HIDE WITH ME

THE GAME SERIES

BOOK 13

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CARA DEE

OceanofPDF.com
 Hide With Me

Copyright © 2023 by Cara Dee

All rights reserved

This book along with its cover are licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be reproduced
in any way without documented permission from the author, not including brief quotes with links
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This is a work of fiction and all references to historical events, persons living or dead, and locations
are used in a fictional manner. Any other names, characters, incidents, and places are derived from
the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademark status and owners of any
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction. Characters portrayed in sexual situations are 18 or
older.

Edited by Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC.

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 CONTENTS

The Series
Prologue 1
Prologue 2
Prologue 3

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15

Epilogue 1
Epilogue 2
Epilogue 3
Next up in the Game Series
More from Cara
About Cara

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 THE SERIES

The Game Series is a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink.
Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla
business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to
compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No
matter what, one thing is certain. This is not a perfect world—and maybe
that’s why the happily ever after feels so good.

The characters of the Game Series cross over in most titles once they’re
introduced, and if you’re looking to read specific titles rather than the
whole series, it’s recommended to look at each description where you’ll see
if the book a standalone novel or not.

You’ll find everything you need to know about the Game Series here.
You’re more than welcome to join our Mclean House group on Facebook
too, for outtakes, character profiles, teasers, and much more.

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 PROLOGUE 1

Santiago Jones
A few months ago

“Look at you, joining the private sector. I like the scruff, Detective.”
I chuckled and slapped my hand to Reese’s. “Thanks. No need to call
me detective anymore, though. How are you?”
“All things considering…?” He blew out a breath and smirked wryly.
“Eh, life’s great and all that.”
I knew he meant it, but yeah, the fire. That had to be one hell of a
headache.
He sat down on the stool next to mine and shrugged out of his leather
jacket, and I flagged down the bartender to order Reese the same beer I was
drinking.
“Any word from the fire marshal yet?” I asked.
When I’d heard they’d had a fire out in Mclean, in their kink
community’s slice of heaven, I’d thought it was much worse. That was how
rumors worked. All the kink crowds in DC had talked about it online, and
then a friend told a friend who told a friend who told me.
Since then, I’d double-checked with the friends I had who were actually
part of the Mclean community, and while the damage was extensive, the
whole house hadn’t burned down—and no, nobody had died.
“Nah, it’ll be a while longer,” Reese replied. “Not as long as it evidently
takes to see you at an event with us, but you know.”
Ha! Now he could cross that jab off the list.
 “I’ve been busy with work,” was my lame defense. “If it makes you feel
any better, I haven’t cheated on you with my old community.”
He gave me a look, then paid for his beer. “You better not.”
No chance. I was done. Truth be told, I’d been thinking about joining
Mclean House for a while. They had that big estate of theirs, and I was sick
of pop-up events at nightclubs in the city.
“So…at the risk of adding more work to your plate,” he said once we
were alone again.
I was listening.
He took a swig of his beer. “It’s been brought to my attention that one of
our members might be in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“That’s what I don’t know,” he said. “Two subbie boys were discussing
the fire—how it was started—and one of them joked that maybe we should
investigate if we had any enemies.”
I let out a laugh.
“Yeah, that was my reaction too,” he chuckled. “But the other boy got
weird about it. Fidgety and anxious, I was told.”
Ah. I nodded slowly, assuming what came next. “You want me to make
a few calls?”
“If it’s not too much hassle,” he said. “River would’ve done it if we
weren’t swamped with the rebuild and all the lovely chats with the
insurance company.”
Yeah, I could imagine.
“No worries.” The worst had settled for me anyway. I had a handful of
cases that turned me into the nine-to-five worker I’d wanted to be after so
many years on the force. I’d finally gotten my coffee addiction under
control, and I was down to two smokes a day. “What’s his name?”
“Gael Grimes,” Reese answered. “I’d like for his privacy to be
respected as much as possible, so maybe a direct hit into a possible criminal
record rather than digging around his social media.”
Interesting definition of privacy, but I knew what he meant. Strike
where I might find answers quickly.
“I can’t imagine him having a criminal record, though,” he added,
frowning to himself. “Kid’s afraid of his own shadow—and as far as I
know, he’s only befriended Colt and Luke’s boy.”
 I pulled out my phone and jotted down Gael Grimes. “How old is he?
Gael.”
“Twenty-three,” he said. “He turns twenty-four on March 11. Oh, and he
moved to DC from Berkeley last summer.”
That was interesting. You didn’t move across the entire country for no
reason. “It’s not the most common name, so I have enough to go on. I’ll see
if he has family in the area. If not, maybe he’s running from someone.”
“That was my thought too. Fingers crossed that ain’t the case.”
I pocketed my phone again. “But you don’t suspect any foul play with
the fire?”
“Fuck no—I can guarantee it was faulty electrics,” he said. “An old
house like ours…?” He shook his head. “Besides, we know who comes and
goes out there. I’m not sayin’ it’s impossible for someone to sneak by, but
—” He stopped with another shake of his head.
Fair enough.

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 PROLOGUE 2

Gael Grimes
Shortly before Christmas

No, no, no, @HeadOfTheHouse was correct. I removed the straw from my
mouth and sat up straighter on the couch, then typed a response on my
laptop.
In addition to what @HeadOfTheHouse said, we also repositioned a
satellite and spied on Argentina and sent the intel directly to the British
fleet. If that’s not help, what is?
After submitting the comment to the discussion, I clicked on
@HeadOfTheHouse’s profile and nodded as my guess was correct. It was
Greer Finlay. He’d started interacting more in the Kinky History Lovers
group lately.
It was my favorite group. The one place I didn’t feel awkward and out
of sorts. Maybe because history made me confident. I couldn’t stop reading
about it, and most recently, I was completely obsessed with the Falklands
War. I’d devoured at least ten books on the topic since last summer when
I’d seen a documentary about the war.
In fact, my studio apartment had precisely four walls, not counting a
tiny bathroom and kitchenette, and two walls were dedicated to history.
Floor to ceiling with history books. Okay, the ceilings were slanted, so the
walls weren’t massive, but whatever—I had hundreds and hundreds of
books, and I’d read most of them. This dude who’d been arguing with Greer
about the US remaining impartial in the Falklands War was so wrong. It
was as if he hadn’t read a paper since the war had ended.
 While I waited for the next response in the group, I got up from the
couch and decided I’d stalled long enough. I had to clear some dishes from
my coffee table. Grandma had sent me home with leftovers yesterday, and
I’d spent all day today in my pajamas, eating too much.
In my defense, it was snowing outside, and I had zero desire to join the
Christmas shopping herds on the sleet-covered ground of Georgetown. I’d
trip in a second! It was the curse of Georgetown, ’cause it was so pretty, but
the roads and sidewalks were uneven and ancient.
I carried as many plates and glasses as I could to the kitchen and
dumped it all in the sink. Then I glanced out the narrow window, and yeah,
snow was still falling heavily. The little side street I called home was all
cobblestones—a deathtrap to me.
If I had my way, I’d stay up here till spring.
Unfortunately, I had work tomorrow. Right downstairs. Horrible
commute. Work on the first floor, live on the second.
After grabbing another soda and making sure General had water in his
bowl, I went back to the couch and plopped down. The movie I’d put on ran
in the background, and I hadn’t watched a minute of it.
Crap, I should change the sheets too… I’d spilled gravy on them earlier.
I heard Dad in my head, fussing, telling me to make room for a bed, but
then I would have to clear a bookcase or two. No way, José. My couch was
huge and plenty comfy.
I positioned the laptop in my lap again and noticed I had a new message
from someone. Probably a Dom who wanted to play and then ghosted me
after five minutes. As usual.
I clicked on the message and cocked my head. From @BoyMcKenna?
That was Macklin. Oh my gosh. He’d been the first one I’d crushed on
when I’d joined the Mclean kink community in September. I’d just seen
him a few days ago when he’d hosted a casual drink meetup at his
restaurant. It’d been my promise to myself, to show up at a minimum of one
event this December.
Sigh.
In the end, I’d stood in the background and people watched. The sexiest
man I’d ever seen had arrived, Kit had stopped by briefly with his Daddies,
Mistress Penelope had been there too, and Macklin… Macklin had
approached me with a sly smirk, making me all nervous, and it turned out
he’d caught me gawking at the older man.
 “His name is Dean. Are you interested? I can introduce you if you
want.”
“Um, n-no, thanks, I’m good.”
Oh shit. Had I forgotten to pay my bill? Was that why he was messaging
me? No, I was certain. I’d paid it. I was an occasional klutz, but I was not
forgetful.
I opened the message and braced myself.
Hi, Gael. This is Macklin in case you don’t recognize my handle.
I couldn’t help but notice your activity in the history group. It says in
your profile that you’re a student, so I was just wondering if you’re
studying history.
“Huh.” I tilted my head, confused. He wasn’t making small talk, was
he? Or…?
I replied quickly, ’cause I wasn’t going to figure out why he’d messaged
by just guessing.
Hi, Macklin! I’m a part-time student. (It’s mostly for fun.) I just
finished one class, and I have another starting in January, Russian
Military History. Why, if you don’t mind my asking?
I pinched my lip and sent it off, hoping the exclamation mark didn’t
make me sound too excited.
General jumped up on the couch in a flash of gray and obviously
wanted to sit on the laptop, so I had to scoot his boot to the side.
I stroked the soft fur over his head, past the tufts of longer hair, down
his fuzzy tail, and he stretched out before he turned away from me and
curled up at the other end of the couch. He usually slept up on the backrest
closest to where I had my pillows. Or up on one of the shelves, where he
could watch over his territory.
He’d done the same thing in my old room at Mom and Dad’s. Ever
since I was little, really. When I turned twenty-four next spring, my steady
companion would turn fifteen.
I was thinking about giving him a baby brother.
Macklin finally responded a minute or so later, and I had to read the
message twice.
Well, I was thinking about the stars you had in your eyes for a certain
Dom at my wine mixer… You know, Dean? He’s a professor at GW, and I
just happened to find out that they moved his Naval Warfare class to a
bigger hall, so they’re accepting more applicants.
 To be honest, I thought about it because you were discussing the
Falklands War, and he always starts his class with that war.
Dean…
Falklands War. Naval Warfare. GW.
It couldn’t be.
I hurriedly set the laptop aside and rushed off the couch. Oh my God, it
couldn’t be. I skidded across the floor and searched the letter A in my
bookcase for military history. Dean Aavik, Dean Aavik, Dean—there! I
grabbed the first book and opened it from the back, and I nearly swallowed
my tongue. Holy fucking crap! It was him! How had I not recognized him?
Granted, he’d worn a devilish smile at the mixer, and in this black-and-
white photo, he looked…more professor-like. But still. Sweet Santa Claus,
Professor Dean Aavik was in my kink community!
…so they’re accepting more applicants.
Gulp.
Could I?

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 PROLOGUE 3

Dean Aavik
Early February

Goddamn you, Macklin.

Ever since he’d confessed he’d encouraged a boy in our community to
sign up for my class, I saw young Mr. Grimes everywhere. Like right now,
when he hurried across campus.
I’d recognized him almost from the beginning, and then to have it
confirmed by a sheepish Macklin…?
Fucking troublemakers.
Gael was much, much too young for me, of course.
Perhaps not for casual play, but…I was awfully tired of casual.
Not that it mattered. I didn’t interact inappropriately with students.
Never had, never would.
Besides, the boy was clearly interested in history, so he was in the right
place. I wouldn’t want him to skip my class because we happened to have
something in common far away from the university.
I made my way to the lecture hall after a quick detour to my office, and
as had become usual, Gael sat in the back row. Which made me wonder if
he was trying to avoid me. Because the way I saw it, he had two options. He
could take my class and think along the lines of, “Hey, I know we’re part of
the same kink community, but I really want to take this class, so here I am.”
Or…he was less open. Perhaps he thought I didn’t keep track of my
students and he would simply blend in with the crowd.
 He was wrong. One of the reasons I only taught two classes every
semester was because I did give a damn. I wanted my students to succeed,
and that required commitment and investing time in them. Gael, for
instance, had taken four history classes at GW since last summer, and I was
particularly interested in why he’d decided to study Russian warfare.
Furthermore, with that level of interest in history, why did he never speak?
Why did he never raise his hand?
“Good morning, everyone.” I went to my desk at the center and placed
my briefcase on top. “While I get ready here, you can open up to page
seventy-four in your books. We’re going to talk about NATO’s role in the
Falklands War—or the lack of it, rather.”

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 CHAPTER 1

Gael Grimes

I blewTask
out a breath and eyed the notepad in the passenger’s seat.
of the day. Talk to a Dom. A minimum of ten words.
Ugh.
I climbed out of my car and made sure I didn’t scratch Reese Tenley’s
very nice Impala. He probably wouldn’t like that.
It’d been parked in the carport all winter with a tarp covering the whole
thing, but it’d be just my luck if I managed to scratch it somehow.
Zipping up my coat, I walked out of the carport, sort of relieved it
seemed to be a slow night at House Mclean. At least judging by the number
of cars parked. On a Friday or Saturday, the lawn surrounding the carport
was packed. Now I only counted five vehicles. That was good news and
bad. It was easier to get lost in a crowd—but that was also where I
chickened out and kept to myself. I had to get out there. I had to escape this
loneliness I’d buried myself in.
It was time to make more friends—and it was totally up to me, because
others had tried.
I was just so damn awkward and intimidated by people when they were
so obviously protective of their kink family. And I was like, what if I
fucked it up? What if I messed with their chemistry and caused rifts?
I sucked in a breath of frigid air and walked toward the grand estate up
ahead. It loomed threateningly atop a minor hill—three stories, no
neighbors nearby. It might as well be a haunted house, complete with the
old Victorian look. And it was painted black too.
 Mclean House or House Mclean. It depended on who you asked.
There was a debate going on in the internet forum. Officially, it was
Mclean House, but many of the younger members, primarily brats and subs,
insisted House Mclean sounded cooler.
Frost-covered grass crunched softly underneath my shoes as I crossed
the large front lawn.
Even on a slow Wednesday night, I heard music pumping from the
nightclub on the first floor. The lights were on in several playrooms on the
remaining floors too, so…crap, maybe people had carpooled.
My stomach tightened, and I passed the pillory just off the porch steps.
I’d clearly been born to have more boring dreams. For how chickenshit
I’d become the past few years, I should work in a basement somewhere,
never see the light of day, eat the same thing every day, and have zero
hobbies. That was the kind of lifestyle that fit my personality.
I had no business joining a kink community and fantasizing about group
play and Daddies and Masters and…whatever.
I sucked. I was such a freaking coward.
Task of the day—
Oh, shut up.
I was going to speak to a Dom. Platonically, of course. I’d already
decided who my target was. Reese Tenley. He’d posted online that he was
keeping office hours tonight, so yeah. Plus, he had to be nice to me. He was
one of the eight founding members of House Mclean, and they were all
polite. Except maybe River, Reese’s twin brother. He never said much.
Kit kept insisting that River was just a teddy bear in wolves’ clothing,
but seeing was believing.
Sometimes, not even that. I’d once thought Caleb was nice. Perfect,
amazing, wonderful…
Here we go.
I opened the door and stepped inside, and I was immediately met by
heavy, industrial metal blaring from the speakers.
I glimpsed a handful of kinksters in the club area; it looked like they’d
set up some bondage furniture where people usually danced on weekends.
Despite the house’s dark colors and ominous feel, it was so clear that
the people here were close. Even out here in the lobby, where the walls
were plastered with photos of kinky fun times. Moments frozen in time,
mid-laughter, mid-scream, brats dancing, Sadists scheming, Tops chugging
beer together, masochists scowling. They were family.
Having mainly experienced the online community, I’d stumbled across
several cliques too, from the bondage crowd and the Little community to
the founding members and their closest friends to the watersports lovers.
The online forum had plenty of groups with specific topics, but even there
—I mean, they crossed over. Nothing was set in stone. People seemed to get
along very well, and conflicts were handled swiftly by involving a founding
member or a web admin.
As I hung up my jacket, I saw a few guys in the club area I’d spoken to
a little bit. Corey was here with his Daddy Dom, Sloan. Corey was great
fun. I hoped I could get to know him better. He’d been very nice to me; I
was the one who kept shying away.
Tate was here with his Master too, Kingsley. Tate had even invited me
over for dinner with a few other subs, and I’d stupidly canceled last minute.
I avoided the club for now, not ready yet. Instead, I trailed along the
front of the house, past the stairs, past the dressing room, past the kitchen…
Eventually, I reached Reese’s office, and I hesitated.
I did have a question, but it was one I could ask anyone. I had no real
reason to single out a Founder for my awkwardness.
He was safe, though. Intimidating but safe.
I’d contemplated asking Lucas West, one of Kit’s Daddy Doms—my
friend was lucky to have two—and both were Founders. Lucas was much
nicer than Colt. Another thing Kit kept saying wasn’t true. Colt was just a
hell-raising Sadist, and that was why some were afraid to approach him.
I wasn’t sure. I’d observed Colt online. He got very loud in the group
where they discussed a certain flight simulator game. Also, I’d been to their
house once, to hang out with Kit, and when Colt had come home from
work, he’d cursed out a client, obviously in a bad mood, and his vocabulary
was colorful.
Either way, asking Lucas wouldn’t be much of a challenge. And I had to
challenge myself.
With another deep breath, I righted my shirt and knocked on Reese’s
door.
“Yeah?” he said on the other side.
Fuck. All of a sudden, I was so nervous that I bordered on frazzled, and
that was when I started stammering. Goddammit! Shit! Fuck! I opened the
door and swallowed hard, and Reese looked toward me.
His surprise was clear. “Well, hey. How you doin’, Gael?”
They are nice. You have no reason to act like a moron who can’t form a
coherent sentence.
Reese Tenley had a reputation, that was all. I’d seen him and River go at
it, with their boy, Shay, as their punching bag. But I’d also seen them do
aftercare. Reese, for as sadistic as he was during play, could laugh the
loudest and cuddle the hardest.
“Um, hi.” I cleared my throat. “Is this a bad time?”
He shook his head and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Not
at all. Have a seat.”
Oh. Right. Okay. I closed the door behind me and walked over to one of
the chairs, and I sat down.
“What can I do for you, kid?”
Where did I begin?
Part of me wanted to apologize for having been so difficult. Most
recently, I’d been invited to join their Christmas party, and I’d taken the
easy way out like I always did. I’d lied and said I wasn’t feeling well.
“I’m trying to overcome some…issues, I guess you can say, and I
wanna be a more active member,” I admitted, fumbling over my words.
“My plan is to start online, and I’ve been approached by a few Tops, but—
something is wrong with my profile. I’m not who they, um, expect or
whatever.”
Reese furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I follow. If there’s a technical
error, I’d shoot August a message—his handle is Decoder.”
“Oh, um—no, it’s not that.” God, why could I not speak like a normal
adult? “I think my profile is missing some information, because when Tops
DM me, it becomes clear that I’m not what they’re looking for, so I’m
essentially wondering if you have some advice on what to write.”
He leaned back in his chair, turning pensive. “I see. And what’re they
lookin’ for?”
I shrugged, hating the topic so much. “A sub who doesn’t need to lose
twenty to thirty pounds, I guess.”
“Uh-huh.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and I worried I’d ticked
him off. He looked a little irritated. “You wanna know what sucks about
running a community? You can’t be a dictator if you wanna last.”
I tilted my head, confused, ’cause now he was smirking a bit.
 He leaned forward again, and he rested his forearms on the desk and
crackled his knuckles absently. “Let’s circle back to you starting online. I’m
not sure that’s the right move for you, Gael. Because we have, what, four
hundred-ish members in our online community?”
I nodded hesitantly.
“And not even half of those come out here for events,” he went on. “I
get how the online world appeals to introverts and whoever’s more
comfortable talkin’ behind a screen—but that’s also where you get the
fuckwits.” He raised a hand slightly. “I’m not sayin’ preferences are wrong.
We’re all entitled to those. But people lose their manners on the internet.
And if you feel like Tops have been rude or behaved like douchebags, I
hope you will change the scenery instead. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I
can do about online behavior unless they break our policies.”
I understood what he meant. They hadn’t been…douchebags, just
maybe…dismissive and quick to cease all communications once they
discovered I wasn’t walking around with a six-pack.
“I wouldn’t want you to do anything about them.” I felt the need to
clarify. “I’m more thinking, maybe I should add my body type in my
profile. But when I talked to Kit about it, he didn’t agree.”
Reese inclined his head. “That’s up to you, of course, but I wouldn’t add
anything based on how others act. That’s how we end up with mile-long
lists—we think we can weed out the bullshit with three dozen warnings and
disclaimers.”
He had a point. I’d seen lots of that too. Walls of text starting with
“Before you DM me, read this!”
“What else did Kit say?” he asked curiously.
“He asked me if the body-type thing was part of a fetish,” I replied.
“Like, if I’m drawn to bigger men or if I want my body type to be part of
the kink dynamic, then it would be good to add it. Otherwise, he was like,
you don’t wanna be just your body type.”
Reese nodded. “I agree with him. I understand what you’re trying to do
—and I bet it stings to be rejected because of something so dumb. Because
of that, I can’t tell you what to do. It’s perfectly natural to wanna shield
yourself from those comments, but I really hope you try to connect with
members out here instead. Come to events—or the monthly munch. Tops
who approach you there already see you. If they want something else—” He
shrugged. “They’ll go elsewhere.”
 I hated that he was right.
“Online is so comfortable,” I said and made a face.
He chuckled. “Only because you haven’t made the leap yet. Once you
have your own gaggle of brat buddies, you’ll use the online forum for what
it was intended. To keep in touch with your friends until you see one
another at the next event.”
That was the dream.
“You’re a Little, right?” he asked.
I half shrugged. “Maybe closer to Middle.”
He nodded. “So’s my Shay. He and Ivy host occasional meetups for
Littles and Middles in the city. I suggest you reach out to one of them and
ask when the next one is. And in the meantime…” He dug out an iPad from
under a stack of documents. “Lemme play the Dom card real quick and
request you add your name to the next regular munch and maybe the
Game.”
Oh my God, the next Game?
I swallowed anxiously as the iPad flashed to life, and Reese clicked his
way to the attendance list of said event. The munch, maybe. But the Game?
They hosted one of those themed events every month, and obviously, I’d
always wanted to join, but you needed a partner for that.
“You don’t have to participate, Gael,” he said pointedly. And patiently.
He was being patient with me. “If it’s too much, there are options. You can
be a volunteer for the event, you can team up with someone nonsexually—
hell, you can go with me. You can be my sidekick and hold my paddle.”
I let out a nervous laugh and shook my head. I’d read about the next
event. They’d dubbed it Mclean House Academy, and it was going to have
a teacher/student theme. If Reese was going to be one of those teachers, I
did not want to hold the weapon he’d use on Shay or other poor brats.
They’d never like me!
“I actually want Shay to like me, Sir,” I said as respectfully as I could.
“I don’t think helping you hurt him will do me any favors.”
He rumbled a low laugh. “Ever heard of a masochist?”
Right, doh, but still.
Oh, screw it. I added my name to the list. “Sign me up as a volunteer,
please.” It was actually a great option because I’d have something to do. I
wouldn’t just stand there in a corner and look like an idiot.
 “Fair enough. And the munch…” He flipped to the next attendance list,
and I dutifully added my name there too.
The munch was this Sunday, whereas the Game was the last weekend of
February, so I had time to mentally prepare for the latter.
“Make sure to fill in the brunch preorder on the forum,” he said. “Ivy
usually posts it two days before each munch.”
I nodded, remembering that part. I’d attended two munches last year,
when I’d first become a member. The munch was hosted at Macklin’s
restaurant.
“Coming in here tonight did not go as planned,” I confessed.
Reese smirked. “That’s always my goal.”
Hmpf.
Well, I’d certainly spoken more than ten words with a Dom tonight.
Now I could go home and prepare for class tomorrow morning.

In the nick of time!

I ducked into the lecture hall and made my way up the stairs toward the
back, and Professor Aavik entered mere seconds later. His class was
incredibly popular, so I wasn’t worried he’d see me—despite I had concerns
rattling in the back of my head.
That was simply me. Always worried about something.
I hadn’t always been this way…
Macklin had assured me I would be okay. So I happened to be part of
the same kink community as my professor—so what? We didn’t exactly run
in the same circles, on account of my having close to no friends. I’d seen
him once in person, and I’d almost tripped over my own shadow.
I exhaled and flipped open my laptop as well as my notebook.
Eighty students filled most of the seats, except for the back rows where
it was less crowded. From here, I could gawk in peace and soak up every
word that came from Aavik’s mouth. Because talk about being qualified for
the job. Aside from his past in the Navy, he’d written six books, appeared in
several documentaries, and he’d taught at some of the best universities in
the country.
“Good morning, everyone.” And he had the sexiest voice.
 I deserved a medal for having never looked up his profile in the forum
online. I’d felt that would be inappropriate, like I was invading his personal
space. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious. I only knew he was a Dom.
And he was in some way close with Macklin’s husband.
Professor Aavik did his thing; he had a routine at the beginning of each
class, starting with placing his books and printouts on the desk in front of
him, then bringing out a bottle of water and a banana from his briefcase,
followed by hooking up his laptop to the two large screens that flanked the
center podium.
He had a PowerPoint presentation for every class.
The first display read “NATO – Article 6.”
Last but not least, he brought out an old-fashioned pocket watch that he
set on the table.
“Last time, I talked about the technicalities that prevented a NATO
intervention in the Falklands War,” Professor Aavik began. “Today we’re
going to discuss the show Reagan and Thatcher put on for the world—and
what went on behind closed doors. Because as we know today, we weren’t
as impartial as we vowed to be. Then we’ll have a short five-minute break
before this week’s test.”
Fuck yes, this was exciting. I’d read so much about the Falklands War,
and whenever Professor Aavik asked a question that I knew the answer to, I
really wanted to raise my hand. And I hated speaking in front of others.
“We’ll start off easy with the CIA.” Professor Aavik smirked, and I
grinned to myself. Nothing was easy about the CIA. He was too funny. And
sexy. Seriously so sexy. The ultimate professor type, with salt-and-pepper
hair, a stocky but firm body, nice clothes, and he was very tall.
Then again, everyone was tall next to my measly 5’4”.
I had not been blessed in the genetic lottery.
I bit my lip, and I screwed my eyes shut for a second. I used to think I
was cute. Being chubby and short hadn’t really bothered me until I’d met
Caleb. Now I was putting his words in my thoughts, and I fucking hated it.
Bad enough he’d stalked me for three years and violated his restraining
order repeatedly. If I kept parroting his abuse, I’d never get rid of him.
After class, I made sure to sneak out with most of the others. No lingering
like some students did.
Once or twice, I’d caught Professor Aavik glancing my way, so it was
important I kept my face down. I’d rather lie low here than out in Mclean.
I walked briskly back up to Georgetown, resisting the urge to call an
Uber and hating that there was no Metro here. When it rained and was cold,
DC was simply not my buddy. Not in this area, anyway.
Next week, I might take the car, even though it was reserved for work. I
only used it privately when I had to go out to Mclean.
By the time I trudged up the little cobblestone hill I called home, I was
freezing and contemplating asking Kaley to fill in for me at work. She
always wanted extra shifts. But then Dad would see the schedule change in
the computer system, and he’d worry I wasn’t doing all right. So…instead
of heading upstairs to my place, I went into Waffled and welcomed the
warmth and the scents of vanilla, waffle batter, and bacon. Those three
dominated. Especially right now when the lunch crowd was on its way.
I greeted Des and Makayla behind the counter and left my messenger
bag in the back. Then I changed into a Waffled tee and logged in to my
work account on the computer. All Waffled places around the country—
okay, it was primarily a West Coast franchise—were on the same network,
and I noticed Dad was online. Just in time for him to open in Berkeley.
A message from him popped up in its own window.
Good morning, son! How was class today?
I grinned faintly and replied.
All good. We talked about Reagan/Thatcher (Falklands.) Now I’m
gonna do boring inventory. :P
Waffled was set up much like Subway, in the way that customers picked
their toppings from behind a counter. You could choose between sweet and
savory, and each one offered approximately fifteen toppings, plus a monthly
special. For February, we were doing wild berries with whipped cream and
heart-shaped white-chocolate chips on the sweet waffle, and buffalo
chicken and pickles on the savory. But bacon and eggs were always the
popular choice for a lunch waffle.
I could see Dad typing his response when Makayla hollered for me, so I
left the back room to see what she wanted.
Unlike Subway, our interior screamed the South. Mismatched furniture,
rustic colors, and Southern sayings and quotes on the walls. The franchise
was my dad’s baby—and a tribute to his upbringing in Tennessee.
The only thing I would’ve changed was maybe renting bigger property,
because it was always packed, and only six parties could sit down in tiny
booths along the wall. But Dad wanted to keep each location small and
intimate, which, of course, had its charm—if you got a table.
“What’s up?” I asked Makayla.
She gestured at someone near the door. “The man over there asked for
you.”
Oh? I didn’t recognize him. But hot damn, he was incredibly attractive.
A bad-boy-looking man, with a leather jacket, jeans, and boots. Plus scruff.
I liked scruff, even more so when it glinted silver. His hair was very short,
and I was guessing it used to be nearly black.
“He can ask me anything,” I mumbled.
Makayla laughed. “Right?”
I flushed. Damn, she’d heard me.
Then I cleared my throat, and the man met my gaze. Crap, crap. I
nodded for him to join me at the end of the bar where we served orders, and
he maneuvered his way through the crowd.
He stood out, to say the least, and not only because he was taller than
most of the others in here.
He looked like he could run the vintage music shop across the street.
Since we’d opened last summer, I’d wondered how that place could survive
Georgetown rents by selling old records and memorabilia.
As the man came closer, I noticed his eyes were the most intense hazel-
green color.
I rested my forearms on the rather high bartop, and I cleared my throat.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
He eyed the customers around us, then leaned a little closer. “I’m a
friend of River and Reese Tenley. Any way we can talk in private?”
Oh my God—shit. Um, okay. I got instantly nervous—and didn’t even
know why—and I nodded hesitantly, racking my brain. Talk about limited
options. Either we went up to my place, or I…ugh. Yeah, no, I wasn’t
bringing him upstairs.
“Sure, um, follow me,” I said, gesturing to the short end of the bar
where he could join my side.
I had no choice but to walk through the back till we got to the alley
where we threw away our garbage. It was narrow as hell, and we shared it
with two restaurants.
The cold helped. When it was warm, this alley should be called Stink
Alley.
“Is everything okay with River and Reese?” I asked. “I just saw Reese
last night.”
He inclined his head and stuck his hands down into the pockets of his
jeans. “Yeah, they’re fine. Reese called me after you came to see him, and
we decided it was best to talk to you about something.”
I folded my arms over my chest and shuddered at the cold—but I didn’t
wanna get my jacket. If anything, it helped me keep my nerves at bay.
“Do you remember talking to Kit about the fire out in Mclean a few
months ago?” the man asked.
Crap, should I ask his name—wait. What? The fire?
I squinted. “Um.”
“He made a joke about someone having enemies…?”
Oh hell. My stomach dropped a little, though the lingering confusion
had a tighter grip on me, preventing me from falling down a hole of worries
concerning Caleb.
“I-I remember,” I said. “The fire marshal said it was faulty electrics and
something about the insulation, right?”
There was no way Caleb had actually started the fire, was there? It’d be
a new low, even for him. He always stuck to harassing me online under fake
aliases.
I’d done my best to put the fire behind me. The house had been rebuilt
and looked better than ever.
“Yes,” the man confirmed. He gave me a brief once-over, then glanced
at the door behind me. “Your reaction to Kit’s joke made him worried,
though. He told Colt and Reese about it, and I was asked to look into things
—mostly as a precaution.”
Precaution about what?
“I don’t understand,” I admitted.
He tilted his head at me, a pinch of concern flashing in his eyes. “Reese
worried you might be in trouble—and knowing him, he made this decision
both as someone protective of his community and his members.”
So what, this man had investigated me or something?
“May I ask who you are?” I couldn’t stop shivering.
 “Right—my bad. Of course. My name is Santiago Jones.” He extended
a hand. “Or Joshua, but everyone calls me Santiago. I used to be a detective
with the MPD.”
Jesus, this was quickly becoming a lot to take in. I shook his hand, his
grip firm and a lot warmer than mine was.
“Okay. I’m not hiding anything,” I felt the need to say. Were they gonna
kick me out?
“We know you’re not, Gael,” he murmured. “And we didn’t dig around
for long. I didn’t have to—because the history with your ex-boyfriend came
up right away.”
God-fucking-dammit. I swallowed hard and looked down, and
mortification flooded my cheeks.
“I would have preferred that stayed private,” I muttered. I hoped it was
okay to be annoyed, because what gave them the right?
“I bet. And I’m sorry about that,” he replied. “Just…not sorry enough.”
I frowned and looked up at him again.
“We put this little investigation behind us last year,” he went on. “We
moved on. But then when Reese called me yesterday, I got curious. Call it a
work hazard. I looked up your ex again, and did you know he came here
right before the holidays?”
Oh no.
No, no, no, no, no, but— “Caleb hates the East Coast,” I blurted out.
My breaths came out quicker, and my pulse skyrocketed. “That’s why I
moved here—he would never—he says it’s too gray and cold.”
Santiago furrowed his brow and eyed my shoulders. “He might be right
about the cold—can we head inside? You’re freezing.”
I shook my head stubbornly. “No, thank you. The cold is keeping me
from freaking out. He’s not here right now, is he?”
It wouldn’t be difficult to track me down—if he didn’t already know my
exact address. I didn’t remember how that part worked, but he sort of had to
know, right? Because it was part of Caleb’s stay-away order. He wasn’t
allowed to move closer than fifty yards from my home and place of work.
The judge had determined he wasn’t violent, so maybe Caleb had all the
information he needed.
It was true in a physical aspect; he just liked to scare me, and he was
damn good at it.
 “I don’t know,” Santiago answered. “But I would like to find out—with
your permission.”
I scrunched my nose. “You didn’t need my permission before.”
His mouth twitched with mirth. “I guess we have limits to how much
we’ll invade someone’s privacy without their knowing.”
I huffed. Yeah, okay.
“I’ve squared things with Reese, and he thinks it’s a good idea to
investigate further too,” he said. “If Caleb is still in DC—”
“How do you know, though?” I had to ask. “You said you used to be a
detective—but you’re not anymore?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
Oh. All right.
“Caleb bought a one-way plane ticket on the twenty-third,” he
elaborated. “As far as I can see, he hasn’t returned to the Bay Area, and his
last geo tag online was from New Year’s. He posted a photo on Facebook of
a cup of coffee and said DC had its upsides. The coffee came from
Starbucks up here on M Street.”
Fuck me, that was definitely his tactic. He’d done something similar
before I’d left California.
I’d been with my grandmother in Virginia Beach till January third, but if
he was still here… I shuddered for a whole new reason, and I got queasy. I
couldn’t fucking go down that road again. He’d stolen five years of my life.
First two years to break me down to the sad excuse for a guy I was today,
and then three years of harassment.
He was the reason I’d deleted my Facebook, my old Instagram, and my
Snapchat. I had Mclean and Quora left, and a private Instagram for my 3-D-
printing hobby with precisely four followers. Kit, Dad, Kaley, and Mr.
West, Kit’s Daddy Dom.
“What exactly is it that you want to do?” I asked. “I can’t afford a—”
“That’s not for you to worry about,” Santiago was quick to say. “Call it
an apology from Reese and me. I just wanna find the fucker—keep an eye
on him, make sure he doesn’t get near you. And if he does, we can have
him arrested and taken back to California.” He paused, probably noticing I
was becoming increasingly upset. “He belongs in prison, Gael. I’ve seen the
reports you’ve filed on every time he harassed you online. Each one is a
violation of the restraining order.”
 “The reports don’t freaking matter,” I said, sucking in a breath.
Goddamn, this was too much. Way too much. “They don’t do anything
about it. They give him a slap on the wrist, and that’s all.”
Online harassment was so difficult to prove too, especially if you didn’t
put money and manpower on a case like that. Caleb was good at denying,
and the police were good at letting things go.
“All the more reason to make sure he’s not here right now,” Santiago
pressed. “Has he made contact in any way?”
I shook my head. “Not since Thanksgiving. He sent a message when I
tried to open up a new Facebook account. Soon as I friended my parents, he
understood it was me.”
Santiago turned calculating, as if he was picking apart everything I said.
“Thanksgiving wasn’t that long ago. I think it’s safe to assume he’s still
keeping tabs.”
No doubt. That was what he did. Then he’d reach out every few months,
just to remind me he could screw up my life even more.
“I never should’ve broken up with him.” I scrubbed my hands over my
face.
“You don’t mean that, Gael.”
“Yeah, I actually do.” I let out a humorless laugh and sniffled. “I
should’ve made him break up with me instead. This is all some big,
bruised-ego bullshit. He told me if I ever ended things, he’d make my life a
living hell.”
He took a step closer, jaw clenched, and the intensity in his eyes
unnerved me. “Then let me do this, please. I have a single case I’m working
on right now, and it keeps me glued to a damn laptop eight hours a day. I
can do that from anywhere, whether I sit here when you work or I sit at
home in my study.”
I swallowed nervously, wondering why he cared so much. I wasn’t
annoyed anymore—in case he’d picked up on that earlier—about him and
Reese looking into my life or whatever. Heck, it was clearly a good thing
they had!
“You don’t owe me anything. I don’t understand why you want to waste
all that time on this.”
He lost some of the edge, and he tilted his head at me. “Unfortunately,
my old man passed down the desire to fight crime to me. I can’t stand by if
someone’s getting hurt. But of course, it’s a bit more personal because
you’re a Mclean member.”
Was he a member too? I’d never seen him around before. Including
online.
“How come I’ve never seen you at the house before?” I asked. Not that
I was there a whole lot either.
“Because it’s probably been a year since I last visited,” he answered. “I
used to belong to a community here in town.” He paused briefly. “If you
don’t trust me, which is perfectly natural, I urge you to talk to Reese and
Colt—or Lucas, for that matter. They can vouch for me.”
I hadn’t even thought that far. My head was too fucked. Maybe I could
send Reese and Lucas a message. But when push came to shove, I wanted
nothing more than the promise of Caleb being out of my life, so if this man
was offering to turn the tables on Caleb and keep an eye out, who was I to
turn that down?
“I’ll message them.” I folded my arms over my chest again, unable to
stop shaking. Was it getting colder? “If you’re serious about finding Caleb
or making sure he’s not in town, I will graciously accept. Whatever you
need. I had to move across the country because of him, and I’m so freaking
sick of being afraid.”
“Then we’ll get this taken care of once and for all,” he replied with a
nod. “You don’t have to do anything—besides give me a heads-up on where
you are. You live upstairs, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. I don’t run many errands. I go to class at GW on
Tuesdays and Thursdays, and both days, I’m back here before noon.”
The class on Russian warfare was proving to be a disappointment
because half of it was online with no professor present. Professor Aavik
was much more involved, with weekly testing and an open-door policy if
anyone had questions.
“Oh, um, I have a munch on Sunday,” I added.
Santiago smiled a little. “I guess that’s a good reason for me to attend
too.” He gestured at the door. “Let’s get you out of the cold, shall we? I just
need to grab my laptop from the truck.”
If he was sticking around, I’d make sure to get him a table, and he
wouldn’t pay for a single waffle or coffee or whatever he might want.
It was too soon to be relieved about his presence—considering I’d
barely begun processing the mindfuck of this bizarre day—but I liked the
words, “Then we’ll get this taken care of once and for all.”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 2

Santiago Jones

“G oodImorning, Mr. Santiago—I mean, Mr. Jones.”

looked up from my phone and smiled, surprised to see him so
early. He’d told me he started at ten, and it was only seven. “Mornin’, Gael.
Santiago’s just fine.”
I’d beaten the breakfast rush.
“Got it—Santiago.” He fumbled with his apron.
“I thought you started later.” I walked over to the tables and noticed
he’d put a reserved sign on the one in the back.
“I was going to, but I talked to Kit last night, and apparently you spoke
to Colt about coming in early.”
Ah. There we go with the tight-knit communities. Word traveled fast.
“I like to avoid traffic,” I admitted. I’d also woken up worried as fuck,
but I could keep that to myself.
Like some goddamn rookie, I’d forgotten to ask Gael when Caleb
usually made contact. Day or night? Weekdays or weekends? When he was
sober or drunk? Or was it entirely random?
I firmly believed Caleb Larsen was in town.
A young woman walked in, and I recognized her from yesterday. She
worked here too.
“Hey, Gael.” She went behind the counter as I took my seat and brought
out my laptop.
“Hi. You can have breakfast first,” Gael responded.
“Cool, thanks.” The woman disappeared into the back.
 Gael turned back to me, and it seemed he couldn’t stop fidgeting. He
was definitely on the shy side, and it was highly possible someone had
turned him into that.
“Can I get you some coffee, sir?” he asked. “And breakfast, maybe?”
He was too fucking cute. He’d been as accommodating yesterday.
“It’s a bit early for breakfast for me, but I won’t say no to coffee,” I
answered.
He nodded and got cracking by the coffee machine. “Con leche, right?”
He smiled awkwardly. “That’s what you said yesterday. I-I don’t speak
Spanish beyond tourist stuff.”
I chuckled to myself, wondering how the hell I was gonna get any work
done. “Good to know.”
He busied himself making coffee but kept glancing my way, only to
avert his gaze whenever I caught him. I hadn’t looked away once, highly
entertained. And a little hooked—but I’d been that since I’d first looked
into his background last fall.
Under different circumstances, I would’ve asked him out to dinner or
drinks already. I hadn’t dug very deep since I’d been more interested in
finding information about his asshole ex, but I’d stumbled across enough
bits and pieces to know he was ticking a lot of boxes for me. Unbelievably
cute, beautiful pale blue eyes, on the Little spectrum, smart as hell—it was
possible I’d observed him in Mclean House’s online forum. Well-read,
polite, sweet. The kinks he’d listed as being curious about included group
play, somnophilia, wax play, servitude, and “being Daddy’s goofball.”
I needed a goofball in my life. My past few relationships had given me
the reputation for being a high-protocol Daddy Dom, and while I enjoyed
high-protocol, it wasn’t one of my core kinks. With the job I had, I wanted
to come home to an adorable clown who could brighten my mood.
Someone who could ramble about his day while I made us dinner, and he—
“Here’s your coffee, sir.” Gael came around the counter and set a big
cup of coffee next to my laptop.
I thanked him and took a sip. “Perfect.” First step in becoming human
every morning—a good cup of coffee.
“May I ask how you got your nickname?” he asked. “Are you from
Chile? I went to your Mclean profile, but there’s very little information
there.”
He’d looked me up, huh? Smart boy. Information was always good.
 “My mother’s from there,” I replied. “Dad worked with the DEA in the
seventies and eighties, and they met while he was working a case in
Santiago.”
“Ohh, I see.” He bobbed his head. “Okay, now I know. Thank you.” He
returned behind the counter.
I grinned into my mug and took another sip.
Over the next few minutes, things got busy for Gael as early commuters
wanted breakfast on their way to work. His opening line went on repeat
with each customer who was unfamiliar with the types of waffles. “We have
Belgian, American, and Scandinavian—you can see the differences here—
and then you choose the flavor, plain, chocolate, or blueberry.”
The woman joined him within a few minutes, and by then, I had a tab
up for every social media account Caleb was active on, including Snapchat
on my phone. Up until December 23rd, he’d been very active, posting
almost daily, and now, almost nothing. A single post. His Twitter was all
but dead, his Instagram hadn’t been updated since November…
I logged in on Mclean House under my own name and decided to
browse through new members.
Then I sent Reese a text.
Any chance you can have your web admin let me know if you have
any members logging in from California? Visitors on Gael’s profile would
also be helpful.
I scratched my forehead, knowing my account would pop up frequently
on that list.
Under different circumstances, I repeated to myself. I wasn’t going to
be the dick who made a move on someone who was hurting from an ex who
refused to let go. Besides, work and pleasure didn’t mix. No matter how
personally invested I was, this was work.
My stomach started tightening in hunger around nine o’clock, when the
breakfast rush was over and I’d had two hours of inhaling the scents of
freshly made waffles and all the toppings. One woman had ordered a plain
Belgian waffle with bacon and maple syrup, and I was weirdly intrigued.
Another had ordered a blueberry-flavored American waffle with something
they called creamy lemon whip, fresh blueberries, and white-chocolate
chips. Last but not least, I’d seen two men I was fairly sure were kinky—I
recognized the older of the two—and he’d ordered a chocolate waffle with
chocolate mousse and dark-chocolate chips.
 Fuck it, I wanted something sweet.
I left my seat in the back and brought my coffee mug with me, and I
timed it so that my spot in the line would give me Gael as my waffle maker.
The woman took care of the customer in front of me, and then it was my
turn.
“Oh—hey.” He was a little flushed from working nonstop, and his apron
was stained with waffle batter. “Time for breakfast?”
“Yeah, I can’t resist any longer.” I smiled and scratched my jaw as I
eyed the menu on the wall. “I think I’ll try a Waffled Sampler.” It would
give me a quarter of eight different waffles.
I had a big appetite.
“Yes, sir.” He got started right away by pouring batter into the biggest
waffle maker I’d ever seen. “Would you like them all sweet or savory, or
maybe a few of each?”
So many options. “Do the flavored ones sweet and the plain savory.”
“Good choice. But…may I recommend a Scandinavian quarter with just
whipped butter and syrup?”
Abso-fucking-lutely. “That sounds fantastic.” Crispy sweet with salted
whipped butter—just send me into a food coma right now, thanks.
Someone entered behind me, and I looked over my shoulder. Nope, not
Caleb. Unless he was now a high-school-aged girl.
In the photos I’d seen of him, he’d liked to show off his physique. He
was average height, he definitely skipped leg day to put all focus on his abs,
and he put too much gel in his hair.
I gave Gael free rein with my order, and I merely watched him turn the
waffles into divine little creations I couldn’t wait to devour. Sunny side up,
just the way I liked my eggs. Extra bacon, fuck yeah. The chocolate waffle
was loaded with chocolate mousse, chocolate chips, and then drizzled with
melted white chocolate.
“Fuckin’ hell, boy. I guess this is the definition of food porn.”
He snickered adorably to himself.
“Is this your place?” I had to ask.
“Sort of? It’s my dad’s franchise—he has twelve locations on the West
Coast, two in Denver, one at Houston’s airport, and then me. I run this one.”
Lucky me. I didn’t get enough sweetness in my life.
Gael sent me a teasing little grin. “I thought you knew everything about
me already.”
 I smirked.
I knew too much and not enough.

Gael was off on Saturday and said he was going to stay at home all day and
read and work on a paper, so I had no reason to head into town and be a
Waffled squatter.
He had, thankfully, let me install a camera in the entryway outside his
little apartment, which sent me notifications whenever someone came and
went. No need to buy better locks; he was well prepared in that area. He had
an alarm system too.
It was an uneventful day. I cleared the driveway of what I hoped was the
last snow, I talked to Reese and Colt, I went through the list of visitors on
Gael’s profile page, as well as members out of state, and nothing struck me
as suspect. It was as if Caleb had vanished—which made me all the more
alert.
The guy worked as an assistant manager at a talent agency in San
Francisco, and he’d canceled his monthly parking permit near his work. But
when I called the agency and asked to speak with him, they said he was on
vacation.
I sat down on my couch and looked over my notes.
In the past, as per Gael’s reports and what he’d told me yesterday, Caleb
tended to reach out over weekends. He didn’t drink alcohol or smoke. He
wasn’t on any medication. In college, he’d studied computer science, and
Gael described him as an “intense guy who went to the gym as much as he
tinkered with computers.”
I’d never worked in cybercrime, so my experience was limited when it
came to modern spyware. But I did have a good network of connections,
and I’d sent the photo Caleb had posted before Christmas to a friend, in
hopes I’d find out more about the device Caleb was using. If I could locate
his phone or computer, chances were I’d find him too.
I had to catch up on my real work too. I was passionate about this case.
Because screw jilted wives and husbands who wanted to spy on their
spouses. It did pay the bills from time to time, but I preferred clients with
less drama in their agendas. Like right now, when I worked for an
organization that specialized in tracking down lost family members. It was
my job to vet the people who were looking for someone, just to make sure
they weren’t the ones someone might want to escape or hide from.
I’d never spent so much time on social media before.
I followed trails everywhere, whether it led me to another Facebook
account or to darker corners of the internet. I’d red-flagged several potential
clients for the organization who needed further investigation that went
beyond my abilities.
At around nine PM, I got a text from Colt.
I know you’re sitting at home doing nothing. Come over to the house
and have a beer with us.
I blew out a breath.
But I’d showered and changed into sweats…
No, I wasn’t in the mood. I wanted to find this fucking Caleb guy.
Man, had I become boring since I’d left the city. I’d retired from the
MPD, sold my condo, bought a little house west of Manassas, and started
living on TV dinners. I was in bed by ten most nights.
If my mamá could see the state of my fridge and freezer right now…
She’d throw it all out and curse at me.
“You used to cook all the time, mijo! Sometimes for hours! What is this?
Cheese in a bottle? Ptui!”
Then she’d get so heated that she would switch to Spanish and bring
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph into the argument too.
I was forty-two years old, but a scolding from her could still make me
feel like a kid.
This couldn’t go on. I didn’t have too much work on my plate, so I
couldn’t blame that anymore either. It was an excuse I’d used ad nauseum
anyway. For everything. Oh, you’ve barely decorated your house. Yeah, I
work too much, Dad. You comin’ to the kink party? Can’t, I have work.
I withdrew my feet from the coffee table and eyed the moving boxes in
the dining area.
Maybe it was time to unpack my home.
I’d bought the kind of house I’d had my eye on for years. Too close to
the nearest strip mall to be called “out in the sticks,” and too far away from
street grids and neighborhoods where the houses all looked the same. I had
four neighbors and fields all around, but I could still get takeout delivered
in twenty minutes.
 I had a nice kitchen with a big island, meant to be used for other things
than dumping mail. A cozy living room slash dining area with an open fire.
Three bedrooms upstairs. A big backyard where I was supposed to let a dog
or two run around, but I’d been too busy working to look into pet shelters.
I ran a hand over my head and picked up my phone again, and I replied
to Colt.
Sorry, I’m too busy throwing out TV dinners and planning changes in
my life to come tonight. But I’ll be at the munch tomorrow, and I
solemnly swear to sign up to join the Game.

