POSSESSION

LEATHER & CHROME BOOK 5

KIKI CLARK

Copyright © 2024 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.

NO AI/NO BOT.

I do not consent to any Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarize, or otherwise replicate any part of this creative work, via any means: print, graphic, sculpture, multimedia, audio, or other medium. I support the right of humans to control their artistic works.

www.kikiclark.com

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hi there!

Thank you so much for picking up Possession. I hope you truly enjoy the story of these three flawed and lovable people. It’s been such a joy to dive back into the L&C family, and I can’t wait to bring you more sexy biker stories.

There are a few mild content warnings if you’d like to check those out below. I would consider some to be SPOILERS so proceed at your own risk.

-Kiki

CONTENT WARNINGS:

The Leather & Chrome series has a blanket CW for domestic violence as the MC works with a DV shelter and helps survivors. There aren’t any explicit details of intimate partner violence in this book, but DV (and the general work the club does) is mentioned several times.

There is a scene where a main character has a bruised and bloody face from being in a fight. The fight happens off page, but the description of the aftermath of violence is semi-detailed.

Two main characters have experienced homophobia—off page and in the past—from family. They are no longer in contact with the people who treated them poorly and disowned them, but there are still lingering emotional after effects.

A character is a sex worker. He has a very successful OnlyFans-style channel where he shares intimate photos and videos of himself masturbating and using toys. There is one person who is rude to him about it, but it happens off page and is mentioned very briefly.

There is implied sexual activity between two main characters while they were both under the age of eighteen. They were in a committed relationship and living under the same roof—of course there was some hanky-panky happening.

Two characters have experienced parental deaths. This hasn’t happened recently for either one, though they do talk briefly about it and bond over their losses.

A character is wrongfully arrested and detained for a day before getting released. There is also mentions of police intimidation (being watched, pulled over without cause, etc.).

Please be kind to yourself and proceed with caution if any of these topics are triggering for you.

If you have questions or would like more details, please don’t hesitate to email my PA at admin@kikiclark.com.

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.

CHAPTER 1

Tomas was getting too old for this shit. He pulled off the reading glasses that were the latest concession to his age and rubbed at his tired eyes. Working on his computer too long always gave him a headache, but his current phone call, combined with working at his desk all damn day, was really taking a toll.

Not to mention the music blasting out in the main part of the clubhouse.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he spat into the phone, completely over the conversation and ready to be done with everything for the day, maybe even the week.

Fuck, maybe he’d turn in his cut and give up on the MC lifestyle for good. He had other life skills. He could just get a regular job and punch a clock and never have to worry again about county officials dicking him around because of the patch on his back.

Besides, it wasn’t like he got to spend that much time on his bike anyway. Other than club rides—where his absence would be noticed and gossiped about by all the mother hens disguised as bikers around him—getting out of his damn office had become increasingly difficult. Being the President of his club brought additional… responsibilities, beyond what others had to deal with.

The kind of shit that was starting to pile up so high around him he was having a hard time seeing over it anymore, even with his officers pitching in as much as they could. They did what they could, but they all had their own lives, and most of them had full-time jobs outside of the work the club did. So at the end of the day, most of it landed on his shoulders.

But days like today, he really thought about just quitting.

The nasally voice on the other end of the phone sighed, setting Tomas’s teeth on edge. “Well, what are you saying, then, Mr. Ortiz?”

“I’m saying,” Tomas said slowly, the bass from the music starting to throb behind his eyeballs, “that the citations are bullshit, and your inspector is penalizing the diner out of some misguided attempt to punish me and my club.”

“Those citations are legitimate⁠—”

“They aren’t. If you don’t reconsider and send another inspector, I’ll be contacting my attorney and filing a lawsuit. And then I’ll be contacting the local newspaper. And then Channel 13⁠—”

“Jesus,” the weasel muttered. “Okay.”

Tomas waited him out, not letting him off the hook or backing down.

“Well, since you’re so insistent,” the weasel said, regaining some of his confidence. “I can come out and do another inspection sometime in the next few weeks, but the business will have to pay for my time and expenses.”

Had this fucker just asked him for a bribe?

“Whatever needs to happen,” he said, making a mental note to fill in the club’s lawyer, Cynthia, on the little shit. He didn’t make empty threats. If need be, he’d absolutely sic Cyn on the asshole.

He sat back in his chair, eyes darting to his desk phone as it started to ring. Not a lot of people had the number to his office line. His old-school ass liked having a landline, but it wasn’t a public number. He used it only for people he didn’t want to have his cell number. There were too many assholes out there who were only looking to make nice with the MC to get something from them.

“I need to get that,” he said, grateful for the opportunity to get the man off the phone, even if it was probably just some spam caller. “Email me the date of the new inspection so I can make sure you see all of the good things they’re doing there.”

His hard tone let the man know that wasn’t a suggestion. He didn’t care that inspection times were supposed to be a surprise—this asshole and his crony had made his sister fucking cry, talking about having to shut her place down and all kinds of bullshit.

For the first time in the ten-minute conversation, the weasel of a man finally seemed to understand the gravity of pissing him off.

“Of c-course,” he stuttered out, audibly swallowing. “My office will be in touch.”

Tomas didn’t bother saying goodbye, just jabbed the End button and then grabbed the huge, corded monstrosity taking up a whole corner of his desk. Viper—the club’s Sergeant-At-Arms and one of his closest friends—laughed at him every time she saw him use it.

“This is Tomas,” he answered, eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

He needed to get some more Tylenol to stash in his desk if he was going to keep having to deal with bullshit like county health inspectors. Considering the club had just gone through the formality of electing new officers—not that anyone new had run for anything but Treasurer, so Tomas was locked in for another few years—he figured more headaches were in his future, and he’d finished his last bottle of painkillers over a week ago.

No one said anything on the other end of the line for a moment, and he was just about to hang up, convinced it was either a wrong number or someone trying to sell him something, when a quiet voice asked, “Is this the Devil’s Hands’ clubhouse?”

Tomas opened his eyes, curiosity unfurling in his chest. “It is. Do you need help?”

It wasn’t a completely random question—though depending on who was on the line, they might think it was. His MC did a lot of work in the community, including helping survivors of domestic violence get out of scary situations and attend court hearings. It wasn’t widely known but not exactly a secret either.

They had a dedicated number—which went to a red cell phone manned at all hours of the day so there was always someone there to answer—that was printed on business cards and passed out by SAVE, the local DV shelter. Or anyone else the club thought might benefit from having a card. But he supposed it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for someone just to google the club’s number and call if they’d heard they could help.

“Sort of,” the voice said. “I can’t get ahold of my friend Ollie.”

Tomas held back a groan. That boy was going to be the death of him. Six needed to get him in line. “Listen, I don’t know why he would have given you this number, but you’ll just have to leave him a message and⁠—”

“No, no, wait.” The guy sounded almost frantic. “Please, don’t hang up. He told me to call when I got here, but I made better time than I thought I would, and I’m early.”

A bad feeling crept over Tomas. “What do you mean when you got here?”

“I’m at the gate right now.”

He mouthed a curse and pushed to his feet. His lower back was killing him, and he was really looking forward to going home and using his inversion table, not dealing with whatever mess Ollie had dragged onto his doorstep. “He’s probably at the party right now. I can let him know you’re trying to get ahold of him if you want to turn back around and go wait at the bar.”

There was a sniffle, and Tomas ran a hand down his face as his heart clenched.

God, he was such a fucking softie.

“Or you can come in and wait in my office while I track him down,” he added on an exhale.

“I would really appreciate that,” the voice said wetly. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tomas said for some reason, the urge to comfort the upset boy overwhelming him. “Let the guy at the gate know I said you could come in.”

“Um. There isn’t a man. I’ve been sitting here trying to get ahold of Ollie for fifteen minutes.”

Fucking useless prospects. “Of course. I’ll come out and get you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mean to drag you away from the party.”

He held back a sigh. “I’m sure. Just hang tight.”

“Okay.” It was said so softly he almost didn’t catch it.

He started to hang up and then paused and brought the phone receiver back to his ear. “Has Ollie told you about the kind of parties we’ve been hosting at the clubhouse?”

There was a soft, barely there laugh. “Yeah. He told me and Vinnie all about the parties.”

Me and Vinnie.

Realization struck Tomas. He knew who this was. Ollie talked about his two best friends all the time. They were supposed to be down south somewhere—Ollie was never completely clear on where they were—while Vinnie worked a temporary job at a hospital or something.

“Okay, I’ll be right out.”

“Thank you,” Mason said quietly.

Tomas hung up the phone and stretched his neck, grimacing at the loud pops it elicited. He grabbed his hoodie from where he’d tossed it on the end of the couch earlier, tugging it on and then putting his cut on over it. The middle of January in Michigan could be bitterly cold, but just running out to open the gate, he wouldn’t need a jacket or hat—though he could hear his sister’s voice in his head admonishing him.

Considering he was sliding toward fifty at a rapid pace, he figured he was old enough to go out in a sweatshirt if he wanted to.

Though he probably wouldn’t tell Jill that.

No point in risking her calling their mom.

As soon as he opened the door to his office, he was smacked in the face with loud music. It had seemed like the door hadn’t been blocking much of the noise, but apparently, he’d been wrong. Some obnoxious techno-sounding pop song was blaring from the clubhouse’s sound system, which let him know Ollie had taken over the controls at some point.

He grimaced and made his way carefully around the groups of people, lifting a hand or nodding at anyone who caught his eye or called out a greeting. Most people were too preoccupied with what was happening in the different staged areas they set up before each party.

If someone had asked him a couple of years ago if his club would one day be hosting regular BDSM parties in their clubhouse so that his members had the opportunity to meet the types of boys and girls they were interested in, he would have laughed in their face.

And yet…

Somehow, his Vice President—and best friend—Demarcus had talked him into it, claiming it would be fun and good for the members to have a safe space to explore things they were interested in.

And that did seem to be true. Several of the members had ended up in relationships with people they had met through the parties.

Maybe Tomas was just bitter because he wasn’t one of them.

He shrugged off the thought as he stepped out into the frigid evening air. The sun had set hours ago, and he cursed that county weasel all over again. He’d been dodging his calls for days until Tomas had finally cashed in a favor and gotten his personal number. Calling him at nine o’clock at night, while he was at home and unsuspecting, was probably the only reason he’d actually gotten him on the phone.

He jogged across the parking lot, making a note to thank their new prospect, Jem, for doing such a good job clearing and salting the space. Even with the subzero windchill, the blacktop was dry and free of any slush or ice. They were just about the only decent prospect the club had at the moment. The other two—both young men who’d already had a strike against them for the way they’d sneered and rolled their eyes when he’d introduced Jem to them and let the two of them know they were nonbinary—had been eager to sign on but were more interested in trying to attend the parties or hang out in the clubhouse than do what they were asked.

Like manning the fucking gate.

Considering how many people from the wider community were inside the clubhouse and would need to leave as the evening wore on, he’d assigned one of the prospects to sit by it and let people in and out as needed. He should have been chilling in his car next to it, but there was no sign of him or his shitty Camaro. Tomas had even told him the club would reimburse him for the gas he used to leave his car running since it was so cold.

After he got Mason settled, he’d be checking every inch of the clubhouse to find the guy and take his prospect cut from him. He didn’t believe in a three-strike system—you did what you were told, or you were out. One mistake he’d give someone grace for, but that was it.

There was a sleek, bright green Audi R8 waiting on the other side of the closed gate, its powerful engine idling at a quiet rumble. It was a flashy car. And an expensive one. Tomas tried to remember if Ollie had told him what Mason did for a living but came up with a blank. Maybe his family was rich as shit.

He unhooked the latch and rolled the metal gate out of the way.

The driver’s window lowered as Tomas approached, resting his forearm on the roof of the two-hundred-thousand-dollar car. He leaned down and came face-to-face with red-rimmed, dark brown eyes and the sexiest mouth he’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Mason said quickly, glancing away and wiping at his cheeks and then fidgeting with his hair. His white skin looked completely flawless in the low lighting, nothing but dark circles and traces of tears detracting from his distracting beauty. And really, Tomas didn’t mind tears on a sub when the circumstances were right. “I didn’t know where else to go. I just really need to talk to Ollie.”

“Mason, right?”

That stunning face tipped up again, straight white teeth sinking into his plush bottom lip as he gave a short nod. “Yes, sir.”

Yes, sir.

Well, shit, this boy was going to be trouble. He could feel it in his bones.

He pointed to an area where there were some parking spaces available and then headed back to the front door, leaving the gate open until he could get somebody to man it for the rest of the evening.

Mason joined him at the door, wearing a thick parka and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Without thinking, Tomas reached over and grabbed it, easing it down his arm, before grabbing the door handle. He glanced back at Mason, wanting to give him a warning before they went in, even though they could already hear the music, the building practically vibrating with it.

Mason was watching him with wide eyes and parted lips, seemingly unsure of how to handle the small gesture of kindness. Had no one ever carried a bag for him? Tomas found that hard to believe, considering how gorgeous he was.

“It’s really loud in there,” he said, fingers flexing on the backpack’s strap. “That usually happens when Ollie’s put in charge of the sound system.”

Mason snorted and shook his head. “He’s always loved loud music that he can just get lost in.”

Tomas sighed. “I prefer to be able to hear my own thoughts.”

Those dark eyes held his gaze as Mason said softly, “Me too.”

The moment stretched out between them, stirring a feeling deep in his gut. The cold no longer touched his exposed skin, and the sounds of the party drifted away. He liked that Mason held his eyes. Bold, even as he appeared to be on the receiving end of a really shitty day.

He wasn’t sure what to do, frozen in his tracks in a way he hadn’t been in over a decade. A few soft words from this beautiful boy had put him on his heels, unsure of himself.

The door wrenched open under his hand, and one of the club members came strolling out, his arm around a middle-aged woman with mussed dark brown hair and swollen lips, effectively ending the strange moment.

Trey stopped when he saw Tomas standing there, his eyes darting from him to Mason. He raised his brows. “You good, Prez?”

He nodded him off, and Trey shrugged, hurrying his new friend across the parking lot as his hand slipped down and disappeared down the back of her skirt. Her gasp and laugh sliced through the cold, still air, and he realized the boy was watching them just like Tomas had been.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing the door handle once again. “I think I saw Six when I came through before.”

Mason nodded, dragging his eyes away from the couple as they paused next to Trey’s car. A low, feminine moan followed by Trey’s chuckle reached them, but Mason didn’t seem embarrassed by the display, just surprised.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Trey’s little bit of exhibitionism was nothing compared to what was behind the door. “You could always go back to the bar, and I can sit with you if you’d be more comfortable.”

Mason shook his head quickly. “Oh no. Not when I’m this close to seeing one of the infamous Devil’s Hands’ parties.”

Even though his eyes were still a little swollen from crying, he bestowed on Tomas a beautiful smile that made his chest hurt. Shit, he was too old to be catching feelings for someone who was obviously over a decade younger than him just because he had the face of a damn angel.

Get your shit together, Ortiz.

He pulled the door open and gestured for Mason to go in ahead of him. He wasn’t surprised when he stopped just inside the door, so Tomas had to scoot him forward a few more steps to close the door behind them. The scene before them was like something out of a hedonistic fantasy… or maybe a porno.

The booths lining one wall had equipment set up a few feet away from each other, giving space for an audience to sit and observe scenes. There were a handful of larger spaces set up on the opposite side of the big open space and a dance floor in the back near the bar.

Just to their left, at the first station in front of the booths, there was a St. Andrew’s cross currently being used. Mickey, who’d been a member of the MC since Tomas had started the new chapter, had his wife of nearly thirty years cuffed to it and was taking a crop to her. He and Mason could see her face—cheeks flushed and mouth slack with ecstasy—and watched for a moment as Mickey struck her ass a few times. The music was too loud to hear her moans from where they stood, but he could tell from the way her face changed. He also knew from watching the pair doing scenes together that the way her limbs were shaking meant she was close to orgasming.

The first time Tomas had seen the woman naked, he’d been more than a little surprised at the big bold-lettered tattoo on her ass. The word GOOD was on her left cheek and GIRL on the right. Before the club started hosting their parties, he never would’ve guessed the two of them were in the lifestyle, but it turned out there were a lot of things he didn’t know about the members of his club.

He put his hand on the small of Mason’s back and slowly guided him through the room, not trying to rush him, simply to keep him from getting lost in the alluring intimacy of each scene they passed.

Near the back of the room, at the last booth station, Tank and his boy, CJ, were making use of a spanking bench. Tank wasn’t actually spanking him though. CJ was laid out on his stomach on the narrow bench, his knees and forearms braced on the lower levels. His wrists and ankles were cuffed and attached to D-rings on the wooden supports. He was also completely naked, whereas Tank had his shirt off and jeans undone, but they were still up on his hips as he fucked his boy senseless.

Demarcus was sitting on one side of the booth, his boy right next to him and wearing nothing but tiny shorts and turquoise rope done up in a harness. On the other side, Six had Ollie sitting on his lap. Six only had jeans on, and his boy wore one of his T-shirts, making it clear they had already done their scene for the evening. Post-scenes were the only time Ollie wore anything other than his own stylish—and often outrageous—outfits.

The two always used their bedroom upstairs during the parties. Six didn’t like audiences for what he did to his boy. Although, Tomas had heard a rumor that Six didn’t mind Tank and CJ looking on. He’d never asked to confirm though.

He caught Six’s attention, pointed right at Ollie, and then the floor at Tomas’s feet.

Six was stony-faced on the best of days, but anger flared in his eyes at someone demanding something of his boy, but then his mismatched eyes slid over to where Mason stood just behind Tomas’s bigger and bulkier body, his fingers clutched together in front of him as he watched Tank and CJ with wide eyes.

He could see Six heave a sigh as he started to help Ollie up, his boy looking confused and a little hurt at being removed from his favorite spot until he spotted Tomas and Mason. Beaming, Ollie skipped over, Six’s T-shirt fluttering around his thighs, and wrapped his friend in a fierce hug.

“You made it. Why didn’t you call me? Oh, wait.” Ollie patted his borrowed shirt and laughed. “I left my phone upstairs, I guess.” He beamed up at Tomas. “Thanks.”

Then, he grabbed Mason’s hand and towed him toward the hallway that led to the stairs. Even though Six and Ollie lived on the second floor, he had a bad feeling about how quickly Ollie had disappeared his friend, like he thought Tomas would forget him if he was out of sight.

“Ollie,” he called after him, but his voice was lost in the noise of the room. He turned to Six as the club’s Enforcer joined him. Not bothering to say anything, he just led the way to his office and closed the door behind the two of them.

He set Mason’s bag on one of the chairs in front of his desk and then turned on Six, crossing his arms and raising his brows.

“What the hell, man.”

Six sighed and rubbed a hand over his buzzed hair. “I don’t know. I’ll get to the bottom of what it is. All I know is he and Vinnie had some sort of fight, so Mason drove home.”

Tomas frowned, trying to remember more about the two young men, but he tended to tune Ollie out when he got on a roll. It was a self-defense mechanism after hearing way too much about his friend’s dick for his comfort.

“Where is he staying, Six?” Tomas asked, getting right to the point.

“It’ll just be for a couple of nights,” Six said, not even bothering to pretend like he didn’t know that Ollie planned on having a sleepover with his friend in the clubhouse.

“It’s against the bylaws.”

“I know. I’m sorry. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go right now.”

Tomas scratched at his beard, trying not to let that sway him, but he just kept seeing those sad, reddened eyes and damp cheeks when Mason had rolled the window down and looked up at him. The rules about allowing people to stay in the clubhouse were generally to protect the club from anyone finding out about their business, specifically the work they did with the local domestic violence shelter, SAVE, but Mason already knew about that. He and Ollie had been there when Six had responded to a call that involved another friend of theirs, but Tomas didn’t like the precedent it set.

They weren’t a damn hotel.

“No more than a few days,” Tomas finally said, and Six nodded, heading for the door.

He stopped before opening it, turning back to look at Tomas with steady eyes. His irises, one blue and the other light brown, always gave him an intense look, even when he was completely calm.

“Be careful with him.”

Tomas raised a brow. “I’m not going to do anything with him.”

Six raised a brow right back at him. “He and Vinnie are a package deal, no matter if they’re in a fight right now. I won’t stand for anyone getting hurt.”

Tomas nearly waved him off, the idea of him hurting Ollie’s friend almost offensive. But then he realized that his friend was talking about him, that it didn’t matter if he and Mason had an instant, palpable chemistry.

When Vinnie came after him, he would be the one Mason would choose.

“I hear you.”

It was all he was willing to say on the matter, and Six respected that, nodding once more and then slipping out of the room. Tomas didn’t have any plans to start anything up anyway. He was too busy to focus on a relationship. And pursuing someone in their twenties when he’d be turning forty-seven that year made him feel even older than his reading glasses did.

He’d always known he was polyamorous and that he wanted to settle down with two or three people, maybe adopt a few kids if everyone was in agreement, but as he’d gotten older and every attempt at building something sustainable had failed, he’d begun to give up hope. Most people were okay with sharing him for the short term, but few understood or respected his need for multiple partners.

It was tiring, and he was exhausted.

But his work as the club’s leader was never done.

With a sigh, he stripped off his cut and sweatshirt and headed back out into the den of iniquity. He had a prospect to fire.

CHAPTER 2

“Holy shit. You were not kidding about those parties.”

Ollie threw a laugh over his shoulder and dragged Mason into a dark room, flicking on a light to reveal the bedroom Mason had become familiar with through their weekly video chats. “Why would I have lied about the parties?”

Mason shrugged and shoved his hands into his back pockets. “I don’t know. To make me jealous so I’d come home sooner?”

Ollie pulled a face and planted his hands on his hips. He looked ridiculous in a T-shirt that had to be his boyfriend Six’s since it went down to his knees and hung off one of his shoulders, but he still had his painted nails and newly dyed blue hair.

Quintessential Ollie.

Being in the same room as him for the first time in nearly an entire year had tears burning at the back of his eyes once more, but he forced the emotion away. He was so tired of crying. He was tired of… everything.

“Of course I wanted you to come back sooner,” Ollie sassed him. “But what would be the point of enticing you to come home with stories about parties if they weren’t true? Then you’d just get mad and leave again.”

Mason shook his head, pressing his lips together to keep them from trembling. “I’m not leaving again.”

Ollie’s whole stance softened, and he stepped right into Mason’s space, wrapping him in another hug. He held on to one of his best friends in the entire world, more grateful than he could express that he had a safe place to land as his life was falling apart. Ollie could brat with the best of them, but he was a truly kind and good person and an amazing friend.

“Why do you smell like sex and vanilla?” he mumbled against Ollie’s neck.

They both started laughing. Soft chuckles at first, and then they grew louder, and they had to pull apart, their bodies shaking too hard to hang on to one another.

Ollie shoved at his shoulder. “I’ll give you one guess.”

“Well, the sex part I understand,” Mason said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s the vanilla that’s weird. You’re not really a vanilla-scented kind of person.”

Ollie grinned at him, grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, and yanked it up to his collarbones. Mason stared and then kept staring. It wasn’t like he had never seen Ollie naked before. The two of them and Vinnie had started a monthly waxing party years ago. There wasn’t a crevice on Ollie’s body he wasn’t familiar with.

But he still wasn’t sure how to react.

There were red marks on his chest and stomach, hips and thighs, and there was a metal cock cage enclosing his private bits. To say Ollie had no shame was an understatement, but even Mason, who was used to his antics, was thrown by the sudden flashing.

Of course, that was the moment the door opened behind him and Ollie’s enormous and slightly terrifying boyfriend and daddy walked into the room.

Mason took a few steps back, separating himself even farther from Ollie, and held up his hand. “It isn’t what it looks like.”

Six glanced at him and then turned to his boy. “Showing off your marks?”

The smile Ollie gave him was something Mason had only seen through the screen of his computer or phone if Six happened to interrupt their chats. It radiated with a kind of soul-deep love and adoration Mason had been doing his best not to be jealous of.

“Yup,” Ollie said, rocking up onto his toes and popping his p. “I think wax play goes on the list of things we’ll be doing again for sure.”

“Such a troublemaker,” Six said softly, gripping the back of Ollie’s neck and tugging him forward and laying a quick but thorough kiss on his mouth.

When they separated, Mason glanced away, embarrassed for some reason at being caught watching their sweet exchange.

“I talked to Tomas,” Six said, and Mason realized he was talking to him. “He said you could stay for a few days, but it can’t be permanent.”

Mason’s stomach twisted, but he smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be out of your guys’ hair before you know it.”

Six gave him a look that Mason chose to interpret as I believe you and not the disbelief it clearly was and held out his backpack. Mason hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding it.

“Oh, thanks.” He was confused for a moment, the last half an hour such a whirlwind of sights and sounds and emotions he couldn’t figure out how Six had ended up with it.

Then he remembered the club’s President, Tomas, slipping it off his shoulder so he could carry it. He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t even technically offered. He’d just… done it.

It was such a small piece of the weight sitting on Mason’s shoulders, but it had felt monumental in the moment. Like Tomas was willing to shoulder anything Mason would need help carrying. It was a ridiculous thought, and he knew it was just because he was so upset over Vinnie and what had happened in Atlanta, but in the moment, it had felt so nice to be cared for in such a simple way.

“Thank you,” Mason said softly, taking it from him and letting it hang from his fingertips. The rest of his stuff was still in his car, but he had what he needed for the night shoved in the bulging backpack.

