Bad Behavior (Bad in Baltimore) (20 page)

C
hapter Sixteen

In the doorway of his apartment, Beach bent down to give Jez a good rub behind the ears in goodbye before standing to offer a different sort of rub to her human. He wished he hadn’t conceded a pair of boxers and a shirt to Clayton’s modesty, or the contact would have been far more interesting.

When Beach reached for Tai’s face to kiss him, Tai caught Beach’s hands before they landed on his jaw, lacing their fingers together, arms outstretched.

“I’m not so easily had for an ear rub,” Tai murmured, his gaze flicking over Beach’s shoulder to where Clayton puttered around the kitchen like some demented duenna.

“That’s because you’ve never had one of mine. Tell him, Jez.”

At the mention of her name, she bumped their legs.

“Sit.”

Beach knew that was aimed at the dog, but the strong voice made him want to crawl right inside of the man in front of him.

“And you behave.” Tai’s demand rumbled along Beach’s bones.

Beach adopted a hypnotized monotone. “Yessir.” He didn’t know the last time he’d felt this kind of happy, free. Before the trip off the bridge he still couldn’t remember, and possibly before that.

Tai stared down. “Call for your PT appointment. And call your uncle.”

Not even the reminder of that duty could chase away the feeling that kept making Beach smile, that made a laugh threaten to burst out of his throat for no reason than that it felt so damned good.

“Sore anywhere?” Tai breathed the words close to Beach’s ear.

“Some beard burn.” Beach grinned, then leaned away so Tai could see the accompanying wink.

“Sorry about this.” Tai swung one pair of their linked hands between them and lifted Beach’s bruised wrist for a delicate kiss.

“Didn’t mind at the time.” Though, when Beach had noticed the dark imprints as he dressed, he’d opted for something with long sleeves.

Tai brought the opposite wrist to his mouth. The soft pressure from his lips and the trace of his tongue made Beach shiver, and not only because of the tingle on an overlooked erogenous zone. Tai was hard enough, strong enough to make those marks, and gentle enough to soothe them the next day. Like when he’d been…spanking Beach.

“Hmm.” Tai made the skin vibrate, prickle under the hair of his beard. “If you don’t want to find out how long two minutes can be…” he released Beach’s hand, stepped back and clipped the leash to Jez’s collar, “…you won’t forget to make those phone calls.”

He was gone, but Beach’s good mood wasn’t. Even with the face Clayton pulled as the door closed behind Tai.

“Acts god-awfully like a policeman.”

“No. Gavin’s the one dating a cop.”

Clayton’s gape put fresh-caught carp to shame. “Montgomery?”

“That’s the one.”

“Something in the water?”

Beach turned away from the fridge. “What?”

“Really? Him? That’s your type?”

“I thought we established I don’t have a type. I enjoy variety.”

“Like in having a Dominant. Do y’all get in the leather stuff for that?”

God bless Internet search engines. But Clayton’s question only provoked a smile and a shrug, unlike the discomfort from Gavin’s overbearing scrutiny. Clayton’s curiosity came across as if Beach had ordered something bizarre in a restaurant that Clayton was trying to be brave enough to try.

“Costumes are optional.”

“But he—ah—bosses you around?” Clayton tugged on an ear.

“With my permission.”

“So just theatrical, then.” Clayton nodded, looking as satisfied as if someone had offered to pick up the tab. Again.

It was easier to let him think it. Easier to think of it that way himself. What happened between Beach and Tai was like a play. Unscripted, but still for pretend. Except when it was happening, Beach wasn’t faking giving up everything because Tai asked him. And feeling like this now. Like he’d thrown all the ballast overboard and was riding so high in the water he could fly. This was real. It wasn’t alcohol or some other chemical shift in his brain. Hell, he hadn’t even had coffee.

“Well then.” Clayton slung his ass onto one of the barstools as if he’d been having a tough time standing and thinking at the same time. “Meant to tell you last night. Talked to Iris.”

“Oh?” Beach tried not to spook him. He’d heard from a cousin about an Earnshaw who had stopped by for a drink and didn’t leave for three years.

“Yeah. Calmed down some. So, figure to shove off today. ’Bout eleven.”

Beach nodded and concealed his relief in a big glass of orange juice.

“Unless, that is…?”

