips damp and swollen from how much he’d been nibbling on them.

Houston palmed his straining cock. “Would you like some relief, boy?”

“Yes, sir, please.” He whimpered, his hips giving a stuttering thrust before he froze and groaned.

He tightened his fist around the base of Kenneth’s dick. “No coming for you yet. Not until I’m inside you.”

Kenneth’s eyes flicked back open, face hopeful. “Really?”

“Really. That hole is mine, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. It is. I am. Anything you want. It’s yours. Please, please, please.”

He loved when his boy begged. When he was so far gone he couldn’t control the steady stream of need from falling from his lips. It was pure honesty.

He leaned forward and stole a hard, wet kiss, then gave one of his nipples a tweak. Once he was back behind his boy, it only took him a moment to loosen the rope and then untie it, carefully unwrapping and checking over Kenneth’s arms. He gave his shoulders and biceps a quick rub before grabbing the end of the hook.

“Brace yourself” was all the warning he gave, then carefully tugged the steel free.

Kenneth moaned loudly and collapsed into the pillows, glasses askew, as soon as the round tip popped out.

Houston couldn’t help but smile even as he slipped off the bed and stripped his clothes from his body. His poor boy was already so wrung out even without coming, and Houston couldn’t help but love it. He loved how wholly and completely Kenneth submitted to him, giving him everything he asked for and then some. He couldn’t wait to give him his other surprise.

Climbing back onto the bed, he grabbed the lube and quickly coated a couple of his fingers. He gently gripped one of Kenneth’s thighs and spread his legs apart, creating a space between them for himself.

Kenneth only moaned and flexed his hips lazily, driving his cock into the mattress.

“Easy, sweetheart. Hold still and wait for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Kenneth said, voice muffled in the pillow as he groped at his face.

Smiling softly, he reached up and helped him, carefully removing his glasses and stretching to set them on the bedside stand.

Kenneth sighed and nuzzled into the pillows. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.”

Oh so gently, he pressed his slick forefinger into Kenneth’s reddened hole, his rim a little puffy from the unforgiving steel of the hook. Kenneth clenched, but he held still as he’d been told.

Houston didn’t rush. This was his first time with his boy, and he intended to make it count. Hard and fast could be enjoyed later, but this time, he wanted sweet and slow. He wanted to worship Kenneth the way he deserved.

Leaning forward, he peppered kisses across his tanned shoulders, gently petting Kenneth’s inner walls. “Such a good boy. You don’t have to do anything. Just lie here, and let me get you ready.” He nipped at the skin where Kenneth’s neck met his shoulder, grinning when his hole clasped down on his finger. “Who takes care of you?”

Kenneth moaned. “You do.”

“That’s right. I take care of you, and I’m gonna keep doing so. Do you know why?”

Kenneth gave his head a slight shake.

Houston smiled, nuzzling in behind his ear. “Because I love my sweet, perfect boy. And it’s an honor to take care of him.”

The soft, almost broken sound that Kenneth let out tore at Houston’s heart. He knew his boy hadn’t always felt loved and cared for in his life, but never again. It was his job—his honor and privilege—to pamper and love him. Own him.

“I love you too,” Kenneth said, his words slightly slurred, but he still managed to turn his head and meet Houston’s eyes. “So much. I love that I belong to you.”

Holding his gaze, Houston pushed a second finger inside him, watching raptly as Kenneth’s face slackened and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Good because I’m never letting you go. You’re mine.”

“Yours,” Kenneth said shakily, bending one of his knees and pulling his leg up to open himself more to Houston. “All yours.”

Houston grunted, pulling his fingers free and slicking up his cock. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside his boy to take that last little piece of Kenneth that he so freely offered to him. He treasured every single bit of Kenneth: his body, his submission, his gentle soul. He’d show him with his words and his actions for the rest of his life how much he adored him.

He lined up the head of his cock and sank inside Kenneth’s tight heat. Slowly, carefully, but without hesitation. Because every part of Kenneth belonged to him, including this. One word kept ringing through his mind as he pushed in and in and in.

Mine.

Once he was seated fully inside, he lowered himself over Kenneth, pressing soft kisses against the side of his face and neck and shoulder, holding him tightly against him. They touched everywhere. And still, it didn’t feel like enough. Houston didn’t know if he could ever get close enough to his boy.

Tight together, he flexed his hips, retreating and pushing back in. Slow, steady thrusts while he whispered in Kenneth’s ear all the pretty words his boy soaked up like a sun-parched flower getting its first drink of water. He told him how perfectly they fit together. How Houston loved his scent and taste and smooth skin. How grateful he was to have found him and how much he adored how caring and gentle Kenneth was. How proud he was of the work that he did and the sacrifices he’d made for his family over the years.

All the words just spilled out of him until silent tears began to fall from Kenneth’s eyes. He kissed those away as Kenneth reached back and gripped him tightly, starting to move with him as he made the climb toward ecstasy.

Houston began moving faster, his own need overtaking his desire to prolong the moment. He snagged both of Kenneth’s arms and planted them on the bed, sliding his hands up to interlock their fingers and holding him in place. Holding him together as Kenneth spiraled apart beneath him, crying out Houston’s name as his body stiffened and his hole clenched so tightly Houston grunted. He thrust twice more before finally letting go and drenching Kenneth’s rippling channel with his come.

It took a few minutes for him to catch his breath, chest heaving as he panted against Kenneth’s damp neck. He hummed and gently nosed at him. “Okay, sweet boy?”

Kenneth made a happy sound, but his eyes didn’t open, nor did he move at all. When Houston eventually pulled his softening cock free, he still didn’t stir, not even when Houston cleaned them both up with a warm washcloth. His boy was dead to the world.

And he couldn’t exactly say he was mad about it, though he eyed his closet. His other surprise was still tucked in a gift bag in the back, but it could wait until morning after Kenneth had gotten his rest.

Houston went back downstairs to make sure the doors were locked and the lights turned off and got Kenneth’s glass of water. He rarely needed it, but he usually couldn’t sleep unless he had one next to him just in case. When you got back up to the bedroom, he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Kenneth still hadn’t moved. One of his legs was still bent and pulled up to the side, his hands where Houston had pressed them into the mattress and his hair disheveled.

This boy had been well and truly fucked, and he couldn’t be prouder.

It took a little work to get the covers out from underneath him without waking him, but he managed it and then climbed in on his side. He carefully pulled Kenneth into his arms. Kenneth sighed and nuzzled closer but still didn’t wake.

Absolute perfection.

* * *

The next morning, Houston thought he might be even more proud of himself than he had been the night before. The tray on the kitchen counter had a glass of orange juice, a cup of coffee—just how Kenneth liked it—a small bowl of chopped fruit, and a ham-and-cheese omelet. The crowning touch, if he didn’t mind saying so himself, was the small vase with the single tulip from the neighbor’s garden that he’d swiped just after waking.

Carefully, he lifted the tray and carried all of it up the stairs to his bedroom—well, their bedroom if he had anything to say about it. He wouldn’t demand Kenneth move in that day, but it would be soon. He was tired of spending time apart every time Kenneth decided he needed to go home to get more clothes or to give Houston space or some such nonsense, which was usually only about once a week, but that was still too often for his liking.

He pushed the door open and then paused just inside. He was surprised to find Kenneth already awake and sitting up against the headboard, phone pressed to his ear. It was early for a Sunday, so he wondered who it could be.

He smiled when his boy laughed and said, “I’m not at my apartment, but I can meet you there this afternoon. But I’m not doing your laundry this time. You can do it yourself, you slacker.”

When Kenneth saw him, his eyes lit up, and his smile somehow widened even more as he took in the sight of Houston carrying the breakfast tray. Or maybe it was the fact that Houston was only wearing loose sweats that did nothing to hide the half chub he’d been sporting since waking up pressed to Kenneth’s ass that morning, wanting nothing more than a second round.

“Kip, I’ve got to go. Just text me what time you’ll be ready, and I’ll meet you there, okay?” He listened for a second, eyes locked on Houston. “Okay, yes… I love you too. Goodbye.” Hanging up, he set aside his phone. “What’s all this?”

“It’s called breakfast,” Houston said, smirking and approaching the bed.

“Very funny. What’s the occasion then?”

“You’re the occasion, sweet boy. I don’t need any other reason to spoil you.”

Flushing, Kenneth ran his fingers through his hair. No doubt trying to put it in order, but Houston loved when it was messy, his natural waves getting away from him.

“I have a gift for you too.”

Kenneth’s eyebrows went up. “A gift like last night’s gift?”

He chuckled. “No, this one you’ll be able to wear in public.”

Kenneth sat up a little straighter, accepting the tray and setting it on his lap. “Do I get it now? Or do I have to eat breakfast first?”