Well, that wasn’t true. What he could fit was in his car. The rest was still back in Atlanta in the apartment he had been sharing with Vinnie for a year. He wasn’t even sure what he’d ended up leaving behind, but he hoped it wasn’t something he’d miss.

Six caressed the bottom of Ollie’s chin with his thumb, holding his gaze for a moment longer than most would consider polite, and then he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“I see things are still going well between the two of you,” Mason said, smiling at his friend as Ollie beamed back at him.

“So well,” he gushed, darting over and grabbing Mason’s free hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I keep waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over, but every day, it’s like I love him a little bit more.”

“That’s beautiful,” Mason said, burying his ugly jealousy. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, and the sex is out of this world,” Ollie added and waggled his eyebrows.

Mason rolled his eyes, but he was grateful for the lightening of the mood.

He should’ve known better.

Just as quickly as he’d made the lewd comment, Ollie shifted gears and asked, “Are you going to tell me what happened and how it is you’re here tonight instead of tomorrow when I was expecting you?”

Mason sighed, long and loud. He glanced around the room and spotted a recliner wedged in the corner. He let his backpack slide to the ground and then sat down. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he rubbed at his face.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, his voice muffled behind his hands. “But I’m here early because…”

He couldn’t finish, not without crying, and he was so damn tired of crying.

But then Ollie was kneeling in front of him, pulling his hands from his face and making a soft sound of dismay at the fresh tears on Mason’s cheeks.

“I thought you were going to stay at your grandparents’ for the night.”

That had been his plan. His mom’s parents lived just south of the Michigan border in Ohio, and he’d planned to spend the evening and night at their place, have breakfast with them in the morning, and then drive up to meet Ollie tomorrow afternoon.

He shook his head, turning his hands so he could grip Ollie’s tightly. “My aunt called them. She somehow found out about my channel and told them about what I do for a living.”

“God, what a fucking bitch,” Ollie said fiercely. “I’m so sorry, Mase.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. “I should be used to it, and I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. It just seemed like things were finally starting to get better.”

“I know.” Ollie scooted forward on his knees, pressing his cheek to the side of Mason’s head, offering as much comfort as he could. He understood what it was like to lose family who weren’t willing to accept you for who you were. Mason had thought he’d accepted it and moved on. That he’d gotten past the pain of being disowned by Vinnie’s parents after they’d gone to the effort of adopting him after his folks had died when he was sixteen.

But when his grandma had reached out to him a few months ago, saying she and his grandpa wanted to repair their relationship after not speaking to him for nearly a decade because of him being gay, he’d been so happy. He’d let himself become vulnerable to the pain and disappointment all over again.

“Well, screw them,” Ollie said, giving his hands another squeeze. “If they can’t see what an amazing person you are, then they don’t fucking deserve you. I’m gonna keep you all to myself.”

Mason chuckled wetly. “Yeah, screw them.”

Ollie leaned back, and Mason knew what was coming next. He couldn’t put it off any longer and was honestly a little surprised Ollie hadn’t forced it out of him before he’d arrived on his doorstep.

“Now, spill. What happened?”

“You know that things haven’t been great lately…” Mason hedged, glancing away.

“I know you’ve been unhappy,” Ollie pointed out, tugging on his hands to get him to look at him again. “And I know that Vinnie’s been working a lot, which always makes him crabby, and that you’ve been alone.”

“It’s been awful,” Mason whispered. “I knew it wouldn’t be the same as being here with you and Penny, but I thought maybe I would make other friends to help pass the time. Or that Vinnie and I would play tourist on his days off and check out some of the local spots.” He wet his lips. “We did visit a lot of places, at first…”

“But then you stopped?” Ollie clarified.

Mason shrugged. “It was like… we saw all the things we wanted to, so then there was no reason to go anywhere. Vinnie was always tired but picking up extra shifts.” Mason pressed his lips together and sniffed inelegantly. “A few months ago, I started talking about how we should make plans for when we moved home. Maybe think about buying a house instead of renting another apartment.”

“Okay,” Ollie said, a furrow between his brows.

“Vinnie never wanted to talk about it. Whenever we talked about anything money related, he’d get upset and end up storming out.”

“Out of the room?”

“No, out of the apartment. He’d leave for hours and then come back and say he just didn’t want to talk about things yet and act like that was it. I didn’t get to talk about it because he didn’t want to.”

Ollie’s face was pinched, and Mason knew him well enough to know he was upset on Mason’s behalf but was holding it in. “So, what made you leave?”

“He came home the other day with a new contract.”

Ollie’s head jerked back in surprise. “A new contract, as in to stay for another year?”

Mason shook his head. “No, a new contract for a new hospital. In another state.”

“He wanted you to move again?”

Mason nodded, just remembering made his heart ache. “He acted like I should be happy about it. Like I had been talking about being bored and wanting to move somewhere else and not that I was lonely and wanted to go home to our friends. We ended up fighting, and he finally admitted that he was doing all this—working as a traveling respiratory therapist and picking up extra shifts—to make more money because he doesn’t like how much more I make than him. That he feels like it makes us unequal.”

“That foolish man,” Ollie muttered, shaking his head. “He’s always had more pride than sense when it comes to certain things.”

Mason gave him a halfhearted smile. “That’s true. I just usually wasn’t on the other end of it. So, I asked him if he wanted me to quit and shut down my channel, and he didn’t really answer. He said that this was the only way to come anywhere close to making what I did.”

“And you told him you didn’t care how much money he made?”

Mason nodded. “Repeatedly. I told him if it was about buying a house that we didn’t have to do that. That we could go back to getting an apartment and splitting everything fifty-fifty. That we didn’t have to talk about anything to do with finances if it upset him so much. And he acted like I was missing the point and being ‘deliberately obtuse.’”

Ollie rolled his eyes. “God, that sounds like Vinnie. He needs a swift kick to the ass.”

“Yeah, well, instead of doing that or something else I’d regret, I told him I was done with whatever point he was trying to prove. That if he needed to prove something to himself, that was fine, but I wasn’t going to get dragged along anymore.”

“What did he say?”

Mason shrugged. “He didn’t really say anything. He just left the room, so I went after him and asked if he understood what I meant. That if he signed the new contract, I was leaving and going back home.”

“Oh god, I’m almost scared to ask what he did next.” Ollie grimaced at him, knowing Vinnie’s temper as well as Mason did.

“He pulled my suitcase out of the closet, put it on the bed, and said if I was going to offer him an ultimatum, then maybe it was for the best if I just left now.”

“No, he did not!” Ollie exclaimed, eyes widening.

“Sure did.” Mason swallowed and glanced down at himself. He was still in the same clothes he’d been in when he’d left yesterday evening. He was exhausted and heartbroken and wanted nothing more than to sleep for a few days.

That wasn’t true.

He wanted Vinnie to be in the bed next to him and the last day to be nothing more than a nightmare more than anything else.

“He’ll come around,” Ollie said, like he could read Mason’s mind. Which he could.

The three of them had been so close for years. Ollie, more than anyone else, knew and understood the dynamic between him and Vinnie. Had seen them through their ups and downs. Talked each of them off ledges and played referee.

Moving nearly a thousand miles away where Ollie—or anyone, really—wasn’t there to help keep him and Vinnie from going off the rails had been the biggest mistake of their lives. But if they couldn’t handle their relationship on their own, how could it ever truly last?

“Maybe,” Mason said softly. “I just don’t know if I’m going to be there when he does.”

Mason ran a hand through his hair and made a face at the length. It had been too long since he’d gotten a haircut, and it was starting to get curly. It always made him think about kids at school calling him a chia pet when he was younger, so he tried to keep it short and in control.

But just like everything else in his life, it had spiraled beyond his clutching fingers. And Vinnie liked it a little longer, liked to hold on to him while they got hot and heavy.

At least, he used to.

Ollie had tried to force him to keep talking and even suggested they call Vinnie together, but Mason had put his foot down. He was nowhere near ready to talk to Vinnie, and he was done talking about what had happened.

Thankfully, Ollie had relented, realizing how exhausted he was. He’d offered Mason the room that connected to his and Six’s via a bathroom. Mason knew that Tank and CJ used to stay in that room, but they had moved out recently.

To try and get things back to normal, Mason had made a joke, telling Ollie that if he and Six wanted to keep up the tradition of the room by having sex in front of him sometimes, he’d be open to it. Ollie had just laughed and gone to get him an extra set of sheets for the bed.

They’d made it up together, and then Ollie had given him a very long hug, telling him that everything would work out and that he would be downstairs with Six if he needed anything.

After a long, hot shower, Mason felt at least half human again, if still hollowed out and emotionally fragile. He left the jeans and shirt in his backpack and just pulled on a pair of underwear to sleep in.

He and Vinnie didn’t usually wear clothes to bed, but it felt strange to sleep naked in a room on the second floor of a motorcycle club’s clubhouse, only separated from one of his best friends and his boyfriend by a couple of bathroom doors.

There wasn’t anything in the room besides the bed, though Ollie had told him there was some extra stuff in a pole barn out back and that they could grab anything he needed in the morning. Mason had a feeling the club’s President would have a problem with that.

It would make things feel too permanent. And this was all just temporary.

He hoped.

He flicked off the overhead light and carefully shuffled across the thick carpeting in the pitch-black. Maybe he should at least get a lamp to put next to the bed so he didn’t stub a toe. Crawling under the covers that smelled nothing like his detergent or Vinnie’s bodywash, he unlocked his phone.

For the first time since he’d left the day before, he pulled up his messaging thread with Vinnie and read what had come through over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

Did you seriously leave?

Mason, answer me

I checked your location. I can’t believe you actually left.

My contract still has another 3 weeks on it. I can’t go running after you rn

Mason

Seriously you’re just going to ignore me???

God dammit Mase! Answer the phone

I’m not going to play this game with you. If you wanted to go pout to Ollie for a few days you couldve at least let me know.

A couple of hours ago, one last text had come through. Mason stared at that one for the longest time, his heart aching.

Please let me know you’re okay.

He knew that if he responded, Vinnie would use it as the opening that it was and try and call him again. Maybe even try and FaceTime. And he was just too tired for that. Tired of their yearlong fight. Tired of feeling like his wants and needs didn’t matter. Tired of feeling like he needed to apologize for how much money he made.

Just… tired.

He tossed his phone aside and groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He should just try and go to sleep. Tomorrow, he’d have to figure out what the hell he was doing and where he was going to stay. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off the sexy President.

He flipped onto his side, tugging the extra pillow into his chest, just as someone knocked at the door. Assuming it was Ollie checking on him again, he flicked on the light and opened it fully without checking to see and came face-to-face with Tomas.

“Oh. Um.” Mason glanced down at his mostly naked body. Considering what he did for a living, he wasn’t exactly ashamed of the way he looked, so he couldn’t quite understand why his face was heating with embarrassment as Tomas ran his gaze slowly down his body all the way to his red-painted toenails and then back up.

“Expecting someone else?” Tomas asked, an edge to his voice.

Frowning, Mason shook his head and took a step back. “Just Ollie. I thought maybe he was going to pester me into talking some more. Um… Did you want to come in?”

Tomas scratched at his cheek, the soft scritch, scritch of his beard sending a shiver down Mason’s spine. He wasn’t exactly sure how old the man was, but he had to at least be in his forties. His dark hair and beard were both mixed liberally with gray, his golden skin starting to show wear in the worry lines across his forehead and crow’s feet next to his serious, dark eyes.

“Just for a minute,” Tomas finally said and took two steps into the room and then shut the door behind him.

The bedrooms on the second floor of the clubhouse weren’t large, but they weren’t super small either. Plus, the room Mason was using was basically empty, and yet the second he was closed in, his head craning back to look into Tomas’s face, it felt like the man was filling the entire space, surrounding Mason with his warmth, woody scent, and concern.

Tomas glanced around, his eyes lingering on the bed before coming back to Mason’s. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything before I headed home.”

Mason could think of quite a few things that he needed—including but not limited to getting fucked until he couldn’t remember his own name, let alone the wreckage of his life—but he wasn’t sure any of them were things Tomas would be willing to give him.

He put on his best smile and said, “No, but thank you for checking. Ollie got me some sheets and let me use the shower. Now, I’m just going to try and get some sleep. It was a long drive.”

Tomas nodded, running his tongue over his teeth. “The noise from downstairs won’t bother you too much to sleep?”

“Nah, I’ll put a podcast on, and once I’m out, I’m like waking the dead.”

The barest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Tomas’s mouth. “Give me your phone.”

Mason raised his brows but turned, put one knee on the bed, and stretched across it to reach where he’d left his phone wedged between the bed and the wall. There was a noise behind him, like maybe a cut-off curse, and he sank his teeth into his bottom lip.

He knew what his ass looked like in this pair of underwear. The lacy edges went halfway up his cheeks, giving a hint at what was between them. He took his time straightening, letting Tomas look as much as he wanted. He was sad, not dead.

His pulse sped up as he turned and found heated eyes locked on him.

“You’re a troublemaker just like Ollie, aren’t you?” Tomas said, waiting for Mason to unlock his phone before taking it from him.

“No one is quite like Ollie,” Mason said, smiling softly as he thought about how his friend could go from showing off the red marks on his bare skin from his wax play session with his daddy to cradling Mason’s hands in his own and promising him everything would be okay. “And I wouldn’t call myself a troublemaker, no.”

Tomas typed something into his phone and then handed it back, eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? What would you call yourself?”

He rubbed his lips together and stared up at the ceiling, really thinking about it. There were a lot of answers he could give to that question, ranging from lies to flirting.

But something about Tomas’s almost stern demeanor had him deciding to go with honesty.

“Lost.”

CHAPTER 3

He actually fucking left.

Vinnie paced the length of his apartment, staring at his cell phone. He’d been texting Mason all day, even tried calling a couple of times, but no response.

First, he thought he was just being dramatic. That he’d taken his suitcase and was staying in a hotel or something for the night, but when he hadn’t come back that morning, a bad feeling had crept over Vinnie. He’d finally given in and checked to see where his phone was and found that it was making the trek back to Michigan.

Without him.

Mason had stopped moving about an hour before at a place Vinnie knew was the Devil’s Hands motorcycle club’s clubhouse. He thought for sure he would finally get at least a perfunctory text letting him know he’d arrived in one piece. Maybe even letting Vinnie know that he’d call him in the morning. Something.

But still nothing.

Vinnie gripped the back of his neck and squeezed, hard. The pain that had been radiating from the base of his skull and into his shoulders for what felt like the entire twelve months they’d been in Atlanta was at an all-time high.

What the fuck was he doing?

What the fuck was Mason doing?

For over a decade, it had been the two of them against the world. Ollie sometimes called their relationship codependent and unhealthy, but they’d leaned on each other for so long he’d thought neither one of them knew how to stand on their own anymore.

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

Apparently, he was the only one who didn’t know how to stand on his own. Mason had been propping him up all these years.

Maybe this was for the best. Maybe they really were too codependent, and it was time they learned to be two separate people instead of the duo they’d been for so long.

He was just pouring himself an unhealthy amount of vodka into a glass with a few ice cubes when his phone started vibrating on the counter behind him. He nearly dropped his glass in his haste to grab it. Never in his life had he ever been disappointed to see Ollie’s name and face on the screen, his hundred-watt smile beaming up at him.

He took a deep breath and then tried to sound halfway normal. “Hey, Ol. How’s it going?”

“You tell me, Vin,” Ollie said, voice sharper than usual. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“That is the question of the hour,” Vinnie mumbled and took a deep drink, wincing at the burn of the freezing cold liquor.

“I’m being completely serious. You need to get your head out of your ass. You know I love you, but if half of what Mason told me is true⁠—”

“What? You’ll take his side in the divorce?” Vinnie cut in, his chest feeling like it was going to explode.

Of course Ollie would take Mason’s side. Their friend Penny would too. Mason was the more likable one. The sweet one. The nice one.

Vinnie had always been more serious. More cautious and stubborn. If Mason hadn’t been the bridge, he wasn’t sure he would have built friendships that would have lasted a quarter as long as his ones with Ollie and Penny had.

He just wasn’t built that way.

He wouldn’t be surprised, though, when he lost them like he was going to Mason. He even knew it was his fault. He wasn’t delusional. He knew he was being an asshole. That he was letting his own shit in his head build up until it was an orchestra of negativity and blame and jealousy. Making him lash out at the one person in his life who’d ever loved him unconditionally.

Because of what? Money?

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he deserved to be alone, abandoned all over again, just like when his parents found him and Mase half-naked on his bed a month before they finished high school.

He took another drink.

“I’m not choosing sides,” Ollie said, sounding exasperated.

There was music in the background—something with a heavy bass and fast pace—and the low hum of voices. It pissed him off, helping him shed some of his self-pity. Was Mason too busy partying it up with the bikers to return his texts and phone calls?

“I’m just trying to understand what’s going on,” Ollie continued, oblivious to the rising storm in Vinnie’s head. “The two of you are like conjoined twins, and yet half of you is camped out in the room next to mine, heartbroken, and the other half sounds like they’re getting drunk by themselves across the country.”

Vinnie swirled the ice cubes in his glass. Fucking Ollie. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, keeping his tone even. “It was just an argument. I’m sure we’ll work it out.”

Ollie snorted. “If I honestly thought you believed that, I’d fly down there and smack you upside the head myself. But we both know you don’t. So, I’m going to give you a little piece of advice.”

Jaw clenching, Vinnie set his glass down harder than he meant. “Relationship advice from Ollie? Wait while I grab a pen and paper.”

“Ha ha.”

“Okay, I’m ready. Go ahead and hit me.”

“Oh, I’ll hit you,” Ollie snapped at him. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on in that head of yours, but if you don’t figure out why you’re trying to ruin your own fucking life, fix it, and then get your ass up here and fix what you did to Mason, you’re going to regret it. He won’t wait for you forever.”

An ice pick to the fucking heart.

Ollie could be the fun-loving, never-serious friend more often than not, but when he felt like you were messing up and needed a talking-to, he was the first in line to give you a verbal smackdown.

The fact that he’d said Mason was heartbroken was tearing at his insides, leaving his organs bruised and bleeding. That was the last thing he wanted. He just… The way their relationship had changed the last few years, he couldn’t stop obsessing over the biting comments his parents had made to him before kicking him and Mase out and never speaking to them again.

Mostly, it had been outdated bullshit like telling him he’d die from AIDS, but more than once, his dad had said some nasty things about how Vinnie would basically end up as some rich guy’s dirty secret until getting kicked to the curb once he wasn’t young and attractive anymore.

He’d been able to bury it all down deep and rarely thought about it. He’d gotten his degree and started working at the hospital, bringing home good money with benefits and supporting Mason whenever he jumped to another short-term job. Mason hadn’t been able to settle on one thing and gave up on college after a couple of years, so money could be tight for him, but Vinnie hadn’t minded sometimes covering the majority of their bills.

But then Mason’s channel had taken off.

Almost overnight, he was making thousands of dollars a month, and their entire dynamic shifted. From one moment to the next, they’d gone from Vinnie needing to help keep Mason afloat from month to month to Mason bringing home just as much as him.

And then more.

And then double.

Not only had he grown in popularity online, but Mason had blossomed into a stable, self-confident person who didn’t need help from Vinnie anymore. He didn’t need anything from anybody. It was like a gaping hole in their relationship that had always been there had suddenly been exposed.

If Mason didn’t need him, then how long would it be before Mason left him?

Turned out—not nearly as long as he’d hoped.

“Did you hear me?” Ollie asked, still annoyed.

“I heard you,” Vinnie said, swallowing the last of his vodka and then pouring himself another. “He, uh, got there, okay?”

He hated that he had to beg for information from somebody else, making it clear that Mason wasn’t talking to him. That no matter what he said, Ollie was right. This wasn’t some ordinary argument where one of them just needed to blow off some steam before coming home.

There was a brief pause, like maybe he was surprised that Vinnie didn’t know, and then he said softly, “Yeah, he’s fine. I’ve got him all tucked in up in Tank and CJ’s old room. He was pretty tired, so he’s probably already asleep.”

Vinnie doubted it. Neither one of them slept well while apart, too many years of sharing a bed. First, they’d done it out of necessity when they could barely afford their studio apartment and then out of comfort and familiarity. They had grown so used to each other’s warmth and having another body in the bed next to them that they never bothered getting a two-bedroom, even after they could have easily afforded it.

“Thanks, Ollie. Talk later,” he mumbled and then hung up, all his anger from a few minutes before drained away.

For a long time, he stood at the counter in the kitchen of the apartment he’d lived in for a year but had never quite felt like home. No matter how hard he’d tried to ignore it, things had never been great in Atlanta. Mason had been miserable almost from the moment they’d left Michigan.

And now that half the closet was empty and all of Mason’s equipment was gone?

It felt like a tomb.

It was well past midnight before he dragged himself into the bedroom, stripped down, and crawled into bed. He buried his face in Mason’s pillow and inhaled. It smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, which Vinnie always teased him smelled like flowers, but Mason liked it, so he kept buying it.

He took another deep breath, pretending his whole body didn’t shudder with the effort of keeping his tears at bay. He didn’t deserve to cry. He was the one who’d made this mess. He had to live with the consequences.

More than anything in that moment—maybe even more than he wished for Mason to come back home—he wanted strong, reassuring arms to wrap around him. He wanted to be told that, yes, he’d messed up, but it wasn’t the end of the world, and that the owner of those arms would help him make it right.

But he knew that was a pipedream.

He’d given up on finding that perfect third for him and Mason a couple of years ago, though he’d let Mason believe he still had hope. After so many failed attempts, all his fantasies from when they were young and eagerly looking for a Dom who could give them both what they needed had dried up. Their desires were too different. They were too different.

He just hoped that when Mason found someone to give him all the things Vinnie couldn’t, he still got to be at least a small part of Mason’s life.

Six and a half days.

It took Mason six and a half days to text him back.

Vinnie had been in the middle of a shift from hell when it finally came through, and it was hours later before he had the chance to read it and respond.

Mase: Don’t forget to water the plants

That was it. That was the text message that Mason sent him after nearly a week of icing him out. When he finally clocked out and walked the few blocks to the building where his travel agency had set him up, he was fuming.

He threw himself down on the couch and called Mason via FaceTime. He had little hope that it would be answered. He was mentally preparing a sarcastic response to send back, maybe take a picture of one of the wilting plants and tell him that if he cared so much about his precious babies, he should have stayed.

But Mason answered.

He couldn’t see much of the room behind him, but it looked like the walls were bare. Could he still be in Tank and CJ’s old room? Vinnie wouldn’t have thought the MC would be okay with somebody crashing at their clubhouse who wasn’t a member—or at least dating one.

“After a week, that’s all you have to say to me?” Vinnie asked, his voice cold. After the fourth day, he’d moved past devastation and feelings of abandonment and had been simmering at a low anger ever since.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Mason said softly, a furrow between his brows.

His hair was still too long—well, longer than he liked it. Vinnie liked when he let it have a little curl. He liked tangling his fingers in it when they made out on the couch. Not that they had done that in quite a while. But considering Ollie was literally like twenty feet away, he’d assumed he’d have gotten a haircut as soon as possible.

“When are you coming back home? Why don’t we start there.”

“I am home, Vinnie. I guess the question is when are you coming home?”

He clenched his teeth and looked away. “I can’t just leave. I’m still under contract.”

Mason didn’t say anything for a long moment, and the strained silence between them dug at Vinnie’s insides like razor blades until he finally had to look. The disappointment on Mason’s face was just another cut.

“I know you are. I meant, are you going to sign another contract when this one is up?”

The paperwork for the new placement was still sitting on the coffee table. Exactly where he’d thrown the papers the night they’d gotten into their big fight. He hadn’t looked at or touched them since.

“I don’t know, Mase. Everything is just…” He shook his head.

“Fucked-up,” Mason answered.

“Yeah, that,” he said with a hollow laugh. “What are we doing?”

“Vinnie…”

“No, seriously. Since when are we the kind of people who take off after a fight and don’t come back?”

“Don’t. Don’t act like this was just like any other fight. You told me to go.”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Yes, you did,” Mason said, speaking right over him. “You threw my suitcase on the bed, looked me in the eye, and you told me to leave.”

“Because you wanted to!” Vinnie exploded, jumping to his feet. “Because you’ve wanted to ever since we left. You think I didn’t know how much you hated this? How much you regretted coming with me? How much you resented me?”

“I didn’t,” Mason said, getting softer in response to Vinnie’s anger, which only ever pissed him off more. He hated being the one who couldn’t hold it together.

“Yes, you did,” Vinnie said, bitterness dripping off his tongue. “Every day since the day we left, you have been miserable. It didn’t matter how many places we visited or how many restaurants we tried or how many plants I bought you. You made up your mind that you would hate being here, and you made sure I knew that nothing I did would make it better every single day.”

“Vinnie,” Mason gasped. “That’s not what… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean for you to actually leave.”

They sat in silence for a minute, all the things that had happened between them in the last year—all the words that had been said and all the ones that had been left unsaid—filling the space. Crowding them out. Forcing them further apart.

“I don’t know what you want anymore,” Vinnie whispered, tilting his phone to hide most of his face, letting the screen only show part of his jaw, an ear, and his low fade.

“What do you mean?” Mason asked just as quietly. “I tried to talk to you about getting a house or⁠—”

“No. Not, like, where we want to live. I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what we are to each other.”

