Riveted (2 page)

“I love winter,” Blake responded, wiping the snow from his own coat. “Or rather, I love getting to warm you up. C’mere.”

Ty climbed onto Blake’s lap, straddling his thighs. “Are we going to discuss that special gift now, Sir?”

Blake grabbed Ty’s hips and pulled him forward, causing Ty to moan when their groins came in contact. “I’m thinking talk is overrated, don’t you?”

“Mmm hmm.” Ty gripped the back of the seat, one hand on each side of Blake’s head, and began to rock his hips, cock swelling. “I’m definitely more of a hands-on kind of guy.”

Blake licked and nibbled at Ty’s bottom lip, teasing. “And I’m definitely better at showing rather than telling.”

Ty continued to grind against the growing bulge in Blake’s slacks as the kiss deepened, groaning when Blake found his erection, cupped it in his hand and squeezed

“Oh yeah, much better at hands on,” Blake murmured against his lips. “Lean back.”

He sat back, and Blake popped the button on Ty’s jeans and eased down the zipper. Ty arched his back, pushing hard into the hand Blake wrapped around his erection.

“You’re so hard for me,” Blake murmured, his hand speeding up, stroking Ty’s cock in a firm grip.

Dick throbbing with need, a tingling sensation tickling at the base of his spine, Ty thrust into that tight grip. God, he was so close already.

Just as the car came to a stop, so did the hand on his prick and then Blake wrapped a band of leather around the base, pulled it tight, and snapped it.

“Dammit,” Ty grumbled. “I should have known I wouldn’t get to come so easily.”

“You love it.” Blake’s finger swiped across the head of Ty’s cock, spreading the liquid seeping from the slit before bringing it to his mouth and sucking the digit inside. “And so do I.”

Ty whimpered when Blake tucked his erection back into his jeans and carefully zipped and buttoned them.

“My poor denied boy,” Blake consoled, the smug look on his face ruining the effect. Ty huffed, causing Blake to chuckle. The Dom then opened the door. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

Excited to see what his lover had in store for him, Ty scrambled off Blake’s lap and stepped out of the car. He groaned when he heard Blake behind him say, “
If
you’re a very good boy.”

B
LAKE
stopped with his hand on the doorknob, head cocked as if he were listening to a noise from within. “You may want to keep your coat on for a bit.”

Ty stopped with his coat halfway down his arms. “Why? Didn’t you pay the heating bill?”

With his free hand, Blake reached out and stroked the prominent bulge in Ty’s jeans. “We have company.” With that, Blake opened the door.

The scent of basil, tomato, and warm yeast wafted out of the apartment, and Ty quickly shrugged his coat back on, fumbling to button it up. He’d recognize that scent anywhere. “Your mom?” he hissed. Keeping his voice low, Ty grumbled, “You got me hard as fucking nails and your
mom
is here?” Ty shook his head. “I say this with the utmost respect, Sir, you are one mean bastard.”

Blake laughed, then gave Ty a chaste kiss. “She isn’t staying. C’mon.” He grabbed Ty’s hand and pulled him toward the kitchen.

Ty got a brief look at the dining room table as they passed: crystal and china dinnerware, white tapers burning in silver holders, and a matching bucket filled with ice and champagne. A single red rose in a silver vase completed the romantic look, set for two—thank God.

“Ah, there you two are. You’re just in time,” Martha said as she pulled a loaf of bread from the oven. “Everything is ready; you just need to slice the bread.”

“I’ve got it, Mom.” He kissed her on the cheek and took the potholders from her. “Everything looks and smells great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said sincerely, hugging her son. “It’s a special night, yes?”

“Very special,” Blake assured her.

Martha went up on tiptoes and whispered something in Blake’s ear, to which Blake replied with a shake of his head. Ty’s gut rolled. He hated surprises, and he could tell by the look on their faces that they were cooking up something—and it wasn’t just Martha’s famous lasagna.