“Start on breakfast, and I’ll get it.” He waited until Kenneth had actually taken a few bites and then slipped into his closet, grabbing the gift bag and taking a couple of deep breaths. The symbolism of what the gift meant not just to Houston but to all of the important people in his life made it so that he couldn’t completely shake off his nerves.

Stepping back into the bedroom, he nodded in approval at the fact that Kenneth had already eaten half the omelet and some of the fruit. He set the large black gift bag with silver tissue paper sticking out of the top on the bed next to him. Kenneth eyed the gift and then his tray before picking up his fork again.

He was such a good boy, always doing what he thought would please Houston most. He knew it would make Houston happy if he finished the meal that he’d brought him, even though he obviously wanted to tear into the gift.

As soon as the last sip of orange juice was in his mouth, Kenneth set his half-full coffee cup on the bedside table and then shoved the tray into Houston’s hands.

He laughed as he accepted it but sobered quickly as Kenneth carefully took out the tissue paper and peered inside the bag, freezing without taking out the gift. Houston’s nerves from before returned with a vengeance, and worry began to niggle at him.

Was he wrong? Would Kenneth not want to wear—

Before he could even finish the thought, Kenneth was pulling the leather vest out of the bag and holding it up so he could read the back, eyes wet. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Kenneth looked up at him through his damp lashes.

“More sure than I’ve ever been of anything,” he said, setting the tray aside.

Kenneth slipped out of the bed and shrugged into the vest, not seeming to care that he was stark naked underneath it, whereas a few weeks ago, his boy had struggled to strip in front of him. He ran into the bathroom, and Houston followed, feeling lighter than he ever had before.

He snorted when he found Kenneth trying to look at his back in the mirror, a huge grin on his face. When he spotted Houston in the doorway, he traced the small patch on the front near the bottom and raised a brow.

“Ollie insisted,” Houston said, shrugging and leaning one shoulder against the jamb. “He and CJ each have one that says the same thing. He also gave me strict instructions to tell you to let him know once you had your cut so he could send you more options to choose from.”

The patch was black with white lettering that read I don’t have my own bike, but I do have my own biker, which Houston had finally caved about adding since it reinforced the words on the back. Across Kenneth’s shoulders, the top rocker read Property Of, and at the small of his back was Houston’s club name. Property vests were as good as engagement rings to MCs—but he refrained from telling Kenneth that as he continued to admire himself in the mirror.

No need to scare him off just yet.

But the vests were a clear “Stay the fuck back” as well as a sign to make sure the person wearing it was protected—from other clubs, civilians, didn’t matter—to anyone even vaguely connected to club life.

“It’s perfect,” Kenneth finally said, swiping at his eyes and smiling.

“You’re perfect.”

Kenneth launched himself at Houston, wrapping his arms around his neck and planting a huge kiss on his mouth. Houston grunted but caught him, kissing him back with everything he had and trying to convey to Kenneth just how happy his boy made him. He hadn’t even realized how empty his life and home were until Kenneth had fallen into them and filled up all the achingly empty spaces.

“Thank you, sir,” he mumbled against Houston’s lips.

Houston hiked him up farther, his hands underneath his thighs, and turned to walk back into the bedroom. Having his boy pressed against him wearing nothing but his gift was more than he could be expected to take, his cock already rock hard just from the sweet taste of his mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re running around in my property vest—naked. What do you think I’m doing, boy?”

“Taking what’s yours?”

Houston grinned, heading for the bed. “Taking what’s mine.”

15

“There you are,” CJ said, rushing over to where Kenneth was just dismounting Houston’s bike and pulling off his helmet. His regular nose stud had been swapped out for a cute silver hoop, his hair freshly cut and styled in what Kenneth recognized as Ollie’s handiwork.

“We had to stop and get ice.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate where Houston was pulling it out from the saddlebags.

CJ waved his hand. “Either way, you’re here now.”

He threaded his arm around one of Kenneth’s and gave him a tug toward the side of the clubhouse. It was a beautiful Memorial Day weekend, and the whole club had just gone for a ride while Houston’s mom and Tomas’s sister had stayed behind to get things set up for the barbeque.

Kenneth had offered to stay too, but neither Cecilia nor Houston would hear of it. He was kind of glad because it had been so nice to spend an hour roaring down back roads behind Houston and taking in the fresh summer air.

He’d ridden with Houston before on his bike, of course, but never for that long or with the rest of the club around them. It had been exhilarating and more fun than he’d expected.

As they came around the building, he saw that things were in full swing. There were several tables lined up near the clubhouse that were full of food and beverages. At the end was a large smoker containing so much meat, he was pretty sure it was a whole hog. In the grass just beyond where the parking lot ended, there was a large, multicolored bounce house full of screaming and laughing children.

He’d learned over the last couple of months that probably half of the club members were family men, which for some reason had surprised him. But after he’d gotten to know the club and the members, it made sense, especially with the work that they did with the domestic violence shelter.

Right after he’d gotten his property vest, he’d been let in on the club’s secret extracurricular activities, and Tank’s visit to the hospital that night Kenneth had run into him had suddenly made more sense. As well as the occasional weird phone call Houston had gotten in the middle of the night where he’d had to leave but couldn’t tell Kenneth why, only that it was club business.

Once he’d accepted Houston’s property vest, he’d become an extended member of the club, like CJ and Ollie. Now there were no secrets between the two of them, for which he was grateful.

“Is there anyone you haven’t met?” CJ asked as they paused at the edge of the gathering.

Kenneth shrugged. “As far as the members go, I think I’ve met pretty much everyone, but not most of the wives and significant others unless they happened to be at the clubhouse too.”

The guys who were married or in serious relationships only came on the weekends or during club events he’d found. It was only the single guys who hung out during the week and partied either there or at Houston’s bar.

“Well, we’ll just go around, and if there’s someone you don’t know, just introduce yourself, and they’ll do the same, I’m sure.”

Kenneth laughed. “I have been in social situations before, you know.”

“I know.” CJ gave his arm a squeeze. “But I also know that you’re shy and it can be hard for you. So you can just stick with me, and if I need to do something, then find Ollie or Houston.”

Kenneth’s heart warmed. He never thought he would have this with CJ. Not after everything that had happened when they lived with Tim and the way things had ended. He knew he was lucky because CJ was the best kind of friend to have. Once he’d forgiven Kenneth, it was like nothing had happened between them, and they just moved forward. He always did his best to try and make sure to include Kenneth, and even now, he had appointed himself Kenneth’s babysitter, knowing it would be a challenging day for him.

He smiled at CJ, giving him a silent thanks. “Where is Ollie? I don’t see him.”

CJ rolled his eyes. “Well, since Six won’t let him ride in anything less than full-length pants, I’ll give you one guess where he is. His friend Penny is here somewhere though. You’ll like her.”

He snorted a laugh, not needing to guess at all where Ollie had disappeared to since the man seemed allergic to long pants. When he glanced around and didn’t see Six either, he had a feeling it would be a while before they saw either one.

“Should we see if they need help with anything?” he said instead, nodding at where Jill and Cecilia were bustling around the food tables, directing Cynthia, Tay, and Jill’s husband expertly.

CJ shook. “I already asked, and they told me they had it under control.”

Kenneth believed it—he was pretty sure Cecilia would have managed even on her own.

He’d gone to Sunday dinner the last couple of weeks, and while it had been terrifying to meet Houston’s mother, she had been nothing but kind and welcoming. She’d been so sweet to him that he’d cried the first time once they got back to Houston’s because she’d made him miss his own mother so much and the family he’d lost when she died.

They headed toward where a group was gathered around a keg, and Kenneth recognized Viper and Knuckles right away. Before they reached them though, he caught sight of Tomas walking toward the clubhouse’s parking lot from what appeared to be a construction site a few hundred feet away. There was a man walking next to him, frowning as he listened to whatever it was Tomas was saying.

“Who’s that?” he whispered to CJ, tugging him to a stop.

CJ followed his gaze, brows furrowing. “That’s Remi. He’s a mechanic most of the guys take their bikes to.”

He wasn’t wearing a cut, but Kenneth still asked, “I haven’t met him. Is he a member of the club?”

“No.” CJ shook his head. “Tomas has been trying to get him to agree to run the garage once it’s done being built.” He pointed at the construction site the two had obviously just come from, mounds of dirt and sand and a cement truck nearby. “It’ll be a while before it’s finished, but Tank told me that Remi keeps turning him down but didn’t know why.”

Before they reached the parking lot, Remi paused, holding a hand out to Tomas and nodding in the other direction from the gathering. Tomas scowled, but Remi just shook his head, and Tomas finally shook his hand. Kenneth and CJ watched as Remi headed away from the barbeque, shoulders straight and head high. He wasn’t as big as Houston or Tank, but the biceps peeking out from his short sleeves were huge.

“I’m guessing the answer is still no,” Kenneth said softly. CJ sighed and shrugged, then tugged him forward again, joining the circle of people they’d been heading for originally.

