Bad Behavior (Bad in Baltimore) (22 page)

“I’m sure he is.”

“About money, sir. About his dividend check.” Into the continuing unhelpful silence, David blurted, “I offered a wire transfer from my account, but he said it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Small mercy that you never got the full shares.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s not much of a surprise. What do you know about your father’s financial situation?”

David turned back to the counter, hiding his expressions from Tai. “Nothing.”

After that whisper, the uncle’s voice was jarring. “Precisely. And you’ve chosen to remain unaware. So don’t pretend you’re going to tax your brain with it now. Might get frown lines on that pretty face of yours.”

David’s voice deepened but held a note of appeal. “I managed a business degree from a fairly respected institution of higher learning. If you could explain it to me, Uncle Sinclair, I’m sure I could—”

“And you’ve done what with that exactly? Don’t trouble yourself. Just stay out of it.”

“It’s no trouble at all, sir. I can’t come down home at present, but—”

“I’m all too aware of your situation.”

“But if you could send someone, or I could meet with someone—”

“It’s a bit late for that, my boy.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And you should be on your knees thanking God for that.”

David went to stare out of a rectangular porthole in the wall, his forehead against the glass. “What am I supposed to tell him when he calls again?”

“Tell him he damned well knows why.”

David pulled the phone away from his ear, staring down at the screen, but it was obvious his uncle had disconnected.

“Well.” David leaned on the counter and smiled. “At least I can cross that off the to-do list. Now, can I buy you lunch?”

C
hapter Seventeen

T
ai’s clothes had progressed from soaked to damp by the time he pulled them back on. David continued to talk about anything but his conversation with his uncle.

“The restaurant here specializes in seafood, unsurprisingly, but it’s quite good, which is surprising.”

The air had gone muggy after the storm, and the damp clothes might be a nice buffer, but Tai had to change into something less jizzed on before going to work, and his dog was waiting to go out.

“I’m going to run home before I go back to work.”

“Right. Probably isn’t the best for a probation officer to be seen hanging with an alleged felon in public.”

Contact with criminals was dead on for Tai’s job description, but he cut through David’s defensive bullshit. “I’m sorry your uncle wasn’t much help.” Though if the charges were serious enough that David’s father was hiding out in Venezuela, the guy deserved a little inconvenience. Statutory-rape laws existed for good reason.

David gathered up the damp towels and his long-sleeved shirt, stuffing them into a canvas drawstring bag and tossing it back up through the hatch. “Dad should have expected it. Uncle Sinclair’s self-righteousness is a lot to live up to. You may have noticed, the rest of us Beauchamps are a bunch of scalawags. Right on back to my carpetbagger great-great-grandfather who got us slung out of Charleston after the war.”

“David.” Tai could see the name and tone alone couldn’t break through. Something sure needed to. He blocked the hatch, hands braced to either side.

“I know you have to get back to work. And I need to wash these. Mold is a bitch on a boat. And once it digs in, you might as well forget about ever getting rid of it.”

Tai got tired of waiting for David’s effort at charming bravado to run down. One step forward and Tai locked him up in a hug.

“Um. Thanks.” David returned the hug for an instant and then pulled away as much as Tai’s hold let him. Patting Tai’s back a couple of times, David said, “I appreciate it. But it’s no big deal. My family’s shortcomings are not exactly a surprise.”

When Tai didn’t let go, David pushed. “Really. I’m fine.”

Tai kissed him, then propped one foot up on the small steps leading to the deck, dragged David forward and pushed him over Tai’s elevated thigh.

“What the hell are you—?”

Tai swatted his ass, not hard, but enough to make his intention obvious.

“Let me rephrase that. Why are you doing that? Sir,” David ground out through clenched teeth.

Tai smacked him three more times, dusting his palm across the top curve, aiming for sting rather than impact. “First, let’s be clear about what I’m doing.” He rested his hand on David’s ass and waited.

“From what I can tell, you’re blocking the way out and hitting me.”

That was his boy, not going down without some fight.

Tai rubbed David’s back, then swung hard, wrist flicking to make sure there was a good, long sting.

David jolted forward. “Ow.”

“We can do this on the sofa with your pants off, or we can do it faster. What am I doing?”

“Spanking me.”

Tai squeezed a handful of cheek. “Who am I spanking?”

“Your submissive, Sir.” David’s voice was rough, but not with suppressed anger anymore.

“Good. When you were in a similar position last night, what did you tell me?” Tai smoothed the material of David’s shorts over his ass.

After a long, steady breath, David said, “I will trust you, Sir.”

“Yes, David.” Tai spanked him fast until he could see the reaction in his lifted head and feet. “You don’t have to talk about what’s going on, but you do not run from me or lie to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Tai finished with a few hard swats. “Stand up.” He held David’s arm as he got his balance.