Martha Drover was a petite, beautiful woman, and it was easy to see where Blake got his good looks from. They both had the same deep brown eyes, smooth olive skin, and dark hair, although Martha’s was now streaked with silver. More importantly, she was just as beautiful on the inside and had accepted Ty as the man in her son’s life from day one. But while she had gone out of her way to make Ty feel like a part of their small family, he still held a part of himself back. Martha seemed to know when he was taking a step back and would smile, pat his hand, and ease off, but she tried harder the next time. The guilt ate at him some days, but he just couldn’t silence the small voice in his head that kept whispering this would all end one day.

“Ty, you look a little flushed. Are you getting sick?” Martha hugged him, then reached up to feel his forehead.

“I’m fine,” he assured her, wrapping his coat a little tighter.
Nope, not sick. I’m in pain, my balls ache, and it’s your son’s fault with his obsession with cock rings, but really, I’m fine.
“Good seeing you and wow, it smells good in here. Lasagna?” he added, trying to shift the attention away from his discomfort.

Martha gave him a suspicious look but nodded. “I know it’s your favorite. Here, let me have your coat. I’ll hang it up on my way out.”

Ty shot a panicked look toward Blake and clutched his coat. Thankfully, Blake took pity on him—
bastard should since it’s his fault.

“Mom,” Blake said, coming up and wrapping his arm around Martha before nudging her toward the front door. “I’ve got this. Thank you for cooking for us. It’s the perfect way to celebrate.” Blake helped her with her coat and gave her a hug. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“I’m heading out to meet some friends for drinks. Call me tomorrow,” she said with a wave of a hand. “I don’t expect to be home early.”

“Hot date?” Ty asked, waggling his brows.

“Hmm, perhaps,” she demurred, but the smile that curled her lips was telling. She reached to give Ty a hug; he accepted it but was careful to keep his lower body away from her. He winced when he bent, since the forward motion pulled on his groin and strangled his bound cock further. Before releasing him she tilted her head and studied him carefully again. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“He’s fine, Mom,” Blake said. “You know I take good care of him, and if he were sick I’d already have the chicken noodle soup heating and him tucked in bed.”

Martha continued to stare at Ty. God he was going to kill Blake. He did his best to give her a convincing smile. “I know,” she said, finally releasing Ty and patting Blake on the arm as she pulled her gloves from her coat pocket. “You’re very good to him. Speaking of which, when are you two going to finally settle down and give me some grandbabies?” She arched a brow at Ty.

That stopped him short and he coughed to cover up his shock. “Uh, don’t look at me,” he sputtered. “I’ve got the wrong plumbing.”

Blake laughed, shaking his head as he opened the door. “Good night, Mom.”

“Good night, boys.”

Martha stopped just outside the door and started to say something, but Blake interrupted her. “Love you, Mom. Call you tomorrow.”

“What the hell was that all about?” Ty demanded when Blake shut the door. “Grandkids?” Ty’s gut rolled at the thought.

“She’s been on this kick ever since Ricky Martin adopted those twins,” Blake said easily and helped Ty with his coat. “It will pass.”

“It better,” Ty grumbled. “I don’t want any kids. Does she realize I’m a very needy man and don’t share my attention well?”

“I know, boy,” Blake said, his dark eyes sparkling. He was undeniably amused at Ty’s rant. He pressed his palm to the front of Ty’s jeans. “
Very
needy of my attentions.”

Ty moaned and pushed into his hand. Then he remembered he was supposed to be angry at Blake and narrowed his eyes. “I can’t believe you got me all worked up and your mom, Jesus, your
mom
was here!”

Blake wrapped his arms around Ty, leaning in and nuzzling his neck. “Will you forgive me if I promise to make it up to you?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, at the same time turning his head to the side to give the man more room in which to work. “It was pretty mean.” His complaint turned to a moan when Blake began nipping and licking along Ty’s neck.

Blake snickered. “Okay, I admit it was mean, but in my defense I thought she’d be gone by the time we got home.”

“Oh please,” Ty said with a snort. “She takes every opportunity to see you these days. I think she’s a little jealous of the amount of time you spend with me at work.”

“Speaking of which,” Blake said excitedly, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. “Let’s eat and pop the cork. We’re supposed to be celebrating.” He leaned in and gave Ty one last kiss. “Then I’ll do a little ass kissing when you’re naked and on the bed,” he promised, pulling Ty along to the kitchen.

Once they had set the lasagna and fresh bread on the table, Ty arched a brow at him before taking his seat. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

“What, the ass kissing?”