Kenneth watched as Tomas pulled out a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth, pacing away from the parking lot as he lit the end. He wondered why he was so insistent on hiring Remi when the guy wasn’t interested and made a mental note to ask Houston about the situation.

It was nice spending time with the club. Everyone was just hanging out, talking and relaxing. There were boards set up as an impromptu cornhole tournament got underway. Someone pulled out a large speaker, connecting their phone to it and starting to play music.

As the others chatted around him, Kenneth kept one eye on Houston, who checked in with his mom and gave over the ice and then found Tomas. The two of them had talked off to the side for a while.

Not long after Kenneth and CJ had found chairs and another group to visit with, Houston dragged a seat over so it was right next to Kenneth’s and sat, immediately striking up a conversation with the guy on his other side. Without looking, he reached over and slipped his hand over Kenneth’s knee and then dragged it up his thigh, only stopping when Kenneth slapped his own hand down on top just before he reached the junction between his legs.

Kenneth looked over and saw that he was grinning, but Houston never looked away from the guy he was talking to, who was telling him a story about something one of his kids had gotten up to.

Just after that, Cecilia declared the food was ready, and everyone sort of migrated over to fill their plates. Members with kids went and collected them, herding the children toward the food tables and demanding they eat before going back to playing in the bounce house.

A while later, Ollie and Six finally appeared, and Kenneth tried not to notice how puffy Ollie’s lips were or what appeared to be rug burns on his knees below his tiny plaid skirt. When he and CJ bumped into Ollie at the dessert table, CJ wasn’t as considerate.

“Good lord, you know there are children present, right?” CJ snarked, tugging on the back of Ollie’s skirt like he could magically make it longer. Kenneth was almost positive nothing was actually showing though.

“Oh, that explains it,” Ollie said, sidestepping him and grabbing a cupcake from the three-tiered display.

“Explains what?” Kenneth asked, biting into his own cupcake and telling himself he should know better by now than to fall into such an easy setup.

“It explains why CJ isn’t riding Tank’s dick in front of everyone right now.”

Kenneth choked on his bite and started to cough, but neither noticed.

“You brat!” CJ yelled, slapping at his arm.

Ollie opened his mouth, no doubt to double down on his outrageousness, when a deep voice spoke up behind them.

“Ollie.”

All three of them whirled around, looking guilty as sin, Kenneth was sure. Six gazed at them sternly before settling on Ollie, raising his hand and gesturing him closer with a finger.

Pasting on an innocent smile, Ollie skipped forward until he was right in front of Six. “Yes, Daddy?”

Six leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Something… wicked, based on the way Ollie gripped at Six’s cut and visibly shivered, whispering a breathy, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Kenneth darted a glance at CJ to gauge his reaction, and he was rolling his eyes, lips pressed together to stop from smiling. “Was he… serious?” he asked softly, not sure he trusted that Ollie wasn’t just blowing smoke.

CJ cast him a mischievous look and shrugged. “We’ve never fucked in front of the whole club, no.”

The whole club. Did that mean they’d had sex in front of certain members? Ollie had made a comment when Kenneth and CJ had been at breakfast about the two of them getting “railed” in the same room, but he’d honestly thought that had just been Ollie being Ollie. The man said outrageous things half the time just to get reactions, and since Six’s and Tank’s bedrooms were connected in the clubhouse with a bathroom, he’d reasoned that sort of made it one big room…

But maybe his friends were even kinkier than he’d first guessed—and that was coming from him.

A guy in a prospect vest murmured a soft “Excuse me” as he pushed a handcart loaded with a keg past them. He didn’t look familiar to Kenneth, so he nudged CJ, pretending not to notice the way Six’s hands had disappeared beneath Ollie’s skirt, and nodded at the guy.

“New prospect?”

“I guess. Tomas is super picky about who he lets patch in, so we’ll see if this one lasts.”

Something Houston had mentioned not that long ago came back to him. “If that’s the Tony guy Houston told me about, then I have a feeling he’ll make it.”

Ollie squeaked, then twirled around, back pressed to Six’s chest. The large man smirked down at his boy. “Wait, do you know tea I don’t?”

“All I know,” Kenneth said, hands up in surrender, “is that he’s a guy Tomas has known for a long time.”

He knew a bit more than that, but if it wasn’t public knowledge, he wasn’t going to share things out of turn.

“Why does he know that and I don’t?” Ollie asked, craning to look up at Six with a scowl. How he had the spine to frown at someone as scary-looking as Six was beyond Kenneth. The man had only ever been nice to him, but Kenneth had a feeling he’d always be a little terrified of him.

Six shrugged. “You might belong to the club Enforcer, but he bagged himself the VP.”

CJ cackled, and even Kenneth had to smile, his eyes finding Houston where he was kneeling and talking to a small boy nearby, showing him something in his hand. He had bagged the VP, hadn’t he?

“Oh, that’s Tank’s boss over there,” CJ said, touching Kenneth’s wrist to get his attention and indicating a huge, barrel-chested club member. “Have you met him?”

Kenneth nodded. He couldn’t recall the man’s club moniker, but his given name was Donovan. “A few weeks ago. Is his family here?” He thought he remembered hearing that the man had children, but they were older, maybe teens?

CJ shook his head. “No, they live with their mom most of the summer because it’s the busiest time for his job.”

That was right. He was the foreman of the construction crew Tank worked for. Tank and a few others specialized in demoing houses, but Donovan supervised them and everyone else at whatever site they were working on.

“If another one of these guys turns out to be a Daddy,” CJ said quietly, leaning in conspiratorially, “my money is on him. He has the vibe, you know?”

Kenneth didn’t really know, but he nodded, trusting CJ’s instincts. He’d been right about Houston, after all, and Kenneth would be forever grateful that he and Ollie had encouraged him to give Houston a chance. Reassuring him that it was very likely he’d be able to give Kenneth what he needed.

And he did. Every single day.

Once the sun began to set, a bonfire was lit to take off the edge of coolness dusk had brought with it. A lot of the members with kids headed out, the bounce house getting deflated.

When Kenneth came back from getting him and Houston refills, he ended up getting pulled into Houston’s lap with a squeak that made those sitting nearby chuckle. He was a little embarrassed but didn’t resist, just pushing his glasses back into place and secretly loving that he got to sink into Houston’s heat without judgment. Houston’s big palm landed on the back of his neck, holding his steady, and he sighed happily.

It was really nice, even if he did see Cynthia smirking at them from where she was on the other side of the fire. But she and Tay were looking pretty cozy themselves, so he just grinned back and snuggled closer into Houston.

It was the perfect kind of day.

* * *

By the time they got home, Kenneth should have been tired after the long day and so much socializing, but he was feeling a little wired as he put the container of potato salad Cecilia had pushed into his hands before they’d left into the refrigerator. He felt Houston come up behind him just as he closed the door, strong arms wrapping around him and holding him tightly.

“You seem a little fidgety,” he said in Kenneth’s ear as he nuzzled at his neck, his short beard rasping at the skin there. “How would you feel about doing a scene before we head to bed?”

Kenneth nodded, some of the tension already beginning to leak from his muscles. As amazing as the day had been, it had taken a lot out of him. He was getting more and more comfortable with the MC, but he still couldn’t completely relax around them. And being on all day left him edgy and tired all at once.

Usually when they did a scene, it consisted of Houston restraining him in some way. Sometimes completely, sometimes only partially so that he still had access to… certain parts of Kenneth’s body.

He would be open to either at that point. The sweet, lazy subspace he got when he was fully restrained, unable to move or do anything except be, was something he’d started to crave on hectic days, but he would never turn down the opportunity for more intimate kinds of scenes with his Dom.

Houston was kissing up the side of his neck, his fingers already undoing the button of Kenneth’s pants, when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He stopped, grunting in annoyance, but stepped back, putting a little space between them so Kenneth could dig out the device.

“See who it is, and if it’s not important, we’re turning off our damn phones.”

Kenneth laughed. There was no way Houston would ever actually turn off his phone. He might put it on silent, but being the VP of the club meant being available for emergencies or crises or the occasional late-night pep talk. But Kenneth was more than okay with that. The way Houston took care of his club was just one more facet of how Houston took care of those he loved.

Kenneth pulled out his phone, ready to send the call to voicemail, but he saw it was Kat. He shot Houston an apologetic look over his shoulder. “Oh shoot. I should actually answer this.”

He and Kip had had their video call with Kat earlier in the month, after he’d finished with his finals. Even Kendra had popped in on their side of the call to reassure them all—but mostly Kat—that she’d be okay by herself with their dad as long as they let her come visit and called frequently, which they had all promised to do. He still hadn’t held out high hopes that Kat would actually move back to Michigan. But maybe once Kendra finished high school she would.

“Hey, Kat,” he answered.

“Where are you?”

He met Houston’s eyes and frowned. “What do you mean where am I?”

