Bad Behavior (Bad in Baltimore) (6 page)

The other couple, and that coupling was well-established when they did everything but fuck right on the patio table, was a bit trickier to get a read on. If you were going by looks, sure Quinn was someone who could take charge and make things happen, but Beach had brought home more than one big and strong man and ended up doing more hard work than if he was with a girl. The connection between Quinn and his much younger boyfriend Eli—that took some figuring. The pale Goth kid had a sweet-looking ass and a delicately featured face under long black bangs, but when he said jump, everyone asked how high.

Case in point, Eli had just sent Kellan and Marco—who was so innocent and childlike Beach had crossed him off the list the minute he saw the doe eyes under the brown curls—into the house to retrieve the desserts Beach had brought along.

Marco was dwarfed by a stack of two boxes, Kellan toting the other three and balancing paper plates and napkins on top. Beach supposed he had gone a bit overboard. But he’d panicked when he realized he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t set off the monitor’s alarms by going into Grand Cru to pick up some wine for a gift.

“What’s in them?” Nate poked open one of the boxes like it had spiders in it rather than six custard tarts.

“Whatever the good people at Le Vol au Vent had left before they closed at noon,” Beach said. “Are you suffering on that gluten-free thing?” Having to give up so much might explain a lot.

“No.” Kellan lifted out a chocolate mousse cake with respectful care. “He’s just a vegetarian. And a pain in the ass.”

“Lucky for you,” Nate got out before his words were muffled. Beach couldn’t quite see behind Kellan’s broad shoulders when he faced Nate, but it sounded a little obscene. Beach hoped the only licking going on was from fingers.

“I’ve some strawberry Jell-O and Cool Whip in the fridge if you want that.” Eli smirked as he sliced the cake.

“Gelatin is from animal hooves,” Nate pointed out.

Kellan took the slice Eli handed him. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Oh, wait. I know.” Marco jumped up and ran to the back door. He returned a moment later with a wizened, spotted banana. “Here.”

“Perfect.” Kellan pulled the cake away and handed off the banana. “There you go, baby. Guaranteed vegetarian.”

A sense of humor to go with a controlling attitude? Beach was definitely hoping he’d been brought here to talk to Kellan.

“You brought all of this?” Marco selected a cream puff from one of the other boxes.

Beach nodded.

Marco squirmed onto his lap, putting the cream puff to Beach’s mouth. “Are you anyone’s sugar daddy right now?”

“Uhmf.” Between the custard and the kiss Marco smushed onto Beach’s lips, it was difficult to answer. He looked to Gavin for help. All the bastard did was smile and shake his head. Beach had trouble picturing Jamie’s sour disposition around this crew. Quinn had dragged Eli into his lap and was being fed chocolate mousse.

“Marco, honey.” Beach leaned back and licked his lips. “I’m afraid you’re—”

“I’m not too young. I’m eighteen.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Beach put a finger to the child’s lips. “I’m afraid you’re too much man for me.”

Marco peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Don’t. No,
que
. You aren’t gay?”

“I’m flexible.”

“Or as he likes to say, ‘any port in a storm’,” Gavin said.

“Bi pride, dude.” Kellan reached over with a fist bump.

“Oh. Both.” Marco accepted that easily. “So?”

As Beach tried to think of a way to extricate himself with the kid’s pride still intact, Marco wrapped his arms around Beach’s neck. “Can I just pretend? For a minute?”

It was downright heartbreaking. “Sure.” Beach tucked the kid against his chest.

“It’s not so wrong to want to get fucked, right?”

God, Beach had never been that young. And hell, he thought Gavin had been born jaded. Where was all the conversation that had been bouncing around the table all afternoon?

“Marco.” There was the firm voice Beach had suspected Quinn could bust out when he wanted to. Thank God someone was keeping track of this kid. One trip to a place like Grand Central and he’d be as cynical as the rest of them.

Marco clung a little tighter. “I’m so horny. And I’m surrounded by all this.” He nodded at either end of the table.

“Gavin’s alone too. What about him?” Beach murmured.

“His boyfriend is at work. He will get it later.”

Beach glanced at Gavin, who was suppressing laughter with tight lips. Okay, this sure beat a stuffy Montgomery dress-up party. Beach was starting to think it had one over on anything his friends down on Riviera Beach could dream up. He tried to find another way to let the kid down gently.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Marco nodded.