With his head down, David unbuttoned his shorts and shoved them and his briefs off his hips before leaning forward over Tai’s leg again.

The rush of heat under Tai’s skin made him want to kiss David, not spank him. But rejecting David’s need, failing the trust in that waiting surrender, would destroy everything they were creating.

Tai stroked a hand down David’s spine. His David. So resentful of restrictions while craving to be held down, have accountability forced on him. That he shared it with Tai, had confidence in what Tai offered, electrified the air more sharply than the storm, pulsing between them. No. He would not let his boy down.

Hitching his leg up higher, Tai held David tight at the waist to keep him secure. His ass was barely pink, though following so close after last night’s spanking, it was probably more tender than it looked. Tai wanted to make sure David got the release he was looking for. “Five more. Hang on to my leg. If you reach back, we start over.”

David latched on to Tai’s calf, muscles tensing as Tai rubbed the hot flesh.

“Relax. I’m not going to start until you relax.”

David let out a long breath and stopped clenching.

“Good boy.” Tai slammed his hand down under the curve, one swat turning the pink much darker. “What do you need to tell me?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Good.”

Tai aimed for the same spot, getting a sharp hiss in response before David repeated his apology. Three more and Tai’s palm was stinging, and there was a faint hand outline in the middle of David’s ass.

“Stand up.” Tai helped David balance, then led him to the couch, sitting and pulling him down, holding him steady as his breathing slowed. When he shifted on Tai’s lap, arms going around his neck, Tai kissed him.

“Okay?” Tai whispered against his lips.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I got you something.” Remembering David’s marked wrists and long-sleeved shirt on a day headed for triple-digit temps, Tai had stopped at the leather store before heading for the marina. He pulled a dressier pair of cuffs from his pocket. “I got these for you. They snap and there’s no clip. They’re for decoration, not play.” They were woven from strips of two different shades of brown leather, softer and smoother than a braid, suede against the skin. “Not a collar,” Tai said, wondering if David understood what that would mean, and got a quick nod. “But I want you to wear them for me.”

David brushed a finger across the pattern, then smiled, offering his wrist, palm up.

The cuffs were on the decorative side. Not Beach’s usual style, but then everything about Tai was pretty far from Beach’s usual style.

He didn’t care what they looked like. Could have been made out of neon-green plastic, and they would have still felt good. It wasn’t as if he wanted to try to explain the bruises on his wrists to people with more curiosity than manners, but he liked the dark circle of smudges. All morning he’d snuck glances at them. Accidentally on purpose being sure his shirt cuff rode up so he could see them there, the ring a perfect reminder of the dizzying freedom of surrendering to Tai’s dominance.

Now he had the cuffs and a throbbing burn in his ass. It wasn’t like the pleasure Eli had described. Isolated pain like that was still something to try to avoid as far as Beach was concerned. But after? It was like every bit of stress and frustration and all those endless, unsatisfied wants got flushed out of him, leaving nothing but a peaceful, solid sensation. Being here. Belonging. Not only to Tai but to this moment. Free of the need to go chasing a distraction.

Funny how something he still didn’t like thinking about and that also hurt more than he thought he could stand made him feel so good afterward. It was the reverse of sex when things were great in the moment but the letdown after made everything awkward.

He kept touching the cuffs and sinking into the ache of his sore ass meeting Tai’s hard thighs. Tai rubbed Beach’s back, then kissed him.

“I’m glad you like them.”

“Yes. Thank you, Sir.” The Sir came out edged with a shy breath. Beach wished he knew exactly when they were supposed to be Beach and Tai or Sir and David. He knew he had a safe word as a signal for needing to end the scene, but what was a word for saying you were fine with it lasting longer?

Tai brushed his beard back and forth across Beach’s chin. Soft, then prickly when a hair caught in the wrong direction. “I can stay a bit longer if you want.”

Beach wanted. Wanted to tell Tai to pack up Jez and they’d fly right out of the harbor. Out to Bermuda or down to the Keys. Away from jobs and pending court dates. Turn this week of discovering each other into a life of it. Beach pictured them on the porch of one of those pretty pastel houses on Key West. Seagrass whispering around them. The Tai in his fantasy never wore a shirt, skin tanning darker in the Florida sun. No ankle monitor. Hell, not even shoes, their bare feet propped up on the porch rail as they watched the sunset.

Fantasy David and stuck-in-Baltimore Beach rolled an ankle. The pop was satisfying, but the monitor was still there.

“I know you’re supposed to be out checking on the rest of the miscreants.” Beach smiled and stroked Tai’s beard with his thumb.

“I’m thinking more of Jez with her legs crossed and a giant pile of files that need updating.”