Ty nodded and filled his plate.

“Oh trust me, I’m planning on it,” Blake said with a soft laugh, pulling the cork from the champagne bottle and then pouring them each a glass. He handed one to Ty. “Here’s to new business ventures.”

Ty clinked his glass against Blake’s. “Here’s to your promotion, going from a guard at Folsom to warden.” He took a sip, the bubbles tickling his nose.

When Ty lowered his glass, Blake was staring at him with an odd expression on his face. “What?” he asked, setting down his glass and picking up his fork, Martha’s pasta calling his name.

“I like it,” Blake said, nodding with a thoughtful look. He filled his own plate, still nodding and seeming to get more excited. “Actually, I think it’s a perfect name.”

“What, ‘Warden’?” Ty asked absently. He shoveled in a large bite of lasagna and chewed happily.

“No. Guards of Folsom.”

“And we all know how you guard the place,” Ty drawled with a smirk. “You’re right, it is perfect.”

Blake fell silent for a moment, watching him before speaking again. His voice was sincere when he said, “It’s not the club I guard, it’s you. As should every Dom guard and protect their sub.”

“You sure showed your ownership of your sub with Mr. Austin tonight.”

“I don’t own you, Ty, and you’re much more than my sub,” Blake said quietly.

I’ve never been worth owning.
Fuck, that was his truth. He’d been a throwaway his whole life. It didn’t matter how hard he wished otherwise, it always ended. A lump formed in Ty’s throat and he reached for his glass, wrinkling his nose at the champagne. “I’m going to get a glass of water,” he said, pushing away from the table. “Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

With shaking hands Ty filled two glasses with ice and went to the sink. He hated when his past came creeping up on him. No rhyme or reason, his insecurities just seemed to attack whenever they had a mind to. He’d had a great day, got the night off, was having a great dinner, and Blake had gotten his club, so why the hell was he shaking so goddamn badly inside and out? It felt like he was suffocating.

He filled one glass and downed the water, which did little to help with the lump in his throat and only managed to cause the churning in his gut to intensify. He refilled it and the glass for Blake, then set them aside. After shutting off the tap, Ty clutched the counter and closed his eyes, then took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Tonight was about celebrating Blake acquiring the club, not about him.
Live in the moment
.
Enjoy what you have now
, he reminded himself. The mantra was getting harder and harder to say and even harder to believe. He’d been cast aside his whole life by people who always tired of him, so he should be used to it. But this time, with Blake, Ty knew it was different. He wouldn’t only be losing another home or a Dom, but his whole world.

Forcing away those thoughts, Ty took one last deep breath and grabbed the glasses of water. He plastered on a happy expression before heading back to the dining room. Blake deserved this celebration.

Setting one glass down next to his plate as he passed, he went and held the other out for Blake. Blake stared up at him, those dark eyes burrowing into him, looking past the fake smile and into Ty’s very soul. Ty averted his gaze, clamping down on the tremor that threatened, but it was too late. Blake had already seen the lie.

Taking the glass, Blake set it aside and pulled Ty onto his lap. Blake pressed his hand against Ty’s cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip. “I hate these fake smiles,” he murmured. “What do I have to do to win your trust?”

“I do—” Blake silenced him by pressing his thumb over Ty’s mouth.

“Do you remember the first time I called you my boy?”

Christ, yes, he remembered it. It hadn’t come during a scene or because of a chore well done, but during one those rare, special moments when their passion turned to slow lovemaking rather than fucking.
“My boy,”
Blake had whispered against Ty’s neck as they both came down from their orgasmic high. The memory was seared into his brain, causing him both elation and dread.

Ty nodded, not trusting his voice.

“When I said it, I meant it,” Blake said with genuine warmth in his eyes. “You
are
my boy, my lover, and the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He wanted to. More than anything else he wanted to believe that this time would be different. He could say he did, but Blake would know that the words were only to pacify him and not heartfelt. Instead, he nodded again and said quietly, “I know.” Because he did know that Blake was trying; it was his own ghosts that haunted him.

“I’m also a very patient man, Ty. I’m not going to give up until you believe me. Maybe this will help.” Blake pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to him.