I didn’t have to idle outside Waffled for long on Sunday morning before
Gael hurried out.
He looked extra nervous today, all bundled up in mittens, beanie, and
down jacket. “Good morning.”
“Morning. You okay?” I waited till he was seated and had the belt on
before I pulled away from the curb.
“Um, yeah. I guess. I just get nervous before a big social event.”
I nodded in understanding. “Were you nervous before Caleb too?”
“Not to this degree,” he said. “I could be shy at first, but then I relaxed
and…yeah.”
I wanted to see that side of him. I’d seen glimpses of it yesterday, and
it’d been impossible not to smile when he was happy.
It wasn’t my place to get attached, or to make him happy, but at least I
could keep him safe. Hence, why I’d all but insisted I pick him up this
morning. He shouldn’t have to worry about anything.
“You really didn’t have to pick me up, sir,” he said.
“I wanted to.” I also wanted to flirt with him and turn his polite “sirs”
into “Sir.”
It was possible I needed to get laid.
It was also possible I’d spent too much time observing Gael’s
interactions online.
“I watched your latest Falklands War debate unfold last night,” I
admitted. “I don’t know who that AlphaDom69 is, but you crushed him.”
Gael let out a gigglesnort and promptly slapped a hand over his mouth.
 Too cute.
“I’m sorry, but with a name like that, he deserved it,” he answered. “He
annoys me so much. Like, he throws himself into these calm discussions
with arguments he’s so sure of, and they’re almost always wrong.” He
grinned out the window. “I liked when Greer called him a fuck-knuckle.”
Yeah, that’d been a well-placed punch.
“Do you know Greer?” he wondered.
“Not really,” I said, slowing down before a red light. “I mean, we’ve
crossed paths, definitely. He’s dating an ex play partner of mine.”
“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him. “Archie? Corey?”
“Sloan,” I said. “We used to co-Top subs together.”
Sloan and I had been perfect together in the way that we’d only been
interested in casual playtime. He’d been balls deep in surviving his ex-wife,
and I’d…had too much work.
“Maybe you know Cam and Noa…?” I side-eyed him. “They’re in
Mclean too.”
“I know who they are.” He nodded. “Noa’s super funny. We joined the
community at the same time.”
Noa was fun. A wild little thing. Last I heard from Sloan, Noa and Cam
were finally with the two men they’d pined after for so long. Together with
KC and Lucian, they formed a poly-house much like Greer, Sloan, Archie,
and Corey.
“So you were with Noa and Cam?” Gael asked carefully.
I inclined my head. “For a while. I guess we were each other’s kinky
waiting room. Noa and Cam were hooked on KC and Lucian from afar,
Sloan had issues with his ex-wife, and I…”
I sighed.
Saying it was just too much work would’ve been bullshit.
“And you, sir?”
I smiled ruefully and eyed the rearview. “That’s a boring story. In short,
I’ve been mentally exhausted from work, and it’s kinda bled into everything
else in my life.” I threw him a glance to gauge if I should continue or cut
myself off, but his eyes showed nothing but interest. And possibly concern.
“I’ve done everything half-assed because everything’s felt half-assed. A
burger’s been 75% delicious instead of one hundred, I’ve slept okay but not
great, music’s been all right but not fantastic, I fall asleep to movies I
usually love. Things like that.”
 “I think I understand.” He nodded slowly. “Maybe you’ve been burned
out?”
The term had certainly come up with my therapist before I’d retired,
along with depression.
And I kept hearing I was too young to feel like an old man.
“Either way, it’s a slow recovery, but I’m getting there.” I sent him a
quick smile. “All the waffles I inhaled the other day were definitely 100%.”
He flashed a goofy smile that was so free of awkwardness and
anxiousness that I lost my resolve. Would it be so wrong if I showed my
interest? If he backed away when I stepped forward, I’d have my answer—
no harm, no foul—but it felt like a fucking waste to not do anything at all.
Because what if.
As we got closer to Logan Circle and Macklin’s restaurant, I could tell
Gael’s nerves came back in full force, and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted
to make things easier for him. It was right there on his profile page—he
wanted to meet new people and make friends, and I didn’t see the harm in
lending him a hand.
“When we get to the munch, you could stay close to me,” I said. “I’ll be
your wingman until you’re ready to fly on your own.”
“Heh. Wingman.” He bit at a cuticle and shook his head. “I don’t want
to be in the way.”
“Who says you would be?” I furrowed my brow. “It’s a munch among
friends, and we can be friends too, can’t we? Or do you have something
against Daddy Doms with a growing waffle addiction?”
That earned me another pinch of sweet amusement. “I would like very
much to be your friend.”
“It’s settled, then.” I gave his knee a brief squeeze and smiled. “You
hide out with me when the social anxiety gets to be too much, and I’ll give
you a little nudge when I think you’re ready for more. In the meantime, you
keep supplying me with waffles.”
He snickered and nodded. “Okay. All the waffles you can eat, I promise.
And coffee con leche.”
“And coffee con leche,” I chuckled. “You’re a pro already.”
That seemed to give him a little boost, and he sat higher in his seat
while I hunted down a parking spot not too far away from the restaurant.
“Just promise to let me know if I get too clingy,” he said.
 Fuck, great opening for me. “That goes both ways. You let me know if I
make you uncomfortable. With you, I find it’s too easy to slip into Daddy
mode and get protective.”
It was nothing but the truth anyway.
“Really? But—you protect people in your work, sir,” he said. “I would
think you’re naturally protective.”
“You have a point.” I grinned to myself as I checked my blind spot and
backed into the slot between two nice SUVs that didn’t need to be scratched
by my old truck. “My clients at work are never cute subbie boys, though.
More than that, they’re not you.”
I let him process that while I squeezed myself into the tightest parking
spot ever. Christ. But it was either this or walking four blocks or something.
It was never easy finding parking in this area.
Bottom line, I wanted to be honest with Gael. I wanted him to know I
was interested in him, not just any subbie boy, but that didn’t mean I was
going to crowd him or make a move he wasn’t ready for. We didn’t know
each other. I knew him fairly well from having observed him so much, and I
preferred to put all my cards on the table. What happened after was up to
him, but no matter what, his safety and comfort came first.
Once I’d killed the engine, we climbed out, and he waited for me on the
sidewalk.
His gaze flickered; he struggled to maintain eye contact, and he looked
like he wanted to say something, but shyness kept him from opening his
mouth.
“Did I cross a line already?” I asked half jokingly.
He widened his eyes and shook his head quickly. “No, I-I just—I’m not
sure I understand what you meant by…you know.”
I had no problems spelling things out.
“Let’s put it this way,” I said, forcing myself to put my hands down in
the pockets of my jeans rather than somewhere else. “If I wasn’t worried
about what your ex has done to you, I would’ve asked you out on a date by
now. So this is my way of letting you know that when or if you feel ready to
meet someone new, I’ll keep my fingers crossed you’ll want to have dinner
with me. How’s that?”
I couldn’t be more blunt, and yet he still looked like he was trying to
figure something out.
 “And there he is,” I heard a familiar Texan stage-whisper. “The elusive
Santiago Jones. It’s important we don’t spook him, little darlin’, ’cause he
might run away again.”
I felt my mouth twist into a smirk, and I reluctantly looked away from
Gael to see Colt and his two men walking up the street.
“Always impeccable timing, my friend,” I drawled.
Maybe this was for the best. Gael probably needed a moment to
process, which spoke volumes of his readiness. It wasn’t as if I’d said
anything weird.
“Hi, Gael! I’m so glad you came today,” Kit said happily.
We’d never met before, so Colt dove into introductions. “Kit, I want
you to meet Santiago. Daddy Dom, primal player, and wax-player
extraordinaire. Santiago, our boy, Kit.”
I shook the boy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Kit.”
“You too, Sir! I’ve heard lots of things about you.”
“If it comes from Colt, take it with a grain of salt,” I chuckled, moving
on to shake Lucas’s hand. “Good to see you again, buddy.”
“You too.” Lucas smiled between Gael and me, visibly curious. “How
are you today, Gael?”
Colt stepped closer to Gael and threw an arm around the boy’s
shoulders. “Yeah, you still afraid of me, pet?”
I lifted my brows and tensed up a bit. I just wanted to make sure Gael
didn’t get too uncomfortable.
He laughed nervously. “Not at all, Sir. Kit assures me you’re like a
kitten.”
I grinned, loving his response.
“Attaboy,” Colt laughed. “I’m always nice to brats.”
“Uhhh.” Kit raised his brows. “That’s such a lie, Daddy. Come on, Gael.
Let’s go upstairs and see who else is here.”
While Kit ushered Gael up the steps to the restaurant, I resigned myself
to watch Gael from afar for a while.
Nobody wanted to stand out here in the cold, so Colt, Lucas, and I
followed, and we trailed up to the rooftop terrace that’d changed a lot since
I was here last time. The picnic tables were still here, but so was a ceiling.
And heaters. I’d read something about this online. Because of the fire last
year, they’d used Macklin’s restaurant for casual meetups and smaller
events while they’d rebuilt what’d been damaged in the house.
 It was a nice restaurant, and I’d eaten here plenty in the past. Actually, it
was great for dates because it used to be a residential building, which meant
all the dining rooms were on the smaller side and therefore cozy and
intimate. I’d been here with friends and for munches, but I wouldn’t mind
testing it out for the dating purpose. Preferably with Gael.
Some fifteen or twenty kinksters were scattered across the terrace, with
most having shed their jackets. Lucas was quick to go off and greet friends
—I spotted the Tenleys and their boy Shay, as well as Noa and Cam with
their Doms.
Colt and I stayed back for the moment; he wanted an update on Caleb,
and I wanted to let him know the camera I’d installed in Gael’s entryway
was working great. Not everyone welcomed new technology, and I was
sometimes one of them, but it was damn comfortable having an app to
check for updates.
Colt worked in security; he ran his own business with two buddies from
the Air Force, where he’d spent twenty years as a fighter pilot, so he was all
ears about the gadgets I’d purchased through their firm. Apparently, he had
installed the same cameras at their house, and they were all linked to the
same app. He showed me on his phone how he could just flip between the
cameras to show their feed.
“I like this part of joining the private sector,” I said, still not used to the
availability of so much technology. Back in the day, if I’d needed
surveillance, it had to go through a whole chain of people within the
department. “Can you imagine I didn’t have to sign a single form to do
this?”
Colt laughed and slapped a hand to my back. “It’s nice, innit? You
should come out to MadCo sometime. We have a bunch of shit you can try
out. I just installed new security doors at home for a trial run. They have
smart screens with a shit-ton of features, so I’m not sayin’ it’s all sunshine
and roses—I’m right there on the fence between if it ain’t broke, don’t fix
it, and let’s upgrade our security to the max.”
Yeah, definitely relatable. “I feel that. It goes against my nature to hook
everything up to the internet where we’re too vulnerable. At the same time,
it’s so goddamn comfortable to run my security through an app on my
phone.”
“Yup, it’s a constant battle,” he agreed with a nod. “We actually shy
away from depending on the internet, though. The doors require a power
source but no online connection. That’s Ty’s area—he’s the engineer of the
future who wants shit as basic as possible.”
I liked the guy already. He was a member at Mclean too, if I wasn’t
mistaken.
“Colt!” Lucas called across the terrace.
“Be right there!” Colt hollered back. He hauled out his wallet and
retrieved a business card that he extended to me. “That’s our address. Come
out whenever. Right now, we’re trying to grow our network of personnel
trained in security, so if I run across a client who’s lookin’ for a PI, I can
send them your way.”
“And you’ll be my tech hustler for security—sweet deal,” I chuckled.
“Exactly. See you later, Detective.”
“Later.” I smiled and glanced at the card. MadCo Sec. Madison, Carter,
Fischer. They were based out in Fairfax, so it wasn’t far away from where I
lived.
“Hi.”
Oh hell, I hadn’t seen him there. “Hey, you.” Fuck, it was too soon to
get all warm at the thought of Gael wanting to return to me so quickly.
I liked his shy grin, though. It was cute as fuck.
“I came back as soon as I could,” he admitted. “But I promised myself
to let Kit nudge me toward other people so I can make friends…”
“I think that’s a fantastic promise,” I said. “You can’t have too many
friends.”
We stepped to the side as more people arrived, and I reckoned we
should find a table soon. Cam waved to me from across the area, and I
smiled and waved back. He looked much happier these days, and that made
me happy too. Unrequited love was painful. Thankfully, it’d been more a
case of Lucian getting out of a bad relationship and slowly becoming ready
for Cam. I’d witnessed their interactions online, and I had a feeling they
were set for life now with their foursome.
I turned back to Gael and—
“Joshua?”
That voice.
I spun around and came face-to-face with Dean for the first time in
probably four years. Holy shit. I mean, I’d known it was only a matter of
time before we ran into each other again, especially since he was a Mclean
member, but goddamn. He was still a sight for sore eyes.
 “Dean. Fuck, it’s been a while.” I couldn’t help it; I lit right up, and I
took an automatic step forward.
He smiled warmly and shook my hand, and he gave my bicep a squeeze.
“Much too long. How are you?”
“I’m great. You? Last I heard, you were teaching at some fancy
university on the West Coast.”
He chuckled. “I was at Stanford, yes. I came back before the holidays.”
Amazing. It felt so fucking good to see him again. Not much had
changed. He was still the epitome of handsome, charismatic history
professor. Which reminded me—Gael would like him too.
“You should meet—” I cut myself off when I glanced around me and
didn’t see Gael anywhere. What the fuck? “He was just here.” I looked
across the terrace. It’d filled up nicely since we’d arrived, and I was sure
one of the founding members would take the metaphorical stage soon.
“Who?” Dean wondered.
“Gael,” I said. “It’s this sweet boy I’m helping out—long story—but he
seems to have vanished.” I had to go look for him.
“Ah. Would that be a Gael Grimes, by any chance?”
I looked back to Dean. “So you know him?”
He smiled ruefully. “I believe it’s me he’s hiding from. He’s in one of
my classes—and he hides there too.”
I frowned, confused as fuck.
“Macklin’s trying to play matchmaker,” he elaborated. “Gael is
evidently interested in history, so Macklin encouraged him to sign up for
my class in hopes I’d…I don’t know. The boy’s been reading too many
romance novels.” The boy in question would be Macklin, then. Dean’s
brother-in-law. “If he wanted me to notice Gael, he’s first and foremost late
to the party, but he picked the wrong approach. I’d never do anything
inappropriate with a student—besides, I’m much too old for him.” He
didn’t seem too happy to admit that last part. “I love his spirit online,
though. I’ve observed him in the history group on the Mclean forum.”
Weren’t we a pair? It was funny because this wasn’t the first time Dean
and I had shown interest in the same sub.
“I’m actually here today mostly to find him,” Dean admitted. “I read the
attendance list online this morning and saw his name. I don’t want him to
hide from me.”
 I felt my forehead wrinkle some more. “I find it weird that he thought
he could.”
“Eighty-four students.” Dean weighed his response. “I’m sure he
thought he could blend in and that I wouldn’t react solely on his name.
Which I didn’t at first—I’ll give him that. But once I saw him, I knew I’d
seen him somewhere else. He was at a wine mixer that Macklin hosted here
before the holidays.”
I nodded and eyed my surroundings again. Well, he couldn’t have gotten
far— I cocked my head, noticing Kit in the doorway. He was speaking in a
hushed voice, and whoever he was with didn’t wanna come out.
“I think I know where we can find him.” I gestured at the doorway. Gael
wouldn’t have many spots to hide in there. The third floor had a sealed-off
area with a few smaller dining rooms that Macklin rarely used, and other
than that, it was just a bathroom marked with a private sign, a service
elevator, and the landing by the stairs. At most, some lost patron wandered
up here and wondered where the hell they were.
Dean and I trailed over to the door, and it only took Kit a couple
seconds to spot us. He widened his eyes, then blurted out, “Abandon ship,
every man for himself!” and ran off.
Fucking hell, I’d missed being around Littles.
“Kit!” I heard Gael whisper-yell.
Dean and I exchanged a grin before I poked my head through the
doorway, and there he was, hugging the wall by the service elevator.
“Hey, little one,” I said casually. “You hidin’ from someone?”
He winced and bit at his thumbnail. “Maybe?”
Excellent timing for Dean to walk through the door and reveal himself
to Gael.
“Oh crap,” Gael mumbled. “Um, hello, Professor Aavik.”
“Hello, dear.” Dean was as amused as I was. “If we pretend I didn’t
already know you’re my student, you just gave yourself away.”
“Aw, man.” Gael made a face and zipped up his jacket higher, as if he
was trying to retreat into it. “So this is embarrassing.”
“More like entertaining,” I offered.
Dean inclined his head to me, then decided to put Gael out of his
misery. “There’s no reason for you to hide from me, Gael. I’m sure we can
keep things professional in class despite the lifestyle we have in common.
Wouldn’t you agree?”
 Gael shuffled forward a couple steps. “Maybe. I guess I’m not very
good at being a sneak.”
“That’s a good thing, sweetheart,” I told him.
“Very much,” Dean agreed. “We can leave the sneaking to Macklin. I’ve
already renamed him troublemaker.”
Fitting name—though, I liked troublemakers too, Macklin included. It’d
been a while since I’d seen him. And played with him. I knew he was
finally back with his husband, something we’d all been waiting for.
Sometimes, two stubborn men just needed to get their shit together and
communicate better.
“I’ll admit I’m curious, though.” Dean tilted his head at Gael. “Why did
you feel the need to hide from me in the first place? I’ve seen some of your
interactions in Mclean’s history group, and you’re clearly vocal about your
opinions—which are all correct, for the record. Screw what that Alpha
imbecile is rambling about.”
Oh, I had a guess for this.
I eyed Gael and sensed his growing discomfort, how he broke eye
contact and fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket.
“Maybe we let the boy keep some secrets,” I suggested. I gave Dean a
brief, pointed look. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”
Knowing Macklin, he’d tried to set up Gael and Dean because he’d
noticed someone’s interest.
Dean didn’t seem to get it but let things go, and out on the terrace,
Reese welcomed everybody to the munch. In other words, it was time to get
back out there.
“Excuse me, I just have to go to the bathroom.” Gael hurried down the
stairs.
He wasn’t escaping again, was he?
I could give him a couple minutes.
“What am I missing?” Dean asked.
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the wall. “He’s into you, you lucky
bastard.”
I could admit I was a little jealous.
“Oh.” Dean furrowed his brow. “Then there must be something wrong
with him. I’m more than twice his age.”
So?
We were all consenting adults here, weren’t we?
 “It’s not like he’s fresh out of high school.” I frowned. “He turns
twenty-four in a few weeks”
He cocked a brow at me. “And I turned twenty-four thirty damn years
ago.”
I grinned, having really missed his semi-uptight personality. It was all a
ruse. A front. Have a couple drinks with him, and then… Nothing about
him was uptight.
“Don’t give me that smile, Joshua.”
Or what?
I just wanted to…ruffle those sweater-vest feathers and get under his
skin. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever succeeded in riling him up. He was
always so composed and well-spoken. And he was the only one who
refused to call me Santiago. He’d told me once that my name was Joshua
and that it was beautiful. Then he’d downed his whiskey and left me
hanging.
“Are you seeing anyone?” I had to ask.
Because that’d always been our problem. We’d never been single at the
same time. We’d…flirted over drinks, we’d acknowledged each other from
across a nightclub, we’d ended up in group play together—but commitment
to others had kept us from exploring why we had this chemistry. He felt it
too.
He sighed and took a step closer to me. “No. What about you?”
I shook my head. “I have my fingers crossed Gael will let me take him
out to dinner at some point. That’s it.”
Dean hummed and took another step. “Are you telling me we’re both
available, for once?”
“Sure sounds like it, doesn’t it?”
The disbelief and excitement I felt, not to mention the deep-rooted
desire, were reflected in his eyes as he closed the last distance and ghosted
the tip of his nose across my cheek. Lust flooded my senses, and I slipped
my hands up his sides, picturing us naked and grabbing at each other, with
him eventually pushing me down to fuck me hard.
I shuddered and nipped at his jaw.
Our bizarre little reunion took place in the shadows to the background
noise of Reese and Colt entertaining a crowd…while I was waiting for Gael
to return. Christ. This day was already everything I hadn’t dared hope for
when I’d woken up.
 Dean brushed his lips to the corner of my mouth. “Didn’t we agree once
that we’d probably be trouble for each other?”
Something like that.
“I think we were drunk,” I said quietly. “We shouldn’t listen to
ourselves when we’re drunk.” I tilted my face just enough, and I was right
there, about to kiss him, when we got interrupted by a beeping signal.
Dean cursed under his breath and inched away, and he pulled out his
phone.
I had a feeling I knew what it was about, because the signal didn’t
remind me of a message received or an incoming call.
“Do you need food or insulin?” I murmured.
He made a face and pocketed his phone again. “I forgot you knew.
Food. I’ll go down and order somethin’.”
Right. If he’d decided today to come here, he’d missed the preorder
form.
“I’ll save you a seat unless you have other plans.” But I wasn’t satisfied
with that. Who knew when I’d get my next chance, so I stepped up to him
once more, and I cupped his face and kissed him firmly.
He smiled and kissed me back. “You just became my plan. I’ll be right
back.”
Perfect.
Fucking hell, perfect. I couldn’t believe my luck. This would make one
fantastic comeback to the land of the living. No more excuses, no more
bailing because I had work or was tired, no more running toward solitude
when I fucking hated it.
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and jaw, unable to shake the smile.
Dean disappeared down the stairs, just a second or two before servers
appeared with food. Three came up the stairs, and two came out the service
elevator with an impressive cart.
I got out of the way but stayed near the stairs, and I hoped I wouldn’t
have to chase after Gael again. Even more, I hoped I could get him
interested in me when he was ready. Because if he had a crush on Dean
already…? I mean, I’d read Gael’s fetish list. He was curious about group
play—and I loved to share as long as I got a generous piece for myself. To
myself. Being non-monogamous didn’t mean I wasn’t possessive, though
that was usually reserved for steady partners. It’d been so long since I’d
been in a committed relationship outside the parameters of a kink dynamic
that I was wary to shoot for the stars right away.
But who knew?

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 3

Gael Grimes

O kay,Itbewould
cool. Be cool. Be fucking cool.
be so damn easy to just run down the stairs, call a cab, and
forget about House Mclean forever. Actually, the forgetting part would be
anything but easy—the running part, however…
I threw away the paper towel and draped my jacket over my arm, then
forced myself to leave the bathroom and go up instead of down. Not back to
the first floor, not toward a lifetime of loneliness, but up. Up to the third
floor…where Santiago was waiting for me. And I wasn’t imagining the
relief in his gaze. It was there. Maybe he’d thought I would leave.
“There you are. They’re serving our food now.”
Could this man really want me? He’d been so straightforward that
there’d been no mistaking his intent—and yet, I did…? I freaking hated my
doubts.
I hurried over to him, and he smiled reassuringly and led the way back
to the terrace.
I didn’t see Professor Aavik anywhere. Perhaps he’d left.
I stayed close to Santiago and tried to summon enough courage to,
like…make a move or something. Could I grab his hand? No, gosh, too
soon. I wasn’t that gutsy. But I wanted him to know. Because of-freaking-
course I was interested. How could I not be? Santiago Jones wasn’t merely
the bad boy in a leather jacket and devil-may-care charm and scruff and…
all the things that made him look so sexy and rough around the edges. He
was super sweet and kind and protective.
 At first glance, Santiago was the man you didn’t wanna meet in a dark
alley.
At second glance, you wanted to beg him to take you there.
He found us a spot near the middle of the terrace, and he nodded hello
to Tate, Master Kingsley, Beau, and…I was fairly sure that was Nathan. He
was part of the bondage crowd.
“Are Macklin and Walker here today?” Santiago asked.
“No, they had plans,” Tate answered. He smiled politely at me. “Hey,
Gael.”
“Hi.” I smiled back.
I squeezed myself in next to Santiago, and he shrugged out of his jacket
and dropped it on the seat across from us.
“For Dean,” he explained.
Oh shit. So he was coming back, huh?
Wonderful.
I pushed my own jacket down and trapped it between my feet, and the
next minute or so was delivery mayhem while servers and a couple subs ran
around to make sure everyone got their preordered meals. The big plate of
fries that ended up between Tate and Master Kingsley looked super tasty.
“Santiago Jones?” Gretchen hollered.
“Right here, hon.” Santiago offered a two-finger wave, and Gretchen
handed him a plate, then a soda. He’d ordered a delicious-looking Cuban
sandwich and fries.
“So good to see you here, Sir.” She gave him a quick hug from behind.
“Uh-uh, you forgot somethin’, pet.” He tapped his cheek.
She laughed and smooched his cheek.
Lucky girl.
“Gretch, have you talked to Ivy?” Tate wondered.
“Yeah, she’s all about puking.” Gretchen winced. “I hope it passes soon.
She can barely hold anything down.”
I knew Ivy. She was also very kind and welcoming. And she was
pregnant.
My food and Sprite Zero were next, and my stomach snarled with
hunger. I should’ve ordered the fries, but at least I got this cheeseburger.
They were awesome!
“That looks fantastic.” Santiago leaned close and inspected the burger.
“So do your sandwich and fries.” I grinned.
 He remained close and raised a brow, almost conspiratorially. “You
wanna go halfsies?”
He was being playful with me! It filled me with so much…gah…that I
wanted to bounce in my seat. But I was a grown man. I did not bounce.
“I won’t say no.” I bit my lip and scooted an inch closer to him, and it
pressed my thigh against his.
My stomach fluttered and tightened when he narrowed his eyes and
leaned in closer, then pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“Tempting boy,” he murmured.
He was a million times more tempting!
I couldn’t freaking speak, because if I did, I felt like a bunch of
gibberish would fall out, so I kept grinning like a loon, and I sort of
squeezed his arm. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know what to do with all this
exuberance in my body. I wasn’t used to it.
“I c-can’t talk,” I managed to stammer out. I just didn’t want him to get
the wrong idea—like, maybe I didn’t have anything to say or…I didn’t
know.
“You don’t have to.” He switched gears, and something gentled in his
gaze. He put his arm around me. “You overwhelmed?”
“A little or a lot.” I nodded.
He chuckled. “A little or a lot. Got it. We’ll focus on getting some food
in us.” He pushed his plate closer to mine, and he kind of closed us in. He
turned toward me, and he shifted me toward him, and I liked that very
much. “Let’s test the crunch in these fries. They need a perfect crunch.”
I accepted two fries from him, and I merely mimicked his movement.
When he bit into one, I did the same.
“Oh yeah, we can count on Macklin.” He nodded in approval.
I chewed and stuck the rest into my mouth, and they were so amazing.
Either they were battered or they were double-fried, and they were dusted
with herbs and spices.
“Delicious, right?”
I nodded again. “Super delicious.”
He didn’t seem to mind I was a total spaz, and that relaxed me some. I
picked up my burger as he did the same with his sandwich, and for the first
time since I’d arrived, I didn’t wanna be anywhere else on the planet.
“There’s Dean.” Santiago looked up from our bubble and raised a hand.
“Dean!”
 Gosh darn it.
I busied myself with my burger and probably looked like an idiot with
condiments and cheese everywhere, mouth full, and cheeks puffed out when
Professor Aavik sat down across from us with his…oh. Plain chicken with
wild rice and a salad.
He was frowning to himself. “Next time, you will have to order for me,
Joshua.”
Santiago swallowed what was in his mouth and eyed the professor’s
food. “What the fuck is that? That’s so unlike you.”
“It appears my troublemaking little brother-in-law has blacklisted my
name from the regular menu,” Professor Aavik grumbled. “The staff was
apologetic about it, so I didn’t make a fuss, but this is too much. He’ll be
hearing from me. Maybe Walker can tan his hide or somethin’.”
I didn’t understand. Was Macklin not allowing Professor Aavik to order
whatever he wanted?
Wait, brother-in-law? Ohhh, so that was their connection. Now I had the
full picture—and it made sense. I’d heard Macklin say something about his
husband’s brother, but I hadn’t connected the dots. Doh, it was Dean.
Professor Aavik was Master Walker’s older brother.
I was so slow sometimes.
“He’s just concerned, Sir.” Tate threw in his two cents.
Concerned about what?
“I understand, but I have limits,” Professor Aavik replied patiently.
I could tell he was holding back his annoyance, so I kept my mouth
shut.
“I’m buying pizza on the way home,” he muttered to himself.
“You should try the savory waffles at Gael’s place,” Santiago said.
“They’re fucking amazing.”
Oh no, the spotlight should not be on me.
Professor Aavik stabbed some lettuce and chicken with his fork and
glanced up, first at Santiago, then at me, then back to Santiago. “Tell me
more.”
“I’m listenin’ too,” Kingsley said.
“He runs Waffled over in Georgetown,” Santiago divulged. “They make
savory waffles with shit like eggs and bacon, hot chicken, and a beef stir-
fry. I’ve tried some, and they’re next level.”
 Tate perked up. “That has to be the place Franklin’s always raving
about. He didn’t tell me it was where you worked, Gael.”
“He probably doesn’t recognize me.” I shrugged. Truth was, I hadn’t
been sure it’d been Franklin—and his partner, for that matter—who came in
sometimes, though I’d had my guesses.
“That settles it,” Professor Aavik said, meeting Santiago’s gaze. “We’ll
go there after the munch.”
Santiago nodded. “Great plan.” Under the table, he slipped a hand onto
my thigh, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “You’ll come with us, won’t
you, boy?”
I caught Tate smirking, and it made me flush.
“Y-yeah, sure, absolutely.” I cleared my throat and tried to act cool.
Holy crap, I guessed I had plans after the munch.
With Santiago and Professor Aavik.
Oh my God. What if we stayed at Waffled all day and talked history? I
mean, he knew who I was now; he knew I was in his class, and I didn’t
have to hide anymore. I could finally join the conversation.
As intimidated as I was by Professor Aavik, it would be a dream come
true to just sit and talk history with him for hours. Maybe he could sign my
books!

By the time the munch was over, I’d made up my mind. I was going to
make Professor Aavik like me so he could be my friend too.
Step one, be less awkward. I should be able to accomplish that in a year
or two.
I didn’t freaking know what to say, and here I was…out on the
sidewalk, all alone with the professor, while Santiago chitchatted on the
stoop with Master Greer and Sloan. They were Corey’s Owners. And
Archie’s Owners.
I put on my mittens and snuck a glance at Professor Aavik, who was
typing on his phone.
“Would you say this review of the restaurant packs a good punch?” he
asked, stepping closer to show me his phone. “I thought I’d text it to
Macklin, and if he doesn’t lift this ridiculous ban, I’ll post it everywhere.”
 I felt my eyebrows lift, and I scanned the text he’d prepared.
After years of enjoying the cuisine here, I must say I’m disappointed
in the owner’s new direction. It reminds me of my early childhood years
in Estonia during the Soviet occupation. The staff completely disregarded
my order and decided for themselves what I should eat. If this continues, I
will not return.
“Yikes. Um, yes, I’d say it packs a punch, Sir,” I said.
“Good. There.” He pressed send. “Now we wait for Macklin’s no-doubt
dramatic response.”
I wasn’t sure it could be more dramatic than Aavik’s message.
“Did you really grow up in Estonia?” I found that way more interesting.
He inclined his head. “I don’t have many memories of the place, I’ll
admit. My mother fled after my father was murdered.”
Holy shit.
“I’m so sorry, Sir. I shouldn’t have pried.”
He waved that off. “It’s not a sore topic these days. If anything, it’s a
source of pride for my heritage. My father was a great man—a general who
committed treason against the USSR.”
That was incredible. He was part of so much history—and if his father
dared go against the occupation, he had to have been brave.
“So he was working for the US?” I wondered.
Professor Aavik zipped up his jacket some more and weighed his
response. “Covertly, yes. But mostly, he was working for the Estonian
people. He and my biological mother dedicated their lives to Estonia’s
independence.”
“Wow.” I just stared up at him, wishing I could ask a million questions.
I bet I could listen to him for weeks and never get tired. “And then your
mom fled with you and Master Walker…?”
“No, just me.” He smiled faintly. “Walker is my foster brother. His
mother took me in after mine passed away from breast cancer. Sadly, I don’t
have many memories left of her either. She died very young. But…she
made enough of an impact to make me the second historian in the family.”
His smile held traces of pride. “I suppose I followed in both their footsteps,
first my father when I joined the Navy, and then my mother when I became
a professor.”
I thought back on the books I had, the ones Professor Aavik had written,
and unless I was missing a title or several, he hadn’t written any memoirs.
Most of his works were about the Cold War and naval history.
“If you ever teach a class or write a book about your family history,
please let me know,” I said. “I have, like, a million questions.”
Professor Aavik chuckled warmly and clasped his hands behind his
back. “Most people would fall asleep at the mere thought.”
“Not me.” I stood up straighter and couldn’t help but let some of my
excitement fall out. “Postwar Europe is extremely fascinating—partly
because we discuss it today as if it happened hundreds of years ago, but it
didn’t. I mean, people remember the nineties! The lines on the map were
redrawn just thirty years ago.”
He peered down at me with a look that could only be described as
approval, so I took that as a win and let out a breath. “I hope I get to see this
side of you in class from now on, Gael.”
Eeep!
“I’ll try to find the courage.” I grinned. “When it comes to history, I can
usually ramble for hours.”
“I look forward to that,” he replied. “What angle did you choose for
your paper?”
I spotted Santiago coming toward us, so I kept it brief—which
obviously made me stumble over my words. “Okay, so aside from the Cold
War, I think Falklands is an excellent display of the importance of, um, like,
you know, a navy using its own strength and what a force it becomes when
you add intelligence—like, we had the spy satellite and…yeah. So, in short,
the angle is the, uh, the results we see between naval warfare and
intelligence when they come together.” Right then and there, Santiago
reached us, and I had to wrap things up. “I sort of liken it to the smart
bombs we’ve seen since Desert Storm.” Judging by the flash of recognition
in Professor Aavik’s eyes, he understood and approved of my analogy. “On
its own, the Navy can cause a lot of destruction, but when you add
intelligence, you get the precision-guided munitions that strike right on top
of the target.”
“I guess I just stepped into the History Lovers group on the Mclean
forum,” Santiago joked.
Professor Aavik grinned, and it was the most charismatic grin. “We’ll
hopefully revisit that very soon, because I suddenly want to pick Gael’s
brain about a paper he’s just started.”
Triumph! Maybe he could like me, too, and want to be my friend.
 “No complaints from me,” Santiago said. “This is my brand of
geekery.” He turned to Professor Aavik. “Where’s your car?”
“At home. I walked,” he replied.
Santiago lifted his eyebrows. “You walked here from Georgetown?”
Oh. He lived in Georgetown too?
“Yes?” Professor Aavik didn’t see the big deal. I had to side with
Santiago. That had to have taken at least an hour! “It’s a nice forty-minute
stroll—and the weather is good.”
I scrunched my nose and peered up at the gray sky. And it was what,
forty degrees?
Shudder.
“All right. Get in the truck. The little one can sit in the back.” Santiago
unlocked the truck and patted me on the head.
I was the little one!
He opened the door for me, and I jumped into the back seat, but before I
could put on the seat belt, Santiago was there to do it for me.
I tensed up, surprised by the whole thing.
“Let me know if I’m crossing a line.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek as I
heard the belt click into its place.
I sucked in a breath and managed to shake my head. At the same time, I
got a whiff of his cologne or aftershave, and the delicious scent gave me a
brain fog.
For those brief seconds, he was so close to me, and I couldn’t form a
coherent sentence. He put on my seat belt for me. Like I’d seen Colt and
Lucas do for Kit.
A drawn-out shiver rolled through me, and I blinked dazedly as
Santiago smiled and shut the door.
Since I’d joined House Mclean, I’d listed myself as a Middle because of
my core desire to explore a Daddy/boy dynamic. I’d never actually tried
anything like it; Caleb wasn’t kinky, and he’d been my first boyfriend. My
fantasies came from porn and reading online—and how that specific kind of
porn filled me with a sense of this is it. It clicked for me. But I didn’t truly
know. However, things like this, when Santiago behaved like a Daddy with
me… It evoked a response within me that was strong enough to move
mountains. I wanted so badly.
I wanted to throw myself at him and beg him to show me his kinky
universe.
 Kit seemed convinced that Santiago wanted to play with me, maybe
even start something, and considering Santiago himself had told me…I
should really get over myself and just scream yes.
I refused to let him slip through my fingers. He’d been so incredibly
kind to me, so protective and helpful, and I hadn’t been able to stop
thinking about him since he’d walked into Waffled. I wanted to know
everything about him. I wanted to make him smile and…do dirty things
with him.
I freaking had to make a move. Today. Maybe I could even get him to
spend the night with me. How wild was that?
The ride back to Georgetown was uneventful, but I learned some things
by listening to Santiago and Professor Aavik. They seemed to go back at
least a few years; they were clearly friends, and perhaps there was
something more between them as well. If I wasn’t mistaking their chuckles
and the flirty smirk on Santiago’s face, they might be interested in each
other.
Santiago asked what it was like to be home again, and Professor Aavik
said it felt good. He’d enjoyed the West Coast, but it wasn’t for him in the
long run. Also, he was “finally reconnecting with Walker,” which meant a
lot to him.
“Oh yeah, I remember your, uh…” Santiago chuckled. “Your games.”
“Christ. You and I truly met when I was at my worst,” Professor Aavik
responded. “I was way too honest with you.”
“That’s what happens when you get shitfaced.” Santiago was amused,
and he glanced my way in the rearview. “One of the first things you’ll
notice about Dean is that he’s secretive about pretty much everything. But if
you’re like me, you run into him when he’s had too much to drink, and he
gives you his biography in the dark corner of a British pub, and then you
have a friend for life.”
I grinned, half unsure, half entertained, and 100% wildly curious. “Are
you telling me to get my professor drunk, Sir?”
They both laughed.
“For the record, I’m not secretive,” Professor Aavik corrected, down to
chuckles. “I’m a tad private.”
“A tad private.” Santiago snorted. “Sure.”
“And not blind,” Professor Aavik added. “You have an agenda.”
What? An agenda?
 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santiago said. “But on that
note, do we need to swing by your place? Do you have everything you
need?”
I felt my forehead crease.
The professor sighed. “Yes, Joshua, I have everything I need for a visit
to a waffle house.”
“All right, good.” Santiago met my gaze in the rearview again, then
side-eyed Professor Aavik. “Since you’re not secretive about anything
anymore, maybe we don’t have to tiptoe around the topic and make Gael
feel left out?”
Since I was sitting right behind the professor, I didn’t see the look he
gave Santiago—but then he turned in his seat and glanced back at me with a
furrowed brow.
“It wasn’t my intention to make anyone feel left out,” he said.
“Considering the cat’s out of the bag… I’m diabetic—and I had an incident
at the house in Mclean the other week. That’s why Macklin is fussing.
Walker convinced me to wear a glucose monitor at all hours, and Macklin’s
evidently going to treat me like a child.” He faced forward again. “Never
mind that I’ve managed on my own perfectly since I was a teenager—one
miscalculation and I’m suddenly their in-house patient. It’s ridiculous.”
“They love you,” Santiago reasoned with him.
“Doesn’t mean I’m dying,” Professor Aavik argued. “I appreciate their
concern, but I fear they’re the kind who will order me some zero-sugar,
low-carb nonsense cake for my birthday. Diabetes doesn’t mean I can’t
have sugar—it means I have to be careful with it, and I am.”
I pinched my lips together, processing what he’d said. I remembered
Micki, a girl I’d grown up with. She had type 1 diabetes. I guessed that was
what Professor Aavik had too since he’d managed it from an early age.
Micki’s mom had come to our school once to tell us a little bit about her
daughter’s condition—and what we could do if Micki suddenly felt dizzy
or, worse, if she passed out.
That had never happened, thankfully, but I was glad I knew, even today.
I should read up more on it, to be safe. Firstly, because I didn’t want my
worries to bother Professor Aavik; I mean, we were heading to Waffled
right now, and that was certainly not going to be a healthy post-munch
snack. But he was a grown man, and he knew best what he could handle,
right?
 “Let me know if you want me to make any changes to your waffle,
Professor,” I offered as a compromise. “There’s actually no sugar in the
batter itself—it comes down to the toppings.” We added a dusting of sugar
and vanilla to the sweet waffles when they were done instead, leaving the
savory waffles unsweetened.
“That’s kind of you, dear, but I indulge so rarely that the only change
I’d want you to make is to go extra sugary.” He flashed me a disarming
smile in the sideview mirror that I sort of felt everywhere. Damn. “You can
also drop the Professor outside of campus. I’m Dean.” He paused. “Or Sir.”
Or Sir.
Yes, please.
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
Sir was what the other subs—those who knew him—called him around
the community, much like… I mean, it was simply the respectful dynamics
we had among friends in Mclean, and it felt like I was being included now.
I was going to make him the best freaking waffle in the world.

Oh crap.
The second I peered through the windows at Waffled, I knew we’d have
to come up with a new plan. The place was packed.
“Would you mind eating upstairs?” I asked.
“Of course not. I’d prefer it.” Santiago opened the door and smirked at
me.
I didn’t know what that smirk meant.
“Do you have another seating area up there?” Dean glanced up toward
the top of the house before ducking into the restaurant.
“No, Sir, that’s where I live.” I entered next and gestured for the
gentlemen to stand to the side rather than get in line. “If you let me know
what you want, I can take care of our order and get us out of here faster.”
“My kind of rock-star treatment.” Santiago put his arm around me and
eyed the menu screens.
“Good Christ, that’s a lot of options,” Professor Aavik noted. Dean.
Dean. Sir. “My mouth is watering at the mere smell. I don’t know what to
choose.”
 “I recommend the sampler,” Santiago said. “You get a little bit of
everything.”
Dean was sold, and once I’d given him a brief explanation about the
sweet versus savory, he requested most of them sweet and just a couple
savory. Santiago wanted the same fifty-fifty split as last time, and they gave
me free rein to decide the toppings.
Given the number of people crowding the counter, and those waiting for
their orders, I decided to give Santiago my keys. Thank goodness I’d tidied
up properly. The upside to sleeping poorly. I’d been vacuuming at three in
the morning.
“Just go upstairs—I’ll be there soon,” I said. “The code for the alarm
system is 7951, and press the OK button right after the code.”
“You got it. Let me know what we owe you for the food—”
“It’s on me,” I insisted.
“Nonsense,” Dean replied. “In fact, it’s on me.”
I suppressed an eye roll. “Fine. I’ll bring back the receipt.” For like a
dollar. I looked up at Santiago next. “Would you mind bringing up my
mail? I don’t want to drop the waffle containers later. There’s only one
mailbox, and it’s right when you enter.” I showed him the smallest key on
my key ring.
“No problem. See you soon.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head,
and they made their way out again.
A burst of excitement tore through me, and I hurried behind the counter
so I could get started. Des and Olivia were working today, and I made sure
not to get in the way.
It took me about five minutes to put together two extra-large samplers
that we could share, and I prepared a to-go box with coffee too. I didn’t
know what Dean preferred, so I made one black. I had milk upstairs, and I
doubted he wanted sugar.
By the time I was ready, I noticed Santiago was waiting for me outside.
Was something wrong with the alarm? Oh, maybe the top lock. It jammed
sometimes, and you had to jiggle the key a bit.
I stacked three Styrofoam containers, the to-go box with coffees, and a
bag of extra toppings in my arms and said goodbye to Des’s and Olivia’s
curious faces. Then I returned outside.
“Is something wrong, Sir?”
 “Not at all. I just didn’t want you to carry everything on your own.” He
evidently thought he should carry everything instead because he didn’t
leave me with anything, not even the bag with extra condiments. Instead, he
only gave back my keys. “You had a lot of mail, by the way. Do you not
check the mailbox every day?”
I snickered. “Uh, no, more like once a week.” I hurried next door and
unlocked it, then held it open for him.
“Thank you, little sir.”
I grinned. “You’re welcome, big Sir.”
Part of me couldn’t believe this was happening. And aside from a
handful of embarrassing moments on my account, things were running
fairly smoothly.
I followed him up the narrow stairs to my place, and I wrestled out of
my jacket, shoes, mittens, and beanie as fast as I could. Because while I had
cleaned the apartment well enough, I didn’t stow away the sheets and my
duvet every morning. Kit was the only one who’d ever visited. We’d sat on
my couch and painted 3-D figurines together, and I’d told a white lie that I
turned the couch into a bed every night. I mean, it was a big pullout; I’d just
never used it. What was the point when it was just me here?
Professor Aavik was inspecting my collection of books, so I made quick
work of yanking off my bedding and stuffing it in the corner between the
couch and the wall.
Whew.
I was a little out of breath now.
“Impressive library you have here, Gael.” Dean moved on to another
shelf and came face-to-face with General. “And you have a cat.”
“Yes, Sir. That’s General. He guards the place.”
Dean chuckled and reached out his hand, and General let him pet him.
“What a handsome boy.”
When Santiago set the containers on the coffee table, I took over.
“Please get comfortable, Sir. I’ll take care of this.” I brought out the
coffee and then fetched plates and proper mugs and utensils in the kitchen.
It wasn’t every day I had two gorgeous Doms in my home. I had to
show them I liked to do this—serve and be useful and caregiving.
When push came to shove, I was so ready to jump into playtime that I
didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d fantasized about a life in BDSM
for two years—well, I’d had some dreams far longer than that, but I hadn’t
stumbled across actual kink communities until later.
In short, when Dean left—hopefully after several hours of talking
history—I wanted Santiago to stay.
Obviously, Dean didn’t have to leave…but I knew he would. He struck
me as someone very professional, and I was going to keep my distance so
he didn’t see through me like Macklin had. Dean was first and foremost my
professor.
“Okay, let’s eat some waffles!” I declared.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 4

Dean Aavik

A fter washing my hands, I left the little bathroom and found Gael missing
from the living room. I didn’t see him in the kitchenette either.
“Where did the boy go?”
“Downstairs to get us more coffee.” Joshua stood by the window and
peered down on the cobblestone street. “I should’ve gone down there with
him.”
I sat down on the couch again and released a breath. I hadn’t been this
full in ages—but I hadn’t been able to stop eating until I’d tried everything.
Christ, those waffles had been amazing.
“Did you take your insulin?” he asked.
“Joshua.” I raised a brow at him. “Is there something you should tell
me?” He’d done a complete 180 since we’d arrived.
He’d been so flirty at Macklin’s restaurant that I’d half anticipated, half
dreaded a collision once we came here. I wasn’t sure I could resist Gael in
the heat of the moment, but I was doing my best.
“Don’t tell me I’m fussing too much,” Joshua huffed.
“You’re fussing too much,” I told him. “I took my insulin before we ate,
and Gael will be right back. What’s going on?”
He hadn’t spoken much while we’d eaten. Gael and I had dominated the
conversation with naval history; he’d asked a million questions, and I
hadn’t had the heart—or the desire—to slow him down.
Joshua sighed and dug something out from the back pocket of his jeans.
A folded envelope. “This was in his mailbox.”
 I furrowed my brow and accepted the letter. “You opened it?”
“Just read it.”
What on earth—why would he go through Gael’s mail?
I pulled out the piece of paper and unfolded it.
Do you miss me? I know you can’t stop thinking about me. I’m the
best thing that ever happened to you.
That was all. No signature, just plenty of red flags. Who would write
this garbage?
“There’s no stamp on the envelope,” Joshua said. “It was delivered to
the mailbox downstairs.”
I was at a loss. What the fuck was happening?
“Tell me what I’m missing,” I demanded. “Who’s this from?” I held up
the letter.
“Gael’s ex-boyfriend who’s stalked and harassed him for three years,”
he answered. “It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you all about it. But first, do you
have any plans for the night?”
I shook my head.
“Okay. I’ll go downstairs and propose a movie night at my place,” he
said, walking toward the entryway. “I want him out of here—and I don’t
want him alone for another second.”
“For chrissakes, is this a sick joke?” I rose from the couch.
“I wish it were, Dean.”

Half an hour later, my head was spinning to the point where I had a
headache. Gael had returned upstairs, adorably excited about a movie night
and sleepover at Joshua’s house, and while the boy had packed a bag and
prepared food for his cat, I’d received a two-minute briefing downstairs
from Joshua.
I was undoubtedly missing some details, but I knew the gist.
I ran a hand over my jaw and looked out the window as we crossed over
to Arlington. Talk about change of plans. Not that I would’ve preferred an
evening on my own, reading another book, watching another film,
preparing for another class…but this was a bit much. Joshua’s attachment
was clear as day, and I wasn’t sure that was wise, given the circumstances.
This…Caleb guy, who’d turned Gael’s life upside down—the sweet boy
had even felt forced to move across the country—belonged in prison.
I didn’t doubt Joshua’s capabilities for a second; he’d been a highly
skilled detective working in homicide when we’d met, and I was glad he
had retired because that field wore him down. I’d…kept track over the
years, often inquiring about him—we did have many friends in common—
but he didn’t have a police force behind him now. He was on his own. At
most, he could make the same citizen’s arrest the rest of us could.
I’d heard through the grapevine that he occasionally accepted work
from government agencies, and I was sure—as did many other private
investigators in DC—he’d accumulated a network of connections in private
security and the PMC field, all of which still lacked the support and
authority from an actual police department.
Goddammit, I just didn’t enjoy worrying about people I cared for, and
Joshua had essentially retired from one life-sucking career, only to dedicate
the next chapter of his life to taking more risks.
“Oh—Sir, could you please stop at the gas station over there?” Gael
asked. “I’d like to buy movie night snacks for us.”
I watched the boy in my sideview mirror, incredibly torn about the
whole thing.
“Of course, little one.” Joshua took the next exit and dug out his wallet.
Little one.
Yes, Joshua was certainly attached. Actually, I wasn’t sure I’d seen him
this way with a sub he barely knew. Despite the work he’d put in, observing
Gael and such, they hadn’t spent much time together. You couldn’t get to
know someone properly just by watching them interact online.
An annoying voice in the back of my mind wanted to call me out on my
bullshit, but that was my own attraction speaking. And therein lay the
difference. I was attracted. I was drawn to the boy I’d observed in class—
and online. I sure wasn’t walking around calling him little one and
sweetheart.
Once Joshua pulled into the gas station, and its 7-Eleven, he reached
back and handed Gael a couple bills. “Get something for all of us.”
“I can pay—”
“Don’t argue with me on this one, querido. You’ve paid enough.” He
was right about that one.
 “Okay. Thank you, Sir. I’ll be right back!” Gael jumped out and hurried
into the store.
I turned to Joshua.
He sighed. “All right, lemme have it.”
“You have to tell him,” I said. “I understand you want to protect him,
but you don’t have the right to hide something like this from him, Joshua.”
He clenched his jaw and looked out the windshield, and he rested an
arm across the wheel.
“Furthermore, I don’t think it’s wise you start something intimate with
him during this,” I added.
“I know that much,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna instigate anything
else. But I don’t want him to feel rejected either.”
“He won’t feel rejected if you sit him down and tell him exactly what’s
going on,” I replied. “Just tell him you’re very much interested, but that
kink and dates can wait till his piece-of-shit ex-boyfriend is back on the
West Coast.”
I was all for Joshua securing evidence that Caleb was violating the
restraining order—after which the rotten son of a bitch could be detained
and taken back to the Bay Area. What I didn’t feel like witnessing was
Joshua getting too attached to Gael all while he was trying to play
superhero. It reeked of disaster in the making.
Joshua side-eyed me. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.”
“I don’t know that you actually are.”
He snorted softly and scrubbed a hand over his face.
I felt for him in that moment. He seemed…out of sorts.
“What is it with this boy?” I reached over and gave his neck a gentle
squeeze. “Trust me when I say I see the appeal—he’s…incredibly sweet
and beautiful—but this is unlike you.”
The Joshua I knew was… I didn’t want to use the word aloof, because
he always had his heart on display. At the same time, he could be a tough
nut to crack. He’d shared several kink dynamics with Littles and subs in
which he’d been caring and loving without growing particularly attached to
them. It’d been the same thing for both of us. Hell, it was why we’d used
each other as a wailing wall so many times. There’d always been something
missing in our partners, and after a few drinks, our late-night conversations
had shifted. To the idea that, perhaps, we were the ones who lacked
something.
 “I don’t know what it is.” He shook his head and leaned back in his seat
with another sigh, and I withdrew my hand. “I can’t explain it.” He tilted
his head my way, visibly tired. “I reckon I was seeing the possibilities
before I even met him properly, and then… I don’t know. We stood outside
his work—I was telling him about Caleb, and he kept shivering from the
cold, and I just—it tugged at something in me. I wanted to march him up
the stairs and bury him in blankets.”
I smiled faintly.
I’ll be damned.
“You remind me of when Walker met Macklin,” I murmured. “He
couldn’t describe it either.”
He chuckled under his breath and reached out, resting his hand on my
leg. “I take it I can’t convince you to join us for playtime?”
Then there was that. Joshua had always gravitated toward group
dynamics, triads and foursomes.
“I don’t think I’m delusional when I say he’s interested in both of us,”
he said.
I’d only noticed Gael’s interest in Santiago.
“In other words, you weren’t listening to me at all earlier,” I responded
dryly.
He grinned. “I mean later. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I’ll tell him about
the letter.”
Tomorrow and not tonight?
“Why are you stalling?” I had to know.
“Because I selfishly want one fucking night, okay? Us three, at my
house—I wanna cook. He can choose the movie. We can talk and listen to
music. I don’t know.”
Joshua was just as adorable as Gael, only in his own way.
“If we agree not to start anything tonight,” I said. “I would like to hold
off till the end of the semester before I consider playing with Gael. What
you two do in the meantime is your business.”
I assumed they would start a relationship. They could invite me as a
play partner when Gael was no longer my student. I’d be happy to go to
town on both of them. I’d been drawn to Joshua for as long as I’d known
him, and Gael ticked too many boxes for me to count. And by admitting
that, I was already backing down on my statement about me being too old
for him. Which was still true, but if the boy wanted to play with me, I
wasn’t going to be able to resist. I could only imagine how
mouthwateringly sexy he was naked, all little and soft and needy and…
fuck.
“I agree not to start anything tonight,” Joshua said with a firm nod.
“And the rest?”
“I don’t agree to that. I thought an esteemed professor like you could
draw your own conclusions without my spelling shit out.”
I gave him the same look I offered to students when they brought
terrible excuses instead of papers.

“You still crossed a line, pet,” I told Macklin. A harsh wind swept through
the porch, and I zipped up my jacket some more. “What happened out in
Mclean—I understand I worried you, and I’m very sorry, but it’s not a
common occurrence. You’ve certainly never seen it before. I promise I’m
careful. All right?”
Sometimes, the worst part about having diabetes was managing other
people’s expectations, concerns, and fears. It had been the first time my
glucose levels had dropped so far in years—and it’d been a damn fluke. A
perfect storm of stress, missing my brother after we’d had a fight, and
forgetting to eat. The aftermath was ten times more severe than the actual
incident.
Macklin huffed on the other end. “Fine. I’ll lift the ban, I guess.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” I drawled. “Can you put Walker on,
please?”
“All right. Later, Sir.”
“Bye, troublemaker.” I glanced through the kitchen window as Gael
joined Joshua there, having just changed into pajamas.
Joshua had promised not to take things further, yet the first thing he’d
done when we’d arrived at his house was to encourage Gael to “put on PJs.”
If that didn’t scream Daddy behavior, I didn’t know what did.
The boy was awfully precious in those pajamas, though. And I wasn’t
even a Daddy Dom. I could shoulder the role for playtime, and I did enjoy
the extra nurturing aspects, though that wasn’t only reserved for Daddies.
 I missed having someone to take care of. Someone to both push hard
and spoil rotten.
I’d had a brief relationship in San Francisco I’d initially thought would
lead somewhere… Alas. It was extremely hard for me to form close
connections outside family.
“Hey, you.” Speak of the devil…
Walker’s voice always worked. I was fairly close to all my foster
brothers—so was Walker—but the two of us had something extra as the two
eldest. He was equal parts my best support, a friend to lean on, and my six-
years-younger, antagonizing kid brother.
“Hey, hothead,” I replied. “Did you give that boy of yours the green
light to pull his stunt at the restaurant?”
He chuckled. “Nope, but I knew he was gonna do it. I told him he’d
suffer your consequences.”
I smirked to myself. “You threatened him with a good time?”
“Well…”
Fuck. We had to get together soon, the three of us.
Then I lifted my gaze and peered into Joshua’s kitchen again, and I
couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have us all together for a
group-play scene at the house in Mclean.
“Where are you?” Walker asked. “It sounds like you’re standin’ in the
middle of a field during a storm.”
Close enough. Joshua didn’t have many neighbors nearby, and fields
were exactly what we were surrounded by.
“I’m actually at Joshua’s house,” I admitted.
“Who?”
I suppressed a sigh. “Santiago.”
“Oh yeah? Macklin was wonderin’ if y’all were gonna get together,” my
brother answered through a yawn. “Maybe you actually try to get close to
someone this time.”
It wasn’t a matter of trying. I’d always tried.
I watched Joshua and Gael laugh at something; Gael was trying to chop
carrots as quickly as Joshua was chopping bell peppers.
I smiled.
“You wanna do lunch tomorrow?” Walker wondered. “Macklin’s
ditching me to put together a wine tasting for a friend.”
“I’ll let you know when I get up tomorrow,” I said.
 Walker laughed lazily. “You do that. Tell Santiago I said hello.”
“Will do.” I’d gotten the answers I wanted. Walker hadn’t precisely
green-lit Macklin’s operation; instead, he’d given me permission to punish
his husband as I saw fit. And I was thinking it’d been a while since I’d
exercised my favorite paddle. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said, just as the
vision of my paddle meeting Gael’s round little ass smacked me in the face.
Fucking hell.
He was my student.
I pocketed my phone and headed back inside to a house that needed
some work. I happened to know Joshua had moved several months ago, so
why he still had moving boxes littered about was beyond me. The furniture
seemed to be in place. It was the rest that was missing. No personal
belongings like pictures or books or art.
I shrugged out of my jacket and stepped out of my shoes, then veered
left into the kitchen.
Joshua had put on music, and Gael was bobbing his head to the beat of
something that sounded like Santana.
The kitchen was, as far as I could see, the only room in the house that
had Joshua’s personality painted on the walls. At least, he was getting there.
A few paintings were stacked on the kitchen table, the island had several
clay pots in rich colors that were filled with whisks, ladles, and spatulas,
and it was clear he’d let his mother pick the tiles for the backsplash. They
ranged from blues to turquoises and blended in with the rustic green
cupboards.
At the risk of fetishizing an entire continent, Joshua was indescribably
sexy when he brought out the side of him he’d inherited from his mother.
When he spoke Spanish, when he talked about cooking, when he described
the importance of family and how he liked to unite his loved ones around a
dinner table… That was the Joshua I’d gotten hooked on. The side he sadly
only revealed after a few drinks. But maybe that was changing.
“Okay, I’m done!” Gael declared. “Is this okay, Sir?”
Joshua joined him and inspected the chopped carrots, and he pressed a
kiss to the boy’s hair. “They’re perfect. Kinda like you.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
If this was Joshua standing down, I didn’t want to experience him at full
steam ahead.
 Gael snickered and blushed, shaking his head. “I’m far from perfect.
You, on the other hand…”
I cleared my throat to alert them to my approach—and to break up the
foreplay. “Third wheel reporting for kitchen duty. What can I do to help?”
Gael gasped. “You’re not a third wheel, Sir! Unless you mean on a car
because they are essential.”
Joshua and I chuckled.
The boy was coming out of his shell, wasn’t he? It wasn’t until now that
I noticed his dark blue pajamas were covered in little books falling from a
night sky.
While I sat down on a stool across from them, Gael started tossing
handfuls of chopped carrots into a big pot on the island, and Joshua added
spices—curry, turmeric, and black pepper.
“What are you making?” I wondered. The island top had plenty of
ingredients, from ginger and lemon to white cabbage and broccoli, all fresh
and flawless, making me think he shopped at farmers markets rather than a
grocery store.
“My comfort soup.” He sent me a quick grin before measuring a
teaspoon of chili powder. “Did you work things out with Macklin?”
“It’s in the making, I guess you could say,” I answered. “Walker said I
was free to punish the boy.”
“Nice. He’s fun to play with.”
He was certainly something.
Gael scrunched his nose. “Has everyone in Mclean played with
Macklin?”
I rumbled a laugh.
Joshua was just as amused. “Probably even more outside the
community.”
No doubt.
“Macklin and Walker recently ended a four-year break from each other
because they were fools,” I explained. “Walker buried himself in work and
a few subs, and Macklin searched all over DC for someone who could
never measure up.”
I’d watched their marriage fall apart from afar, and it’d been a horrible
experience, especially when they’d refused to listen. But thankfully, it was
over now. They were back together, where they belonged, as my next-door
neighbors who were happily in love.
 “Macklin was my first crush when I joined,” Gael confessed, nibbling
on a piece of carrot. “When I heard about the orgies he used to host, it was
like a whole new universe opening up to me.”
I grinned faintly. “Is that something you’re interested in?”
He flushed. “Yeah.”
Joshua was observing him and trying to be subtle about it. “What else
are you interested in?”
Gael’s general discomfort and awkwardness returned slowly, causing
him to fidget and bite his nails, and he struggled to fix his gaze somewhere.
“What most people want, I guess.” He shrugged slightly and busied
himself by wiping down his cutting board. “I’d like to meet someone who
doesn’t try to change me by being a bully.”
Hell. That one came straight from his past. In a quick second, he looked
up and met my gaze, and his pale blue eyes were filled with so much
trepidation that it felt like a kick to my stomach. That piece-of-shit ex had
done this to him. Seeing all his insecurities and fears brought forth a razor-
sharp bolt of rage within me, and in that very moment, I understood why
Joshua was so invested.
Joshua picked up his phone and turned off the music, then closed the
distance between himself and Gael and cupped the boy’s face in his hands.
“He’s never going to hurt you again—you hear me? And I know at least
one man who’d love to remind you however many times it takes that you’re
so fucking special.”
It suddenly felt like I was intruding on their slow dance of getting closer
to each other, and I averted my gaze. A heavy unease settled in my gut, and
it wasn’t the first time. It happened whenever I watched someone close to
me finally find their way.
“I do feel better these days, I promise,” Gael mumbled. “I just struggle
with—like, being unsure if I’m welcome and stuff. If I’m enough the way I
am.”
“The way you are?” Joshua murmured. “You mean smart, funny,
handsome, adorable as fuck, and sweeter than sugar?”
But despite the envy that tightened its fist around my chest, it was
impossible not to smile to myself. Joshua and Gael deserved all the
happiness, and I was sure they’d be good together.
Christ, I shouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for me, they’d be making out on
the couch by now.
 Gael let out a nervous snickering sound, and I’d had it. I truly was the
third wheel here, so it was time for me to call a cab.
I cleared my throat and slid off the stool—
“You can sit right back down, Dean.”
My stare snapped to Joshua, only he was still watching Gael.
“Here’s the thing, pet.” He spoke to Gael now too, and he withdrew his
hands. “Dean’s about to do something stupid, so I have no choice but to say
this now. I want the three of us to have fun together—”
“Joshua,” I warned, getting heated in an instant. “This isn’t the time.”
“Don’t fucking Joshua me,” he told me, then turned back to a visibly
bewildered Gael. “Is this something you’re interested in?”
“Y-yes, very much, but he’s protesting.” Gael pointed to me. “Maybe
we should hear him out? I don’t want to m-make anyone uncomfortable.”
“It’s not about discomfort,” I had to say. “Or interest, for that matter. It’s
my position as your professor. I won’t get involved in anything while
you’re in my class. It’s not right, dear. I hope you understand.”
He flicked a glance my way and bit at his lip. He was so clearly out of
his comfort zone that I felt bad for him.
“I do, and I happen to agree,” he said quietly. “When Macklin suggested
the class, I never thought in a million years that…you know.”
That, what? I’d be interested?
I furrowed my brow, wondering just how low his self-esteem was.
“Well, you were wrong—and Macklin’s suggestion was crazy from the
start.” If Macklin wanted Gael and me together in some way, he should’ve
introduced us at an event. This wasn’t some fantasy; it was my career and
my work ethic. Exploring kink with Gael would put us both in a vulnerable
position where so much could go wrong. I faced Joshua, determined. “I’m
going home.” Where I could hate my goddamn morals. “You two should
enjoy your evening and start things at your own pace. Perhaps you have
something to discuss first.” I gave him a pointed look. “Then we can revisit
playtime when the semester is over. In the meantime, we’ll see each other in
Mclean and at munches.”
Joshua wasn’t happy, and neither was I, but this was how it was going to
be.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 5