“We’re the same thing we’ve always been.”

“What’s that?” Vinnie asked, hating how broken his voice was but unable to stop. “Best friends? Boyfriends? Roommates? We’ve been moving forward together for so long, but I feel like we’ve lost track of what we’re actually moving toward. I don’t know where the finish line is anymore, Mase. I don’t even know if we have the same finish line anymore.”

“I guess I don’t either,” Mason agreed slowly. “Maybe that’s something we need to figure out while we’re apart.”

While we’re apart.

He hated those words, but he just nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Will you let me know about your contract?” Mason asked, his voice so quiet Vinnie almost didn’t catch it.

He moved the phone so that he was looking right into it and saw that Mason’s eyes were wet, his cheeks a little red. “Mase…”

Instead of answering or waiting for Vinnie to say something more, he just shook his head and hung up. Vinnie kept staring at the screen, wondering if that call made anything better… or everything worse.

He wasn’t wrong though.

At least not about the fact that they seemed to be lost. Maybe they’d both thought the other one knew where they were going, but in reality, neither one had any idea.

When they were young, they used to talk about the future all the time. They’d share all the things they wanted and paint a beautiful picture of their life together with their mystery third.

Mason used to talk about how he wanted to get at least two dogs, maybe a cat too. And Vinnie liked to daydream about having a library like in Beauty and the Beast. A place where he could go and curl up with a good book anytime he wanted.

But they also used to talk about what they were looking for in their third. As much as they loved each other and wanted to spend their lives together, they’d always known they couldn’t give each other everything that they needed. They were both subs, and even though Vinnie could top every once in a while, they both preferred bottoming. But they’d always felt that they were each other’s soul mates.

That’s what Mason used to call him—his soul mate. He also used to say they were lucky because they got two soul mates each. They just had to find their second one.

For years, they’d done that. Except whenever they found someone who seemed like they’d fit within their relationship, they always failed to fulfill both Vinnie’s and Mason’s needs.

If they weren’t so different in what they desired, it would have been easier. There were several Doms over the years who’d claimed to like what both of them wanted, but they always ended up either preferring the sharp, nasty things that Vinnie craved or the soft reverence Mason absorbed like a thirsty little sponge.

Vinnie’s heart just… wasn’t in it anymore.

Mason had never given up, but he’d been able to tell that Vinnie was getting discouraged and so stopped talking about it as much. They stopped talking about their future at all.

And for a little while, Vinnie had liked it. He’d liked being able to live in the moment and not worry about trying to find some mythical person to fill the hole in their lives, but he’d been lying to himself as much as Mason.

Now, he was on the verge of losing him. His soulmate. The one person in the world who had always been there for him and loved him even when he was being an asshole.

Did he even deserve the chance to try to make things better between them? Maybe he should just let Mason go. Let him be happy. Break things off completely so he could move on from Vinnie and find someone to flog his ass and call him a good boy. Maybe Mason would be happier if he forgot all about their childish dreams of finding one man for the both of them.

His stomach soured. Maybe if he was a better person, he could do that. If he was a better person, he’d want to do that.

He looked at the unsigned contract, the papers clipped together but disheveled from his forceful toss the other night. Carefully, he picked them up and tapped them straight, adjusting the paperclip so it was perfectly parallel in the top left corner.

Then he stood, carried them into the kitchen, and threw them in the trash.

He didn’t know if he and Mason could get back on the same page—figure out what they wanted from each other, from life, from a potential third—but he did know he wasn’t going to figure it out by signing another twelve-month contract and going to Dallas.

As soon as he could, he was going to head back to Michigan and see if he could fix what he’d broken.

CHAPTER 4

Mason tossed his phone aside, wiped the tears from beneath his eyes, and stood. He’d been putting off that conversation with Vinnie for days because he knew nothing would be solved from it, and he’d been right.

He wasn’t sorry he’d left and come home. Not really. Though he was sorry he’d hurt Vinnie. He never wanted to do that. It was why he’d stayed for as long as he had, even though he’d been miserable since the beginning.

But they wouldn’t be able to solve anything hundreds of miles apart. If Vinnie decided to go to Texas, they would never fix what was broken between them, but if he came home, he knew they’d have a chance.

The next couple of weeks were going to be difficult, not only because he’d be unable to stop thinking about what would happen when Vinnie’s contract was up but also because while he would have Penny and Ollie and all of the wonderful people Ollie had surrounded himself with, Vinnie wouldn’t have anyone.

And knowing that, living with the knowledge that Vinnie was by himself for the first time since he and Mason had been forced out by Vinnie’s parents, was killing him.

They’d been living together since they graduated high school, sharing every high and low, all of their ups and downs. No matter how bad things got, they’d at least had each other.

But Vinnie had to make his choice. All Mason could do was hope he came home too.

Sniffling, he scrubbed at his face and decided to head downstairs to see if he could pilfer anything decent from the kitchen. He’d been spending time each day trying to find a place to rent so he could get out of the MC’s hair, but all the places he’d looked at so far had either been in the middle of college students—and the last thing he wanted was to be up all night listening to parties or getting contact highs through the thin walls—had creepy landlords, or looked like they’d fall apart five minutes after he moved in.

And in one particular case, the “apartment” had actually been a room in a man’s house, who hadn’t stopped staring at him and made Mason extremely uncomfortable, especially when he showed him their shared bathroom.

Shared. Bathroom.

As much as he had liked living in Ridgewood in the past, he was beginning to worry he wouldn’t be able to find something appropriate, not in the timetable Tomas had given him. He was already pushing a week, and even though no one had said anything to him yet, he knew it was coming.

He was taking up space in a clubhouse that didn’t belong to him, and he wasn’t paying rent or helping out in any other way. While he did his best to keep his head down and not cause any problems, there was no way they’d forgotten he was there.

He’d thought being right next door to Ollie would at least be nice and give them a chance to spend time together. And they had a little, but his friend was busier than he’d expected. He had his job that he went to, of course, and then in the evenings, he often had obligations for things that he’d agreed to or signed up for before he’d known Mason was coming.

Mason tried not to be jealous that most of the time, Ollie was going off and doing things with CJ, or CJ, Kenneth, and Emmett. He knew Ollie and CJ had grown especially close while he and Vinnie were gone, but living in CJ’s old room and watching the two of them sit huddled together in Ollie’s room or downstairs in one of the round booths, planning Tank’s birthday party and some sort of fundraiser, he couldn’t help the surges in envy he had.

At least he’d gotten to spend some time with Penny the night before, the two of them going out to eat and catching up. He’d found out she was seriously dating a member of the MC, and she’d confessed she’d met him after Ollie had finally worn her down and convinced her to come to one of the BDSM parties.

After everything she’d gone through with her ex, Mason was, of course, ecstatic for her, but a tiny kernel of resentment was starting to grow inside him toward the Devil’s Hands Motorcycle Club. It seemed like they were invading every corner of his life somehow, stealing all of his friends and sheltering him when he had nowhere else to go. He’d been so grateful he’d been allowed to stay, but now, he was wondering if it would have been better if he’d gotten a hotel or a short-term rental.

He slowly descended the stairs, lost in his tumultuous thoughts, until he neared the bottom and heard loud voices and laughter and came to a halt. Shit, he’d forgotten Ollie had said there was going to be some sort of gathering at the clubhouse that evening and that he and Six would be attending after they got back from a dinner date.

He wasn’t in the mood to pretend to be polite and friendly, not after the conversation he’d just had with Vinnie. All he wanted was some comfort food and then to curl up with his phone to scroll mindlessly on social media for the rest of the night. Maybe he’d plan some content for his channel, too, since he was going to have to start filming again really soon, nearly out of prerecorded videos.

The only way to get to the kitchen, though, was to pass through the main area of the clubhouse. There was no way he could get from the stairs to the kitchen and back without being spotted by somebody. He wasn’t sure what would be worse, being asked to join them and feeling like he had to or not being asked and feeling like even more of an outsider.

Dejected, heartsick, and hungry, he sat on the last step and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe how far off track his life had gotten.

A year ago, he’d been so excited when he and Vinnie had agreed to go on their adventure, and that’s what it had felt like. They were going to live somewhere else temporarily, experience a big city, new restaurants, clubs, meet interesting people, and then they would come home and go back to their hunt for finding the perfect Dom for the two of them.

But as the year had progressed, it had become glaringly obvious to Mason that he and Vinnie weren’t on the same path anymore. He wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, but based on parts of their fights, he had a feeling it was when he’d started becoming successful with his work. He hated the idea that Vinnie resented him making more money than he did, but it also didn’t make sense.

Yeah, Vinnie could be stubborn and pigheaded and occasionally even rude—though he was never cruel. He just got crabby sometimes. Vinnie had never learned how to just say what was wrong without first spending at least a few hours, if not days, being grumpy and sarcastic.

But he was also thoughtful and loving. He took care of Mason as best he could for nearly a decade. When Mason had floundered, trying to figure out his life, Vinnie had been a steady rock, supporting him and encouraging him, paying more than his fair share of the bills.

A part of Mason knew that something like this was inevitable. He’d ignored it, pretending they could go on the way they were indefinitely, but he’d always secretly known the truth, even when he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

They were too similar and yet too different, both subs desiring a guiding hand and the release that only came from completely giving yourself over to someone else but needing it in completely different ways.

There was no way they could be one hundred percent happy with only each other. But as the years had gone on and no Dom that either of them had liked or tried to bring into their relationship had worked out, the more frantic Mason had become to find their unicorn.

He was convinced the perfect man had to be out there for them, someone who could give both of them what they needed even though they were so different, but maybe Vinnie was right. Maybe holding out hope that there was someone out there, eager to explore all of the things he and Vinnie needed or wanted to try, was actually silly. Maybe he was being naïve. Maybe he should have⁠—

“Are you okay?”

Mason jerked his head up, and then up a little more until he finally met Tomas’s concerned gaze. “What?”

“I said are you okay? You’ve been sitting here for quite a while.”

Mason frowned and looked around. How had he missed Tomas standing there staring at him? “Sorry, I didn’t realize… Did you need to go upstairs?”

He started to stand, but Tomas waved him off. “No, I was just finishing up in my office and checked the new security cameras.”

“You have new security cameras?” He tried to remember if there had been old security cameras, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing any.

Tomas shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning one shoulder against the hall wall. “Yeah, and I replaced the gate so that it can be remotely opened and closed.”

“Well, that seems handy,” Mason said slowly, finally spotting the camera at the end of the hall pointed toward the stairs.

“So what has you sitting here all by yourself when your friends are out there?” Tomas pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, studying Mason in that way of his that made him feel exposed and vulnerable in the best way.

He laughed without much humor. “Those aren’t my friends. I mean, Ollie is, but I don’t really know everyone else.”

He pushed to his feet. Now that someone knew he’d just been sitting there, not moving, he felt like he should go and have his existential crisis in his room.

Tomas frowned and pushed upright, taking a step closer. “You didn’t really answer my question.”

He hadn’t, had he? Sighing, he shook his head. “It’s dumb. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Try me.”

Mason rolled his lips over his teeth, not sure he wanted to, yet the words were at the back of his throat, eager to come out and be shared. “I talked to Vinnie.”

“Is everything okay? Did you guys have another fight?” There was a furrow between Tomas’s thick brows, the lines on his forehead deepening. Even as he frowned at Mason, he was thought-stealingly handsome with his sexy beard and serious eyes.

And why was his body warming at the mere fact that this man, who barely knew him and was responsible for an entire motorcycle club, remembered that he and Vinnie had had a fight?

“Not another fight, more of an extension of the last one. I told him I wasn’t coming back, and if he wanted to try and work things out, he needed to come here and not go somewhere else for another year.”

An emotion he couldn’t pinpoint crossed over Tomas’ face before he cleared it away and nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Relationships are hard, but if you two are meant to be, I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

“Maybe,” he said softly, dropping his gaze to his feet. He hadn’t bothered to put shoes on, thinking he’d be able to sneak down and then right back up. He rubbed the bottom of one foot over the top of the other, feeling self-conscious for some reason. “Anyway, I just wasn’t feeling up to being around a bunch of other people, but I really wanted to get something to eat.”

Tomas didn’t say anything for a long minute, and then his black motorcycle boots came into Mason’s line of sight. “Go on back upstairs. I’ll bring you something.”

He jerked his head up. “No, you don’t have to do that. You’ve already done way too much for me. I can be a big boy and be social. It’s not that big of a⁠—”

“Hush,” Tomas said, one side of his mouth quirking up in a small half smile. “It’s not a big deal. My sister dropped off a bunch of tamales earlier. I’m just going to go warm some up for you. I’m not going to put together a five-course meal or anything.”

Freshly made tamales from his sister kind of sounded like a big deal, but he wasn’t sure why, really. He nodded slowly and took a step backward, nearly stumbling on the steps. Tomas’s hands shot out, grabbing his elbows and steadying him.

With a stern look, he turned Mason around to face the steps. “Watch where you’re going so you don’t get hurt.”

Mason couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder with a cheeky smile and saying, “Yes, sir.”

Tomas lowered his brows, but his lips twitched, and it was enough for Mason. He hurried up the steps and into his bedroom, looking around at the carnage he’d inflicted on the space.

Twice in the past week, he’d gone down to his car and brought up more stuff. There was still only really the bed, but now he had multiple suitcases open on the floor and clothes strewn about. His bed was also in complete disarray, looking like he’d gotten into a fight with his pillows in the middle of the night.

It turned out he was a restless sleeper when there wasn’t someone else in the bed with him.

He frantically worked to remake the bed and clean up the room, shoving stuff back into the suitcases without really paying attention to what was going where and then closed and zipped them as best he could. Then, he hustled into the bathroom and checked his appearance, fidgeting with his overly long hair and frowning at it. He really needed to get into Ollie’s chair and let him take off the little bit of length that was starting to curl. Vinnie wasn’t even there to appreciate it, so he wasn’t sure why he was hesitating.

Though he knew some of the people subscribed to his channel liked the longer hair too…

The upstairs of the clubhouse was so quiet he heard Tomas’s heavy footsteps before he reached the door and knocked, so Mason was waiting, opening the door a split second later.

Tomas stood there holding a tray with six tamales, an unopened bottle of beer, and a bottle of water. Mason quickly moved out of the way, and Tomas set the load on the end of the bed.

“They won’t be as good since I reheated them in the air fryer instead of a steamer, but I’m sure you’ll still like them. My sister’s tamales are almost as good as my abuela’s were.”

“High praise,” Mason said, closing the door to the hallway and stepping around Tomas to the edge of the bed.

Tomas glanced over at the door and then back at him, eyebrows raised. “Did you want me to stay while you ate?”

“Oh god.” Mason rushed back over to the door and whipped it open. “I’m so sorry. You brought so many tamales that I assumed you were going to eat with me. I’m sure you have much better things to do than hang out with the pathetic guest hiding out in your clubhouse. Please, tell your sister I really appreciate the food, and thank you for getting it for me. I should have said that before. I don’t think I did⁠—”

Callused fingers slipped over his mouth, silencing his babbling and stealing his breath from his lungs. He stared into Tomas’s laughing eyes, wondering if that salt-and-pepper beard would feel good if Tomas kissed him right then or if it would irritate his skin.

“I wasn’t sure how hungry you were, but I can stay and have one or two if you’d like.” He kept his fingers over Mason’s mouth for another moment, the air around them heating, filling with a delicious tension Mason hadn’t felt in a long time.

When he finally freed Mason’s lips, he couldn’t help but dart his tongue out to taste his bottom one. Then he sank his teeth into it, holding back a moan at the faint suggestion of tamales and cigarettes.

“I don’t want to put you out,” he whispered.

Tomas shook his head, holding Mason’s gaze captive. “You’re not. I’m a grown man. I know how to say no if I don’t want to do something.”

Jesus, why were those words sexy to him? The easy way Tomas carried himself, with such confidence and assuredness, was like an aphrodisiac to Mason, drawing him in, making him weak in the damn knees.

“I do owe you an apology,” Mason said, reaching back blindly and finding the edge of the door and swinging it shut.

“Why is that?”

“For still being here. I swear I’m looking. I just haven’t found anything that wasn’t atrocious yet.”

The corner of Tomas’s mouth tipped up. “Well, as much as it’s ruining my tough-guy reputation, I’d hate for you to have to live somewhere atrocious.”

The gentle teasing was too much for him. He couldn’t handle it. Not when he was already so off-kilter, staying in this place, barely speaking to his other half. He was discombobulated and unmoored. But the second he tipped himself against Tomas’s body, wrapping his arms around his waist and craning his head back to stare up into his surprised eyes, he felt steadier.

He knew in his gut Tomas was the kind of man who would keep a partner safe, protect them, give them support and stability, things Mason had craved since his parents had left him. Since Vinnie’s had told them they had to leave after they graduated high school. Since he realized college wasn’t for him and started bouncing from job to job.

“Mason,” Tomas breathed out as one of his hands gently cupped the back of Mason’s head. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Mason said honestly. “I don’t know anything anymore. Except…”

“Except what?” Tomas asked, his head lowering.

“Except that the world makes a little bit more sense when you smile at me, even when it’s at my own expense.”

“This is a bad idea, cielito. You’re in a bad place with Vinnie. I don’t want to get between you two.”

Mason made a soft, hungry noise just at the thought, and Tomas’s eyebrows winged upward.

“What was that for?”

Mason swallowed. “You’re right. Things are a mess between me and Vinnie right now, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of you for me to try and pursue what I’m sure would be a very delicious experience with you, but never think that the wrong place for you to be is between us.”

Tomas’s dark eyes roamed over his face, parsing through his words, and then he gave a quick nod. “I see.”

“Do you?” Mason asked hopefully.

“I think so. But this feels like a conversation that should have another person involved.”

Mason sagged, pressing his forehead against Tomas’s pec, and groaned unhappily. “You’re right. I don’t want to make things worse between me and him, and I don’t want to fuck up something that could be really good with you.”

“There’s no rush,” Tomas said softly, his fingers carding through his hair and then tightening for a brief second on the back of Mason’s neck. “There’s no timeline or deadline. You have to do what’s best for you, the both of you.”

He tipped his head back and met Tomas’s eyes once more, smiling. “Will you stay and eat with me?”

“Of course, cielito.”

CHAPTER 5

“Why are you calling me? You literally just left the diner.”

Tomas snorted. “Is that any way to greet your older brother when he calls?”

“It is when I saw him five minutes ago,” Jill sassed him.

He held back his laugh after years of practice, not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she was the funny one. “I forgot to ask you something. That’s obviously why I’m calling.”

“And here I thought it was because you remembered that you forgot to thank me for the tamales.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Jill. They were delicious.”

Mason thought so too.

He didn’t add that last part, but the reminder of the meal he’d shared with the gorgeous boy occupying a room in his clubhouse—and too much of his mental capacity—for the last few weeks made him recall the way Mason’s eyes had lit up as he’d scarfed down four out of six of them. He’d gushed out praise the entire time, going on and on about how delicious and spicy they were. Tomas had enjoyed watching him more than anything else, which had surprised him. His sister’s tamales oaxaqueños were delicious, the banana leaves instead of corn husks keeping them from getting as dry when reheated.

The fact he’d been more fascinated with Mason should have probably been concerning, but after finding Mason so dejected and then hearing him say Tomas’s smile made things a little better, he just couldn’t find it in him.

He was already so deep, and he hadn’t even kissed the boy yet.

Or met his other half.

“You’re welcome,” his sister said cheerfully. “Now, what did you forget to ask me?”

“Did Ollie invite you to Tank’s birthday party tonight?”

“He sure did. I told him I would bring some food since he said it wasn’t a gift sort of party.”

Tomas sighed. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea that you come… Did he at least tell you that it was an adults-only party?”

“Yes, hermano, he made that very clear,” Jill said, laughing. “Considering the things you’ve told me about the parties going on at your clubhouse—and all the rumors I hear at the diner—David and I only plan to stay for maybe an hour. Then we’ll head out before anything too crazy starts to happen.”

Knowing Ollie, there was no guarantee of that, but Tomas accepted it.

When the club had first started having their BDSM education classes and then parties, he’d been reluctant to let his sister and her husband know. He wasn’t ashamed of his interests, and they already knew he was poly, so it wasn’t like one more revelation would come as a shock, but the hedonistic intimacy of the parties made it uncomfortable for him to imagine his sister in the same environment.

No matter how old she got—or how much she teased him by saying she and David had a very healthy sex life—he just couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of it. But he’d still told her, mostly for the very reason she’d just said.

He’d known word would get out in the community since they were inviting people from outside the club to come to the parties. The last thing he’d wanted was for her to find out from someone else. Luckily, she’d told him she and David had no interest in attending any classes or parties like that, and so it had been a nonstarter.

Unlike what had happened to his best friend, Demarcus.

D’s sister, Cynthia, was the club’s lawyer, and her partner, Tay, worked at the tattoo shop run by their club’s Sergeant-At-Arms, Viper. Tay and Cynthia had been together for quite a while, despite D wanting to keep the club life away from his sister. He’d been furious when Tomas had hired Cyn, wanting someone he could trust and who was like family to him, to protect the club legally.

But D had nearly gone ballistic the first time Cyn and Tay had shown up to one of his classes. Luckily, D’s friend Zachary, who’d been helping with the education classes, had stepped in and reminded Houston that BDSM was for everyone, then told him that if he had a problem with that, he needed to go kick rocks.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” Tomas said. “Things tend to get a little wild around there nowadays whenever there’s more than a half dozen people.”

“And here I thought things just got wild when Ollie was around,” Jill said, a smile clear in her voice.

“That’s true,” Tomas grumbled, though really, he didn’t mind Ollie and his spiritedness, even if it did interrupt his day more often than not. “But even without him there, there tends to be a lot of⁠—”

“Freaky sex stuff?” Jill snickered.

He rolled his eyes, slowing as he saw a car pulled over on the side of the road ahead. “So mature.”

“Not as mature as you, big brother.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She loved to tease him about being ten years older than her.

Lately though, the jokes hadn’t been hitting quite as humorously as they had in the past. He was starting to feel his age in a way he hadn’t before. When he’d slid past forty-five and still not been in a long-term relationship—or even seeming to make progress on one—it had hit him hard, making him wonder ever since if it just wasn’t in the cards for him.

He’d always have his brothers and sisters of the Devil’s Hands. Not to mention Jill and her family and his mom, who’d moved out to Arizona a few years back, tired of the Michigan winters, but who he worried nonstop about being all alone thousands of miles away.

“Listen, I gotta let you go. Looks like someone’s having car trouble.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said, sobering quickly. “Be safe, but see if you can help. Maybe get that garage of yours finished one of these days too.”

“From your lips to Remi’s ears.”

She laughed, told him she loved him, and then hung up. He tossed his phone onto the seat next to him and tugged at the tie strangling him.

He slowed his truck and pulled over to the right side, putting his hazards on. The car in front of him was at least ten years old, though it didn’t look to be in too terrible of condition other than the flat tire. The car’s driver was leaning his head out the window, craning back to look at him.

He had warm brown skin, a dark gray knit hat pulled down low over his ears, and a fierce scowl on his handsome face. He looked like he was maybe in his mid to late twenties, with sharp cheekbones and a strong chin.

Tomas pulled his tie off completely and threw it into the seat next to him, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt. He grabbed his leather jacket and stepped out of his truck, pulling it on over his white button-up. He’d worn a suit to the diner so he would look like a well-respected member of the community while the head of the county health department had redone their inspection. Tomas wasn’t so sure it was the tie that had convinced the guy not to fuck around with them again or if it was Tomas staring him down the entire time, arms crossed over his wide chest.

But all he’d dinged them for was a couple of small things instead of the major shit the last person had made up. It wasn’t the first time someone in the community had gone after one of the club’s businesses, though most people didn’t know that his sister’s diner was among those that the club helped and owned a part of. Members frequented it often enough that it probably had been a pretty easy guess, especially if people knew where to dig up the paperwork.

Tomas had been fending off attacks against the club since he’d started the chapter, but things had increased in the last year. A new mayor had been elected last fall, along with a hard-ass sheriff. The two had made no secret of their distaste for the motorcycle club in their midst, the sheriff running on a campaign of cleaning up the county of the degenerates putting their families at risk.

Fearmongering bullshit was what it was, but it had been effective enough to boot the former sheriff out of the job, and the new guy, Keith Winters, had been gunning for them ever since.

Tomas strode toward the car, the hard crust on top of the snow crunching beneath his boots.

The guy lifted his eyes to Tomas’s face, a frown tugging at his lips. “I’m fine. I’m just waiting for a tow.”

Nodding, Tomas eyed the flat. “You don’t have a spare?”

The guy shook his head. “Would I be just sitting here if I did?”

Snorting, Tomas studied the car for another second. “Can you pop the trunk for me?”

“No,” the guy said, looking at Tomas like he was insane. “Listen, man, I don’t know if this is some sort of Good Samaritan complex or if you plan on shoving me in that trunk and taking me back to your lair to murder me, but I said I’m fine. You don’t have to stick around.”

Tomas laughed—like, honest to god laughed. The mouth on this boy. “I just wanted to check and see if you had a spare in the trunk.”

“Don’t you think I would have noticed?” he said as he reached down and yanked on the lever to pop open the trunk. He shoved the door open so fast it nearly clipped Tomas as he jumped out of the way, and then he slammed it shut and stalked to the back of the car. “Do you think I’m some sort of idiot that I can’t see what’s in my own trunk?”