“I mean,” she said slowly, like she was annoyed she had to explain herself, “I’m at your apartment, and only Kip is here, but he won’t tell me anything. He just keeps laughing and plying me with food.”

Kenneth’s stomach swooped. “You’re here. Like here here? For good?”

Kat sighed. “Yes. I mean… if the offer still stands and you’ll have m—”

Before she could even finish, he was yelling, “Yes, of course! We’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere. We will be right there,” and hung up.

Houston was smiling at him even as he headed back toward the door where they’d taken off their shoes. “She’s actually here to stay?”

“Yeah, I think we finally got through to her that she doesn’t have to be miserable.” He was so excited. He couldn’t wait to hug her and then scold her for driving across the country without letting them know she was on her way. As Houston pulled on his boots, Kenneth paused. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d be coming with me. I know today has been long and tiring. You can stay here and relax if you want.”

Houston laughed as he straightened, pulling Kenneth into his arms. He threaded his fingers into his hair, gripping tightly and pulling back his head so they were eye to eye. “Boy, you’re not going anywhere without me. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He felt like happiness was going to burst out of him. Of course he wasn’t going anywhere without Houston. He wasn’t even sure why he had suggested it.

When Houston started to shrug out of his vest, Kenneth grabbed the front of it and pulled it back into place. “Leave it on. Kip already knows, and I don’t want any secrets from Kat. This is who you are, and I’m proud of that.” He fingered the patch under Houston’s name. V. President. “I’m honored to have bagged you.”

Houston laughed. “Thank you?”

Kenneth giggled, burrowing in for a quick hug before releasing him. “Sorry, joke from earlier with Ollie. He was jealous I knew that prospect Tony was someone Tomas has known for ages and he didn’t.”

“And you know this because you… bagged me?”

“According to Six.”

Houston snorted and shook his head as he opened the front door. “Or because I was there the night Tomas met Tony’s mom.”

“I didn’t share that part,” Kenneth said, shrugging.

He automatically headed for the garage, where Houston’s Harley was parked, but Houston stopped him and pointed at Kenneth’s Prius, sitting in the driveway. “We should take your car.”

“Sure, okay.” It didn’t make much difference to him.

Houston smiled as he opened the passenger-side door for him. “Sweetheart, you haven’t stayed at your apartment since you took my vest, so Kip moved in not long afterward when the semester ended. I don’t think there’s enough space for your stuff, his stuff, and Kat, do you?”

Oh god, that was right. Kip was staying in his apartment for the summer. He spent so much time with Houston, he hadn’t thought it was a big deal. And as much as he’d wanted Kat to come home, he really hadn’t expected it.

The two of them were going to kill each other living together in his tiny apartment.

“So you think I should move my stuff out?” He bit his lip and glanced at Houston out of the corner of his eye as they buckled their seat belts. “We never actually talked about living together…”

Starting the car and backing out of the driveway, Houston smiled at him. “We didn’t need to. Though I was prepared to demand you stop going back to your place to—and I quote—give me space. I never wanted space between us, sweet boy.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted.

“I know.” Houston’s grin was arrogant, but that was okay. He probably had known all along and simply let Kenneth come to the realization they didn’t actually need to sleep apart once a week just because other people thought it was weird how fast they’d moved. “So we’ll get as much of yours and Kip’s stuff as we can tonight and bring it back home.”

“Kip’s stuff too?”

Houston shrugged as he put on his blinker. “Kip can stay with us for the summer. That way, Kat can take over your lease and have her own space.” He shot Kenneth a smirk. “We won’t be able to play in the living room as often, but it’s just temporary.”

Kenneth stared at his strong profile in the darkness, the occasional light outside giving him flashes of Houston’s face. “Are you sure?”

“I’m always sure when it comes to you, sweet boy. Now, I will miss seeing your cute little ass running around naked in the morning—”

Kenneth blushed furiously. He’d gotten a lot more comfortable with his body since he’d met Houston. And having his body available for Houston to touch anytime he wanted had become one of his favorite things.

“—but it’ll only be for a few months, and then he’ll be back at school again. He already has an apartment lined up with that friend of his, so we don’t have to worry about him sticking around for the school year.”

Kenneth laughed and rested his head back against his seat. That was true, though it scared him a little to think about how close of a glimpse Kip would get into not only his and Houston’s relationship but also the Devil’s Hands business. Heaven knew Ollie couldn’t keep his mouth shut for anything, but at the same time, it would be nice to have his brother so close for the whole summer.

Even if he did end up doing his laundry the entire time.

And he didn’t have to worry about Kip and Houston getting along—the two of them had hit it off the moment they’d met, talking about sports and other things that Kenneth had never cared about, but his brother had always been passionate.

When they reached his apartment complex, he couldn’t stop himself from running up the stairs and bursting into his apartment, half-afraid Kat wouldn’t really be there, but he found them both standing in the kitchen, eating sandwiches even though it was eleven o’clock at night.

She looked tired and rumpled, road weary. Her long, wavy dark hair was on the top of her head in a messy bun, and her face was makeup-free, the dark circles under her eyes on full display. But there was also a lightness to her eyes and smile when she saw him that he hadn’t seen in a long time. Too long.

“Hey, Kitty Kat,” he said softly, tears filling his eyes.

“Kenneth.” And then she was in his arms, laughing and crying and squeezing the daylights out of him. As she let him go, she seemed to take in not only his vest but Houston’s too, her eyebrows raised. “Is this the infamous Houston I’ve heard so much about?”

Kenneth had mentioned him, but he had a feeling Kip may have been sharing more than either of them had let on.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Houston held out a hand and smiled his most charming smile.

“Likewise.” Kat grinned back. “I appreciate how much you take care of Kenneth. Oh, and I’m assuming it’s you filling Kip’s refrigerator? There’s no way he’d buy actual vegetables, and Kenneth and I gave up long ago on that fight.”

Kenneth swung his head around to stare at Houston. “You’ve been buying groceries for him?”

Kip interjected, mouth still half-full of sandwich. “Just a couple of times while we were figuring out what I was going to do for the summer. And he taught me how to actually do laundry and—”

“Oh my god, Kip! Chew with your mouth closed,” Kat snapped at him, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to live with you again.”

“And,” Kip said, talking right over her after making a point of swallowing noisily, “he got me a job washing dishes at his bar.”

Kenneth was sure there were literal hearts in his eyes. “You did?”

Houston shrugged, settling on the couch and resting one arm along the back. In Kenneth’s cozy living room, he looked like pure trouble with his cut and short beard. “During the school year, he worked on campus, so we talked about it and agreed that since you were being so generous not making him pay rent while he stayed here, he could get a job somewhere he had an actual interest.”

“I told him I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do for a career, but I was interested in maybe running my own business,” Kip said, chest puffed out. “Houston said I could come work for him and learn about what it takes.”

Kenneth was going to give Houston the best blowjob ever as soon as they got back home.

The smirk Houston was giving him told him he was being too obvious about it too.

Whoops.

Clearing his throat, he turned to his siblings. “So. Kip, we thought you’d come stay with us for the summer, and that way, Kat can have this place to herself.”

Kat folded her hands under her chin and stuck out her bottom lip at Kip.

He sighed. “Fine.” Even as Kat cheered, Kip added, “You guys better not do any weird sex stuff where I can see or hear it.”

Kenneth wasn’t making any promises.

16

“Are you ready?”

Houston looked at each of the men in the room, waiting for them all to nod before turning toward Tomas’s office door. It was the second Saturday in June, and that meant it was time for the second demo in his and Zachary’s kink series at the clubhouse and his turn to play instructor.

The previous month, Zachary had started things off to a full house, almost every member coming to check out what the big fuss was about. He’d gone over BDSM basics and myths, getting people comfortable with the terminology and explaining the idea for the demonstrations, and extended an invitation to visit House of Bacchus.

In the end, Houston had felt like things had gone well. The members who’d been antsy to skip to the party seemed to understand where he and Zachary were coming from in holding off, and now everyone was on the same page.

Though, when Zachary had revealed the party wouldn’t be until January, there had been some groaning and disappointment. Even Houston had been initially, not realizing when he’d suggested the party to Tomas and then Zachary that it would take nearly a year to come to fruition.

But Zachary was not one to be rushed. Ever.

When Houston had first suggested having the kink party, he hadn’t anticipated how much work or what a time commitment it would be. But when he glanced back and caught his boy’s nervous but determined smile and Ollie’s excited face, he knew it was the right decision. He and Six—and even Tank in his own way—had found something beautiful and rare. Something Houston was grateful for every day. So he’d do whatever he could to help others find it too.

Even if that meant sharing something he’d kept private for years in a very public way.

If his boy could be brave, then so could he.

When Zachary had laid out his plan for holding eight demos—one a month from May through December—with the party as the culmination after the New Year, Houston had thought it was strange how much time he wanted to have between each session.

“Even bikers need time to practice” had been his exasperated response.