Santiago Jones

I tmyfeltapproach
entirely wrong to say goodbye to Dean, but I’d tried my best, and
had been anything but smooth. I’d forced the discussion too
soon for the sake of making Dean stay. Because I wanted him here. Because
I wanted to take care of him too. He thought he could hide his loneliness…?
Unfortunately, the bastard was right. It was time to take a step back and
do things the right way. I had to talk to Gael, tell him about the letter, and—
“Sir?”
I stopped before I reached the kitchen island and turned around.
“I have to do this before I chicken out,” Gael said. He was the picture of
determination at war with frazzled nerves as he walked over to me, and
there was no time to sort out my confusion before everything cleared up.
The distance between us disappeared, and a wave of hunger washed over
me when he fisted my shirt and pulled me down to him.
I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him firmly. A slow shudder
swept heat through me, and he fused himself to my body.
God-fucking-damn.
At the first taste of his sweet tongue against mine, our “talk” was
promptly scheduled for later. He tried to lock his arms around my neck, so I
lowered my hands and spun him around, then backed him up against the
island. Fucking hell, he felt perfect in my arms.
We deepened the kiss at the same time, and I couldn’t help it. I slipped
my hands down to his cute butt and squeezed the cheeks, earning myself a
needy little moan from him. His body drove me fucking crazy—he was the
perfect blend of small and soft and sexy as sin. His big blue eyes… How
could anyone resist a puppy-dog look from him? His kisses were full of
desperation; it felt like he wanted everything at once, and it flooded me
with satisfaction and desire. I slowed us down a bit, just so I could pick him
up and position him on the island, and I stepped between his legs and
loosened his hold on me. I wanted my hands back on his neck, his jaw, his
cheeks.
With a steadying breath, I kissed his perfect lips a few times and
savored the moment. Savored the happiness, the relief, the hope. This was a
terrific start. I wanted so much more, and now I didn’t have to worry about
mistaking the hints he’d sent my way all day.
“Beautiful boy.” I combed my fingers through his dark blond hair and
pressed my lips to his cheeks.
He ducked his face and buried it against my neck. “I’ve wanted to do
that all day.”
I squeezed him to me. “Me too.”
He shivered and glanced up at me a beat later. “So, um…” He dropped
his gaze to my shirt and fidgeted with the top button. “You’re a Daddy
Dom.”
I grinned. “I am.”
He nodded, cheeks flushed.
Fucking adorable.
I hooked a finger under his chin and snuck in for a quick kiss. “You
wanna explore a dynamic like that with me?”
He nodded again—and kept avoiding my gaze. “Very much, Sir.”
We’d work on that shyness.
“Look me in the eye, sweet boy.” I planted my hands on the counter and
waited till he glanced up. Even now, he was all worries and nervousness. “If
you knew how much I wanted you, you wouldn’t be so afraid,” I murmured.
“But I assume this is what Caleb did to you. He made you feel like shit. He
pushed you down.”
“Yes, Sir.” He cleared his throat and struggled to maintain eye contact.
“I have, um, body issues, I guess. Like…I don’t know. I guess I was lucky
growing up, because it wasn’t until I met him that I started feeling bad.”
I felt for him. Too many people today were insecure about their
appearance. Nobody was perfect in that objective sense, but everyone sure
liked to pretend. We put pressure on ourselves and on others.
 “Were you ever bullied in school?” I wondered.
He shook his head. “Not really. I mean, I knew I was chubby and that
most guys wanted someone fit, but I had good friends and went through a
couple firsts that made me feel like anybody else. My first kiss was with my
best friend at the time, and he was kind of like me.” He made a face. “Then
he moved to freaking Seattle, and we lost touch.”
I touched his cheek briefly. “You already know what I think about you.
The question is what you think. Genuinely—not with Caleb’s abuse rattling
around in your head.”
He scraped his teeth against his bottom lip and looked over at the
window—or the kitchen table. That direction.
“I think I’m like my dad,” he said thoughtfully. “When I first broke up
with Caleb, I told my dad everything. What Caleb had done to me—how
he’d tried to shame me into losing weight and stuff like that. And it led to a
long conversation about lifestyle choices.”
I tilted my head, listening, and trying my damnedest to push back my
anger toward that fucking scum he called an ex.
“My dad doesn’t think about how he looks,” he went on. “He thinks
about what he’s doing—and his body reflects that. His body is the result,
and he’s fine with that. Like, we love to walk and do stuff like everyone
else, but we prefer strolling over power walking. We hate stress. We see
what it’s doing to Mom—she’s always working and sleeping restlessly. She
can’t power down. She can’t sit down and read a good book. She has to do
twenty things at the same time.”
I was familiar with that kind of stress. It sucked the life out of you.
“He gets stern with her sometimes.” He smiled a little to himself.
“When she’s been stressing out too much, she gets forgetful and leaves her
car keys in the fridge and the frying pan in the bathroom.”
I chuckled quietly.
“I think that’s why they work so great together—and why they’re still
happy together after so many years. He slows her down when she really
needs it, and she fine-tunes what Dad does around the house. Like, he
cleans most of the time, and she adds the final touches with flowers and
drapes and decorations.”
Sounded a lot like my own folks, only my mother did the cooking and
cleaning. My old man brought home the flowers. Well, they were retired
now, so he picked them from the garden, and he spent most of his days
tinkering around in the garage.
Gael glanced back at me. “Physical appearance wasn’t a thing at home
when I grew up. My mom would come home from work, hug me tightly,
and ask if I was happy. When Dad came home from work, he’d ask if I’d
done anything fun. Focus was never on fashion or trends or…whatever. Or
maybe I just never cared.” He shrugged. “The important thing was
happiness, and that comes from within—you know?”
I smiled, loving every word that came out of his mouth.
“So what would make you happy? Describe a perfect Saturday that
leaves a big smile on your face.”
He chuckled softly and thought about it. “It can be a million different
things. Like go to a history museum? Spend a whole day there? And, um…I
don’t know. Sometimes, I just wanna stay on the couch and read all day.” A
bit of a blush bled through on his cheeks. “Preferably with my Daddy next
to me.”
Fuck me.
He was too quick to move on, so I couldn’t throw myself into that trap.
“To get a little serious—as long as I can do all the things I want to do, I
don’t care how I look. I used to think I was cute because I was always so
happy. I loved to make people smile and stuff like that.”
Jesus Christ, he was a breath of fresh air.
“I mean, I have some limits,” he said. “Those are my preferences. I
want to keep certain health risks in check, partly because we have high
blood pressure in my family—but if my parents have taught me anything,
it’s that health can look several different ways. My mom’s blood pressure is
higher than Dad’s. Which he loves to remind her of when she’s running
around with a million projects.”
I had to kiss him. I kept it brief, but I just had to. I loved hearing his
unfiltered thoughts.
“You’re wonderful, Gael.” I gave him one more smooch. “I hope that
happiness you felt when you were younger comes back. You deserve every
ounce of it.”
He went back to fiddling with a button on my shirt, this time the second
one because he’d undone the top. “I wanna make you happy too, Sir.”
“You started doing that the day I met you.” I rubbed my hands up and
down his thighs in unhurried strokes. “I really liked what you said about
inner happiness too. It’s a good focus, whether you’re a kid or an adult. The
rest is secondary.”
He nodded. “It’s kinda nuts that the secondary gets all the attention.”
Because it was the exterior. The first thing people saw.
I’d gotten my own taste of bullying as a kid, though it had faded after a
couple years.
“I was actually teased a lot in high school,” I mentioned.
The surprised look on Gael’s face was almost comical. “You? But you’re
so stinking hot, Sir. I mean, objectively.”
I chuckled. Too cute.
“I started going gray when I was seventeen,” I admitted with a smirk.
“Senior year, the whole football team called me Gramps.”
He made a noise. “People can be such dicks.” Then he reached up
tentatively and swept his fingers through my hair. “I like the gray. It’s so
sexy.”
Hopefully, that meant I could be honest too.
I leaned in and kissed him slowly, and I cupped his cheek with one hand
and slipped my other hand up his stomach. “You know what I like?”
He sucked in a breath and shook his head.
“All of this.” I nipped at his bottom lip and brushed my thumb over his
cheek. “It may be secondary, but it drives me crazy. Every bit of you that’s a
little softer and rounder makes me wanna tie you to my bed.”
He clutched my shirt and tried to pull me closer. “C-can we do that,
please? I’m super ready.”
I grinned faintly and flicked the tip of my tongue against his lips. “You
want Daddy to fuck you?”
“Oh God—yes,” he breathed.
I hummed and grabbed his jaw, then kissed him hard as lust and
possessiveness raged through me. It would be so goddamn easy to take him
upstairs, strip off his pajamas, and fuck him stupid. Every part of me
screamed for it. To finally see all of him, to feel his mouth on my cock, to
see if he became shyer in bed or if a needy little slut boy emerged.
I could work with both.
If only I didn’t hear Dean’s pointed throat-clearing in my head…
Gael whimpered into the kiss and clung to me. “Can I call you that now,
Sir? Can I call you Daddy?”
 I shuddered and pushed my tongue against his, then forced myself to
break the kiss. “Absolutely. But—that title comes with a responsibility.”
Deep breaths. But my fucking God, he was irresistible. “We have to set
some ground rules before we think about taking our clothes off.”
And I have to tell you about the fucking letter.
Damn you, Dean.
“Rules, schmules,” Gael whined. “I want you so much.”
Adorable. Maddeningly addictive. Gael was something else.
No matter how badly I wanted to postpone this step, I couldn’t. I’d just
feel like an asshole afterward.
I took a calming breath and eased back, only to look down and notice
he’d unbuttoned most of the buttons on my denim shirt. It made me
chuckle, and he flushed when I looked at him.
“Oops?” He grinned sheepishly.
I shook my head in amusement and buttoned up again. “We’ll get to the
fun part soon, I promise.” I patted the stool for him. “You can have a seat
while I prepare the soup, and we’ll talk.”
The Little in him came out in full force with a long-suffering sigh and a
playful scowl.
It made my heart happy. When Littles and Middles lost their filters, all
was well in the world.
I returned to the other side of the island and sorted through my thoughts.
The soup was going to simmer for a couple hours, so I only needed to get
the ball rolling. The spices, the broth, the vegetables that took time to soften
—all in the pot.
“I reckon the first thing we need to discuss are boundaries.” I ran a hand
through my hair, then washed my hands so I could continue chopping
vegetables. “I’m a big fan of group play and relationships with more than
two men, but I’m monogamous in the way that I don’t enjoy play with
others unless my partners are present, and I want our relationship closed.”
Considering Gael had listed four group-play-related kinks in his fetish
list, I wasn’t worried that my preferences would rock anyone’s foundation,
but nevertheless… For all the openness I enjoyed, I wanted several rules to
erect a fence around that freedom.
“There’s a big difference between playtime and dating to me too,” Gael
said. “And what you said, I wouldn’t want to play with others without my
partner present. Which…” He exhaled a laugh and shook his head. “It’s
bizarre to talk about this. I’m so new in kink—I’ve never reached the pre-
play negotiation part.”
I smiled and threw a dish towel over my shoulder. “We’ll get through it
together—and we’ll negotiate and renegotiate whenever someone needs it.”
He would need it far more than I would. When I’d been new in kink, I’d
barely known left from right. One second, I’d been convinced I was
monogamous and madly in love with whoever I was dating, and the next…
Hell, at this point, I wasn’t sure it’d ever been true love. Either way, I’d
dabbled in most kinds of relationships, from strict monogamy to open poly-
houses.
“May I ask—do you like Dean, Sir?”
I looked at him, only half surprised he’d asked. But I supposed my
attachment to Dean wasn’t invisible.
“He’s been in the back of my mind for as long as I’ve known him.” I
turned on the water in the island sink and began breaking apart the broccoli.
“I do like him—a lot—but we’ve never acted on the what-if between us.
We’ve never been single at the same time—or I’ve been working too much,
and then he moved across the country to teach at Stanford.” I paused. “I
kissed him today, though. When I was waiting for you to come back from
the bathroom.”
Gael’s cute smirk put me at ease. “Okay. Then I don’t have to feel crazy
for wanting to see you two together.”
Well, hey.
“I want all of us together,” I replied and raised a brow. “How’s that for a
goal?”
“Definitely crazy,” he snickered. “All this is. I’m still processing.”
He seemed to be doing fine to me. He was more relaxed, didn’t stammer
as much…
Then he hesitated a little. “But you mean you want to date him too—
and me?”
The last thing I wanted was to confuse Gael or, even worse, make him
insecure about where he had me, so I spelled it out much like I had earlier
today.
“I’mma shoot for the stars with both of you,” I admitted. “I want the
three of us to date one another as a triad. No him and me, and you and me—
all three of us.”
 He nodded slowly and found my stack of grocery ads to fidget with. He
rolled the corner of a coupon. “As dreamy as that sounds, Dean and I don’t
know each other. I don’t know what he wants, what he’s into—”
“That’s why you date, querido. I don’t have a success-rate guarantee.
I’m only saying I would love for us to give it a go.” I didn’t want him to
feel any pressure. “But this is after your class ends,” I reminded him. “I
may be impatient to get things started, but I have all the patience in the
world for every step that comes after.”
He smiled impishly. “I kind of like the impatience. It makes me feel like
you don’t want to wait.”
I smiled back. That was exactly how it was too. I didn’t wanna wait.
After dumping the broccoli into the pot, I rinsed my fingers and moved
on to the cabbage.
“You used the word dreamy,” I noted. “Do you like the idea of a triad?”
The slow blush that crept forward—and how he squirmed in his seat—
at least told me he enjoyed the thought of threesomes. My kind of boy.
“Yeah… I really like what Kit has with Colt and Lucas.”
They were a great example of what I wanted too, even more so since I’d
heard they were exploring a closed playtime dynamic with Greer and his
partners. That was my brand of boundaries, which I did my best to explain
to Gael. Viewing kinksters as a free-for-all buffet of playtime was
something I’d liked in the past when I hadn’t been interested in more
meaningful relationships.
What I believed would make me happy today was a triad much like the
one Colt had with Kit and Luke, and then we’d have a few play partners we
all agreed to have extra fun with from time to time. Together.
“I’ve had one or the other in the past, but never combined,” I continued.
“That’s just me, though. You gotta be flexible as it is with a single partner,
make sure as many needs as possible are met, and then you add another
man…?” I grinned as he chuckled. “In the end, it boils down to chemistry.
Time will tell what the best dynamic will look like—what fits us best.
Neither of us can know precisely what we want beforehand. But I can tell
you one thing right now…” I lifted a brow and pointed my knife at him, and
he cracked up—exactly the reaction I wanted. He wasn’t that much of a
scaredy-cat.
“I like it when you’re being silly,” he laughed. “Okay, I’m listening—
what were you gonna say?”
 I smiled and lowered the knife again. “Just that I don’t want us to be
casual. I would like to go all in from the beginning with both kink and
dating, and then we’ll work things out together as they come. How does that
sound?”
He grinned and rested his chin in his hand. “Will you believe me if I say
all that sounds perfect to me?”
“Every little thing I said?” I asked to make sure.
“I mean…” He sat up straighter, thinking about his response. “Yeah.
Because I can’t think of a better way to explore dirty group play than with
someone I belong to. And the last part is the most important to me.
Playtime and events will come and go. The one—or two—I share my life
with will hopefully put up with me for longer.”
Put up with him.
“I’ll do my best to put up with you,” I drawled. “For the record, that
kind of talk will get you punished in the future. I’ll be patient because of
your past—that goes without saying—but we’ll be working together to dig
your self-esteem out from the ground.”
We were also going to talk endlessly about limits and appropriate
approaches to infractions, though that could come later. I wanted to ease
into things. I couldn’t get to know him properly if we had lists of protocol
encasing his behavior.
“I’ll do my best, I promise.” He didn’t look too certain anymore,
though.
“Remember what I said about patience earlier, sweetheart,” I murmured.
“I have my beginning now. Now we can take it easy and do what feels
natural. My number one priority is to earn your complete trust and to see
you relax and be the boy you wanna be.”
That seemed to put him at ease, but it was a reminder to me—and one I
needed. His trauma had conditioned him to be quiet and not to step on any
toes. The result could be him agreeing to things he wasn’t ready for, so we
both had to be mindful.

When the pot was on the stove, set to low heat, I figured it was time to rip
off the Band-Aid. Armed with coffee and lemonade, I ushered Gael into the
living room so we could talk about Caleb.
I also made a mental note to pick up Little-friendly snacks. I’d glimpsed
juice boxes, milk, and Sprite Zero in Gael’s fridge earlier today, and I only
had the milk. And the lemonade that expired in two days. Giving up TV
dinners and filling my fridge with fresh foods was only the beginning of my
plan to step it up.
“Can I ask something?” Gael asked.
“Always.” I sat down on the couch and left our beverages on the coffee
table.
“Does Dean play with Walker too?”
I chuckled under my breath. “I’m not surprised you’re curious. Not
many know this, so it’s Dean’s story to share, but you can say they have a
past that dates back from before Walker and Macklin met.” I wasn’t one to
judge either way, but considering Dean and Walker weren’t actually related,
I didn’t see the taboo factor that some might. “I think whatever is happening
between the three of them now, Macklin included, is very new.”
“I see! I hope I get to see them one day,” he admitted with a sheepish
grin. Always with the sheepishness. It was cute as fuck. Then he yawned
and sat a little closer to me, and he took a big gulp of his lemonade.
“You tired, little one?” I combed my fingers through his hair.
“Yeah.” He let out a breath and set down his glass before leaning back
and getting comfortable. “I woke up at three this morning, so I started
cleaning.”
I furrowed my brow. “That’s not good. You need your sleep.”
He shrugged and leaned against me. “It’s all this Caleb crap. I get
restless when I don’t know where he is.”
Of-fucking-course. I should’ve seen this coming. A few days ago, I
couldn’t have told him to call me if he couldn’t sleep on his own, but I sure
could now.
“I have to tell you something about him,” I said reluctantly.
Just like that, Gael sat straighter and stared at me with fear clouding his
eyes. “Have you seen him? Is he here? He’s here, isn’t he?”
I grabbed his hand in both of mine and shifted in my seat to face him
better. “First of all, you’re safe. You hear me? I won’t let anything happen
to you.”
“He’s here,” he whispered.
 I suppressed a sigh and inclined my head. “When I brought in your mail
today, I saw an envelope without a stamp on it. It made me suspicious, so I
opened it.”
“Oh God.” He withdrew from me and palmed his face.
Goddammit, I didn’t want him to be scared. He had nothing to worry
about. I’d fucking see to it.
“He asked if I missed him, didn’t he?” he groaned into his hands.
“That’s what he does. And he reminds me that he was the best thing that
could ever happen to me.”
In other words, no need to show him the letter.
“Fuck—I have to call the police again,” he said abruptly.
I grabbed on to his arm before he could get up from the couch, and he
frowned at me, almost as if he’d forgotten I was there. But he wasn’t alone
this time. I wanted to help him.
“What happened the other times you called the police?” I already knew,
of course.
He huffed. “They slap him with a misdemeanor. He pays a fine, and
that’s that.”
I nodded. “Despite that he’s a repeat offender by now.”
If there was one thing I knew, it was the law. Our legal system. How
things could look great on paper and not work for shit when every big-city
county was buried in cases. If the judge had deemed Caleb a non-threat for
never having physically abused Gael, chances were they’d take the easy
way out every time Caleb violated the restraining order. A fine here, thirty
days in county jail there. It was bullshit, a slap on the wrist.
“What choice do I have?” Gael asked, exasperated.
“You can leave this to me, sweetheart,” I implored. “If I have to fly out
to California and deliver the evidence in person, so be it—but they won’t be
able to ignore this when I’m done.”
He knitted his brows together, wary and uncertain. “What are you going
to do? What evidence?”
“For one, the letter.” I’d left it in a Ziploc bag when I’d come home. It
was in the kitchen. “We gotta think bigger. Every time Caleb harasses you
online or calls you, it falls under the same penal code—even when it
shouldn’t—because there’s always bigger fish to fry. But delivering a
letter…?” Which, even as I said it, didn’t necessarily mean much. It would
take resources to prove it came from Caleb, resources the authorities didn’t
allocate without some convincing. “It’s a start, at least. I want to rack up the
offenses. Get him for stalking, definitely contempt, and maybe—”
“Contempt?”
“Contempt of court—he’s going against a court of law,” I explained.
“I’m actually surprised they haven’t charged him with that yet.”
He chewed on the corner of his mouth. “Online harassment isn’t exactly
a priority.”
True.
“You really know all this, don’t you?” It looked like he was seeing me
with a new pair of eyes.
I smiled faintly. “It’s a long way from working in homicide, but I didn’t
start there. I can ramble PCs in my sleep.”
“Oh! I know one—I saw it on a show. Did you get a lot of 148? That’s a
code, right?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, partly in relief because he was evidently
easily distracted. “It’s difficult to resist arrest when you’re dead.” I tapped
his nose.
“Oh, right.” He let out a strained laugh and settled down again.
The reality returned to him, and so did the worry and the sadness.
“I hate him so much. I just want him out of my life for good.”
“I know you do, little one.” I gave his leg a squeeze. “Will you let me
take over?”
He brushed his fingers over my hand. “What’re you gonna do?”
“Find him. Make sure enough offenses stick that he’ll spend the next
few years in prison.”
Hopefully more than a few, too.
“As long as you don’t get hurt,” he said decisively. Then he crawled up
on my lap, and nobody was happier about that than me. “You’re not allowed
to get hurt.”
“He won’t hurt me.” I pulled him closer to me and cupped his cheek.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the letter sooner. I just hate seeing you
troubled.”
He scrunched his nose and rubbed it against mine. “It happened a few
hours ago. It wasn’t like you hid it for weeks.”
Well. I was glad he saw it that way.
I kissed him quickly and squeezed him to me, feeling way too much
tension in him. And he yawned against my neck, reminding me he hadn’t
slept enough. So that settled it. He could watch TV or sit with me in the
kitchen while I threw together a loaf of bread, and then we were gonna eat
supper and cuddle the shit out of each other till he fell asleep.
No Little of mine was gonna go tired.
He mumbled something, ghosting his lips along my neck.
Tempting.
“What was that, baby?”
I felt him smile against my skin.
“I said, maybe we should distract each other from that fuckdweeb by
going upstairs,” he whined.
I couldn’t lie, I liked the whining. It was cute and unfiltered.
I grinned and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “The only thing we’ll be
doing upstairs is sleeping.”
He gasped and inched away to look at me in utter horror.
I laughed. “It’s been a long day. My boy needs his rest.”
He couldn’t hold on to the dramatic disdain now, could he? Instead, he
threw his arms around me again and peppered the side of my face with
kisses.
“I’m your boy?”
“Damn fuckin’ right.” Warmth and sheer joy flooded me. This was
exactly how I wanted him, happy and cuddly and carefree. “And what does
that make me?”
He hummed and dragged those kissable lips to mine. “My Daddy,” he
whispered.
Fuck yeah. His Daddy.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 6

Gael Grimes

N ow was the time to really listen to Kit’s advice.

“If you’re happy, don’t ever ask a Sadist to pinch you, because he
will.”
I didn’t know if Santiago was a Sadist, but I wasn’t going to push my
luck, no matter how badly I wanted to yell, “Is this real? Please pinch me!”
No amount of fear for Caleb’s potential return in my life could destroy
the happiness swirling around inside me. And how Santiago had treated me
last night, like I was the most precious boy in the world. I’d almost freaking
cried after dinner.
I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.
A small, wounded voice in the back of my head reminded me that Caleb
had been wonderful in the beginning too, but Mom’s and Dad’s voices were
louder. Not to mention the therapist I’d gone to after the breakup. It was
okay to trust again. It was good to be careful and to protect myself, but not
everyone was out to hurt me.
I let out a breath and snuggled closer into Santiago’s arms.
He evidently liked to sleep late!
I mean, it was past nine.
I had nothing to rest my eyes on in his empty bedroom either. Except for
him, of course, but he seemed to enjoy having my back to his chest—his
cock against my butt… Ugh. I wanted it. What were we waiting for? We’d
had the safety talk, including protection and safewords, he’d asked about
triggers and whatnot, and I’d blushed my way through a stammered ramble
about past kink experience.
That talk had been over very quickly.
It was a mindfuck to be turned on and embarrassed at the same time,
because I’d had his previous words wreaking havoc in my head.
“When it’s just you and me, I don’t want anything between us.
Protection is reserved for everyone else who isn’t allowed to fill my boy
with come.”
Gosh.
I exhaled and squirmed against his cock.
My Daddy’s cock.
Holy crapamoly, I had a Daddy. And it was him. It wasn’t just any guy.
It was Joshua AKA Santiago Jones, the sweetest, kindest, hottest, most
badass Daddy in the world.
Great. Now I was hard again.
So was he, though.
“Careful, chiquito.” His morning voice rumbled against my neck,
sending a violent shiver down my spine. “I don’t have the same self-control
today that I had yesterday.”
Finally, some good news.
The lust-filled warning gave me courage to be bolder, and I turned
around in his embrace. Unf, his sleepy look was so sexy, and his eyes
seemed extra green in the morning light.
He smiled faintly and leaned in to kiss me, but I only had time for a
quick one. I cupped his scruffy cheek and smooched him soundly, before I
ducked lower and brought my pillow with me.
He rumbled a chuckle. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”
To town?
On his cock?
“Down under.” I giggled at my own cleverness and positioned the
pillow right next to his cock. Now I just had to get rid of his boxer briefs.
He’d told me to sleep naked, but he hadn’t…? Totally unfair. He’d said he
wanted to be able to see me properly—and touch me—and that was how
Doms functioned. Their logic only applied one way—and only when it
suited them.
Santiago lifted the covers some more, then planted his elbow on his own
pillow to support his head in his hand. He didn’t say anything, so I made
my move. For once, I wasn’t nervous one bit. Just buzzing with
anticipation.
When I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his underwear, he
threaded his own into my hair, and that had to mean we were a go. Fuck,
my mouth actually watered as I pulled down his boxer briefs and revealed
his hard cock. The view sent a rush of need through me. I brushed my
fingertips through the dark, trimmed hair around his cock, then the pad of
my thumb up the underside, tracing the thick vein.
“Did you bring your pillow for a reason?” he murmured.
“Yes, Sir.” I planned on staying a while. “This is my new pacifier,
Daddy.”
“Jesus,” he whispered.
I closed the distance and nuzzled the soft, warm skin, and I brushed my
lips along the length before I suckled on the head. I licked it, so it’s mine.
And so forth. Then I slowly sucked him in, licking as much of him as I
could, and he exhaled and got comfortable on his pillow.
It was time for me to do the same. I closed my eyes, let my cheek rest
on the pillow, and slipped a hand back to Daddy’s butt cheek. He took the
hint and scooted closer, effectively burying himself deeper, and my morning
was officially made.
I tried not to be too selfish—I truly wanted to please him—but this was
for me, mostly. I loved to suck cock, and I already knew this was going to
be much more meaningful than my past experiences.
We eased into a seductive, unhurried rhythm, where he pushed forward
a little, and so did I. Both of us lying on our sides, comfortably, and I had
his fingers in my hair, the sensations sending shivers down my spine.
“Lie still, baby,” he whispered huskily. “Pretend you’re asleep.”
Oh God.
That was another fantasy of mine!
I stilled my movements after swirling my tongue around the head of his
cock a few more times, because I had a feeling I wouldn’t do that if I were
asleep. Then I relaxed completely and focused solely on his cock.
“What a perfect view,” he murmured. “Remember your safewords?”
I nodded.
“Good boy.”
Back and forth, back and forth, he worked his cock in my mouth,
rubbing the head against the back of my throat. And I didn’t swallow. I let
the saliva coat him and pool in my mouth.
He cursed under his breath and pulled out, and I felt him stroke himself,
the tip brushing against my lips.
I made a sleepy, whining sound of complaint that made him moan.
“Don’t worry—Daddy’s got your pacifier here.” He pushed in again,
and I settled down once more. I hoped he didn’t withdraw for anytime soon,
’cause I wanted him in my mouth for a long, long time.
He sort of obeyed.
Every now and then, in between lulling moments of him slowly fucking
my mouth, he pulled out to hear me whimper in protest, then to watch me
reach for him and suckle greedily.
Sometimes, he slowed down too. Judging by his breathing, he was
trying to hold back and not come yet.
I just wanted to suck him!
“Fuck it,” he exhaled.
He pulled out—again!—and this time with jerkier motions, causing the
bed to rattle as he moved around. And he hadn’t told me to “wake up,” so I
waited quietly and kept my eyes closed.
Uh-oh, I knew that sound! He’d opened a bottle of something.
“Daddy can’t wait any longer.”
Yesssss!
Okay, I could suck more on him later.
The mattress dipped as he returned to me, this time to cover my body
with his and nudge me onto my stomach. A shudder ran through me, and I
felt all of him. All of him. His featherlight kisses against my neck, the short
hairs on his chest tickling my back, his slicked-up cock wedged between
my butt cheeks, his strong thighs cradling my own, and one of his hands
roaming my side.
He trapped my earlobe between his teeth. “I heard you’re not supposed
to wake a little one when he’s asleep.” Just then, he gripped his cock and
slid it between my butt cheeks, spreading the oil he must’ve applied in a
quick rush. “My beautiful boy…” He kissed my hair and breathed me in,
and I did my absolute best not to tense up and move.
Gah. Not moving became nearly impossible when he replaced his cock
with two fingers and dug deeper, at the same time as he kissed my neck
hungrily, teasing my skin with both his tongue and his raspy scruff.
“Just relax, sweetheart. It’s a dream.”
 I’ll say!
He took his time preparing me, fingering me unhurriedly, and I could
admit I got impatient. I didn’t use my dildo or vibrator at home to fantasize
about one day getting fingered. I wanted Daddy’s cock. I wanted it to sting,
to burn, to turn me all breathless. I’d fantasized about having a Daddy who
rapefucked me into oblivion, who couldn’t resist me, who couldn’t stop
when I asked him to.
I exhaled shakily when he withdrew his fingers, at long last, and pressed
the head of his cock against me again. And this time, he didn’t stop.
The pain was instant—the second more than the head was in, the fiery
hurt welled up and shot through me, and I couldn’t help but whimper and
go rigid.
“Shh, sweet boy. Daddy’s gonna take care of you. Go back to sleep.”
Goose bumps rose across my skin, more so where his body heat touched
me.
He kept murmuring filthy, sweet things in my ear, and each obscenity
thawed me out and pierced the pain. He just wanted to fuck his gorgeous
boy’s tight hole, he said. He just wanted to show me how Daddy would love
on his boy every night. He just had to take me.
I bit down on my lip, barely resisting the urge to push back against him.
He was buried so deep, and I was evidently slutty enough to go with the
hurt, as long as it gave me more cock. But yeah, then he pushed in all the
way, and the fire sucked the air out of my lungs.
He groaned against my neck and gripped my hip.
My breaths turned shallow, and I was so freaking torn between begging
for more and trying to escape.
“You just had to be perfect, didn’t you?” He drew a deep breath and
pulled out slowly, only to push in again. “Fuck—addicted in five goddamn
seconds.” He kneaded my butt cheek roughly, and he leaned back, maybe
because he wanted to see. “This little ass is mine now, baby boy. I wish you
could see how tightly it’s stretched around Daddy’s cock. Fucking hell.”
I whimpered—I couldn’t help it! But he was turning me on so badly,
and emotions wanted out.
He hummed and lowered himself over me again, and his heated kisses
along my neck made a return as he began fucking me in long, measured
thrusts.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “No sounds.”
 A flash of a memory hit, something about a journal entry I’d read, and I
dug into my mind, finding Cam’s words. He’d written about this.
Somnophilia—and the effects of being quiet, bottling up all the sensations
his Master essentially fucked into him. It’d made Cam’s orgasm more
powerful.
I drew in a deep breath and screwed my eyes shut, and I hugged my
pillow to me.
“Look at you,” Daddy chuckled, out of breath. “So defenseless and
precious.” He leaned forward and nipped at my jaw. “It makes me torn. Part
of me wants to defile every inch of your soft little body, smear Daddy’s
come all over you…”
Don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t fucking moan!
“The other part…” He exhaled and fucked me a little faster. “I keep
seeing your face when you sucked me. Like a perfect cocksucker for Daddy.
And I wanna hold you right there, stroke your hair, whisper sweet nothings,
let you nurse from my cock…till you get all of Daddy’s milk.”
That was it; I had to literally bite down on the pillow and press my face
against it. But nothing could stop me from pushing my bottom against his
cock, if only a little. He talked about being addicted to me already? Well, I
was addicted to him too!
He sped up again, going harder and faster, and he slipped a hand
between me and the mattress, finding me rock hard. It made him chuckle.
“That’s my boy.” He pressed his lips to my shoulder. “You’re about to
make a mess all over Daddy’s bed.”
I didn’t doubt him, because he rubbed me hard and persistently, almost
at the same pace he drilled me with his big cock. The sound of his skin
slapping against mine filled the air, and I could sense he was getting close.
It was difficult to focus when I couldn’t moan, groan, whimper—whatever.
It felt so damn good, and I wanted to move. I needed to move.
Don’t make a sound.
“Christ, that’s it,” he groaned. “Daddy’s gonna come, baby.”
My lungs burned, and fuck me if I didn’t get lightheaded from pressing
my labored breaths into the pillow. My skin felt flushed and damp—oh
fuck, oh fuck. He tightened his hold on my cock and twisted at the head,
smearing the fluids seeping from me, and I fucking lost it. The pleasure
came at me so fast that I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
 My orgasm crashed down on me, and the feeling of soaking Daddy’s
hand in my come made me feel weirdly embarrassed in a hot way—like it
turned me on to know that he felt how desperate he made me. That he made
me lose control.
Then he was coming too, and I gave up on my fight. I pushed away the
pillow and cried out, and it prolonged the euphoria. A million tiny
explosions set off within me, turning me into a needy, rambling savage.
“Fuck me, Daddy!” I moaned hoarsely. “Harder—harder, harder,
please! Oh God, Daddy, it feels so good.”
He cursed breathlessly and pounded his release into me, and then I felt
his hand sliding around my neck, up my jaw, and he smeared my orgasm
around my mouth.
“My dirty little baby,” he growled in my ear. “Taste the mess you
made.”
He pushed three fingers into my mouth, and I groaned around them. I
licked them, I sucked on them—until he grunted, slammed forcefully into
me, and grew still.
I panted around Daddy’s fingers, and I shuddered and shuddered.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Gael…” He blew out a breath and squeezed me to
him. “Holy fuck. Now I regret making plans for the day.”
Ewww, plans.
We should totally stay here for hours and hours.

Let me repeat. Ewww, plans.

I couldn’t help but be a little nervous when we parked outside of a huge
hangar, the place Colt had built his business with two others. MadCo Sec
was written in big white letters across the black background of the hangar,
and the property stood out among the nearby agricultural businesses with
their silos and fields.
On the other side of those metal doors were Colt Carter and his Air
Force friends.
Hopefully, I’d get over most of my shyness soon. I wanted to be social
and have a bunch of friends—and I felt meeting Santiago would be a big
help. It went without saying I became braver when he held my hand, but at
the same time, it was a little bit like cheating. I had to do the work. I had to
reach out to people.
“It’s not as cold today, is it?” Santiago glanced up at the overcast sky.
“Spring shouldn’t be too long now.”
I scrunched my nose. It was plenty cold to me. “Your definition of not
cold needs some work, Daddy.”
He cracked a smile at me and squeezed my hand. “I love hearing you
call me that.”
Ugh, don’t make me horny again.
I was so sore.
He opened the door, and we were met by loud voices coming from
inside.
Oh wow. I’d stupidly not expected the place to look like a hangar inside
—I didn’t know why—but that was exactly what it was. The vaulted sides
were made up of two stories of offices in glass, though I couldn’t see
through it, so I could only assume they were offices. The rest was wide
open, from the painted concrete floor to the high ceiling where fans and big
lamps hung.
They had a café area in the back, and an actual basketball hoop—oh my
goodness! Kit was here! He was sitting in the circular front-desk type thing.
I hadn’t seen him because he was being crowded by Colt and some other
people, and it looked like they were eating something.
“That’s a winner.” The man who spoke—I recognized him. It had to be
Ty. He was a member at House Mclean too.
“I don’t know.” Colt was hesitating. “Luke’s gonna want the meringue
one.”
“He told you to pick three,” Kit said in a reminding tone.
Oh, it was cake. As two guys left the area, I saw the setup of at least ten
pieces of cake on the desk.
“I guess we picked the right day to visit,” Santiago said.
All attention shifted to us, and Kit lit up.
“Gael! And Santiago! Um. Holding hands!”
Cue traitorous blush!
Not to mention the biggest case of butterflies.
“Would ya look at that.” Colt grinned lazily and stuck his plastic spoon
into his mouth. “Kit, go get us some coffee—maybe soda for the kid. I think
Santiago takes his with milk.”
 “Yes, Sir! I know what Gael likes. Can he come with me?” Kit asked.
I glanced up at Santiago for permission.
“In a moment,” he said, kissing the top of my head. He released my
hand. “I kinda need you here for the first part.”
Oh, okay. No problem. Kit and I could catch up later.
Ty let out a whistle and summoned the remaining three employees, and
he told them to meet up with him in the lab. Whatever that meant. What did
they have a lab for? Or perhaps it was something else in the security
business.
Kit scurried off to the dining area, and Santiago and Colt shook hands.
“What brings you guys by?” Colt asked.
Santiago placed a hand at the top of my head. “This one, as you know,
has an ex who can’t let go.”
Mm-hmm, he’d told both Colt and Dean about Caleb—but I couldn’t
exactly be annoyed. Dean had been there yesterday when Santiago had
found the letter, and Colt apparently had what we needed for my detective
Daddy’s next step of the plan.
Colt inclined his head and glanced at me quickly. He wasn’t wearing his
Sadist cape at work, so I didn’t get frazzled. He was concerned, if anything.
“Come on, let’s go to one of the conference rooms.” Colt nodded at the
glass-encased offices behind him. “Has the fucker reached out?”
“Yeah, yesterday,” Santiago responded. “Well, we found a letter
yesterday, but it could’ve been delivered anywhere between Tuesday and
Sunday.”
I should probably check my mailbox more often.
As we were shown into a room with a long table inside, Santiago filled
Colt in on the details, and he shared his suspicion that Caleb enjoyed
making me scared—like it was a game to him. So now, Santiago wanted to
throw out some bait.
“I’m listenin’,” Colt said.
I sat down next to Santiago, and Colt got seated at the head of the table
with a notepad and a pen.
“There’s only one apartment at Gael’s address, so aside from him and
mail carriers, no one’s supposed to have access,” Santiago explained.
“Somehow, Caleb got in anyway. I don’t believe he actually has a key, but
I’m thinking he waited for the mail to arrive one day and snuck in.”
Colt nodded. “Nothin’ so far on the surveillance?”
 “No, he didn’t go near the door upstairs,” Santiago confirmed. “Caleb’s
supposedly tech-savvy—”
“Somewhat,” I interjected. “He does code and stuff, but it’s not like he’s
a hacker. He’s into creating apps and software.”
“But he’s smart enough to know there might be cameras,” Colt deduced.
“He’s not completely reckless.”
That was correct.
Santiago sat forward and clasped his hands loosely on the table. “I
reckon it’s a balancing act between caution and thinking the cops won’t do
anything even if he gets caught. Every time Gael’s pressed charges, Caleb’s
gotten away with a fine.”
The topic tightened a knot of unease in my stomach, and I could only
hope this went away soon. If it didn’t… How long would Santiago stick
around before he got sick of my baggage? My chances of convincing Dean
to play with Santiago weren’t great either. Because that had to happen. My
Daddy was smitten with the professor—I mean, who wasn’t?—so I wanted
to help them like Santiago was helping me. But Dean didn’t strike me as
someone who wanted to get too close to drama.
“So what kind of bait do you wanna throw out?” Colt wondered.
“You were talking about those security doors.”
What doors?
Santiago went on. “If Caleb thinks it’s funny to know he’s getting to
Gael, he should get a big laugh if he sees a newly installed security door—”
“Um, excuse me, Sir, I do not want to make that douchebag laugh,” I
felt the need to say. “I want him out of my life.”
“That’s the goal, querido.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
Colt smirked a little. “Seeing the door will prompt a next move,” he
explained to me. “It might even make him bolder to think you’re hidin’
behind a bunch of security. It’s a good plan.”
Oh. Okay, maybe that made sense. In the past, Caleb had found it super
funny when I tried to push back. When I’d begged him to stop, when I’d
gotten angry with him.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I don’t think I can afford a thing
like that, though.”
A door sounded expensive.
“You don’t have to worry about money,” Daddy told me. “I’ll handle
this.”
 “Actually, we will,” Colt said, clearing his throat. “The door is a
prototype, so what we’ll do is we’ll install it as soon as possible. It’s yours
for the next six months, and in return, you leave us a rave review. If you
wanna keep it once that piece’a shit is hopefully locked up, we can work
somethin’ out.”
Heavens, that was generous—but I truly hoped it wouldn’t take six
months to get Caleb back to the West Coast!
“Is there a landlord we gotta reach out to, or…?” Colt looked at us.
I shook my head. “No, Sir.” It was my entrance—or my mom and dad’s,
technically. It was part of the place they’d bought for me. I paid the
mortgage instead of rent.
Santiago squeezed my hand again. “You know the next step now. You
can go talk to Kit while Colt and I sort this out if you want.”
That was a relief, because I was starting to get overwhelmed. “Thank
you, Sir.” I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then hurried out.
Phew. Security was so not my field of expertise.
Maybe it was selfish, but I truly wanted Santiago to handle all this. I
didn’t have the energy. I was so, so, so tired of Caleb’s harassment. Last
time it’d happened, I’d cried for two days and barely left my apartment. His
popping up whenever I’d started to relax wore me down more than I could
describe.
I almost ran into Kit outside the conference room, and I laughed
nervously and sidestepped. “Oops, sorry.”
“My bad! I’ll be right back—just gonna give this to Colt and Santiago,”
he said. Then he went into the room with two cups of coffee.
I blew out a breath and unzipped my jacket.
A radio was playing country music somewhere. Otherwise, you could
hear a pin drop in here—and it would probably echo too.
Kit returned in seconds, and he seemed so happy to see me that it
dragged me out of my Caleb funk before it could really grab hold of me like
it usually did. Kit took care of my jacket and offered me a Sprite Zero, and
then he said he wanted my input on the cake they’d been testing.
“It’s for Valentine’s,” he explained. “Lucas, Colt, and I are having a big
cake-tasting date, so we’ve narrowed it down to twenty kinds. We have ten
here, and Lucas has another ten at home. The goal is to have our final ten
for Valentine’s, and then somehow agree on the three winners for the
wedding.”
 Oh, right. His Daddies were getting married this year. I thought that was
super cute. He’d convinced them and everything. Colt and Lucas had been
together for nearly a decade, and Kit was the kind of guy who wanted to
celebrate his Doms’ love for each other, not just the love they shared as a
triad, which was nothing short of dreamy. And selfless.
I’d read most of Kit’s wedding updates online. They didn’t have a date
yet, but I was happy to follow along with the planning. I mean, talk about
relationship goals.
Even though it was Colt and Lucas getting married, they were including
Kit in everything. They would go on the honeymoon together, Kit would be
up there at the altar with both of his men, and the day after the church thing
that involved only family, they were doing a special party in Mclean for
kinkster friends. Where they would have a second ceremony to exchange
rings with Kit as well.
Since there was only one chair at the front desk, Kit handed me two
paper plates with cake, and he grabbed two as well, and then we walked
over to sit in the café area. I almost dropped my soda on the way because
I’d trapped the can under my arm, and I was such a klutz sometimes.
“Okay, I want to know everything,” he said. “Don’t leave anything out.”
I grinned. Oof. Where did I start?

With impeccable timing, a customer or client arrived just when I’d finished
rambling, so Kit rushed over to the front desk to help the man, who had an
appointment with Ty.
“Of course, sir. I’ll take you to him. He’s on the second floor right up
here.” He gestured for the man to follow, and then they trailed up the stairs
on the other side of the hangar.
Kit had told me he was going to take on some PA duties at both Colt’s
work and Lucas’s, but I hadn’t known he’d already started.
I took a big gulp of my soda, feeling parched from all the talking, and
eyed the cake on the table in front of me. I’d really liked the lemon
cheesecake. The filling was so fluffy and not too sweet, and it had several
layers of graham crackers. But maybe it wasn’t wedding material. I didn’t
know about such things.
 Kit hurried back to me, the sound of his shoes hitting the metal stairs
echoing across the hangar. “Okay, let’s tackle my questions before Colt and
Santiago are done,” he said, out of breath. He sat down across from me
again and took a spoonful of chocolate cake to shove it into his mouth.
“What’re you gonna do about Dean? You indicated he was interested in
both of you.”
“He’s definitely interested in Santiago,” I answered. “With me, it’s just
playtime.” Which was plenty, of course. I’d never dared dream he’d even
want to go near me.
“That you know of.” Kit butted in. “Maybe he wants more.”
Let’s not go there. It felt presumptuous and farfetched.
“Oh! You know what you can do?” He leaned forward, excitement
flashing in his eyes. “Drop out of his class. You already have the reading
material, right? And if you’re in a dynamic with the professor, I bet you
could get the knowledge from him anyway—it just won’t be official and
come with tests. Win-win, if you ask me.”
Drop the class? The best professor in the world’s class?
You could also have the best professor in the world fuck you into next
week.
I sucked in a breath and scratched the side of my head.
If Dean and Santiago got together, chances were I’d—aside from enter a
playtime dynamic with Dean—be on very good terms with him, and he
seemed to have enjoyed our chat at my place. Maybe we could do more of
that. Talk for hours about history and…
It was the perfect plan.
“You’re a genius, Kit.”
He beamed at me.
A door opened somewhere, and Kit glanced behind me—
“Gael? We gotta go, baby.”
I turned around, and I didn’t like the tension in Santiago’s posture.
Something was wrong.
“What happened?” I rose from my seat and started grabbing my used
spoon and soda, but Kit stopped me and said he’d take care of it.
Colt came out from the conference room too, and he looked just as
tense. “I’ll call Reese right away, buddy.”
Santiago nodded subtly in thanks. “I’ll explain in the truck,” he told me.
Kit and I exchanged a wary glance. We’d talk later.
 By the time I reached Santiago, he’d grabbed my jacket on the front
desk for me, and he held it out and helped me put it on.
“Is it very bad?” I asked nervously.
“No.” He pressed a firm kiss to the top of my head, and I wasn’t sure I
bought his response. “Your ex is just makin’ me a bit homicidal.”
Oh God. Now what?! What had he done now?
I smashed my lips together in a thin line and felt a surge of anger well
up within me. I was so fucking fed up with Caleb. Hadn’t he messed with
my life enough? And now he was ruining my Daddy’s mood too. I wouldn’t
freaking stand for it.
After a hasty goodbye, we left MadCo Sec and returned to the truck,
and it brought me a little bit of relief when he opened the door for me and
wordlessly helped me with my belt. Like, that hadn’t changed. He wasn’t so
mad that our Daddy/boy-isms got left behind.
“Where are we going, Sir?”
“To Dean’s place in Georgetown.” He closed the door and rounded the
truck, and I was utterly confused. Puzzled. Confuzzled! When he got in
behind the wheel, he continued as he started the truck and backed out of the
parking spot. “He found a letter in his mailbox.”
Oh no.
My stomach tightened with dread.
“It said, ‘Don’t go near Gael Grimes. He’s mine.’” Santiago tore out of
the parking lot, his jaw tense. “You haven’t told anyone you’re in Dean’s
class, have you?”
I shook my head quickly. “I mean, no one that Caleb would run across. I
think Macklin is the only one who knows the class by its actual name, and
Kit knows Dean’s my professor.” By default, their Owners knew too.
“Right. So I think it’s safe to assume Caleb’s been following you,”
Santiago deduced. “If he followed you to class, he can see what professor’s
assigned to the lecture hall in question. Furthermore, you’ve been to a few
of his sessions now, and Dean received this letter today. The day after you
were seen in public with him outside campus.”
Oh my God, he could’ve seen me and Dean together outside Macklin’s
restaurant—or outside my place. Santiago too!
“That means he’s probably seen you as well,” I said worriedly.
He nodded with a dip of his chin. “The difference between Dean and me
is that my name and address aren’t public. It’s possible Caleb’s tried to
figure out who I am and failed. My name isn’t written on my forehead
either, so he wouldn’t know where to look.”
I gnashed my teeth and looked out the window as rage flowed through
my bloodstream. This was fucking it. For the first time ever, I wasn’t afraid
of Caleb—I was just furious. I wanted to walk up to him and scream in his
face, call him a loser, tell him I’d never loved him, let him know he was
fucking useless…
Fuck.
Fucking fuck!
I wasn’t used to being so angry. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt this much
hatred. Sheer, overpowering, ugly hatred.
And a bit of resentment toward myself. How had I ever fallen for his
crap? In retrospect—like I’d admitted to my dad after the breakup—there’d
been plenty of red flags from the beginning. Caleb’s sense of “humor”
consisted of snide digs that he wrapped up in a charming grin and a “I’m
just kidding, babe.”
Yuck.
I guessed a part of me had been socially conditioned to be grateful that
someone wanted me, so I’d turned a blind eye to the traits that’d bothered
me.
It’d been a slow descent for me, those two years. Little things here and
there, few and far between, until it got worse and worse, and one day I
woke up feeling suffocated. I’d realized I wasn’t merely unhappy, but I’d
been depressed. And I’d begun thinking back on all the things that’d gotten
me to that point.
It was all him.
“I’m gonna fix this, sweetheart.” Daddy took my hand and threaded our
fingers together, and I squeezed back. “I’m waiting for a buddy to get back
to me about Caleb’s credit card—”
“It’s not your responsibility—”
“It ain’t about that. It’s personal for me too now. He belongs in prison.”
Pffft, he’d get thirty days or something.
“In the meantime, we’re gonna stay in Mclean,” he said.
I looked to him and frowned.
“Colt suggested it, and I agree with him,” he continued. “We just have
to convince a stubborn ol’ professor to join us. Dean might be more difficult
to handle than Caleb.”
 I made a weird sound as amusement and disbelief collided, and it made
Santiago smile a little.
“You’re gonna have to help me convince him,” he told me.
I bit my lip and figured I could tell him about Kit’s genius idea. “Are
you sure Dean is interested in playing with me?”
I’d heard the man say it directly to my face, but I just needed some
reassurance.
“Baby, he’s more than interested.” He withdrew his hand and checked
the rearview before switching lanes. “The problem with men over fifty is
that they’re so set in their ways that you gotta push them off an opinion’s
cliff to change their minds. Dean is just like you and me—we want
someone to share our life with—but he’s gotten it in his head that there’s no
one out there for him. That there’s something wrong with him, and that he’s
too old to try anymore.”
What on earth? That was crazy. Dean was the whole package!
“At the risk of sounding arrogant, I think I have a pretty good shot,” he
said. “He and I have something. But I’m not an irresistible little subbie boy
like you.”
An irresistible little subbie boy…
The words coming out of this man’s mouth, man.
That settled things, though. I was going to be brave.
I was going to seduce my professor.
I should probably Google seduction.
“I’m dropping his class,” I announced.
“What?” He furrowed his brow and side-eyed me. “You don’t have to
do that. We have time, Gael. Just be your cute self and ask him to join us in
Mclean. It’ll be a lot more convincing than me telling him to get his
stubborn ass in the truck.”
I gigglesnorted, much to his satisfaction. “Well, I’m doing it. As soon as
I get access to a laptop.” Which would be soon, because if we were
spending the night in Mclean, I would have to go home and pack another
bag and feed General. He would be totally okay one more night once I’d
cuddled him a few minutes, but unless it went against the rules, due to
allergies and stuff, maybe I could bring him. But more on that later.
Seduction was the best topic now. “Speaking of Dean, how would one go
about seducing him?”
Daddy blinked and looked at me like I was a new person.
 That was funny!
“I—” He stopped himself when his phone rang, and he eyed the display.
“Finally. One second, sweet boy.”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 7

Dean Aavik

“T his is completely unnecessary,

motherless little prick.”
Joshua. I’m not afraid of that

It was as if he didn’t hear me. He just stalked into my home and

shrugged out of his jacket. “Where do you keep your overnight bag,
cariño?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I grated out.
I shouldn’t have told him about the damn note. It’d just irritated me—
and I’d texted him because it might help him with his investigation, but this
was too much. Although, I appreciated the term of endearment.
Gael kicked off his boots and joined Joshua in the living room, and the
boy seemed to enjoy the sight of all the books.
“Is this my cue, Daddy?”
Daddy.
So they were official.
Good for them.
I suppressed a sigh and closed the door to the sound of Joshua saying,
“Yeah, go for it, little one.”
As I left the entryway, Gael backtracked and blocked my path, and he
smiled up at me.
“Hi, Sir.”
I narrowed my eyes at Joshua, who merely grinned. What was going on
here?
“Hello, dear.” I dragged my gaze back to the boy.
 “I think it’s best if you come with us,” he said. “Like, it would mean the
world to me, and I wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
Joshua had put him up to this, hadn’t he?
“You don’t have to worry about me, regardless,” I explained patiently.
“I’m safe here. I’m safe in my home and at work.” I’d be safe if I ended up
face-to-face with that imbecile too.
A sweet blush crept forward on Gael’s cheeks, and he took a small step
toward me and—fucking hell, he switched on the puppy-dog look.
Goddamn Joshua. Goddamn Gael.
“But, please?” The boy even clasped his hands together. “Can’t you
hide with me, Sir? With us? I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if
Caleb hurt you.”
For the love of—
I didn’t hide, goddammit. If anything, I wanted to help Joshua track
down that punk and give him a piece of my mind.
“I could use your help on this case.” Joshua’s voice brought my
attention back to him, and I wondered if he could suddenly read minds. “We
have a few leads now.”
“Pretty please, Sir.” Gael took another step toward me and grabbed my
hand, his pale blue eyes searing their sweet plea into me.
I was officially the superficial bastard who caved under the spell of an
adorable submissive, and I couldn’t fucking believe it. What was wrong
with me? No good could come of this outing. The moment we set foot in
the house in Mclean, the professionalism I was clinging to would be gone.
With it, my resolve. And I couldn’t allow that.
I was supposed to see this boy in class tomorrow. Now, he was holding
my hand, begging me to hide with him in my kink community’s big estate.
My God. If I got through this with my integrity intact, I deserved an award.
“How is this supposed to be just one night?” I had to ask, and I
addressed Joshua. “Do you have a plan? How will going into hiding help us
track down Caleb?”
Joshua cleared his throat and gave my living room a quick glance. “The
hiding part is mostly for Gael’s comfort. But even me—people come and go
in this building at all hours, Dean. I’d feel better if we stuck it out together.”
“So. Much. Better,” Gael implored.
My mouth twitched with mirth, and I shook my head at his cuteness.
Gael had regressed a bit since I’d seen him last night, and it was a great
look on him. He was relaxing in Joshua’s ownership.
“I’m not making any promises on this being just one night, though,”
Joshua continued, and I gave him a flat stare. There we go. So, what? We’d
simply stay out in Mclean indefinitely? Absolutely not. “But I do have a
plan. The Tenleys and Colt are gonna help me—and you, if you’re up to it.”
Up to it?
Fucking brat.
His smirk told me he knew he was pushing the right button.
“Tell me the plan,” I demanded.
Gael slipped his hand out of mine and chewed on the inside of his
cheek.
“I gotta run it over with Reese and Colt first, but I wanna use you as
bait,” Joshua replied. “And Gael.”
I lifted my brows.
Gael smiled nervously. “Daddy explained in the car. I’m gonna be
brave.”
I didn’t like that part at all. Gael shouldn’t go anywhere near Caleb.
“I thought of it when Gael told me he’s dropping out of your class—”
“He’s doing what?” I stared down at Gael, surprised. Disappointed too,
if I was being honest.
“We can discuss that later,” Gael said. “The important thing is, I’m not
your student anymore, but I will pretend on Thursday. Tomorrow, you will
go to class as usual, and Daddy and Reese and Colt will look out for anyone
who might be following you. Daddy will keep his distance since Caleb
likely knows what he looks like. And if this works, great! If it doesn’t, we’ll
try again on Thursday, and I will be there also, and you and I can sit
together outside the hall and be bait—and maybe talk history because I like
that very much.”
It was a mindfuck to listen to his rapid rambling, because part of me just
wanted to stare, fascinated and ridiculously attracted, while the rest of me
was processing the information. I had no problems acting like bait; it was
an old tactic that’d won many battles. And as long as Gael stayed close to
me, I supposed I could survive his being part of this plan.
“Daddy’s gonna ask if I can bring General to Mclean too,” Gael said.
“We’re keeping our fingers crossed, but we’re ready for a no because of
allergies.”
 That shouldn’t be a problem. If I were to actually go through with this, I
wasn’t staying in a guest room at the house. Each of the founding members
of Mclean House had an A-frame cabin that lined the back of the property,
and Macklin was one of those founders. Given how busy he and Walker
were at the moment, we could probably borrow their cabin.
Christ. Was I actually considering this, then?
The boy’s not your student anymore.
Fuck.
I was going to have a talk with Gael about that. For selfish reasons, his
dropping out meant I was no longer worrying about breaking my own moral
code. At the same time…he was perfect for my class. I’d been hoping to see
a more active side of him now.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Is it working, Daddy? Are we convincing him?”