He was wearing the knit hat, but he hadn’t grabbed his coat when he jumped out of his car in a huff, and Tomas got lost for a second, staring at those well-built shoulders perfectly encased in a thin, long-sleeved shirt, long legs, and an ass that filled out his jeans like it was a gift from god. While Tomas was busy drooling over the angry man, he gripped the edge of the trunk and threw it open.

He disappeared behind it, and as Tomas reached the back of the car, the guy shoved a heavy suitcase into Tomas’s chest. He grabbed at it, making sure it didn’t hit the ground and get covered in dirty snow, and then the boy waved at the trunk. It still had some stuff in it, but without the huge suitcase, it was mostly empty.

“Do you see a damn tire? Or a jack? Because a spare tire in and of itself wouldn’t be that useful, would it? I might not be an expert on changing them, but even I know I can’t hold a car up with one hand and change the flat out with my other.”

Tomas ran his tongue over his top teeth, letting his gaze roam over the grumpy boy once more, this time from the front, which meant the guy actually saw it. He didn’t look flattered though. If anything, it pissed him off even more.

Why was that so hot to Tomas?

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Tomas said slowly, unable to stop his filthy mind from imagining all the fun ways he could work the aggression out of the young man.

“Oh, please, help yourself,” he said sarcastically, but he’d take it.

Tomas held out the suitcase with one hand, and that got the boy’s attention, his eyes widening briefly and running up the length of Tomas’s arm, seeming to take note of the size of him for the first time.

Clearing his throat, he took the suitcase from Tomas with both hands and stepped out of the way. Tomas carefully shuffled some of the other things—including a pair of running shoes, what was probably a toiletry bag, and a bundle of reusable grocery bags—out of his way, and then he popped open the bottom of the trunk to reveal the compartment beneath, finding a spare tire and a jack.

The suitcase smashed to the ground behind him, and the guy stumbled forward, meeting Tomas next to the open truck. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he breathed out, shaking his head. “How in the hell did you know that was there? I’ve owned this car for seven years, and I had no idea.”

Tomas smiled at him and shrugged. “I know a thing or two about cars. It’s no big deal. Why don’t you get back inside your car where it’s warm, and I’ll get it changed out for you out in no time.”

Shaking off his shock, he turned to Tomas and planted his hands on his hips. “What makes you think I can’t change it myself?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tomas said, holding his eyes. They were dark, almost black, but full of life. This boy wasn’t playing at being annoyed. He was, but he wasn’t just annoyed at Tomas’s insistence on helping. The quick glances to his shoulders and thighs let him know he was also annoyed that he was attracted to Tomas.

“Well, you implied it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said, his own temper flaring. “You’re standing out here without a jacket in the middle of February. You want do it? That’s fine. But you’re gonna grab a coat and gloves, and I’m going to help you so we can both get out of the cold faster.”

He swallowed thickly, staring up at Tomas with an expression he couldn’t read. Finally, he said, “You shouldn’t just boss people around. It’s rude.”

It was not at all what he was expecting the guy to say, and it gave him pause. “My sister would agree with you,” he said slowly, “but it’s a hazard of my occupation. You get used to being the boss.”

“Well, you should listen to your sister. It sounds like she’s smarter than you. And maybe learn to turn that trait off when you’re not at work.”

Sounds like she’s smarter than you. Shit, he loved the mouth on this boy.

“Are we doing this together, or are you going to let me do it myself?” Tomas said, not rising to the bait.

“Together. I don’t trust you not to tamper with the new one, then follow me into field and⁠—”

“Drag you back to my lair and kill you,” Tomas finished for him.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Let’s get to work, then. I’ve got someplace I’ve gotta be.”

With one more wary look, the guy darted back to the front of the car, opening the driver’s-side door and leaning in. Tomas watched, running his teeth over his bottom lip as he unabashedly stared at the way he stuck his ass out in the air. He didn’t bother disguising the fact that he was looking, so when the guy climbed back out of his car, thick parka in hand, he caught Tomas red-handed.

He huffed, pulling on his coat with jerky motions, and then stomped back over toward him. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it was rude to stare at someone?”

Tomas pretended to think about it as he pulled out the spare tire and jack. “You know, I don’t think she did, but she did teach me to show appreciation for beautiful things.”

The guy stumbled, catching himself on the side of the car and jerking his head up to stare at Tomas for a long moment. There was no way no one had called him beautiful before. With his bone structure, long legs, and plump ass, it was impossible. So he wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much. Instead of pushing his luck to try and find out, Tomas got to work.

Even though it was apparent very quickly the guy had no idea how to change a tire, Tomas didn’t give him a hard time about it. He patiently explained each thing he did just in case he needed to know for in the future.

When they were finished, he stored the jack and the flat in the compartment in the trunk and then hefted the suitcase back inside after brushing off as much snow as he could so it wouldn’t get everything else inside wet.

He closed the trunk, gave it a pat, and then turned and found the guy watching him, that same strange expression from earlier on his face.

“You’re all set,” Tomas said. “But spares aren’t meant to be driven on for long, so make sure you get a new one.”

Whatever emotion the guy had been feeling, he shook it off and rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, Dad. I know that.”

Tomas cocked his head and then moved toward him, slowly, just in case the guy really was scared Tomas would murder him. He backed him right up against his car and planted his hands on either side of his body. They weren’t touching anywhere, but he knew he had to feel caged in. Tomas was bigger, taller, stronger, but he didn’t tell him to back off. Didn’t shove at Tomas’s chest. Didn’t lash out with angry words. His chest moved a little faster as he stared into Tomas’s eyes though.

He was probably only three or four inches shorter, but this close, it felt like more, like he was towering over the boy. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to say thank you?”

He knew immediately the words were a mistake. The young man flinched, breaking their eye contact.

“Hey,” he said softly, pressing the side of one knuckle against his chin to urge him to lift his face. The beautiful boy sucked in a breath and met his eyes again. There was a new wariness there that hadn’t been before, and Tomas silently cursed himself.

“Thank you,” he said, a dullness in his voice Tomas didn’t like.

“You’re welcome, gatito.”

He almost asked what his name was and if he was from around there or just driving through. He could request his number, maybe see if he was interested in going on a date to scold him some more.

But in the end, he didn’t ask anything. He held his tongue, letting the moment between them surge with tension and then ease back down as neither one made a move to close the distance between them.

Shit was already complicated enough in his life. Mason hadn’t told him when—or if—Vinnie was coming back to Michigan, so the chemistry between them was stuck in a holding pattern. It didn’t feel right to try and drag this boy into the middle of things, even with his sharp little claws.

He should probably back off from Mason too, considering he didn’t know what was happening with his maybe ex, even if he’d implied they’d be open to a third in their relationship. Keeping space between them until he moved out of the clubhouse would be the smart play, but he couldn’t forget the way Mason had looked, sitting on the steps, hungry but too tired to face his friends hanging out fifty feet away from him.

Smart or not, he didn’t seem to have it in him to walk away, and as fascinated as he was with this boy’s mouth and attitude—and as much as he wanted to see if he’d push back or immediately cave under Tomas’s firm hand—it wasn’t meant to be.

“I gotta go,” he said softly, his voice a little brusque.

“Okay,” he said softly, all the sharpness from before having melted away.

“Remember what I said about getting a new tire.”

Some of the brattiness came back, and he rolled his eyes at Tomas, but there was a little twitch in the corner of his mouth. “I will.”

“Take care of yourself, gatito.”

He turned and walked away, wondering if he was making a mistake.

Because it sure fucking felt like it.

CHAPTER 6

Vinnie slowly pulled around the Devil’s Garrote—a bar Ollie and Mason had banned him from after one tiny incident involving a fight—and followed a narrow road that went farther back, past where he assumed employees parked, and toward a large square-shaped building.

The parking lot was surprisingly full, considering it was only late afternoon. He didn’t see many motorcycles, probably because of the weather, but there were cars and trucks of every shape and model parked all around the large lot.

As he neared a tall chain-link fence that served as a gate, it slid open, even though he didn’t see anyone, but two oncoming headlights let him know someone was leaving. He pulled as close as he could to the edge to allow the large truck to move past him, but it slowed, the driver’s window rolling down.

Biting back a sigh, he lowered his own and peered up at the scowling face looking down at him.

“This is a private club. Bar’s back behind you.”

Vinnie put on his best “I’m here to save your life” smile he’d developed over years of working in healthcare. “I know! I’m a friend of Ollie’s.”

The guy’s frown immediately eased, and he nodded. “You’re here to help set up for the party?”

He had no idea what party the guy was talking to, but he quickly nodded, turning up the wattage on his smile. “Yup. He called in reinforcements.”

The guy snorted and shook his head. “Unsurprising. For whatever reason, he’s going all out for Tank’s birthday. Go ahead and head on in. Last I saw him, he was near the bar, directing Rooster and Houston on how incorrectly they were hanging a banner.”

That got a genuine smile out of Vinnie. Sounded exactly like his friend. Ollie could be incredibly kind and thoughtful but also bossy as hell. He’d only gotten to meet his boyfriend, Six, once, but the impression he had of the biker was that he could handle Ollie even at his most bratty. The fact that he was jealous was something he had kept to himself.

He carefully maneuvered his car into an empty spot and grabbed his scarf and gloves—which he’d refused on principle to put on when he’d been ordered to bundle up by that big, burly, sexy-as-sin man wearing nothing but dark jeans, a button-up shirt, and a leather jacket.

Vinnie shivered at the memory of how close he’d stood right before he’d left, caging him in and making him feel tiny and submissive. Things he hadn’t felt in a long time. Things he had no business feeling with some stranger on the side of the road who could have been an axe murderer. He shoved the man out of his head. Sexy, older Latinos weren’t on the menu for the day; Mason was.

He needed to figure out how to fix them, even if Mason didn’t want to. Because he’d realized as they’d gone into their second week apart he needed Mason, even if Mason no longer needed him.

And that was… terrifying.

It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to need someone. There had been no point after his parents had made it clear they weren’t welcome in their house any longer, kicking him and Mason to the curb and never speaking to them again.

As much as he loved Mason, he’d been the one who was needed, providing the stability that Mason had craved as he slingshot from one job to the next, one Dom to the next, and that’s the way he’d liked it.

But over the last couple of years, things had started to change without him noticing, at least not consciously, but in the back of his head, a part of him had known and had rebelled and then run scared. That same part of him had done its best to ruin the one friendship, the one relationship, he’d been able to count on for pretty much his whole life.

And even though it still scared him to know that, between the two of them, he needed Mason more than Mason needed him, pretending otherwise wasn’t an option anymore. Acting like he would be fine on his own also wasn’t an option anymore.

The last three weeks had shown him that.

Sure, he’d gone to work and come home and fed himself and bathed, but everything had felt empty, hollow in a way he’d never experienced. Without Mason’s spark of joy keeping him afloat, he’d begun to sink, falling into the depths of meaninglessness and slowly encroaching on despair. He knew it wasn’t fair to put all that on Mason, that he needed to make sure he gave as much as he took, that he fueled that spark, not just coveted it.

At the end of the day, he still needed to make sure Mason took him back. If he wanted to find a third for their relationship, then Vinnie would grit his teeth and agree. There wasn’t anything he could imagine not agreeing to to get Mason back at that point.

As he approached the door of the clubhouse, it burst open, and a group of white men in their forties came tumbling out. They were laughing at something, and Vinnie immediately bristled, wondering if they were laughing at Ollie and the care he was going to give his friend CJ’s husband a fantastic birthday party. When they saw him, they slowed.

The man in the front, with a graying beard and weathered skin, cocked his head. “You looking for someone?”

Vinnie lifted his chin. “Ollie.”

The three of them nodded, wide smiles spreading on their faces. “He’s inside,” the same guy said. “He just sent us to go and get…” He turned to one of the guys behind him. “What the fuck are we supposed to be gettin’ again?”

The man also had a beard, but it was thick and black, just like the long hair on his head. He had to be at least six five and heavyset. He was a sexy bear of a man, but—and Vinnie hated to admit it—he wasn’t drawn to him as much as the man who’d stopped to help him change his tire.

The bear pulled out his phone and read off, “Piping tips. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Vinnie’s eyes widened. “It takes three of you to go buy piping tips?”

The third man, who hadn’t said anything yet, laughed and shook his head. “No, I gotta get to work. These two jokers though, we’ll be lucky if they make it back before the party starts.”

Gray Beard swung an elbow back but missed as the tall, thin man laughed and jumped backward.

Vinnie could barely hold in his surprise. Where were the surly bikers angry about a queer twink invading their space and ordering them around?

“Try the baking section,” Vinnie offered, and they all focused on him.

Dark Beard ran his eyes over Vinnie’s body, subtly but with clear interest. “You wanna ditch setting up and come help us?”

Vinnie pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I should really get inside. The piping tips are for squeezing frosting out of a plastic bag and onto cakes and cupcakes in a specific pattern. They’re usually metal.”

The guy who was going to work nodded hurriedly. “I wonder if Emmett has some. He’s supposed to be coming when he gets off work, right?”

Gray Beard already had his phone out. “He definitely does. Remember those cookies he made last week?”

The other two guys both groaned appreciatively.

“I’m so pissed I only got one,” the skinny guy said, heading off toward a vehicle. “Maybe suggest he make more sometime soon.”

The other two chuckled and started moving in the opposite direction. The man with the dark beard glanced back at Vinnie and smiled, giving him a quick wink and then hurrying after his friend.

Vinnie shook his head at their antics and pulled open the door to the clubhouse. Inside, the large open space was full of light and bustling with activity. Several men were moving around furniture. Others were blowing up balloons and tying strings to them. A woman with short hair dyed a vibrant purple barked orders at a couple of younger people who were setting out plates, cups, cutlery, and large dishes that would be filled with food later.

And just like the man in the truck had said, Ollie and another young man Vinnie recognized from their video chats stood near the back, heads tipped up as they looked at a crooked banner being hung by a large Black man and a white guy with long hair pulled up into a messy bun. He knew from some of his conversations with Ollie the dark-skinned man was Houston, which made the other guy Rooster.

He slowly approached, looking all around the room to try and pinpoint Mason but not seeing him. He wasn’t sure where he could be. There was no way he’d be hiding out in his room upstairs while there was a party being set up by one of their best friends down here.

Then again, he’d barely talked to Mason the last couple of weeks, the two of them doing nothing more than exchanging a handful of text messages, not FaceTiming or talking on the phone after that first disastrous time. Maybe Mason was on a date, or he’d moved out, or he was getting dicked down by a biker somewhere in the clubhouse.

It wasn’t that Vinnie didn’t want Mason to have fun and all the sex he wanted, but they’d had an agreement since they were twenty and had decided they would be more than just best friends who slept in the same bed and sometimes had sex. While they looked for someone who could give them the things they wanted but couldn’t give each other, they weren’t supposed to hook up with anyone without letting the other person know.

If it was someone they had real feelings for, there was supposed to be a lengthier conversation first, but Vinnie didn’t know if those rules applied anymore. Mason had left him, after all. Maybe he had left their relationship as well and felt like he could fuck anyone he wanted, and it wasn’t Vinnie’s business.

“Rooster, you have to go higher on your side. Houston, stop fucking moving your end,” Ollie called out, exasperated.

The two men chuckled, and a second later, the banner was miraculously exactly level.

Ollie planted his hands on his slim hips and stomped one of his boot-covered feet. “Were you two fucking with me? Do I look like I’m in the mood to be fucked with right now?”

CJ clapped a hand over his mouth, but it didn’t stop the sound of his laughter from escaping.

Ollie turned on his friend. “Et tu?”

CJ waved his free hand before speaking against his fingers in a muffled voice. “No, no, you’re right. This is very serious business.”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Ollie spun on his heel, no doubt intent on storming away to go bully someone else into doing what he wanted, but he screeched to a halt when he saw Vinnie standing five feet behind him.

“Hey, Ollie.”

“Vinnie, what the hell are you doing here?”

CJ turned and stared at him, his jaw slackened. “Holy shit,” he whispered as the two men hanging the banner descended from where they’d been standing on the bar top.

“Everything okay?” Houston said as he eyed Vinnie.

Ollie shook off his surprise, darted forward, and wrapped Vinnie in a tight hug. “I fucking hope so,” he muttered. When they separated, he gave Vinnie a slight shove. “You’re here to fix things, right?”

Vinnie nodded. “I am.”

“Glad you finally got your head out of your ass.”

“Boy, I know you aren’t the one I’ve been hearing cussing from across the room,” a low, growly voice said.

Six came up behind Vinnie. He upnodded Vinnie as he glanced over, seeming completely unsurprised at his appearance. The large biker threaded his fingers into Ollie’s hair and gripped tightly, tipping his head back. “Do I need to take you upstairs for a time-out?”

Ollie licked his lips, and the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees. Vinnie was no prude, but watching the two of them felt incredibly intimate. He glanced around and saw that Rooster and Houston had moved on, ignoring the two of them, and CJ was rolling his eyes.

When his gaze connected with Vinnie’s, he moved forward and held out a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“You too,” Vinnie said, giving him a quick shake. He ignored the soft gasp he heard from Ollie, keeping his attention on CJ. “Is Mason around? I was hoping to talk to him.”

CJ didn’t say anything for a moment, his friendly smile staying perfectly in place. Vinnie got the very distinct impression he was being evaluated. He couldn’t even be offended. He knew Mason was incredibly easy to like and care about, so the fact CJ was trying to decide whether he was worthy of knowing where Mason was made him feel a little bit better about their time away from each other.

Though he couldn’t also help but wish he had that for himself. Too bad his personality didn’t tend to make fast friends like Mason’s did.

Before CJ could decide on telling him or not, Ollie popped up next to him, a flush in his cheekbones and hair a little mussed. “He had to go and get more helium for the balloons. He should be back in about half an hour.”

While he was a little disappointed at missing him, a larger part of him was grateful for the reprieve, which made him feel like a shitty person. He’d had nearly three weeks to figure out what to say; he shouldn’t need another thirty minutes.

He pulled his scarf out from under the collar of his coat and shoved it in his pocket before unzipping his jacket. “Is there somewhere I can wait? After I talk to him, I can leave. I understand if you’d rather I not⁠—”

Before he could finish, Ollie cut him off. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I want you here. I didn’t want you to go in the first place.”

That was true. Ollie had tried to hide how upset he’d been, but hiding his feelings wasn’t exactly a strong suit of his, and it hadn’t taken long before he’d broken down and asked him and Mason to stay.

And then the entire year they were gone, Ollie had gone out of his way to stay connected to them, to let them know he couldn’t wait for them to come back home. It was unfair of Vinnie to assume that just because he and Mason were fighting, that meant Ollie didn’t want to be friends with him anymore or want him around.

“You’re right, sorry. Everything’s just weird right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna make it better,” Ollie said, making it clear it wasn’t really a suggestion. “But until then…”

“How many cupcakes are we making?” Vinnie asked, swiping at his forehead as he set down the tray of another dozen.

A ridiculously good-looking white man—named Knuckles, of all things—looked up from the list he had been checking. “About a hundred, but I’m wondering if we should do a few dozen more. Better to have too much than run out, don’t you think?”

Vinnie eyed the state of the kitchen. The clubhouse had a full-on, industrial-style kitchen in the very back of the huge building, equipped with a massive stovetop range, multiple ovens, and two double fridges. Instead of allowing him to go and sulk somewhere as he waited to talk to Mason, Ollie had put him to work, helping Knuckles bake the cupcakes for the party, promising him that Emmett would be there as soon as he got off work to help them frost and decorate.

He’d been back there nearly an hour, but Mason hadn’t come in.

He couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d come back but had decided he didn’t want to talk to Vinnie. Then again, there was just as good a chance that Ollie wanted him to keep working and so hadn’t told Mason he was here.

“What are we at?” Vinnie said as he went over to one of the two stand mixers on the counter. He removed the bowl and brought it over to the prepped tins with papers in them, ready for batter to be scooped into them.

“That will make six dozen,” Knuckles said, pointing to the cupcake tin Vinnie was filling.

Vinnie looked up at the ceiling as he figured out how many that was. “Okay, do we have time to do another four or five dozen?”

Knuckles shrugged. “Probably. The party doesn’t technically start until nine, so I think they’re going to put food out around eight.”

Nine o’clock seemed late to start a birthday party to him, but he didn’t say that.

It must have been clear on his face, though, because when Knuckles glanced at him, he chuckled and said, “There were a few people who had to work. To make it as easy as possible for as many people as possible, Ollie set the time for nine.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t going to be like a… traditional birthday party,” Vinnie said, keeping his attention on the paper cups he was filling with the chocolate batter.

Knuckles snorted and took the other mixing bowl to the sink to give it a wash so he could start up the next batch. “You could say that again. Lately, all of the parties around here have gotten pretty wild.”

“So I’ve heard,” Vinnie said neutrally.

Neither one of them said anything for a few minutes, the only sounds Knuckles scrubbing and the soft country music he’d had playing since before Vinnie arrived.

“If you’re not comfortable with it, you don’t have to stay,” Knuckles finally offered. “I don’t usually.”

Vinnie looked up at him, but Knuckles wasn’t paying him any attention, working extra hard to scrub clean the metal bowl and whisk. “I appreciate you saying that,” he offered. “I’m not new to kink, but I don’t know most of these people, so it probably would be a little weird for me to stay if things got too wild.”

If he hadn’t been watching, he wouldn’t have seen the way Knuckles’s shoulders relaxed at his easy words. He wondered if the biker had expected Vinnie to question him or maybe tease him for not hanging out with the rest of the club as they leaned into their hedonistic ways. But Vinnie understood not everyone liked the public aspect of being in the scene, and it was valid. While people like Mason and Ollie adored the attention and were turned on by being watched by others, Vinnie didn’t feel that way, and maybe Knuckles didn’t either.

The things he wanted, the things he craved, were private to him. He never really had any interest in doing them publicly. Whenever a partner in the past had asked, he usually said yes but didn’t get as much enjoyment or pleasure out of the scenes as he did when they were done behind a closed door. The insistence on doing scenes publicly had ended multiple relationships with potential Doms.

“So, what’s the craziest tattoo you’ve ever done?” Vinnie asked, hoping the change of subject would help loosen Knuckles up again. He’d been incredibly funny and appreciative of his help from the moment Ollie shoved him in the kitchen, and Vinnie wanted to make sure he knew that his preferences really didn’t bother him.

Knuckles laughed. “How much time do you have?”

Vinnie smiled, finished filling the second tray, and opened the oven door. “Well, apparently, we’re going to be here for a while, finishing up all these damn cupcakes.”

“Okay, so this one time,” Knuckles started, but the door that led out to the main area of the clubhouse swung open, and there was Mason, eyes wide and jacket still zipped up to his throat. He had a plastic shopping bag clutched in one of his hands.

“Vin?”

Vinnie closed the oven door and glanced at Knuckles, who was smiling at him understandingly. “I’ll be back to help finish—and for some of those stories.”

Knuckles nodded, drying off the bowl he’d just cleaned. “I’ll be here.”

Vinnie moved across the kitchen, closing the gap between him and Mason. “Hey, Mase. How are you?”

“When did you… I can’t believe you’re here.”

Shrugging, he shoved his hands into his pockets, wanting to pull Mason into a hug but unsure if it’d be welcomed. “My last day was Wednesday, but I had most of the apartment packed up beforehand, so I left yesterday morning. I stopped around Columbus last night and then got here earlier today. I would have been here a little earlier, but I had a little car trouble.”

Mason took an unsteady step toward him, fingers reaching out and snagging Vinnie’s shirt, his knuckles brushing against his abs. “What kinda car trouble?”

“Just a flat,” Vinnie said, averting his eyes when he inevitably thought about his sexy Good Samaritan.

“What was that?” Mason asked softly.

Vinnie shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Yeah, we should be able to⁠—”

There was a loud commotion from out in the main area. They exchanged a glance and then darted out of the kitchen doorway, trying to see what was causing the ruckus. It took Vinnie a moment to pinpoint what the source was because most of the people in the room had crowded around the entrance, blocking his view. And then, like a parting sea, a gap appeared between some of the bikers, and there he was, the man who’d stopped to check on him and then stayed to help even after Vinnie had been less than gracious.

But he didn’t look the same as he had a few hours ago.

Blood droplets stained his white button-up at the collar and a few spots over his left pec. He held an ice pack to his eye, his bottom lip visibly swollen from all the way across the room.

Vinnie was moving before he realized it, Mason keeping pace with him at first but then falling behind as Vinnie picked up his stride, practically running across the clubhouse.

Just as he shoved his way forward, the man looked up, and their eyes connected. Like the first time he’d seen him, Vinnie had a visceral reaction, his gut filling with butterflies and his chest going a little tight. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of him, barely noticing as the people around them quieted down and stared.

Carefully, he removed the ice pack, a bolt of lightning shooting down his arm when his hand covered his Good Samaritan’s and used his hold on it to get a better view of the battered skin beneath.

His left eye was purple and swollen, with another bruise forming on his cheekbone. There was a small cut slicing through his eyebrow, and it was still weeping blood. Behind his salt-and-pepper beard, his bottom lip was puffy and split.

Someone had hit him. Repeatedly. They’d battered his beautiful face.

Anger coursed through Vinnie, lighting up his veins and making his hands shake. “Who did this to you?”

CHAPTER 7

Mason’s head was spinning.