Which… okay, that was fair.

Between each demonstration, they’d have what Zachary called “office hours” where members could come to them for more hands-on instruction, refreshers on things covered previously, or simply ask more in-depth or follow-up questions. Considering how many questions Houston remembered having for Zachary when he’d first joined the House, he figured that was the man’s best idea so far.

Especially after he’d seen how much interest there really was. He’d known people would show up to Zachary’s demo out of sheer curiosity, but he’d been blown away by the number of members and their significant others who’d attended. Even guys who’d been married or with their old ladies for years had been there and seemed eager for more by the end.

As he led Kenneth, Six, and Ollie out of Tomas’s office and into the main area of the clubhouse, he was a little shocked to see that the crowd was probably the same size for his presentation—with maybe even more members’ partners in attendance.

Since bondage and rigging were Houston’s specialty, he and Zachary had decided that it would be the first hands-on demonstration, and they’d do another later in the series for folks to learn more advanced ties and positions.

All the seating in the clubhouse had been arranged in a semicircle, facing an open space left in front of one of the huge TVs. He led the others over to that area, directing Kenneth, Six, and Ollie to stand off to the side for the moment. He planted a quick kiss on Kenneth’s mouth before stepping into the middle of the space.

“Alright, settle down, you hooligans,” he called, drawing everyone’s attention up to him. He quickly scanned the crowd, noting a few faces like Viper, Marv, and Tomas. He couldn’t stop the stab of disappointment when he realized Knuckles wasn’t there again after skipping last month’s too. “We’re ready to get started. I won’t do a traditional introduction since you all already know me.”

There were some chuckles as folks settled into their seats, and Houston spotted Tank and CJ on one half of a couch right in front, CJ shooting Kenneth an encouraging thumbs-up. It pleased Houston to no end how close those two and Ollie had gotten. His sweet boy deserved such great friends—even if Ollie was sometimes a bad influence.

“I will let you know a bit about my experience though.” He took a deep breath to settle his nerves. He’d never had a problem addressing the club before, but it felt different when he was about to expose himself and his secret to all of them. He knew most had at least guessed that he had some experience in BDSM since he was the one who’d brought Zachary on to help, but he had a feeling they’d be surprised by just how much he really had. “For a decade, I’ve been a member of House of Bacchus, the kink club Zachary mentioned last month. That’s where I met him, and he became my mentor. I learned a lot of what I know about being a Dom from him and some of the other members of the House, and I really encourage anyone interested in getting a deeper look into the lifestyle to take him up on his offer to visit the House.”

There were some murmurs and glances being exchanged, but it was Rooster, the MC’s secretary, who called up to him, “I can’t believe you were holding out on us all these years.”

“Yeah,” another guy said, “you could have helped Vic and I spice up our sex life years ago.”

Vic, his wife, rolled her eyes and slapped at his shoulder. The two of them were in their fifties and had six kids—Houston was pretty sure their sex life was fine.

He held up a hand to quiet everyone down again, even as he chuckled himself. “Well, I’m sharing my knowledge now. Today, I’m going to go over some basics regarding restraints and other kinds of bondage, and then anyone who wants to try it out will have a chance at the end. Any questions before we get going?”

There were only head shakes and no raised hands or shouted questions, so he launched into his spiel.

“Restraints can obviously be used outside of BDSM relationships, but that’s the aspect I’m going to be focused on today.”

“Wait, I do have a question,” Marv said, brows furrowed. He was in short sleeves and his cut since it was the weekend, and his full tattoo sleeves were on display, curly hair artfully mussed. During the week, he looked completely different—like the accountant he was. “I had a girl ask me to handcuff her once, and after I got her off, she started to cry, so I unlocked them, and then she got mad that I let her free.”

Houston exchanged a knowing look with Zachary, who stood in the back with his arms crossed as he observed. “There wasn’t actually a question in there…”

Marv huffed. “My question is: what the hell, man?”

A few people chuckled, and even Houston smiled. “We can talk privately after the demo, but I will say, bondage—no matter the form—can make a sub feel incredibly vulnerable and helpless. Without more details, I can’t really give a guess at what happened, but she might not have realized how it would make her feel and was overwhelmed.”

“Then why’d she get mad that I unlocked them?”

“Because being overwhelmed can be amazing,” Ollie piped up, everyone turning to him. He only had eyes for Six though, his gaze soft with adoration as he stared up at the big Enforcer. Six cupped the side of his neck and tugged him closer, his short skirt fluttering around his thighs. “Especially when you trust the person who is making you feel that way. When they make you feel safe and vulnerable at the same time… that’s when the magic happens.”

Houston smiled, noting a few people in the crowd shifting in their seats and casting looks at their partners. “Thank you, Ollie. He’s exactly right. Bondage can be freeing for subs even as you hog-tie them. But, like Marv experienced, if you aren’t communicating openly and clearly with your partner, things can go from amazing to a disaster very easily.”

Marv nodded, looking pensive, but didn’t say anything else. Houston cast a look around the room to see if anyone else had a question or something they wanted to say, but everyone just stared back expectantly.

He gestured Six and Ollie forward, Ollie practically skipping in excitement. “Let’s go over restraints and basics of restraining your sub. Ollie’s wearing traditional wrist cuffs”—Ollie thrust his arms toward the audience, and a few chuckles at his enthusiasm only made him beam wider—“that can be used alone or with ankle ones as well.”

Houston went over pros and cons for connecting the cuffs in front of or behind a sub’s body, ways to attach them to beds or other furniture, and a few examples on how to get the most out of wrist and ankle restraints. As he spoke, Six repositioned Ollie’s body as needed, connecting and disconnecting his cuffs when necessary to demonstrate a position.

After he mentioned a few ways restraints could be used with other toys or implements to tease or play with a sub, Houston noticed one of the members lean over and whisper in his wife’s ear, her face flushing beautifully as her lips parted at whatever he said.

“Thanks, you two,” Houston said, waiting until they’d taken seats with the others before continuing. “Restraints like those are usually used during sex to make your sub feel helpless and exposed. As the Dom, you’re in complete control of what happens—when and where they are touched, how fast or slow they get to come, etcetera. Go in with a plan, though, because there’s nothing worse than being in the middle of fucking your sub and you realize you can’t change their position without untying and unclipping their cuffs to move them onto their stomach.”

He winked at his boy, who was still standing off to the side, patiently waiting for his turn to step forward. Kenneth’s cheeks turned an adorable pink immediately as the crowd laughed, and he ducked his head a little but not before Houston saw his shy smile. He knew they were both remembering when that exact thing had happened to them not three weeks before.

Stepping over to where a small table was set up with a few items on it, he picked up one of the lengths of rope. “If you find that you enjoy bondage, you can do more complicated variations of it, including Japanese bondage, which is sometimes referred to as Shibari. This type of bondage is about more than subduing your submissive though.” He ran the rope through his hands, noting the way his boy’s breath caught at the gesture but doing his best to stay focused on his presentation. “It’s about the sensual visual you can create by decorating your sub’s body with symmetrical lines and knots and the effect that the beautiful aesthetic can have on you and your sub.”

He nodded at Kenneth, who took a deep breath before stepping into the middle of the open space next to Houston. There was the briefest of pauses where Houston knew he was gathering his nerve, and then Kenneth untied the plain black robe he was wearing. In one smooth move, he parted the sides and shrugged out of it, letting the fabric pool on the ground at his feet.

Someone whistled in appreciation, but Houston focused on his boy, slipping behind him and running the palm of his free hand down Kenneth’s bare arm and giving his wrist a quick squeeze to ground him. Kenneth swayed just slightly, the instinct to lean back fighting with his need to stand tall and make his Dom proud. His sweet boy. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts and flip-flops—and Houston’s ropes—but he’d insisted on being the one to help Houston demonstrate a more intricate tie.

Houston leaned down and nuzzled behind Kenneth’s ear, easily giving him the words. “You look fucking gorgeous. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kenneth said, his shoulders straightening a little more.

“As you can see,” Houston said, dragging his face away from his boy’s smooth skin and raising his voice, “Japanese rope bondage is, in essence, an art.”

“Are you going to teach us to do that?” someone called from the back.

Kenneth giggled, his body shaking against him for a second, then pressed his lips together to try and stop.

“Now, now, don’t discourage them,” Houston murmured, running the pads of his fingers down the painstakingly spaced lines that went from just beneath Kenneth’s pecs to his hips in the modified corset Houston had done on him that morning. Louder, he said, “Not today. This is simply an example of what you can do with practice and dedication. Though the patience needed isn’t for everyone.”

As everyone laughed, Houston ducked back down and pressed a kiss to Kenneth’s pulse just above the rope he’d double looped behind his neck. “Thank you, sweet boy.”