“We are going on an adventure,” Gael sang in the back seat. “Yes, we are,
yes, we are, yes, we are.”
I side-eyed Joshua and the love-sick look on his face. He kept watching
his boy in the rearview and smiling to himself.
I peered out my window instead. Weekend bag and laptop bag in my
lap. Wondering how the fuck I’d ended up here.
Somehow, I’d agreed to “a few days” in Mclean, and Macklin could not
have agreed quicker to letting us borrow their cabin. In other words, a fuzzy
cat named General was sleeping in his carrier next to Gael.
We drove out to Tysons, where we met up with River and Reese in the
parking lot behind an auto dealership. The elaborate plan included making
sure nobody found out about Mclean, so it was a way to shake a potential
tail.
Joshua glanced around us and greeted the twin brothers.
“So they managed to rope you into the whole thing.” Reese grinned and
shook my hand too.
“Joshua sent in the infantry. Puppy-dog looks by Gael,” I replied.
Gael looked proud—and a little sheepish.
 “Yeah, that’s effective.” Reese ruffled the boy’s hair. “How you doin’,
kid?”
“Relatively all right!” Gael answered. “I just hope this is over soon.”
“Eh, I don’t foresee any issues.” Reese turned back to Joshua. “So we’ll
discuss the details later. Where do you want us to go now?” He handed over
the keys to what I presumed was River’s truck.
Joshua accepted them and handed over his own keys. And a Post-it
note. “I wrote down the addresses here—and the potential cars. It’s Gael’s
place, Dean’s address, and the lecture hall. The parking lot around there,
just see if you spot any of the models I wrote down.”
That one had my attention. “Caleb has a car here?”
Joshua inclined his head. “A rental. A buddy of mine accidentally
stumbled across some credit card information that he happened to forward
to me.”
Accidentally stumbled, sure. I knew how these private contractors
functioned. Private investigators, included. Joshua had spent so many years
building up a network of connections, and I was willing to bet he was ready
to cash in countless favors to track down Caleb.
River eyed the note. “You narrowed it down pretty well.”
“Daddy did detective work on the way!” Gael announced. “It was
amazing.”
I smiled. It was impossible not to.
Joshua chuckled. “You’re easily impressed, sweetheart. I just checked
the rental place’s fleet online. Those four vehicles are unavailable to rent for
the dates I picked.”
“Sounds good,” Reese said, turning to River. “We should reach out to
Squeezy. She can at least pin down the exact car.”
River nodded.
The Tenleys were another pair who had more connections than they
could count, thanks to their years in the private sector, something they were
discreet about. But military folk tended to recognize one another. If
someone who was former military said they worked in risk assessment or
consulting in a related field, chances were they worked as military
contractors.
“This should be over in a few days,” Reese determined. “I’ll let you
know when we have something.”
 “Thanks, man.” Joshua planted a hand on Gael’s head. “Let’s get settled
in at the house, shall we?”
Moments later, Joshua, Gael, and I were on our way again, this time in
River’s truck, and the twins took off in Joshua’s truck for a few hours of
surveillance in town.
Joshua was on high alert as he drove, though he was subtle about it. He
hummed, nodded, and responded on autopilot to Gael’s unfiltered musings
that ranged from historic battles to the new design of the nightclub area at
Mclean, all while our detective kept an eye on the cars we shared the
freeway with.
I’d missed him, I had to admit. Every time Joshua and I had crossed
paths over the years, he’d brightened my day. Even when we were using
each other to complain about our lackluster love lives. Maybe especially
then.
He relaxed a bit once we were off the 495, and I noticed he took some
detours along the way. Before long, we drove through a set of wrought-iron
gates that’d never been closed, and we hit the private dirt road leading up to
Mclean House. The trees that lined the road on both sides needed a few
more weeks before welcoming spring.
“…but most of all, I want to reach out to Cam,” Gael was saying. “I
want to learn about domestic servitude stuff.”
He did?
“That’s great, querido.” Joshua smiled at him in the rearview. “I’m
proud of you, you know that? I’m sure he has tons to teach you.”
I had to turn around and get a look at the boy. “Are you into submission
on that level?”
“Sort of?” he asked rather than stated. “I’m very curious about it. I don’t
think I have a slave lurking inside me, but I want to find a good balance
between being Daddy’s goofball and a sub who has everything ready for
him when he gets home from work. Like, Daddy loves to cook, so maybe I
can do prep and make sure all the ingredients are out and things like that.
And clean and so on.”
The floodgates had opened. I didn’t detect an ounce of shyness
anymore. Instead, a boy hungry for the next step in their dynamic.
“I’m sure you’ll find a wonderful balance.” I smiled politely and faced
forward again.
 Wistfulness wrapped up in envy festered within me. I’d never been the
Dominant who required a certain kink in my relationships, other than
submission, of course. To me, it boiled down to what kinks came to life
when chemistry had its say. I’d shared good dynamics with Littles, with
hardcore masochists, with slaves, and with sadomasochists over the years.
The kink was rarely, if ever, a deal-breaker.
That said, I had a soft spot for subbies who were into domestic
servitude.
“You’re already an excellent helper to Daddy,” Joshua said. “You’re
going to help me pick out wallpaper and paint and everything.”
“Yeah! I’m looking forward to that.” Gael beamed. “I need things to
look at when Daddy sleeps forever.”
I lifted a brow and eyed Joshua. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those who
can sleep all day.”
“Hell no,” he chuckled incredulously.
Okay, good.
“Um, excuse me,” Gael said. “I woke him up at nine.”
But he’d just said— “That’s late, Joshua. By nine, I’ve already
showered, gotten dressed, had breakfast, and gone through two
newspapers.”
He slid me a look I could only describe as “what the fuck.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Gael cried out. “Master Dean is on my side,
Daddy!”
Master Dean.
Christ. That sounded good coming from his lips.
“Well, fine,” Joshua snorted. “You two can have breakfast ready when I
get up.”
“I can make breakfast,” Gael offered quickly. I caught him glancing at
me in the sideview mirror. “You can have coffee and read the paper while I
make breakfast, Sir. How do you like your eggs?”
Boy, don’t paint me a future I’ve lost hope of finding.
“Like I do, baby,” Joshua replied. “Sunny-side up, soft-boiled, or
scrambled.”
My chest felt tight all of a sudden, and I didn’t enjoy the lines so blurry.
They were discussing the mornings that followed nights of playtime. For a
casual dynamic. I would be the third they brought in.
 Joshua was anything but subtle with his agenda, but I wasn’t as
optimistic. Did I want more? Of course I did. I wanted to finally get my
shot with Joshua—and Gael… I was incredibly torn. He was so young. I
feared we’d never be on the same page. How could we be with that age
gap? My life was winding down. His was just beginning.
It would do me good to keep a distance from them. Physically and
emotionally. I wouldn’t be able to resist a playtime dynamic with them, but
it would come with plenty of boundaries and restrictions.
“Maybe the three of us can do something fun for Valentine’s on Friday,”
Joshua suggested.
Not helping.

Seeing the house brought back some of my determination, thankfully. The

grand Victorian with its tall trees rose ominously from an otherwise flat
landscape of small-scale farming, with civilization looming on the horizon.
It was a sliver of solitude, not too far away from the river, where we didn’t
have to hide.
And it was our new hiding spot. Splendid.
Joshua grabbed his bag, Gael’s bag, and General’s litter box, so I went
for the two grocery bags.
This early on a Monday, it was easy to find a parking spot in the big
carport, but more often than not, I had to park to the side.
We crossed the expansive front lawn together, and rather than walking
through the house, we walked alongside it to get to the back. Immediately
to our left was the row of founders’ cabins. River, Reese, and Shay lived
permanently in the first one—for the time being. I’d learned from Macklin
that they were building a house nearby.
The outdoor area at the back of the main house was empty, from the
deck and barbecue area to the covered pool. Loungers were stacked in a far
corner before another lawn took over. It led down to the little forest, where
our primal players and Sadists liked to host takedown events.
These days, I preferred an open fire and a comfortable chair, ideally
with a good book in my hands and a sub at my feet.
 Walker wanted the primal play before he donned his comfortable
slippers and sat down in his own chair with Macklin.
“The fourth cabin is Macklin’s,” I said. “There’s a spare key in the pot
on that table.” All the cabins had their own little front porch, but only three
of them had furniture out there. Macklin loved to decorate, and last time I’d
been here, his wicker sofa and chairs had been covered in snow.
Joshua walked ahead, with Gael scurrying after with General’s carrier.
It was going to be an interesting few days.
Work would hopefully keep me distracted. Or focused, rather.
I stepped up on the little deck as Joshua unlocked the door.
It was certainly a warm and picturesque setup, complete with fireplace
and all the things that transported us to a secluded, snowcapped mountain.
Rugs, patchwork quilts, a coffee table Walker had made himself… Big
couch, two cushy chairs, a kitchenette for basic cooking, and lastly, the
smallest bathroom known to man underneath the stairs that led to the loft.
“Damn. This is my style.” Joshua was impressed.
I removed my shoes and set down the groceries.
“Oh wow, it’s so cozy here!” Gael exclaimed. “I love it. You’re gonna
love it here also, General. Yes, you are.”
What I loved was that boy’s newfound exuberance. Such a stark
contrast to the timidness of yesterday.
I closed the door behind us, just in time for Gael to notice the kinky
items that blended in with the environment. Like the wooden X-cross and
leather cuffs on the wall next to the fireplace, the floggers and whips that
hung on the wall farthest in, and the shelves next to the floggers that had
boxes in different sizes labeled dildos, plugs, rope, “definitely not poppers,”
aftercare, clamps, blindfolds, wax melts, and cleaning supplies.
Gael spun around with wide eyes, but Joshua was busy filling the little
fridge underneath the kitchen counter, so the boy turned to me instead.
Wait till he saw the sleep loft. Mattresses covered most of the floor,
along with two dressers filled with sex toys, and the tilted ceiling had
beams prepared for suspension bondage.
“Macklin spent more time hosting orgies than actually participating in
them when he nursed his Walker heartbreak,” I told the boy, amused.
“There isn’t much in the kink department we won’t find in here.”
“Heh.” Gael rubbed the back of his neck and blushed as he took in the
scene again. “I feel like I just walked into the lion’s den.”
 I smiled.
“Wait!” Gael froze and looked like he’d solved a big math problem.
“On the forum, there’s a group for the Little Maid Service, and they have a
pinned list of prices for cleaning. The most expensive item costs $200, and
it’s called A Full Cabin 4. Is that because of this?”
Joshua and I cracked up and exchanged a look. That was too funny. I’d
heard about the cleaning service Ivy and Gretchen ran, but I’d never seen a
price list.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” I chuckled. “To our advantage, Macklin’s
also pedantic, and as soon as someone’s spent the night here, he has
everything cleaned and treated. Walker’s just as meticulous about all things
leather.” I pointed to the floggers. “He’s made most of them.”
Now that my brother and Macklin were back together, this cabin would
see fewer strangers—if any—and more action from the same four people.
I’d only met Ty and Lane briefly, but Walker and Macklin were very fond
of them.
“Holy crapamoly.” Gael shook his head in wonder.
General meowed and headbutted the carrier door, which snapped Gael
out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind, and he bent down
to let the cat out.
I tossed my bags on the couch and shrugged out of my coat.
“Coffee, Dean?” Joshua asked.
“I wouldn’t mind a cup. Thank you.” I pushed up the sleeves of my
pullover and sat down on the couch. Then I retrieved my phone and kept
Gael in my periphery; he was curious and climbing the stairs to take a peek
at the loft.
I sent Macklin and Walker a message in our group chat.
Bless him, Gael has spotted the orgy toys in the cabin.
“Mattresses everywhere!” Gael gasped. “Oh my gosh, imagine the
sleepovers.”
“No need to imagine them, baby,” Joshua responded with a smirk.
“We’re gonna have a lot of fun here.”
That filled me with both dread and impatience.
Macklin replied to my text.
Feel free to use them, Sir. Everything’s clean!
He added a kissy face emoji, and I shook my head in amusement.
 I preferred to use my own toys, not that I had very many, but I wouldn’t
mind strapping Gael to the cross and turning his skin red. If he was into
that, of course. I didn’t know. It was rarely an issue for me because I wasn’t
into anything that most called extreme. I loved a good ol’ over-the-knee
spanking and sensual flogging.
The service Dom in me could definitely crank it up for a masochist; it
just didn’t bring me any more pleasure than something milder.
That was another thing Joshua and I had commiserated over together,
how we both had a reputation for being strict Doms. Apologies, that was
simply my personality. The high-protocol I enjoyed was more about me
being selfish. I liked having my sub at my feet. I wanted my fingers in his
hair and his attention on me. I picked affection over pranks any day of the
week.
Gael returned downstairs and skipped over to help Joshua in the
kitchenette, and I couldn’t help but compare the boy to a brat I’d played
with briefly before the holidays. Noa was in this community too; he lived
with his three partners, and he and his Daddy Dom sometimes engaged in
group play. That puppy… What a handful. Cuter than words, genuine and
sweet, but boy, he’d tuckered me out mentally.
It would be interesting to see how far Gael went on the brat scale. Far
enough to have Joshua so whipped, undoubtedly. He loved brats.
Brats gave him energy, which they’d probably stolen from me.
Gael didn’t strike me as a brat on Noa’s level, however.
We’d have to wait and see. Gael was still coming out of his shell.
My phone buzzed with another message, and I was surprised to see it
was from Walker. I’d thought he was busy at work.
Macklin tells me I’d enjoy playing with Santiago.
Hmm. You have your own playthings, little brother. He had a husband,
slave, and primal play in Macklin, a boyfriend in Ty, and a primal masochist
in Lane. On the other hand…I did like group play and letting go of all my
inhibitions.
I could see why Macklin had mentioned Joshua to Walker. Joshua didn’t
have a submissive bone in him, but he did enjoy bottoming for Tops who
went rough.
Wonderful. Suddenly, I was picturing Walker and me taking Joshua
together, with Macklin and Gael watching before they joined us. Fucking
hell. I adjusted my cock discreetly and peered over at Joshua and Gael.
They were preparing a snack too, it looked like. In between kisses and soft
laughter at whatever they were whispering about.
I responded to Walker.
You’d enjoy it more than when you and I played, because he will
actually surrender.
See how he’d like that. I smirked to myself, fully prepared for a
hothead’s reply. That was my brother in a nutshell. The fanciest suits by
day, impossible to ruffle his feathers, but once the gloves came off… And I
knew what buttons to push where he was concerned.
The games he and I had played when we’d been younger had probably
not been what one would describe as safe or sane. Of course, it’d all started
with alcohol. I’d been home on leave from the Navy; he had been in
college, sick of school, full of testosterone. We’d missed each other, and
we’d been incapable of expressing it without a fight, which had led to
something entirely different.
The concept of if you can take it, it’s yours had been born.
My brother answered, and it was flirtier than I would’ve expected.
The fight is half the fun ;)
Macklin was quick to jump in.
Don’t make me hard when I’m at the restaurant, Sirs. Save it for a
group-play date. Speaking of, please set one up!
Fuck, we might as well.
Walker’s final text gave me a time frame.
Before February’s over. After that, I will be busy as hell for a while.
Macklin had to get one in too.
Master sets my limits. Just tell me where to show up and when, and
I’ll be there, hopefully to watch you two take Santiago. Then we can
bukkake the fuck out of Gael. Just a thought. I gotta go back to work. See
you at dinner, Master. Lock that shit down, Dean! With Gael and
Santiago, I mean. Go for it. XO
Go for it.
Right.
I was going to “go for it.” I was going to go for a playtime dynamic.
Period.
When Joshua and Gael filled the coffee table with beverages, little
sandwiches, fruit, cheese, and cucumber sticks, I was struck with guilt. I’d
just been sitting here like a comfortable tool.
“I see I have to up my game.” I cleared my throat and sat forward a bit.
“Are we allowed to leave the premises for a meal, Daddy Joshua? If so, I’d
like to take y’all to dinner.”
“Daddy Joshua,” Gael laughed. “That’s so funny.”
There had to be something wrong with him. Nobody had ever accused
me of being funny.
“I’m sure we can work something out, pet, but I’ve got dinner covered
for tonight.” Joshua sat down on the other end of the couch and patted the
middle spot for Gael. “I’m making beef stir-fry.”
Fair enough. Tomorrow, then.
“So what is it we’re going to do here?” I wondered. “There has to be
something other than just being bait around campus I can assist with. What
else did the credit card information give you?”
Joshua shifted in his seat so he leaned back against the armrest. “Not
much, to be honest. He’s careful. He only uses the credit card for gas and
when he picked up the rental, so I don’t know where he’s staying or where
he eats.” He helped Gael open his juice box while the boy munched on a
cucumber sticks as if it were cake.
Chewable water, no thank you.
I’d been cursed with both diabetes and a severe sweet tooth. Walker
liked to say it was a good thing I had the self-discipline of a warrior,
whatever that meant, but I still suffered every single day. Of course, it was
made worse by the fact that I couldn’t cook worth a damn, so whenever I
got hungry, I had to fight the urge to buy something I wasn’t allowed to eat.
“You brought work with you, didn’t you?” Joshua asked.
I nodded once and bit into a sandwich. It was gone in two bites, but it
was damn delicious. Turkey, crisp lettuce, tomato, and cream cheese. The
bread tasted heavenly.
“I suppose I can get started on an article I’ve been postponing,” I said.
“May I ask what it’s about, Sir?” Gael wondered.
“Of course.” I chewed what was in my mouth and swallowed before I
continued. “I’m part of a research study that compares soldiers from World
War II to post-9/11 Afghanistan. From PTSD symptoms and government
rapid action—or lack thereof—to parents who received a flag instead of
their home-coming child.”
Some things never changed.
“That sounds heavy,” he murmured. “So that’s what you’re writing
about?”
I half nodded and took another sandwich. “It’s a part of a series. This
one will dive into the hero status we cling to in order to justify the loss of a
soldier’s life, so you can imagine why I’m reluctant to write it.”
“Yikes.” He winced. “Yeah. I don’t envy you. That’s what’s so
conflicting about war—and loving to read about it, for that matter—because
I hate that it exists, I constantly want to understand it, I admire those who
are willing to risk everything, I get angry and emotional when people are
disrespectful to those who sacrificed too much, and…it’s just a big mess in
my head!” He gulped in a breath. “It’s like thinking about how big the
universe is. Once you’re comfortable in your opinion, you have a little
voice going, but consider this…? In the end, I’m split between, yeah,
they’re definitely heroes and what a waste of a life and what would we do
without their sacrifices? Cuz it’s not like we can get politicians to go to the
front lines.”
I flashed a grin at the last part, unable to help it, and brushed a few
crumbs off my sweater. He wasn’t the first one whose thoughts mirrored my
own, but he was part of a small group, especially for being so young. Even
more so now, when we lived in an age where nuance was becoming extinct.
“I guess that’s why I keep inhaling books.” He shrugged slightly. “I
keep hoping if I just read more, I’ll either come to grips with all the
conflicting feelings, or I’ll find an easier answer.”
I smiled, loving this glimpse into his mind.
“Are you absolutely sure about dropping the class, Gael?” Joshua had
noticed the same passion I had, of course.
Gael turned to him and grabbed another cucumber stick. “Yes, Sir.”
Then he turned back to me. “I’m kind of hoping for more of this instead.
I’m not in school to get a degree. I’m there to learn, and if I happen to know
the best history professor in the world, maybe I can convince him to teach
me stuff outside the classroom?”
When he buttered me up like that, how could I resist?
“It would be my pleasure.” That wasn’t a lie either. I loved my job, and
if someone wanted to talk to me about it, I was happy to oblige.
 If that someone happened to a boy like Gael, that was the biggest bonus.
Plus, the way he lit up…
“Thank you so much, Sir! You just made my day.”
I smiled and—
“You know what, chiquito?” Joshua leaned forward and kissed Gael’s
cheek, though his gaze locked with mine. “I think you should give the nice
professor a thank-you kiss.”
Game on, darling.
I could roll with the punches—though it was ridiculous how swiftly my
focus shifted to take, need, want, claim. History discussions? Forgotten. All
I saw was a suddenly timid boy who blushed and squirmed against his
Daddy.
“But, ohhh, what if he doesn’t want it, Daddy?” he whispered
pleadingly.
Oh, I wanted.
I draped an arm along the back of the couch and turned toward them a
bit more. “Would Daddy really put you up to something that might result in
rejection, little one?”
He glanced at me shyly and shook his head. “Probably not, Sir.”
Probably not, no.
So, come to me, sweet boy.
He didn’t need further prompting; he didn’t need a reminder to be
obedient. He left the safety of Joshua’s arms and shifted closer to me,
nervousness radiating from him. We’d fix that in a jiffy. He had nothing to
be nervous about. Well, not when it came to my desire for him.
I tracked his every movement on the couch, and he didn’t look away
from me.
“Closer.” I reached out and touched his cheek.
It was warm and soft under my touch, and I wanted much more.
A beat later, he was on all fours right next to me, and I watched him
lean in to kiss me. I smiled faintly the very second before his lips brushed
against mine, and that was the moment I took over. I kissed him slowly and
repositioned us so my legs were stretched out along the couch and he was
straddling me. The final shift of his leg over my lap earned me a cute little
“oh” before he timidly slipped his hands around my neck.
I nipped at his bottom lip. “Are you going to tell me the real reason you
decided to drop my class?”
 He sucked in a quick breath. “Um, because my Daddy really likes you,
and I don’t want you to have to wait if you wanna be together.”
It fit his profile to exclude himself from that equation; I just didn’t like
it.
“I see.” I cupped his cheek and inched away, brushing my thumb over
his lips. “Selflessness is always a lovely trait, but I think your Daddy wants
you to consider yourselves a package deal.”
“He does.” Joshua came up behind Gael and kissed his neck.
The boy shuddered violently. “It’s not completely selfless,” he protested
weakly. “I want this very much, Sir.”
Now we’re talking.
“Want what, exactly?” I kissed him teasingly and grabbed his jaw so he
couldn’t take more than I offered.
He whimpered as Joshua unbuttoned the boy’s pants and slipped a hand
down to his cock. “The three of us playing, Sir. You. I-I want you.”
I took a deep breath and let the satisfaction course through me. “That’s
what I wanted to hear, pet.” I kissed him again, deeper and harder his time,
and I released my hold on him, wanting to find out, to feel, how badly he
wanted this.
He didn’t disappoint. He plastered himself to me and threw himself into
the kiss, and I tasted cucumber and grape juice on his tongue. Perfect for a
sweet Little I couldn’t wait to overwhelm.
Fuck, he felt good on my lap. I gripped his hips, pulling him closer, over
my cock, then reached back and squeezed his perfect little ass. His jeans
had to go. I wanted to get my hands on him good and proper.
“I suggest we take this upstairs,” Joshua said. “I want us naked in sixty
seconds.”
Excellent idea.
“I don’t suppose y-you want to make it dark upstairs,” Gael said
breathlessly.
“You suppose correctly.” I’d had a feeling this would come. “I wanna
see every sexy inch of you.”
“Just like I did last night.” Joshua leaned forward and kissed Gael
hungrily. “I’ll never let you hide from us, baby.”
“Okay,” the boy mumbled. “As long as you’re sure.”
We’d make him sure too.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 8

Gael Grimes

F unny how things could work out. Hiding with two amazing Doms had
never made me feel more exposed—but it felt so good that I was
shaking. It was as if they liberated me from old ghosts that’d latched on to
me, one by one, over the years. Daddy and Master Dean chased them away.
Oh God.
I arched my back and dug my head into the pillow as Daddy kissed his
way down my chest. Pleasure crashed into the discomfort of being naked;
they just didn’t let me feel bad, and I didn’t want to either. The energy that
body issues stole from me was better placed with these two men. I wanted
to serve them, please them, make them come, and blow their minds.
The second Daddy sucked my dick into his mouth, Dean swallowed my
moan by kissing me hard.
Sensory overload!
Two sets of hands on me, their greed, their dominance—I was just
gonna check out and go with it. Throw myself into every situation and give
all I had.
I slipped my fingers up into Dean’s hair and scratched his scalp lightly,
and he hummed into the drugging kiss. He used his tongue so sensually that
I couldn’t stop shivering. Add Daddy’s mouth on my cock, and I was
useless. But I couldn’t afford to be!
“I wanna please you,” I gasped.
“You’ll do what we tell you, and right now, we want you to relax and let
us warm you up.” Dean’s low voice shook me to the core.
 Okay, they could do whatever they wanted with me.
I whimpered as Daddy hummed around my dick, sending a tingling
sensation up my spine. I sought out Dean again and kissed him as hard as I
could, and I clung to him, not wanting his body away from mine for a
second. He was so freaking sexy that it hurt to look at him. All man, stocky
and firm, with chest hair and… The white patch attached to his bicep
distracted me for a moment, and I grunted and squirmed until I could reach
up and kiss it. That thing monitored his glucose levels, so I was thankful for
it.
“Sweet boy.” Dean captured my mouth in another kiss and rubbed my
chest in unhurried strokes.
Then he reached down and combed his fingers through Daddy’s hair,
and I had to see it. I breathed too heavily for kissing anyway, and it seemed
Dean wanted to watch as well.
Daddy withdrew slowly and gave the tip of me an openmouthed kiss
that caused me to tremble, before he kissed his way up my body, and then
we were making out. All of us. Oh my God, oh my God, this was the life. I
inched back, my head returning to the pillow, and I stared. I didn’t even
wanna blink! Watching them kiss so erotically—I couldn’t describe what it
did to me. But it looked so right.
“I’ve waited for this,” Daddy whispered.
“Me too.” Dean deepened the kiss at the same time as he brushed his
fingertips over my cock, up and down, teasing me. Revving me up. Until
they brought me back into their fold. Daddy swept his tongue around mine
as Dean kissed the corner of my mouth, and it was like my brain short-
circuited when I tasted them at once.
I needed more.
Everything.
It was so unfair that they had better reach than I did. They were so tall!
“Gael, you can go grab a bottle of lube and two condoms from the left-
side dresser—top drawer,” Dean instructed.
“Yes, Sir,” I panted. I scrambled out from underneath them, only a little
huffy about Dean insisting on protection for himself. I mean, Daddy hadn’t
been subtle when he’d hinted to Dean that we wanted to be unprotected
with steady partners. Like, hint, hint, Daddy totally wants you to go steady
with us, Master Dean.
 But Dean had said something like “Don’t make this even harder for
me.” So what did that mean? Were we convincing him? Daddy had warned
that Dean had lost faith in finding more.
If I allowed myself to be vulnerable for a moment, I had to admit I
wanted to try this triad thing very badly. But it had to be with Daddy and
Master Dean, nobody else. I just liked them both so much, and like Daddy
had said—it was all about trying. We couldn’t predict the future. Except…if
we didn’t give it a go, we definitely wouldn’t make it.
After snatching up two condoms and a bottle of lube from the dresser, I
paused on my way back. Mattresses were lined against one another across
the entire floor, and Dean had just rolled on top of Daddy on one. They
shared a soft grin and a kiss.
“I’ve missed you,” Dean admitted.
Daddy touched Dean’s cheek. “I missed you too, cariño. I wish you
wasn’t so stubborn.”
I was struck with a hard blow of passion and understanding and
admiration toward Kit. I got what he meant now, how he wanted to protect
the bond between Colt and Lucas. Daddy and Dean may not have ten years
of commitment between them, but they had longing and feelings that’d
developed slowly over time. They’d always wondered what if.
Oh, I needed this to work!
“I think you’ve broken my resolve enough for one day,” Dean
murmured.
Hardly! Daddy and I were going to break it completely, shatter it, and
stomp on the remnants.
In the meantime, so be it, he could wear a condom when he played with
Daddy and me. Blah! Not that I didn’t care about safety—I did, very much
—but we’d covered that bit. Daddy had started by asking if we had
anything to worry about, to which Dean had said he always wore
protection. And that had prompted Daddy’s blunt hint.
It was about Dean’s comfort too, though. If he preferred protection, we
respected that.
Daddy glanced over at me. “What’re you waiting for, chiquito? Come
over here so we can get to work on Dean’s stubbornness.”
I grinned and hurried over.
Dean chuckled huskily and rose up on his knees between Daddy’s legs.
They were so goddamn hot together.
 “Condoms for the stubborn Master.” I held the two packets for him.
“Thank you, dear. Before I put one on, though, I want your sweet little
mouth on my cock.”
Gosh, yes!
Daddy rumbled a chuckle. “Gael might have a case of oral fixation.”
I flushed and got down on my knees next to him.
“Music to my ears.” Dean stood up and gripped his cock loosely, and
my mouth watered at the sight.
Daddy cursed and pushed himself up on one elbow, and he played with
himself too.
“Let me hear you ask sweetly, pet,” Dean murmured.
I could totally do that.
I peered up at him. “May I please suck your cock, Master Dean?”
Seeing the dark desire brewing in his eyes gave me a dose of confidence. It
made me wanna be bolder. “I’m ready to beg whenever you want, Sir.
That’s how much I want to service you.”
He clenched his jaw and nodded once, so I closed the distance between
us and made sure to maintain eye contact as I gripped the base of his big,
hard cock and licked the slit.
He inhaled deeply and eased his fingers into my hair. “What an
intoxicating sight. Take as much of me as you can.”
Finally.
I opened wide and sucked him in, and I closed my eyes and let the wave
of utter bliss wash over me. The same feeling had struck this morning when
I’d sucked Daddy, and I couldn’t explain it. I coated him with my tongue
over and over, tracing every inch, every ridge, and tightened my lips around
him.
I got lost in what I was doing. Right then and there, my one purpose on
this earth was to suck Master Dean’s cock, and I didn’t let my gag reflex
decide when I couldn’t take more. I focused super hard and breathed
through my nose till I could relax my throat, if only a little. I had to go
slowly when he hit the back of my throat, but he didn’t seem to be in a
hurry.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “It’s okay if you choke,
little boy. I like that.”
Then I was golden!
 I gagged a little again, and I held his base tighter. Tears welled up, an
automatic reaction, and I coughed and made up for it by sucking harder.
Then I looked up at him, and he sucked in a breath and shook his head.
“Perfect—my fucking God—that’s perfect,” he murmured. “Come look
at this, darling.”
Daddy scrambled to his feet, and my vision grew too blurry, though I
could see he was stroking himself. It was so hot.
“Amazing boy,” Daddy praised me.
I closed my eyes again and returned all my focus to Dean’s cock.
Wanting him to feel free to fuck my mouth, I slipped my hands up the backs
of his thighs and urged him on.
He liked that.
He fisted my hair, just enough to make it sting a little, and pushed his
cock deeper.
It was the start of a mindfucky dance that pulled me between euphoria
and a bizarre version of panic. A safe version, if such a thing existed.
Because I knew he wouldn’t hurt me or let me go without air for too long,
so the bursts of sharp worry faded as quickly as they struck. Over and over,
in and out, deeper and deeper, then shallow thrusts that came harder and
faster.
“Get lower—I gotta fuck him,” I heard Daddy say.
No! I almost cried out when Dean eased his cock out of my way. I
couldn’t take it! I needed it back! Luckily, he let me closer as soon as his
knees hit the mattress, and then I was back to nursing from his cock. I loved
it so much, how the smooth skin slid along my tongue, how the saltiness of
his pre-come caused more saliva to pool in my mouth, and his groans that
grew louder whenever I swallowed.
“Fuck, you were made for this, boy,” he grunted.
I nodded and sucked him for all I was worth.
I startled when I suddenly felt a wet, slippery finger circle my butt. I
was still sore from this morning, but the added sensitivity made me greedy
too. I pushed back, and Daddy slowly forced two fingers inside me.
I whimpered breathlessly around Dean’s cock and white-knuckled the
mattress.
When Daddy decided I was ready for his cock, it hit me that I was
clinging to a semblance of composure, and that wouldn’t work. I couldn’t
struggle against the tears and drool at the same time as I was a perfect fuck-
toy for Daddy and Dean. I just couldn’t. I had to let go.
“Let’s try somethin’.” Dean stilled my head. “Clear your throat, little
one. Take a deep breath.”
I gasped, that’s what I did. I gasped and gulped and tried to regain my
breathing, all while Daddy pushed against my opening. I sniffled too, and I
wiped my mouth.
“Now. Take me in slowly. All the way.” Dean’s commanding stare
seared into me, and I couldn’t look away from him. I sucked him in slowly,
making sure I could breathe through my nose. “Amazing,” he whispered.
“You’re such a good little boy for me.”
A hot rush of pleasure coursed through me, and I pushed forward until
his big cock was stuffing my throat.
He cursed, out of breath, and held me in place. “Steady breaths through
your nose. We’ll keep still like this until Daddy’s buried all the way in your
tight little hole.”
I whimpered. Fuck, I was so hard and needy.
Daddy went slowly too, kissing my spine lovingly as he entered me.
“You love this, don’t you, baby? Fucked by Daddy and throat-fucked by
your professor.”
Oh my God.
A dark, wicked glint appeared in Dean’s eyes. “That a fact? Did you
have filthy thoughts about me in class?”
It was bad to lie, right?
I managed a small nod. If I moved too much, I would spiral. The burn
from Daddy’s cock, the panic that lurked in the background, whispering to
me that I couldn’t take my next breath for granted as long as I had my
professor’s cock buried in my throat.
“Well…” Dean brushed a stray tear from my cheek. “Perhaps I should
join the Academy event after all, so I can show you what happens when you
act like a whore around your professor.”
Kill me.
Fucking kill me! If I were a dog, I’d be humping air by now. Yes, yes,
yes, yes, please sign up for the event! Then Daddy and I could do the same!
We hadn’t talked about it; maybe Dean assumed we had.
“Now that you’ve said it, you can’t fuckin’ go back on your word,”
Daddy told Dean. “It’s settled. We’ll do the event together.”
 Kinky heaven, take me now. Hell, I was already there.

I gasped.
I pleaded.
Oops, I almost rolled over Dean’s snack. His glucose levels had dropped
at some point…but Daddy had fetched him food. And a—oh, gross. Wet
towels. We had some of those too now, so we could clean off.
I moaned.
I almost lost consciousness when it was Daddy’s turn to deep-throat me.
They had to remind me to use my safewords, but I wasn’t anywhere
near ready to limit anything. The pleasure and pain mingled like the most
intoxicating drug, and it wasn’t the kind of pain I’d expected. Like, when
I’d watched subs get whipped and stuff at the club. This was different. It
was how roughly they grabbed at me when we rolled around together on the
mattresses, how they gripped my jaw and kissed me brutally hard, how their
pelvises slapped against my bottom when they fucked me.
My skin was marked with red blotches, and I had never felt so alive.
Moments later, Daddy’s hot come flooded my mouth, and the air was
filled with his groan, my choking sounds, and Dean’s heavy breaths as he
fucked me from behind.
When Daddy collapsed on the mattress, Dean pulled me down and
repositioned us so we were both on our sides, with him behind me. He
hiked an arm under my leg, then shoved his cock back inside me, and I
cried out hoarsely. I was fucking swimming in sex. My composure was long
gone. I was just delirious. Moaning, crying, sobbing, begging for more,
squirming, writhing.
Dean hissed and nipped at my cheek, to which I turned to him, and we
met in a breathless, messy kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, and we
moaned. He was tasting Daddy on me.
“I want your come too,” I whimpered, sniffling pitifully. “So, so, so
badly.”
“You’re too tempting.” He let out a harsh breath and buried his face
against my neck. “Fuck, Gael. You feel so goddamn good. Fuck.” He pulled
out abruptly, and I yelped at the fiery burn. With zero time to wonder what
was going on, I just stared as he got up on his knees next to me, tossed aside
the condom, and stroked his glistening cock. “Be a good little student and
open your mouth. I want to see your tongue.”
I obeyed immediately, while Daddy slid down my body and sucked me
into his mouth again.
I cried out—so close, so close, so close! I couldn’t hold back. Dean
started coming all over my face and neck, and the pleasure exploded inside
me. I reached out blindly, grabbing Daddy’s hair and Dean’s thigh, and the
orgasm crashed down on me. It was too much and not enough at once. I
couldn’t breathe, I wanted everything to stop, I wanted more, I felt so achy
all over, and I was just a feverish mess.
The aftershocks of shudders rocked through me afterward, and I could
no longer move. How Daddy and Dean managed, I had no idea. Daddy was
eager to drop openmouthed kisses across my face, and I giggled
breathlessly and squirmed because it tickled.
“That sound—I can’t get enough of it.” He gave me a loud smooch. “I
don’t think you’ve ever been so beautiful either. Freshly fucked and sticky
with come.”
“And deliciously naked like he should be.” Dean kissed my neck, and
that tickled too. Their scruff! It was their scruff!
Daddy hummed in agreement. “I reckon we need a shower now.”
That sounded good, except for the part where we had to get dressed and
walk up to the main house, ’cause most of the cabins only had toilets and
sinks.

Um, where was my exhaustion?

“Boop.” I pressed the button and hightailed it to the next shower as the
water started gushing down. I laughed. The game was to get out of the way
before I got hit by the water.
I’d never been in this room before. Both shower rooms were on the
second floor of the main house, positioned next to each other, and Daddy
and Master Dean had picked the one that was all black. All of it! Floor to
ceiling, covered in black rubber. They called it the watersports room. Three
walls were lined with showers, and there were even two in the ceiling, at
the very center.
“Boop!” I pressed another one, then skidded across the room. Sadly, the
soft-ish rubber floor didn’t get slippery when wet. That would’ve been fun,
to just slide around in here.
“Young sir, come here and so we can get you soaped up,” Daddy
chuckled. “You little clown.”
I grinned and pushed one more button. “I have so much energy!”
Dean smirked. “To be twenty-three again.” Then he narrowed his eyes
playfully at me and hooked a finger in a silent come to me.
I went to him, and they pulled me in under the hot spray.
“There we go.” Daddy kissed the top of my head and began soaping me
up from behind.
I was so in love with this moment. So happy, so alive.
“Owww!” And so sore! Oh my goodness, talk about delayed reaction!
“Can we please make it colder?” The hot water felt like fire on my skin.
“Fuck—I’m sorry, baby. Come here.” Daddy pulled me away from the
water.
Dean lowered the temperature, the valve squeaking when he twisted it.
“Let’s inspect his skin. I recognize my handprint when I see it.”
What? I turned and tried to look at my own butt, ’cause he’d spent a lot
of time there today, but I only saw the same blotches from before.
“Darlin’ boy, you bruise like a peach.” All of a sudden, Dean sounded
more Southern than usual. I knew he’d been taken in by his foster family in
Tennessee, but most of the time, the accent was barely there.
He and Daddy were undeterred and insisted on washing me from head
to toe, all while inspecting every inch and murmuring to each other about
where they were going to put ointment on my skin. I thought ointment was
a bit excessive; they disagreed firmly.
So I just stood there in the lukewarm water, squirming when something
tickled, wincing when things got achy.
“Can you tell Daddy what your perfect aftercare would look like right
now?” Daddy removed the showerhead from the mount and tipped back my
head.
I closed my eyes as he rinsed off the suds from the shampoo. “Umm.
Probably snuggles and TV and ice cream.”
 He smiled down at me and kissed my forehead. “We’ll make that
happen. What do you wanna watch? Pixar movie? Marvel? Or are you a
Star Wars boy?”
I snickered and squinted for the water gushing down. “How about Band
of Brothers?”
“Oh, a peach after my own heart.” Dean gave me a tight squeeze from
behind that made me laugh, partly at him and partly at Daddy’s deadpan
expression.
“He’s a fuckin’ mini-Dean,” Daddy stated flatly.
I grinned goofily.

Band of Brothers for the win!

Daddy insisted he go out on his own to buy ice cream, because he had
to “talk to Reese and the others anyway,” so he placed Dean in charge of me
until he was back.
I kicked off my shoes and began preparing coffee for Dean while he dug
out his laptop. Macklin didn’t have a TV in his cabin, but I didn’t mind
watching movies on a laptop. I did that at home sometimes, even though I
had a small flat-screen.
I snuck a glance at Dean as I waited for the coffee.
He’d put on comfy clothes too, though he still managed to look
distinguished and super handsome in his dark-green-and-marine-blue-plaid
flannel bottoms and a matching marine tee. I could totally see him at home
like that, with his chesterfield couch, million books, and open fire. I’d even
spotted an old-fashioned drink cart at his place.
General jumped up on the couch and found a resting spot on the
armrest.
“I don’t suppose we need to order a cleaning until we leave,” Dean said,
“but we should change the sheets.”
“Yes, Sir. I can do that,” I replied. I remembered Ivy telling me where
they had a washing machine and dryer in the main house. “Would you like a
snack, Sir?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He sat down on the couch and logged in to his
laptop. “You can bring the ointment we used at the house. I’d like to have
another look at the marks on your neck.”
“Yes, Sir.” I turned around and smiled to myself. For the first time, I
completely understood all the subs online who liked to post photos of their
marks. They felt so good! Like a collar.
When I joined him with coffee, the lotion, and a Sprite Zero for myself,
he was ready with a thick, soft blanket, and his disarming smile gave me the
nervous butterflies.
No wonder Daddy wanted Dean to turn our relationship into a triad.
Playtime had been like a dream come true in more ways than just fantasies
and kinky fun. My own crush on Dean had intensified, and part of it
stemmed from watching him and Daddy together. The affection between
them was beautiful—and worth protecting.
I sat still as Dean brushed his fingertips across the back of my neck and
down toward my front.
It tickled a little in a good way and made me shiver.
“Are you positive we didn’t go too far, pet?”
“A gazillion percent,” I said. “I love the grabby hands.”
He let out a chuckle. “Good. So do I. And you do mark so beautifully.”
He dipped down and kissed my neck, causing another shiver to run through
me. “Our little peach. I think that’ll be your new nickname.”
Soon as he straightened again, I looked up at him. Could he say such
things and feel nothing? Was this just playtime for him?
For once, I didn’t hesitate a bunch. I had to ask. “Do you not want to try
dating with us, Sir?”
His smile softened and turned a tad rueful. “It’s not about what I want,
dear. I’m a practical man, and I struggle to see how we would work long-
term. With our age difference, we can’t be on the same page in life.”
I scrunched my nose. “What page are you on?”
“The epilogue just started,” he joked. “I don’t know, to be honest. Let’s
just say I don’t enjoy the things I could tolerate in my twenties. I don’t go
clubbing, I won’t set foot in a hostel, I’m not very flexible with my time,
long walks are the extent of my exercise regimen, not a warm-up for a
ridiculous cross-fit session—”
I gigglesnorted because he was so funny—and he had the oddest view
on what young people liked!
“Oh, you think that’s funny?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
 “Yeah,” I laughed. “Daddy and I pillow-talked about hobbies last night,
and he’s way more adventurous than I am. Did you know that he likes rock-
climbing and bouldering? I made him a promise to try bouldering, but I was
like, I can prepare the picnic while you climb.”
He grinned slightly, the fondness he had for Daddy clear in his eyes.
“I’ve heard of his daredevil ways.”
Uh-huh. “Does that mean he and I aren’t on the same page in life?” I
wondered. “I love to hike out in nature and take walks through parks and
museums—he prefers to climb mountains and go mountain-biking in rough
terrain. But when we talked about it, we didn’t see any issues. You know?
Like, we can walk together, talk and stuff, and then he can take on a
cliffside or whatever while I sit at the bottom on a blanket and read.”
I could tell he was processing what I’d said, so I continued.
“The only club I’m interested in running through is this one right here in
Mclean,” I said. “I don’t do cross-fit either, and I don’t think I’ve ever set
foot in a hostel. My dream vacation is to visit Verdun in France and go to
the war museum there. Take a million pictures, stroll through the town, and
set my credit card on fire in the museum gift shop.” I didn’t believe we
were on different pages in life for a second. Yeah, he was older,
significantly so, and I wasn’t indifferent toward it, but it wasn’t a stupid
deal-breaker. “I’d also like to go to Bastogne, London, Gettysburg, and
Hawaii.”
His mouth twitched with a pinch of mirth. “I’m sensing a battlefield
theme.”
“You’re a smart cookie!”
That earned me a grin and a shake of his head.
“Daddy wants to show me Costa Rica, the beaches in Spain, and where
he spent his summers in Chile as a child,” I added. “But I love to swim, and
he likes warships and stuff like that, so yeah. I think we’re on the same page
in life because we want to do all these things together. We want to give it a
go and see what happens. And don’t tell Daddy this yet, but—” I leaned
closer, ready to tell him a secret. “I have a vision about his house. It’s too
soon to talk about plainly, but I can totally see a kitchen designed like his
mamá would’ve liked and a big library upstairs for geeks like me. Plus,
maybe I can move my 3-D printer from my grandma’s house in Virginia
Beach. Also, gardening. Daddy loves fresh fruit and vegetables. But this is
between you and me.”
 He smiled faintly, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and I hoped it was
because I’d made him think. I wanted him to see the future Daddy and I
were hoping for. It wasn’t anything outrageous or extravagant. We weren’t
extravagant people. We were just two guys connecting and deciding to build
something together.
“You’re almost a new person compared to the shy boy I met yesterday,”
he murmured.
I pursed my lips and weighed my answer. The shyness was hardly all
gone, but… “I don’t think so. I think you’re seeing more of the guy I was
before Caleb messed me up. You should’ve seen me a year ago. I couldn’t
even work or leave my parents’ house.”
To those around me now, I still came off as timid and socially awkward.
If only they knew. I’d come far by the time I’d decided to leave Berkeley to
start fresh in DC last spring. They didn’t know what a big step it’d been for
me to join House Mclean.
Dean let out a breath and reached for his coffee. “Now I know what the
Germans felt when the Allies came barging in.”
Oh my gosh, I laughed so hard.
It even woke up General, and he gave me a sour look before he jumped
off the couch to go rest elsewhere.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 9

Dean Aavik

W akingGael
up to the smell of fresh coffee and Joshua in my arms…
was missing.
I furrowed my brow and squeezed Joshua to me. Where was the boy?
Oh—the coffee. He must be downstairs already. I yawned, not ready to
open my eyes just yet, and I stretched out a bit. Then I buried my face
against Joshua’s neck and kissed his warm skin.
He let out a sleepy hum, and I stroked his hip, my cock nestled perfectly
against his ass.
Later.
I wanted to see what my peach was up to.
Something clanked downstairs, like a pot against glass, and it was
followed by a whispered, “Oh crap.”
I smiled to myself and, much like yesterday, felt excited for a new day
to begin. Although, I did not look forward to today’s task of putting Gael in
the proverbial line of fire. But since Tuesday hadn’t resulted in any Caleb
sightings, today, Thursday, was step two. Gael was going to return to
campus, despite that he was officially no longer my student.
Careful not to wake up Joshua, I eased away from the mattress the three
of us had shared for three nights now and searched through my bag for an
outfit. I’d have to go home today at some point to fetch more clothes.
Maybe after class.
Joshua and Gael had made loose plans to stay till the end of the week,
and I wasn’t even going to try to fight it—if they wanted me to stick
around.
After putting on a pair of boxer briefs and gathering the clothes I’d wear
today, I headed downstairs and found Gael humming to himself—and
shaking his pajama-clad bottom—by the stovetop. He looked over his
shoulder, presumably hearing the steps creaking.
“Good morning, Master Dean.” He beamed at me. “Breakfast is almost
ready.”
I was so royally screwed.
“Good morning, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.” I ducked into the tiny
bathroom under the stairs and made quick work of relieving myself,
freshening up, getting dressed, and taking my insulin.
The more time I spent with Gael and Joshua, the clearer those images
became. The ones Gael had shoved into my skull. I could just imagine how
wonderful it would feel to show them around Verdun on a crisp fall day
when the trees burned red and orange and the worst of the tourist season
was over. That part of France was stunning in the fall. Perhaps we’d road-
trip to Normandy and Mont Saint-Michel after…
I’d been to all those places Gael dreamed about, though I’d never shared
them with anyone. I’d been there for work, whether I was writing a book,
meeting up with colleagues for a seminar, or I was part of an interview for a
documentary. I’d sat in cafés on my own or with another professor or two.
Just as easily, I could picture springtime hiking in the Shenandoah—
Joshua could get his adrenaline fix somewhere before he joined Gael and
me at a picnic table. Hell, sign me up for a sugar sand beach too. I could
watch Joshua try to teach Gael to surf while I sat comfortably in a beach
chair with a book and a colorful drink.
Unfortunately, I could also foresee restaurant dates where a server
asked, “And what would your son like?”
My chest tightened uncomfortably.
What the fuck was I doing?
I didn’t belong in this fantasy.
I did my best to push down the sharp twinge of grief and left the
bathroom as I tucked my shirt into my pants.
The sound of a wolf whistle made me snap my gaze to Gael, and I was
met by his goofy grin.
“That’s so hot,” he said.
What, my clothes? Regular black slacks and a light-blue button-down.
 I accepted the ego boost and kissed the top of his head. “I prefer a half-
naked bruised little peach, but thank you, pet.”
He didn’t appear nervous about today, but maybe it would come later.
“I prefer the scratch marks on your back,” he replied, blushing a little.
I chuckled and dipped down as he tilted his face up, and I kissed him
quickly—only to change my mind. I wanted more. I cupped his face in my
hands and deepened the kiss, getting a taste of orange juice and something
sweet, maybe strawberries. It wasn’t the bacon sizzling on the stove
anyway.
Gael shuddered and locked his arms around my neck, and he had to
stand on his toes.
Fuck, he was delectable. Such a perfect blend of goofy sweet and
ambitiously subservient. Joshua may have taken control of most of the
cooking, but breakfast was now Gael’s territory, and he went all out.
More hunger surged within me, and I reached down to pick him up. I
had to. With his legs wrapped around me, I walked him over to the kitchen
counter and sat him down on an empty spot. I couldn’t fucking stop kissing
him. Or take my hands off him. My fingers belonged right here, digging
into the soft flesh of his sides or his sexy little ass—
He whimpered and moaned, the sound going straight to my cock, and I
fucking ached for all of him.
“What—” Goddamn. I stopped and had to catch my breath, and I tried
to fight the words tumbling out. Tried and failed. “What will you do when
someone mistakes me for your father?”
He blinked, the fog of lust clearing slowly. “What?”
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, my heart pounding a bit
faster. “If we walk hand in hand down the street, or we’re in a restaurant
about to have dinner together, and someone thinks you’re my son or
something like that.”
I remembered Joshua telling me once that his hair had started turning
gray unusually early—in high school, I believed—but it sure as hell wasn’t
grayer than mine was today. His was still mostly black. Mine was mostly
silver. Same with my chest hair that Gael evidently liked to run his
fingertips through.
Gael searched my eyes, his brows knitting together. “Well. I guess you
need to dye your hair and get Botox because Daddy and I really care about
such things.”
 That little—
“These handsome laugh lines right here…” He traced a finger at the
corner of my eye and down to my mouth. “They got to go.”
Brat.
“And right after,” he continued happily, “you can drive me to get
liposuction.”
Hey, now.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Yeah, sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” He narrowed his eyes right back at
me. “Why would I care about what a server thinks about us? I spent the past
five years worrying, and it cost me most of my happiness.”
I deflated like a balloon right then and there.
“Have a seat on the couch, please, Sir,” he murmured. “I want to get
you your breakfast before the bacon burns.”
I nodded with a dip of my chin and inched back.
Despite the discomfort that kept a fist formed around my chest, what
he’d said meant the world to me. Deep down, I knew I had surrendered—
maybe I’d done that before the first night here. Because all the things that
had followed were already treasured memories. No matter if we’d been
playing together or I’d sat on the couch with my laptop while Gael read and
Joshua cooked. Joshua had run plenty of errands too, which I was sure
revolved around Caleb, but I hadn’t pressed for information.
I’d let this fantasy bubble swallow me whole.
“For being in hiding with you, I feel awfully exposed,” I admitted.
“That’s funny because I thought the same thing the other day, Sir.”
Yes, well. I preferred it when the sub was exposed, not me.
Hmpf.
I sat down on the couch and grabbed my iPad from the coffee table, just
wanting to make sure I had enough battery. Out here, I didn’t have a
newspaper to collect from my mailbox, so the online version would have to
do.
A moment later, Gael came over with a tray for me. Coffee, eggs and
bacon, brown toast, and a small bowl of blueberries and sliced strawberries.
It was turkey bacon, something that sent me in two different directions. It
sure wasn’t as delicious as real bacon, but it was a testament to how much
Gael already cared. Without going to extremes like Macklin sometimes did.
“Enjoy, Master Dean.”
 Just Master is fine, dear.
“Thank you, little peach.” I hadn’t been prepared at breakfast yesterday.
Today, I was. “I think I found a way to show my appreciation,” I said,
pointing to his phone on the table. “Check your email.”
I’d sent him a PDF of the script—well, my part of it—for a
documentary I was participating in this year. I’d found out Gael was
passionate about Cold War documentaries and articles, so this was right up
my alley. The Cold War was my true area of expertise.
Much like yesterday, Gael squirmed his way between my legs so he
could sit on the floor, and it had the same impact on me today. Joshua had
suggested it at first, knowing I liked my sub at my feet. And yet, it felt
entirely new with Gael. Different, more meaningful.
I took a sip of my coffee as he opened the PDF, the title right there, to
which he scrolled quickly through the first few pages.
“Oh my gosh.” He peered up at me with wide eyes. “Is this for the
documentary where you’ll be talking about the K-129?”
I smiled and inclined my head.
“And I can read it before anyone else?” he pressed.
I chuckled. “Well, outside the production crew. Yes.”
“Holy crapamoly! Okay, you eat. I read. Thank you, thank you, thank
you. Now, shush.”
I exhaled a laugh—and allowed myself to be shushed just this one time.
He was too adorable. He got comfortable right there on the floor and
hugged my leg, resting his chin on my knee while he read. It filled me with
a sense of serene peace I’d never experienced before.
It was a wonderful moment. I kept my plate close so I wouldn’t get
crumbs all over him, and I had my iPad resting on my thigh. Every now and
then, in between bites, I combed my fingers through his hair and—
I frowned when I heard Joshua’s phone go off upstairs. It wasn’t his
alarm signal—it was too early for that anyway. Someone was calling him.
His gruff voice followed. “Santiago.” A few seconds of silence came
next. “Are you kiddin’ me? How the fuck do I interpret that?”
Gael cocked his head and looked up at me, visibly confused.
So was I.
“All right,” Joshua replied. “Yeah. I’ll go talk to Dean and Gael. Thanks
for calling me, buddy. We’ll talk soon.”
 Gael and I exchanged another glance, and then we waited. I turned off
my iPad and set my plate on the table to the sound of Joshua cursing and
yawning. Then he trudged down the steps wearing nothing but a pair of
jeans, indescribably sexy, which led me to believe we weren’t in a rush.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Joshua rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t
fuckin’ know, but I don’t think it’s over. Caleb returned his rental at the
airport an hour ago, and then he bought a plane ticket to San Francisco on
his credit card.”
I furrowed my brow, and my mind started spinning. If the douchebag
had been following us, perhaps he’d noticed a change in our patterns…?
We still didn’t know where Caleb had been staying during his weeks in
the DC area, but we did know the car he’d been driving. Thanks to outside
help from someone River and Reese knew, we’d found out it was a silver
Hyundai Accent. An older model.
“This is his MO, Daddy,” Gael said carefully. “He quits when he grows
bored, never when I ask him to. Then he starts up again a couple months
later.”
I flicked a glance at Joshua as he poured himself coffee. He wasn’t
satisfied one bit, and I was inclined to side with him, simply because I’d
been involved this time. It was a first. Caleb had sent a letter to me.
According to Gael, that’d never happened before. And he’d come all the
way here. He’d spent weeks on the East Coast. Simply to go home like
that? No, I didn’t buy it.
Joshua frowned into his mug and poured milk into his coffee. “I guess
we’ll see what happens. I’m gonna call a friend in the Bay Area and see if
he can confirm Caleb’s arrival when the plane lands.”
He didn’t have to spell it out further for me. He was going to keep
watching Caleb.
“And if he’s there?” Gael asked. “What’re we gonna do? Is Master
Dean going home today? Am I? Am I going back to work? I took the week
off, but I guess I could—”
“Slow down, baby—I just woke up.” Joshua sent the boy a wink to
lighten the mood. “For my peace of mind, I’d like it if you stayed with me
for a few days. At least till I get a sense of Caleb’s next move. If he really
does go back home, it’ll be easier to track his movements. He goes to work,
we know where he lives, and so on.”
 I thought that was a good idea. Gael shouldn’t be alone yet.
“But what about Master Dean, Daddy?” The boy actually pouted. First
at Joshua, then up at me. “Can’t you come with us to Daddy’s house?”
Goddamn.
I looked to Joshua for help, which…well, that was stupid.
“I’m pouting internally,” he said and took a sip of his coffee.
I…
Wait, why was I fighting this? I’d already lost the war. It was just my
dumbass default mode to argue. God, I was a fool sometimes.
I suppressed a sigh at myself and stroked Gael’s cheek. “I’d be happy
to.”