Beach leaned in for a kiss, and Tai gave it, holding Beach’s head and pushing that wonderful sensation of being owned into him with lips and tongue. Beach was still high from it as they stepped off the
Nancy
onto the dock.

“Who’s Nancy?” Tai asked.

Beach imagined a hint of jealousy in the deep voice, but he told the truth with a wry smile. “Me, actually.”

At Tai’s stunned look, Beach explained as they strolled down the dock. “It was the first spring break home from Deerfield. I brought Gavin home—well, to Uncle Sinclair’s to visit. We were fourteen or fifteen, and we kept acting out some skit from school that amused us every time we did it.” He remembered Gavin’s laugh, the way a cowlick made his hair flop up and then down into one eye. “My uncle had a different opinion. ‘Look like a couple of damned nancy boys.’” Beach sneered in imitation. “Gavin got all tense.”

Poor Gavin. Beach had pretty much picked up on that vibe from his friend, though he hadn’t considered for himself if he was interested in more than some rubbing or touching with another boy.

“So.” Beach shot a look over at Tai and cleared himself some space for a proper reenactment. “I did this grand bow to my uncle…” he demonstrated, “…and said, ‘I think that should be
fancy
nancy boys, sir.’”

That sexy-sweet smile teased the corner of Tai’s mouth. He glanced back at Beach’s boat then huffed a single-breath laugh. “What did your uncle say to that?”

Beach had hoped they’d skip this part of the story. He stepped off onto the shore and tried to keep his tone light. “Oh, the usual. A big sigh followed by a ‘Cut me a switch and drop ’em, boy.’” Beach smiled. “I assume he sighed because peeling the skin off my ass was a giant inconvenience.”

“God, I’m sorry.” Tai stopped walking.

Beach felt the sympathy and regret come at him in a smothering wave.

He shook his head forcefully and tapped his cane against the side of Tai’s running shoe. “Don’t. I am keenly aware of the difference.”

Tai had that look where his brows made a tent over his eyes.

Beach took a deep breath and settled the laundry bag over his shoulder, the cuffs cradling his wrists, suede rubbing on the ring of bruises. “You ask me to trust you. Can you trust that about me?”

The return of the sun and blazing heat made all the wet pavement shimmer and steam, creating ripples behind Tai. Jaw tight, he nodded.

Beach smiled and gripped Tai’s forearm before starting toward the hotel and the parking lot beyond. “Turned out to be the last time. And the last time I went back to Uncle Sinclair’s. There was always an invitation to go to Gavin’s. Plus…” Beach waggled his eyebrows, “…Gavin felt obliged to put ointment on my butt, and that led to some interesting rubbing and exploration. I always tell Gavin he owes me for helping him figure stuff out.”

“He was your first boyfriend?”

However much fifteen-year-old Beach might have wanted some kind of acknowledgment from Gavin, that hadn’t ever been forthcoming. “Not quite that. Though he was the first in other ways. We fumbled around together.”

The grunt from Tai might have been annoyance or acceptance. It was hard to say.

The happy sensation Tai gave Beach, the certainty from giving up everything to Sir, spread out from Beach’s chest. “As it happens, that position is still open.”

Tai’s stare—Sir’s stare—fixed Beach to the spot and made him lick his lips in nervous habit. “What position?”

“My first boyfriend.”

Beach wished he were standing close enough to touch Tai because the growl that accompanied his words would have made an electric vibration.

“Consider it filled.”

The position was well filled. Jesus, it was well filled. Beach had no complaints. He’d always thought answering to someone in a relationship would be like wearing the ankle monitor times ten. Not only blinking lights and a weight, a nagging human would make Beach feel guilty about how he spent his time. Instead, he found himself checking his phone constantly for a random text from Tai. Some were funny, some echoed with Tai’s frustration about work, and some made Beach’s balls tingle and throb until it was hard to follow Tai’s order to keep hands off unless taking a piss.

That’s mine, boy.

Yes, Sir.

The anticipation of seeing Tai at the end of the day didn’t make time drag. The charge of excitement rushed time forward, until it had been over a week of having a Dominant boyfriend and physical therapy, and Beach was getting the hang of both. His leg was tired, but the bone seemed to ache less. And Tai had a way of making the extra exercises very rewarding.

The returning strength in his muscles meant Beach could kneel at Tai’s feet. Being there made Beach’s head quiet. No worrying about the court date for his sentencing looming in two weeks. No need to think about anything but being there, being David for Sir.

Beach reached for the baklava after finishing off the moussaka from the Greek takeout Tai had brought with him, and Tai put his big hand over the plastic covering the pastries. Beach quirked a smile. “I cleaned my plate, so to speak.” He tilted the empty container.