Beach extracted a promise, then cupped his hands to Marco’s ear to whisper, “You’re very sexy, but when I’m with a guy, I only like to get it, if you know what I mean.” It was half-true. And if he managed to overcome Officer Fonoti’s reservations, Beach expected it would be true more often than not.

He felt Marco nod and lifted his hands away. Marco shielded his lips as he whispered back, “How will I learn to tell?”

Beach kept up the secrecy. “Watch. See how they stand. If they want to fuck you, they take up more room. And listen to how they talk.” He pulled away. “Then you’ll feel it. Here.” He tapped Marco’s stomach.

“Not here?” Marco grabbed Beach’s hand and shoved it lower.

Beach yanked his hand free and dumped Marco off his lap, but at least the kid was grinning.

Gavin was smooth, Beach had to give him that. He didn’t know how his friend had managed it, but Beach was alone in the kitchen with Eli, helping him with the few remaining dishes, and didn’t even know he’d been set up until Eli said, “So. Gavin said you wanted to talk to me.”

Beach dried off a pair of grill tongs while he tried to figure out how to swing this subject with a guy he’d just met.

“About figuring out you’re kinky.”

The tongs clattered to the floor. And on the other hand, Gavin could be as smooth as a sledgehammer.

“Bastard,” Beach muttered as he handed the tongs back to Eli.

Eli huffed a laugh. “He said you were a little shy about it. But if you want it, you’re going to have to figure out how to ask for it. Especially as a bottom.”

That sledgehammer kept right on swinging.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m judging you.” Eli handed over the tongs again. “I’ve been kinky—and queer—as long as I can remember.” He rinsed off a wooden spoon and smacked it against his palm. “I’m mostly a sensation bottom.” He whapped the spoon a few more times, sending water droplets flying up, misting over Beach’s flushed face.

“What does that mean?” Though he guessed he knew part of it from the spoon action.

“I love to get spanked. Hard. Fucked hard. Pain like that turns me on.”

“I—I don’t think that’s for me.” If he wasn’t worried about insulting Eli, Beach would have come down more firmly on the no-to-pain side. He’d been through surgery and a long recovery on his smashed leg. Pain was not a friend. He gave a side eye to the spoon as Eli handed it to him.

“Don’t freak. We don’t use that one.”

If Beach had been alone, he might have tested it out. All the same, he was still pretty sure about this. His parents hadn’t been spankers, but when they exited Beach’s life and his uncle became his guardian, a brief period of adolescent smart-mouthing had made Beach all too familiar with the phrase, “Go cut me a switch, boy, and drop ’em.”

It had been a very brief period of smart-mouthing.

Still, two days ago Beach didn’t know it was worth putting up with the pain of having a dick fucking him after he’d come, worth it because someone demanded it, worth it to hear brief words of praise in a rough voice.
Good. So good.

“Gavin said something about D/s. I’ve done a little of that before, and—” for the first time there was a catch in Eli’s voice, but it didn’t sound like shyness, “—we’re playing with that some too.”

“I think I like the idea of being told what to do. Being controlled.”

“Because he wants it, yeah.” Eli’s voice held a warm rush of pleasure. “When he’s all focused on you and making you take more than you thought you could and you want to, for him.”

“Yes.” Relief sank deep, cozy as sunshine into Beach’s bones. That was exactly it. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t known about this before.

“Of course, it all really starts when you want it to stop. When you know you can’t take it, when it really does hurt, and he pushes you further.”

Eli had said pain turned him on. If there were parts of this where the pain was too much for him… That was terrifying. So why did Beach want to jump into it, ache to know what Eli was talking about now?

“What I mean is, don’t safe word out too early. Not to discourage anyone from embracing their kink, but if you’re going to play as a sub, a Dom is going to deal you some pain. As punishment or control. You’ll probably be spanked. You should get your head around it before you play.”

Nothing had felt less like playing than what had happened inside Beach when Officer Fonoti had told Beach why his blackmail wouldn’t work. “And then when you two aren’t playing, everything is like the way you are now?”

“Quinn still has ways of making demands.” Eli grinned and handed over some silverware. “But yeah. We’re not into doing it full-time. Some people do, though. They call it a discipline relationship. Is that what you’re thinking of trying?”