With Caleb presumably out of DC, Gael opted to go with Joshua to pick up
paint and wallpaper for a weekend of working around the house. I caught a
ride into town with River, who was heading in to pick up Shay anyway.
Their boy had spent the night at his aunt’s place—where his younger
brothers lived, I learned.
Once I’d been dropped off at home, I proceeded with my day as usual,
with the exception that I was itching for what came after work. Class was
no longer the highlight of my day. The two hours after class, when students
could come talk to me in my office, I was ticking things off my to-do list so
that I would have less to worry about for the weekend. I crossed all my Ts
and dotted every I, until I could finally walk home and pack a new bag.
Valentine’s Day tomorrow. What a bizarre notion that I actually had
plans. Plans that I was going to hijack. I couldn’t say I particularly cared for
the date in general, but I did care about making things clear for Joshua and
Gael.
I sent Joshua a message while I waited for my steamer to warm up. How
my suits sometimes managed to get wrinkled in my closet was a mystery.
I’d like to be in charge of our date tomorrow. Is that all right with
you?
He responded quickly.
Hell, baby. Are we hosting a funeral for your resolve? Of course it’s
all right.
 I laughed under my breath.
That’s one way to look at it. I’ll make dinner reservations. And Gael
can get ready to wear a vibrating egg. See you soon.
Now to find a good restaurant that wasn’t fully booked. I may have to
call in a favor or two…
Such as my troublemaking brother-in-law.

A couple hours later, I parked next to Joshua’s truck. I grabbed my bag and
two suits from the back seat, and that was around the same time Gael
stumbled out onto the porch with paint dotting his tee and sweatpants.
“You’re finally here, Sir! We’re painting the living room!”
Dark blue, I presumed.
“Just put me to work.” I smiled and headed up the path to the porch.
“Daddy can do that,” he snickered. “How was class?”
“Still empty without you there.” I had something better to look forward
to now, though. Endless hours of cuddling with this boy and discussing all
the things we were so passionate about. I unbuttoned my coat and climbed
up the steps. “Give me a kiss.”
He grinned and tilted his head up, and I growled playfully and kissed
him soundly.
To think, this boy would be mine. He actually wanted me, laugh lines
and grays and all.
We found Joshua waiting for us in the doorway, and Gael rushed back
inside with a skip in his step.
Joshua was leaning against the doorframe, his posture casual, but the
look in his eyes revealed something else. Arms folded over his chest, equal
parts severe and welcoming. This doorstep was more than a doorstep.
“He’s gotten attached to you, Dean.”
“It’s mutual.”
He already knew that, though, and it didn’t matter. I recognized a
protective Daddy when I saw one. He wanted to know if a part of me was
still on the fence.
“Are you in or out?”
He couldn’t wait for my bold gesture tomorrow at our date? Hmpf.
 “I’m in.” I leaned in and kissed his jaw. “Balls-deep in.”
He snorted and fought a smile.
I didn’t fight mine. I kissed him closer to his lips. “You successfully
pulled my head out of my ass, darling. Was that what you wanted to hear?”
“Maybe.” Some of the tension left him, and he slipped two fingers
between a couple buttons in my shirt. “I keep telling myself we’re just
gonna try, but I really fucking want this.”
“So we’ll succeed instead.” Because I wanted this too. I needed it.
Terrifying as it was, I was ready to fight. I was ready to risk getting hurt
beyond measure.
He let out a breath and nodded minutely, and I covered his mouth with
mine in a slow kiss.
“You and me,” I murmured, “and our little peach.”
He grinned, at last, and cupped the back of my neck. “Now we’re
talkin’.”

The following evening, I got to take my two dates out to dinner in town.
Underneath our suits, we all had paint that hadn’t come off in the shower,
and I liked it. Every dot of dark blue—and green for Joshua’s bedroom—
was a reminder that I suddenly had a social calendar. I was part of
something bigger that filled me with joy and terror.
I had something to lose.
“I’ve decided something,” Gael announced in the line.
We had two parties in front of us that were also waiting for their table.
“What’s that, little one?” Joshua asked.
Gael tugged at his tie. “I do not like ties.”
I chuckled.
So did Joshua, and he helped Gael remove it. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“But I wanted to try,” the boy huffed. “Dean looks so delicious in his.”
Well, maybe one tie was enough on our little bunch. Joshua rocked a
beautiful vest with his dress pants instead, and Gael had suspenders I found
adorable on him. We looked sharp together, in our own ways.
Once Joshua had pocketed Gael’s tie, the boy pulled out his phone and
said he was going to make a poll on the online forum.
 “About ties?” I asked.
He nodded, busy typing.
Joshua and I exchanged an amused glance. If Gael asked about ties, I
knew what Doms would reply. Ties were wonderful tools.
I grabbed Joshua’s hand and threaded our fingers together.
“His post will get hijacked,” he said under his breath.
I kept my grin to myself and peered ahead of us. It was cold out, but the
host’s area in the restaurant was too full; the line went down the stoop and
out on the sidewalk.
Perhaps I could leave my lurker mode online and actually contribute.
The past couple of days, Gael had begun posting outside the history group,
resulting in comments from fellow goofballs. Slowly but surely, our boy
was taking steps out of the shadow of loneliness, and it made me weirdly
proud. I’d never been part of such a journey before.
Just yesterday after dinner, he’d shouted out in triumph that he had a
brat date planned with Kit, Noa, and Corey. A bout of nervousness had
followed, though he’d shaken it off fairly quickly. He’d also exchanged a
few private messages with Cam, which made me even happier. Gael truly
wanted to explore domestic servitude with me.
I’d given him homework this morning for tonight. I wanted a list of
chores he would like for us to set up a protocol for.
“There. Sent.” Gael pocketed his phone again. “Gosh, I’m so hungry
now.”
Yeah, so was I. I’d taken my insulin in the car, so it wouldn’t surprise
me if my monitor started beeping soon. I’d thought we’d be seated sooner.
“Good thing I’m prepared.” Joshua retrieved a couple candies from his
jacket pocket, and he handed one to Gael and the other to me. I received a
pointed look too, and I didn’t have to ask what it was about. He was
keeping track. In a few days, he’d become well attuned to when I needed to
eat.
I didn’t turn down the opportunity to get a sweet. They were my favorite
too, Werther’s soft toffee with chocolate filling. Which…
I chewed on the candy and eyed Joshua. “Have you been talking to
Walker?”
Aside from my drunken ramble about all the shit that was wrong in my
life those years ago when I’d met Joshua, I’d been tight-lipped about my
condition. Maybe a handful of people in Mclean knew I had diabetes, and
as far as I knew, only my brother walked around with the same type of
candy in case I needed a quick fix.
“It’s possible.” He smiled faintly and adjusted my tie. “He messaged me
after I submitted our names to the Academy event. He and Macklin are
attending too.”
Why would he message Joshua and not me?
“He seems to think you need a Daddy sometimes,” he said, smirking.
Never mind, I got my answer.
Gael found that funny.
“Hmpf.” I looked away from both of them and—thank fuck. I spotted
Macklin next to the host just as he glanced my way, and his eyes flashed
with surprise. Then he quickly gestured for us to approach. “I believe it’s
our turn.”
I ushered Joshua and Gael past the other two couples, and we finally got
to set foot inside the restaurant, where it was significantly warmer.
“Macklin—I’m surprised to see you’re working tonight,” I said.
“My date begins in—” He checked his watch. “Twenty minutes! I’m out
of here in five.” He flashed a quick grin before grabbing three menus from
the desk. “I’m sorry, by the way. I thought you were already seated, Sir.
Come on, I’ll show you your table.” Before I could respond, he inched
closer to the host and pointed at the computer screen. “You can cross off the
Aaviks.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man replied.
It was certainly busy here tonight, and I caught a glimpse of three
intimate, packed dining areas on the ground floor before we began climbing
the creaking steps to the second floor. Gael rushed ahead.
“Hi, Macklin.” Aw, his shyness made a sweet return for the moment.
“Hey, you. Are we finally gonna see you more often?” Macklin was a
natural at making people feel welcome.
“Yeah, I’m done hiding,” Gael responded sheepishly.
“Good.” Macklin sent him a grin as they reached the landing. “I saw
you joined the Domestic Servitude group online. Archie and I are hosting a
pasta-making class here next week—let me know if you want me to add
your name to the list.”
“Oh, I would love to!” Gael turned back to Joshua and me, and the hope
and joy in the boy’s eyes were just too beautiful for words. “May I go,
please?”
 Joshua and I exchanged a brief look. The answer was obvious; we were
just both reveling in his submission.
“You absolutely may,” I answered.
“Thank you!” Gael returned his attention to Macklin, who led the way
to another dining area down the hall. On this floor, it was most evident that
the building had once been residential. The rooms were smaller, some only
fitting three or four tables. “Um, how much is the class, Sir—wait, do I call
you Sir?”
I chuckled under my breath.
Macklin’s smile turned wolfish. “I’d like that very much. The class is
thirty bucks, and you get to bring home a big meal to your Owners.”
Owners.
How I loved the sound of that.
“That’s awesome. I’ll Venmo you—”
“You’ll do no such thing, Gael,” I said firmly, my protest drowning out
Joshua’s. “I will handle that.”
“We will handle that,” Joshua corrected.
If the matter was domestic servitude, surely I could call dibs on
whatever class or get-together Gael wanted to participate in. I wouldn’t
budge on that.
“You’re both fucking adorable,” Macklin said, gesturing to the entrance
of one of the dining areas.
“So are you, pet,” Joshua replied as he walked through with Gael. “It’s
gonna be fun witnessing you as a Top.”
Had they discussed playtime?
“Dean clearly needs to see it—he doesn’t believe I am a Top,” Macklin
laughed.
I shrugged and walked into the room as well, and it had a romantic
atmosphere. Dim lighting, only four tables. Perfect.
As for Macklin… Of course I knew he was a switch, but I was used to
seeing the slave side of him. He worshipped the ground my brother walked
on, and though it was very much mutual, there was no question who was
the Dominant.
While Joshua and Gael got seated at the only available table, Macklin
put a hand on my arm and halted me in the doorway.
He smiled up at me. “Just wanted to say I’m happy for you, Sir. And
don’t screw this up.”
 He had to get that last bit in there.
I dipped down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, boy. I’ll do my best.
Go home to Walker.”
“Will do, Sir. Your server will be right with you.” He handed me the
menus. “Also, he’s so damn cute.” He nodded at Gael. “Do you think he’d
be interested in playing with Franklin and Jack too?”
Oh hell. There’s an idea. I’d have to talk to Joshua and Gael. I’d have to
think about it for myself as well. I wasn’t sure I was ready to share my men
with Franklin and Jack. I’d only played with them once before; Franklin
was a man closer to my age, who ran a very successful business by day and
stripped down to be Jack’s whore by night. Jack was significantly younger
but successful in his own right—and incredibly sharp and wicked.
I glanced over at Joshua and Gael.
“There’s time for that later, Sir,” Macklin reminded me. “Think about
it.”
I inclined my head.
“We can talk after the weekend,” I said.
“Sounds good. Have a great date, Sir.”
“You too, troublemaker.” I made my way over to the table and shrugged
out of my coat. Just in time for my monitor to send a damn alert to my
phone. All right, all right, I was going to eat. I sat down across from them
and met Joshua’s pointed look. “We’ll get bread and drinks anytime now.
No need to worry.”
I turned off the signal on my phone and checked the food box in the
app. There.
When Macklin said the server would be “right with you,” he meant it.
We didn’t even have time for small talk before a young woman arrived with
a bread basket and a pitcher of ice water.

Halfway through an amazing dinner, Joshua leaned in and whispered

something in Gael’s ear. Whatever it was, it made him blush. He nodded
once, then pushed out his chair and said he’d be right back.
I lifted my brows at Joshua.
He smirked. “You requested a vibrating egg. I delivered.”
 Well, hell. This would be fun. I’d admittedly forgotten about it.
He handed over a small remote control to me. “It has a ten-foot reach
and makes all kinds of prostate promises. He doesn’t know you’ll be in
charge.”
I chuckled and eyed the remote. “Wonderful.” Four buttons, three for
the different intensity levels of the vibrations and one off button. “I think
this will be a perfect accessory for our next conversation.”
“Oh yeah?”
I nodded and placed the remote in my pocket, making sure I could feel
the buttons from the outside. “I want him to lose my name in the Master
title. I’d also like a firm grasp of our boundaries before we set playtime
dates with others. I find that I’m unusually possessive of what we’ve just
started, and I don’t want anything unsaid.”
The interest and affection lit a spark in Joshua’s eyes. Or, it was the
candlelight. “Considering my latest fetish is you being possessive, let’s start
right now. What kind of boundaries would you like?”
It would do me no good to speak in permanent terms about what I felt
right now, so I phrased myself carefully as I cut another piece of my steak.
“I think the one rule I’d like to implement long-term is us staying together
for group-play events. Other than that, I understand limits might change
over time. I…” I paused and chewed, hesitating momentarily to bring up
openness, but in the end—I’d said it myself. Nothing left unsaid. “I’m not
sure I will respond well to complete openness. I’m all for events, big or
small, where we’re more flexible, but I’ll need time to adjust if you and
Gael wish to seek out other partners for relationships.”
The topic caused a knot of unease in my stomach, proving my point. I’d
definitely need to mentally prepare myself.
Joshua reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “We’re
not interested in that sort of openness, cariño. We want you—the three of
us. Nobody else. The rest is for playtime only, and we’re on the same page
there too. We’ll stick together.”
No amount of relief could drown out the doubts born from my history.
I’d struggled so much with relationships, not to mention attachments, that it
was hard to reconcile how I suddenly wanted to close us in. I’d wanted the
opposite in the past. I’d always had one foot out the door.
“Gael is very young, though,” I pointed out. “He might change his
mind.”
 Joshua lifted a shoulder in half a shrug. “Then we’ll deal with that
together, no? Neither of us can predict the future.”
Sadly true. But Colt and Lucas seemed to have managed well with Kit.
Their boy had wanted to explore just a bit outside their closed triad, and
they’d found something they all wanted in an exclusive playtime
arrangement with Greer’s poly family. I might have a chat with Greer and
Colt, hear what they had to say on the matter. They faced the same issue,
for lack of a better word, where their partners were significantly younger.
Kit, Corey, and Gael were all around the same age.
I might talk to Lucian as well. He was in a similar situation.
“Fair enough,” I conceded. “Just be patient with me.”
“We’ll all be patient.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s new to us too.”
I’d remind myself of that often.
I did allow myself some relief in knowing we had the same desires, if
only for the moment. Group play wouldn’t be forced upon anybody; we all
had that kink. And we all seemed to be protective of our new triad as well.
“That Caleb better not mess with what we have,” I said. “I can only
imagine Gael thinking his baggage will be too much for us, or something
equally stupid.”
Joshua laughed softly. “He’s already mentioned it, but I gave him a
stern talkin’-to.”
“Good.” I shook my head and gathered more steak and potatoes on my
fork. “Nothing new on that front, I take it?”
It was Joshua’s turn to shake his head, and he went back to his salmon
dish. “Just that he’s returning to his old routines—swiftly too. His social
media presence has exploded since yesterday, and a few hours ago, he made
a post complaining about working this weekend. It’s a fuckin’ ruse, if you
ask me. He’s up to something.”
Yeah, Caleb’s behavior was one big red flag altogether.
“Do you think he knows you’re watching?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yup.”
In other words, Caleb might attack from another angle next time.
Thank goodness Gael was no longer my student. He had another class,
and Joshua and I could cooperate to keep an eye on the boy before and
after. If he didn’t quit that one as well. He’d told me he was disappointed
that the professor seemed disinterested, something I knew for a fact.
Professor Hallberg was a dud. A master at sending reading material and
using TAs to do his dirty work. If he could avoid going to class, he did. He
preferred online classes, even more so if he didn’t have to be present at all.
I lifted my gaze as I spotted someone in the doorway, and I kept my
smile at bay. Game on, dear boy. Gael shuffled back to his seat, his cheeks
still a bit flushed, and I ate as if I had no remote-controlled agenda.
“You’re right on time, sweetheart.” Joshua helped the boy tuck in his
napkin again. “Dean was just telling me he wanted to talk to you about D/s
titles.”
“Oh?” Gael looked at me. It was clear he was struggling to split his
focus.
Who could blame him? I was struggling too. Part of me wanted to wrap
up our dinner and take this back to my place, where I could strip him naked.
Actually, make it Joshua’s house.
That was another first for me, I supposed. I usually enjoyed going to
restaurants and everything that came with wining and dining, but I had to
admit, staying in appealed to me more now. Where Joshua could walk
around barefoot and shirtless, and Gael could run free in his pajamas. His
boyish personality made me react more than I’d anticipated.
“If you’re ready, of course,” I said. “Until then—”
“I’m ready, Sir,” Gael blurted out. “I’m very ready.”
I grinned, more pleased than I could express. “Then drop my name and
just call me Master.” I kept my voice low so that the other guests didn’t
hear.
“Yes, Master.” His shyness made another return, and it was sweeter than
sugar to behold. “I, um—” He stopped and turned to Joshua. “May I sit next
to Master for a moment?”
“Of course, baby. Let’s make that a rule,” he replied. “Unless you’re on
some sort of restriction or we give you a task, you come and go between us
whenever you like.”
That was a good rule.
We helped him shift his place setting over to my side of the table, and
Gael made his way around to sit next to me. He grinned up at me and
hugged my arm.
“I just wanted to say I’m happy.”
Fuck, he was going straight for my heart, this one.
“If you’re half as happy as I am, you’re about to explode.” I kissed the
side of his head, unable to explain the rush of emotions going on inside me.
For every second that passed, I became more convinced that a dinner date
in a restaurant had been a bad idea. We should be sitting on Joshua’s
comfortable couch and watching Band of Brothers and eating pizza.
Those old fears of mine were wreaking havoc too. I guessed, if
anything, they were a testament to how much I cared—so early on, to boot.
“I propose we order dessert to-go later,” I said. “We shouldn’t leave
General alone at Joshua’s place for too long.”
They both saw through me, and I was fine with that. Let them know I
was keen on returning to our bubble.
As I took another bite of food, I brushed my fingers over the buttons on
the remote, and I pressed the middle one for level two. Gael immediately
stiffened in his seat, and he stopped speaking mid-sentence, something
about giving General a baby brother.
“I’ve always liked cats,” I mentioned. “They’re peaceful creatures.”
Joshua snorted softly. “In your experience, maybe. My parents had two
cats throughout most of my childhood, and I still have scars. Cats made me
a dog person.”
“But you like General,” Gael protested, all while squirming.
“Because he’s gotta be on Xanax or something,” Joshua teased. “Are
you all right, boy?”
“Yes, Sir.” The boy’s blush said otherwise. “He’s not on Xanax. He’s
just old.”
“Then maybe a baby brother would be perfect,” I said. “He can rub off
his calm behavior on the little one.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Gael lit up in triumph.
So I diverted his attention and gestured at Joshua, and I said, “But
before we discuss kittens, your Daddy and I wanted to talk to you about
playtime.” And I pressed the third button.
Gael sucked in a breath and gripped his knife and fork tightly.
“Oh yeah, we did,” Joshua chuckled. “Something about boundaries,
right?”
“For group play,” I confirmed. “Macklin and Walker are interested in
setting something up for us.” I slid Joshua a look. “Macklin has expressed
his wish to see Walker and me take you.”
Joshua smirked wolfishly. “Macklin tried to get bossy with me once.
Didn’t work so great for him.”
“So he wants to sic my brother and me on you now,” I laughed.
 “I so wanna watch that,” Gael confessed.
“You’ll do more than watch, my little peach.” I put an arm around him
and squeezed him to me, and I kissed his temple and spoke for only him to
hear. “You’d blush your adorable face off if you heard what Macklin
suggested we do with you.”
He turned to me, eyes wide, and it seemed he didn’t need the details for
the blush to become more pronounced. He couldn’t sit still either. He kept
squirming, and his breathing had become a little labored.
“They wanna play with me also?” he asked.
I furrowed my brow. “Well, of course they do. In fact…” I had to
address Joshua here as well. “Macklin was wondering if you’re interested in
including Franklin and Jack. I told him we’d think about it. With some
boundaries included, I won’t mind. I’ve played with Franklin before, and
I’ve spoken quite a bit with Jack on the forum.”
Before the holidays, we’d made loose plans to meet up sometime. Jack
had a voyeur in him, and he’d noticed my chemistry with Franklin.
To be fair, most Tops had good chemistry with Franklin because he
wanted everything with everyone in the heat of the moment.
“I don’t know them,” Joshua said. “They’re new, right?”
I inclined my head. “Tate and Kingsley recruited Franklin a few months
ago, I heard. And Jack is Franklin’s ex-wife’s nephew. He also went to high
school with Macklin.”
Joshua lifted his brows and chuckled. “Sounds like a Jerry Springer
episode.”
“Franklin is very funny online,” Gael chimed in with. “He and Noa
banter a lot.”
I did remember that.
Joshua shrugged slightly and smiled. “I’m game. The more the merrier
—but that’s me. As long as we get to those boundaries because I’ll want
them too.” He grabbed his beer, then thought of something. “Why don’t we
ask KC and Noa if they’re interested? It might be nice for Gael to have a
fellow Little there.”
“As long as Noa doesn’t rub off on Gael too much,” I half joked. “That
boy is…well, you know. You’ve been with him.” It just hit me. He and
another Top from their previous community had shared a casual
arrangement with Noa and Cameron.
 “There are ways to silence him,” Joshua replied, amused. He shifted his
gaze to an increasingly uncomfortable Gael. But uncomfortable in a good
way. The vibrations were getting to him. “It’s up to you, querido. This
would be your first group-play event, so maybe we should go slower. Just
play with Macklin and Walker first and see—”
“Or we go big,” Gael said and gripped the edges of his seat.
Hmm. I decided to turn the vibrator off completely. I didn’t want his
decision to come from the desperation he felt right now.
A breath gusted out of him as the toy was switched off, and he
swallowed hard.
Joshua flicked me a glance. “Did you turn it off?”
I nodded.
That gave me Gael’s attention. “You have the remote, Sir?”
“Right here.” I patted my pocket. “I figured it was best to dial it back a
notch so you can make an informed decision.”
He flushed. “My decision is very, very informed.”
Joshua and I exchanged a grin.
We remembered what it was like at that age, didn’t we? When fantasies
had to be explored right then and there, when patience was a foreign
concept, when we lived like there was no tomorrow.
“How’s this,” Joshua proposed to Gael, “we can absolutely go big, but
we’ll tighten the leash a bit until you’re more comfortable at the event. For
instance, we’ll keep you close to us.”
That seemed to sober the boy up. “You won’t keep me close the whole
time?”
Did he want that? I secretly wanted that, but I also wanted a long-term
relationship with him, which meant I had to let him explore the kinks he’d
fantasized about for so long. There was no missing the fact that group play
was at the top of his list.
Joshua smiled patiently. “This is why we discuss boundaries. You tell us
what you want. Selfishly, I want to keep you in my pocket all day long.”
Well said. “I admit, I want that too,” I said.
That earned us a cute, crooked grin from Gael. “That’s the thing—for as
much as I want to throw myself in a pile of sexy bodies, what I need is you
two right there with me. I want there to be stuff only you’re allowed to do.”
Oh, I was certainly paying extra attention now.
“Go on.” Joshua nodded.
 Gael squirmed a little and fidgeted with the edges of his napkin. “Like,
maybe…only you can come in me?”
I cleared my throat and lifted a brow at Joshua. Good thing the boy had
said it, because I’d sort of taken that for granted—perhaps foolishly so.
“Done,” Joshua said. “Only Master and Daddy can come in your tight
little bottom.”
I had to interject here. “For the record, it’s the only place we’ll be
coming.” Joshua and I weren’t new to these parties, and I was familiar with
the preferences he’d dreamed of having with the partners he’d never had.
He wanted strings attached and boundaries that felt like freedom, exactly
the same as me. No matter how soon it was, I’d grown ridiculously fond of
Gael—and Joshua, of course—and now…the thought of carelessly avoiding
restrictions unsettled me. “We have no interest in reaching any finish lines
with others.”
“Well, there’s his mouth too,” Joshua added with a smirk. “His adorable
face, his tummy, his whole body.”
Naturally.
“Gosh—” Gael turned to me and hugged my bicep, including pressing
his face against it. “Are we really talking about this in a restaurant?”
I laughed softly and kissed the top of his head. Nobody could hear us.
“Sweetheart,” Joshua coaxed. “This is Dean and me, though. You’re
young and itching to go wild—and we’ll respect your wishes if you wanna
go further.”
I inclined my head in agreement—and kept my personal desires to
myself. I was sure Joshua shared them too. But this wasn’t about us, and if
we wanted to keep Gael for years to come, we couldn’t go cavemen on his
ass.
He pressed his face against my arm for another few seconds, perhaps
gathering his thoughts, before he tilted his head toward Joshua a bit more
and rested his cheek against me.
“Okay, I’ll be super honest,” he said quietly. “I want to go nuts and have
fun—if they wanna have fun with me—but I think it might be too intimate
to get off with another Top. Does that make sense? Like, I’ve been talking
to Kit a lot, and he says he’s having so much fun with Corey, ’cause they’re
Littles together—and their Daddies like to watch. So…I don’t know—
maybe I’d like to try to have that kind of fun with another Little or sub
sometime? Just not a Top. I only want to go that far with you two.”
 We truly needed to get home already, because I wanted to express just
how much I loved what he’d said.
The glint of relief in Joshua’s eyes told me he and I were once again on
the same page.
They may be the boring technicalities of BDSM—to discuss who got to
come where and when—but each rule made up a framework in which we
thrived and nobody was harmed. Pain within a comfort zone, suffering
within a structure that brought pleasure, chaos inside a bubble of safety.
The three of us talked about this yet-to-be-planned group-play event
while we finished our dinner, and Joshua and I realized we didn’t have to
hold back as much as we’d perhaps feared. Or been resigned to, rather. But
of course, talk was easy, and Gael was inexperienced. We had to be
prepared for his mind to change down the road.
For now, though, we were in full agreement. Within the confines of a
group event, we could let go of our inhibitions—kissing, oral, fucking,
using toys, and so on, all okay. Same with, as per Macklin’s request,
coming on others. But Joshua and I controlled and owned Gael’s orgasms,
as he owned ours, with the exception for Littles. If Gael bonded with Noa—
or Macklin, whom we deemed safe for other reasons—our boy could go
further as long as we were there to enjoy the show.
We also covered safety, and I made a mental note to ask Walker to let
Macklin plan the event. He’d done it so many times before, and he was
meticulous about protection. For one, he demanded STI screenings so that
we could go unprotected for oral and still be safe.
“But we’ll use condoms for sex,” Joshua finished.
“Even between the three of us?” Gael asked.
That damn puppy-dog look.
“No, we have our own rules, of course.” I dipped down and kissed his
pout away until he was smiling. “Now—how about dessert to go and
getting the hell out of here?”
I brushed a finger over the remote control and found the second button
just as Gael opened his mouth to respond.
“Guh.”
I interpreted that as a yes.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 10

Dean Aavik

“G ood morning, Daddy—ugh, crap, I mean Master! Good morning,

Master.” Gael giggled and smacked himself on the forehead.
I’d thought waking up to the smell of coffee and hearing him rustling
around the kitchen was the absolute best, but the sound of his sweet
giggling clearly topped that.
“Good mornin’, my darlin’ peach.” I tucked my shirt into my pants as I
went over to him, and I kissed the top of his head and eyed the feast he was
preparing. Scrambled eggs, turkey bacon that wasn’t half bad, actually,
grilled tomato halves, toast, and coffee. “You keep spoiling me like this, I’ll
never wanna go back home.”
He grinned up at me, goofy and smug. “That’s the goal, Sir.”
He knew how to wrap my heart up in a warm blanket, didn’t he? I
cupped his face in my hands and dipped down to get his soft lips. “You
don’t know how much you already mean to me, Gael.”
“Ditto,” he whispered.
You can’t be real. Dreams don’t come true like this.
I brushed my thumbs over his soft skin and peered into his gorgeous
blue eyes.
“Did you take your insulin, Sir?”
I grinned faintly. “I did.”
“Goodie—then please take your seat,” he said. “I charged your iPad,
and my homework that we forgot about last night is waiting on the table.”
 Christ. The boy almost rendered me speechless. To be fair, I’d been
incredibly distracted by Joshua’s and Gael’s naked bodies from the moment
we’d returned from the city.
“You really want to serve me, don’t you?” I murmured.
“So much, Da—Master. I mean Master.”
I narrowed my eyes briefly. This second slip appeared less accidental.
He flashed another smile, one I found a little too innocent, before easing
away to plate my food.
Was there something wrong with my title? Did he prefer something
else?
I let it go for now and trailed over to the kitchen table by the window. It
was still dark out, and it was one of the few things I enjoyed about the
winter. Dark mornings, a fire crackling, coffee steaming, and morning
slippers warm and soft. He’d even lit a couple candles on the table.
I ignored my iPad and picked up Gael’s little notebook instead, much
more interested in seeing what he’d written.
In the meantime, the boy hummed to himself, and I was utterly charmed
by another morning with him.
Hello, Sir! Here are the chores I’m hoping to establish with you. I
confess, they might contain fantasy elements of Professor/student.
I smirked to myself. At least he was honest.
Chore 1: Breakfast. Totally my turf! I want to prepare your breakfast
every morning. And when we don’t spend the night together, perhaps you
can stop by Waffled on your way to work, and I can fix you something
there.
Oh, I was torn. I wanted to spend every night with him and Joshua—at
the same time as I loved the idea of stopping by for a quick breakfast date
on my way to work.
Chore 2: Cam takes care of Master Lucian’s dry cleaning, and I want
to do that for you also, Sir. And I can shine your shoes too! Cam sent me
a tutorial on YouTube.
My chest constricted, though the sensation wasn’t necessarily bad. It
was more… It was the gravity of the situation. How quickly he reeled me in
and unconsciously showed me a future I desperately wanted.
Given that Gael was, as far as I knew, primarily a Little—or Middle—I
didn’t believe our high-protocol structure would take up too much of our
time. And as I read, I found myself itching to simply create something for
us around these chores. These tasks would be ours. They would belong to
him and me. This would be our thing.
Additionally, I had to admit to myself that I didn’t want domestic
servitude to take over too much. I glanced over at him as he was pouring
my coffee, and it was perfection right there. He might be performing a task
for me, but he was also shaking his butt to music only he heard, and today’s
pajama set had cartooned waffles on them. That was the boy I wanted to
know everything about.
I couldn’t foresee a reality in which I put him on speech restrictions
regularly or told him to bow his head when he kneeled for me. I wanted his
goofy grins and the ants in his pants to show.
I dropped my stare to the next chore on the list.
Chore 3: I would very much like history homework, like our own
private classes. With tests and STUFF. And I can help you sort through
papers and books and notes, etc. And clean your office, maybe?
I chuckled under my breath and rested my chin atop my knuckles.
Tests and stuff.
Chore 4: Last but not least! This isn’t a chore as much as a routine
I’ve been dreaming about. Like, if you sit in your chair and read or work,
I want to sit by your feet and just decompress and be close to you.
Fuck. That one got to me.
I swallowed and closed the notebook as a swell of want soared within
me. The most bizarre feeling—it was as freeing as it was crushing. Those
damn doubts were responsible for the crushing feeling, because I couldn’t
fucking lose him. Both of them. They’d given me a taste of what I’d lost
hope of finding, and if all this was taken from me, I’d have nothing left but
memories to shatter me every morning when I woke up to my harsh reality.
Except, my actual reality was the opposite of harsh, and I had to fucking
stop thinking this was going to fail.
Before Gael came over to me, I noticed he jotted something down in a
notebook I’d seen Joshua use, and I suspected it was related to my food.
“What are you and Joshua writing in that thing?” I wondered.
“Daddy asked me to do a nutrition estimate for every breakfast,” he
responded frankly. “He drew a bunch of circles for me so I can turn each
meal into a pie chart. It’s not super accurate—we just wanna make sure you
get all the nutrition you need.”
 They truly were taking over from Walker. Although, he’d definitely
never drawn a pie chart over my sugar intake.
It was equal parts frustrating and endearing.
Maybe a bit more endearing than frustrating. They cared about me. With
type 1 diabetes, I had less wiggle room than someone with type 2, and
Joshua and Gael were adjusting. For me…it was the story of my life. I had
to stay within the lines. Too much or not enough, and it could have
disastrous consequences.
“You’re very sweet for fussing.” I reached out and stroked his lower
back as he set my plate in front of me. With the coffee. My mouth watered.
“I don’t suppose you’ll feel appeased by the fact that I know how to fend
for myself.”
He offered a curious little grin in return. “It’s not about that, Master. Of
course you can fend for yourself. So can Daddy and I. But now we wanna
fend for each other, because we like the together stuff. You know?”
You know?
I exhaled a laugh and scrubbed a hand over my mouth and jaw.
I was being schooled by someone who’d been born during the Clinton
administration.
Because we like the together stuff.
“Is everything okay, Sir?”
I smiled and shook my head at myself. “More than. On your knees,
please.” I took a sip of my coffee, and Gael sank down to his knees on the
floor next to my chair. “I’m just glad I have you and Joshua to remind me of
the together stuff.”
With a bit of luck and a whole lot of patience, perhaps they could teach
this old dog to sit.
A relationship wasn’t about what we could do on our own, but what we
chose to do as a unit.
I was a damn fool sometimes—and that ended now. I’d promised
Joshua I was all in, which I’d failed at showing him because my doubts had
cautioned every step forward. That had to end too.
“You did a wonderful job with your homework, peach.” I combed my
fingers through his hair, and he smiled up at me. “Beautiful boy. My only
question now is what I can do for you—how I can be a great Master for
you.” I touched his cheek. “When you hand over control to me, I want to
take a weight off your shoulders as well.”
 He scrunched his nose and squinted at me. “Surrendering control is a
weight off my shoulders, Sir.”
A ridiculous smile broke out—I couldn’t help it, but damn if that wasn’t
the most perfect response.
“I understand that part—but I mean something you struggle with or…I
don’t know. Something you wish Daddy and I took care of for you.”
He put his thinking cap on and lowered his gaze. “Hmm.”
“You can think about it.” There was no rush. I tucked into my breakfast
and remembered—Gael was trying to get closer to Lucian’s pet. “Maybe
talk to Cameron? I take it you’re seeing him on Tuesday.”
“Yes, Master. For the pasta class. I can’t wait!”
His excitement was infectious. I couldn’t wait either—for evenings of
watching Joshua and Gael together in the kitchen.
Like a flip of a switch, I was assaulted by dream scenarios of our future,
and I wondered if it would be possible for Joshua to perhaps work less.
Down the road, of course. But I knew he itched for more time to spend right
here. He wanted a garden and shelter dogs and… It was all too easy to
picture us living here together. At least I’d done well for myself, so if
Joshua and Gael wanted to work part time and focus more on whatever
hobbies they felt they couldn’t dedicate themselves to now…I would be
very fine with that.
Dinner was the time of day I wanted us to gather around every day.
Even more so since Gael and I were early risers, whereas Joshua was
anything but, though I was the only one interested in breakfast at all.
Joshua’s breakfast was lunch, and by then, Gael had eaten his cereal in front
of the TV.
They should both envy me, to be honest, because what Gael served me
was heavenly. I was extremely fond of the grilled tomato halves, something
Walker had never understood. I absolutely loved tomatoes. As long as they
were kept off my burgers.
“You make the best grilled tomatoes I’ve ever had, pet.” I finished my
last one and savored it. “My brothers used to poke fun at me for being
obsessed with tomatoes when I was younger. For every Mother’s Day, I
bought my foster mother a tomato plant.”
Gael got comfortable on his bottom instead, and he rested his chin on
my knee. And that fit better—he shouldn’t be kneeling. He should sit
comfortably.
 “I had them once when my parents and I had breakfast in a British pub
in San Francisco,” he said. “I guess it’s common in a full English
breakfast.”
I nodded and took another sip of my coffee.
“Do you consider yourself more European than American, Sir?”
Hmm. My childhood had been undeniably American, not counting my
earliest memories. “I’d say fifty-fifty,” I replied pensively. “When my
mother died, I foolishly tried to forget everything about my heritage
because it simply hurt too much. A wonderful woman had taken me in, and
it wasn’t long before Walker and my other brothers followed. I tried to be as
Southern as they were.”
“Did it work?”
I smiled ruefully. “While I was a child, I suppose. But I grew up during
the last peak of the Cold War, and when the Soviets invaded Afghanistan, it
triggered memories and questions. I wanted to know why we had fled, why
my parents had fought and sacrificed so much for their country—that I
couldn’t stop trying to understand. Every chance I got, I was at the library.”
Those memories came back to me now too, and it felt wrong to have Gael
at my feet. I wanted him closer. “Come on, let’s go have a seat in the living
room instead. If I’m going to bore you with childhood stories, I want you in
my arms.”
He gasped animatedly. “I could never be bored by your stories, Master!”
Well, he did like history, and mine was practically ancient compared to
his.
Not that my sweet Gael had history. He had current events.
Gael rushed ahead, with my plate, and I refilled my coffee before I
joined him on the couch in the living room. A place that looked much
homier already with paint on the walls and books and knickknacks on the
shelves. Joshua’s next project was to assemble the dining room table, and
Gael wanted to unpack Joshua’s records and movies.
The boy had marveled at Joshua’s DVD collection.
“Have you heard of something called Netflix, Daddy? Everyone streams
today!”
Not everyone. Hmpf.
“Master, can I ask you something that’s not about your childhood?”
I chuckled and sank down on the couch with a grunt. “Of course you
can.”
 I noticed he was hesitating a bit, and he grabbed my coffee from me and
set it on the coffee table while he thought about what to say. To my surprise,
he crawled up in my lap and locked his arms around my neck, effectively
hiding his face so I couldn’t read his expression.
What on earth?
“Is somethin’ wrong, pet?” I rubbed his back and kissed his shoulder.
He shook his head. “I was j-just wondering…” he whispered. “Could I
maybe—I mean, sometimes… It’s just—crap.” Poor boy, what was so
awful to ask that he became so flustered? “I love these mornings, Sir,” he
admitted softly. “I was only thinking…the way you c-come across to me,
and how I react…you’re kind of also like, um, a Daddy…?”
Fucking hell, that was all? With the amount of fumbling and
stammering, I’d grown tense, and now I had to restrain myself so that I
didn’t laugh in sheer relief.
My darling boy—I squeezed him to me and couldn’t contain my grin.
Rivers of contentment flowed through me, and I let out a long breath. I
had to see his face. I bet it was a nice shade of pink.
“I love our mornings together too.” I kissed his neck, then coaxed him
back so I could get a look at him. True enough, a sweet blush covered his
cheeks. “If you feel like Daddy is a more fitting title—”
“Sometimes,” he said, rushing out the word. “I want both titles for you,
if you don’t mind.”
I smiled and nudged up his chin. “I don’t mind a teensy little bit.”
I’d already discovered I was taking a gentler approach with Gael,
because that’s what felt natural with him. And I adored his Little-isms. I
could think of worse things than being called Daddy by this little
sweetheart. In fact… Hell.
He grinned shyly. “Are you sure?”
I leaned in and brushed my lips to his. “Absolutely certain.” Heat
slithered through me as he squirmed on my lap, and we’d have to postpone
our chat about my upbringing. One day, I would tell him that I was
American enough to be a football fan and Northern European enough to
find it a travesty that we didn’t have floorball in the US, and he’d snicker at
me. Or wonder what the hell floorball was.
He locked his arms around my neck again, and we deepened the kiss,
perhaps feeling the same need to solidify another milestone in our
relationship. I didn’t quite know how to explain it, but it felt significant,
nevertheless.
“Let me hear you say it,” I whispered.
He shivered and fiddled with the buttons on my shirt. “Daddy.”
That’ll do.
Fuck.
Gael bit his lip and fought a cute grin as he undid the buttons. “My
Master Professor Daddy.”
I let out a chuckle, though the amusement faded when I saw the need
growing in his eyes. It intensified my own hunger, and I was done talking.
So was he. We came at each other with a level of fire that was entirely new
to me. For as long as I could remember, Walker had described me as
frustratingly mellow and said that nothing could ruffle my feathers, but that
was exactly what Gael and Joshua were doing. I was becoming fucking
unglued because of them.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 11

Gael Grimes

S odiscussion
it was actually settled? It was going to happen? This was no longer a
about limits for a future event that might take place; we had
plans now. A date. For an actual orgy.
Oh my gosh.
And I was going to attend with my two Owners.
It was laughable!
Me? At an orgy? With two partners?
Nuts. Nutty-nut, nut, nuts.
“What’re you snickering about back there, baby?” Daddy chuckled and
eyed me in the rearview.
“All of this,” I laughed. “That this is actually happening.”
The orgy was just the icing on the cake. The past week I’d spent with
Santiago and Dean was…everything. Everything. Daddy and I had totally
cracked Dean—and goodness, they had cracked me too. Not that I’d been
wary of entering anything, but it’d been tough to believe initially. I just had
to keep reminding myself that I deserved to be happy.
I’d missed being happy.
Now I couldn’t contain it.
I bobbed my head to the beat of the song playing on the radio and
looked out the window. Traffic was getting worse the closer we got to the
city madness.
I checked my phone to see what time it was, and I nodded to myself. We
were on time. Macklin and Archie’s class started in fifteen minutes. We’d
be on the third floor, and while we were up there, Daddy and Dean were
gonna have an early dinner date downstairs. And tomorrow, we were
hopefully having leftovers for dinner! Macklin had promised I’d have a
meal to bring home, and I loved the idea of preparing something delicious
for my Owners. ’Cause I had those now! Two of them. One, two. Who were
so stinking amazing, I couldn’t describe it accurately.
A message from Dean popped up, reminding me to change his name in
my phone. He was way more than Professor Dean.
Tell Daddy I just parked. I assume he’s driving. Kisses.
“Master’s at the restaurant, Daddy,” I announced.
“I bet he stole the last good parking spot,” he said.
I snickered and replied to Dean.
We’ll be there in ten, Sir! Also, Daddy thinks you stole the last good
parking spot. A thousand kisses.
I liked this song. It was a happy one. Daddy listened to so many genres,
from Latin pop to metal, from opera to country—like this one. It was a
country music channel.
Another text popped up, and I saw it was Kit.
Have fun at the class!
I smiled and typed back.
Thanks! I still think you should’ve come!
I’d asked him about it, despite that the class was geared toward slaves
and subs into domestic servitude—I mean, everyone was welcome—but Kit
had declined. He and Colt were gonna spend the night building model craft.
Which reminded me… “Daddy, do you think it’s possible I could keep
my 3-D printer at your house? Maybe in the garage?” He’d already hinted
at it when I’d said I kept my printer at my grandmother’s house in Virginia
Beach. I just didn’t have room for it at my place.
I’d given a couple mini figurines of fighter jets to Kit, and he’d painted
them like some professional. They looked so cool.
“Absofuckinglutely,” Daddy replied, switching lanes before our exit.
“Just say the word, and we’ll drive down to Virginia Beach.”
I beamed. “And I can introduce you to my grandma?”
He smiled back at me. “If you’re ready for that, nothing would make me
happier.”
Awesome! We’d have to find a day Dean wasn’t too busy so he could
come with us.
 I’d already told my dad because I told him everything, and he’d been so
surprised—but happy for me. Okay, I’d gossiped a little too. I hadn’t been
able to help it. It had been yesterday, when I’d gone back to work for the
first time in days. Dad had logged in as usual, and he’d noted my absence.
That was how my dad and I functioned. We usually had a phone date
once every other week, where we could talk for hours about everything
between heaven and earth, so it wasn’t like we talked every day. A few
messages through work’s intranet chat, sure; otherwise, we waited. In other
words, I’d had a lot to tell him yesterday on my lunch break, and he’d been
almost stunned to silence.
He’d gotten used to updates about General and whatever class I was
taking at the moment. Not that Caleb was harassing me again, and oh, I’d
shacked up with two wonderful men from my kink community.
Actually, he was kind of used to hearing about Caleb, and he was
reacting to that news much like I was reacting to Caleb’s sudden
disappearance—or return to the West Coast. I didn’t know why Santiago
and Dean were so suspicious. This was totally what Caleb did. All would be
well now until he reached out again in a couple months.
The only difference now was that my fears had faded. I wasn’t scared of
him anymore. Meeting Santiago and Dean had given me strength. More
than that, I’d finally moved on. Caleb didn’t have a hold on me like he used
to.

“You’re late, you two.” Dean narrowed his eyes at us as I climbed out of
Daddy’s truck.
“We’re right on time,” Daddy argued.
“Early is on time, and all that,” I quoted, half joking.
“Exactly.” Master gestured at me.
I ran up to him, and he dipped down and kissed me soundly. It was a
little crazy, but I’d missed him today. He’d started early, which had cut our
morning routine short, and I wasn’t a fan.
“How was work, Master?”
He grinned faintly. “Once I stopped procrastinating and reading your
latest arguments in the history group online, I actually got things done.”
 I chuckled. That damn AlphaDom69 was at it again, but Master Greer
and I shut him up.
“Hey, guys.”
I turned around and spotted Shay climbing out of Reese’s car, and I
waved. “Hi, Shay.”
“Is Reese letting you drive his Impala?” Dean seemed surprised.
Shay smirked and pocketed the car keys. “Yup, but he’s plenty
nervous.”
Daddy let out a low whistle. “That’s true love. Those two will never let
you go.”
I smiled. I remembered when I’d joined Mclean last September—the
triad Shay shared with River and Reese had been very new, but they’d
appeared 100% solid from the start.
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Shay’s smirk softened, and he shifted his
gaze to me. “I’ll see you up there.”
“Yeah, I’m right behind you.” While I gave these dumb, awkward
waves, he’d nailed the badass two-finger wave. He was so cool.
Shay was one of those bad-boy-looking types, all while being super nice
and genuine. Not unlike Santiago, who always looked like he’d just rolled
out of bed and thrown on his jeans and leather jacket.
I turned back to Daddy and Master. “So you’ll wait for me, right?”
“Of course we will. You can head on up—actually…” Dean faced
Santiago. “Did you tell him about Macklin?”
“Fuck—no, I forgot.” Daddy rubbed his forehead and chuckled. “I knew
there was something.”
“What?” I asked, curious.
Master took over. “We spoke to Walker and Macklin earlier, and we
agreed to give Macklin the green light to warm you up for Thursday’s event
—if you’re comfortable with that. Safewords apply, naturally.”
Um. Warm me up? How?
Daddy touched my cheek and smirked a little. “We’ve okayed him to
flirt with you, and we’re drawing the line at kissing. Nothing further than
that today.”
Holy crap, did Macklin want that?
“It’s always good to see if there’s chemistry beforehand,” Master
reasoned.
 Yeah, okay, that made sense, but how was I gonna focus on spaghetti if
my original Mclean crush flirted with me? Gosh.
“Emphasis on see for us, querido.” Daddy leaned down and kissed the
corner of my mouth. “Dean and I will be watching.”
Whoa.
Master smiled faintly. “My date with Santiago has turned into a peep
show that includes Walker. He’s on his way.”
“We’ll be dining in Macklin’s office,” Daddy explained. “Where we
have access to live footage. Walker installed a camera in the section where
Macklin and Archie are hosting the class.”
Sweet baby Jesus, February no longer felt cold. I swallowed nervously,
and a million butterflies started buzzing around my tummy. Then I glanced
up at Dean, and I took a deep breath. As exciting as this was—and boy, was
it!—my priority today was to learn to make a pasta dish that would satisfy
my Owners. I wanted to please them, first and foremost.
“Do you have any thoughts on this?” Dean asked.
Uh. A million thoughts.
I let out a laugh and shook my head. “My head is stuffed! I’m excited
and nervous and determined and flummoxed, all at once.”
“That’s a good mix,” he chuckled and pulled me close. “I suggest we
get out of the cold, then.” He kissed the top of my head, and I grinned up at
him. “You enjoy your class, little peach. Daddy and I certainly will.”
“Just remember you can safeword anytime,” Daddy murmured. “If you
tell Macklin yellow, he’ll bring you downstairs to us—or he’ll take you
aside and make sure you’re all right.”
I nodded, though I couldn’t foresee a reason I’d need to safeword. When
push came to shove, this was still a pasta-making class, and several others
would be there.
Also, my Daddies knew I was very keen on making new friends, so I
didn’t think they would set me up for something major today just like that. I
had nothing to worry about. And all the things to look forward to!
Not wanting to be late, I hopped up and gave Dean and Santiago a
couple quick kisses, and then I said I was gonna go upstairs. I didn’t know
if they were heading in right away or waiting for Master Walker—Master
McKenna? I’d have to find out how he preferred to be addressed. As
instructed, once I reached the desk, I told the host I was here for Mr.
McKenna’s class on the third floor, and he crossed off my name before I ran
up.
Macklin’s restaurant was definitely popular. So it was kind of surprising
that he didn’t utilize the space on the top floor. Other than the rooftop
terrace always reserved for private parties—and munches—there was a
closed-off dining area, which I guessed had been attic space back when
people had lived here.
Once I reached the third floor, I had to catch my breath a little, but as
soon as I spotted Cam and Tate by the service elevator, a bundle of nerves
and joy pushed me forward. Like, I was so motivated to finally join the
community for real that breathing could wait.
“Hi, Cam and Tate.” I hurried over to them and instantly worried I’d
interrupted an important conversation. “Crap, sorry, maybe I interrupt—”
“No, no, it’s fine. We were just talking about Master Lucian,” Tate
replied with a reassuring smile.
Cam’s own smile was wry. “His blood pressure is high, and he’s trying
to hide it. So there’s a minor war going on at home. KC and me against
Master and Noa.”
“Oh,” I mouthed. “What’s the war about?”
“Master and Noa are downplaying everything, and KC and I are
frustrated because they’re living in denial,” Cam answered. “KC and I
wanna make changes to his diet—meanwhile, they think it’s hilarious when
Noa sneaks Master takeout at work.” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mind it
before, but now with the doctor’s exams…”
“But he’s been under a lot of pressure too, hasn’t he?” Tate wondered.
“I’ve read that stress is an insanely big factor. It’s not just food.”
I nodded, agreeing with Tate. More often than not, it was a combination
of things.
“If he cuts down on a little bit of everything that might cause high blood
pressure, maybe he can still enjoy takeout from time to time,” I suggested.
Cam pinched his bottom lip, thinking, and—
“Hey! Tate and the brats! Let’s go. We’re starting now.”
I spun around, spotting Macklin heading toward the closed-off section
behind the stairs.
I turned back to Cam real quick and gave his arm a brief squeeze.
“Maybe we can think of something after the class.”
 “Count me in,” Tate said. “Lee’s working late anyway, so I suggest wine
and snacks at the bar.”
Oh—I hadn’t thought… I mean, I’d sort of thought we could make
plans to meet up or… Oh, whatever—I liked Tate’s idea better anyway! I
was sure I could convince Dean and Santiago to let me stay a while longer.
The three of us went after Macklin, with Cam muttering that he wasn’t a
damn brat, and Tate nudged me and smirked slyly as he said, “I want all the
deets on your new triad too, hon. I hear you bagged both Santiago and
Master Dean.”
Gosh—bagged? I flushed, highly unsure I’d use that word.
Tate chuckled. “It’s always the quiet ones…”
I had no response to that, and I wasn’t sure it mattered. Tate pulled aside
a curtain, and then we entered an open space I’d never seen before. Oh, I
liked it! Macklin had preserved the old wooden floor, but the walls had new
wallpaper and painted crown molding. Dark, dark, dark gray wallpaper with
some stylish, old-fashioned design just a shade or two lighter. Maybe he
had plans to open this up for more dining. But right now, it was clear he
was planning for more classes.
Eight stations were prepared, with a longer counter up front where I
presumed Macklin and Archie would demonstrate from. And I was glad I’d
snuck a peek at the attendance list online—otherwise, I would’ve been
more nervous. Not to mention surprised to see so many people here.
Fourteen subs had signed up, and other than Macklin, Archie, Cam, Tate,
and Shay, I recognized Gretchen, Lane—and he was standing with a girl I’d
seen him interact with online, but I didn’t know her. Santiago did, however.
Sandra, Darnell, and Mateo were here as well. More people I’d watched
online like the lurker I’d been. A few others from the bondage crowd as
well.
“Welcome to our first cooking class, everyone,” Macklin said, rounding
the station he’d share with Archie. “You’re here because you love pasta—
and because you’re good subbies who wanna serve your Owners first-class
meals. Archie and I will help you with that.” He folded up the sleeves of his
black button-down. “Before we start, you can come up here and wash your
hands. It’ll be a while before we get sinks installed. You can also pair up.”
I glanced at Cam and was super relieved to find him turning to me too.
At the same time, Tate and Shay paired up, and Lane was with that girl,
NoraOfTheNorth or whatever she called herself online.
 “Wanna team up?” Cam asked.
“Yeah, definitely.” I nodded.
“Gael!” I heard Macklin call over the chatter.
I stood on my toes, ’cause people were flooding the front where the
only two sinks were. I had to raise my hand too for Macklin to locate me.
He offered a quick smile and pointed at a station. “I want you up front,
pet.”
Oof, here we go. “Yes, Sir!”
“Pet?” Cam lifted his brows, his curiosity clear as day.
I grinned sheepishly and followed him toward the front. “Dean and
Santiago want to see if Macklin and I have good chemistry before the
group-play thing on Thursday.”
He knew about it, considering KC and Noa had signed up to attend. But
Cam himself—and Master Lucian—weren’t interested in scening with
others outside their poly family.
“I see. Noa told me a lot of people are attending.” Cam grinned. “You
looking forward to it?”
“Yeah—but I’m trying not to think about it too much yet,” I admitted.
“I’m gonna be crazy nervous right before.”
Noa wasn’t wrong either. Everyone who’d received an invitation had
signed up, plus a few others. Although, the extras were only going to watch.
River, Reese, and Shay, for instance…? I’d been surprised to see them on
the list until I’d spotted the “watch only” symbol next to their names. Well,
next to River and Reese. Shay’s name had come with an asterisk but no
explanation about what it meant.
Also, Tate’s Master was going to watch. Master Kingsley. Not Tate. Just
Master Kingsley, along with Franklin’s Owner, Jack. But Franklin was
going to play.
“Once you’re buried in bodies, you’ll stop thinking altogether,” Cam
replied.
Fingers crossed. I just wanted to feel.
After a few minutes, everyone had washed their hands and put on
aprons that Archie handed out. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept last
night. Maybe that was to be expected? Between Master Greer, Mister Sloan,
Corey, and Archie, they had five children, so yeah.
“All right, please pipe down, everyone!” Macklin called. “One last thing
before we begin! My Master has installed a camera—” He gestured at a
spot behind him, and I saw the camera in the corner. “It’s not recording
anything, but he, Master Dean, and Santiago are watching downstairs. Just
so you know.”
Tate cocked a brow. He and Shay had the station next to Cam’s and
mine. “And why are they watching?”
“Call it homework for our group-play event on Thursday,” Macklin
responded. “Don’t worry, they’re not collecting dirt to pass on to your
Owners. But—” He paused briefly and eyed Tate. “Perhaps they can
persuade Master Kingsley to get you to join us…?”
I raked my teeth over my bottom lip.
Tate laughed and shook his head. “Nope. I opted out. I have tests to
grade—and benefits to reap when Master comes home with a head full of
inspiration. Besides, they’re just there to humiliate Franklin.”
Ooh, nice strategy. I wanted to try something similar with my Daddies.
Like, at another event, we could just watch? And then go home and take out
our frustrations on each other.
So many possibilities!
“That’ll be fun to watch.” Macklin smirked lazily, then moved on.
“Okay, subbies! Everyone knows me already, but Archie’s still a newbie
with us. What he’s not new at is pasta.” He handed the proverbial
microphone over to Archie, who rose from a stool and smiled tiredly.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Archie, Master Greer’s slave. Before I talked him
into claiming me as his property—”
“As if he took long to wear down, babe,” Tate laughed.
Archie smirked, half proud, half smug. “Yes, well. My cooking sure
helped. And—long story short. I spent my twenties in and out of university,
and I was lucky enough to take a quick class in pasta making in Naples.
Which works out great because Macklin’s primarily schooled in northern
Italian cooking, where the pasta has an extra ingredient. Eggs.”
Macklin nodded and folded his arms over his chest. “Today, we’re
going to make two kinds. Tagliatelle from northern Italy, and cavatelli from
the south.” He began bringing out ingredients from the shelf below their
worksurface. “Underneath your counters, you’ll find everything you need.
Flour, semolina, durum flour, eggs, and salt. You can bring it all up.”
Alrighty, I got cracking right away. There was one of those pasta makers
too—like, the ones that rolled out spaghetti and whatnot. Meanwhile, Cam
raised his hand.
 “Yeah, hon?” Macklin replied.
“Is there a way to skip the salt?” Cam wondered. “I’m aiming for low
sodium with Master.”
Hm, he raised a good point. Could Master eat pasta all he wanted? I
mean, there was no white sugar in there, but it was a white carb. So…
maybe in moderation…?
“That’s not a problem,” Archie assured. He sounded a bit British. “The
salt goes in the water, not the dough, and you can absolutely skip it.”
“Okay, great. Thank you.” Cam ducked down and grabbed the bowl of
eggs.
“As you can see,” Macklin went on, “there are no mixers or
KitchenAids here. We’ll be doing everything by hand—except for the
tagliatelle. I’m not a Sadist.”
“But you are a liar,” Lane muttered behind me.
I slapped a hand over my mouth and giggled.
“What was that, baby?” Macklin cupped his ear, having heard Lane.
“Nothing, chef!” Lane insisted. “I think it was Nora who said
something, actually.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up—I did not.” Nora smacked Lane’s arm. “Sköt dig,
jag är här för att komma närmre du-vet-vem.”
Okaaay, that was a language I didn’t recognize.
Lane chuckled. “Åh, slap af.”
What the crap. I glanced back at them. “Where are you from?”
Before any of them could answer, Macklin cleared his throat loudly, and
the sound was so close that I sort of went rigid before I spun forward again.
Gulp. He was right in front of me, on the other side of the counter.
Crap, crap, crap!
Switch or not, the look in his eyes was all Dom. He had warm features,
from his dark-ish hair to his intense hazel-brown eyes, but that stare was
cutting through me. And despite being in his early thirties—I didn’t recall
exactly—he could come off as someone much older.
“One’s a Swede, and the other’s my half-Danish boyfriend,” he stated.
“And maybe that’s more interesting than learning how to make pasta for
your Owners?”
Heat bled onto my cheeks, and the mortification threatened to swallow
me whole. I’d been disrespectful! I fucking sucked!
 “N-no, Sir,” I stammered. “I’m sorry.” I’m so sorry. Please tell me I
didn’t screw this up—
“Good.” The severity in his gaze softened, and he leaned forward and
stunned me by kissing the corner of my mouth. “Eyes on me now, pet.” He
was gone a beat later, returning to his counter.
“Fuck me,” I mouthed. I felt all shaky, dammit.
Someone in the back whistled, resulting in chuckles from a few others.
Yeah, I was going to behave now.
“Dude,” Cam whispered.
“I know.” I swallowed and wiped my suddenly clammy hands off on my
pants.