Vinnie was there. He was in the clubhouse, helping Knuckles make cupcakes and sporting a smear of vanilla batter on one of his perfect cheekbones.

He was still one of the most beautiful people Mason had ever seen.

When a commotion broke out in the main area of the clubhouse, he and Vinnie checked to see what was going on. He spotted Tomas and his bloody face and started forward, fear rippling through him, but his steps slowed when Vinnie surpassed him, practically sprinting across the open space and pushing his way through the crowd. He walked right up to Tomas like he had every right to see the damage.

Mason stopped near the back of the group of onlookers and watched in complete shock as Vinnie gently touched Tomas’s hand and moved the ice pack to inspect his face. He shivered at Vinnie’s dark tone when he asked Tomas who had hurt him. It was a voice he’d rarely heard from him and one where he was usually so angry he became reckless, but it was never for himself. It had only ever been in defense of Mason.

Tomas smiled at Vinnie, the same sort of half grin he’d been giving Mason for weeks, and gripped the tip of Vinnie’s chin to hold his face still. “I’m fine, gatito. You should see the other guy.”

Mason jolted. He didn’t know what the endearment meant, but it was clear that, somehow, the two of them knew each other. He didn’t know how or when that could have happened. Had Vinnie been there longer than he’d said, arriving maybe earlier in the week and running into Tomas somewhere? But why would Vinnie lie to him?

The two of them were sharing an intimate moment, and Mason didn’t know what to think or how to react. A weird mix of excitement and jealousy was swirling in his gut, and everyone was just staring at the two of them until the moment was broken by Ollie saying loudly, “What the hell is happening?”

Vinnie jerked backward out of Tomas’s hold and put a few feet of space between them, looking around with horror on his face. He beelined for Mason, but Mason couldn’t look away from Tomas as he watched Vinnie’s ass and then raised his gaze to find Mason staring at him.

There was something in his eyes, a question, like maybe he didn’t understand what was going on either, but he was more than okay with it.

“That’s a great question,” Mason said, his tone frostier than he’d intended. “How do you two know each other?”

“We don’t know each other,” Vinnie said quickly, shaking his head.

Only because Mason had known him his entire life did he realize that Vinnie was embarrassed. There was the tiniest flush in his cheeks and a small twist to his mouth, but the giveaway was his hands, his fingers twitching as he fought the instinct to cover his face to hide.

“We know each other a little,” Tomas argued, his smile widening to a shit-eating grin when Vinnie scowled at him.

Six stepped forward, frowning at Ollie for swearing before turning to Tomas and lifting his chin. “You alright?”

Tomas nodded. “Fine. Nothing some ice and time won’t fix.”

Six didn’t say anything, but he turned and moved across the clubhouse, sending a look to the rest of the crowd still gathered around that sent them scurrying away as well. Ollie didn’t move, his hands crossed over his chest as he stared expectantly between Vinnie and Tomas until his daddy’s deep voice called for him from across the room.

“Ollie.”

Sighing unhappily, Ollie dropped his arms, gave Mason and Vinnie a look that said, I’ll be getting all the tea very soon, and then hurried after Six.

Tomas eyed the two of them for a moment before tossing the disposable ice pack into a nearby trash can and pointing toward the back of the room where his office was. “Let’s go talk.”

He led the way, expecting them both to follow without question. Mason was three steps away before Vinnie grabbed his wrist, pulling him to a halt. He looked back, furrowing his brows in question.

“I didn’t know he belonged to this club,” Vinnie said in a hushed tone. “I didn’t know that you knew him.”

“Okay. Did you guys sleep together at some point that I’m not aware of?”

That was against their rules, but maybe Vinnie didn’t think their rules applied anymore? Maybe he didn’t consider them a couple anymore.

“What? No,” Vinnie said, moving forward until they were only a few inches apart, his hand sliding down to clasp Mason’s reassuringly. “No, I just meant… Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

It did matter, he wanted to scream. Everything mattered. Vinnie kept saying that, kept brushing aside his own thoughts, his own feelings, and hiding himself from Mason, but after having space for nearly a month, he was beginning to realize Vinnie wasn’t just hiding from him. Mason was pretty sure he was hiding from himself.

“Boys,” Tomas called in a no-nonsense voice, and Mason couldn’t help it. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and grinned at Vinnie.

“Don’t, Mase,” Vinnie said. “I don’t want you getting your hopes up.”

“Too late,” Mason whispered, then turned and sped off to where Tomas had disappeared, dragging Vinnie behind him.

As soon as they were in Tomas’s office, he shut the door, but he didn’t move farther into the room, not sure exactly what Tomas had in mind. The club’s President was perched on the edge of his desk, long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed and hands planted on either side of him on the desktop. He was watching the two of them closely, studying them, his eyes dropping to their clasped hands and then traveling back up, moving between their faces.

He pointed to the two chairs in front of him, and Mason noticed they were closer together than they had been the couple of times he’d been in the office and a little farther from the desk. He tugged Vinnie over with him and sank into a seat. Vinnie sighed and flopped into the other one.

Mason watched Tomas, eager to see how he would handle Vinnie when he was being a brat.

He didn’t react.

Mason wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“I should have known it was you,” Tomas said, eyes locked on Vinnie, who was looking away from him, hands clenched on the arms of his chair.

Vinnie scoffed. “How could you possibly have known it was me?”

“I’ve been hearing about your gorgeous face and sky-high cheekbones from Ollie for a damn year.”

That got Vinnie’s attention, his eyes jerking upward and locking on Tomas. Mason watched him, pleased when he saw that Vinnie wasn’t as unaffected by Tomas as he was pretending to be.

“Yeah, well, I probably should have guessed who you were too.”

“Oh, really?”

Vinnie rolled his eyes. “A big, hunky Latino wearing a leather jacket in the middle of fucking winter? Yeah, in this town, that was pretty much a dead giveaway.”

Tomas laughed. “I suppose you’re right, though the town isn’t quite as bad as you’re making it out to be. There’s a bit more diversity than people realize.”

Vinnie shrugged and didn’t say anything, obviously disagreeing.

Tomas studied him for a long moment and then turned to Mason. “Did he tell you about his flat tire?”

Mason shook his head, glancing at Vinnie, but when he seemed like he wasn’t eager to jump in, he turned back to Tomas. “I only just got back a few minutes ago and found out he was here. He said he had some car trouble but didn’t elaborate.”

“I found him a couple of miles from here on the side of the road with a flat and helped him change it. That’s how we know each other.”

Mason craned his head around to stare at Vinnie. “You changed a tire?”

Vinnie scowled right back at him. “I know how to do things.”

“Yeah, like order other people around.”

“That’s not true,” Vinnie argued, sitting up straighter. “I have skills. I can do things. I changed the oil in my car that time.”

Mason laughed. “Yeah, and then I had to take it and get it redone because you forgot to drain the old oil out first.”

Vinnie’s face flushed. He opened his mouth, but before he could retaliate, Tomas spoke up. “That’s enough.”

The glare he turned on him had Mason swallowing, a little nervous for Tomas, and then Vinnie focused it on him. He’d never liked being embarrassed, never wanted anyone to see him as less than competent.

“I could have changed it on my own.”

Tomas cocked his head before pushing off his desk. He took one large step forward until he was looming over Vinnie, then leaned down slowly, planting his hands on the arms of his chair. They were face-to-face, Vinnie’s head tipped back, chin jutting out obstinately, and Tomas smiled at him from inches away.

“I’m sure you would’ve figured it out if you had to, but there’s nothing wrong with preferring to have someone else take care of things like that for you.”

It wasn’t what Mason was expecting him to say. He’d thought maybe Tomas would scold him for being a brat or tell him that he needed to watch his tone. Instead, he’s said the exact thing Mason was sure Vinnie needed to hear, even if he couldn’t hear it yet.

Vinnie didn’t say anything, but some of the anger left his face, his expression softening.

From where Mason was sitting, he could see the moment Tomas’s eyes dropped to his lips, and he held his breath, both wanting to see them kiss and also wishing he would have the chance to kiss Tomas too. Maybe be first. It only seemed fair. He had met him first.

But Tomas didn’t close the distance between their faces. He stood up straight and moved back to lean against the desk once more.

Leaving it alone for a minute, Mason gestured at his face. “What happened to you?”

He could tell Tomas almost didn’t tell him, started to brush it off like he had out in the main area with Six and Vinnie, but he was prepared to push, and that must have been clear on his face because Tomas sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. That’s when Mason saw the knuckles on his left hand were busted and bleeding.

“Marv and I went to a hearing at the courthouse today for a nice young woman who was attempting to get a restraining order against her soon-to-be ex-husband.”

A lead balloon filled Mason’s gut. He leaned forward in his chair. “Did he do that to you?”

“Him and a couple of his friends. He didn’t bother showing up for the hearing itself, so the PPO was granted without him there to contest it. But after Marv and I got her into her car and she took off, they showed up. He was quite upset we’d ruined his marriage.”

“You ruined his marriage,” Vinnie said, anger etched on his face. “What a piece of shit.”

Tomas grunted. “True. Luckily, where we were in the parking lot was a little bit out of the way, so the nice deputies didn’t see us.”

“Don’t you want to press charges?” Mason asked.

Tomas shook his head and touched the split in his lip with the tip of his tongue and grimaced. “It’s not worth it. It’s better that we stay under the radar as much as we can.”

Mason understood that, sure, but seeing Tomas’s face, the left side bruised and bloody, made him want to track the man down himself. “Is Marv okay?”

He’d only met the club’s Road Captain once in the three weeks he’d been staying there. He was probably only a couple of years older than him and Vinnie, and he dressed like an accountant, mostly because he was. Ollie had let him know afterward that Marv was more than meets the eye but that he didn’t share a ton with people who weren’t members of the MC, and that included Ollie and CJ, who had been Mason’s main sources of information about Tomas and the rest of the bikers.

Tomas chuckled. “Yeah, he still looks like a pretty boy, though I think his hair got messed up, and he was most upset about that than his busted knuckles. He was pretty sure he fractured his hand, so he had to go to the ER.”

“Jesus,” Vinnie muttered. “How do you look like this and he hit the guys so hard he broke his hand?”

Some emotion crossed Tomas’s face, but he quickly hid it behind a smile. “I guess I’m just getting slow in my old age.”

Mason narrowed his eyes, but before he could call bullshit in a more polite way, Vinnie scoffed.

“Bullshit. If you don’t want to tell us, just say that. You don’t have to make up some lie. Even with the gray in your beard, you can’t be more than mid-forties, which is far from old.”

Tomas stared at Vinnie, and the tension in the room ratcheted back up. “You know, most people are a little bit more courteous when they talk to me, especially in my own damn house.”

If Tomas had said that to him—in that low, almost scary tone—he would’ve dropped to his damn knees to beg for forgiveness, but he and Vinnie weren’t the same kind of subs.

Vinnie shot to his feet. “Well, excuse me for giving a shit.”

“Sit back down,” Tomas said, straightening to his full height. He didn’t tower over Vinnie like he did Mason, but he still had a few inches on him, and he made it count, especially with his much bulkier body.

They stared each other down, and unable to stop himself, Mason decided to throw a little gas on the sparking fire. “Tomas and I are sleeping together.”

The lie fell out of his mouth, easy as pie. He ignored the confused look Tomas shot him and kept his entire focus on Vinnie, who stared at him, surprised for a moment, but that quickly bled away, leaving hurt and anger… and jealousy.

Bingo.

“Whatever. That’s fine,” Vinnie said. “I’m happy for you both. But I guess it answers the question I came here to ask, so I’ll just leave.”

Mason realized the error in his plan, jumping to his feet. “Vinnie, wait.”

Vinnie whirled around, the anger overtaking everything else in him, his dark eyes sparking with it and making Mason want to shrink into a puddle. “Why? You broke the rules, Mase. I’m allowed to be upset about that.”

“No, that isn’t what…” He shook his head quickly, holding his hands up, stumbling over his words as he tried to make better what he’d just ruined.

Trying to see if Vinnie would be jealous had been stupid. He’d gotten caught up in the moment, wanting to push the two of them to see if they were as attracted to each other as he and Tomas had been since he’d first arrived.

But just like most things, he and Vinnie weren’t the same that way. If Vinnie had said that to him, Mason would’ve asked if he could watch them, join in, or see when it would be his turn.

That wasn’t how Vinnie operated, and now Mason couldn’t even be sure if the jealousy was over him or Tomas.

“Stop,” Tomas barked, moving between them and holding up a hand. He pointed at Mason. “What the fuck was that? I don’t want to be in the middle of some game you’re playing with him. I told you that.”

Mason’s knees trembled. He locked them in place, resisting the urge to fall. “You’re right. You did. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“And you,” Tomas said, turning to Vinnie, “I don’t completely understand what kind of relationship the two of you have, but I do know that it’s special and you’ve been together for years. I would never just step in the middle of that. I don’t know why he lied, but he did. If it were up to me, he’d get his ass paddled over it.”

Mason sucked in a breath, heat filling his entire body with arousal and trepidation. He was on the brink of getting what he wanted, but it was a fine line he was trying to traverse. If he pushed too hard one way, he could lose everything, but if he didn’t push hard enough, nothing could come to fruition between them.

“Why would you say that?” Vinnie asked, his voice a little hoarse. The anger had sputtered out, leaving behind his hurt.

Mason threw up his hands. “Because I’m an idiot. I was trying to make a point.”

“What point, Mase? I’m here. I didn’t sign the contract to go to Dallas. I’m trying, and instead of giving me a chance, you tried to throw another man in my face.”

“No, no,” Mason said, moving forward. He tried to grab Vinnie’s hands, but he jerked away, taking a step back, and Mason felt his heart cracking in his chest. “Vinnie, please. I’m sorry. I just wanted to see.”

“See what? If I actually cared about you? The fact that you would even question that…” Vinnie shook his head. “I guess I’m to blame for that, aren’t I?”

“Stop it!” Mason yelled, surprising himself and Vinnie, though Tomas didn’t so much as blink, simply moved so he was next to them again, like he felt the need to play referee in their spat but was willing to let them figure it out on their own as long as things stayed civil.

“That isn’t what I meant. I know you care about me, and you know I care about you. I wanted to see if you would be jealous that I’d slept with him and you hadn’t.”

Vinnie stared at him, jaw clenched. He knew they were both acutely aware of Tomas standing there listening. “You wanted to though, didn’t you?” Vinnie asked softly.

Mason nodded, not even pretending, unwilling to mess up their reunion further.

“Would you have said no if he offered?”

He pulled his lips over his teeth. He didn’t know. That night they’d shared tamales, if Tomas hadn’t cooled things off between them, had instead kissed him, maybe asked for more, he couldn’t say for sure if he would’ve agreed or not.

Vinnie read it in his face, nodding, and before Mason could figure out what to say, someone knocked twice on the door but didn’t wait before coming in. It was Six, but luckily, Ollie wasn’t with him, but Mason was sure he wanted to be, the nosy brat.

Six eyed the three of them, how close they were standing to each other, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he made eye contact with Tomas and jerked his head toward the desk.

“Sit.”

Tomas sighed but went over to the large chair behind his desk and sank onto it. He didn’t put up a fight as Six meticulously cleaned the blood from his face and the small cuts in his brow and lip and then his bloody knuckles. He and Vinnie didn’t say anything, the four of them living in a tense, awkward silence until Six finished putting away the items from his first aid kit and said, “Kenneth will be here after he finishes his shift. I’m going to have him take a look at your face, see if he thinks anything’s fractured.”

Tomas opened his mouth, but Six snapped the top of his first aid kit closed and picked it up, turning to leave.

“That wasn’t a request.”

He left the room just as quickly as he had entered, not even bothering to spare a glance at him and Vinnie. Once the door shut behind him, Tomas let out a slow breath and leaned back in his chair.

“I think the three of us need to have a conversation.”

CHAPTER 8

He watched Vinnie and Mason exchange a glance, still trying to get a read on their relationship with each other. Mason grinned triumphantly before turning to face Tomas, but Vinnie didn’t look nearly as excited at the idea. He sank back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He was wearing the same clothes he had been when Tomas found him on the side of the road, minus his hat, and was still sexy as hell. His tight curls were cut into a short Afro with a low fade on the sides, a hint of facial hair emphasizing his sharp jawline.

“I agree,” Mason said cheerfully, “the three of us should have a conversation.”

Tomas narrowed his eyes. “You’re already on thin ice after your little stunt, so I’d be very careful how you proceed.”

Shit, the honest-to-god pout he got in response nearly made him chuckle. He glanced at Vinnie, expecting to see him look a little smug or maybe rolling his eyes at Mason’s antics, but he looked exactly the same. He was shutting down. He might have still been in the room with them, but Vinnie was closing off, unwilling to hear what Tomas had to say or even contemplate the idea of what the attraction between the three of them could mean.

“Vinnie, look at me.” He waited until he held those stubborn eyes. “I don’t know exactly what happened between the two of you, but can you at least admit to me, in the privacy of this room, that you weren’t unaffected by what happened on the side of the road earlier?”

He caught a bit of surprise in Vinnie’s expression, like he couldn’t believe Tomas would just say it so plainly, but he was too old to play games. Seeing the two of them together in front of him gave him a surge of energy he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He may have thought it was time to give up on trying to find a few partners to settle down with, that he’d never be able to find the right combination of people to fulfill his wants and needs and occupy the empty space in his heart, but Mason’s sweetness, combined with Vinnie’s sass, had his attention. Had him eager to see what their dynamic could be.

Though Vinnie had every right not to feel the same way. Tomas had no idea about his history or if they’d ever dated a third like that. He’d been very careful not to press Mason to talk about why he was back in Michigan when his boyfriend—or maybe just best friend; he’d a hard time getting a read on that—was still on the other side of the country.

The fight that they’d had didn’t seem like it would be enough to drive him to return home without Vinnie, so he needed to learn more. He needed to figure out how they fit with each other before he could figure out if they’d fit with him.

Vinnie licked his lips and looked at Mason out of the corner of his eye before refocusing on Tomas. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?” Tomas said, holding up a hand to forestall Mason when he started to speak. How could it not matter? Between what he already had with Mason?

“Because.”

“Because why?” he said, his tone firm.

“You met Mason first,” he said like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Okay,” Tomas said slowly, drumming his fingers on his desktop. “Explain that to me like I’m a toddler. Explain to me why it matters which of you I met first.”

Vinnie huffed, visibly annoyed, and pushed to his feet. “How exactly do you see this going?” he said instead. “Do you want to date both of us until you figure out which one you like better? Trust me, if you felt a connection to Mason, whatever chemistry we may or may not have had was just a product of circumstances.”

Tomas began to realize what the situation was, why Vinnie was so reluctant to hear what he had to say. “I wouldn’t do that to the two of you,” he said, running his eyes over Vinnie and then glancing at Mason, who didn’t look quite as cheerful as before, his fingers twisting in the bottom of his V-neck shirt as he looked worriedly between Vinnie and Tomas. “I’d never try and come between the two of you like that.”

Vinnie threw up his hands. “Then what’s the point of this little exercise? You met Mason first. Mason’s a lot of things, but one thing he’s not is like me.”

Tomas cocked his head, deciding to hold off on clarifying things for another moment. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re both submissives, correct? Looking for a dominant?”

Vinnie rolled his eyes in such an exaggerated fashion Tomas thought he was going to fall over for a second. “Obviously. But where he is sweetness and obedience…” He paused, glancing away. When he looked back at Tomas, he held his gaze and said in a hard voice, “I’m all sharp angles and stubbornness. We are not the same types of submissives. We do not want the same kinds of things. We won’t be interchangeable.”

“Good,” Tomas said clearly, rising to his feet and moving around his desk.

Vinnie started moving backward, trying to keep space between them, but Tomas kept going. He was vaguely aware of Mason standing and hovering near them as he edged Vinnie all the way back until his shoulder blades bumped into his closed door.

“I don’t want two submissives who are interchangeable.”

“What do you want, then?” Vinnie asked, raising his chin, but he couldn’t quite disguise the wobble in his voice, the yearning in his eyes.

As much as he wanted to pretend like the connection Tomas felt was one-sided, they both knew it wasn’t true. Vinnie had felt the same thing, that instantaneous chemistry. A part of him, deep down inside, knew that the thing he craved, that firm hand to help guide him, was something Tomas could give him.

“Both of you,” Tomas said, his voice low. “At least, I think so. I haven’t had a chance to get to know you, and I’ve been keeping my distance from Mason since I wasn’t sure what was happening between the two of you. But it’s very clear to me there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“What’s that?” Mason piped up. He was standing a few feet away from them, his eyes practically glowing with eagerness as he watched the two of them stand off against each other.

Tomas smiled at him and then turned it on Vinnie. “I assumed Ollie told you I was polyamorous, and that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

Vinnie sucked in a breath.

“And that means I’m not looking for one kind of person as a partner; I’m looking for multiple people that will fit my life and my needs and who I can care for in the way that they need.”

Swallowing, Vinnie said softly, “We want really different things.”

“No, we don’t,” Mason argued, stepping forward.

Vinnie squeezed his eyes shut. “Mase, don’t.”

“No,” Mason said, sounding almost angry. “You always do this. You always say this. You act like just because we have different kinks and we want to try different things, that makes us completely different, but what we want is exactly the same.”

“And what is it the two of you want?” Tomas asked, raising a hand so he could rub his thumb just beneath one of Vinnie’s tantalizing cheekbones.

“Someone to take care of us,” Mason said clearly. “Someone to make our relationship whole.”

“Is that what you want?” Tomas asked Vinnie, utterly captivated by the way his long eyelashes fluttered at the gentle touch on his face. He was so angry, but just beneath that, he craved soft touches too.

“Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.”

“Life is complicated,” Tomas whispered, “but this doesn’t have to be.” He stepped back, giving Vinnie some space. “And we’ll never know if the jagged edges of our pieces fit together if we don’t even try.”

“We’ve tried before,” Vinnie said, lids slowly opening so he could hold Tomas’s gaze. “We’ve never been able to find someone who can fulfill both of our needs, who doesn’t end up liking one of us more than the other.”

Tomas nodded. “You both keep hinting at wanting different things. Why don’t you tell me? Let’s stop beating around the bush and speak plainly.”

Vinnie chewed on his bottom lip, obviously reluctant to reveal something so personal. Tomas understood that. They didn’t know each other that well, but he had a feeling that for the chance to get to know Vinnie, they needed to get over this hurdle. He needed to pass whatever test it was Vinnie was so sure he’d fail he wasn’t even going to give him the exam.

“I like praise,” Mason said, moving closer to Vinnie and pressing in against his side.

Vinnie raised his arm to give him more room in what looked like an automatic gesture, wrapping the limb around Mason and tugging him a little closer. Tomas wondered how often that happened, how often Mason asked for comfort in a nonverbal way and Vinnie gave it to him, whether consciously or unconsciously, attempting to step into that dominant role and give Mason what he needed.

Did it go both ways, or was this part of the bitterness that he’d glimpsed? He couldn’t imagine the psychological toll it would take on a sub to try and be a switch when it wasn’t in their DNA.

Tomas smiled at Mason. “That’s unsurprising, and considering what a good boy you are, I’m sure you get it quite often.”

Mason sank his teeth into his bottom lip and squirmed against Vinnie.

“What else do you like?”

“I like impact play and exhibitionism.”

At that, Vinnie snorted, but Mason ignored him other than to pinch him in the side and kept going.

“And I like doing role-playing scenes.”

Tomas nodded. None of those were deal-breakers. In fact, he was interested in all of them as well. Some of them, like impact play, he’d even tried during parties. He’d used a crop and flogger a few times on different subs and found it almost hypnotizing, falling into a rhythm and turning the skin pink and then red. And sending a sub soaring into subspace when done correctly?

Perfection.

“What else? What do you want from a Dom?”

Mason glanced at Vinnie, but he just shook his head, still unwilling to say. “A strict daddy.”

Tomas scratched at his jaw, the soft sound of his nails on his beard filling the space between them. “Like Six and Ollie?”

They were the strictest D/s relationship he knew personally, so he wanted to make sure they were on the same page of what strict meant.

Mason nodded. “I love the rules that Six gave him. And his cage.”

He raised a brow but only nodded. He knew about the cage. Ollie was a little too free with discussing the things he and his daddy got up to for anyone in the clubhouse not to know, but he’d have to ask Six about the rules.

“Thank you for telling me.” He glanced at Vinnie. “Are any of those things you’re interested in as well?”

For a long moment, he didn’t think Vinnie would answer, that he’d stay clammed up, and Tomas would have to try and pry it out of him. But finally, Vinnie said, “Role play.”

That was it. Out of the list that Mason had given, that was the only thing he was willing to cop to wanting as well.

He’d take it.

“I’ve had a few discussions with some other Doms about different role-playing scenarios, and I’m definitely interested in trying.”

Mason perked up. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, offering him a small smile. “I heard of a very interesting scene from a friend of mine where he played the professor, and the sub was the student who was going to fail the class but was willing to do whatever it took to pass.”

Mason practically skipped across the room toward him, stopping just in front of him and gripping the front of his T-shirt. “Yes. That. Please.”

Tomas chuckled, gently carding his fingers through the wild waves Mason claimed to hate but hadn’t cut in the near month he’d been there. He was grateful. He liked the length and the way he’d be able to grip the top of it easily if need be.

He glanced past him at Vinnie. “Would something like that interest you as well?”

Vinnie shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but there was a bulge in the front of his jeans that begged to differ. Tomas nodded and put the plan into the back of his mind. “Is there anything else you’d like to share with me?”