Beach would have been happy to supply Clayton with the rest of his sentence and an answer, but didn’t have any idea where it was headed. He put down his glass and opened his hands in encouragement.

“You need the company?”

“Not at all.” Damn, he’d said that a little fast for civility. In compensation, and to ensure a swift departure, he added, “It’s fine. I’m fine. Thank you, though. I can drop you by the marina.”

D
own at the Harbor Lights Marina, the thick summer heat cooked the familiar brackish and oily reek of the water into something powerful, with a side of fishiness that had Tai wrinkling his nose. David was exactly where his text had said he was, Dock G, Slip 17, though Tai wondered how David managed to keep his balance walking with a cane on the bobbing slats of wood. But he was doing fine. Looking fine. Every bit of him glowing in the solid, hot noon sun bouncing off the water.

“So he’s gone?” Tai asked as he got closer, wishing he could lose the rest of the smells in a deep breath of David’s neck.

David pointed at a shining spot dancing along with other shining spots out in the harbor, then placed a hand over his heart to clutch his shirt and sighed in exaggerated relief. “It was touch and go for a bit. Had to send him for some Dutch courage in the lounge over there.” He nodded at the hotel and bar that lent their names to the wharf.

Tai gripped the dock post against a blast of anger. “And then you sent him out driving a boat?”

David went still. Not that he’d been fidgeting. But the energy that had seemed to bounce off him like the July heat shrank down. As Tai blinked in the too-bright light, he got an afterimage against his lids, a negative imprint of the man in front of him, dark and light in the wrong places.

“I didn’t put a gun to his head. He had a drink. I didn’t. You have a problem with that, call the harbor police.” David turned and climbed down into the boat in Slip 17, the
Fancy Nancy
according to the cursive across her stern.

Overheated fiberglass added a plastic smell to the rest of the noxious scents as Tai followed, eyes squeezed to slits as the light bounced off all the white surfaces of David’s boat. Blinded or not, Tai found David easily. Not a lot of space to run on thirty-five feet of deck. He was in the cockpit, where it was shaded but oven-hot and close, his back against the wheel, legs and arms crossed.

“Doesn’t much seem like you passed me off to another officer.” In that instant, David’s drawl could have put Clayton’s to shame. “What with you checking up on me from work.”

“I did. I wasn’t.” Tai snapped his jaw shut. Defending his actions was an entirely unfamiliar feeling, and he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself by sputtering.

“So this is the other kind of checking up on me?” David’s stare was challenging. Not by being bold, but in that half-lidded indolence he’d perfected that made Tai itch to give that almost pouting mouth something better to do.

“What’s the penalty for buying a friend lunch and watching him have a drink? Dunk me in the harbor? How long do I hold my breath?” David spun around and gripped the wheel, staring out over the bow. All that faked laziness was gone, his whole body drawn up tight enough to shatter. “I fucking hate this.”

No air. God, it was stifling. And then David yanked away what little oxygen there was. Lightheaded, Tai latched on to the back of the captain’s chair before his knees buckled. Every time he thought he had something real to hold, it slipped through his fingers because he’d tightened his grip.

David went on, his voice as lifeless as the air. “He’s going back to a life duller than an endless economics lecture, and I still want to trade places with him. I’m trapped here. The only time I don’t feel like I’m suffocating is when I’m with you.” He spun around, and his eyes widened, like he didn’t expect Tai to be that close. There was no place left for David to back up, and Tai wasn’t moving. “And then you come around and make me feel like shit for making sure we had the place to ourselves.” David shoved past him.

Tai almost let him go. Then his hands shot out. Wrapped around David’s biceps. Forced him to stay. “To use your own words, I didn’t put a gun to your head. But hey, middle age is high time to grow up and show some responsibility.”

“Fuck. You.” David used his forearms to break Tai’s hold and then shoved him away. “Who the hell are you to come preach about being responsible? You’re all for it when it’s something you can slap a proud label on, my dog, my kid, but when the law might keep your dick out of someone on probation, that one’s flexible.”

“You came to me.”

“Damned right I did. I’m not the one spouting moral judgments like I’ve got all the answers. I know it’s all Tai’s road or no road with you, and I’m fine with that. Hell, I had no idea how fine I would be with that.” David paused for breath and rocked on his feet. The boat shifted underfoot, reminding Tai they weren’t on solid ground, and out at Slip 17, land was a good fifty yards away.