I swore it took the better half of an hour for my blush to fade, and by then,
we all each had two balls of dough resting inside cling film on the counters.
My head was also full of information that I was busy jotting down, from
something called double zero flour to semolina, the importance of fresh
eggs, preferably free-range and large, and the secret to a perfect pasta dough
was “an extra yolk.”
A server from downstairs came up with soft drinks and snacks, and
when Cam offered to grab me something, I thanked him and nodded. Sprite
Zero was hardly the go-to soda when refreshments were brought without
preorders, so whatever worked. In the meantime, I was a good boy and
wrote down everything I could remember.
I was going to buy drying racks and a pasta machine tomorrow.
Daddy loved pasta, and I was sure Master did too.
For next class—if there was one—I was going to bring a notebook. I
had to settle for my phone for now.
Let the dough rest for a minimum of 30 minutes.
All of a sudden, a shadow fell over me, and I stood up straighter, only to
back into something solid.
Macklin!
“Can I see your notes?” His low voice hit my ear, causing me to shiver,
and then I felt a hand on my hip.
Holy crapamoly of shudders.
 I swallowed dryly and nodded, holding up the phone to him.
He was right there. Leaning over my shoulder. If I tilted my head, I’d
freaking kiss his cheek, and not even I was that awkward.
He hummed as he read from my screen.
“I have a couple notes too,” he murmured. Then he retrieved his own
phone. “They’re from Dean.” His mouth twitched with mirth, though there
was something else too. I inched away enough to get a glimpse of his eyes,
and they carried traces of concern. “I daresay my brother-in-law is beyond
fucking attached.”
What?
I dropped my gaze to his screen and saw the message.
Take that tone with my boy again, and we’re going to have a problem,
Macklin. This isn’t Franklin or Lane. We’re not that stern with him yet, if
we ever will be. Make sure you didn’t hurt him.
Gosh—the warmth that washed over me nearly melted me into a
puddle. My eyes even smarted, and I didn’t like that. It seemed like too
much. But…fuck, I… He meant so much to me. More than I’d expected
this early, to be honest. Because I’d told myself to be careful around Dean,
since he hadn’t—initially—been so keen on going all in like Santiago. Now,
though, everything had changed, and it would kill me if I lost either of
them.
“I’m sorry, Gael—”
“No!” I cleared my throat and blinked back my emotions, and I shook
my head. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “It’s not you—you didn’t
hurt m-me, I swear. It was just his text. He’s…um, I like him so much.”
He faced me fully, not convinced yet. “Are you sure I didn’t come off
too strong?”
I exhaled a laugh and sniffled, feeling ridiculous. “I mean, my heart
jumped up in my throat, but yeah, I’m sure.”
“Gael!” someone called. Lane. He was over by the refreshments table.
“Don’t let him scare you, okay? Say the word and I’ll deal with him. I have
permission from Master McKenna.”
Oh my goodness, we had to tone things down immediately. I didn’t
enjoy being the center of attention to this degree! Also, everyone was so
nice, and it made me feel like crap for having pushed them away before.
“Can you let me fucking deal with this?” Macklin responded to him,
half irritated, but he had laughter in his eyes too. “Goddamn brats.”
 I couldn’t help it—a snicker burst out. I was a brat too, according to
Daddy!
Macklin narrowed his eyes playfully at me, and he leaned closer. “Can’t
live with them, can’t live without them.”
Crap, he was making me blush again. It sucked!
“I apologize either way,” he murmured. “Like Dean pointed out, I’m
used to subs and degradation sluts. But you…are fucking adorable.” He
closed the distance between us and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Can I tell
you one thing?”
I nodded dumbly. His face was right there, and I couldn’t hide my
reaction to him. He was so damn handsome. And he thought I was
adorable? I could live with that.
He smiled a little. “It’s totally fine to fall for Dean. He’s not going
anywhere. I’ve never seen him like this.”
It’s totally fine to fall for Dean. As if I had a choice at this point. It’d
already started.
It made me grin, and somehow I found my courage. “You should take
some credit, Sir. You did push us together after all.”
“I did, didn’t I?” His own grin was pure sex, and I…I wanted. I wanted,
and I wanted to show my Daddies, who were undoubtedly watching.
I bit my lip. It was my turn. I needed to make the next move, and I
wanted to be brave for this stuff. He wasn’t going to shoot me down, right?
I mean, he’d been so straightforward and honest with me.
“Pet?”
Crap, I was staring at his mouth. “Yes, Sir?”
“Kiss me.”
Yes, Sir!
Heat flooded my face, but I pressed forward. I took that final step, and I
reached up and kissed him carefully.
He didn’t have a trimmed beard like Daddy and Master, just some
stubble—and the softest lips. Goodness. Unsure of where to put my hands, I
tentatively placed them on his upper abdomen, and I felt his muscles tense
up. Then he cupped my cheek and deepened the kiss, and right then and
there, with people around us, I tasted his tongue against mine, however
briefly.
It was totally Shay who wolf-whistled—because I heard him go, “Nice
foreplay for Thursday!”
 And then Tate followed with a chuckled, “Let them be, brat.”
Macklin grinned into the kiss, and it made me grin too.
Oof, I got a little dizzy when I broke away and looked up at him.
“I think it’s safe to say we have chemistry,” he whispered.
I nodded.
Yeah. Um, yeah.
“I’m gonna go help Archie take out the cooktops for the pasta sauce.”
He held my chin and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Preferably
before he falls asleep in the corner.”
I flicked a glance over there, and sure enough, Archie was struggling to
stay awake. He was literally standing up, leaning against the wall, and his
eyelids seemed super heavy. And it made me frown, ’cause that wasn’t
right.
“Is he okay, Sir?” I had to ask.
Macklin looked over there too, and he sighed. “I have a feeling I know
what’s going on, but—come on. Let’s go ask him.”
Oh, me too? Yeah, okay.
He even grabbed my hand, and it was almost too much. Because a
bajillion fucking hells, was this my life now? Owners, future play partners,
friends…? Belonging to a community? Was this what that was like?
Not for the first time, I took Kit’s reminder to heart. Never ask a Dom to
pinch you because it felt like you were living in a dream.
Archie tried to look alive as we approached, and he scrubbed a hand
over his face. “Is it time to get the burners?”
“Not yet.” Macklin gave my hand a squeeze before he released me, and
he folded his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up with
you, hon?”
Archie waved it off while stifling a yawn. “I’m just a bit tired.”
“A bit tired?” Macklin retorted. “You passed tired and cruised right into
exhausted before you got here.”
That made Archie chuckle, and this time he couldn’t withhold his yawn.
“Fine. It’s…” He let out a sigh. “It’s Master. He’s been pushing me more
lately, and I’m only trying to adjust.”
I scrunched my nose. That didn’t sound like Master Greer—from what
I’d observed online, or at the house in Mclean. He always seemed so
attentive to Archie’s and Corey’s needs. And Sloan’s, for that matter.
“Pushing in what way?” Macklin asked.
 “Preparations for spring, mostly.” No matter how tired he was, Archie
clearly loved whatever spring meant for him too. His blue eyes lit up a bit.
“We’re almost done with the planting beds, and two hens are hatching soon
—”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s—that’s great,” Macklin said. “But is this a
temporary thing, or is he just piling more chores on you?”
Archie knitted his brows together. “What do you mean? Of course I’m
taking on more chores permanently. I didn’t start out doing everything—
we’re easing into things.”
I cocked my head, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Have you told him
you’re tired?”
“That.” Macklin pointed at me. “Because I’ve known Greer almost ten
years, and he wouldn’t exhaust you for no reason. He would, however, push
you to be more honest if he feels you’re not communicating properly. Are
you taking on those extra chores with a smile on your face?”
Judging by the look on Archie’s face, something was dawning on him.
Doubt, realization, more doubt, then resignation flitted by in his expression,
until he palmed his face and groaned.
Macklin chuckled. “He knows you’re fucking spent, Arch. But he’s
gonna keep adding shit to your plate till you do what you’re supposed to—
which is tell him.”
Yup, always tell the Owners. I’d learned that much! It was possible I
told Daddy and Master too much, ’cause I often rambled in the car about
everything and nothing, though they seemed to like it.
Archie blew out a breath. “I should go call him.” He checked his watch.
“Did you drive here?” Macklin wondered.
Archie shook his head. “I came in with Master this morning—with
Kyla. He told me to—” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Now I can see it.
Some of the tasks he’s given me are so unlike him. He told me to clean
Corey’s place, which I only do when the kids have been there. Otherwise,
Corey and Sloan make sure it’s presentable.”
And I thought Daddy’s house was far away. No wonder Greer and his
family were keeping Corey’s condo in town, because Winchester, where
their farm was…? It was a solid ninety-minute drive.
“Or maybe I should wait.” Archie hesitated. “Master’s had a long day. I
bet he’s napping with Kyla at Corey’s. I don’t want to wake him—”
 “That’s exactly what you’re gonna do,” Macklin told him. “Trust me,
it’s one of the toughest things to learn as a slave, but there are times when
you gotta put yourself before him, and that time is now. And I bet my
restaurant he’ll agree with me.”
“I’ll bet Macklin’s restaurant also,” I interjected. I was very confident in
this matter because I’d read so many entries online from our founding
members, and it was all about how the Owner’s desires went before the
sub’s, but the sub’s needs came before the Owner’s. So, yeah.
“Oh, you do, huh?” Macklin chuckled and threw an arm around my
shoulders. I smiled impishly and nodded, to which he turned back to
Archie. “There you have it. You go call Greer—ask him to come pick you
up earlier—”
“Whoa, what?” Archie protested. “I’m not leaving you—”
“Why not?” Macklin shrugged. “I have a new assistant right here.”
Uh-oh! That was me! I just had to talk to Cam first and make sure he
was okay with it.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 12

Santiago Jones

A sthis.
entertaining as it had been to watch Gael on camera, it had nothing on
About two weeks had passed since I’d first introduced myself to
him, and I remembered him needing the frigid cold from outside to keep
from becoming too overwhelmed. He’d needed to freeze, shiver, and shake
in order to process what I was telling him. He’d stammered and blushed and
hesitated.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and traces of Gael’s timidity obviously
lingered. It’d be weird if they didn’t; two weeks was nothing. Besides, I
loved that blush—and every shy grin. But watching him now at the bar with
Tate and Cam revealed the boy he’d been before Caleb. He was carefree
and chatty, reveling in his budding friendships, and he looked at Tate as if
he were the older, cooler boy at school. Not unlike how Gael observed Shay
and Macklin.
One by one, the subs had left with two containers of pasta, with over-
the-shoulder goodbyes about when to meet up next time, see you on
Thursday, I’ll DM you online, see you at the Academy event, and so on.
And now, Gael was one of them. He was making plans with people.
For this, I had zero issues staying in the background. It made me so
fucking happy to watch him thrive.
Dean and I kept Gael’s two food containers on our table. We’d promised
not to open them.
Macklin had offered us a table in one of the dining rooms after the class,
but we were very content right here. The bar offered lounge furniture
instead, rock music, the cheese plate was incredible, and the wine was
nearby. Dean had offered to drive, so this guy was on his fourth glass of red.
Before I returned my attention to Dean, I spotted Macklin and Walker
coming out from the kitchen, and based on the disarray of the boy’s hair, I
could guess what they’d been up to in the office.
Walker was leaving, whereas Macklin was staying for work. He eased
right into Tate, Cam, and Gael’s conversation and poured them more wine.
Or a mocktail for Gael, who beamed when he received a Sprite with an
umbrella and something that slowly dyed the soda blue.
I smiled to myself and kissed Dean’s shoulder. Sitting side by side, we
could watch our boy laugh and chat with his new friends all night long if we
wanted. It was nearing nine, and the place was almost packed.
“Did you try this one, cariño?” I put a piece of soft Saint Agur on a
honey-walnut cracker for him.
He leaned forward. “Feed me.”
I grinned and brought the snack to his lips.
He chewed and nodded slowly. “Almost as good as that other one—
which was it with the clementine preserves?”
“The aged cheddar.” I wasn’t surprised to hear he’d liked the preserves;
my Werther’s man had one hell of a sweet tooth. The cheese board came
with three kinds, clementine preserves, fig jam, and a black cherry
conserve. As if that wasn’t enough, Macklin offered crumbled bacon,
grapes, the sweetest pears I’d ever tasted, and four types of crackers to go
with the eight cheeses.
“Sorry to intrude, fellas.” Walker came over as he buttoned his coat.
“Just thought I’d say goodbye. I have another hour or two of work to look
forward to.”
Work at this hour? Hell. But I knew both he and Macklin kept busy. It
was a good thing Walker’s office was right across the street.
“You work too much, little brother,” Dean said.
“I’ve never heard that before,” Walker chuckled.
“You could listen for a change,” Dean drawled.
“I’m workin’ on it.” Walker smirked. “I have a couple bigger projects
about to start, but things won’t be as busy as they were in Boston. That’s
something, right?”
Dean wasn’t impressed.
 Walker turned to me instead. “What time are y’all headin’ out to Mclean
on Thursday?”
I exchanged a glance with Dean. “We said around five…?”
He inclined his head.
“Around five—we’ll grab an early dinner on the way,” I replied to
Walker.
He nodded. “I reckon Macklin and I will be there around then, too.”
Yeah, I was definitely excited to see more of him, preferably pressed up
against me. Tonight’s innocent peep show in Macklin’s office had just
resulted in a few lingering looks between Walker, Dean, and me—nothing
said, nothing acted upon—but I sensed we were all looking forward to the
event. I wanted to see Macklin and Gael together, Macklin and Dean and
Gael, I wanted to be sandwiched between Dean and Walker, and I wanted…
shit, a lot of things. Walker had told me quite a bit about Franklin too. He
seemed to be an interesting character.
Unbeknownst to our subs, we’d joined a group chat—it included
Macklin since he was putting it all together—and we’d exchanged limits
and agreed to the safety measures already.
We had a similar chat for the themed event on Saturday, which would be
my first. Mclean House Academy. The plans were underway, everything
was ready, and our subs kept asking for details online.
Once Walker had left, Dean and I sank back into our little bubble, and I
asked if he had any expert advice on how these events worked. I mean, I
sure as hell saw the appeal for the Doms who got to taunt the brats by
withholding information, and the banter had reached a new level in the
online community the last couple of days. But I didn’t wanna be in a brat’s
shoes. I wanted to know everything beforehand.
“It’s actually my first event too,” Dean admitted.
“Really?” That was a surprise. “But you’ve been a member for years,
haven’t you?”
“I mean for this Game theme they’re doing,” he amended. “I think they
started that in June last year—something like that. Maybe July. Either way,
I wasn’t here then. The year before, they did more of a demo theme for
twelve monthly events. I participated in a few of those.”
Ah, that made more sense. I knew they liked to switch things up at
Mclean, something I’d missed in my previous communities. Granted, we’d
had occasional events, much like Mclean still ran event nights outside this
Game theme, but we’d lacked an upper management that lived and breathed
the lifestyle. Now I was finally a part of something like that, and I couldn’t
wait to get more involved.
“Did you see Reese’s latest update for the subjects?” Dean asked.
I nodded and chuckled. “It looks like I’m gonna be a PE coach with
Greer and Colt.”
He grinned faintly. “I saw that. And to no one’s surprise, I’m a professor
in history.”
Along with Kingsley, yeah. It was going to be fun. Holy hell, were we
gonna piss off brats.
Tomorrow, the subs were getting their acceptance letters to the
Academy, including information on dress code. Thank fuck I was a coach,
because otherwise I’d have to dig through Dean’s closet for appropriate
clothes.
“I hope someone’s filming.” I reached for my wine and threw a couple
grapes into my mouth. “I don’t wanna miss anything.”
“We should film Gael when he gets his letter.” Dean grinned.
“Fuck, absolutely. I’ll keep him busy till you come home from work.”
I’d already told Reese to use my address for Gael’s letter.
Dean smiled and leaned in, and I kissed him.
“In the spirit of full honesty, I love the sound of that. Till I get home
from work.”
Fuck me. He really was coming around. It was impossible to kill my
smile, and I bet we looked as cheesy as I wanted us to be. We brushed our
lips together again, and I took a deep breath and just…fucking loved the
moment.

“Also, before I forget,” Gael yawned. “Can I go with Cam after work next
week? We’re gonna buy pasta makers, and he needs new swimwear for
their cruise in a few weeks.”
I’d heard about the cruise. Colt and Lucas had let me know there was
still time to join, and I was sorely tempted, but…maybe it would be too
soon, and I wasn’t sure Dean could take time off work.
 “What day are you heading out with Cam?” I glanced at him in the
rearview and grinned to myself. He’d had such a big day that he was about
to fall asleep.
“Um, we were thinking Tuesday, ’cause we know Kit doesn’t work
then, and we wanna ask him to tag along.” Gael leaned against the window
and closed his eyes. “Today was so awesome.”
I reached across the center console and grabbed Dean’s hand, and he
gave mine a squeeze.
“Tuesday sounds great,” I answered.
Dean glanced back at our boy, his expression pensive, though he didn’t
say anything.
A vacation together could wait. Now that we were all on the same page,
it would do us some good to settle into new routines, finding a balance
between the sleepovers I’d grown addicted to and accepting that they had
their own places. Plus, they worked in town. Maybe I’d suggest we stay at
Dean’s condo soon.
“I want to give him a credit card,” Dean said quietly. “Do you think it’s
too soon?”
I side-eyed him. “You’re thinkin’ about the pasta maker?”
He nodded. “I don’t want him to pay for things he’ll use when he’s
serving us.”
It was a good idea. I hadn’t thought that far myself; I’d assumed we’d
give him cash for shit he bought that would undoubtedly end up at my
house, but a credit card was better. We wouldn’t have to make sure he
always had money, in case he stumbled upon something.
“We can discuss it with him tomorrow,” I replied, switching on the turn
signal. “If he’s uncomfortable with it, we’ll settle for cash for now.”
I flicked another glance in the rearview. Sweet boy, if he wasn’t asleep,
he was mere seconds away.
“Speaking of things that might be too soon…” I slowed down as our
exit came up. “You hear about the cruise they’re all going on in April?”
Well, technically, they set sail at the very end of March.
He narrowed his eyes, thinking, then nodded slowly. “Yes, Walker and
Macklin are going.”
That didn’t surprise me.
“I’m afraid it would be difficult for me to get away from work,” Dean
replied. “But if you and Gael—”
 “Hey—” I frowned and shook my head. “No. While I think it’s
important we create our own connections—you and me, you and Gael, me
and him—I’d prefer if we took our vacations together.”
He grabbed my hand again and kissed it. “No argument from me.
Maybe we can do something else? I can’t be gone four or five days, but I do
have a cabin of my own, you know. We could go up there that weekend.”
Oh hell, I’d forgotten about that. I’d never been there, of course, but
he’d shared a story once how he’d written one of his first books there. If I
remembered correctly, the cabin was in Pennsylvania.
I could think of worse things than cozying it up with Dean and Gael for
a whole weekend.

I checked the time as I carried my laptop over to the kitchen table. Okay,
good. Lunchtime on the West Coast. I was done with my own work, so now
I could continue not buying the bullshit Caleb was selling—until Gael and
Dean came home.
I poured myself a cup of coffee too.
Once I was seated, General trailed into the kitchen, stretched out a bit,
and then went over to his water bowl.
You better tolerate dogs one day, friend.
It was becoming clear that I was the minority in our triad. To be fair,
Dean and Gael both liked dogs as well, but they were currently owned by a
cat.
General eventually trailed over to me, and he pressed himself up against
my leg and circled it.
“Little daddy will be home in an hour, and big Daddy in about three,” I
told…a fucking cat. Great, I was talking to a cat.
Before I logged on to Facebook, I checked my phone for messages. It
was the first time Gael was borrowing my truck, and she could be cranky to
drive sometimes. She had…quirks. But I’d warned him, and the drive into
town this morning had gone off without a hitch.
“All right, let’s see where you are, motherfucker.” I went to Caleb’s
profile, and, like clockwork, he’d just posted his lunch photo.
Enjoy your shitty salad.
 I clicked on the photo and saved it, then opened it in another software to
check the metadata. Time stamp, same device as always, location. I
hummed and took another swig of my coffee. So far, so good. He was in
California—unless, and this was highly unlikely, he had someone else
taking fresh photos and posting them for him. I mean, it was possible, but it
didn’t fit his profile one bit. He was a pain in the ass, not a master criminal.
I did have an ace up my sleeve for occasional double-checks. I had
access to his credit card activity, and—
My phone rang, the display lighting up with Gael’s goofy grin, and it
got me every goddamn time. I smiled and answered the call.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hi! I’m just about to wrap up at work,” he said, a little out of breath.
“It’s been so busy today! But I wanted to call and ask if there’s anything
you want me to buy on the way?”
I glanced over at the kitchen island, where I had everything prepped for
dinner. “Nope, we’re all good. I just need you and Dean here.”
“Then I’ll be on my way in five minutes! See you soon, Sir!”
“Soon, querido.” I ended the call and released a breath.
They’d already become the fixture that turned my house into a home.
Nowadays, I was working my way through contracts and tasks in order to
just be done, to be able to shift my attention to the future—whether that
future was later in the afternoon when I saw Gael and Dean again, or it was
further down the road. Dreams, plans, changes to the backyard, vacations,
what our living situation might look like one day.
For twenty years, work had kept me going. Work had been everything.
Starting when I got my first beat as a rookie cop to when I made detective.
It took all my energy, all my focus, and it distracted me from fading visions
and diminishing hope. I couldn’t fucking go back to that—not even an
ounce of it. Because if I’d learned one thing since I’d managed to drag Gael
and Dean into my fold, it was that my life looked a whole lot brighter when
I had those two to share it with. And whenever I was home alone, like right
now, I was just waiting. I functioned on autopilot to finish our renovations,
and I worked like I was supposed to, but I had an impatient guy sitting in
the back of my head checking his watch and counting down the minutes till
the door opened.
I needed music. It was too quiet here.
“Alexa, play the playlist Not Approved by Dean on Spotify,” I said.
 She obeyed like Dean didn’t.
He could bitch and moan when he got here. He put up with my Latin
pop and rock but drew the line at what he referred to as bro country. He
called it nonsense—or worse, boybands missing their bandmembers and
wailing about it.
Even Dean had his flaws.
To make time go faster, I checked the online forum on my phone and
got a quick chuckle when I saw Nora had changed our dynamic. She’d
listed herself as my Owner on her profile. Fucking wonderful. That only
meant one thing: the brat wanted attention.
I shot her a DM.
I’ll keep listing myself as your brat tamer on my page, even though
I’m clearly doing a shit-poor job at it. How you doing, honey?
She’d been recruited from another community, just like I had. We’d
become reluctant friends last year at an event—and reluctant wasn’t the
right word. We just didn’t have much in common, nor did we move in the
same circles, until now. She’d tended to stick to her lesbian group of friends
or a kink community called Old Town, and I’d…had work. And yet, we’d
met by accident at a party, and we’d ended up talking all night. I’d sort of
become her older brother over months of texting and occasional coffee
meetups, and she’d turned into my mother. She was a good kid. We didn’t
talk often, but she texted every now and then to make sure I ate and slept.
I sipped my coffee and scrolled through the comments in The Game
group. A few subs had posted photos of the acceptance letters they’d
received today.
Damn, Gael better not have seen this already.
Ah, Noa. His comment made me chuckle.
OK SO I GOT THIS IN THE MAIL AND DADDY SAID, I GUESS
THEY LET ANYBODY IN. THANKS?!
KC knew exactly how to handle his boy, that much was clear.
Tate had posted a comment as well.
I’m just going to say one thing. Fuck yes, dress code! We’re going to
be a stylish bunch on Saturday!
I smirked at the next one from Sloan.
Remember, brats. Any offenses will be reported to Headmaster Walker
and Headmistress Penelope.
And Corey’s that followed…
 @TheMechanic Don’t be such a snitch, Daddy. (I’m so gonna pay for
that!)
Shay was sharp. He asked the right question.
Define offenses, Sir…
Unfortunately for him, right and wrong didn’t matter—because Greer
delivered the response of a Sadist.
@LilFighterpup, that’s none of your business.
Yeah, this was gonna be fun. Gael’s acceptance letter waited for him in
a cupboard where I’d hidden it.
I drank some more of my coffee, just in time for my DM icon to get that
little red dot, indicating a new message. Nora had replied.
I’m boooored. And sort of embarrassed. I tried to friend Mistress
Penelope, and she denied the request. :| I’m hoping it’s because she only
friends people she actually knows, but IDK. Otherwise, life is great or
something! How are you, Busy Bee Daddy? Your triad is all over the
gossip news.
Hm. I couldn’t speak for Penelope, though I bet that stung. Nora had
harbored a crush on Penelope for a while. It was one of the reasons Nora
had joined Mclean.
I messaged her back.
I’ll put in a good word for you with Pen on Saturday. Life is great or
something? You know what I think about vague answers. Spill.
Let them talk. I’m very happy with everyone knowing Dean and Gael
are mine. ;)
In fact… Once I’d sent the DM, I went back to my profile and added
two dynamics.
Daddy of @Button
Ruler of @TheHistorian
There. That felt ridiculously good. And if Gael saw the notification
immediately, maybe it would distract him from the messages raining down
in the event group.
Or send him straight there.

“Are these good, Daddy?”

 I glanced over at him and inspected his work. “Even smaller, baby. You
want it as finely chopped as possible.”
“Got it!” He gathered the pile of chopped carrots and began cutting
them into smaller pieces. “Soffritto—am I saying that right?”
“Perfectly. That’s what you make from battuto.” I grinned to myself and
dumped the chopped celery into the pan. “Soffritto is the finished result.”
“Ohhh.” He bobbed his head in understanding, and possibly because he
couldn’t stop moving when music was playing. “And it’s the base of some
sort in the food—I’m learning.”
Yeah, he sure was. It made me stupidly happy that he wanted to cook
with me.
Every now and then, he ran over to the kitchen window because “Daddy
was late.”
I couldn’t deny that I loved that he called Dean Daddy sometimes, more
so than the Master title. But that was only because my fetish was my fetish.
It appealed to me more than regular D/s. Additionally, Dean was turning
into a wonderful Daddy. I mean, Gael was developing that side of Dean. To
my knowledge, he’d never identified as a Daddy before.
“Four minutes late now,” Gael huffed and returned to the island. “I want
him to see the dynamic stuff right this second!”
“He’s probably stuck in traffic,” I reasoned.
“As long as he doesn’t check the forum before—I don’t wanna miss his
reaction.” He snickered to himself, still finding it hilarious that I’d listed
myself as Dean’s ruler.
In return, Gael had added us to his profile too, and he’d had the sweetest
smile on his face while doing it. He was our boy and property.
I remembered when MySpace and Facebook became the next big thing,
but social media had never really spoken to me. I’d started account after
account, constantly forgetting my email and password. And here I was
today, all but giddy about status changes.
I shook my head to myself.
You’re forty-two, man.
Oh, whatever. I was happy. The dynamics were a public declaration,
though more than that, a testament to us. To me. We were doing this; we
wanted to be together. It was real.
By the time Gael was done with the carrots, I was adding the onion to
the pan, and that was when we heard a car pull in.
 “He’s here!” Gael gasped. Then he was sprinting out of the kitchen.
Looked like I didn’t have to distract him from the event group after all.
So far, not a word about the acceptance letters.
“Hi, Daddy, you’re late! Late is unacceptable!”
Dean laughed gruffly. “I said I’d be home around six, didn’t I? How are
you, my peach?”
I listened to them greeting each other while I put the pan on the stove
and poured some olive oil into the mixture. I had to rub my jaw too,
because I’d been smiling too much lately. Their fault, obviously. Gael’s
excitement—but also his politeness and concern for others. He always
wanted to know how work had been, what we were doing, how things
worked, and if everything was good. He cared so genuinely, and he was
constantly on standby to help out.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so cool,” he was saying. “I’m gonna watch all the
other documentaries with you in them next week. I tracked them all down!”
He made people feel special and important.
I upped the heat a bit and shifted the bowls with the other ingredients
closer to the stove. Ground lamb, Italian sausage, mushrooms, bell peppers,
the tomato sauce I’d prepared earlier today, herbs and spices—
“I forgot to tell you about the best thing that happened today,” I heard
Dean say. I peered out toward the hallway but could only see the back of
Gael’s head. “Your lunch. The pasta was amazing, baby.”
I grinned, glad I’d waited with mine. I’d tasted both kinds Gael had
made at the class, and I’d decided to freeze mine until next week when I
knew I had a lot of work. Four new contracts, one of them from the
government. I’d need my arsenal of pick-me-ups.
A few seconds later, Gael and Dean emerged, and the latter smiled at
me and walked over.
He hugged me from behind and kissed my neck, all while Gael rambled
about the documentaries Dean had participated in over the years.
“So you’re my ruler, huh?” he murmured close to my ear.
I set down the spatula and turned around in his arms. “Good, you saw
it.”
He hummed and kissed me. “If you act like a brat, I ought to punish you
like one too.”
I chuckled, teasing the tip of my tongue against his. “Sounds like a good
time to me. Maybe you can fuck me really hard and put me in my place.”
 That one amused him. “I said punish, not reward.”
“Are you listening, Daddies?” Gael grated out. “This is important stuff.
It’s Master’s entire catalogue! I have it here in my phone.”
“We’re listening,” I chuckled into the kiss. Then I dropped my tone
again and spoke for only Dean to hear. “Now, where were we on that
reward?”
His smirk formed slowly, and he nipped at my bottom lip. “How about I
fuck you as hard as I adore you?”
Jesus.
I shivered and locked my arms around his neck, and we deepened the
kiss. Hell, I fucking melted against him, and lust burned through me as I
tasted him. Maybe Gael and I should join Dean in the shower. He always
wanted to take a shower after work, and dinner wouldn’t be ready for a
while anyway.
“Mmm…but it’s gonna have to wait,” he said, slowing the kiss down.
Wait, what? “I want us properly riled up for tomorrow.”
What the flying fuck. I might not be twenty anymore, or thirty, but
come on. We’d done something every night we’d spent together so far.
Whether it was just a blow job or a long, hard, sweaty fuck, there’d been
something.
“You can’t make that decision,” I protested. “I’m your ruler.”
Dean let out a laugh.
And Gael ran over to us. “I heard ruler! Did you already see, Master?
Mine also?”
“I did,” Dean chuckled and hugged the boy to him. “I’ll admit, I
couldn’t stop smiling.”
“That’s the goal.” Our boy offered his signature goofy grin.
Since there wouldn’t be any “unboxing reaction” where Dean initially
saw that I was now his ruler, we might as well go to the next best thing.
Actually, it would be even better. Perhaps it would distract me from the
devastating notion of going without sex until tomorrow night too.
“On a semi-related topic, you got a letter today, Gael.” I walked over to
the corner cabinet where I’d stashed the letter. “I asked Reese to send it to
my house.”
“Huh?” He was one part nervous and four parts curious as I held out the
envelope to him.
 It was the fancy stuff. Black envelope with a red wax seal on it, and
Lucas and Sloan had put together a logo for the academy. Sloan being an
illustrator and tattoo artist, Lucas being a graphic designer. Mclean House
went all out. The logo could not look more prestigious and official—except
when you looked closer, some details stood out. Two majestic horses
flanked the MH for Mclean House, and the skirts of the tails had been
replaced by floggers. The lines that framed “Academy” were made of rope,
and you could spot two sets of handcuffs in the vinery along the sides.
“Oh my gosh.” Gael brushed a finger over the embossed logo, his
nervousness fading. He knew it was about the event.
Dean stepped back and brought out his phone, presumably to film.
“Read it out loud, baby,” I told the boy.
“Yes, Sir.” Gael opened the letter and pulled it out, and the front read
Acceptance Letter. Then he unfolded it. “‘Dear Little Gael Grimes, we are
delighted to inform you that you’ve been accepted at Mclean House
Academy.’” He snapped his head up and beamed. “This is so cool—but I
don’t remember applying!”
I cracked up and absently stirred the vegetables on the stove.
“Oh—are you filming, Daddy?”
“Absolutely,” Dean chuckled. “Keep going.”
Gael flushed, half scowling, half grinning, and dropped his gaze.
“‘After extensive interviews with your Owners, we are confident that you
will suffer sufficiently in our care.’ I have no doubt!” He snickered.
“Classes begin on Saturday, and you will report to Headmaster McKenna
and Headmistress Darling in the Great Hall at 5 PM. There, you will meet
your Professors and Coaches. Welcome to Mclean House Academy. Don’t
be late.’ And, um…there’s a bunch of information down here,” he
mumbled, squinting. “Oh, there’s a dress code—but I think I have all this.
White button-down, black underwear, black shoes. No pants?”
“You’ll be provided with dress shorts and a tie there,” I replied. “Does it
say anything about the subjects?”
“Umm…” He shifted from one foot to the other, then grinned
sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. Geometry, history, English, PE, and biology. But I
suck at math, Daddyyy. Can I only take history?”
Dean rumbled a chuckle, and I shook my head in amusement.
Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 13

Gael Grimes

B utterflies.
Are.
Having.
An.
Orgy.
In.
My.
Tummy.
I clutched Santiago’s hand tighter as we headed up the porch steps, and
Master walked behind us with the pizza we’d bought on the way.
On a regular day, I could scarf down half a pizza without issues. Today,
I’d call it a success if I managed a single slice, which was why I’d
suggested we only buy one. And they’d both rejected that at first, stating
they were hungry. In the end, they’d ordered a large pie.
If I just kept thinking about pizza, maybe I’d forget I was about to have
one of my biggest fantasies ever come true.
Or I’d throw up.
Whichever came first.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. In the very back of my head, I
still had wounded little voices saying I didn’t belong here, that I was too
chubby to be desired, that I was too awkward for anyone to enjoy being
around me, and that I was going to spoil everyone’s fun—but I did my best
to ignore every comment. I couldn’t magically regain my carefree
confidence overnight, and my Owners knew that. They’d promised me at
least one of them would remain by my side tonight.
No music welcomed us once we stepped inside the house, though I
could hear voices coming from upstairs, maybe both the second and the
third floors.
“Fucking hell, I’m starving,” Dean muttered behind me.
Daddy glanced back at him. “Did you take your ins—”
“Not yet. I will, Dad.”
I laughed nervously, wondering how they could keep up normal banter
on an evening like this. Or afternoon. Whatever. Gosh, my stomach felt all
unsettled!
“You go to the kitchen,” Daddy told us. “I’ll bring our bags to the guest
room.”
Right, he’d booked us a room for the night.
“Hurry, darling,” Dean replied.
I wordlessly followed Master to the kitchen, remembering the last time
I’d walked down this hallway to see Reese in his office.
The kitchen was empty, yet whispering of good times. Countless picture
frames hung on the short-end walls with photos from parties and events.
Dean set the pizza box on the big table before walking over to the cabinets
to find napkins. That’s what I assumed, at least. We had soda, and we didn’t
need utensils.
He also brought out his insulin kit and semi-discreetly attached a new
needle to the pen and injected himself in the side of his stomach. Then he
righted his shirt and peered out one of the windows.
He’d taken out his monitor earlier, the one that was usually attached to
his arm and kept track of his glucose levels.
“Walker and Macklin just pulled into the carport.”
Oof. My tummy twisted and turned.
“How are you not nervous about tonight, Sir?” I had to ask.
“Hmm?” He turned back to me after discarding the needle. “Why would
I be nervous, baby? The only two who matter in the end are you and
Joshua.”
The only two who matter in the end…
I needed to remember that.
“I’m crushed, Dean!” someone hollered down the hall.
 I hurriedly poked my head out the doorway, finding one of the Tenleys
leaving the office. As soon as I spotted the tattoo on his neck, I knew it was
Reese.
I grinned. “Hi, Sir.”
“Hey, kiddo.” He ruffled my hair as he passed me and walked into the
kitchen. “I don’t matter to you?”
“Least of all you,” Dean drawled. He had a sexy glint in his eyes. “How
are you, dear?”
“I’m fantastic. About to get a live porn show with my brother and our
boy.” Reese headed over to the fridge and opened it. “Y’all better carb up.
We have high expectations.”
I giggled under my breath and sat down at the table, where I shrugged
out of my jacket.
“Are you throwing that boy of yours to the wolves?” Dean wondered.
“We thought about it.” Reese grabbed a few bottles of water and closed
the fridge again. “In the end—Shay wasn’t really feelin’ it this mornin’
when we woke up, and we’re evidently too territorial. I reckon we’ll wait
till we get an opportunity to watch him with Lane and Macklin. I wanna
have a word with Kingsley too—see if we can add Tate to the mix.”
Goodness, I would watch that! Two switches, two subs, four primal
prey.
“Yes, that possessiveness—I’ve discovered a thing or two about that
lately.” Dean was watching me when he said it, and it made me squirm in
my seat and feel all warm.
“I can imagine.” Reese shot me a quick wink and started making his
way out again. “Take your time. Not everyone’s here yet. KC texted to say
they’d be late.”
“Are the rest upstairs?” Dean asked. “Not counting Walker and
Macklin. They’re coming up the path now.”
“Yessir.” Reese flashed the same kind of two-finger wave I’d seen Shay
give the other day. Like Daddy, like Middle? “See y’all up there.”
Pizza, pizza, pizza, focus on pizza.
I should’ve known Macklin was going to kill most of my nerves, though not
before my Daddies had reassured me they had zero desire to stray too far
away from me tonight. It was my first time, and they were more focused on
my comfort. But yeah, Macklin’s subtle flirting while we ate also worked.
He and Master Walker had brought takeout from Macklin’s restaurant,
which seemed to make Santiago slightly envious. Master and I, however,
we loved the pizza! As long as I ate it slowly and didn’t think about what
was to come.
“If Macklin weren’t here, I would’ve offered you my meal for a couple
slices,” Walker told Santiago. And that made Macklin narrow his eyes. “But
my boy is here, and I appreciate his concerns for my diet oh-so much.”
“I’m not going to apologize for wanting you around till I’m ninety,
Owner,” Macklin stated.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and dropped my crust in the pizza
box.
“That might be asking too much, my love.” Walker reached over and
kissed Macklin’s cheek.
I didn’t wanna think about those things, and I could tell Macklin didn’t
like it either.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Dean said quietly. He was sharing an
exchange with Daddy. “If it makes you feel any better, my father didn’t die
of natural causes, the odds of my getting breast cancer like my mother are
certainly in our favor, and two of my grandparents lived to see ninety-
seven. The other two lived to see Soviet soldiers.”
Macklin and I spluttered, and it was one of those super-funny, then
instantly feeling horrified, macabre joke moments. But Dean was smirking,
evidently pleased with his dark sense of humor. Walker had no qualms
about laughing either.
Only Santiago was unswayed. “How’s your blood pressure?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Probably better than yours. My last checkup, it
was 124/75. My eyesight is better than Walker’s, my insulin dose is fairly
low, my kidneys and cholesterol are fine, and I let a doctor stick a finger up
my ass every three years. Can we please move on now?”
I let out a breath and felt some tension leave me. Regardless of the
atmosphere that was split between Dean’s mild frustration and Daddy’s
worries—plus some mirth between everyone—I did feel relief. Not to
mention more understanding toward Kit and Cam, who were beginning to
get more involved in their partners’ health. Because we were dating men
who were so much older than us, so we had to catch up on the things that
were relevant for men in their forties and fifties.
“Better than dirty talk. Thank you.” Santiago leaned in and gave Dean a
smooch, and that sure improved his mood.
Macklin bit into a piece of carrot. “That was the realest conversation
I’ve ever witnessed right before an orgy.”
Pre-orgy ice: broken!
I couldn’t help but laugh.

It was impossible not to get nervous again as we climbed the stairs to the
third floor.
Master hugged me from behind and spoke quietly in my ear. “I wasn’t
joking earlier about my possessiveness, baby peach. No matter who we play
with, you’ll always feel my ownership of you.”
I drew a quick breath and turned around, and as if he sensed exactly
what I needed, he pulled me in for the tightest of hugs. I locked my arms
around his middle, and he all but enveloped me. His warmth, his claim on
me, his fragrance. Which, at the moment, was far too clean to let his natural
scents come through.
We’d scrubbed good and proper! Everywhere.
I peered up at him. “You and Daddy always come first—no pun
intended. I just want you to know that. I love your possessiveness.”
His smile reached his beautiful eyes, and he dipped down and rubbed
our noses together. “Just like you and Joshua come first for me. You’re the
cake, and you’re the icing. The others are that extra glass of wine you only
want sometimes.”
I giggled. “Or the extra chocolate bar?”
“Hmm.” He narrowed his eyes, thinking. “No. Chocolate is far too tasty,
kind of like you. The wine, I can easily resist.”
Gosh, I was gonna fall in love with this man.
“You two comin’, sweethearts?” I heard Santiago ask.
I glanced behind me, up the stairs, where Daddy waited. Macklin and
Walker had walked ahead.
 I was gonna fall in love with Santiago too. I’d already started.
“Yes, Sir,” I answered. “We were just discussing cake and chocolate.”
“And wine,” Dean added.
“And wine,” I echoed.
Daddy grinned, part confused, ’cause his forehead wrinkled a little. “I
guess you have your priorities in order.”
Dean and I chuckled. We totally did! We could resist wine.
On the way up, Dean diplomatically explained our metaphor to Daddy,
who instantly frowned and went, “Well, I need something else. Wine’s too
good. Maybe pizza or Chinese food. That’s a hankering I get a few times a
year.”
I gasped.
“How are we dating?” Dean asked, brow furrowed.
“He’s so healthy,” I claimed.
That made Master snort. “Boy, he just quit smoking a couple months
ago. He’s not that healthy.”
Whoa! Daddy used to smoke? “And you got on Master’s case about his
blood pressure,” I laughed.
“Oh fine, that’s enough outta you,” he chuckled and threw an arm
around me. “My little brat. Let’s go eat pizza.”
“Let’s have a glass of wine,” Dean corrected.
I grinned and nodded.
Being wrapped up in our bubble helped so much with the nerves, even
when we stepped into the room—and it was big! Holy crapamoly. It was
lined with couches on all sides, and the floor was covered in foam
mattresses. The theme was black and purple, and the lighting was dimmed,
which I totally liked. Not necessarily because of body issues but because it
created a cozy atmosphere. I spotted lit candles too, on narrow side tables
between the couches.
The Tenley triad looked comfy on one of the couches, where they’d
stripped down to underwear. And it was a little funny to see River drinking
coffee and reading a magazine, as if this was something else, something
casual. Reese and Shay were looking at something on a phone.
Oh—Franklin. I blinked. Umm. He was acting like a table or footrest
for Jack. Okaaay. Franklin was naked; Jack and Kingsley were not.
Santiago ushered me over to an empty couch once we’d taken off our
shoes and left them outside, and we ended up next to Macklin and Walker’s
couch.
“KC and Noa will be here in five,” Reese let us know. “Noa asks that
Franklin doesn’t slut around too much.”
Jack let out a laugh. “Yeah, and we can make pigs fly too.”
Kingsley smirked lazily and leaned back, threading his fingers together
across his stomach. He was an interesting Dom. Quiet and often blending
in, usually dressed in well-worn jeans and ratty hoodies, but there was no
question about his kinky identity when he spoke up.
He was similar to River that way, only River was much scarier!
“Let’s get some of these clothes off you, little one.” Daddy helped me
get rid of my sweater, pants, and socks, leaving me in a tee and briefs. After
that, I sat down on the couch and just kept looking around me.
It seemed every time I scanned the room, I saw something new. Like
bottles of lube here and there, condom dispensers attached to the walls, and
half a bar was spread out across the side tables. Macklin came prepared. He
poured a glass of whiskey or something like that for Walker, then offered
everyone else a drink too.
The alcohol bottles might come from right here, but it was Macklin
who’d brought a cooler with ice, lemons, limes, and chilled mixers.
“Can you make this Irish?” River held up his coffee mug.
“I wouldn’t mind a gin with ice and lemon,” Jack said.
“Would you like a drink?” Daddy murmured to me.
I thought about it as Master poured himself a glass of vodka with ice,
and I figured it couldn’t hurt to take the edge off with a little bit of
something. So I turned to Macklin.
“Sir? May I have a drink that’s not very strong?”
“You got it, pet,” he replied. “I have just the thing for you.” He shot me
a quick smile before he carried a drink for Jack and a bottle of whiskey over
to the other side of the room. On his way back, he picked a couple different
bottles from two tables—and a tall glass. One of the bottles was a lemon
vodka, and it made me a teensy bit nervous. I wasn’t a fan of strong drinks.
I curled up in the corner of the couch and watched him fill the glass
with ice first, then a small amount of vodka. Phew. I totally ignored Master
watching me with amusement in his eyes as he sipped his vodka. He was
joined by Walker, who said something too quietly for me to hear. Whatever
it was, Dean chuckled and shook his head.
“Not a chance,” he also said.
 I side-eyed Macklin when he poured something labeled Passoa into the
glass, and I shifted my attention to the brothers.
“Are you whispering about me, Sirs?” I narrowed my eyes.
Walker smirked. “You bet.”
“He correctly assumed we wouldn’t share you very often,” Master
murmured.
Oh. I grinned. Damn right!
“Here you go, hon. Sweet, a little tart, with a small kick, just like you.”
Macklin handed me the glass, and I beamed at him. He’d topped it with
Sprite and pineapple juice.
“Thank you so much!” I sniffed the drink and swore I could smell
passion fruit. I liked that! Then I took a tentative sip, and an explosion of
tropical flavors burst in my mouth. Passion fruit, pineapple, lemon, lime,
100% yum! And like he’d said, a small kick from the vodka. Goodness, this
was tasty. I sipped more and more—until Daddy laughed and grabbed the
glass from me.
“Slow and steady, baby.”
I licked my lips. “But it’s delicious.”
“So are you, and we don’t want you to pass out before—”
“We’re here!” I heard Noa yell somewhere. “Hold on, we’re on our
way!”
“Before everyone gets here,” Daddy chuckled.
Master, on the other hand, drained his drink completely. “Fuck. That
oughta make me more brat-resistant.”
I laughed. He was being silly.
Soon enough, Noa strode in with his Daddy in tow, and KC was
supporting himself on a cane. He was partially paralyzed from a skiing
accident, I’d learned from Cam. Sometimes he used a wheelchair,
sometimes a cane.
“Hello, all fuckable people and Franklin!” Noa exclaimed. “Look,
Daddy, Franklin’s a table. A slut table.”
I grinned and leaned against Daddy. Noa was so funny, and he had zero
filters. For once, also, I was not the shortest guy in the room. I had an inch
or two on him.
“You hear that, Riv?” Reese said quietly. “The boy called us fuckable.”
“I mean, he ain’t wrong.” River eyed Noa and drank from his spiked
coffee. “But I’m lookin’ forward to seeing someone shuttin’ him up.”
 “I think we all are,” Walker said, amused.
“Form a line. I’m ready.” Noa clearly thrived being the center of
attention, and he was visibly excited to see Santiago. “Hi, Santiago!” He
followed KC to the couch next to ours. “Hi, Gael!”
“Hi, Noa.” I waved.
“Hey, brat.” Daddy smiled. “You up to no good as usual?”
The banter and lighthearted conversation continued in the room, making
me wonder how these things went. Was there a start signal? Did someone
eventually go, okay, let’s fuck? Or did we talk ad nauseum and ease into
things? I mean, with River, for instance. Nobody who saw him now would
guess he was about to look at men having group sex. No, he was casually
chatting with Kingsley and sipping his coffee. Shay yawned and picked at
his belly button. KC and Daddy were bonding over brats and how both
knew Noa and Cam. Walker and Master were speaking quietly to each
other, and Macklin…
Okay, Macklin was stripping down to boxer briefs. It was a start.
I stole back my drink from Daddy, then turned to Macklin again.
“Macklin? What happens now?” I kept my voice down.
“I’ll tell you what happens.” He sat down on the other couch and patted
the spot next to him, so I hurried over to him and smiled at the flirty glint in
his eyes. “First of all, orgies, in my experience, are never what you see in
porn, at least not the lead-up. Last time, for instance…? I swear Master
Greer and some other Dom were talking about car insurance until I told
them to shut the fuck up. Which…I mean, that was a good way to get a
beating, and we got the ball rolling from there.”
I giggled and sipped my drink.
“I think, ultimately, it’s best to go to the person you wanna start with.”
He ghosted the backs of his fingers down my arm, causing me to shiver and
go numb. Was he hinting? “I talked to Noa this morning, and he wants to
see KC and Santiago together.”
That would be super hot. “It’s bizarrely sexy when Tops play,” I
admitted.
He flashed a quick grin. “It is. I made it clear that I wanted Santiago
between Master and Dean.”
Gosh yes, me too.
“One more thing—and you might call me a traitor for this.” He leaned
in closer, and I hauled in a breath and narrowed my eyes at him. “Dean’s
been waxing poetic about how beautifully you bruise, so I asked him to
demonstrate a spanking session.”
J’accuse!
“You are a traitor. Switches get stitches!”
He laughed and pulled me to him, and he took my drink from me and
placed it on the table on his side in the process. Before I could react, he
kissed me, and it was nuts how everything changed within me, how I went
from anticipation and curiosity to let’s get it on!
I shivered at how greedily he grabbed at me. He wasn’t shy, that was for
sure. He squeezed me to him and deepened the kiss, and I couldn’t help but
unleash all the wants. I climbed onto his lap, and he gave me a hum of
approval and palmed my butt.
A buzz of excitement tore through me, and it grew wilder when I
distinctly heard Master and Walker a few feet away. We had their attention;
they were watching us. I was so acutely aware of Dean, and I wanted to—
“Just feel, pet. Try to silence all thoughts.” Macklin cupped my face and
swirled his tongue around mine, and the movement was so slow and sensual
that I got goose bumps.
Just feel.
No more thinking.

Ouch!
Macklin was definitely getting his wish!
I didn’t know what was redder, my face or my butt.
I tried fruitlessly to fist the thick material of the couch, to the point
where my too-short fingernails ached. But ohhhh. How could this turn me
on at the same time? Master was manipulating me like a magician!
Standing on all fours over Dean’s lap, I could just accept the confusing
assault, and there was very little time to be embarrassed. People were
watching—Walker, Daddy, Macklin, and Reese were standing right there in
front of the couch, clearly enjoying the show.
I whimpered as Master smacked my butt over and over, and he only
paused to knead my flesh and rub my cock. I shivered and shook, and my
traitorous body bucked against his every touch, including the hand that
spanked me.
Daddy planted a knee on the couch and cupped my face in his hands.
“Our beautiful boy, you’re doing so well. Try to relax and just feel what
Daddy’s doing.”
Just feel what Daddy’s doing.
A heavy blanket of sex cloaked me, and I blinked drowsily.
My Daddies.
“You gotta see this, Riv,” I heard Reese murmur. “That level of red—
fuckin’ gorgeous. Shay, get over here too.”
Across the room, the sounds of moans and gasps let me know Noa and
KC were having fun with Franklin, and I had to shut them out.
Just feel.
Daddy’s rhythmic spanking, Daddy’s lips on mine, Daddy, Daddy,
Daddy.
Someone put on music with a slow and heavy beat, and it helped me
shove the last of my intrusive thoughts out of my brain. I stopped analyzing,
I stopped wondering who was around me, I stopped trying to listen.
I heard, and the murmurs went in one ear and out the other.
“You’ll be a good little boy for my brother, won’t you, baby peach?”
Yes, Daddy.
I moaned. “Yes, Daddy.”
Fingers disappeared into my hair—it had to be Macklin. He tugged my
head back, and then I was looking up to see Santiago and Walker making
out. Oh my God. All while Santiago pulled out Walker’s cock from his
boxer briefs.
Dean’s hand landed with a resounding smack, and the heat was so
overpowering that it short-circuited my brain. Pain became pleasure, and I
just wanted more and more.
“Suck my Owner as if your life depends on it,” Macklin whispered in
my ear. “Don’t rush it. Get him properly wet and let him see your tongue.”
I nodded jerkily and sucked in a breath. “Y-yes, Sir.”
I licked my lips, and Santiago and Walker switched places. Then I had
Walker’s fingers in my hair, and he guided his big, hard cock to my mouth.
I immediately closed my eyes to just feel. To feel the smoothness of his
skin against my tongue, to sense the importance of being a good boy for
Daddy’s brother, to hear the moans and heavy breaths around us… I did my
absolute best. I laved Walker’s cock with my tongue, and I sucked him like
I would suck my Daddies.
Macklin sucked in a sharp breath right before I felt two elbows land on
my back, and it was followed by Santiago groaning.
“Fuck.”
“Oh God.”
“Kiss me, Sir. Please.”
“Harder.”
“That’s a good boy.” Walker stroked my cheek, stealing back my focus.
I breathed through my nose, and he eased in deeper until I gagged a little.
“Wonderful. You’re gonna get me ready for Santiago in no time.”
I flushed with my mouth full, and I peered up at him.
He smiled faintly. “Adorable.”
“Incredibly.” Dean’s lips touched my shoulder. “Few things are as sexy
as a cock-hungry little boy pleasing his Owners.”
“Agreed.” Walker began fucking my mouth slowly, a contrast to the
jerky movements that shook me every time Santiago pushed his cock into
Macklin, whose arms remained on my back.
Add Dean’s relentless spanking—ohhh, okay, maybe not relentless any
longer. Something wet was poured between my butt cheeks, and his fingers
followed. I moaned around Walker’s cock and couldn’t be bothered to be
embarrassed about drooling. The lust was sweeping me off my feet, and it
was the weirdest sensation in my brain. Like, I couldn’t just feel; my brain
had to process everything, but I did feel more…when I could acknowledge
what was going on around me.
I whimpered and choked.
I bucked and squirmed.
More.