“I—I’m not exactly sure what he wants.”

“Better ask. Right away. You really should negotiate up front. Make sure if you have any hard limits—things you would never ever do—he knows about them. Safe words, safety, all that stuff. If he doesn’t listen, then you need to get the hell out.”

Beach had asked. Sort of. Considering some people weren’t at their best in the wee hours of the morning, he’d given things another shot on the phone at the entirely respectable hour of nine. He hadn’t been surprised when his call went immediately to voicemail. He’d had his message planned.

“Please accept my apologies for—well, for everything that got us off on the wrong foot. I clearly overstepped. And you called my bluff. I would never have followed through. I respect—” No need to complicate things with a lie. Authority wasn’t high on Beach’s list. “I just wouldn’t. So I was thinking we could start things off better. Perhaps even with an apologetic blow job. My treat of course.”

Armed with Eli’s information, Beach supposed his message should have been,
I want to be your sub. We should negotiate what you expect. I don’t know what my hard limits are because I don’t know what you’d ask. A blow job is definitely not on the limits list. Spanking might be.

“It’s all theoretical at present. I’m not sure I have his attention.”

“Don’t worry about that. If there’s one thing I can help you with, it’s getting a guy’s attention.” Eli reached for a glass bowl, then looked at Beach. “Do you think I can trust you with something breakable now?”

No badge, no gun, no Jez. Tai felt naked walking into Gina’s Fourth of July barbecue. From the way the two dozen people in the yard stared, he might as well have been. He was about to check to see if his cargo shorts were still on when a guided missile hit him in the thigh.

“Hi, Daddy Tai. That rhymes.”

The sweet giggle made the whole damned mess worth it. Ignoring the stares, he scooped Sammie up into a hug. “It does. You’re pretty smart. How come you’re so smart if school is over?”

Sammie’s sigh was exactly like her mom’s, and so was the patient lecture in her voice. “It doesn’t go away once you learn it. That’s the whole point of school.”

“Good to know.” He drank in the sight of her face. How could her round little cheeks already be starting to sharpen? He hoped Gina didn’t have her on some crazy diet.

“Where’s Jezebel?” Sammie’s heels drummed his bottom ribs.

“She wanted to stay home. She doesn’t like fireworks.” Getting Jez to remain completely calm no matter what Sammie did to her had been Tai’s top priority. Now Sammie could probably cut off an ear and Jez would simply lick her face, but the combination of random bangs and strangers wasn’t something Tai was willing to test.

“Okay.” Her feet kicked harder, and she squirmed.

Daddy Tai was only as interesting as his dog. He put her down, and she squeezed out a hug before running off where some kids were chasing each other around a tree.

He didn’t turn as Gina came up to stand beside him. “She’s still happy to see you.”

Tai shoved his hands in his pockets. Being around Gina made him feel like a giant with a Barbie doll. “What’s going on with her hair?”

“She wants to grow locs.” Gina’s tone didn’t give Tai much of a hint on whether it was a good or bad development.

Tai glanced at Gina’s relaxed-to-her-shoulders hair. He’d worn his own long since leaving high school, and it ran curly or straight depending on the weather. He kept it scraped back in a tight knot for work.

Gina’s chin poked out. “It’s her hair.”

“No defense moves necessary. I’m glad she gets to do what she wants with it.”

Gina relaxed. “Beats fighting her with a comb to get it into braids. She’s so damned tender-headed.”

“I bet.”

“What would you know?” But there was laughter in her voice. “I’ve seen her hair after a week with you. You’d cut your heart out rather than fight with her on anything.”

True. He’d been in awe of Sammie from the instant he held her. Couldn’t believe the tiny little squirming ball had grown into a baby, then a toddler, now a child. That she’d been his.

Except she wasn’t. Even if she looked exactly like baby pictures of his mom.

The man whose DNA profile proved he was 99.9 percent more likely to have given Sammie half her DNA than Tai strode over and offered a cold bottle of beer and an all-but-subliminal nod.

Tai took the beer.

“Glad you made it.” Josh’s words weren’t close to a decent lie. “Got some ribs on.”

“Thanks. Smells great.” Which was the truth, damn it. Tai’s mouth had been watering two steps from the car.