Kenneth shot him a shy smile over his shoulder, then crouched and collected his robe, hustling over to the side once more and shrugging into it. He left it untied though, his golden eyes heated as he watched Houston give the rest of his presentation, going over types of rope, safety measures, and general tips on putting together a scene.

After he answered a few questions, he let them know what he’d go over in the more advanced demo session—including more advanced ties and predicament bondage—and reminded them that the following month’s session would be on impact play and Zachary would be leading again.

“Alright, I’m going to have Kenneth, Six, and Ollie come back up here and do some examples of some basic ties. Things that you can practice a few times, then start incorporating into your play and adapt to your needs easily. If you aren’t interested in that, you don’t have to stay.” He flashed a smile. “You won’t hurt my feelings. Once we go over them, anyone who wants to try with their partner or the dummy”—he pointed at the sewing mannequin he’d brought. It was one of the canvas ones used to make clothes and only included shoulders to hips—“will get a chance.”

A couple of guys came up and shook his hand, letting him know they were heading out. He totally understood—bondage and rigging wasn’t for everyone. He got Six and Ollie situated and then gestured his boy over with a finger, smiling when he dropped off his robe with CJ first, then hurried over to him.

“You doing okay?” He couldn’t help but check in, knowing how shy his boy could be. He appreciated the assistance, but he’d never force him to keep going if he was truly uncomfortable.

Kenneth beamed up at him. “It’s not as intimidating as I thought. I only feel your eyes on me even when everyone is looking.”

Houston’s pulse quickened as his dick twitched in his jeans. Before he realized what he was doing, his arms were wrapped around his boy, and he was pulling him tight against him, planting a hard, possessive kiss on his mouth. He ignored the wolf whistles and catcalls, taking a nice thorough taste of him before finally letting up.

Panting lightly, Kenneth stared up at him with reddened lips, not bothered at all with getting the shit kissed out of him in front of everyone and simply waiting to hear what Houston wanted from him, and that hunger in Houston’s belly that never really went away when it came to this man intensified, growing and burning through his veins.

“And here I thought you were doing so well with acting the professional,” Zachary’s dry voice broke into his thoughts, stopping his plans of dragging Kenneth upstairs to an empty room in its tracks.

“You can take the biker off of the bike,” Ollie said, laughing, “but you can’t take the possessive, alpha male out of the biker.”

“Good lord.” Zachary wandered off, muttering about how he couldn’t believe he’d let himself get talked into helping a bunch of uncouth smart-mouths.

Houston hadn’t looked away from Kenneth’s sweet face through the whole exchange, a building need distracting him. Rubbing his thumb along the edge of Kenneth’s jaw, he said softly, “After this, how would you feel about going and getting a tattoo?”

He’d never seen his boy beam so brightly before.

17

“Oh god. Harder, sir. Please, please, please, please! Harder. Oh god. I need it. I need it so bad.”

Kenneth whimpered and begged, his whole body feeling like it was on fire in the best possible way. How this man could completely take him apart and put him back together again every single time he touched Kenneth was beyond him.

Squeezing his eyes shut on a loud groan, Kenneth tried to flex his arms and legs, loving the feeling of the rope biting into his skin and holding him immobile.

Exposed.

At his Dom’s mercy.

His arms were above his head, wrapped in an intricate design that bound his arms at the wrists and went all the way to his waist. The end of the rope had been looped around the sturdy slats of the headboard and secured, holding him firmly in place.

But what had him splayed open for Houston in the most delicious way was how Houston had tied his ankles to his thighs and his knees to the rope around his waist. He wasn’t going anywhere.

And he loved every second of it.

The rope was like an extension of Houston, holding him steady and unfaltering.

Secured.

Loved.

His body rippled with electricity, sending bolts to his aching cock. Houston hadn’t even touched him there yet, but it still felt like he was ready to go off any second. All he needed was just a little more. Houston’s cock was so big inside him, so deep. But Kenneth needed it harder, a little rougher, and he knew it would put him over the edge.

But his Dom just smiled down at him, continuing to fuck him at the pace that he wanted. Not a millisecond faster. Kenneth watched, half out of his mind, as the black ink on Houston’s dark skin rippled and danced with his flexing muscles.

He slipped his hands onto the back of Kenneth’s thighs, squeezing the taut muscles there. “Fuck, I love when you beg. I love knowing that I’m the only one who’s ever given you this. Who’s ever driven you out of your mind. And I’m the only one that ever will, isn’t that right, sweet boy? Aren’t you all mine?”

“Yes,” he cried, his neck straining as he threw his head back. “I’m yours.”

“All of you, right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Even this tight, needy hole?”

Kenneth whimpered and clenched down on Houston’s cock at the words, feeling them low in his stomach. He was needy—dear god was he ever. He needed Houston more than he needed his next breath, and he didn’t care if it wasn’t… healthy or whatever.

When Houston made him feel like this? Made him fly free every day?

Screw healthy.

Houston gave a couple of quick, hard thrusts that had him crying out, but then he held still inside Kenneth’s pulsing channel. “Kenneth, does this tight, needy hole belong to me?”

“Yes, sir. Please, please don’t stop. It’s yours.” His voice was thin with desperation.

Houston’s smile turned predatory, even as he picked up the pace of his hips, finally giving Kenneth those short, hard thrusts he craved. The ones that made him feel like Houston was embedding himself in Kenneth’s bones.

He’d definitely be feeling him for the rest of the day. It was so delicious, knowing that no one would know how thoroughly his Dom had wrecked him just before they’d left the house. For the rest of the day, he’d feel the echo of Houston’s cock inside him, a reminder of how much he was loved.

He was begging for release, begging Houston to touch him, even as he spiraled higher and higher without it, but when Houston finally grabbed his dick and gave it a couple of tight strokes, that was all he needed. He was coming before he could even take a breath, his whole body straining against the ropes holding him tight as he screamed his release.

The built-up tension in his body exploded, sending him floating on a river of bliss and pure contentment. Just as he was starting to come down, he felt Houston stiffen above him, his cock thickening just that little bit more and then his hot, wet seed filling him.

He’d never get tired of the feeling.

Kenneth lay on the bed, eyes closed and chest heaving, still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey as Houston pulled out and then fumbled for something in the sheets. Groaning, he slit his eyes open as he felt the blunt tip of something hard pushing inside him.

“Oh god,” he moaned. He’d forgotten all about the plug and Houston’s promise to fill him up and keep him full for the rest of the day.

Shivering, he relaxed on the bed as best he could and enjoyed the sweet words Houston peppered him with as he carefully untied him and checked to make sure his hips, knees, and arms were okay. He was always okay with Houston.

He was still feeling pretty boneless when Houston leaned down and began licking low on Kenneth’s abs. Moaning, he undulated, rubbing his fingers over the short hair on the back of Houston’s head.

“You’re obsessed.”

His property tattoo had ended up between his hips, just above his groin, since Houston wouldn’t hear of letting anyone near his ass. Kenneth was grateful, though, because it meant he could see it and touch it whenever he wanted, reminding himself he belonged to Houston.

Houston ran his tongue over where Kenneth knew his name was inked into his skin. Just above where Ollie badgered him into keeping things… nice and tidy. Just above the thick letters of Houston was a piece of tied rope, the ends trailing off to the sides. Arched above, in the same fancy script as Ollie’s and CJ’s tattoos, were the words Property of.

It made Kenneth’s heart beat just a little faster every time he saw it.

“I can’t help that I find it the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Houston muttered against his skin.

“It’s been two months.” He stretched and reminded himself he couldn’t actually take a nap at that moment. Not when they needed to be out the door in less than an hour. Turning his head, he straightened his glasses and checked the clock on the wall, groaning when he saw the time. They actually only had about twenty minutes, or they’d be late.

“It doesn’t matter.” Houston grunted, nuzzling into Kenneth’s stomach and relaxing on top of him. “Seeing proof of my ownership on your skin as I fuck you will never not be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Kenneth opened his mouth to tell him how much he loved him when a fist banged on their bedroom door.

“Are you two about done? We need to get going.”

Houston growled even as he pushed up and crawled forward, cupping Kenneth’s cheek and planting a kiss on his lips, and then he climbed off the bed. “Remind me again when your brother goes back to school?”

Laughing, Kenneth pushed up onto his elbows, wondering if his legs would support him yet if he tried to stand. “Just a few more weeks.”

Houston huffed, but his lips were tilted up in the corners. As much as he liked to complain about Kip—and Kenneth’s brother gave him plenty of opportunities, considering he was the opposite of a perfect houseguest—he wasn’t fooling Kenneth. The two of them hollered at the TV during baseball games together, cooked up a storm in the kitchen, and spent hours at the bar going over all the finer points of running a business.

They were two peas in a pod, and it was kind of adorable.

There wasn’t time for them to shower, so Kenneth rolled off their bed and followed Houston into the bathroom to do a little cleanup, his movements a little slow and awkward from the plug in his ass. Houston smirked at him as Kenneth bit his lip to hold back a moan when his ass hit the edge of the mattress so he could put his socks on.