Fucking heaven.
I blinked, feeling drunk, and I was swimming in desire.
My back hit the mattress, and I blindly reached out at the same time as
Noa did, and we grabbed each other’s hands. He was moaning for KC to
fuck him harder, but soon his mouth was full of Macklin’s cock. I had no
time to recover before Dean flipped me over and yanked me back to his
cock. I cried out and fisted the mattress.
“I think the brats wanna get a taste of each other,” Santiago said huskily.
“Yeah, so stop keeping us apart,” Noa groaned. He panted and promptly
made a choking sound.
I giggled breathlessly, only to gasp when Dean’s cock hit so sharply that
my eyes welled up.
Heat surrounded me; bodies surrounded me. We’d finally come
together, all of us, and wherever I reached out, I felt someone. But I held on
to Noa’s hand, and he held on to mine.
“Get the slut over here,” Dean grunted. “Franklin, suck my boy’s cock.”
“Gladly, Sir.”
Dean pulled me back, and I sank down on his cock. I had zero fucking
control of my movements. I was equal parts spent and needy, craving more,
not sure I could take it, demanding everything.
Gosh. I’d exchanged so few words with Franklin, and now he was
bending down to suck my cock. I shuddered violently—and he wasn’t left
alone for long. Walker came up behind him and rolled on a new condom.
Meanwhile, Santiago positioned himself next to me, fisted my hair, and
pushed his cock between my lips.
Pleasure exploded. Pain burned. This was fucking ecstasy.
Franklin sucked me greedily, swirling his tongue around me, and I felt
myself mirror his moves on my Daddy. I sucked Daddy like Franklin
sucked me, and—owww—Dean fucked me harder. Pushing me up and
down his cock, causing me to choke and gag on Santiago’s cock.
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and drool trickled down my chin.
“Look at me, little one,” Daddy commanded in a low voice.
I opened my eyes and saw the heat in his gaze.
“I’ll never get enough of you. You hear me?”
I nodded. These metaphorical claw marks where he and Dean reminded
me of who owned me meant the world to me. Physical pleasure hit my
body, but they hit my friggin’ soul. Their presence reached deeper.
“Let’s throw you into the pile, freckles,” I heard KC say with a grunt.
Santiago pulled out for me, and before I could react, KC yanked
Franklin away, and Macklin literally dropped a laughing Noa right in front
of me. I croaked a laugh, I whimpered in pain as Dean pushed me down
harder, I gasped, I fucking cried. And Noa went, “Shhh, we gotta stick
together through this, Gael—it’s you and me against the Tippy-Tops! I got
you.”
It became too much, and maybe Dean sensed it. He withdrew from me
and kissed my neck.
“Let’s give the boys a breather, gentlemen.”
I sniffled and tried to catch my breath.
“I’ll take care of them for a while,” Macklin said. “Come to me, boys. I
think you’ve earned a show.”
We nodded and scrambled over to him. He parted his legs so we could
both get comfortable there, and a surge of happiness spiked within me. I
smooched him hard, earning me a smile.
Noa was more interested in swallowing Macklin’s cock, but I needed a
cuddle.
Macklin kissed me softly, and the pace he set created a calm in my brain
that was so welcome. It felt super good. So did his fingers brushing up and
down my back.
I shivered and let out a breath.
“Watch your Daddies, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Okay.
I rested my head on his chest and glanced toward—holy fuck. Oh gosh,
oh gosh. KC crawling over Santiago, kissing him heatedly on the floor, and
Dean and Walker making out hungrily. I could not look away for a second,
not even when Franklin made his way over to us and asked me—
“No, you ask me instead, Franklin,” Macklin told him. “You don’t have
the right to ambush Gael. You wanna do something with him, you go
through me.”
Oof, I assumed that was part of their dynamic. Although, I felt really
good about being in Macklin’s care at the moment.
Franklin actually blushed, but there was no mistaking the dark hunger in
his eyes. He was anything but embarrassed.
“You’re right, Sir,” he replied demurely. “May I service Gael with my
mouth?”
Macklin stroked my back, and I glanced up at him.
“It’s up to you, honey. I don’t want you to be overwhelmed.”
I bit my lip. I mean… “I’m not gonna turn down a blow job,” I
whispered back.
 He chuckled and kissed my nose. “Fair enough.” He shifted his gaze to
Franklin. “You may service him. And not that I think you’re actually
capable, but don’t steal focus from the show.”
“I won’t, Sir,” Franklin promised.
“Don’t make him come,” Jack warned from his couch. “He’s saving that
for his Owners, and you don’t deserve any loads yet anyway.”
Franklin bowed his head slightly. “I understand, son.”
I bit at my thumbnail, fascinated by their relationship. Franklin had been
hard essentially since he’d been Jack’s footrest, and it was fairly obvious by
now that he got off on degradation.
He looked like a dog trying to be sneaky about stealing snacks when he
crawled closer and carefully sucked my cock into his mouth. He didn’t
make eye contact or anything; in fact, he closed his eyes. And I knew that
look. That feeling. The love of sucking cock.
I exhaled unsteadily, my semi-hard dick becoming very hard in a matter
of seconds. Long enough for me to miss what the Tops were doing for a
moment. But I didn’t call Franklin out for being distracting! I would never
do such a thing. The others could humiliate him fine on their own.
Goodness, that felt…hnngh.
“That’s enough, boy.” Macklin halted Noa’s movements, both out of
breath, while I shifted my attention back to the Tops.
Oh God, finally.
Luckily for Noa, who wanted more cock, his Daddy was on his way
over to us, but my focus was on Santiago, Dean, and Walker. Macklin and I
—this was our fantasy coming true. They were kissing so sensually, so
greedily, and grabbing at one another like there was no tomorrow. Santiago
was trapped between Dean and Walker, and their bodies together… I had no
words.
I caught Master’s whisper to Santiago.
“Get on your knees for us, darling.”
I sucked in a breath as Franklin redoubled his efforts, and Macklin felt
my tensing up. Either he was incredibly intuitive, or he was just guessing,
but he reached forward and smacked the side of Franklin’s head.
“What did we fucking tell you, you greedy old whore. Take it easy with
the boy.”
“That’s your last strike, Franklin,” Jack stated. “You just lost your
privilege to get off today.”
 Oh no!
“That’s harsh,” Noa mumbled.
But maybe… Hmm. Franklin didn’t look ashamed or anything, though
it sure appeared like he was trying to be remorseful.
“I’m very sorry, Sir. Can I make up for—”
“No, and shut the fuck up,” Jack replied. “Actually, you can come over
here. I think your Handler needs a foot rub.”
Kingsley smiled faintly and wriggled his toes.
I shook my head, amused and half bewildered, and I was just about to
look back at my Daddies…when I saw River and Reese getting in position
to spit-roast Shay on the couch. Fuck, that was hot. But my Daddies and
Walker were more irresistible. I refused to have another thing distracting
me!
“Pet…” Not now, Macklin!
I couldn’t say that out loud, though.
“Yes, Sir?” I felt him doing something, and I inched away. Oh, he was
rolling a new condom onto his cock.
“I want you to just sit on my cock.”
Okay, that worked for me. I’d gotten my rest, and I wasn’t going to say
no to extra pleasure for this.
KC and Noa had the same idea, and Noa and I exchanged a grin as we
positioned ourselves over our Tops. Not that Macklin was small by any
means, but after Dean’s brutal fuck earlier, this was Hello, Blissville.
I shuddered and sank down on him, and he kissed my shoulder and
called me a good boy.
“They’re beautiful together, aren’t they?” Macklin murmured. “We
should have dinner, just the five of us. Fewer distractions.”
I nodded and merely stared. Walker on his knees behind Daddy, fucking
him hard, Dean standing up, fucking Daddy’s throat. They exuded raw
masculinity in a moment where the balance between dominance and
submission nearly tipped over for Daddy. He claimed enjoying bottoming
didn’t make you submissive, and of course it didn’t, but it sure looked like
he was submitting to Dean and Walker right now. At least to Dean.
Definitely to Dean. I caught a single glimpse of Santiago’s eyes, and the
adoration was as clear as his need to just get fucking railed.
Seeing my Daddies together made me wanna belong to them forever
and ever, and even when I sat here six feet away, I missed them. I wanted to
go to them. I wanted to be surrounded by them, and every second I wasn’t
there, I experienced my mood change. Rather, my mind-set. I wouldn’t call
it regression—or would I? No. I…I didn’t know. I couldn’t explain it! I just
had this pressing need to be close to my Daddies right now.
“Macklin?” I mumbled.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can we go over there?” I whispered.
“Of course we can. You need your Daddies?”
I nodded, more than a little embarrassed by the sudden change in my
behavior. I didn’t know where it was coming from or why. Thankfully,
Macklin could roll with the punches, and he was really sweet to me. He
helped me off him and held me close as we walked the short distance to the
others.
For a quick moment, it felt weird to hear Noa moaning and possibly
orgasming, KC panting, and gritty groans coming from the twins. Oh, and
Santiago also. He was delirious with horniness!
Dean, however, acted fast. “I see we need to switch places, pet. Come
here.” He gestured for Macklin to take his spot.
“I think he needs some—”
“I got it. Thank you, dear.” Dean’s swift interjection made it clear that
he didn’t wanna disturb Santiago’s experience, and I was totally on board.
Dean dipped down and kissed Santiago quick and hard. “I’m gonna get
greedy with our boy for a bit.”
Santiago sucked in a breath, and Walker slowed down briefly.
“Is he okay?” Santiago gritted out.
“I’m great, Daddy! I’m right here.” I slipped my hand into Dean’s and
patted Santiago on the head.
Which…oops? I might have ruined the mood a bit there. Santiago and
Walker laughed, out of breath, but…they recovered quickly. By the time
Dean and I landed on the nearest couch, they’d formed a heap on the
mattress with Macklin.
I latched on to Dean like a Band-Aid, and I crawled up on his lap,
trapping his hard cock close to mine where I wanted it.
“Did something happen, peach?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head and squirmed against him. “I just missed you, Daddy.”
He exhaled and kissed my cheek. “As a matter of fact, I missed you too.
I think we’ll stay this close for the rest of the night.”
 Best idea ever!
I nodded and started peppering the side of his face with kisses, from his
cut jaw and the silver beard and up to the deepening crow’s-feet at his eyes.
“Can we do stuff, Daddy? I’m needy-wanty now that I have you here.”
It was his fault. His big, perfect, hard cock was right there.
“We can definitely do stuff,” he murmured huskily. “Maybe it’s best
Daddy fills your little bottom.”
Yessss!

“Daddy, I’m close again,” Noa moaned.

Not yet, not yet, not yet. I was fighting my climax for all I was worth.
“Gorgeous little boy.” Santiago kissed me and rubbed my chest, and all
I could do was whimper. Dean had nearly folded me in half, and he was
fucking me so hard. Up the mattress, into the mattress. Every thrust pushed
me an inch higher. And if that continued, I’d knock my head against
Macklin’s leg soon. Walker showed no mercy when he pounded into his
boy.
Jack had shown mercy, though. Franklin was still not allowed to come,
but he’d been okayed to service anyone who wanted to be sucked. Right
now, that was Santiago.
I tried to peer down to watch, ’cause it was crazy hot. Franklin was such
a cock-whore—like me! Like I could be for my Daddies. But eventually,
my attention was stolen again. I went under, my mind swimming, and I
couldn’t keep up with everyone changing positions and moving around.
Dean cursed and sped up further, and I sensed he was getting close. I
clamped down around him as hard as I could, putting all focus on him.
“Please fill me, Daddy,” I whimpered. “I wanna feel it.”
It was the only thing missing, because I surely felt everything else.
Scratches, fingers digging into my flesh, rug burn, only…mattress burn.
Beard burn. My butt was so thoroughly spanked that the pain was pulsating
through me, as if every budding bruise had its own heartbeat.
Dean cursed and pushed my legs together, my knees almost touching
my stomach, and he looked down to watch his cock pump in and out of me.
 “Christ, I’ll never get enough of this.” Santiago scooted lower, with
Franklin mirroring his moves, and then Daddy’s fingers were brushing over
my skin, around the area where Master was taking me. He stroked my
buttocks, cupped my balls— “Look at this perfect little sac,” he murmured.
“All smooth and full.”
I gasped as Dean hit a deeper angle, and he let out the kind of groan that
told me he was so, so close. His hard thrusts combined with Santiago’s
featherlight touch over my sensitive skin sent me into a tailspin of madness
and conflicting emotions. More, stop, give me everything, I need it now, I
can’t handle it. Then Master was coming, each push providing less
resistance with his hot come coating me.
I heard a whining, pleading sound before I realized it came from me, but
I couldn’t help it. I was so hard, and I’d never needed to come so badly. It’d
been too long! They’d edged me all freaking night, and I couldn’t take it
anymore.
Tears welled up when Dean pulled out slowly, and I was ready to beg.
Nothing could distract me—not even when I suddenly had Noa in my face.
He dipped down and kissed me, and I acted on instinct. I kissed him back
hungrily, conveying everything I needed to the wrong person. But brats
could count on one another.
“He’s super needy, Sirs—aren’t you gonna let him come?” Noa pecked
me over and over, until we eased into a deep, tongue-teasing kiss. “Fuck,
don’t make me horny again.”
Macklin got lucky. I heard him start moaning out his orgasm a foot or
two above my head.
Then at long last, it was my turn. I lost all control of my movements the
second Santiago sucked my cock into his mouth. My legs went down with a
muted thump against the mattress, my lungs burned, my chest heaved, and I
felt so many hands on me that I couldn’t identify. And mouths. Noa left a
trail of kisses down my neck, Master kissed his way up my tummy, and
someone else kissed and rubbed my thighs.
It was like setting off an explosive that’d already burned its fuse. I
imploded with euphoria and too many sensations for me to process. Other
than arching my back and going rigid, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t
warn, I couldn’t moan, I couldn’t breathe. My orgasm bolted through me,
zinging and zapping between each pleasure point, releasing all the pent-up
frustrations—and effectively draining me of energy.
 Sounds came from far away, almost with a rushing effect, like
underwater, and I stopped registering hands on me.
Don’t ask me to move. Ever. I’ll just stay here now.
Eventually, I drew a raspy breath, and when someone pulled me to their
body, I managed to curl up against it—he smelled like Santiago. I knew his
cologne. I felt his heart beat under my hand. His lips pressed against my
hair. We were damp with sweat, all of us, and the room smelled of so much
sex.
Hunngh.
I swallowed dryly and sniffled.
Oh my gosh, I was so dead.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 14

Santiago Jones

P art of me regretted making a reservation for the night, because I itched to

go home with Dean and Gael. I wanted us to close ourselves in and
spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching movies and reenergizing
with snacks and zero personal space.
But this worked too. It truly did. Aftercare chatting was never wrong.
Kingsley, Jack, Franklin, Walker, and Macklin headed home shortly after
because they had work early in the morning, but KC and Noa stayed. River,
Reese, and Shay stayed. We ordered takeout that arrived by the time we
were out of the showers and in comfortable clothes, and we gathered three
couches around a table in the club area downstairs.
It did Gael and Noa good to spend time together after the play. Noa was
as little as he got after an intense scene, and I believed my boy was
experiencing some of that now too.
The boys got two Happy Meals each; Shay and I pretended to be
healthy with McDonald’s salad options, and the others unwrapped burgers
of various sizes.
“Daddy, can we switch places?” Gael asked.
“Yeah, sure.” I stood up and sat down in the middle instead. He grinned
and immediately fell into a conversation with Noa.
I skipped the dressing, which earned me a wry smile from Dean, and he
was misinterpreting my intention. I just wasn’t a fan of this food. I’d eaten
too much of it over the years—that was the problem. It did something to my
moods, to my state of mind, and to my joints.
 If they wanted to see me pig out, just wait. Nachos and queso, rare
steaks that would alarm any doctor, my mother’s chocolate chips cookies
and chuchuflís with dulce de leche filling—and don’t fucking get me started
on the waffles at Gael’s work…? Damn. But I was done with the millions of
additives. My body couldn’t handle them anymore. I hadn’t realized what a
big part they’d played in my semi-depressed state before I’d started cooking
for Gael and Dean—before returning to the man I’d been many times in
bursts of “I gotta get my shit together.”
The one I had to keep an eye on now was Dean. I was falling in love
with the bastard, and I wasn’t going to lose him to a heart attack.
Gael was easier. So was falling for him. He was constantly on his feet,
happy to help out, and he knew more than I did about cutting out stress. He
liked his world small. He wanted friends, our community, and preferably
his own library.
I chewed around a mouthful of chicken and lettuce, and I checked my
watch. Gael and Noa were giggling about theories on the upcoming Game,
and Dean and KC were quizzing the Tenleys about the progress on their
house.
It was funny how life worked. Had this been an orgy a few months ago,
I would’ve suggested we go out for a couple beers or go straight for round
two.
“I’ve driven up this road hundreds of times, and I’ve never seen a left
turn anywhere,” KC chuckled.
Shay let out a laugh. “First time they showed me the build site, they
were like, meet us there—take a left before the gates. And I was like, gates?
There are gates here?”
I grinned. Even I knew about the gates. They were just fairly well
hidden behind high grass and weeds at this point. I didn’t think they’d ever
been closed. But they were right at the beginning of the private road.
“When do you think the house will be ready?” Dean wondered.
River and Reese eyed each other pensively.
“We’re shootin’ for April or May,” Reese replied. “I said I wasn’t
movin’ in till the AC was runnin’ and the pool was ready.”
I wondered how many months it would take me to convince Dean and
Gael to move in with me. Because I had a feeling I’d be ready within six
months—but then to win over a stubborn professor…?
I had my work cut out for me.
On the other hand, I had the most potent weapon.
Gael.
When he gave Dean a pout and said he “sort of, kind of” wanted to go
home with Daddy, Dean didn’t even hesitate. He went up to our guest room
and grabbed our bags.
After I’d Venmo’d Reese for the cleaning fee, we made plans to meet up
soon. Aside from the event, of course. KC wanted us to come over for
dinner sometime as well, and I was looking forward to that. Gael shared a
bit with both Noa and Cam, and he clearly got along well with them. After
tonight, it was safe to say I got along well with KC too. If we ended up in
another group-play event, I wouldn’t mind spending time between him and
Dean. KC and I had interrogation kink in common, to boot. Imagining what
we could come up with together…should make the boys tremble a little.
When all was said and done, I got behind the wheel to the sound of
Dean’s grunt and Gael’s yawn, and I couldn’t fucking wait to get us home.
Thank fuck it wasn’t a long drive.
Dean yawned too, and he gave my leg a squeeze. “Are you all right,
darling? You’ve been quiet.”
I smiled tiredly and backed out of the carport. “Just itching to get us
home.” I glanced at Gael in the rearview. “I’m in desperate need of
cuddles.”
Our boy beamed, almost as tired as I was. “Me also, Daddy! Can we
have cocoa and watch Band of Brothers?”
“Yes,” Dean answered, without missing a beat. “Abso-damn-lutely.
We’re on episode six now, aren’t we?”
“Yes, Sir!”
I smirked to myself, already feeling better.

Friday went by too quickly. Dean worked from home, and Gael had the day
off, but between finishing the painting, eating lunch and dinner together,
going through our limits for the event tomorrow, and performing world-
class aftercare on Gael’s sweet but bruised little ass, including cooling balm
and kisses, it got dark while I was mentally on my lunch break. I wasn’t
ready yet.
Both Dean and Gael passed out in front of a movie, so I spent a couple
hours assembling furniture and finalizing some last-minute changes for the
Game. The group chat was running hot; Greer had a suggestion for the
geometry class, Colt added a bondage web for PE, and Ty wanted to make
sure we’d all talked to our subs about what the biology class would entail.
I’d skipped that conversation with Gael because I’d picked up enough
hints to know it wouldn’t be an issue with him. My boy wasn’t particularly
into fear play, but he didn’t want all the details.
Before long, I got my men to go upstairs and into bed, and it never
failed to make me grin when Gael went “Ouch!” as he landed at a weird
angle and hurt his butt.
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in bed, as had become
usual, but I’d found a silver lining in it. I got to stretch out and snooze a few
minutes to the sounds of Dean and Gael chatting downstairs.
I smiled into Gael’s pillow.
“…before we get ice cream!” Gael was saying. “That would be a nice
outing, don’t you think, Daddy?”
“It sounds wonderful,” Dean replied. “Have you been there before?”
I yawned and rolled onto my back, and I scrubbed my hands over my
face. I’d missed the mention of what museum they were discussing, but I
was sure Gael had visited.
Eventually, I dragged my ass out of bed and took a quick shower before
I got dressed and headed downstairs.
“Finally!” Gael lit up when he saw me. “Good morning, Daddy. I’ll
grab coffee for you.”
If someone up there is listening, please give me this for the rest of my
life.

He was last seen on CCTV at the Chevron close to where he lives, where
he used his credit card to buy an energy drink. Exact time, 11:42 AM.
I checked my watch and climbed out of the truck. So with the time
difference, Caleb was last seen in El Cerrito, just north of Berkeley, roughly
an hour ago. Okay, I could relax for the time being—but something might
be up. The lunch photo he’d posted right before we’d left the house had
been taken two days ago, at the same location he’d had lunch then. Not of
the same meal. He’d had a tuna salad two days ago, and the picture today
showed a sandwich.
“Daddy, we gotta hurry!” Gael exclaimed. “Gretchen and Franklin are
handing out clothes on the porch now!”
“You can run ahead,” I replied and pocketed my phone. “Grab a pair of
shorts and a tie.”
“Okay!” The boy shouldered his backpack and hurried across the big
lawn toward the house.
I went to grab my bag in the back seat, only to see Dean had taken it
already.
“Everything okay?” He eyed me in a way that let me know he’d noticed
my being distracted on the way over.
I sighed and figured I might as well tell him everything, and I sort of
hoped he would call me paranoid. I mean, it wasn’t unheard of that people
posted older photos like they were new. In today’s social media frenzy,
humankind applied old-time preparedness as if we were facing an
apocalypse. We always made sure we had pictures to post.
Dean and I walked at a slower pace as I explained what I’d found, and
we were passed by an excited Kit when we were halfway to the house.
“Hello, Master Dean! Hello, Mister Santiago!”
He was already gone, so there was no time to reply. I glanced over my
shoulder and spotted Colt and Lucas at the carport. Then I refocused on
Dean.
“Tell me I’m nuts,” I half joked.
At the same time, I did this for a living. I knew what I was doing. Caleb
was stepping off his pattern, which had seemed forced to begin with, and I
couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was planning something.
Dean sidestepped a mud puddle in the middle of the lawn and furrowed
his brow. “As fun as that would be, I can’t. His sudden return to the West
Coast didn’t sit right with me. It seemed as if he was trying to establish an
alibi and a sense of…nothing’s wrong here.”
Exactly.
“If anything, I’d like to help you,” he added. “He clearly needs to be
watched.”
 “There ain’t much you can do, love. We have surveillance where it’s
allowed, and we’ve installed more security at Gael’s place,” I said. “But
obviously, it’s best you and Gael stay with me until we know what Caleb’s
up to.”
He grinned faintly and grabbed my hand. “Of course.”

Mclean House was the place for me. This was the community I wanted to
invest my time, money, and energy in. They went above and beyond to
make fantasies reality, and that was what I had missed.
Some of the texts in the group chat made more sense now. The
downstairs club area had been emptied of sofas and tables, replaced by
neatly organized wooden chairs that Greer had rented. The bar had been
partially covered—well, the bottles were hidden behind a screen, and the
bartop was now home to a coffee machine and a cookie jar. This was the
faculty lounge, as it said on a sign. The platform where demos were usually
hosted now had a podium and a line of chairs too. With a big backdrop on
the wall with Mclean House Academy’s crest.
While the brats were treated to an orientation speech by Lucas on the
porch, where nothing but outdoor heaters kept the members somewhat
warm as they changed into their uniforms, the Tops got ready inside.
Those who wanted to enjoy the event as a spectator had an area reserved
in the back of the club. That included some Tops who couldn’t participate
but had their subs involved.
Greer, Colt, and I were PE coaches for the event, and we headed into
Reese’s office to change into our own uniforms. Black tees with the
Academy crest, black shorts, black socks, black sneakers, black headbands,
and, of-fucking-course, whistles and stopwatches that hung around our
necks.
“Kit don’t know it yet, but I’m more excited than he is,” Colt said.
I chuckled. That was probably true for most Tops. We’d have a
goddamn blast.
“Is Gael a maso?” Greer asked.
I tipped my hand, weighing my response. “I don’t think he necessarily
gets off on pain beyond the sensual kind, but he loves wearing bruises.”
 I’d caught him this morning trying to take a picture of his cute butt in
the mirror.
Greer smirked. “That’s maso in my book.”
“Just a whole other chapter from Corey,” Colt laughed.
“Oh yeah, don’t go easy on him today,” Greer chuckled. “I’ve been a
sweetheart to him all week. You can say he’s frustrated.”
Colt lifted his brows. “Similar with Kit. Seriously, don’t hold back too
much with him. He’s been tryin’ to rile me up since Valentine’s, when I let
him know we’d provoke brats today.”
“Because we don’t do that otherwise?” Greer drawled.
I snorted in amusement.
“Gael’s a brat too, it’n he?” Colt asked.
“I wanna say yes, but we haven’t seen the extent yet,” I replied. “He’s
testing the waters of submission first—to ground him a bit. He and Dean
are slowly but surely establishing a servitude structure.”
I knew he had a brat in him, though. The goofball was alive and well,
and I was ready for whatever degree he felt most natural.
“Huh.” Colt scratched his jaw. “I was a little surprised at first when Kit
told me about the cooking class. I guess I thought Gael would be more
Little like my boy—less focus on D/s.”
No, I’d had Gael pegged for a submissive right away.
“Are you sayin’ Kit’s not a sub?” Greer chuckled, confused.
“No, ’course he is—but that side of him appeared slowly over time,”
Colt replied. “I mean the servitude shit. It was a couple things in the
beginning, but it’s not until now—or the last couple of months—that he’s
been asking for more chores and whatnot.” He nodded at Greer. “Your boys
have definitely been an influence.”
I nodded, understanding that bit. Submission, as dominance, was fluid,
and I was sure Gael would be affected by both Noa and Cam once they
spent more time together.
A knock on the door ended our conversation, and I opened up to see a
fine-as-fuck Reese in a three-piece suit standing there.
He sucked his teeth. “I shoulda been a coach.”
I laughed.
Greer put his hands on his hips and performed a couple lunges. “Can
you do this, monkey suit?”
 Colt cracked up at that too, whereas Reese gave us a bitch stare before
storming off.
“Club area in thirty seconds!” he bellowed.
“I think you mean Great Hall!” Colt hollered back. He tugged at his
shorts and tightened the drawstrings. “Maybe free-ballin’ it was a bad call.”
Greer and I had warned him.
We left the office together and headed for the club area, where every
Top but us three was dressed to kill. Or teach at a preppy academy. Dean
was delicious as always, though he looked mildly offended about everyone
stereotyping his profession. Which was funny because he was the walking
stereotype. He wore sweater vests sometimes, corduroy, and he even had a
pocket watch.
Tonight, he’d dug out a brown suit, with a vest, and he was sexy as sin.
Even I wanted to give him an apple and get an A+.
“Okay, everyone into position!” Penelope called out. She was rocking a
snug pencil skirt, blazer, and high heels that I was sure Nora would
appreciate.
All professors and coaches trailed over to the platform, where the
suited-up professors sat down on chairs and we coaches positioned
ourselves behind them.
I dipped down and kissed Dean’s cheek. “Gorgeous.”
He glanced back at me and gave me a once-over. “Tuck in your shirt,
dear.”
I stifled a laugh and did as told. “Yes, Professor.”
His mouth twitched.
Our helpers were dressed nicely too. Franklin, Archie, Ivy, Gretchen,
and someone named Anthony—I hadn’t met him before—had volunteered
to help us run the event smoothly.
And in the far back, we had our audience. I noticed August and Ev were
here, presumably to keep an eye on their pregnant Ivy.
“Gretchen, you may open the doors,” Penelope said.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Gretchen complied as Walker joined Penelope by the
podium.
Within seconds, uniformed brats barged in from the patio—and Lucas,
who unbuttoned his suit and took a seat on the platform. A buzz of
excitement tore through the room, and it was difficult not to grin.
“Take a seat, students!” Penelope ordered.
 “Oh wow, look at Master Kingsley.”
“A show of hands, who wants to be flogged by Master McKenna?”
“I just wanna point out it’s a fashion crime to wear dress shorts unless
you’re a schoolboy in England or you play guitar for AC/DC.”
“Holy crap, look at the Tenleys.”
“Yeah, but look at my Daddy in that headband!”
At the sound of Kit’s giggle, I had to fake a cough to hide my
amusement.
“What the fuck?” Colt muttered under his breath. “We’re fuckin’
fabulous.”
Of course we were, buddy. Of course we were.
Precisely nineteen subs filled the wooden chairs in front of the platform,
and I saw Gael somewhere in the middle between Cam and Kit.
It warmed my heart to see him surrounded by friends. He was so visibly
excited too.
Walker clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat, causing
a few subs to shush the others, and the rush of conversation died down.
“Welcome to Mclean House Academy,” he stated, all business. “Before
we begin, Professor West has the results from the last Game to share with
us. Pay attention.”
Oh, right. That was the photo event. They’d called it Picture-Perfect.
Competing dynamics had been tasked to submit three photos to represent a
kink or two, and it’d culminated in an exhibit with a vote last month.
Lucas walked over to the podium, prepared with a few flashcards.
“Hello, everyone. As promised at the last Game, we are going to announce
the top three from the Picture-Perfect event in January, so I have with me
the results of your votes. These three photos can be found in the hallway on
the second floor, but after tonight, they will move down here and grace the
wall in the lounge area.” He paused to flip to the next card. “At the exhibit,
you each had ten points to distribute however you liked—with the
exception that you couldn’t vote for your own photos—and this is how you
voted.” The next pause was for dramatic effect, and it seemed to work. The
subs were antsy to hear the results. “In third place, we have Master Jack and
his Franklin with image six, titled At the End of the Day. Well done.”
“Go Gramps!” Noa cheered.
I smiled and applauded with the others, and it was endearing as fuck to
see Franklin sufficiently taken aback. He was a sweet man—when he
wasn’t crawling on his hands and knees for cock.
“In second place,” Lucas continued, “just six points behind first place,
we have Master August, Ev, and Ivy with image thirty-two, Surrendering.
Congratulations.”
We applauded again, and I made a mental note to have a look at the
images later.
“Last of all, and yet at the very top!” Lucas spoke over the cheers. “KC
and Noa take gold with image forty, The Doll Doesn’t Speak. A big round
of applause!”
“Daddy, we won!” Noa shot up from his chair and fist-pumped the air.
“Almost worth seven hours in makeup! Woo-hoo!”
I laughed and glanced over at KC, who grinned and shook his head.
“Fantastic job, everyone,” Lucas said with a smile in his voice. “We
have a few honorary mentions too, mostly because they competed for fourth
place with almost the same number of points in the end. So a job very well
done to the Tenley triad and Master McKenna and his Macklin—and call
me biased, but I’ll mention my own contribution with Colt and Kit as well.
We finished in seventh place right after Ty and Lane’s wonderful Island
Prey.”
Having not seen the photos myself, I could only soak up the contagious
buzz in the room and vow to myself that this was only the first of many,
many events for Dean, Gael, and me.
Hell, I’d already signed us up for the one in March, which was in just a
little over two weeks. The events were usually held near the end of each
month, but since so many members were going on that cruise then, they’d
moved the Game.
Easter was coming early this year, and we’d enjoy a very fun Easter Egg
Hunt.
With a twist.
Once the Picture-Perfect excitement settled, Walker returned to the
podium, his mere presence causing everyone to pipe down.
“We have one more announcement to make,” he stated. “Since last
month, we’ve had two new additions to our community. Santiago has
finally joined us properly—”
“About damn time,” Colt said and clapped me on the back.
I chuckled.
 “Tonight, he’s Coach Santiago,” Walker told the crowd. “Moreover,
Nora is new with us as well. Welcome to Mclean House, Nora.”
“Yeah, welcome to House Mclean, Nor!” Corey hollered.
Reese shook his head.
“Thank you, Cor!” Nora responded cheekily, and Corey just grinned
like a goof. I knew they’d originally come from the same community, Old
Town.
I observed Penelope for a beat, though her expression didn’t reveal
anything.
She was up next. “Settle down, students. Classes are about to begin, and
you don’t want to miss any information.” She gave the subs a couple
seconds to shut up. “Behind me, you see your Coaches and Professors for
the evening, and Professor West has already assigned you to your study
group.” There’d be four of those, with five subs in all but one. Group three,
which was Gael’s group, had four students. “I am Headmistress Darling,
and, together with Headmaster McKenna here, we will simply observe the
classes, make sure you don’t misbehave—and deal with those who do.”
“Uh-oh,” I heard someone say.
“Outside each classroom on the second floor, you will find your
schedules, but we’ll tell you where you’re going right after this,” Pen
continued. “Group one, you’re off to Room 9 for geometry with Professors
River and Reese Tenley and Professor Jack Dune. Group two, you will start
in Room 5 for biology with Professor Ty Madison, Professor KC Hayles,
and Professor Sloan Wallace. Group three, you can sit tight right here
because PE takes place in the Great Hall with Coach Colt Carter, Coach
Santiago Jones, and Coach Greer Finlay.”
Gael beamed at me, only a tad nervous, and I winked at him.
“Lastly, group four,” Penelope went on. “You’re going upstairs to Room
10 for your English class with Professor Lucas West and Professor Lucian
Leroux.” She turned back to us in the faculty. “Professor Dean Aavik and
Professor Kingsley Madden are on break the first thirty minutes.” Then she
shifted her gaze to the students once more. “You will see them in your
history class in Room 8 later. Now, here’s Headmaster McKenna with some
rules. We love those here at Mclean House Academy.”
Walker joined her side. “We absolutely do. Number one, we do not spoil
a class for the next study group. Do not share any details about the classes
you’ve already had. No exceptions. If we find out any of you broke this
rule, you’ll face some of our harshest punishments, all approved by your
Owners.” When he spoke, fucking everyone sat up straighter. It was a sight
to behold. He possessed the same level of authority in his voice as Dean and
Lucian. “No cheating on your exams,” he continued. “If our Professors
catch you cheating, you will not only be disqualified from the event, you
will take a public over-the-knee spanking in the Great Hall at the end of the
night.”
No brat dared say “Tempting,” though I was sure some of them thought
about it.
“We have one rule for the audience as well,” he said. “All classrooms
will be open for viewing—you’ll see a line on the floor, which you can
stand behind. Just don’t arrive in the middle of the class. Our students are
easily distracted by shiny objects, and we need their full attention.”
Colt coughed to hide his laugh as Tate slapped a hand over Noa’s
mouth.
“You will be graded on performance, politeness, and ability to complete
tasks,” Penelope declared. “We can give you points, and we can deduct
points.”
“Crap,” Corey whispered, not too quietly.
“We’ll keep the scores to ourselves until we announce them online
tomorrow,” Walker added. “Make us proud, students.”
Penelope had one more thing to say. “In between classes, you have a
five-minute break. Use it wisely and don’t be late for your next class.
There’re refreshments and snacks in the kitchen, aloe and tissues for your
issues in the bathroom, and a teacher’s assistant outside every classroom to
handle any questions you might have.”
“First class begins in sixty seconds,” Walker finished.
“Oh my gosh.” Gael shot right up, only to freeze. “No, wait. I’m
supposed to be right here.”
I felt my shoulders shake with silent laughter, and Dean chuckled into
his fist.
“Group one, upstairs!” Macklin called.
Colt, Greer, and I had a quick job to do before the class began, so as the
subs rushed toward the foyer and the stairs, we left the platform and began
stacking the chairs together then placing them by the nearest wall.
“No running on the stairs!” Reese barked out in the foyer.
 “Oh my God, you’re so strict!” I heard Noa yell back. “Don’t you want
us to be on time?”
“Are you giving me attitude?” Reese replied warningly.
Colt laughed to himself.
Approximately ten of the audience, of which I estimated there were
about thirty, headed off to watch other classes. Dean and Kingsley lingered
in the doorway since they were on “break,” and both had their boys in the
third group.
“Y’all can form a nice line at the center of the floor,” Colt commanded.
While Greer tore down the backdrop, revealing the impressive bondage
web attached to the wall, I went for the three big boxes next to the stage.
The bondage web was larger than I’d anticipated, and someone in the
bondage community must’ve put it together. It resembled a spider web and
went from floor to ceiling, so roughly eleven feet high and just as wide.
It’d be fun watching the brats climb it.
“Is that candy attached to the web?” Corey asked.
Greer and I glanced back at the rope web.
“Sure looks like it, don’t it?” Greer replied, folding his arms over his
chest. “All right—welcome to PE, group three. Coach Santiago will do a
roll call, and you respond present. Understood? Good.”
I inclined my head and picked up a clipboard from one of the boxes—
along with a pen. We’d attached a blank piece of paper to it for “note
keeping.”
“Corey,” I said.
“Yeah?”
I lifted my brows.
“Oh shit. I mean, present!”
I felt my mouth twitch. They were too fucking adorable, the brats.
“Gael?”
“Present!”
“Tate.”
“Present, Sir.”
“Nobody likes a brownnoser, dude,” Corey told him.
“Write up Corey for insolence,” Greer said.
I nodded and jotted down Corey’s name and insolence, minus one point.
“Fuck,” Corey whispered.
“Last but not least, Cam,” I said.
 “Present, Sir,” he answered.
“I’m just gonna shut up.” Corey pretended to zip his mouth closed and
throw away the key.
Probably for the best.
“So what can we say about PE?” Colt asked a rhetorical question as he
began a slow stroll around our four students. “Physical health is important.
So is taking care of our equipment…” He dipped down between Corey and
Gael, from behind, and spoke close to Corey’s ear. “Any witty remark on
that?”
Oh, Corey was struggling. “No, Sir. I agree, it’s important to take care
of our equipment. Keep it clean and stuff.”
“And sorted,” Colt added. “We’re going to start with that. In front of
you, you see three boxes of gear.” As he spoke, I removed the remaining
lids, revealing a jumbled mix of countless floggers, handcuffs, and plugs.
“You have sixty seconds to sort the toys—floggers in one box, cuffs in
another, and butt plugs in the last. And you’ll do this blindfolded. You now
have ten seconds to collaborate.”
Greer got his stopwatch ready while Colt walked behind the bar to grab
the blindfolds.
“I’ll put floggers in the right box,” Tate whispered hurriedly. “Gael and
Cam, gather the plugs in the center box—Corey, you do cuffs in the left.”
All boys tried to peer inside the boxes to get a closer look, and they nodded
at Tate’s suggestion.
I made a couple notes. Group three, teamwork, initiative by Tate.
Colt returned with the blindfolds and put them on one by one. Gael was
studying the contents until his vision was blocked by the fabric.
Greer and I exchanged a grin before we went over to join Colt, and then
we got our fun. Or the first part of our fun, I should say. I started with Tate,
sensing he was better focused than Corey and Gael.
We spun them around. Colt took care of Cam and Gael at the same time,
leaving Greer to make his own boy dizzy.
“What the—!”
“I’d shut up if I were you, brat,” Greer told him.
A few more rapid circles, and then Colt said, “Sixty seconds on the
clock—now!”
We stepped aside and let the boys fumble and steady themselves, not
without protests. Oh my gosh, where are we? Is it this way? I can’t see you,
so I don’t know! Fucking hell, just—let’s try this way. It’s slightly brighter
by the patio doors.
Good observation by Tate. I made another note.
Then someone coughed over in the audience, and Cam picked up on it.
“It’s gotta be this way.” He felt around blindly till he grabbed on to Gael
and sent him in the correct direction, followed by Corey and Tate. The latter
was already on his way there.
“Thirty seconds left!” Greer announced.
“Fuck.” Tate found the boxes by the platform first and fell to his knees.
“Follow the sound!” He shook the boxes, rattling the collection of
handcuffs.
To their credit, they got started immediately, tossing the toys around and
into the boxes they’d previously agreed.
“It’s one point per correctly sorted toy,” Colt said.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Corey urged.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!”
“Crap, crap, flogger in the right one,” Gael rambled.
I grinned.
“Four! Three! Two! One!” Colt blew the whistle. “Back away from the
boxes!”

“Every second counts!” Greer yelled.

“Push it!” I tossed the tennis ball to Tate, who groaned and caught it.
Catching tennis balls was easy enough, but they had to do it while
performing wall-sits, as in, they pressed their backs against the wall and
kept their knees at a ninety-degree angle, heels touching the floor. Some
called it the devil’s chair, and that seemed accurate enough for me.
“Fuck it, I can’t!” Tate lost the strength in his legs and collapsed on the
floor about two seconds before Gael went down with a yelp.
“All right, Tate and Gael don’t wanna train their quads—it’s up to you
two now!” Greer gathered a few more tennis balls.
I did the same.
When I tossed one to Corey and he didn’t catch it, he let out a long
“Nooo!” and I went forward again and twisted his nipples through his shirt.
“Ouch, goddammit!”
“All this bitchin’ and moanin’,” Colt muttered with a shake of his head.
Tate and Gael glared weakly as they tried to catch their breath.
I’d lost count of the times I’d failed to hide my laughter.

“Twenty seconds on the clock—go!” I barked out.

Cam sprinted up on the platform and started picking candy off the web,
each piece attached with a nipple clamp. He could only get one before he
had to return to the edge of the stage and drop the candy into a bucket. Then
rinse and repeat, back to the web.
“Come on, Cam, you can do it!” Gael jumped and clapped.
“Remember, if you don’t grab the one at the very top, no pieces count,”
Greer reminded.
“Yeah, I heard you the first three times,” Cam bit out.
I chuckled under my breath and made a quick note. Cam was getting
testy. He was one of those sweethearts who kept his inner brat on a tight
leash, so when he let go, he was fucking done.
“I’m so glad politeness is important for a good grade,” Colt mentioned.
“Right?” I checked the stopwatch. “Ten seconds to go, Cam.”
Cam grunted and started climbing the web to snatch the top piece. “I
remember now why I hated PE in high school.”
“Because you didn’t have us as coaches?” I asked.
“That’s gotta be it.” Greer nodded.
Cam huffed.
“Four seconds—three, two…”
Cam rushed over to the bucket and tossed the lollipop in there, then
promptly bent over to rest his hands on his thighs and pant.
I walked over to the bucket, counting seven pieces, including the top-
positioned lollipop. It looked real tasty, so I picked it up and unwrapped the
sweet.
“Isn’t that for us?” Corey gaped at me.
I stuck the lollipop in my mouth and raised a brow.
“Why would it be for you?” Greer followed suit and snatched up a
couple chocolates. “This is PE, not some candy class. We’re here to keep
you on your toes.”
“By eating our candy!” Gael laughed.
“It was never yours to begin with, little one.” Colt ruffled my boy’s hair
and grabbed a fun-sized packet of Junior Mints.
Tate sucked his teeth. “All right. Are we done here? I’m fucking
drenched.”
Oh-ho. I shifted the strawberry lollipop from one cheek to the other and
picked up my clipboard. “Attitude from Tate. Noted.”
Corey legit balled his hands into fists. “I’m. So. Over. The. Notebooks.”
Greer tossed me a smirk. “It’s possible I have one at home. Kid gets
riled up every time I make a note.”
I let out a laugh. That was a good idea.
“Don’t even think about it, Daddy,” Gael blurted out.
Oh really? Don’t even think about it?
Colt and Greer shook their heads at the boy.
“I reckon that’s one for insolence there too,” I said, dropping my gaze to
the clipboard. “Gael getting bossy with his superiors—won’t look good on
your report card, chiquito.”
“But it’ll look great in my brat book,” Corey told him. “I think we
should start our own note keeping. You just scored ten points.”
The smug grin on Gael’s face was full of promise. No shit, he had a brat
in him, waiting to be unleashed.
I couldn’t fucking wait.

Since Colt, Greer, and I had our break for the next thirty minutes, we let a
couple assistants prepare our stations again while we headed in different
directions to spy on our brats. Well, Greer and I aimed for Room 5, and Colt
was off to find Kit.
I discarded my lollipop along the way.
Room 5 was one of the two shower rooms on the second floor, and it
was completely covered in white tiles, from floor to ceiling. Including a
bench or two where one could sit or drop towels. But for the biology class,
Ty had gotten his hands on a lab table that he’d wheeled in there. He—and I
presumed Lane—had also brought a lizard and a snake.
 Sloan and KC had used their meager event budget to rent five study
desks and lab coats.
“Hi, Daddy!” Corey was excited to see Sloan.
Greer and I walked in as the boys got seated, and we weren’t alone. A
handful of members from the audience were here too, and we stayed behind
the red tape on the floor.
“That’s Ziggy and Tank!” Corey pointed at the reptiles in their
enclosures on the table. “Nobody has to be afraid—they’re super friendly.
Ziggy is my cousin’s California kingsnake, and Tank is Ty’s blue-tongued
skink.”
Gael wasn’t afraid of lizards, but Cam and Tate were clearly not fans.
“Unfortunately, I’m dating someone who’s obsessed with reptiles and
creepy-crawlies,” Cam muttered. “Noa even rescues moths and spiders.”
Okay, I drew the line at bees. I saved bees, and I occasionally let a
spider outside—unless I knew it was venomous. Those shits got flushed
down the toilet.
Ty waited patiently at the lab table, half leaning back against it. Sloan
folded his arms over his chest, and KC shifted in his wheelchair.
Out of the three, I knew KC was the wild card. Someone whose
threshold for mischief was insanely high, because he loved brats more than
anything, but once that line was crossed…
I’d only gotten a glimpse of it myself, but I’d read some of Noa’s and
Cam’s writings online.
“We’ll be quiet now, Professors!” Corey promised.
“By all means…” Ty shrugged and stuck his hands in the pockets of his
lab coat. “I’m not the one in need of a good grade.”
I was looking forward to getting to know Ty better. He and Lane were
Walker and Macklin’s partners, and I’d heard a thing or two about Ty and
his boy being into hedonism.
That was me when I visited my mother’s family in Chile. If I wasn’t up
in the mountains at my abuelito’s ranch, I was with my tias outside
Atacama, where they ran a beach resort for hipsters. I had my own beach
hut there. Surfing, fishing, gorging on fruit, catching sun—it was heaven.
One day, I was gonna take Dean and Gael there.
“When you’re ready to actually learn something, you may remove your
ties and shirts,” KC instructed.
 Gael threw a glance over his shoulder, spotting me here, and I gave him
an encouraging smile. He had nothing to worry about.
He smiled tentatively in return and began loosening his tie.
Greer leaned closer to me. “You workin’ on his body issues?”
I inclined my head. “Stubborn insecurity—but he’s come a long way
already.”
“That’s good. He’s cute as shit.”
That he was.
It became clear that KC and Sloan were in charge of the first part of the
class, and the boys went rigid when KC pulled out a Wartenberg wheel. Its
sharp little points gleamed in the bright lights, and it understandably stole
most of the focus from the boys.
“I want you to listen carefully here,” Sloan warned. “There will be a test
at the end of the class, so pay attention to what we say. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Professor Daddy,” Corey responded.
“Yes, Professor Wallace,” the others followed.
What came next was an impressive harangue from Sloan about how
many nerve endings we had in our nipples, something about sensory
receptors, and why men had them. Truth be told, it was difficult to
concentrate when KC was running the pinwheel across the boys’ nipples “to
demonstrate.” And even though Greer and I only saw their backs from our
position, it was entertaining to watch them tense up and giggle nervously.
I leaned closer to Greer this time. “We should add a couple pinwheels to
the Easter eggs next month.”
“Fuck yeah,” he whispered back. “It’s an underrated tool.”
It definitely was.
“We hope you paid attention because this will be on the test,” Sloan
finished. “Now, here’s Ty to discuss asphyxiation.”
Well, hey. I was listening. Breath play was hot, and it was a kink I
enjoyed being on the receiving end of as well. As Dean could attest.
Ty had already brought out the snake for this bit, a black-and-white—
what was it Corey had called it?—California something. The snake was
fairly long, about twenty inches or so, though it wasn’t easy to tell when it
coiled up around Ty’s hand and wrist.
“Ironically, this little constrictor is a biter,” he started by saying. “The
California kingsnake is one of our most popular snakes to keep as pets, but
they’re equally famous for being docile as they are for biting when irritated.
Where most snakes might try to escape and hide, this one has the attitude of
a brat.”
“Just great,” Tate sighed.
Ty walked between the desks so all the brats could get a close-up. “But
as I indicated, the kingsnake chokes their prey to death, despite not actually
being part of the constrictor family. In fact, it’s a colubrid snake—and it’s
still the strongest constrictor of them all. This guy will take out a Burmese
of the same size.”
“Pardon me, Professor…?” Gael raised his hand. “May we write
notes?”
“That would be useful—but no.” Ty smiled and returned to his lecture.
“The California kingsnake’s ability to choke out their prey so expertly, even
though it’s a slender fella, is useful because it’s one of those snakes that
enjoys snacking on rattlesnakes. For which Californians are ever thankful.
And this is where scientists theorize that maybe the kingsnake has evolved
over thousands of years—to become this strong—because it’s required in
order to kill another snake that doesn’t need as much oxygen as most
mammals do.” He returned to the front, where he eased Ziggy back into his
enclosure. “I remember when I went to a kink party about twelve years ago
and witnessed my first asphyxiation scene.” He glanced back at the boys.
“One might’ve thought that guy was a constrictor. The douchebag went
straight for his girlfriend’s windpipe.”
Excellent class. What he said couldn’t fucking be stressed enough.
KC cleared his throat. “Even though we call it breath control, we know
it’s not primarily about cutting off a bottom’s air supply. Can someone tell
me what we regulate during an asphyxiation scene?”
I was relieved to see four hands in the hair.
“Gael.” KC nodded.
“The oxygen going to the brain, Professor,” Gael responded politely.
That’s my boy.
“Correct—good job,” KC said. “We’re gonna do a quick demo on a
volunteer—”
“I volunteer!” Corey shot right up from his seat, causing Greer to shake
with silent laughs.
Sloan too.
“Okay, that’s a lot of excitement—I’m just pointin’ it out,” Ty drawled.
“After the demo, we’re gonna discuss ovoviviparity before we give you a
fun quiz with forty-five questions from today’s class.”
All of a sudden, you could hear a pin drop, and Corey slumped down in
his seat again.
“Forty-five?” Cam whispered.
Ty was happier now.
Greer nudged me. “We should probably get ready for our next brat
surge.”
Yeah, sadly. Damn.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 15

Dean Aavik

K ingsley and I waited by the door as Gael, Tate, Corey, and Cam entered
the room and walked toward their desks. If I was going to “pretend” to
be a professor, I’d do it by bringing back all the things I wish we had at GW
and other universities. As in, proper desks and a big, nice oak teacher’s desk
at the front. Naturally with a green banker’s lamp and a chesterfield chair.
It was possible I’d taken everything except for the students’ study desk
from my own home. It was also possible I was hoping to move it to
Joshua’s house after tonight.
Kingsley was on the same page as me; it was why he’d requested Room
8. On a normal day, it was the bondage crowd’s dojo, but when stripped of
screens and rope racks, it was a gorgeous room meant for entertaining.
River and Reese had preserved and restored it, rather than paint it black like
they had with most other rooms in the house. With its high ceilings, paneled
walls, velvet curtains, crown molding, balcony facing the front yard, and
chandelier, it was my favorite area of the house.
I checked my pocket watch, and Kingsley closed the door a bit as the
last, I presumed, of the members enjoying the show had entered. Half a
dozen took their places along the back wall.
Kingsley picked up his riding crop from where he’d left it leaning
against a wall earlier, and he began making his way up the room, between
the two rows of desks.
“Welcome to your history class,” he said quietly. “I’m Professor
Madden. Up-up—” He smacked the crop lightly against Tate’s back.
“Shoulders squared, back straight, chin up, face forward. We demand
perfect posture in here. Gael—no crooked ties.”
I nodded once to myself and watched the brats straighten in their seats,
and then I joined Kingsley at the front.
“Good afternoon, you unruly little libertines.” I turned around and faced
them. “I’m Professor Aavik, and we’ll start today’s class with a test. But
since we’re short on time, we hope you can multitask. Professor Madden
and I will provide you with answers as we give you a lecture during the
test.” I gestured for Kingsley to get started, and he handed out the
questionnaire along with four pens. “As fine little BDSM members, we trust
you know your kink history.”
I soaked up the expressions of nervousness and distaste from the brats.
A test was always an easy route to upset them.
“During our lecture, we’ll also assist you with helpful advice on how to
sit and behave properly,” I added.
“Aren’t you kind,” Corey mumbled under his breath.
“For instance! When you wish to speak, you raise your hand first,” I
declared. “Then when we allow you to run your mouth, you stand up beside
your desk and say what you have to say.”
Gael raised his hand, and I inclined my head.
He rose from his seat, positioned himself next to the desk, and simply
said, “Yikes.” Then he sat down again.
Don’t laugh.
Tate and Corey couldn’t help it—they laughed and hurriedly stifled their
sounds, and I was thankful Kingsley stepped in because I was too happy
Gael was settling in with his goofball behavior as much as he was with his
new friends.
“Think twice before you brat off again, little Gael,” Kingsley told him.
“Next time, we will deduct five points from your final score. Same warning
to the rest of you. Choose your words wisely.”
This time, the “Yikes” was only visible in Gael’s expression.
“The test begins now,” I stated. The boys instantly turned the
questionnaire around and picked up their pens. “It should be fairly easy,
considering it’s only sixty questions and we’re serving you the answers on a
silver platter.”
“Exactly—so with that said,” Kingsley continued, “let’s begin our class.
For instance, as with so many other fields, BDSM has its roots across the
board, and of course, we don’t call it kink until we add consent. But there’s
no denying that many of our beloved fetishes stem from actual torture
methods and or are inspired by people who’d be banned from any kink club
today—rightly so.”
I grabbed four of the five dictionaries we kept on the desk, and I arrived
at Tate first. While he wrote as quickly as possible, jumping between
questions on the paper, I placed one of the books on his head.
“Do not drop it,” I said.
He swallowed hard and slowed down his movements.
“Two of those people are sometimes called the fathers of libertinism,”
Kingsley went on. “Most of you have heard of Marquis de Sade, but John
Wilmot is deserving of his mention as well. Men without scruples and
morals, men who were imprisoned or exiled for their repeated abuse of
prostitutes and mistresses. The marquis narrowly escaped death for his
offenses of flogging women he kept imprisoned.”
Once all the boys had books balanced on their heads, I returned to half
sit on the desk, and I clasped my hands in front of me.
“Flogging brings us to many of those toys we utilize in kink today,” I
said. “I believe the first English mention of a pillory was from the 1200s—
now we have one on the front lawn—and you can go back another hundred
years to find mentions of it in French. Stocks go back even further, to
Ancient Greece, as a popular form of public humiliation.”
Kingsley traced his crop alongside Corey’s leg. “Knees together—all of
you.”
“In the 1700s, we start seeing more consensual forms of flagellation and
D/s,” I continued. “The famous Berkley Horse was invented by a brothel
madam in London. You may have heard of Theresa Berkley. She wasn’t the
first, but she is one of our most famous Dominatrixes in kink history.”
“It was actually a popular hobby among the wealthy of that time in
England,” Kingsley said. “Both male and female aristocrats went to visit
brothels around that time, to be spanked, flogged, whipped, and restrained.”
I walked slowly toward Gael’s desk, the floorboards creaking a little
along the way.
Cam dropped his book on the desk and hurriedly returned it to its
position on his head. “My deepest apologies, Professors!”
“Politeness goes a long way—no points deducted,” I said.
The boy exhaled.
 I came to a stop behind Gael as Kingsley shifted the lecture to American
kink history—what we brought over from Europe and Asia, and when.
Then I dipped down and dropped a soft kiss to Gael’s neck.
“I’m tempted to ask you to stay behind after class,” I whispered in his
ear. “So you can suck your Professor’s cock.”
He sucked in a breath, and the book thumped down on the desk.
“I’m s-sorry, Professor,” he croaked, returning the book to his head.
I rubbed my hands down his arms and smiled to myself. “I wonder if it
could be done,” I mused quietly. “Do you think you can get me off in two
minutes?”
“Y-yes, Professor.” He rushed out the whisper.
Well. As his Owner, I was allowed to grant myself that relief, wasn’t I?
I thought so.
I trailed back to my desk and leaned close to Kingsley, letting him know
Gael would stay behind, and I gestured at Tate, in case Kingsley needed
something as well.
He did.