David huffed out a sigh. “We’re clear on the me liking you telling me what to do. More than just in bed. But I also like being me. And I simply don’t see me ever measuring up to your ideal of responsibility and good judgment.”

Tai put out an arm as a barrier when David headed for the stern and the dock again. “I didn’t say you had to.”

“Yes, you did.” David made a noisy exhale, like Jez would if she were shaking her head. “But let’s forget it.” He peered out the side window. “It’s hot, huh? Think it’s going to storm later. I can feel it in my leg.”

This was completely different from his deliberate provocation last night. No hint of wanting Tai to take control, but David was definitely asking for something. Tai dug through the load of words David had dumped between them before scurrying away.

“David, stop.”

“What for?”

Tai lunged, gut instinct making him reach for David, to stop him, force him to listen. But Tai’s gut instincts hadn’t spent any time in a boat and were useless at predicting a shear of wind that slammed into them and started everything rocking. David shoved free, Tai re-grabbed, and they were both headed to the deck. The best thing Tai could say about it was that he managed to turn enough to take most of the impact with David on top of him. David wasn’t a tiny guy, and Tai was still fighting to get his wind back when David reared over him, pinning Tai’s shoulders flat.

“Well, if this was what you wanted, you could have just said so.” David’s eyes glittered, bright and hard. He worked the belt on Tai’s jeans, popped his fly. “It’s a lot to measure up to, but I don’t mind trying.”

David yanked down the zipper, hand diving in to palm the shaft through Tai’s Jockeys before Tai remembered what he’d figured out before they hit the deck. “Were you asking me if I
like
you?”

“Well, I know part of you does.” David reached through the slit, a gliding touch on bare skin.

“That’s an understatement.” Tai grunted and then choked off a gasp as David’s grip turned firm. Tai stuck his own hand between them and caught David’s forearm, careful to avoid the bruises on his wrist. Hauling him forward then wrapping him in a hug, Tai said, “Do you think I do this with just anybody?”

“I’m the guy from the bathroom at Grand Central, remember?”

“I do. And yeah. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I would never ask someone I didn’t like to be my submissive.”

“My, aren’t you a friendly guy to amass all that experience.”

“I didn’t say
a
submissive. Any more than I mean
a
fuck. I said
my
submissive.” Tai let a little of his Dom voice roll into that. Another gust sent the boat bumping back and forth in its berth.

David turned the motion to his advantage, grinding against Tai’s dick.

“And if you ask me what the difference is, I might not show you.” Tai moved his hands down to David’s ass.

He was smiling, but the hint of his tongue at the corner of his mouth suggested he wasn’t as cocksure as his throaty “So?”

Tai held tight to stop David’s motion, but that didn’t keep the boat from continuing to rock, a dissonance that made Tai’s stomach lurch. “Yes. My dick likes you. More importantly, I like you. And I want you to be my submissive.”

David’s body jerked, his breath sucked in fast and tight. “Okay.”

Tai squeezed David’s ass until he winced. “That’s not how you answer me.”

David bucked again, driving his cock against Tai’s. A good kind of rub to keep the pulse of arousal lasting forever. But they needed to get things clear first. David wanted boundaries, and Tai loved drawing them for him. He swatted David’s ass, mostly palm, but with enough force to make an impression through his deck shorts.

“Yes, Sir.” David rocked against him harder.

“
Yes, Sir
what?”

“Yes, Sir. I want to be your submissive.”

“No.”

David’s breath was short, ragged, his brow wrinkling under his hair.

“Yes, Sir. I am your submissive,” Tai clarified for him.

David repeated it, and the raw yearning in his voice frayed the hold Tai had on himself. He tried to roll them, but they were wedged in a space between benches. Whoever thought boats were romantic settings had never tried to fuck on one.

“Ah hell,” he muttered and gave up on a better location, reaching between them to get David’s fly undone. “Get these off.”

“Yes, Sir.”

While David was busy with the tangle around his anklet, Tai pushed and hauled them out of the tight space, gaining a little maneuvering room, but keeping them shielded by the canopy over the cockpit. He sat up, dragging David up until his thighs opened across Tai’s, settling into his lap.