“You think this is funny? Your family better not notice my squirming,” he said, taking a deep breath before pushing to his feet.

“It’ll be the perfect distraction for both of us today.” Houston smacked his ass on the way past, and Kenneth had no hope in holding in his groan, the toy jostling inside him and hitting his still-sensitive gland.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled, catching his breath and stomping through their bedroom door, shooting a grimace at Houston as he walked by him.

After closing the door and locking it—a habit they’d gotten into after Kip went in to find something while they were both at work and found… more than he’d bargained for—Houston stopped Kenneth before he could start down the stairs, wrapping his arms around him. One hand landed low on Kenneth’s stomach, right over where his tattoo was beneath his polo.

“I am lucky, sweet boy.” Houston breathed the words against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He flexed his fingers into Kenneth’s skin, his other hand sliding up to cup his throat and tip his head back. “The day I convinced you to be mine was the best fucking day of my life. Even if your brother can’t wash a dish or hang a towel to save his life.”

He choked on a laugh until Houston’s fingers tightened just a little on his neck and it turned to a whimper. “Houston.” God, how could his cock be getting interested again after the massive orgasm he’d just had?

“Do you remember?” Houston nipped at his earlobe. “When I chased off that piece of shit who thought he could have what was mine and I sucked you off against your apartment door?”

Kenneth grabbed at the back of Houston’s head, clenching on the plug at the words and the reminder of that day. “That wasn’t when you convinced me to be yours.”

“No?”

“No. It was the night before. When I was breaking into a million pieces and you gently held me together, giving me everything I needed and taking nothing for yourself.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I may have been scared at how you made me feel for a little while, but I was yours. Completely. And you’ve taken such good care of me every single day since then.” He laid a hand over the one on his tattoo, pressing Houston’s hand more firmly against it. “I’m the lucky one.”

“I love you.” Houston’s voice was a little raspy, his touch a little harder, a little more possessive, as he pressed a kiss to Kenneth’s pulse.

“And I love you.”

* * *

It was probably a good thing they’d had Kip to holler up at them, reminding them they’d be late if they didn’t haul ass, or he and Houston may have just stumbled back into their bedroom and not surfaced for the rest of the day.

But this was one Sunday dinner they couldn’t miss.

Houston’s mom’s birthday was in a few days, but the family was celebrating it at their normal Sunday gathering, despite Houston and Cynthia both trying to convince Cecilia to let them all take her out. She’d declined—repeatedly—and said the only thing she wanted was the whole family together at the house, enjoying a meal together.

Houston had been a little miffed at the whole family part, but Kenneth had calmed him down.

Even though he and Houston had been together for months, he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet the infamous David, Houston’s twin and certified jackass. He’d heard all about the man and the things he’d said when he’d walked in on Houston with a bound sub and couldn’t say he was sorry he and Houston had “missed” Sunday dinner every weekend David had been in town to attend.

But there would be no more avoiding him.

They picked up Kat on their way to Houston’s mom’s, she and Kip both being unusually quiet in the back seat. Cecilia had taken to Kenneth’s siblings just as easily as she had him and insisted they come to Sunday dinner as often as possible. Kat and Kip didn’t know what exactly had happened between Houston and David, only that they didn’t have a good relationship and barely spoke.

When they arrived, only Cynthia and Tay were there, Cyn doing her best to shoo Cecilia out of the kitchen. “Mom, you’re not cooking your own birthday dinner. Go sit down. Please.”

Kenneth pressed his lips together to suppress a smile at Cynthia’s exasperation. He shot Kat a look though, and she jumped forward, wrapping an arm around Cecilia’s and leading her toward the living room.

“Cecilia, are you getting into trouble?”

They both laughed as they disappeared, but Cyn gave him a grateful look.

“Need a hand?” he asked, taking the cake Kip was holding and joining her in the kitchen. Tay was stirring something in a large bowl at the counter and shot him a smile over their shoulder. “Hey, Tay. Is that your potato salad?”

They smiled. “It is.”

“The day isn’t lost then,” Houston muttered from behind him.

Cynthia took charge, ordering Houston and Kip out of the kitchen to set the dining room table and having Kenneth take over chopping fruit. They all worked in relative silence for maybe fifteen minutes, but there was a weird tension in the air, all of them avoiding the giant elephant in the room.

Just as Kenneth was going to break and say something, the doorbell rang.

Which… was weird. He and Houston never rang the bell, just knocked as they walked in and announced themselves.

“That’s David,” Cynthia said quietly, scooting closer to him. “A couple years ago, he started insisting on ringing the bell and not walking in unannounced.”

There was a weight to her words that took him a second to parse out even as he heard Cecilia hurrying toward the front door and her happy voice exclaim David’s name. Then it hit him. David walked in on Houston and a sub in Houston’s own house—ever since then, he didn’t enter any home without waiting to be let in.

It seemed strange that he did it even at his mom’s, but he didn’t have long to think about it as they finished all the food and started carrying it out to set on the dining room table. Houston was already sitting in his normal seat, glass of iced tea in hand as he listened to something Kip was saying to him. To anyone else, he probably would have looked completely relaxed, but Kenneth knew him better than anyone and could tell how on edge he was.

Kenneth sidled toward him just as Cecilia came in, her smile a little tense as she gazed up at the man whose arm was around her shoulders.

God. Knowing David was Houston’s twin and seeing it were apparently two very different things. It was so strange seeing the face of the man he loved on someone else, to hear his deep voice as he wished his mom a happy birthday.

“This is so weird,” Kat whispered in his ear, then slipped into a chair next to Kip.

He couldn’t agree more.

David glanced up and spotted him and his siblings, his eyes widening in surprise. “Um. Hello.”

There was an awkward pause where everyone seemed to think someone else should make the introductions. Just as Cecilia started twisting her hands and looking at Houston, he heard him sigh and set his glass down.

Clearing his throat, Kenneth set a hand on Houston’s shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze, then walked across the room, arm outstretched. “Hi. I’m Houston’s partner, Kenneth. That’s my sister Kat and brother, Kip.” There was the briefest of pauses before he forced himself to say, “It’s nice to meet you, David.”

David took his hand and shook it, glancing at his brother over Kenneth’s shoulder. “You too.” He nodded at Kenneth’s siblings. “Kat. Kip. A pleasure.”

“Kenneth and his siblings are like family,” Cynthia added from where she sat next to Tay at the table, face and voice hard. “They’re great.”

“I’m sure they are.” It was so strange hearing Houston’s voice coming out so… emotionless.

Somehow, Kenneth ended up next to David at the table, putting him between the estranged twins. Conversation was a bit stilted, but he was proud of how Houston handled things. He kept up a steady commentary with his mom and sister, including Kenneth and his siblings easily. If Kenneth hadn’t been sitting next to the awkwardly silent David, he might have even forgotten he was there.

Maybe.

After what felt like five hours, they finally cleared dinner, Cyn and Tay taking dirty dishes into the kitchen and Kip and Kat offering to get the gifts from the living room so Cecilia could open them while they ate cake.

Kenneth excused himself, giving Houston a reassuring smile when he started to get up too. He just needed to go to the bathroom—no need for an escort. After he finished, he splashed some water on his face and took a couple of deep breaths to settle his nerves. Acting like everything was fine while sitting right next to David was grating on him, and he couldn’t wait to get home and cuddle with Houston on the couch.

A soft knock startled him, but he smiled when he found Houston on the other side of the door, then frowned as he pushed his way into the small half-bath. “What are you doing?”

Grinning, Houston palmed Kenneth’s ass and jerked him against Houston’s chest. The unexpected touch had the plug inside him moving a little, and Kenneth stared up with wide eyes. He’d been so distracted by the tension in the dining room he’d forgotten about the toy, his body having gotten used to it.

“Getting a moment of peace with my sweet boy,” Houston said, bringing one of Kenneth’s hands up to his mouth and kissing the inside of his wrist, then flipping his hand and nuzzling at the faint red marks barely visible anymore. The indents from the rope had disappeared before they’d even arrived at his mom’s. “David’s been staring at your arms all evening.”

Kenneth jerked his head up to stare at Houston. “Really?”

Houston nodded. “I was ready to say something if he made a comment, but he was even quieter than normal.”

“I doubt he’d say something in front of your mom,” Kenneth said, bringing his other hand up to rest it on Houston’s chest, eyeing both of his arms. Next to each other, he could see what was left of the faint pattern.

“Probably not.” Houston sighed, glancing at the door. “I can’t wait to go home.”

“Me either. Let’s pop popcorn and watch some more episodes of that trucker show you like.”

Houston laughed. “You hate that show.”

“I hate all reality shows.” He shrugged, then beamed at Houston. “But you like that one, so I can suffer through it.”