“Last but not least—what I lovingly refer to as the solution,” Kingsley said.
“The ball gag. The ultimate brat silencer. Works every time. Much like the
bit gag, it’s been around for hundreds of years, both in animal control and
medical practices.”
Tate and Corey did a semi-all right job of not glaring at Kingsley.
I smirked and checked my watch. “One minute left!”
Walker and Penelope chose that moment to check in on the class.
I adjusted my cock and leaned back against the desk, and Kingsley took
a lap to collect the dictionaries. The boys breathed a sigh of relief to get rid
of the books on their heads—but they should be proud. Only three drops
throughout the class was an improvement over the fourth group we’d had
before. Little Camden had dropped his book twice, Lane once, and Nora
once too.
“Are you behaving, boys?” Penelope asked.
The boys turned toward the door.
“Yes, Headmistress,” Tate answered.
 “They try,” Kingsley drawled.
Penelope and my brother smirked a little and left again.
Cam bit his lip and turned his questionnaire upside down, then placed
his pen on top of it, indicating he was done.
Corey followed shortly, then Gael and Tate.
Tate rubbed his temples.
Corey raised his hand.
“Yes, Corey.” I nodded.
He stood up. “I hope you like doodles, Professors.”
I lifted a brow and stifled my amusement. “We prefer correct answers.”
“Well, I prefer fried chicken and questions about frogs, of which I got
neither, sooo…I guess we’re even. But thank you for a great class!”
Kingsley and I exchanged a look.
He turned to the boy. “I’ll be having a chat with your Owners about
your attitude. You’re dismissed—but Tate and Gael will stay behind.”
Corey made a face and scratched his forehead. “If I’m gonna carpe
friggin’ diem, I can’t worry about the regrets I’ll have tomorrow.”
Oh Christ, I hoped Greer and Sloan opted for a public display—and not
tomorrow.
“Make us proud, guys,” Cam said slyly to Tate and Gael. “Maybe score
us some extra points.”
I chuckled under my breath, and my boy flushed. Judging by the furtive
glances he threw at the audience, he was probably wondering if we were
going to send them off for the next part, but I saw no reason to. Kingsley
didn’t either. Side by side, leaning back against the desk, we summoned our
boys to come forward.
“On your knees,” I murmured.
Gael immediately dropped right in front of me, and I undid my belt,
then my pants.
Kingsley touched Tate’s cheek. “I hope you scored high today, boy.”
“I think I did, Professor. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” Tate
replied.
I hummed and pulled out my cock for Gael, and he wasted no time. He
closed the distance between us and sucked me into his mouth, and I let out a
long breath and gripped the edge of the desk.
My favorite little student. He was such a wonderful cocksucker. So
good at pleasing me.
 “That’s it,” Kingsley exhaled.
Exactly what we needed.
Fuck.
I took a deep breath and wove my fingers through Gael’s hair, and I
began moving him over my cock faster. A bit deeper. And once I was rock
hard, I let go of the desk so I could fuck his pretty little mouth properly.
I caught a glint of something shiny in the corner of my eye and spotted a
bracelet—or a cuff, rather—on Tate’s wrist. Actually, he had one on each
wrist, and I remembered seeing a photo of them online. Kingsley’s collar.
One day, I was going to find something similar for Gael.
I peered down at him and stared hungrily as I pushed my cock in and
out of his mouth, and the pleasure built up rapidly. Even more so when he
kept trying to snake his soft, wet, greedy little tongue around me every time
I pulled out.
He never broke eye contact, and with his big, blue, almost natural
puppy-dog eyes, he lured out all my possessiveness in one wild rush. It
filled every fiber of my being and tightened my grip on his head. Christ, I
was going to own this boy for as long as I lived.
When his eyes welled up at the same time as he grabbed on to the backs
of my thighs, I groaned and felt the head of me rub up against the back of
his throat. Right there. My breathing became labored within a few thrusts,
and I wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Daddy’s perfect little cocksucker. Almost there—” I clenched my jaw,
and it almost became too much. I wasn’t ready yet. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not
fucking helpful to hear Kingsley give in to his orgasm less than two feet
away.
Goddamn, I couldn’t resist.
I let go and started coming down Gael’s throat, and my climax was only
prolonged by his choking sounds. Not to mention his deep-rooted desire to
please me. He didn’t release his grip on me; he pushed himself forward, and
I absently brushed away a stray tear rolling down his cheek. Perfect, perfect
little love. My darling peach—fuck, he could suck cock. I shuddered
violently, my energy draining out of me, and he gulped and swallowed and
gagged and swallowed some more.
In the end, I collapsed against the desk again, and Gael panted, sniffled,
and sucked me clean.
“Jesus fuck.” I scrubbed a hand over my face.
 “Thank you for letting me give you relief, Professor,” he said hoarsely.
I shivered once more, and I tucked myself back into my pants before I
pulled him to his feet. “My amazing boy.” I cupped his face in my hands
and kissed him hard.
And there it was, his adorable grin.
I kissed him again, tasting myself on his tongue, and hummed. Now I
couldn’t wait for the evening to be over.

“Class dismissed!” Kingsley said.

“Three times—three freaking times!” Shay was still pissed he’d
dropped the book. Three times.
“On the bright side, your Owners will have fun with your training,” I
offered.
The boy huffed and rose to his feet. “I should be an expert at this shit,
considering how many times River tells me to hold books and other heavy
crap when we do predicament bondage.”
I chuckled.
Out in the hall, we heard Gretchen and Franklin summon all the
students to the Great Hall for our last assembly, and Kingsley and I made
sure we were the last to leave the room.
Since we had no results to share right away, I was mostly looking
forward to the ultimate school cafeteria buffet of sandwiches, apples, mac
and cheese cups, pizza slices, and carrot sticks. Perhaps not the latter.
Ivy and Archie had been in charge of the upcoming snack meal, so I felt
confident that it would be delicious. I’d heard a rumor about pie too, but I
hadn’t confirmed it.
We caught up to Franklin on the way down the stairs.
“Franklin,” I said, and he glanced back at me. “Will there be pie? I
heard something about that.”
“Yes, Sir,” he responded. “Archie made apple pie for everyone.”
Oh, wonderful. Now I was really excited.
“Excellent, thank you.”
Members gathered in the club area, where all the chairs had been
returned to neat rows in front of the stage. I excused myself briefly to go to
the bathroom so I could take my insulin, and by the time I was done, all the
brats were seated once more. I took my seat between Lucian and Ty on the
platform, and I checked my watch.
I had a feeling my monitor would go off any moment now, though I’d
muted the sound.
When two hands clamped down on my shoulders, I glanced up to see
Joshua had made it back too.
“Do you have everything you need, sweetheart?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, and there will be pie shortly,” I said, satisfied.
He grinned and shook his head. “You’re too cute sometimes.”
I wasn’t going to argue.
Walker and Penelope took the stage and did a swift job at silencing the
brats. The sight of flushed faces, bratty excitement, and exhaustion was a
lovely combination to behold, so I’d consider it a successful event.
Walker and Penelope took turns giving their two cents about the day and
the brats’ behavior, with Penelope offering the generous praise, “In fact, we
only had to dole out punishments to four students.”
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Greer spoke up from behind me. “I just found
out I have to carpe both a diem and a brat, so I thought I’d do that out on
the lawn after we’ve eaten.”
“Oh, Corey,” Kit snickered from the crowd.
“Crap,” Corey sighed. “Sometimes, regret comes faster than I do.”
I couldn’t help but laugh—and I wasn’t the only one.
“A show to look forward to,” Penelope replied with a nod. “There you
have it, students. Your grades will be available on the online forum
tomorrow, along with your Professors’ and Coaches’ notes. Dinner will be
served in the kitchen in ten minutes, which gives you enough time to clean
up, grab a Mclean House Academy T-shirt, and presumably gossip about
next month’s Game.”
That sure had every brat’s attention.
Walker delivered the news. “Happy early Easter. We’re going to have an
Easter egg hunt in a few weeks.”
“Fuck yeah!” Noa shouted.
“Oh my God, that’s so exciting!”
“Is it, though? The Sadists are gonna find a way to ruin it.”
“They don’t call me a maso for nothin’!”
 “Holy crap, can you imagine an Easter egg full of sprinkles and ice
cream toppings?”
Lucian and I clearly had the same idea; we wanted to beat the brats to
the cafeteria line, so we left the stage—and the buzzing brats—behind and
headed for the exit. I didn’t dare haul Gael away from his friends right now.
He should be having fun with them.
“Have you tried Archie’s mac and cheese before?” Lucian asked. “It’s
divine. Cam got the recipe the other day, and I foresee a new staple at
home.”
“I haven’t. I am looking forward to the pie, though,” I replied. Then I
slowed down when I noticed traces of distress in Lucian’s expression. He
was pale too. “Are you all right, Lucian?”
“Yes, I—” He waved it off and released a heavy breath. “It’s been a long
week. I just need to rest for a bit.”
I frowned, wondering if a “bit” of rest was all he needed. He had high
blood pressure, if I remembered correctly. Gael had mentioned it after the
cooking class when he’d made plans with Cameron.
I decided to speak with KC later. In the meantime, I’d keep an eye on
Lucian.

We successfully beat the cafeteria rush, and I brought a tray filled with
snacks and beverages to the patio—and I was satisfied to see Lucian do the
same, with help from Cam and KC. Along with Noa, they sat down at one
of the tables outside, and Cam angled one of the heaters closer to them
before turning his full attention to his Master. Lucian looked relieved to be
sitting down and having his boy close, so I felt I could relax a bit more.
Joshua and I sat down with Gael between us at another table, where
Colt, Ty, and Lane soon joined us.
“Do you need a blanket, baby?” Joshua rubbed Gael’s arms. We were
seated fairly close to the edge of the awning, and it was raining a few feet
away.
“No, Sir, I’m good,” Gael replied happily. The boy was distracted,
seemingly intent on keeping track of where everyone sat down. “Kit! Over
here!”
 Kit and Lucas trailed over with their own trays.
“Can you believe it? An Easter egg hunt!” Kit was definitely excited
about the next event, and so was my peach.
“I can’t wait!” Gael replied.
Colt was quick to dig in, whereas Ty and Lane had disappeared into an
invisible bubble where only they existed. I existed for my two—and the
food. And before Joshua could utter a word, I nodded and gave him a
pointed look. Yes, I’d taken my insulin.
An ounce of sheepishness seeped into his expression, and he leaned
behind Gael, so I did the same.
“I’m sorry. I’ll dial it back,” he said quietly.
I shook my head and kissed him. “Don’t.”
I was getting used to having someone fuss over me. It wasn’t a bad
feeling.
“Goddamn, this mac and cheese is somethin’ else,” Colt said with his
mouth full.
I gave Joshua one more kiss, and then I had to put food first. I was
practically starving. Joshua dove into Daddy mode and fixed Gael a plate
from the tray, and I went straight for the pie. The brats were busy chatting
—suddenly, so were Joshua and Lucas—so I could indulge. The pie was
incredible, rich in flavor, both sweet and tart, with a perfectly crumbly
crust. Two bites, I allowed myself. Then I switched to the actual food,
because otherwise, I’d have Gael pointing out that he, too, wanted to eat
dessert before his meal, and Joshua would give a spiel.
Lucian had been right. Archie’s mac and cheese was amazing, and—
“Ohhh, but you said after, Dominus!”
One brat’s whining rose above the post-event din of kinksters talking
about the classes, and I glanced up as Greer came outside with a Corey
thrown over his shoulder.
Wonderful. Mealtime entertainment.
“Should we do something?” Kit whispered.
Colt barked out a laugh. “The fuck you should, li’l darlin’. Eat your
supper and enjoy the show.”
“Daddy, save me!” Corey called out.
“Sorry, sweetheart, you made your bed,” Sloan replied with a
sympathetic smile.
 Greer didn’t care it was raining. He stepped off the deck and away from
the heaters’ reach, and he lowered Corey to the ground just in front of the
covered pool. “Stay.”
Corey huffed and scowled up at him. “I’m not a dog!”
“Clearly not, ’cause they obey,” Greer retorted.
“I can’t watch this.” Kit covered his face with his hands, and Gael’s
approach wasn’t entirely different. I noticed he was hiding his face behind
me.
Meanwhile, most others were enjoying themselves, including many
brats. Lane was smirking at his cousin, Shay was filming on his phone, and
Noa went, “Take it like a champ, Corey!”
“But crying is encouraged.” Reese threw that out there. “We like it
when y’all write checks your asses can’t cash.”
I chuckled and bit into a sandwich.
“Oh, this is brand-new information,” Corey snarked. He huffed again
and wiped raindrops from his face. “Ugh, let’s get this over with. It’s cold
out here—and the rain is freezing!”
Greer scratched his jaw. “I hear what you’re sayin’. It’s best you strip
down. You don’t wanna get your clothes wet.”
I shook my head in amusement. Why was the boy stalling? He knew he
was going to get it. The longer he waited… Then again, maso brats couldn’t
help themselves.
“Maybe we shoulda put chemistry on the schedule, though,” Greer went
on. “You see, when rain freezes, it becomes snow.”
“What’s your point?!” Corey barked out.
“Oh Christ.” Lane cracked up and face-palmed.
Greer bent down a bit to get to Corey’s level. “I’ll spell it out for you,
brat. The rain ain’t freezin’. You’re just bitching over a little water.”
“Don’t take the bait, don’t take the bait,” Gael whispered against my
arm.
I grinned.
Corey took the bait. He glared at his Owner and put his hands on his
hips. “I don’t love you very much right now, Sir. In fact, you suck.”
Bingo. Greer could do this all night. He’d keep racking up Corey’s
offenses until the boy—
“How much do I suck?” Greer asked.
 “For the love of God, Corey!” Archie called out. “It’s the cheapest form
of sadistic clickbait—don’t fall for it, love.”
Corey clammed up, as if catching himself, and Greer turned a narrowed-
eyed look on his slave.
“Cheapest form? Really, baby? You’re insulting your Master in front of
everyone?”
Archie turned to Sloan, subtle-like, and scrubbed a hand over his face,
and he spoke quietly, just loud enough for Joshua and me to hear.
“Sometimes, his Catholic upbringing shines brighter than any red ass he’s
given Corey.”
I coughed around a laugh, and so did Colt—and he spoke up too.
“Hey, pet, I heard that,” Colt told him. “When did you become a brat?”
Archie looked mildly offended. “I’m not a brat, Sir. I’m only trying to
protect my boyfriend.”
“Aww!” Corey grinned goofily. “I love—gah!” Those were his last
words before Greer swooped him up, threw him over his shoulder again,
and stalked toward the pool.
“Can someone roll back the cover?” he hollered.
“Fuck yes.” Colt hurriedly crammed half a sandwich into his mouth and
left his seat, and he was joined by Reese and River.
“What—no! No!” Corey screamed. “Let me down, Master! Stop it!
Don’t you dare!”
“Oh my gosh, it’s gonna be frigid,” Gael said nervously.
“Most likely,” I laughed.
Gael made a noise of protest. “You’re enjoying this, Daddy.”
I turned back to him and smiled. “Of course I am. It’s the best kind of
entertainment.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I thought you didn’t like brats.”
I took another bite of my sandwich and exchanged a brief look with
Joshua. To the sweet sounds of Corey’s desperate screaming.
“There are perks,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. Because I
knew my sweet boy had a brat in him, something Joshua couldn’t wait to
explore further with him. And I wanted them both to know I was very much
looking forward to catching a show here and there. “Delightful perks.”
Seconds later, we heard a big splash as Greer threw Corey into the cold
water of the swimming pool, something that was met with cheers and
applause from the Sadists, and winces and sympathy from most brats. Lane
and Shay were two exceptions. They were laughing their rears off.
Corey let out a shrill scream as he resurfaced. “Motherfucking shit piss
fuuuuck! Get me out of here!”
“Baby, grab our slave,” Greer told Sloan.
I glanced toward Archie just as he tensed up, his face morphing into an
expression of horror, but it was too late. Sloan acted fast, and then he was
dragging Archie to the pool.
“You can’t be serious!” Archie cried out. “Master, please! I beg you!”
Greer merely stepped aside so Sloan could push their pet into the water
too.
Meanwhile, Reese prevented Corey from trying to leave the pool. Every
time the boy attempted to push himself up on the edge, Reese was there to
shove him back in.
“Oh my fucking—” Archie stifled his own scream and swam toward the
edge.
“I’ve freakin’ had it!” Corey yelled. “Do you know how cold it is?!”
“It’s not freezing,” Reese supplied helpfully.
“Maybe it’s time to warm him up,” Sloan said. “I’ll go get a paddle.”
Amazing. The entertainment continued.
I ate some more mac and cheese, and I caught Kit and Gael looking at
each other.
“I’m think I’m gonna be a good boy for a while,” Gael admitted.
“Yeah, met too.” Kit swallowed hard.
Well. When it came to brats, that “while” could end very swiftly.

OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE 1

Dean Aavik
A week later

If someone had told me mere weeks ago that I would be sitting in my

favorite reading chair today, the fire in the fireplace casting a comfortable
glow over the living room, with a wonderful little boy at my feet and an
equally wonderful man cooking up a storm in the kitchen, I would’ve… I
probably would’ve fallen into a pit of depression because of how farfetched
that sounded.
Every second of this moment, every fragment of this picture, and every
scent wafting over me filled me with so much serenity that I couldn’t focus
one bit on the book I was reading. From the smell of leather and oil from
Joshua’s new dining room table and the coffee on my side table, to the
heavenly work lunches he was preparing for Gael and me. The sizzling
sound of chicken hitting the skillet, Joshua’s humming along to the music
he played… Gael’s signature snickering—he was reading quite the page-
turner while he rested his cheek against my knee. It took a special person to
find my sense of humor funny, especially when it was a book about
politicians during wartime. But Gael evidently enjoyed my dry remarks on
Truman, Johnson, and Chamberlain.
Maybe because he understood. Gael lived and breathed history almost
as much as I did—and I looked like a fool every time I thought back on the
day I’d told him we’d probably never be on the same page in life.
I closed my own book and took a sip of my coffee. No use in pretending
to read. I just wanted to sit here and revel until we had to go. I checked my
watch—roughly an hour. Then we had dinner at KC and Lucian’s house.
I combed my fingers through Gael’s hair, and he kissed my knee and
grinned to himself as he turned another page.
Surely it was too soon to believe I was in love, but…fifty-four years on
this planet, and I was utterly clueless on the matter. I could only claim that
everything just felt so fucking right that I was torn between wanting to
freeze time and push forward to experience more of Gael and Joshua. They
had my chest in a vise.
Almost as if he knew I was thinking about him, Gael rested his chin on
my kneecap and peered up at me.
I smiled and confirmed it to myself—yes, it was too soon to speak those
three words out loud, but I felt them. I felt them within, and I felt them from
him. We were on the same page after all.
“My beautiful boy.” I stroked his cheek.
He beamed. “I could say the same about you! Only, Daddy instead of
boy. And Owner and Master and Professor.”
I chuckled.

There was that feeling again. As we walked up to Lucian’s house, part of

me wanted to head back to Joshua’s place, while the other part was very
much looking forward to the evening with our friends. Cam and Gael had
plans to bake pies after dinner. Noa was off rehearsing with his band—I’d
learned he was a drummer—so he’d join us later. Joshua and KC were
going to pick each other’s brains about a future interrogation scene, and I
had more catching up to do with Lucian.
It was a very nice house. One part old, one part modern. They’d
remodeled last year, and now the indoor pool area was encased in glass
instead of brick so that they could open up in the summer. It was the perfect
place for KC’s rehab training. He had to work out every day in order the
keep the strength he had left in his legs.
Gael scurried up toward the main entrance along the short end of the
house, and he rang the doorbell. “Hurry, Daddies!”
“Are we in a rush, little one?” Joshua chuckled and slipped his hand
into mine.
 I gave it a squeeze.
Cam opened the door as we reached Gael, and KC and Lucian weren’t
far behind. The boys were excited to see each other, though Cam’s focus
remained on being Lucian’s slave. The boy offered to take our coats and
told us there were welcome drinks in the den.
Gael observed every move Cam made, and it was a wonderful part of
my boy’s journey to follow. He was finding his way, turning it into his own
path, with a unique twist that was all him, and it just made me love—yes,
love. Goddammit, I loved him.

After a terrific dinner, the “grown-ups” got some privacy once Cam and
Gael had cleared the table and served coffee and treats. We stayed in the
dining room, and they retreated to the kitchen for their next activity.
I’d offered to drive so Joshua could share a bottle of wine with KC and
Lucian, and now they moved on to cognac and whiskey.
I was more interested in the chocolate-covered Madeleines that Cam
had prepared.
I dipped one in my coffee as KC and Joshua chatted about work. More
importantly, cutting down on work. Another development that filled me
with more pleasure than I could describe. Joshua wanted to work less,
possibly go down to half time, and he was speaking in terms of “a few
months.”
“That’s what Lucian’s been trying to do for a year now,” KC said. Not
without a wry little look for his partner. “But it seems there’s always one
more client, one more case—”
“You’re the lawyer—not me, darling,” Lucian pointed out. “I don’t have
cases.”
“Oh, fucking semantics.” KC rolled his eyes. “You do have clients,
though. Too many of them.”
Joshua had cases. I gave his leg a squeeze, definitely happy to hear
more about his plans for cutting back. But I was also hoping to hear about
Lucian doing the same because he looked very tired these days.
“I’m not in a position to just walk away,” Lucian replied. “I have long-
term clients whose portfolios I’ve managed for years. It takes time.”
 Understandable, but he was wrong about one thing. We could, in fact,
walk away. Lucian worked in finance, and his field wasn’t all that different
from what my brother did. He was a problem-solver for a large hotel chain,
and I’d watched him over the years. Same kind of speeches—just this
project, just one more work trip. Slowing down was always postponed.
“I reckon we’ve all reached the age where we have to prioritize,” Joshua
said. “If I kept the hours I did when I was with the MPD, I’d keel the fuck
over. Besides—” he shrugged “—I don’t want to anymore. I’mma let Dean
be my sugar daddy soon enough.”
KC and I laughed, and I leaned in and kissed Joshua’s cheek.
“Nothing would make me happier.” I was honest.
Lucian smiled faintly and loosened his tie a little. “I suppose I could get
better at prioritizing. I’m just not ready to admit I’m too old to work.”
Who said anything about that?
“Have you even turned forty-five?” I asked. “Slowing down doesn’t
mean stopping altogether, Lucian.”
“Exactly.” KC tipped his whiskey at me. “Let’s not forget you have a
goddamn doctor telling you to slow down too.”
“All right, all right.” Lucian got a bit defensive, and it was clear he
wanted to change the topic. “Things will get better soon. We have a new
adviser shadowing me—he’ll take over in a couple of months. Let’s move
on.”
I could tell KC was holding back from pushing further; now wasn’t the
time, when they had guests and so on, and I didn’t have that relationship
with Lucian to press the matter—
“At the risk of overstepping my bounds,” Joshua said, clearing his
throat, “I’ll tell you what the chief told me when I was burned out. He said
—it’s about who will take care of me when I’m sick. When I’m old, when I
come home from work. Who will remember me when I’m dead. It sure ain’t
coworkers and clients. They don’t care if I work myself into an early grave.
They won’t remember the extra hours I put in, my sleepless nights, or how
my health deteriorated.”
I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t have that
relationship with Lucian either, yet it didn’t stop him from speaking
candidly about the truths someone needed to hear.
“You wanna give that time, all that effort, to those who love you
instead,” Joshua finished. “To those you love.”
 His words had made an impact. Lucian glanced over at KC, who offered
a sober look in return and grabbed his hand on the table.
I turned back to Joshua and found him watching me.
“That’s what I’ll be doing,” he said quietly.
Jesus. I tightened my grip on his hand and kissed him quickly. He
couldn’t possibly know how much I—
“Master?” Cam called. A beat later, he appeared in the doorway. “Sorry
to disturb, but I can’t reach the extra mixing bowls on top of the cabinet.
Could you help me?”
“Of course, love. I’ll be right there.” Lucian stood up and made his
escape, but just as “go figure, we have a runner” entered my mind, I
watched his steps falter. He had to steady himself by grasping KC’s
shoulder. Alarm shot through me when I saw the look on his face; it was as
if all the blood had drained from it, and his forehead glistened with sweat in
the dimmed spotlight above.
Joshua and I shot up from our chairs at the same time as KC turned in
his seat and tried to pull Lucian down on his lap.
“Baby, sit down,” KC urged.
“Oh my God—Lucian!” Cam ran over, panicked, and I rounded the
table to move Lucian’s chair closer to KC’s. “Lucian, can you hear me? Is
he having a heart attack? Lucian!”
“I’m fine,” Lucian gritted out. “I…I’m…fuck.” He screwed his eyes
shut and clenched his fists, and a second later, I managed to get him to sit
down right next to KC. When Lucian rubbed at his chest, Joshua and I
exchanged a quick look. He took over for me and dropped down to Lucian’s
level, and he and KC tried to figure out Lucian’s symptoms.
“I’m gonna call an ambulance,” I said. My heart pounded as I pulled out
my phone. That was when Gael stormed in, presumably having heard the
commotion, and I was sure my worry mirrored the emotion I saw in his
eyes.
“It’s gonna be okay, Master,” Cam whimpered. “You have to be okay.”
“Steady breaths, Lucian—”
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE 2

Santiago Jones
A month later

I eyed the screen.

Delivery attempt failed; customer unavailable to sign for package.
New delivery attempt tomorrow.
Caleb wasn’t at his job when he’d said he would be. I rubbed my
forehead and switched lanes, and I stepped on the gas.
According to Caleb’s Facebook, he was supposed to be stuck in the
office all day doing work he was “overqualified” for. So I’d sent him a box
of fake flyers for a local restaurant opening.
It was the third time the motherfucker had me on my toes. Twice
because he’d posted old photos as new, and now this. But I couldn’t let my
guard down, ’cause that was when they struck. I didn’t care how many
times someone cried wolf—I would always come running. Because you
never knew.
Maybe this was another coincidence. Caleb had been posting old
pictures on social media for four days now, longer than any other time, so I
couldn’t help but be suspicious.
I drove past the massive traffic jam going out of the city. Heading in at
this hour was painless. Everyone was getting off work and going home to
suburbia. I was going in to meet up with Gael and Dean at Waffled. We
were gonna eat, see a movie, pack a few bags of belongings at Gael’s
place…
 One drawer at a time, I was filling my home with their stuff. Clothes,
toiletries, books, a 3-D printer, more books, even some furniture that
belonged to Dean.
Yeah, focus on that. Focus on Dean and Gael, not Caleb.
But Gael had mentioned that this was Caleb’s MO. He popped in and
out of Gael’s life every couple months, and it’d been that now. Almost two
months had passed.
I scratched my chin and picked up my phone again, and I sent a voice-
to-text to Reese.
“Hey, would you mind checking with your friend about Caleb’s online
activity? Send.”
Another thing that bothered me was the kid’s use of his credit card. I
couldn’t rely on that altogether because he didn’t use it every day. I had no
access to his debit card—and obviously, I wouldn’t know when he used
cash.
Either way, his credit card showed zero activity in the last five days.
Could be because he’d gotten paid recently, of course. He didn’t need to
use his credit card yet. Or…?
Times like these, I missed being a detective. I’d be able to do more. For
one, I’d be able to trace Caleb’s phone. Going private meant saying bye-bye
to all permits and the proper authority to dig deeper. Instead, I had to rely
on friends of friends who operated outside the law. I didn’t even know who
their buddy was. But I trusted River and Reese, so…
I blew out a breath and crossed the river into DC, and I sent another
voice-to-text, this time to Dean.
“Can you get to Gael faster? I have a bad feeling about Caleb. Love
you. Send.”
If I was ruining date night, I was gonna punch myself.
Dean had warned me I could be overprotective at times. Then again,
he’d followed that statement with, “Unfortunately, so can I, and I don’t see
that stopping.”

Dean Aavik
Can you get to Gael faster I have a bad feeling about Caleb love you.
Voice-to-text was…not a favorite of mine.
I picked up the pace and called him.
He answered right away. “Look, I could be overanalyzing shit again, but
it’s one too many coincidences for my comfort. Old photos posted as new,
he’s not at work when he claimed he would be, and he hasn’t used his credit
card in almost five days. I’m waiting to hear back from Reese too.”
I knew about the photos and the credit card, but Caleb’s absence from
work was news to me. “I’ll be at Waffled in five minutes,” I told him.
“Are you walking or driving?”
“Walking.” The sun was shining, and temperatures were finally
reaching seventy most days. I walked. “Did you check Gael’s
surveillance?”
“Before I left the house,” he muttered. “We shouldn’t have fucking
spent the night apart.”
No, that was making less and less sense, though not for Caleb reasons.
Thankfully, it was only once or twice a week when Gael and I had to work
early. Sometimes, we slept at my place then, but it was harder for Joshua to
bring his own work. Unless he was fixating on a single client, he needed
access to his home study.
“Goddammit! Now I get stuck in traffic?” Joshua growled.
Also a good reason to walk.
“I can almost see Waffled up ahead. I’ll be there in a minute or two,” I
promised. “Let’s not freak out until we have to, okay?” How fitting that I
heard sirens in the background.
He sighed heavily. “Fine—you’re right. Depending on when I get out of
this fucking mess, I should be in Georgetown in ten, but…I don’t know, it
looks like an accident up ahead, and an ambulance just drove past.”
No need to rush. My own worry was settling down before it could truly
rise up, because now I definitely saw Waffled on its side street, so I would
be there in a matter of seconds. I looked both ways and crossed the main
street in between surges of traffic.
“I’m there now, darling. I can see him behind the counter. I’ll talk to
you soon, okay?”
“Okay, good. Thanks, baby. I love you.”
I smiled to myself. “I love you too.” I pocketed my phone and opened
the door to Waffled, only to come face-to-face with the other man I’d fallen
hopelessly in love with.
He lit up at the sight of me. “Hi! How was work today?”
“Hello, sweetheart. It was fine—nothing fun to report, actually.” I
walked past the line and caught up to him by the register, and we met
halfway for a quick kiss. “Joshua will be here soon. He’s stuck in traffic.”
“Okay, do you want me to get started on your waffle?”
“Oh, absolutely. I ate a boring salad for lunch, so I’m ready for the good
stuff.”
He giggled. “Gosh—same here. I swear it had, like, zero calories. Can I
take your briefcase?”
I handed it to him. “Thank you, dear. I’ll go have a seat at our table.”
The place wasn’t too packed at this hour, though our now-permanently
reserved table often came in handy. When Joshua and I stopped by, Gael put
out the reserved sign in advance before we got here.
Caleb was clearly not here, so I had a seat and figured I could catch up
on some messages and emails. I started by replying to Walker’s text. I had
to check in on Lucian later as well.
We can’t on Friday. We’ve taken the day off to visit Gettysburg. What
about Sunday?
It was so much easier to meet up in the middle of the week.
Partly because I was possessive of my weekends with Gael and Joshua.
If we weren’t at Mclean, we were exploring our interests at museums,
taking it easy at home, or off on an overnight adventure.

Gael Grimes

I bit my lip and concentrated as I drizzled a hot fudge heart over Daddy’s
caramel waffle. This month’s flavor! It was crazy popular. Both my Daddies
loved it too. There. Perfect. A good sampler that Dean could munch on until
Santiago arrived.
I carried his plate and a cup of coffee over to his table. “Here you go,
Sir. Caramel waffle with caramel ice cream, hot fudge, and bacon dust.”
He’d been so skeptical of the bacon dust, but I’d sure won him over! It
was fine as flour, almost, and pure salty bacon goodness.
 “You know how to seduce me, my love. Thank you.” He unwrapped his
utensils from the napkin. “When Daddy gets here, we’ll tell him I only ate a
half.”
“Yes, Sir,” I snickered. “I’m gonna go clear my station, take out the
trash, and then I’m pretty much done.”
He paused with his fork in midair and glanced up at me. “Okay. I’ll be
keeping an eye on you.”
I laughed. He could totally do that.
I returned to the other side of the counter and helped Kaley and Des
shorten the line a bit, and then I did some cleanup around the waffle maker,
wiped down the counter, and emptied the bins. I felt like I was walking on
air the whole time! It couldn’t be helped. Ever since we’d exchanged I-
love-yous a couple weeks ago, I’d been filled with a new sense of purpose.
More than that, a concrete belief in us.
I huffed a breath and lugged the big garbage bags through the back
room and out into the alley.
Oh gross, it reeked here. I made a mental note to talk to the other two
restaurant owners who shared the alley with me. Now that it was spring—
even worse when summer arrived later—it was vital that we hosed down
the cobblestones every day. Otherwise, we’d have a rat problem on our
hands in a matter of days.
I trudged over to the dumpsters and—
“Hi, babe.”
I froze.
“Why are you wearing that, babe? That’s hilarious—it’s way too small
for you.”
“Mmm, you should show me some appreciation for giving you a
makeover. Maybe a blow job, huh?”
I screwed my eyes shut and shoved Santiago and Dean to the forefront
of my mind, where they told me things that never made me feel bad about
myself. They wanted me to be happy, they wanted what was best for me,
they helped me on my terms, they loved me.
Fucking crap shit, he was back.
I dropped the garbage bag and turned around, just to see another
freaking garbage bag.
I’m not scared. I refuse to be afraid of you. You don’t have that hold on
me anymore. Loser.
 He hadn’t changed much. He still used too much product in his hair, he
still tried to cover acne scars with foundation, and his eyes seemingly
always flashed with condescension.
It struck me, though, that I’d reacted more to his online presence last
time than right now when he was standing literally six feet away from me.
He’d reached out with a message that’d sent cold chills down my spine,
and I’d spiraled into a sea of self-loathing and anxiety. Now…I just stared
at him. I wondered how the heck I’d ever thought I’d loved him. I hadn’t
known what love was.
I wasn’t totally immune to my old discomforts, though. My stomach
tightened with unease, and I hated that he was here.
“Have you missed me?” He smiled and took a step forward.
I scrunched my nose and stepped back. “I took you for a stalkery
asshole who couldn’t stand being rejected, but I never took you for stupid.
No, I haven’t freaking missed you. I moved to the other side of the country
to get away from you, in case that wasn’t clear.”
Something darkened in his eyes, and his jaw ticked with tension. “I
know you’ve been fucking around with people. That professor, right? Dean
Aavik? And the other one—I don’t know his name, but he looks like a cop.
He was onto me.”
I wasn’t going to confirm or deny crap to this nutbag. Especially not
when it concerned Dean, who could face backlash if the college somehow
thought he’d gotten involved with a student. It was best to shift the attention
away from him altogether.
“You forgot a few.” I scratched my nose.
I was getting to him. His smarmy amusement was slipping off his face,
revealing another ounce of anger.
“You’re such an ungrateful fucking pig,” he chuckled humorlessly.
I flinched and swallowed, then shook my head. Nope, I was not letting
him get to me. Fuck him! “What does that say about you?” I retorted.
“You’re the one who can’t get enough of me. Despite a fucking restraining
order, you’re here to harass me.”
I’d given him so much power, and I was probably going to be pissed at
myself for that later. He’d gotten off on my fear. He’d been happy when I’d
been miserable.
No fucking more.
 Dean Aavik

I smirked faintly at the sight of Joshua’s name on the display, and I

answered the call. “How’s the traffic jam?”
“Where’s Gael?” His tone set me on edge.
“He just took the garbage out—about four seconds ago,” I replied,
wiping my mouth with the napkin. “I thought I’d give him fifteen seconds
before I checked in on him.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration. I didn’t want him alone.
“Caleb’s in town. His last location was pinged two hundred feet away
from Waffled.” Joshua rushed out the words, and just like that, I was on my
feet and moving toward the back of the establishment. “I already called the
police, and one of my old buddies is on his way. I’ll be there in two
minutes.”
Okay, okay—we’d get Gael upstairs, and he’d sit tight until we’d found
Caleb.
“I’m on it.” I ignored Katy’s confused look—or Kaley? I didn’t quite
remember. And I ran back toward the door that led to the alley.
The door was open maybe an inch or two, and just as I hung up the
phone, I heard an unfamiliar voice say, “I know you’ve been fucking around
with people. That professor, right? Dean Aavik? And the other one—I don’t
know his name, but he looks like a cop. He was onto me.”
Like a flip of a switch, I was transported back in time to intense Navy
drills where we shut off our emotions in order to respond faster. The rage
was put on a tight leash, and I was about to shove the door open when I
heard Gael’s reply.
“You forgot a few.”
That stopped me in my tracks, and I instantly lowered my hand.
My boy said fucking what?
That wasn’t our Gael.
Act faster, act faster.
I swallowed dryly and stepped back, and then I called Joshua as my
head swam with strategies and exit points. The alley—that was Caleb’s only
way in and out, and we couldn’t let him get away.
 “Almost there,” Joshua said.
“He’s here,” I replied quickly. “Drive around the back and head up the
alley.” I ended the call before he could prattle off any questions; I didn’t
have time for that. I had to get back to the door, and I was there right on
time, it seemed. Caleb was getting angry.
“…ungrateful fucking pig.”
I clenched my jaw, one hand on the door—
“What does that say about you?” Gael shot back. “You’re the one who
can’t get enough of me. Despite a fucking restraining order, you’re here to
harass me.”
Fucking hell, boy, don’t provoke him.
I could shower him with hugs and pride later, but what he didn’t
know… Every stalker had a limit. Every lowlife had a trigger switch, and
once that was flipped, stalking and harassment turned into much more.
Joshua had aired his thoughts weeks ago, about how Caleb had escalated his
stalking merely by coming all the way to DC—and to top it off, he’d
discovered that Gael was seeing at least one man here. Now he was back,
and that meant something. He wasn’t here to just harass Gael. He was here
to get even somehow.
I held my breath and waited for Caleb’s response.
I didn’t get one; I just heard the crunch of feet moving, and I’d had it. I
pushed the door open, causing it to slam against the wall, and I sprinted
forward as Caleb charged at Gael.
“You worthless piece of—”
I grabbed on to Caleb’s shoulders from behind, spun him around, and
slammed him up against the wall. “Let’s continue that—you little piece of
shit,” I growled.
“Dean!”
“Get off me, you old fuck!” Caleb tried to shove me away, but all I did
was hike my arm higher up, effectively jamming it against his throat. “This
is him, isn’t it, Gael? Fucking—” He choked, and when he grabbed at my
arm, I fisted his hair and spun him around once more, pressing him up the
wall with the side of his face scratching against the painted concrete. “Ow!
Let go of me!”
Goddammit, he’d gotten me in the hip of all places. Pain flared up my
side, and I planted one hand against his head and the other digging into his
spine. I released a harsh breath, relieved when I finally heard sirens in the
distance. If it wasn’t the police coming our way, at the very least Joshua
would be here soon.
Gael came up to me, visibly shell-shocked. “Tell me what to do—
should I c-call the police?”
“They’re already on their way.” I tried to control my breathing and eyed
my boy. To his credit, Caleb was attempting to smack my hands away, but
the angle didn’t offer him any advantages. “Search through his pockets.”
Gael was shaky and frightened, but he went straight to it.
Caleb cursed and thrashed, but the pain in his back, not to mention the
side of his face, kept him in position.
“Oh my gosh,” Gael breathed out. He pulled out a knife, and that
worked for me.
“Extend the blade and toss it aside,” I instructed. “We both saw him try
to attack you with that, didn’t we?” I gave him a pointed look.
He stared up at me, eyes wide. “Um. Y-yeah. Yeah.”
Longer sentence, baby. We want him locked up for once.
“You’re full of shit!” Caleb gritted out.
I shot a look over my shoulder. No outdoor surveillance around. Both
doors to the neighboring restaurants were shut properly, and the door to
Waffled had been shut in the mayhem too. Which meant we were actually
locked out, but no matter.
“See if you can find his phone,” I told Gael next.
He swallowed hard and unfolded the knife before throwing it on the
ground, and then he located Caleb’s phone in his left jeans pocket.
“I need to see the lock screen,” I said.
With shaky fingers, he brought the phone to life, and I searched the top
bar, just to make sure he wasn’t recording what was transpiring. One could
never be too careful.
“Toss it aside too,” I told him. “And grab his wallet.”
Nothing wrong with disarming an attacker and throwing away his
belongings where he couldn’t reach them. Plus, we didn’t have to explain
Gael’s fingerprints.
“He charged at you with the knife, baby,” I reminded him.
“Yeah—I won’t forget,” he promised. “Did he do something else?”
“You’re not fucking serious, Gael,” Caleb spat.
“I got a restraining order that says otherwise,” Gael snapped at Caleb.
“Suit yourself, loser.”
 The light at the end of the alley some fifty feet away was suddenly
blocked by a car turning in, and I saw Joshua’s truck following closely
behind. Thank fuck, I was losing my strength.
“It might help our case if you’re upset, peach,” I grunted.
“Got it.” Gael nodded jerkily, then looked back toward the police car as
well as Joshua’s truck. But before he did anything or rushed at Joshua, he
spun back on Caleb and glared up at him. “If I gave a flying fuck about you,
I’d thank you. Because it’s your fault I felt the need to hide—and that’s how
I met two amazing men. But now I see you for what you are, a sorry excuse
for a guy who can’t let go. It’s pathetic.” He huffed and turned on his heel,
then took off in a run toward Joshua. “Santiago! Help us—Caleb tried to
attack us! Officer, he was armed, but I got the knife away from him when
Dean grabbed him. Please help us!”
I stifled my smile and faced Caleb.
“Enjoy your flight back to San Francisco,” I said quietly. “We’ll take
care of Gael. We’ll keep him happy.”
He cursed and tried a final time to get free, but he was out of time. Two
officers ran over, along with Joshua.
“They’re lying!” he shouted. “I didn’t attack! I didn’t do anything!”
Strong defense from someone who was violating his restraining order
for the umpteenth time while carrying a knife.

Santiago Jones

“You know what I remember? I remember you saying you were never
gonna set foot in here again.”
I snorted a laugh and slapped my hand to his. “All right, all right—I
guess I miscalculated. See you around, buddy.”
“Yeah, get outta here, Detective.” He laughed and headed back to work.
And I walked out of the station to find Dean and Gael waiting on the
sidewalk.
Jesus Christ, what a fucking night.
It’d gotten dark, I was hungry, I was furious, I’d managed to curse
myself for being late about a dozen times already, I was worried, and…fuck.
I blew out a breath and draped my arms around them both.
I was also relieved. There wasn’t a chance in hell Caleb would escape
serving actual time now.
“Are you two gonna tell me the truth about the goddamn pocketknife?”
I asked them.
’Cause I wasn’t born yesterday. Their stories had been solid throughout
our visit to the station, but I’d seen a look or two. After Dean had given his
testimony and it’d been Gael’s turn, I’d noticed something between them.
But most of all, my suspicion had been triggered because Dean and I had
discussed this. We’d talked about our options of pinning more shit on
Caleb. And honestly? If Gael had truly been charged at by Caleb with a
knife, our boy would be more upset. A weapon changed things for a victim.
“How about over waffles?” Gael suggested.
Dean frowned. “But it’s closed.”
Gael giggled. “Silly Daddy, I’m the boss!”
I grinned. “You hear that, honey? Our boy’s the boss.”
Dean chuckled. “I’ll allow it just this once.”

“And then he said—what was it you said, peach?” Dean stabbed another
piece of waffle. “Oh! ‘You forgot a few.’”
I cracked up and pressed a kiss to Gael’s temple. My God, he wasn’t
leaving my side for a while. This Daddy was fucking traumatized. But
spending a couple hours alone with Dean and Gael at Waffled, long past
closing time, with a table filled with waffles, toppings, and coffee, was a
good start.
“I wasn’t trying to provoke him, I swear!” Gael defended, laughing. “I
was just so fed up with his bullcrap, and I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was like,
I will never freaking hide again.”
“You know who was afraid?” I asked and reached for my coffee cup.
“Me. On the way over—Christ. When Dean called and said Caleb was here
—and you fucking hung up on me.” I grabbed a piece of plain waffle and
tossed it at Dean. “You realize I lost ten years of my damn life there?”
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not waste the food.” He found the piece on his lap
and stuck it in his mouth. “Well, I didn’t have time for your questions—I
had to get to Gael and save the day. Let an old fuck feel good about that.”
Gael snorted softly. “That’s what Caleb called him,” he explained.
Ah.
I reached across the table and pinched his cheek. “You’re our old fuck,
and we love you.”
“We sure do!” Gael beamed. “Our hero.”
Absolutely.
Dean sat a little straighter and adjusted the napkin he’d tucked into his
shirt. “It’s okay if you wish to use that term.”
Yeah, no doubt. He was too funny. How he managed to be endearing, I
didn’t know. I mean, he had the charisma, the sexy experience, the dark
looks of promise, and the authority. He oozed quiet confidence and
strength. But every now and then, usually when food was involved, he
could get huffy and petulant and…just plain cute.
I hugged Gael to me, not for the first time tonight, and pressed my lips
to his hair. This one—I had a feeling he would need to process what’d
happened today, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it hit him in bursts. He was
still riding a wave of relief, and who could blame him.
Dean and I would be here every step of the way.
Our boy was strong as fuck, and he’d come so far.
Like he’d said, he was never going to freaking hide again.

OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE 3

Gael Grimes
Another few months later

“You ruined my life, you fat pig!”

“You ruined it yourself, asshole!” I yelled, boiling with anger. “You’re
so pathetic!”
“Baby… Gael, wake up.”
I snarled and pushed away the arm covering me, and I… I blinked, my
heart beating too fast, and I sat up. In bed. Oh crap, another nightmare.
Daddy flicked on the light, and Master sat up next to me and rubbed my
back.
“Fuck.” I blew out a breath and scrubbed at my face.
Dean squeezed me to him but said nothing, and it was just as well.
Progress was progress, and progress was slow sometimes. Gosh fucking
darn it. Deep breaths. I breathed him in and reminded myself I’d come far
on yet another part of the journey of pushing Caleb out of my life. My fear
was gone. These days, the nightmares just pissed me off. And, like, I was
pissed off in the nightmares too. Never afraid. Never hiding. Never backing
down.
Santiago had warned me the bad dreams might come back now for a
while since we’d just learned Caleb had received his sentence. Three years
in prison. After a quite lengthy trial—because the douchebag’s parents had
money.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled.
 Daddy kissed my hair and leaned against me and Master. “You’re more
than okay, baby. We’re so proud of you.”
“Mm.” Master squeezed me a bit more, and I let out a long breath. “But
in case that’s not clear, I think we should spoil him a bit tomorrow.”
A giggle burst out; I couldn’t help it. They already spoiled me so much!
“Excellent idea,” Daddy agreed.
They pulled me back down against the pillows and cocooned me the
way I preferred, and I yawned and stretched out between them. Exhaustion
crept back in, killing the last of my anger, and the next breath I let out was
full of contentment.
“You ready to get more sleep, peach?” Master murmured. “Big day
tomorrow.”
I nodded against his chest and slipped my leg between his. Meanwhile,
Daddy cuddled up behind me and rubbed my thigh. This is the stuff.
Another deep breath. A calm washed over me, and I yawned again. Caleb
was rotting in prison, and I was cozying it up with my Daddies, and we had
a big day tomorrow.

“Time to wake up, little one.”

Oh…Daddy was waking me up?
I groaned into my pillow and squirmed around, effectively getting
myself twisted in the duvet. I reached out blindly, only to come up with
nothing. No one was next to me! I scowled and cracked my eyes open,
disoriented as all heck.
Daddy was putting on his clothes and smirking at me.
“You’re up early,” I said. I sat up and yawned, and I was sure my hair
pointed in every direction.
“When I suggested we sleep in yesterday, you and Daddy looked at me
like I was an alien,” he responded. “So, here I am, at the crack of dawn…”
Just in time for Master to emerge from the bathroom!
I snickered and climbed out of the bed. “It’s hardly dawn.” One glance
at Daddy’s watch on the nightstand told me it was past eight!
“Are you complaining about sleep again, darling?” Dean smooched
Daddy’s cheek and tucked his shirt into his pants.
 Daddy huffed and reached for his wallet. “I’m not gonna get into this
with you two.”
Master and I exchanged a grin, and then I hurried to get ready. Daddy
had already put out my clothes, so I jumped into a pair of khaki shorts and
shrugged on my new T-shirt we’d bought yesterday.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I was ready to go!
I was so excited.
We left the hotel room together, and the cobblestone streets of Verdun
greeted us outside. So did the sun and the late-summer heat. Freaking
sweet! We’d only been in France three days, and we’d already found a new
favorite café for our breakfast feast. They served the best croissants ever!
Talk about nightmare forgotten.
I was in heaven.
Today, we were visiting the Overlord Museum, where I estimated we’d
be all day. Because I’d seen pictures and read about the museum, so I knew
it was a top-notch attraction. Also, Professor Daddy had been there before,
and he’d said it was the best WWI museum out there. So yeah.
I skipped the last bit to the corner café, then glanced back at my
Daddies. So stinking cute—they were holding hands, and Santiago was
totally thawing out from his morning grumpiness.
“Come onnnn. We gots to carb up for our day at the museum!” I called.
“Also, Daddy, did you bring the allowances I saved up? I’m gonna buy the
whole gift shop!”
“For the third time, I have your savings, baby,” Santiago chuckled.
“We’re ready to carry all the books you’re gonna buy.”
Uhh, it wasn’t just books. I ticked each item off my fingers. “And pins
and stickers and a map and a puzzle—I already checked online. They have
everything.”
Master reached me first and draped an arm around me. “Then we
definitely need to carb up. Let’s eat, my little historian.”
“Is that with or without a comma?” I giggled.
He rumbled a sexy laugh and ushered me into the café. “First with, then
without when we get back to the hotel.”
Deal!
Gael, Santiago, and Dean will return throughout the series.
More information on the next page.

OceanofPDF.com
 NEXT UP IN THE GAME SERIES

Before we dig into Parts of Us, the next book in the series, which follows
Cam, Lucian, KC, and Noa, meet Parker Jacobson and Wyatt Abrams in
Daddy Christmas!
Parker happens to be the cousin of Cameron in the Game Series, and
though Daddy Christmas is completely standalone, you can expect
crossovers.

Daddy Christmas
Standalone | Holiday Romance | Age gap | Comedy | Daddykink

The annual holiday office party is the one occasion my silver fox boss isn’t
his rigid, uptight self—not to mention completely liberated of a sense of
humor. For a single, magical evening, he replaces Armani with a Santa suit
and grabs a couple drinks with his employees. He might even chuckle once
or twice!
Through no fault of my own, I end up half-naked and embarrassingly drunk
on candy cane Jell-O shots. I plant my sweet rear on his lap, call him
Daddy Christmas, tell him I’ve been a good boy, and ask for a very specific
gift.
So I’m pretty sure I’m about to get fired.

Excerpt

I cleared my throat to get his attention. “Mr. Abrams?”

 He stopped typing on his computer and peered at me over the rim of his
glasses.
“I have a delivery for you from Mr. Williams on the ground floor,” I
said. “Suravi’s not here, but I can leave it on her desk if you’d prefer.”
He dismissed that and motioned for me to come forward.
I could make some serious strides on my Fitbit in his office, it was that
big.
“It sounds like a Christmas gift, sir,” I commented as I handed him the
parcels.
“It makes sounds?” He wasn’t pleased. “Then please stay here while I
open it so I can decide whether or not to send it back with you.”
Hey. Rude. “Maybe Santa can replace it with a lump of coal.”
“Perhaps,” was his only reaction.
While he carefully tore the wrapping, I inspected his boring desk. I
mean, the desk itself was nice, probably some expensive mahogany or oak
thing, but he had nothing personal on there. No photos, no knickknacks. I
knew he was unmarried and had no kids, but he had several nieces and
nephews.
“It’s a nice rug you have here,” I offered. “I kinda wanna do cartwheels
on it.” Or breakdance all over it.
He paused his unwrapping and glanced up at me. “You don’t have to fill
the silence.”
“No, I know, I do that voluntarily.”
“That’s a shame,” he muttered and returned to his gift.
I suppressed a sigh and stuck my hands down the pockets of my slacks.
The only thing that was a crying shame was this funsucker of a man. I
could count my interactions with him on one hand—in the four years I’d
been here—and they’d all required some serious aftercare to brighten my
mood again.
Underneath the plain wrapping paper was a bottle of whiskey or Scotch,
and he held it up to read the tag strapped to its neck.
“This is a nice bourbon,” he commented. “I’m sure my uncle will enjoy
it.”
“Sir?”
“It’s addressed to Clarke Abrams, my uncle.” He set the bottle aside,
along with the other parcel, and I cursed to myself. “I assume this package
is for him too. I’ll be at corporate tomorrow and can deliver them to him.”
 Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Very few things embarrassed me, but this kind of mistake definitely did.
My collar felt tight, and my ears started burning.
“I’m so sorry, sir, that’s my mistake,” I managed to say. “Mr. Williams
told me to personally deliver it to Mr. Abrams at corporate, and I just
assumed he meant you—and you’re here on Wednesdays, so… I’m sorry.
This isn’t actually my job, so you don’t have to worry about this happening
again. I’ll be back at my desk as soon as the servers—”
“Please, for the love of God, stop rambling.” Mr. Abrams leaned back in
his seat. I swallowed uncomfortably. He observed me. “If Mr. Williams
gave you the instructions, your assumption feels…foolish.”
“Yep. Well aware. It’s been a long week.” Fuck, let me get out of here,
please.
“It’s Wednesday.”
“So people keep telling me.” I gestured to the packages. “May I have
them back? I need to go downtown before your uncle leaves for the day.”
“He won’t get them regardless.” He checked his watch. “He leaves right
after the breakfast meeting on the days my aunt gets dialysis.”
That was…sweet, I supposed. Clarke Abrams was in his seventies, if I
wasn’t mistaken. It probably wouldn’t be that many years before he handed
over the corporation to two of his sons and the nephew in front of me.
I suddenly had an idea. “You’re going to corporate tomorrow.”
“As I mentioned.”
“And you live in Santa Monica, right?”
His forehead creased. “I do.”
“So you’re passing Culver City on the way,” I said. “We can carpool.
Pick me up outside the office tomorrow, and that way I can follow Mr.
Williams’s order and deliver the packages to Mr. Abrams myself. What do
you say?”
“I was unaware that you were capable of following orders.”
“Hey.” I put my hands on my hips, getting a tad irritated. I knew I’d
fucked up. How long did I have to suffer? “You’ve never complained about
my work before. Please cut me some slack.”
He frowned at me. He was good at that. “I don’t even know who you
are, what your name is, or what it is that you do here.”
“My name is Parker Jacobson, and I’m a mildly insulted graphic
designer,” I replied. “I designed your business cards among other things.”
 Such as this year’s gift to the employees from corporate.
“I see.” He leaned forward and picked up one of his business cards from
the little holder. “Well, Parker Jacobson, it’s not normal behavior to ask
your boss for a ride.”
My ears felt hot again. The man made me feel like Bambi on ice, which
I’d thought was already my default setting in life. I usually tumbled around
and hoped for the best. And I knew I wasn’t always normal. Most people
had a little voice in the back of their head that let them know what was okay
to say out loud. Well, that voice fell out and died when my mom dropped
me as a baby.
“Excuse me for trying to save the planet,” I fibbed. “We’re in a global
climate crisis, you know.”

Daddy Christmas
Standalone | Holiday Romance | Age gap | Comedy | Daddykink

Parts of Us
The Game Series | Doll Parts Sequel | M/s | MMMM | Daddykink |
Hurt/Comfort

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 MORE FROM CARA

Cara freely admits she’s addicted to revisiting the men and women who
yammer in her head, and several of her characters cross over in other titles.
If you enjoyed this book, you might like the following.

A Tenley Tradition
River/Reese/Shay | Taboo Themes | Holiday Romance

It's been twenty years since River surprised Reese with a Christmas
morning for just the two of them in The Air That I Breathe. Some traditions
are meant to last forever, sort of like the relationship the twins have formed
with Shay. It's their first Christmas together as a triad, and it's a morning to
remember.

Rogue Launch
The Renegades #1 | Romantic Suspense | Enemies to Lovers | Action | MM

It was supposed to be an evening of music, pool fun, barbecue, and

moving in to his new home. Elliott Jones had invited his family and friends
from out of town to celebrate yet another fresh start in life—and he refused
to dwell on old regrets. But instead, after twenty years of working as a
private military contractor in some of the most hostile territories on the
planet, an attack from an enemy on his home turf catapulted Elliott and his
friends straight into a nightmare of agony, rage, and determination. His
little niece had been kidnapped, and he would stop at nothing to bring her
home again. Even if he had to team up with his absolute biggest regret, Joel
Hayward, his niece’s stepdad.

Check out Cara’s entire collection at www.caradeewrites.com, and don’t

forget to sign up for her newsletter so you don’t miss any new releases,
updates on book signings, free outtakes, giveaways, and much more.

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 ABOUT CARA

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler.
In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular.
The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary
for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just
making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.
There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a
topic or two to research thoroughly.
Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something
new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life,
and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions,
history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.
I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room
for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters
will never be perfect.
Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.
I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting,
twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for
hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.
~Cara.

Get social with Cara

www.caradeewrites.com
www.camassiacove.com
Facebook: @caradeewrites
Twitter: @caradeewrites
Instagram: @caradeewrites

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