He left it open-ended, like he was asking both of them, but he was hoping that Vinnie would share something else. But he just shook his head, staying pressed against the door and not making any effort to get closer.

Mason looked back at him. “Do you want me to tell him?”

Vinnie hesitated, and Tomas held his breath. As much as he wanted to know, he wanted Vinnie to be the one to tell him, to open up to him and start to trust him.

“No, not yet,” Vinnie said.

Tomas let his breath out slowly. “That’s alright. There’s no rush.”

As interested as he was in exploring the dynamic between the three of them, he wouldn’t pressure Vinnie to start something he wasn’t ready for, especially after what had apparently happened in Atlanta.

“Where are you staying?” he asked Vinnie, letting him know the tough conversation about their BDSM kinks was over.

Vinnie shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m just going to stay at the hotel by the university until I can find an apartment.”

Eyebrows scrunched together, Mason peered back at Vinnie, and then he looked up at Tomas with round, innocent eyes. “Can he stay here with me, please? I promise we’ll be good.”

Tomas was in deep shit.

That look combined with the soft pleading? There was no way Mason didn’t know how irresistible it was. He figured there was no point in pretending otherwise.

He gently chucked underneath Mason’s chin and stepped around him. “Sure, he can stay here if he wants.” He looked at Vinnie. “If you want. You don’t have to, and you don’t have to stay in Mason’s room either. There’s one more empty bedroom upstairs between Six and Knuckles.”

Vinnie perked up at that for some reason. “Knuckles lives in the clubhouse?”

Tomas narrowed his eyes. “He does. He’s also straight, so don’t get your sights set on him.”

Snorting, he shook his head like Tomas was being ridiculous while Mason snickered. “Yeah, that won’t be an issue,” Vinnie said dryly. “But he’s nice. I was helping him in the kitchen earlier before you and Mason got here.”

“He is nice.” And he could use a few more friends, but he didn’t add that last part. Knuckles had been struggling with some personal revelations over the last year, taking stock of his life and trying to figure out what he actually wanted and not what he thought he should want.

“I’m going to go check and make sure Ollie isn’t burning the place down out there, but you guys can use my office for as long as you want to talk.”

“Wait,” Mason said, holding up a hand, even though he was several feet away. “Six said he was going to send Kenneth in here to check on you.”

Tomas waved him off. “I’m sure he’ll find me at the party and then poke and prod at my face. But I’ve had a fractured eye socket before. This isn’t that. It’ll just take a little time to heal.”

Vinnie looked at him when he said that, a strange expression on his face, then shuffled out of the way so Tomas could open the door. He gave one last look at the two of them and then headed out, closing the door softly behind him.

As he entered the main area of the clubhouse, he had to smile at the controlled chaos Ollie so easily managed. If he ever wanted to become a member of the club, Tomas figured he’d be President within a year. Luckily for Tomas, he seemed to be satisfied with sleeping with a biker instead of becoming one.

The birthday boy had arrived. He was off in the corner, CJ sitting on his lap and his hair still damp from his shower. It was still kind of weird for him to think of the two of them living a few miles away instead of just upstairs. They’d fit in so seamlessly with the club, Tank patching over and then bringing CJ in to live with him immediately afterward.

Tomas and Demarcus had worried the dynamic in the clubhouse would change or be too much for the two of them, but instead, the club seemed to be adapting, changing in a way he hadn’t anticipated but approved of.

While he wasn’t always gung ho for the changes, he couldn’t help but admit that even if the rumors of their kink parties were causing problems in the community, it had brought the club closer together. So many of his brothers and sisters had apparently been secretly craving different aspects of the lifestyle, and it wasn’t until it was brought out into the public by first CJ and Tank, and then Ollie and Six, that D had realized more people wanted the same types of relationships.

He moved closer to where Tank was sitting in a recliner, his hands possessively on his boy as CJ told him something animatedly, gesturing toward the ceiling over by the bar.

“It was hilarious,” he heard him say as he got closer. “He’s taking your birthday party very seriously.” CJ saw him walking up before Tank did, and he smiled at him. “I can’t even imagine what the other guy must look like if that’s your face.”

Tomas snorted. “All three of them looked pretty worse for wear, that’s for sure. Though Marv barely had a scratch on him.”

Tank shook his head, a small smile behind his beard. “That man, I don’t know how he gets into these fights and manages not to get hit.”

“I guess he’s just faster than his opponents.”

It was true. Marv had studied some sort of martial arts since he was a kid, though he rarely used the skills he had honed over the years outside of the studio.

“Where are Mason and Vinnie?” CJ asked, glancing around the room. “Is everything okay with them?”

Tomas nodded. “They’ll figure it out. They’re talking in my office.”

“Uh-oh, incoming,” CJ said, using his chin to point to something behind Tomas.

He didn’t even have to look to know who it was. He sighed when Ollie reached his side, planted his hands on his hips, and demanded, “Somebody going to tell me what the hell is going on with my best friends?”

Tomas turned an unimpressed face at him. “I think you should talk to your best friends about that. But not right now,” he added quickly when Ollie started to stomp toward his office. “They need to settle things between the two of them first.”

Ollie sighed long and loud, but before he could try and pester Tomas into giving him any information, a man around the same height as Ollie with light brown skin and blue scrubs appeared at Ollie’s side. He held an overnight bag in one hand and a familiar-looking medical kit in the other.

The first time the club had met Kenneth, he’d come to stitch up Six’s back since he was the one who usually did the sewing and couldn’t quite reach it. He’d brought his supplies in a plastic bag that time and when he came to take out the stitches a few weeks later.

But since then, he’d started carrying a leather bag, like what doctors used to for house calls, whenever he was around the club. Tomas wasn’t sure of all the contents, but it always seemed like Kenneth had exactly what he needed whenever one of them got into a scrape or did something stupid when drinking.

“Good lord, Six was right,” Kenneth said, studying his face. “Sit down so I can take a closer look.”

Tomas sighed and sank onto the couch next to Tank’s chair. “You know what I miss?” he said dryly.

“What’s that?” Tank said, his low rumble nearly getting lost in the music that started to play on the sound system.

“I miss the days when there weren’t so many subs fussing over me.”

CJ and Kenneth smiled, and Ollie cackled. “No, you don’t.”

No. He supposed he didn’t.

CHAPTER 9

Vinnie watched the door close behind Tomas, his stomach churning a little. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that the man knew what an orbital fracture felt like.

He wondered if Tomas realized what he actually looked like at the moment, how battered and bruised he truly was. He just seemed so nonchalant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal.

And he could barely let himself think about how it had happened. That Tomas and Marv had been attacked by some piece-of-shit abuser and his friends simply because they had protected the man’s wife when she’d called for help.

The fact that he was on his way to the courthouse when he’d stopped to help Vinnie also wasn’t lost on him.

“Vin,” Mason said softly from behind him.

He took a deep breath slowly and let it out quietly. As confusing as his attraction and draw Tomas was, he needed to focus on his relationship with Mason. That’s what he’d driven across the country to fix. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by a tall, well-built, gorgeous, kind, older man who made butterflies erupt inside him with a single look.

He’d give himself time to freak out about it later, but he figured it was the universe laughing at him. He’d decided to give up on trying to find a Dom, and so the universe had thrown the perfect man right in front of him. Even worse, had thrown him in front of him and Mason, tempting them both.

And Mason’s impulse control wasn’t exactly well-known.

He turned and offered Mason a small smile. “Well, despite that interruption, I’m glad we have a chance to talk, just the two of us.”

Mason raised his brows and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that what you’re calling Tomas, an interruption?”

“For the moment,” Vinnie said, lifting his chin. “I can only focus on one issue at a time right now.”

Mason’s defiant look crumbled, and he closed the small distance between them, lightly resting his hands on Vinnie. “What’s the matter?”

He shook his head. “I’m just tired. The last few weeks have been busy getting everything packed up and ready to be moved, and I picked up as many extra shifts as I could since I wasn’t sure how quickly I’d be able to start back to work once I moved back.”

“Lee will hire you again,” Mason cut in, sounding positive. “He loved you and was so mad when you left.”

“Exactly. He was mad that I left.”

He figured it was a pretty good chance he would get rehired, considering he was extremely good at his job and he had glowing recommendations from his supervisors in Atlanta, but it wasn’t a guarantee. And if he had to go outside of Ridgewood to find a hospital to hire him… Well, he’d worry about that problem if it came up.

Mason scoffed softly. “He might’ve been mad that you left, but he’ll be just as happy you’re back. How often did you pick up overtime or switch with other people when they needed days off? You were his go-to person to cover understaffed shifts.”

He had a point there, but he thought it was funny that Mason was saying those things like they were positives when, a year ago, they had been fighting almost daily about the fact Mason felt he worked too much.

He didn’t point that out though. The last thing he wanted was to start another fight. “Either way, it’s been a long couple of weeks and…” He hesitated, studying Mason’s upturned face. It was so open, even after everything they’d gone through for the last year. It was like Mason didn’t know how to close himself off, didn’t know how to stay mad.

“And what?” Mason asked.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Mason smiled at him softly. “Me neither. I’m glad you came back though. I take it that means you want to make this work?”

Vinnie was grabbing his upper arms before he realized it, tugging him closer until their faces were only inches away. “I’ve always wanted to make this work. I know it might not have seemed like it lately. I’ve gotten lost in my head and I think a little complacent, like it didn’t matter what I did or how much we fought because no matter what, it was always you and me and it always would be, but you deserve better than that. I’m going to be better than that.”

Mason curled his fingers into the fabric of Vinnie’s T-shirt, a vulnerable look appearing in his eyes. “We both got complacent, but I think we both want it enough that we can make things work, that we can fix what was starting to break and maybe even be stronger than we were before.”

Swallowing, Vinnie nodded. “That’s what I want, Mase. No matter what else happens, no matter if we ever find a third or if you make millions of dollars a year more than I do, I want to make sure that we’re the priority.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “What do you mean if? Didn’t you see that hot Latino who walked out of here a minute ago?”

He bit back a laugh. “Yes, I saw him, but that doesn’t mean…”

Mason gave him a slight shake. “It can mean that if we want it to. I’m not going to rush you on anything. I just want you to know that I’ve been here for weeks, and I’ve gotten to know Tomas and the others personally, and everything Ollie told us about them, all of the good work that they do, the kindness, the accepting way they have of everyone no matter how different they are, it’s all true. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Maybe,” Vinnie said softly. “But we’ve been let down so many times before.”

“None of those men were like Tomas,” Mason insisted. “Just give him a chance. Please, Vinnie, let yourself hope for it and be open to it. Don’t build up those cement walls of yours too high for anyone to get in, me or Tomas.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Vinnie started to say, but Mason shook his head.

“I know you don’t mean to, but when you shut down and close yourself off to protect yourself, you close yourself off from me too, even when you don’t realize it, and there’s nothing that makes me feel more lonely than being alone with you and feeling like you’re not even there.”

Mason’s words hit him with a sledgehammer, putting a huge crack in his chest and those damn cement walls they were both so familiar with.

Back before they’d left his parents’ house, he hadn’t needed them, had been more open to things like Mason was, but when his parents found them in his bedroom a month before graduation and told him they would have to leave the day after they finished high school, the first block was put in place.

He built up his walls quickly, needing to protect himself from feeling that pain, that betrayal from the people who were supposed to love him no matter what. But when they looked at him and Mason, someone he had loved for as long as he could remember, they were disgusted by them. They couldn’t and wouldn’t accept it. The only reason they’d let him and Mason stay was because they were more worried about what their church friends would say if they kicked them out early. Being gossiped about was more terrifying to them than living under the same roof as two gay boys.

Vinnie didn’t know how Mason had held on to his sweetness and his ability to hold his heart wide open after losing his parents to a car accident, and then after living with him and his parents for two years before getting kicked to the curb simply for loving his adoptive parents’ son. No matter what life threw at them, Mason always stayed warm and loving, whereas Vinnie had started to turn cold, apathetic.

He just hadn’t realized how much it had been affecting Mason as well, how much he’d been inflicting it on him.

“I’ll try,” Vinnie whispered, emotions thick in his voice. “I don’t want you to feel that way ever again.”

Mason cupped the sides of his face. “I should have said something before. Instead of getting mad and arguing, we should have just sat down and talked. I just didn’t know if you’d hear me.”

He wasn’t sure he would have either. The one thing he had heard loud and clear was the front door closing in their apartment, Mason on the other side. He hadn’t realized he wouldn’t come back in that moment, but it had still been excruciating to watch him walk away and know that he had played a large part in causing the divide between them.

Music started to play out in the main club area, and Mason’s smile widened. “Are you going to stay for the party?”

“I’m not sure,” Vinnie said, “but I want to help Knuckles finish up the cupcakes. I told him I would come back.”

Mason nodded.

When Vinnie started to step away, his hold on his T-shirt tightened. Vinnie turned back to him, furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you going to stay?” Mason asked softly, his voice breaking. “I don’t want you to sleep somewhere else. Please, Vinnie, stay here with me.”

He wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He didn’t want them to just ignore the problems from before and go back to pretending like everything was fine. But just like Tomas, he couldn’t say no to Mason’s pleading face, especially when he didn’t really want to.

He was tired of being alone too.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

The party had started out pretty normal, as far as Vinnie could tell. He hadn’t exactly been to a lot of adult birthday parties since, for the longest time, it was just him and Mason, and then him, Mason, Penny, and Ollie.

But when the Devil’s Hands put on a party, they put everything they had into it, apparently. The lights had been turned down low, with white twinkle lights strung up across the ceiling, zigzagging back and forth and giving a soft warm glow to the room. But the music was loud and boisterous, as were the many partygoers, most wearing leather, motorcycle boots, torn jeans, and flannels.

Amidst it all was Ollie, playing host despite the fact it wasn’t his boyfriend’s birthday. He was wearing a bright pink pair of shorts that had long cutouts in the back, showing off half of his ass cheeks, and a white crop top with the words “Daddy’s little brat” on the front in the same bright pink color. His sparkly silver shoes really rounded out the outfit, but what struck Vinnie was the fact that none of the bikers in the room even blinked an eye at him.

Many of them smiled when Ollie popped up next to them, asking if they needed anything and were having fun. And his shadow, Six, followed him around indulgently, occasionally stopping just to say a few words to some of the partygoers but mostly keeping his attention completely focused on his boyfriend, stepping in if Ollie got a little too rowdy and giving him a firm pat on the ass before redirecting him toward another group.

As much and as often as Ollie had talked to him and Mason while they had been gone, they hadn’t really had a chance to see him and Six interacting with each other, especially not around the rest of the club. He couldn’t help but be a little surprised despite Ollie reassuring them repeatedly over the last year that everyone in the Devil’s Hands Motorcycle Club was nothing but kind and welcoming to him, even in his most feminine of clothing. The cynic in him hadn’t been able to fully believe it, but as he watched from a darkened corner as Ollie skipped over to where CJ and Tank were talking to the two men from before who had been hanging the banner, Houston and Rooster, each with arms around young men next to them, he had to admit that if anything, Ollie had undersold the club.

Vinnie sighed. He should go over and officially meet the boys with Houston and Rooster. He already knew who they were, Kenneth and Emmett, and quite a bit about them, but had never gotten to meet them in person.

They’d both been added to what Ollie had annoyingly named the Sub Club, their group messaging thread that used to only consist of him, Mason, Penny, and Ollie, even though Penny used to insist she wasn’t a sub. CJ had been added to it right before he and Mason had left, and then a few months later, Kenneth had been.

Over the holidays, Emmett had appeared in the thread, though he didn’t talk a lot, only commenting on things occasionally and mostly just adding laughing emojis when Ollie got particularly feisty or sent ridiculously funny memes.

It was a little weird to him that he had developed friendships with the three men before ever being in the same room with any of them, and it had always stirred a little jealousy in him when the rest of them had stories and inside jokes from events happening back in Michigan that he and Mason weren’t a part of.

Ollie had always gone out of his way to make sure they were included, telling them about things, sharing gossip about people even when they had no idea who they were, but it had still hurt sometimes, which had been ridiculous. Vinnie was the one who had dragged him and Mason away. He didn’t have the right to get upset that Ollie had made new friends, especially when he had kept up his demands of them moving back as soon as they could, letting them know over and over again they weren’t forgotten and they hadn’t been replaced.

His thoughts screeched to a halt when the group he’d been absently watching started laughing as CJ pushed Tank backward until he sat on a large, comfortable-looking recliner and then sank to his knees in front of him.

Vinnie’s mouth parted as he watched CJ take Tank’s dick out of his jeans and start giving him an enthusiastic blowjob in front of all of their friends. Some people ignored them or chuckled and shook their heads before moving on, but others stopped and watched, getting caught up in the moment. Just as the shock of it was starting to wear off and Vinnie was going to turn and head upstairs to Mason’s bedroom, where he’d stashed his stuff already, a large presence came up behind him. The same woodsy scent he’d been overwhelmed by on the side of the road under the cold February sky filled his nose and relaxed parts of him while others tensed.

“What are you doing over here in the corner by yourself?” Tomas asked softly, his mouth close to Vinnie’s ear.

“Just tired,” he said. “It’s been a long couple of days. I was thinking about heading up and getting ready for bed.”

Tomas made a thoughtful noise, and then his hands landed on Vinnie’s hips so lightly he thought he was imagining it for a second. “Things will probably stay pretty boisterous down here for a while. I don’t know that you’ll be able to get much sleep.”

“I have earplugs,” Vinnie said, his voice breathless despite how much he wanted to try and sound unaffected. “I don’t always sleep well. And they help block out Mason’s snoring.”

The sound Tomas made that time was a little more growly. “That’s not safe. What if there was a fire or something and you couldn’t hear people calling for you?”

Vinnie tried to turn to look at him, but one of those big, warm hands shot up and gripped the sides of his jaw.

“Keep your eyes on them. CJ appreciates an audience. It’d be inconsiderate for us not to watch.”

Vinnie sucked in a breath, desire pooling in his belly and groin. “What if I don’t want to watch?”

“You know the stoplight system?” Tomas asked, his lips brushing against Vinnie’s ear, his beard just barely tickling at the sensitive skin behind it. He shivered uncontrollably and nodded as best he could. “You can use it. Now or anytime in the future.”

He thought about it, thought about using a safe word, breaking free of Tomas’s hold, and running upstairs to get control of himself once more, to put physical and emotional space back between them, but then he remembered Mason’s request back in Tomas’s office and Vinnie’s promise to be open. To try.

“Green,” he whispered, and Tomas made a soft growly sound that shot lust straight down into Vinnie’s dick as it started to take notice of the highly charged air around them, not to mention the erotic scene they were watching.

They were too far away for them to hear what Tank was saying, but the way his hand was holding on to CJ’s head and his arm moved, it was obvious he was fucking CJ’s mouth more than just letting CJ blow him, and that turned him on more than the live porn itself.

“Is this one of those things you like that you’re afraid I won’t?” Tomas asked.

“No,” Vinnie said. “And I’m not afraid.”

“Sure you are, gatito,” Tomas said with a soft chuckle. “But that’s okay. I’ll show you that you can trust me. However long it takes.”

Vinnie almost scoffed. The idea that this man of all people thought Vinnie didn’t already know that he was trustworthy, that he was good, was laughable. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, reminded himself that even if it didn’t work between the two of them, that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t someone out there who could meet both his and Mason’s needs, and then he turned around.

Tomas’s fingers tightened on his jaw for just a second before he let his hand drop away. He held both out to the sides, not touching Vinnie but not moving away. His eyebrows rose in question.

“Maybe I was afraid before, and maybe I will be again, but I’m not right now.”

Tomas’s face softened, and one of those big hands cupped the side of his face so gently he couldn’t help but let his eyes fall shut, leaning into the touch, letting the warmth soak into his skin and down to his racing heart. He didn’t know how long he’d have before Tomas turned away from him. He was going to steal every last second of it.

“You didn’t answer the question. Do you like this?”

“Watching?” Vinnie asked, forcing himself to open his eyes again. “Watching is fine. I like it well enough.”

Tomas nodded toward the show happening behind them. “Is that something you want, showing off in front of others, letting them see how much you crave it?”

He shook his head slowly. “No,” he said. “That’s the opposite of what I want. What I want is private and intense and is not for public viewing.”

Tomas cocked his head at him. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Vinnie said. “I need…”

Was he really going to say this out loud to a man he really didn’t actually know that well? Vinnie looked at the bruises on Tomas’s face, the split in his lip. He thought about the way he’d stopped and helped Vinnie change his tire, even as Vinnie had been less than grateful. He reminded himself that Tomas’s entire MC helped protect survivors against violence from their partners.

He might not know all of the dirty details of Tomas and his life—his relationship with his family, his hopes and dreams for the future, what his favorite meal was—but he knew what kind of man he was.

He knew he was trustworthy, and that meant he was trustworthy enough to share this with.

“I like humiliation,” Vinnie said clearly, forcing himself to hold Tomas’s eyes. The next part would be even harder somehow, saying out loud what he’d been holding inside for years. “And I want… No, I need discipline.”

Tomas didn’t outwardly react to his confession. Vinnie wet his lips, nervous despite telling himself that it didn’t matter if Tomas wasn’t interested, that it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

He was sure there were other big, strong, yet gentle men out there that made his knees weak with a single half smile.

Sure, he’d never found them before, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there.

“What kind of discipline?” Tomas asked, his voice completely neutral.

“Um, different kinds,” he offered, a little surprised that the discipline was the first thing Tomas had a question about. “Spankings or…”

Tomas finished for him. “Or discipline that also involves humiliation.”

Vinnie nodded, his heart in his throat.

“But you don’t want public humiliation,” Tomas clarified. “Nothing in front of other people.”

Vinnie shook his head. “No, I’m not an exhibitionist in any way, shape, or form. Mason’s the only person who’s ever seen that side of me who wasn’t a Dom that I played with.”

Tomas cocked his head, running his eyes over Vinnie’s face. “Do you want him to see? Do you like getting disciplined in front of him?”

Vinnie sucked in a breath. No one had ever asked him that before. Sure, he’d been with Doms before where it was just the two of them, but generally, if they were trying to make a threesome work, someone who could give both him and Mason what they needed, they always assumed that because Mason loved being watched that Vinnie would too, even when he declined going to clubs and doing scenes in front of others.

No one had ever seen him. Not in that way.

“No,” he said, his voice a little broken. “I’d rather not.”

Tomas leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for telling me. We can talk more about the kinds of humiliation and discipline you like another time, but I need you to hear this.”

“Okay,” Vinnie said softly, wondering when his hands had grabbed Tomas’s sides and started clutching him like he was afraid to let go.

“I’m saying yes. I need to know more of what you like to get a better idea of things, but neither of those—or anything else you have locked away—are hard limits for me. You hear me, gatito?”

Feeling like his heart was in his throat, he croaked out, “I hear you.”

CHAPTER 10

“Ican’t believe you talked me into this. Didn’t I tell you that I was tired yesterday?” Vinnie whined as Mason led him downstairs into the basement of the clubhouse.

He grinned and glanced over his shoulder at him. “You literally always say that. Sometimes even when we work out in the evening.”

Vinnie sighed heavily, his feet stomping on the steps. As much as he complained, Mason just knew it was part of his process. While Mason enjoyed working out and getting that rush of endorphins, Vinnie was more of the reluctant sort. He was always grateful that Mason dragged him along afterward, but before, and sometimes during, he’d bitch and complain like the best of them.

Ollie could be the same way sometimes, though usually, he was more like Mason, especially if they had some loud, heavy-bass music going as they ran on the treadmill or did squats.

“I’m just grateful we’re allowed to use this space,” Mason said. “I was all ready to go and renew my membership at that place we used to go to.”

Vinnie groaned. “That place was the worst.”

“It really was.” Mason laughed. “Remember that guy who would grunt so loud it practically echoed every time he bench-pressed?”

“Remember? The sound still haunts me. I get sometimes you have to make noise when you’re exerting yourself that much, but when it drowned out the music no matter how loud the employees turned it up, maybe you got too much weight on there, buddy,” Vinnie sniped, rubbing at his face tiredly.

Mason almost felt bad for waking him up and dragging him out of bed, but he was still just so grateful to have him there he couldn’t really feel too guilty. And he didn’t think Vinnie was that mad either, just honestly tired. Mason knew from recent experience how long the drive was from Atlanta, but after both of them had talked to Tomas the night before and then he and Vinnie had talked in the office afterward, he’d been feeling a lot better. Better than he had in months.

The cherry on top had been when he spied Vinnie and Tomas pressed close together in the corner of the room last night. Right as Mason was looking for Vinnie to see if he was okay with CJ’s birthday present to his husband, he’d spotted them.

He hadn’t gotten close enough to hear what they were saying, but he’d been able to make out Vinnie’s face and recognized the look. He was pretty sure Vinnie had confessed his kinks to Tomas, following through on his promise to be open to the idea of the three of them being together.

So that put a pep in his step that morning.

Even if the rest of the people in the clubhouse were dragging from the late night before, he couldn’t help but feel damn near bursting with happiness and anticipation.

They were the only ones in the gym for the first twenty or thirty minutes. Vinnie started to become more talkative as they moved from doing their cardio warm-up to weight reps. Heavy footsteps coming down the stairs drew their attention.

Mason recognized Marv’s easygoing tone as he said something that made the other man laugh. A shiver worked down Mason’s spine. That was Tomas. He could tell, even though he’d only heard him laugh a couple of times.