Houston’s face softened, and he cupped Kenneth’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. The show isn’t that—”

“Not for that.” He shook his head, rubbing his thumb back and forth against Kenneth’s skin and making him lean into the touch. He’d never get enough of Houston touching him even if he lived to be a hundred and twenty. “Thank you for… being here. For getting me through this awkward dinner and for loving me just as I am.”

Kenneth’s heart flipped in his chest. “Silly man. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Besides… after everything you’ve done for my family, the least I can do is play referee with yours sometimes.”

Houston’s fingers tensed as his dark eyes searched Kenneth’s. “Sweetheart… Kip and Kat—and Kendra too, really—they’re not just your family. They’re mine too. I don’t help them for you; I help them because that’s what you do for family.”

“I guess I didn’t think about it like that,” Kenneth whispered, his pulse racing. “That you and me… we’re a family. The two of us.”

Grunting, Houston dipped his head down and kissed Kenneth, hard. His tongue swept inside, taking ownership and making Kenneth’s knees weak. Barely separating them, he whispered against Kenneth’s lips, “Of course we are. If you want to exchange rings, we can, but my name inked in your skin is all I need.”

“Houston, you can’t propose to me in a bathroom.”

Houston snorted. “Fair enough. Do you want me to some other time? We never talked about marriage, but if that’s something you want—”

“I do. If… If you do too.”

“You’re already mine, but we can do the whole vows and party thing if you want. I’m not opposed to making you mine in all the legally binding ways too.” Houston gave him another peck on the lips, his smile turning wry. “And in the future, when you’re ready to grow our family, I’ll be on board for that too.”

Kenneth sucked in a breath, his nails digging into Houston’s chest. “Do you really mean that?”

Houston’s smile was so tender it brought tears to Kenneth’s eyes. “Sweet boy, I don’t think you’re a pediatric ICU nurse because you like being there for parents on the worst day of their lives. I think you love children and are such a natural caretaker that you couldn’t possibly do another job. So yeah, if you want to have kids one day, I’m all in. Baseball practices, homework, family vacations. I want it all with you.”

Heart racing, Kenneth couldn’t stop himself from throwing his arms around Houston’s neck and pulling him down for another heated kiss. Houston groaned deep in his chest, crowding Kenneth back until he hit the door with a loud bang. For once, he didn’t care if anyone heard.

Let them know how damn hot he was for this man.

He really was the lucky one, having found Houston in the most unexpected of ways, and yet they were so perfect for one another.

One day he had been just barely getting by, all alone without any real friends and only his siblings to care for, but aching for something more. Something he didn’t even fully understand. And then he’d gotten the strangest call from one of his old roommates asking if he could come stitch up a friend of his.

Kenneth had been so tempted to say no. It had sounded so shady, and he and CJ had never been that close. But for some reason—a reason he’d never completely understand but was beyond grateful for—he’d said yes.

In that single moment and with that one decision, he’d changed the trajectory of his life, flinging himself off course and directly into the path of the best man he had ever known or ever would. A man who took care of every single person around him.

Who had somehow seen Kenneth and all the hidden parts of him that no one had ever noticed before.

Who gave his whole heart and soul to Kenneth without hesitation or question.

Who wrapped Kenneth tight in his ropes and set him free.

Who owned every inch of Kenneth.

That man had somehow known Kenneth’s secret desire too, the one he’d never shared with anyone, too afraid if he let himself hope, he’d be crushed with disappointment when he didn’t get it.

But… he could have it.

Houston wanted a family too. Wanted one with Kenneth.

Tears streaming down his face, he leaned back, thumping his head against the door and looking up into Houston’s heated eyes. “I love you,” he said, voice hoarse with a desperate need to make sure Houston understood how much he meant to him. He wished he had more words to give, something to express the well of emotions inside him, but nothing else would come.

The soft, knowing smile Houston gave him as he cupped his cheeks and pressed one more kiss to his lips made him think that Houston understood all the unspoken words. Could read them in Kenneth’s eyes. Could see them printed on Kenneth’s soul.

Houston always knew because he understood Kenneth better than anyone ever had. Inside and out, there wasn’t an inch of him that Houston didn’t see and know and cherish.

So. Damn. Lucky.

* * *

The Devil’s Hands MC will return soon!

The next book will feature the overworked and curious club President and two bffs who are returning to Ridgewood.

Make sure you’re subscribed to my newsletter so you don’t miss future Leather & Chrome books!

On your Kindle? Scan the QR code with the camera on your phone to jump to my website to sign up!

THANK YOU

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you for reading Houston and Kenneth’s story. I absolutely adored writing these two and hope you enjoyed reading them.

If you did, please consider leaving a review to help other readers find Yearning.

RECKLESS

LEATHER & CHROME 1

Ride hard. Love harder. Live recklessly.

Tank is done with his old life. All it's brought him is trouble and misery in the form of a four-year prison term. Though he did find one good thing while behind bars: Charles "CJ" Crane, pen pal extraordinaire.

After months of exchanging increasingly personal letters, Tank knows exactly where he's headed as soon as the prison gates open. CJ doesn't know he's coming, and he's not sure what he'll say when he gets there, but he knows one thing for certain.

The promises he and his boy made to each other in their letters may have been reckless, but he's willing to risk everything he’s got on finding out if what they have could be real.

Reckless is the first book in the Leather & Chrome series and features a motorcycle club's annual charity ride, a possessive biker whose new favorite color is pink, a twenty-four-year-old overly eager to experience his first time, and an excessive appreciation for perfectly lined tattoos.

Available on eBook, Paperback, Audio, and KU!

EXPAND YOUR TBR

WITH MORE SEXY TITLES FROM KIKI!

Laying Pipe: the first in the Blue Collar Hearts series and features a delicious age gap, dad’s best friend, bisexual awakening, super low angst, and lots of butt touching as a love language.

Available in eBook, Paperback, Audio, & KU.

The Alpha and His King: the first book in the The Kincaid Pack series with a grumpy alpha and a his sweet alpha-mate. Each book features fated mates, a dash of angst, big found family feels, and slow burns that burn hot, hot, hot!

Available in eBook, Paperback, Audio, & KU.

FREE KINCAID PACK PREQUEL

A NEW PACK FOR NEW YEAR

FREE to download at www.kikiclark.com/newsletter

Injured and terrified, Victor runs for his life and right into the arms of the last person he expected to find: his true mate.

Living in a pack who viewed imperfections as weaknesses that needed to be eliminated, Victor is lucky to escape alive. He’s heard of the Kincaid Pack’s strong but fair alpha, but he has trouble truly believing he won’t be targeted once more if his shameful secret is discovered.

When Cole meets a young man with fear in his eyes and pain in his scent, he recognizes him as his mate on sight. His excitement is short-lived, however, when they find out Victor’s life is still in danger from what his old pack did to him.

After a lifetime of being abandoned by others, Victor has an important decision to make: Will he choose to trust the mate fate gave him?

Or will he run again?

A New Pack for New Year is a prequel to the best-selling Kincaid Pack series and features an eighteen-year-old wolf in need of some TLC, a thirty-something lion dying to give it to him, sexy times in an inappropriate place, found family feels, and hurt/comfort that will warm all the corners of your heart.

ALSO BY KIKI CLARK

** denotes available on audiobook

* * *

Leather & Chrome Series

**Reckless (Tank & CJ)

**Temptation (Six & Ollie)

Yearning (Houston & Kenneth)

L&C holiday novella

Joyful (Rooster & Emmett)

* * *

Blue Collar Hearts Series

**Out in the Cold (Beau & Coop)

**Laying Pipe (John & Lukas)

* * *

Forever Family Trilogy

Favor (Declan & Jeremy)

* * *

Kincaid Pack Series

FREE Prequel: A New Pack for New Year

**The Alpha and His King (Rick & Kai)

**The Second and His Bonded (Kieran & Bennett)

**The Deputy and His Enforcer (Marcus & Robson)

**The Hunter and His Mates (Drake & Jamie & Gabriel)

The Enforcer and His Heart (Nico & Keegan)

Kincaid Pack Adult Coloring Book Vol 1

* * *

Scythe Series (written with EM Lindsey)

Until His Last Goodbye

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A small town Michigan girl, Kiki has enjoyed reading since she first picked up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone as a child. After that, she devoured everything she could get her hands on and dreamed of one time writing her own books that touched people's hearts.

In her early twenties, she discovered LGBTQ romances and had a realization: these were her people and this was where she belonged.

Nearly ten years later, she's proud to finally join the ranks of authors releasing character-driven, emotionally satisfying books showcasing that everyone deserves to find love.

To keep up-to-date with Kiki, sign up for her newsletter: http://www.kikiclark.com/newsletter or join her Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/kikiskorner.

Keep in touch by following her on any of these platforms:

Facebook icon Facebook

Twitter icon Twitter

Instagram icon Instagram

Amazon icon Amazon

BookBub icon BookBub

Goodreads icon Goodreads