The two of them appeared in the doorway a moment later, and they paused when they saw that Vinnie and Mason were already working out.

“Mind if we join you two?” Tomas asked, shooting them his trademark half smile.

“It’s your gym,” Vinnie said, back to playing the ice queen again.

Mason knew him well enough to know he was far from unaffected by Tomas’s appearance, trying too hard to play it cool. He wasn’t worried though. Vinnie didn’t break his promises. He might get a little scared after sharing something so personal with Tomas last night, but he’d still try.

Marv snorted and moved over to one of the treadmills while Tomas moved closer to him and Vinnie. “It is, but you’re guests in our home. It’s called being polite, Vincent.”

Mason’s eyes widened, and he looked between the two of them.

“No one calls me that,” Vinnie said tightly, keeping his eyes on his barbell.

“I doubt I will often either,” Tomas said. “Unless you’re being particularly bratty first thing in the morning, gatito. In which case, there will be more consequences than your full name.”

Vinnie sucked in a breath, eyes darting up and locking on Tomas’s. Mason suddenly felt like a third wheel, but not in a bad way. He got it. He’d been happily wrapped up in Tomas’s orbit since the moment he’d arrived at the clubhouse. He’d gotten weeks of stolen glances and shared meals, soft smiles. He didn’t mind one bit that the two of them were still feeling each other out, finding their footing.

Though he couldn’t wait until it was the three of them finding their way forward together.

“I’m not really a morning person,” Vinnie said, and it was the closest thing to an apology Tomas was going to get, and he seemed to know that, giving him a quick nod and then a wink.

Then, Tomas turned on Mason, his eyebrows shooting up as he stared at the T-shirt Mason had turned into a workout shirt, cutting off the sleeves and the bottom to turn it into a crop top.

His black shorts were low-riding and like a second skin on him, showing off his pierced belly button, but Tomas’s gaze was stuck on the image and words across his chest.

He glanced down and then grinned up at Tomas. “What’s the matter? You don’t like pound cake?”

Tomas snorted and shook his head, giving a soft touch underneath Vinnie’s and then Mason’s chins before turning and heading over to the elliptical next to Marv.

Mason bit his bottom lip and watched him go before offering Vinnie a smug smile and stage-whispered, “I told you he’d like my shirt.”

It had an illustration of a pound cake covered in white icing with the words “pound my cake, daddy” above and below it. Considering he’d been keeping his distance despite what he actually wanted from Tomas for the last three weeks, he’d thought he should send a very clear and direct signal this morning.

The chains were off. If Tomas was willing to try with them, then Mason was all in. Vinnie and Tomas could figure out their shit as they went, but Mason was eager for all of the fun and sexy things Ollie got to have with his boyfriend.

“At least his face looks a little better this morning,” Vinnie said, a lot quieter than Mason had been.

Mason wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking at, if maybe they were talking about two different people. As far as he could tell, Tomas’s face was even more gross than it had been the night before, the bruises more vivid and the swelling still there around his eye and lip.

Though he supposed there wasn’t any active bleeding anymore, so that was an improvement.

He glanced at Marv and gave him a quick once-over, ignoring the sexy sleeves of tattoos he had and taking note that the others had been right. He really did only have his right hand wrapped, though it didn’t have a full cast, so he probably hadn’t broken anything. His face was clear of any sort of damage though.

He tried not to hold it against him, considering Marv had been nothing but nice to him since he’d arrived. But a small, petty part of him was upset Tomas looked like he’d been jumped by a dozen guys, whereas Marv was basically fine.

They were just starting another circuit when Six appeared in the doorway, oddly silent for a man as big as he was. Thumping loudly down the steps behind him could only be Ollie.

As soon as he appeared in the doorway next to Six and spotted Vinnie and Mason, he beelined toward them, groaning dramatically. “Who let me drink so much last night?”

Mason laughed. “You barely had anything to drink that I saw.”

“That’s the problem,” Ollie said, like that made any sense at all. “Six rarely lets me drink at all, so anytime I indulge a little? Instant hangover.”

“It’s almost like we’re almost thirty,” Vinnie said snarkily.

“You bite your tongue!” Ollie said. “I’m two whole years younger than you two. I’m still in the prime of my twenties.”

Mason shook his head at the both of them, then remembering the horror he’d woken up to that morning, he pointed an accusing finger at Ollie. “That fucked-up meme you sent me has ruined my childhood!”

“He didn’t just send it to you,” Vinnie reminded him. “I’m pretty sure he traumatized poor Emmett.”

Six appeared behind Ollie like a phantom, firm frown on his face. “What did you do?”

Ollie whirled around, the picture of innocence. “Nothing, it was just a meme. They’re being babies.”

Vinnie snorted, doing a couple more bicep curls as Mason gaped at him and said, “It was horrifying, and you should be ashamed.”

Ollie glanced at him over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out.

“Ollie, what did it say?”

Shoulders crumpling, Ollie turned back to his daddy and said, “I swear it wasn’t that bad. It was just a picture of a flesh-colored dildo with the word ‘Andy’ written on the suction part.”

“And?” Vinnie said, setting down his barbell. “Say the bad part out loud, Ollie.”

Grunting in annoyance, Ollie threw up his hands. “Okay, the N was written backwards.”

Six looked confused, his stern face scrunching as he tried to figure out the significance.

“You know,” Mason said helpfully, “Like it was on the feet of Woody and Buzz on Toy Story.”

Recognition dawned on his face, and he turned a look on Ollie. “You sent that to Emmett too?”

Ollie rolled his eyes. “He might be a little, but he’s not actually a child. He can handle a sex joke or two. Besides, Andy had a toy named Buzz as a child. Did we really think he wouldn’t grow up to enjoy adult toys too?”

“You are terrible,” Mason said, laughing and returning to the bench where he’d been sitting to do his own bicep curls.

“Agreed, I think this calls for a punishment later,” Six said in a low voice.

Oliver shivered and leaned against his chest. “Promise?”

“Such a brat,” Six said, but it was said with such fondness Mason’s chest ached a little.

That, right there, that was what he wanted. Someone who fulfilled every want and need, who had no issue possessing him, owning him, taking him all the way up, and then bringing him back down safely to Earth. He didn’t want to be jealous of his best friend anymore. He just wanted what he had with someone a little less scary than Six.

Water beat down on his back, but he barely even noticed, surging up onto the balls of his feet to connect his mouth with Vinnie’s.

“Missed you so much,” he mumbled against his lips.

Vinnie wrapped his arms around him, kissing him back with equal passion and desire. “Missed you too, Mase. Sorry I tried to ruin things.”

Mason shushed him, gently touching the back of his head and neck and shoulders, getting in as many small touches as he could to try and fill the space left in his chest over the last few weeks.

“It’s okay. When you’re ready to talk about why your head was up your ass, I’m here to listen, and I’m ready to move forward. We don’t have to keep dwelling on everything. We’re back home, we’re together, we can be happy.”

Vinnie kissed down the side of his neck, running his hands up and down Mason’s back. “You’ve always made me happy. I’m sorry if you didn’t feel that way.”

“You make me happy too,” Mason said softly, cupping the sides of Vinnie’s face to hold him still so he could gaze up at him. The light over the shower wasn’t very bright, leaving the space dim. The dark tiles added to the private, ensconced vibe, like the two of them were alone in the world for a moment.

Though if he listened too hard, he was sure he’d be able to hear Ollie moaning just on the other side of the wall. But he kept his focus on Vinnie instead.

The night before, by the time he had gone up to bed, Vinnie had already been passed out, his earplugs shoved in and classical music playing on his phone to drown out the sounds from downstairs. Even though they hadn’t had a chance to reconnect sexually, he’d still been grateful just to have him in the bed next to him. He’d stripped down and crawled in, wrapping himself around Vinnie as tightly as he was allowed. Vinnie liked to be able to move a little too much while he slept for Mason to stay fully velcroed around him, but he’d still gotten in as much cuddling as he could.

But now, as they washed the sweat away from their workouts, they gently touched each other like they hadn’t seen one other in months instead of weeks. But even before he’d left, they hadn’t had this. They’d shared a bed in an apartment, but they hadn’t shared themselves. Not for a while.

Mason had been too unhappy, and Vinnie had been too stubborn and stressed. He took it as a good sign that things were going to move forward and would continue to get better.

For long, languid minutes, they just kissed and touched, their fingers gentle and exploratory. As the heat between them began to build up and up, Mason started to squirm against him, needing something more, a firmer touch.

Vinnie chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin of his throat. “What do you want? My mouth?”

Mason nodded, grateful and nearly in tears from relief as Vinnie sank to his knees in front of him, not hesitating to run his tongue up the underside of his cock. Vinnie wrapped his lips around his head and slowly worked his way down his shaft. It was wet and tight, just the way he liked it.

Vinnie’s fingers fondled his sac and then played with his taint before smoothing back between his cheeks to pet at his hole. Mason moaned, his hands shooting out to steady him against the walls of the shower stall.

He spread his legs, giving Vinnie more access. He wished he could say that he lasted, but he was so pent-up, having gone so long and been surrounded by hot, sexually liberated men, that he barely lasted more than a couple of minutes before he shot down Vinnie’s throat with a loud groan.

It took him longer, probably, to catch his breath.

Vinnie pushed to his feet and leaned against the tiles to smirk at him as he licked his lips obscenely. “Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

Mason swatted at him even as he carefully dropped down himself. “Shut up. It’s been ages. I’m surprised I didn’t blow as soon as you breathed on it.”

Vinnie chuckled, but it turned into a moan as soon as Mason got his first taste, using his tongue to lick all over the length of him. He didn’t suck him down right away like Vinnie had. Vinnie preferred to be teased, tormented, driven to the edge. Though the hard tile under his knees wouldn’t allow him the amount of time he would’ve liked to give him, he gave him as much as he could, licking and sucking, driving him mad with desire.

They’d been doing this for so long—way before Vinnie’s parents had caught them—they both knew all the ways to drive the other one crazy. It was comforting in a way, the steady reassurance of familiarity.

When Vinnie’s breaths drew shorter and louder, his fingers sinking into Mason’s longer hair and holding tight, he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and rubbed his tongue against the smooth skin, loving the weight of it in his mouth, and then he sucked. Hard.

Vinnie grunted above him, bending over him as he shot into Mason’s mouth, filling him up with come. Mason held on to it, waiting until Vinnie was done, and then carefully climbed to his feet.

He pressed in close and found Vinnie’s panting mouth, using his tongue to feed Vinnie some of his own seed, sharing the taste and intimacy. Vinnie groaned, his hands landing on Mason’s ass and squeezing hard as he licked inside his mouth, cleaning every inch, devouring him with more energy than Mason felt he should have after such a good orgasm.

After they both calmed, they carefully washed each other, Mason floating on a cloud of happiness.

He wanted every day to be like that day.

The only thing that would’ve made it better was if Tomas was in the shower with them. His big body wouldn’t have actually fit in the small space with the two of them already in there, but he wondered if Tomas had a house of his own. He knew he didn’t live in the clubhouse, so he had to have some space. Whether an apartment or house didn’t really matter to Mason, he just hoped the bed and shower were big enough for three.

“I have to go talk to Lee tomorrow.”

“About getting your job back?” Mason asked, rinsing the conditioner out of his hair as Vinnie stepped out of the stall and grabbed a towel.

“Yeah, he said it wasn’t an interview, but I think that’s basically how he’s going to treat it. Hopefully, he doesn’t make me grovel too much.”

Mason made an affronted noise as he turned the water off and joined him on the squishy bath mat. He planted his hands on his hips and stood there, dripping on the floor. “He better not make you grovel at all. He’d be lucky to have you back. You need to remember that, Vin. You’re incredibly talented. You can’t tell me that Atlanta didn’t offer you a permanent position. I know we didn’t talk about it, but there’s no way they didn’t.”

Vinnie shrugged but didn’t deny it.

“And the reason Lee was upset about you leaving was because of how good of a respiratory therapist you are. Your patients and their families adore you. How many times have you come home with little gifts and baked goods from your patients’ families as a thank-you for taking such good care of their kids or parents or spouses?”

Still, Vinnie looked skeptical.

Mason held up his finger, nearly poking Vinnie in the face when he reached around Mason to grab him a towel as well. “You have to know what you’re worth, Vinnie, and you’re worth a whole hell of a lot. So you go in there with your head held high, and you demand not only your job back but an increase in pay for the added experience you gained.”

Vinnie raised his brows. “An increase in pay, huh?”

Mason nodded firmly and then started drying himself off. “Definitely.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said with a soft smile. “How do you feel about maybe going to dinner tomorrow night?”

“With who? Like Penny and Ollie? Get the old gang together?” He was bent over, drying his legs, but as he stood again, Vinnie cupped the bottom of his chin, not unlike the way Tomas had done to him a time or two, and held his face firm.

“No, Mase, just you and me. On a date.”

His insides turned to goo as he practically melted onto the floor at Vinnie’s feet. “We haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

“Another mistake.”

“I’d love to,” Mason said, meaning it with his whole heart.

“Me too.”

They were still smiling at each other like giddy schoolboys as they stepped back into their borrowed bedroom, but Vinnie came to a screeching halt, Mason bumping into the back of him. He looked around his wide shoulders and smiled at Tomas where he sat on the edge of the bed. It was unmade and messy as hell, but the whole room was since Vinnie hadn’t had a chance to straighten up since he’d gotten there.

“Hey, how long have you been waiting?”

“Not that long,” Tomas said, eyeing both of them like they were prized steaks and he was a ravenous lion. “Just long enough to hear the fun ending in there.”

Mason wasn’t even a little embarrassed. He just hoped Tomas had been turned on by the sounds of them getting off in the shower.

Vinnie cleared his throat and turned away, keeping his back to Tomas as he walked over to his suitcase and carefully crouched down, keeping his towel wrapped around his waist as he grabbed some clothes.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” Tomas said teasingly.

“I told you,” Vinnie said quietly. “I don’t like audiences.”

Mason frowned. It wasn’t like Tomas had deliberately spied on them. He’d probably poked his head in when they didn’t answer the door and then, when he realized they were in the bathroom, had just come in to wait.

Vinnie was moving back across the room, headed for the bathroom with his bundle of clothes, but he stopped when Tomas held a hand up.

“You’re right, you did,” Tomas said. “I apologize if me overhearing made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry for teasing you about it.”

Vinnie looked over his shoulder at him. “I wasn’t just being flirty last night,” Vinnie said carefully. “I’m never going to be comfortable giving you a blowjob in the middle of the clubhouse.”

Tomas pushed to his feet, closed the distance between the two of them, grabbed Vinnie’s arm, and tugged him around to stand in front of him.

“I don’t need that.” He glanced at Mason. “I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to though.”

Mason grinned as his cheeks flushed. He wasn’t sure he was quite ready to do that in front of the whole club, but he knew for a fact this bedroom had quite the history of voyeurism. Maybe they could try something smaller, like inviting their neighbors for a revival of exhibitionism in the space.

Tomas turned back to Vinnie. “When you said the things you liked were private and not for public viewing, I didn’t realize you meant even from me unless I was involved.”

Vinnie dropped his eyes. “I guess I didn’t mean you too. I was just… surprised to find you in here.”

Cupping the bottom of Vinnie’s chin, Tomas raised his face.

Mason’s stomach clenched, and for the first time, he realized just how much Vinnie had been filling in for him, doing his best to give him certain things to try and make up for the fact that they didn’t have a Dom. God, he’d been so selfish!

Vinnie’s whole expression melted, and he knew for a fact he looked the same way when either one of them touched him like that. Possessive yet gentle. Vinnie needed so much more than Mason had been giving him over the years.

He’d twisted himself into the shape of something he wasn’t just so he could try and fill in the blank spot of their third partner for Mason.

And Mason hadn’t even noticed.

“We’re still figuring things out between the three of us,” Tomas said. “If you don’t want me involved all the time when the two of you are together, that’s okay. You and I will have moments where Mason’s not involved. Same with Mason and I without you. It’s okay. It’s healthy. It’s the only way it’ll work.”

Vinnie stared at Tomas with open yearning, and Mason didn’t think he’d ever seen anything like it before. He’d thought he’d have to remind Vinnie to keep an open mind when it came to Tomas, but that wouldn’t be the case. His poor Vin needed so much Mason had a feeling he’d fall right into Tomas’s steady hands.

Vinnie nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

Tomas gently tugged him forward into his chest, palming the back of his head to hold him against him. Mason ached for his best friend, boyfriend, and soul mate. Vinnie was… everything. His other half. He was so glad he was finally getting some of the things Vinnie had been going so long without. It hurt his heart but in a good way.

Tomas looked over at him and gave him that gorgeous half smile of his. “Did I hear you two make a date for tomorrow night?”

Mason grinned. “You did.”

“Alright. Well then, I’d like to take each of you out sometime later in the week.”

“Separately?” Vinnie asked, his voice muffled against Tomas’s collarbones.

“Separately and then together. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay with me,” Mason said. “My week’s wide open.”

Tomas grinned at him, even as he kept his gentle hold on Vinnie. “How do you feel about Tuesday?”

Happiness exploded inside Mason. “It’s a date.”

CHAPTER 11

“How’d you get so good at bowling?”

Mason grinned at him before taking a huge bite of his taco. “Me, Vinnie, Penny, and Ollie used to be part of a bowling league.”

Tomas glanced up at the ceiling, trying to imagine Ollie in bowling shoes.

Laughing, Mason finished the last of his taco. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, but he actually bought used ones, sanitized the shit out of them, and then painted and bedazzled them.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “That makes more sense. Well, I’m glad you didn’t take it easy on me.”

“You learn a lot about a man by how well he handles being defeated by someone half his size.”

Tomas leaned back in his seat, his chimichanga long gone. “Oh, yeah? What did you learn?”

Wiping his hands and mouth, he copied Tomas, leaning back on his side of the booth and holding Tomas’s gaze. “I learned that you could handle it with grace, that you never once felt the need to try and insult me or find some excuse for why you didn’t play better than I did. You let me enjoy the moment.”

Tomas wasn’t sure what to say to that, a little flustered at the soft praise. “That’s how any decent man would react,” he said gruffly.

“Key word there being decent,” Mason said and cocked his head. “Nowadays, it seems like a rarity, don’t you think?”

Maybe. Sure, there were shitty people out there, a lot of men especially, but he was surrounded every single day by good and decent men and women. They all worked hard to support their community and to keep those at risk safe. So no, to him, it wasn’t rare, but he could understand how it may feel that way to someone outside the MC’s bubble.

“You’re keeping better company now,” he said, admiring the way Mason bit his lip. He’d worn a tight, short-sleeve shirt and jeans for their date, giving Tomas a fantastic view and distracting him every single time it was Mason’s turn on their lane.

“Agreed,” Mason said and picked up his next taco.

They chatted for a while about Tank’s birthday party and some of the places Mason and Vinnie had visited while they were in Georgia. Their conversation was easy and flowed from topic to topic without any awkward pauses.

“I’m sort of surprised you didn’t order the tamales,” Tomas said after Mason finally finished his third taco. “You seemed to enjoy Jill’s quite a bit the other night.”

Mason slapped a hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. “I would never cheat on your sister like that.”

Tomas laughed, deep and loud, turning a few heads in their direction, but both of them ignored the stares. “Just when you’ve got me convinced you’re nothing but sweetness, you pull out that sass.”

“I have to keep you interested somehow.”

“That is not ever going to be an issue,” Tomas assured him, pleased as shit when Mason blushed and dropped his gaze to the table.

“Good to know.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Is your family from Mexico?”

Tomas nodded. “A couple generations back. My abuela came here when she was newly married, and my mom and her siblings were born here.”

“Are you close with them?”

Shrugging, he took a sip of the beer he’d been nursing since they’d been seated. “My abuela died a decade ago, and my mom moved down to Arizona a few years back, said she was tired of the winters here. I talk to her on the phone quite often, but I don’t get down there to visit with her as much as I’d like. Luckily, Jill and her husband go at least once a year with the kids.”

“Your dad?” Mason asked softly.

Tomas shook his head. “He died when I was young. Cancer.”

Mason slid his hand across the table, grabbing Tomas’s and squeezing. The pain of his father’s death was an old wound, scarred over and only really hurt when he pressed on it, but he still appreciated the sweet gesture.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, cielito.”

“My parents died when I was in high school in a car accident,” Mason offered with a sad sort of smile of commiseration.

It was Tomas’s turn to clutch at his hand as sympathy ripped through him. He couldn’t imagine losing both of his parents at the same time. “Who’d you end up living with?”

“Vinnie and his parents. We only had two years left of school, and I was over there all the time before that, so it seemed like a natural fit. Especially since I didn’t have any other family in the state. They were able to get approved as emergency foster parents and then went through the process of legally adopting me. It took nearly the whole two years,” he added, his voice a little distant.

“Are you still close with his folks, then?”

Mason shook his head. “Not long before we graduated, they found out that Vinnie and I were a couple, not just best friends, and they kicked us out right afterward, and we haven’t seen them since.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Tomas said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe people who do shit like that. Has it just been the two of you since you were eighteen, then?”

Mason nodded. “We struggled at first. Vinnie knew what he wanted to be and was able to get into the two-year program at a community college to be a respiratory therapist, but I had a hard time figuring it out. I did about a year and a half at the university here in town before I finally accepted that it wasn’t for me and ended up dropping out.”

He glanced at Tomas then, a little vulnerable, like he was worried Tomas would think worse of him for not having a college degree.

“It’s not for everyone,” Tomas agreed. “I was in my thirties before I finished my master’s. Jill got a certificate from a community college—something computer related—and then she and David opened the restaurant. Everyone has their own path.”

Mason stared at him for a long second and then exclaimed, “You have a master’s degree?”

Tomas chuckled. “I do. I have an MBA.”

“You have an MBA and you spend your days managing a bunch of unruly bikers?”

“There’s a little bit more to it than that,” he defended good-naturedly, “but essentially, yes.”

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised,” Mason said, shaking his head. “It’s not like I think you’re not smart enough for that. It’s just not what I was expecting.”

“It’s alright, cielito. I’m not insulted.”

“Well, good, because that’s impressive as hell. It goes along with all the other impressive things you and the MC do.”

Tomas shrugged. “A lot of that is due to other people. It’s rarely just me.”

Making a face like he didn’t believe him, Mason asked, “How did you guys get involved helping the shelter?”

“When Six joined up, he didn’t really talk a lot⁠—”

“Unlike now?” Mason said sarcastically.

“Don’t sass me when I’m telling you something.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Mason said softly, glancing out at the rest of the restaurant, but no one was paying them attention anymore.

Tomas gave his hand a quick squeeze, letting him know it was okay—the sassing and the honorific in public. “Anyway, Six didn’t talk a lot, so it took me a while to realize he was visiting his mom pretty regularly and helping her out with stuff and that the two of them volunteered at SAVE every week.”

“That’s the DV shelter, right?”

Tomas nodded. “Yeah. Six mostly was doing maintenance and repairs, fixing stuff, and added some security features to the property. Then one day, he knocked on my door and said, ‘I think we should help these women.’ I thought he meant that everyone should volunteer at the shelter, which I wasn’t against, but I didn’t know if the women would be comfortable with a bunch of bikers coming around constantly.”

Mason giggled. “That’s a fair point.”

“He said he’d been talking to the director, Gayle, and they’d come up with an idea. And that’s how the red phone was born. He and I brought it to the club, and we voted to help during emergency situations. It was a little while later when we added going to court hearings.”

“That’s so amazing,” Mason said, eyes a little wide. “The fact that he was volunteering there anyway and that he came up with this other, bigger way to help and that everyone just embraced it? It’s truly incredible.”

“Not everyone embraced it right away, but people got on board, or they got the fuck out.” He grinned at Mason’s surprised look. “We’ve always been a very community-oriented club. Back when I co-founded the Devil’s Hands down in Louisiana, we were the opposite of that. The clubhouse was out in the middle of the bayou. We lived on the fringes of society, and that’s the way we wanted it. But it got exhausting fast. One of the founders, Damian, started doing some real illegal shit, got into guns and racketeering, so me and the other founder bounced. He went west, and I went north. I almost didn’t start a new chapter I was so turned off by everything that had happened.”

“Why did you?” Mason asked.

“You get used to the camaraderie.” He laughed, a little self-conscious. “It’s different than just friends or family. The bond you form with the people in a club with you is different. You have each other’s backs. You have to be able to trust them with your life.”

“I like that,” Mason said. “You’re lucky.”

“I am lucky,” Tomas agreed. “Although, I could do without some of the damn paperwork.”

Mason burst into laughter. “What kind of paperwork does a motorcycle club have?”

Tomas groaned dramatically. “You’d be surprised.”

“No, for real. What do you do, holed up in your office all the time?”

He hesitated, reluctant to share something for the first time that evening. Confessing his struggles with his workload didn’t seem like first-date material, but they’d already talked about their parents’ deaths and a whole host of other topics. Plus, it wasn’t like they didn’t know each other.

He was hoping to build something long term and with the sort of depth that a D/s relationship required. He needed to be open and honest.

“How much do you know about the businesses the MC is involved with?”

Mason shook his head. “I think Ollie mentioned once that you guys co-owned your sister’s restaurant. Is that right?”

Tomas nodded. “It is. They started struggling during the recession and were going to have to shut down. Instead, I used some of the club’s money to invest in them. We also help by going there and eating quite often, having her cater different events for the MC, stuff like that.”

“Well, that was nice of you guys, but where did the club get the money to begin with?”

Tomas hesitated and then said, “Some of it was dues the members pay, but… most of it was from my personal accounts.”

“That you earned after getting your degree, Mr. MBA?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve always been good with money and knowing when and how to invest it.”

“Does Jill know that it was basically just you buying into her restaurant?”

“Not at first,” Tomas admitted with a grin. “When she found out later, she tried to pay me back, and I refused. That’s how I end up with a freezer full of tamales once a month.”

“What?” Mason asked, laughing.

“She never wanted to just serve Mexican food, but she likes to do a monthly special where people can order takeout or come in, and all they serve all day is tamales. It’s incredibly popular. And I always end up with a shit-ton. She likes to say that it’s how she’s paying me back for the loan, but I don’t consider it a loan.”

“That’s hilarious,” Mason said, shaking his head with a wide smile. “So I ate your loan repayment tamales?”

“You did, though I didn’t tell her. She probably would just try and give me more next time.”

“What other businesses is the club involved with?” Mason asked, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward.

“We also co-own the bar.”

“The one in front of the clubhouse? The Devil’s Garrote?”

Tomas nodded. “Demarcus manages it. It was his baby long before I came along and realized what a good investment it would be.”

“Is that it?”

Tomas shook his head. “We also own about a dozen rental properties.”

“Rental properties?” Mason said in surprise. “Like houses?”

“Most of the housing in the area is geared toward college students. So when we can, we buy properties and rent them to non-students, first-time renters, and young families. People like that, who would struggle to find a place to live in the area otherwise.”

Mason stared at him.

“What?” Tomas touched his face, wondering if he’d had food on it the whole time.

He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“You’re right. It’s not, but I’ll tell you later. What else?”

Tomas narrowed his eyes but decided to let it go. “We also own a club downtown that the students like to go to. It’s a pretty popular place. I tried to get in on Viper’s studio, but she was too smart to let anyone else near that. And we’re working on a garage with towing services, but the man I want to run it is playing hard to get.”

Mason swallowed. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s quite the portfolio.”

“It is. And the way the MC is structured, it makes things complicated. So… lots of paperwork.”

“Is that why Marv’s always in your office?”

Tomas chuckled. “Yes, thank fuck. I finally convinced him to actually be the club’s Treasurer, so he’s been helping me get things more organized. Plus, he likes to come in regularly and scold me for improperly managing the club’s assets.”

Mason sat up straight, spine completely stiff. “Excuse me? He’s criticizing the way you’re running the club?”

God, he was adorable when he was all upset on Tomas’s behalf.

“No, not exactly,” he chuckled. “He just feels like we’re stretched too thin.”

Mason narrowed his eyes and looked at him, really looked at him. “You mean he’s worried you’re stretched too thin.”

Tomas pulled a face but nodded. “Yeah, people try and help out where they can, but a lot of people are busy with their regular jobs—including Marv—and with their families, so it all kind of falls on my shoulders.”

“That’s bullshit. You can’t do all that on your own! Not to mention making sure everyone’s covering their shifts for the red phone and that people are showing up to court when they need to, and any other million tasks that you’re doing that I don’t even know about.”

“Well, somebody’s got to pay the bills so the lights stay on.” He said it lightly, even though he’d been feeling the same way for a while.

“That’s what the Treasurer is for!” he exclaimed.

The table closest to them was an older couple, maybe in their sixties. The man looked over at Mason and scowled. “Do you mind keeping it down? Not everyone in the restaurant needs to hear everything going on in your life.”

Immediately, Mason shrunk in on himself, eyes downcast. “Sorry.”

Anger ate at his insides. Tomas held his hand out, and Mason taking it right away helped douse some of the flames, but he still turned to the old man and said, “How about you mind your own fucking business, or else I’ll come over there and teach you some damn manners?”

The guy jerked back in alarm and then waved their server down, asking for their meals to go and saying they’d be waiting in their car. Within two minutes, he and his wife were outside, scurrying into their vehicle. Once the coast was clear, he turned back to Mason, surprised to find him fighting back laughter, his hand covering his mouth to muffle the sounds.

“That was a little extreme, Mr. We Care about the Community.”

He made sure he had Mason’s attention before he said, “No one’s talking to you like that, not in front of me.”

His laughter dried up quickly, and they stared at each other. The tension between them ratcheted up from the low simmer it’d been since Mason had climbed into his truck in those fuck-me jeans.

Mason licked his lips. “Do you know what I do for a living?”

Unperturbed by the change in subject, Tomas shook his head. “Ollie said something about content creation, but I’m going to be honest, cielito, I don’t know what that means.”

Mason gave him a weak smile and then swallowed and said in a soft voice, “I have a channel on a site called… Discreet Gazes.”

Tomas stared at him, his mind churning, trying to put the dots together. “Like a YouTube channel?”

“Sort of,” Mason said, “but Discreet Gazes caters to people who… like to watch.”

“Watch what?” Tomas asked.

“Other people. Sexually,” he added when Tomas still stared at him blankly.

“Oh.” He thought about the ring light set up in Mason’s room at the clubhouse pointed toward the bed. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Mason said slowly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. He leaned over the table and said softly, “I mostly just use toys or my fingers to fuck myself, but people pay fifteen dollars a month to have access to all my videos and pictures.”

“Fifteen dollars?” Tomas said, frowning. “Are you sure you’re charging enough?”

He wasn’t sure there was a limit to what he’d pay to have unfettered access to watching Mason fingering himself or using a dildo to fuck himself. His cock thickened in his jeans at the images his brain was conjuring, and he had to adjust in his seat when it grew uncomfortable.

Mason sank his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes on the table. When he lifted them, there was humor in his gaze. “I have a few hundred subscribers.”

“A few hundred?” Tomas asked incredulously.

“Yeah, a little over three.”

Tomas leaned forward so their faces were only inches apart above their empty plates. “Are you telling me that you make about five grand a month just jerking yourself off on camera?”

Mason rolled his lips over his teeth, snorting and nodding. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah.”

“Well, that’s just impressive,” he finally said, mind blown.

“Thank you. Some people don’t like it, so before things went further, I wanted to let you know.”

Tomas sank his fingers into Mason’s hair and tugged him forward another couple of inches, leaving only a breath between their mouths. “Cielito, I’m the president of a motorcycle club. If you think some dirty videos are going to bother me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“What if someone finds out that you’re dating someone who’s a camboy?”

Tomas easily read between the lines. “You mean, what if my family finds out?”

Mason’s head barely moved as he tried to nod, but Tomas held him firm. “I don’t want to come between you and your family.”

“If my family has a problem with it, they can bring it to me. But considering they’ve known I’m poly for over a decade and none of them had a problem with it, I doubt this would make a difference.”

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Shit, cielito, I’m so sure.”

“Should we get out of here?” Mason asked softly.

Before Tomas could say hell yes, someone appeared at the edge of their table.

“Tomas, it’s so good to see you,” a man said in Spanish.

He released Mason and leaned back, looking up at owner of the restaurant. He responded in Spanish, knowing the man preferred it. “Fernando, how are you?”

“I’m good. Very good. Business has been great. I appreciate you and your friends coming in so often.”

“It’s not exactly a hardship,” Tomas said, giving him a small smile. “As long as you continue making such excellent food, we’ll keep coming back.”

“I’ll do my best,” Fernando said with a chuckle, then looked at Mason before smiling at Tomas. “On a date?”

“We are.”

“I’ll let you get back to it.”

“We were actually just about to head out. Can you have our server bring the check over?”

Fernando waved his hand in the air. “No, your money’s no good tonight. You take your nice young man and go have fun.”

Tomas held out his hand. “Thank you, friend.” After Fernando left, he turned to Mason and switched back to English. “Let’s get out of here.”

They were halfway back to his house when Mason said, “I still can’t believe you left that woman a fifty-dollar tip.”

Tomas chuckled. “The owner comped our meal. What was I supposed to do? Not leave a tip at all?”

“Our bill wasn’t going to be two hundred and fifty dollars.” Mason shook his head, but he was smiling at Tomas in a way he wanted to see all the fucking time. It made him feel ten feet tall.

“You know, considering how much money you make, you’re kind of stingy.”

Mason gasped. “That is not true. I’m just saying, that was a huge tip for a Tuesday night.”

“Everyone could use a big tip every once in a while.” He turned and winked at Mason, who rolled his eyes.

“Is that a sex joke?”

“Only if you want it to be, cielito.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously handsome, you mean.”

Laughing, he playfully slapped at Tomas’s arm. “Nope, just plain ridiculous. Now, tell me more about what you do for the club. It’s more than just managing the businesses that you guys own, right?”

“Some days,” Tomas said, reaching over to grip the back of Mason’s seat. “I try to be available as much as possible for members in case they have things they need help with or need assistance on a red phone call. And then sometimes I have Chamber of Commerce meetings I have to go to or other stuff that takes me out into the community. Lately, I’ve been dealing with the new fucking mayor and sheriff.”

Mason glanced at him sharply. “Are they targeting the club?”

“In a way,” Tomas said. “Nothing explicit, but they both ran on campaigns that were basically veiled threats of getting rid of the club. Now the health inspector tried to get Jill’s restaurant shut down, and I had to basically threaten him with legal action to get him to redo it and then stand there the whole time.”

“They made up stuff wrong with her restaurant?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tomas said. “She runs a tight ship and a clean-as-fuck kitchen. When she showed me the list of citations, I about shit my pants. It was all bullshit cross-contamination risk stuff, like people not properly cleaning and spoiled food being kept in the walk-in. It was all ridiculous.”

“That’s crazy. Are you worried about it?” Mason asked, laying a hand on Tomas’s thigh.

He took a breath and let it out slowly as they turned onto the road that the clubhouse was on. “Some,” he admitted, glancing over at Mason. “The guys have to be very aware of what they’re doing, especially when they’re out on red phone calls. Shit’s always tense and potentially dangerous, but when you have the county sheriff looking to make his bones by putting a few of you in jail, things can get dicey a lot quicker.”

“That’s scary,” Mason said softly.

Tomas looked at him. “I don’t want you to worry about it. That’s something that I’m going to handle. Sometimes people just need to be reminded.”

“Reminded of what?”

“Who the fuck they’re dealing with.”

“I can’t believe you live right next door to the clubhouse,” Mason said with a laugh as they walked in the front door.

Tomas shrugged. “I was lucky enough to pick it up for a bargain, and I’ve been working on fixing it up since.”

Mason looked around with wide eyes. “I can tell. Considering the outside looks like the whole place might be falling down soon, but it’s really nice in here.”

Tomas closed the door behind them. “Are you telling me my house is shitty-looking from the outside?”

Whirling around, Mason smiled innocently at him. “I mean, I didn’t say it like that, but if the shoe fits.”

“Such a sassy boy.”

Mason moved closer to him, and Tomas leaned against the door behind him, letting Mason get all up in his space, sliding his hands up and around his shoulders. “You like it?”

Tomas smiled. “I do. You remember what we talked about in the car?”

He nodded. “I remember, and I know how the traffic light system works.”

At the verbal eye roll, Tomas brought his hand down on Mason’s ass in a quick, sharp spank. Mason sucked in a breath, staring at him with wide, begging eyes. “And you’ll use the traffic light system if you need to.”

“I will if I need to, but I doubt I will,” he said, running his teeth over his bottom lip.

“You said the other day you are interested in the rules Six and Ollie have. Can you tell me what kinds of rules you’re interested in having with me?”

Mason licked his lips. “I really only like one of their rules. The rest, we can figure out what we want together.”

“Okay, which one do you like?”

“The one where unless Ollie is sick or safe words, Six has complete access to his body whenever and however he wants.”

Tomas let out a low sound, gripping Mason and tugging him even closer. “You can’t just say shit like that to me, cielito.”

“But I want to. I want to be available to you like that.”

Tomas ran his tongue over his teeth, all sorts of scenarios running through his head. “Alright, we’ll consider that our first rule. Are you sick right now?”

Mason shook his head slowly, a small grin starting to form on his lips.

“Do you need to safe word?”

He shook his head again, eyes nearly shining with eagerness.

“Then let’s go upstairs so you can see the surprise I got you.”

Mason raced up the steps ahead of him, pausing just at the top until Tomas told him which door to go in. By the time he reached his bedroom, Mason had lifted the flogger he’d left on the foot of the bed and was running his fingers through the strands.

“You got this for me, for us? Can we try it a little?”

“Absolutely.”

Mason set it back on the bed and then moved toward Tomas, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. He watched, entranced, as some of the tension from his shoulders and around his eyes melted away. Then Mason stood there and waited for Tomas to tell him what to do, looking more at peace than he’d ever seen him.

“Such a good boy,” Tomas said, clasping the sides of his neck and tugging him upward as he bent forward and took his mouth for the first time, claiming him in a kiss, possessing him with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

Mason easily followed his lead, never once pushing for more.

“You’re doing so good,” Tomas said against his wet lips. “You’re being so good for me.”

Mason whimpered softly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He pressed a few more lingering kisses to those tempting lips, the same ones he’d been thinking about since he first saw them when Mason rolled down his window and looked up at him with wet eyes. Before he could get too lost in their taste, he forced himself to pull back. “Strip, and then clasp your hands behind your head.”

Mason quickly did as he was told, efficiently stripping down and folding his clothes, leaving them in a neat pile on the floor.

Tomas raised a brow. “Given the state of your room at the clubhouse, I’m assuming that’s for me.”

Flushing, Mason ducked his head as he clasped his hands behind his neck and spread his feet out a little wider, securing his stance. “I noticed you prefer things neat.”

“I do. I appreciate you taking the extra effort. That was very kind and thoughtful, cielito.”

Mason’s lids dropped to half-mast, a shiver working down his body at the words. He hadn’t been wrong about liking to be praised, and Tomas planned on heaping it on him as often as he could.

He took a minute to truly appreciate how beautiful Mason was, running his eyes all the way from his slightly disheveled, wavy hair down to his perfectly painted red toenails.

And all of the delicious spots in between.

Under his scrutiny, Mason’s dick hardened and lengthened, flushing with color.

“You’re so gorgeous with clothes on, but without… you’re a fucking masterpiece.”

The smile Mason gave him was full of happiness and gratitude, his cheeks turning a light pink and his cock giving a small jerk. His boy really loved to be appreciated.

“Now, turn around, and let me enjoy the back.”

Mason spun, moving so quickly he nearly stumbled, but he quickly righted himself and straightened his spine, elbows straight out and fingers interlocked at the back of his head.

He wasn’t heavily muscled, and now that Tomas knew what he did for a living, he had to figure that was a specific choice, considering how often he used the club’s gym while he’d been staying there. But there was no denying the strength in his body, the stance emphasizing his shoulders, back, and biceps.

It didn’t take long for him to home in on that perfect, plump ass he’d been doing his best not to stare at for the last month. He stepped forward and cupped one cheek, giving it a squeeze and then a quick slap, watching his creamy white skin ripple.

Mason gasped, muscles in his legs and ass tensing before releasing as he let out his breath with a small shudder.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Tomas said softly, wanting to make sure Mason understood he didn’t take his submission for granted.

No matter how much he wanted him, and Vinnie too, he would still cherish every moment they had together. The fact he was able to find two boys practically under his nose who fit together so perfectly and slotted into his own desires and wants nearly had him falling to his knees in thanks.

Instead, he picked up the flogger, shook it out, and watched goose bumps rise on the back of Mason’s arms. “What color?”

“Green,” Mason said immediately. “So very, very green.”

Grinning, Tomas flicked the strands of leather at the plump skin of his ass.

And then a little harder.

And then harder still, moving back and forth from one side to the other, down onto his thighs and then across his shoulders.

He let himself fall into a rhythm, watching as Mason squirmed, nearly dancing in place at times, as he sighed and moaned in the quiet room. Tomas worked him slowly and methodically, paying careful attention to every finger twitch and sound, twice stopping to step around Mason and study his face and both times finding him blissed-out.

As a reward, Tomas jerked his cock a couple of times before moving back behind him and resuming the flogging.

“Your skin’s getting so pink. It’s beautiful. It looks perfect on you,” he praised, voice gruff with his own arousal.

He struck the same spot a few times to hear Mason cry out. “Oh god!”

“You’re doing such a good job, taking this so well. I’m proud of you, cielito.”

Mason made a soft, helpless sound and dropped his head back.

Tomas took it as his signal, tossing the flogger aside and stepping up close, pressing his clothed body against Mason’s naked skin, knowing the roughness of his jeans would feel deliciously painful against all his sensitive spots.

Moaning, Mason pressed back against him, tipping his head back onto Tomas’s shoulder. His face was slack, eyes closed and cheeks flushed.

Tomas couldn’t stop himself from running his hands over every inch he could reach, nuzzling into his neck. He flicked the piercing in Mason’s belly button and deliberately avoided his straining cock until Mason was squirming against him, pleading softly.

“Please, Daddy. I need it. Need you. Need more. Please, god.”

Desire clenched his guts, his cock jerking against Mason, who moaned at the feeling. “On the bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into the side of Mason’s neck.

He pressed his lips together to hold back a chuckle as Mason practically threw himself onto the large bed, scrambling on hands and knees until he was right in the middle and then flopping onto his back. He groaned and moved his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel on the comforter, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“Feel good?” Tomas asked as he stripped his shirt off and then unbuckled his belt.

“So good,” Mason said breathily, tipping his head up to peer down his body and watch as Tomas toed off his boots and socks and then let his jeans and underwear drop to the ground. He didn’t bother folding his clothes like his perfect boy had, too intent on getting as close to him as possible.

Mason’s eyes widened as Tomas situated himself over his body, his attention completely focused on Tomas’s dick. “I wasn’t expecting the piercings.”

He sat back on his heels and grinned as he stroked himself a few times. He had a Jacob’s ladder on the top side, four looped piercings stacked down the middle, starting about half an inch under his cockhead.

“You’ll have to tell me if you like it.”

Mason licked his lips. “Oh, I’m going to like it.”

He had a feeling that was true, and he couldn’t wait to find out. He reached over Mason to pull open his bedside table and grab a bottle of lube. It took him mere moments to slick up his shaft and fingers.

“Spread your legs for me, cielito,” he said lowly, eyes on Mason’s ass.

Planting his feet on the bed, Mason spread his thighs, fingers dancing over his chest and stomach, touching himself in an easy and familiar way.

Tomas pulled one of his cheeks aside, humming appreciatively. “You’re so smooth everywhere.”

“Waxing nights with Ollie and the others,” Mason said, voice distracted and hips shifting restlessly.

“Oh, that’s right,” Tomas murmured. “I’ve heard about the infamous waxing nights. I can’t say I hate the results.”

He rubbed a small circle around Mason’s furled hole, watching him squirm and bite his lip. Leaning forward, he used his tongue to flick the ring in Mason’s belly button, then laid soft, lingering kisses up his stomach to his chest. As he sucked one of his pert little nipples into his mouth, he pushed his finger inside an inch.

“Fuck, cielito, you’re so hot and tight in your little hole. I just know you’re going to feel like absolute heaven wrapped around my cock.”

“Daddy,” Mason moaned, fingers clutching at his shoulders as Tomas used his teeth to add a little zip to the nipple play and eased his finger the rest of the way inside him. “More, please?”

“More what? More kisses to your pretty nipples? More fingers inside your sexy little hole? Or more sweet words letting you know how perfect you are?”

“Oh god.” Mason arched against him, holding Tomas’s face against his chest and rubbing his weeping cock on his belly. “All of it, Daddy. Feels so good.”

“I love when you beg,” Tomas growled, switching to his other pec and licking around his pebbled nub. “It’s so sexy.”

He fucked his finger into Mason’s willing body, grunting when Mase squeezed down on him. Taking the hint, he worked a second finger inside him and moved up to kiss Mason’s collarbones and neck. His panting breaths rang out in the silent room, the only other sound the wet squelch from the lube as Tomas shoved his fingers inside him over and over.

Unable to resist, he found a spot on Mason’s throat that made him gasp and sucked a dark bruise into his pale skin. Mason’s nails dug into his shoulders, and his thighs encircled his waist, practically hanging off Tomas’s body.

“God, yes. Leave marks on me so everyone knows.”

“What will they know, changuito?”

“That I belong to someone,” Mason said hoarsely.

“That’s right.” Tomas pulled his fingers free and lined up his cock. He held Mason’s bright eyes as he forced his flared head past his twitching hole and straight into heavenly heat. They both moaned, Mason’s eyes fluttering, his wet lips parted wantonly. “You belong to me. You and Vinnie. You’re mine. My perfect boys. My filthy possessions.”

Mason sucked in a breath, his whole body shuddering as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it again.”

“You’re mine, changuito. I own you and this perfect hole, and I get to have it whenever I want.”

Driving his hips forward, he sank all the way into his body, not stopping until he was flush against the warm skin of Mason’s ass. His little monkey clung to him, crying out.

“I was right. Dear god, please fuck me. Those piercings…”

He grabbed Mason’s legs, propping them into the crooks of his elbows and tipping his ass up for an even better angle, and then pushed into him again. Mason choked on his next breath, fingers tangling in Tomas’s hair and tugging painfully.

“Daddy! Right there, right there, right there.”

Feeling feral, he pulled out almost all the way and then shoved forward once more, driving them up the bed. Mason kept a tight hold on his hair and his cock, making the sexiest fucking grunts every time Tomas slammed home.

His headboard smacking into the wall became the steady beat of the soundtrack as they lost themselves in each other. Tomas tasted as much of his skin as he could reach, watching the pleasure build to what looked like a painful level in Mason’s face.

His own need to come was riding him hard, speeding up his strokes until his whole rhythm was lost. He jackhammered into Mason’s hole, chasing that release and pushing his boy right to the edge as well with his piercings rubbing against his prostate.

Mason made a soft keening sound that grew in volume with each slam of Tomas’s hips until his head jerked back, whole body bearing down on Tomas’s dick, and he grunted. Come shot from Mason’s untouched cock between them, smearing on their stomachs.

“That was fucking gorgeous,” Tomas snarled, shifting so he was sitting upright, one of Mason’s thighs over his shoulder and lifting his ass off the mattress. “You’re taking my cock so well, changuito. So perfect. I’m going to live in this tight hole.”

Mason moaned, body turning lax in his hold as he came down from his orgasm.

“I’m going to use it right now, make myself come, and leave it deep inside you,” Tomas said, speeding up once more. “That’s what you want, right? To make Daddy feel good?”

“Yes, god yes,” Mason croaked. “Use me.”

He did. He fucked his boy to within an inch of both of their lives and then drove himself as deep as he could get when he started to shoot, coating his insides and leaving his mark there too.

Muscles twitching and breaths heavy, he stayed kneeling for a long few moments, letting the delicious feeling of released tension sink all the way down into his bones. When his cock started to soften, he pulled out and let himself flop onto the bed next to Mason, tugging him into his arms.

That was all the encouragement he needed, splaying himself half over Tomas’s body and holding on tight as they just breathed and relaxed in the quiet intimacy between them.

Mason clutched at him even after his breathing leveled out. Tomas swept his hand from the back of his neck all the way down his spine to cup his ass and then back up. He was getting drowsy, wondering if he should make sure Mason knew he was staying the night, when Mason made a soft, questioning noise.

“Okay?” Tomas asked, his parched throat turning it into little more than a croak.

“Do you… Would you maybe want to record a video for my channel sometime?”

He asked it so softly, almost tentative, like he honestly thought Tomas would say no. “Sure. Have anything particular in mind?”

“Not yet, but those piercings of yours will be the stars no matter what.”

He snorted and gave his cheek another squeeze. “Glad you’re a fan.”

“You could say that, yes.” Mason somehow scooted closer, pressing his face more fully into his neck. “I had another idea.”

“Hit me, changuito.”

His wet tongue slid up his throat. “What does that mean?”

“Little monkey.” He grinned into the darkness, wondering how Mason would take it. Considering how tightly he’d been wrapped around Tomas for the last half an hour, it fit his boy perfectly.

Mason snorted and nuzzled into him. “You think you’re so cute.”

“No, you’re cute. My adorable changuito.” After Mason nipped at his neck, he pinched the tender underside of one of his cheeks. “What was your idea?”

Huffing, Mason resettled. “You need help.”

“You want to be my therapist?”

“You’re ridiculous.” Mason kissed his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “I meant with all the work on your plate. I could… help you.”

The offer hung in the air around them, and Tomas swallowed, emotions welling up inside him. “You want to be my assistant?”

“You need help,” he said again, softer.

“I do,” he agreed, running the idea through his mind. “I can’t pay much.”

“I don’t need to get paid.” Mason chuckled. “I make plenty with my channel, but this way, we can spend, you know, more time together.”

“I’d like that,” he said, meaning it. He’d also have to make sure he spent plenty of one-on-one time with Vinnie once he started back at the hospital. “Are you sure?”

Mason nodded, bumping Tomas’s chin. “I’m sure. And if I’m in your office with you, that gives you plenty of opportunities to take me whenever you want.”

He practically purred at the notion. “That’s true.”

“You’ll think about it?”

Pressing a kiss to his wild hair, he said quietly, “I don’t need to think about it. I’ll take any opportunity to spend time with you.”

CHAPTER 12

As they drove into Grand Rapids, Vinnie finally brought up the elephant in the room or, well, truck.

“Where the hel