Tag Team (25 page)

As he continued to stare at the room before him, Mason wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that the historical quality of such a magnificent home that dominated the front of the house as well as exterior was missing in these rooms. But the longer he stood there, gorging himself on the ten-foot-high ceilings, large floor-to-ceiling windows, covered pool beyond the French doors, and the overall feel of the room, he realized that his slight disappointment took nothing away from the real joy he felt as he took it all in. This room fit what he knew of the men who owned it: powerful, intriguing, exciting with dashes of warmth and softness. It was perfect.

“Make yourself at home,” Rig told him, stepping out from a door off from the kitchen. “Bathroom is here,” he said, stabbing a thumb over his shoulder toward the room he’d just exited. “There’s a full bath on the second floor if you want a shower.”

Mason moved to the island, his fingers brushing along the cool metal of a side table and then across a bright-red throw along the back of one couch as he passed.

“You’re more than welcome to explore on your own if you’d like,” Bobby offered from where he stood next to the fridge examining the contents. “Or I can give you a tour, but I have to make a few calls first.” He looked over at Mason and winked. “I have a little ass kissing to do for the two-week vacation that turned into three months.”

Guilt caused Mason’s stomach to roll. It was his fault Bobby and Rig had stayed away from their friends and home for so long. He dropped his gaze and pinched the bridge of his nose as a throb began to beat behind his eyes. He’d forever regret the stupidity of his actions, the selfishness behind it, which led to meeting Bobby and Rig. He didn’t have a moment’s regret about them coming into his life. He just wished he could have changed how it happened.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking as the guilt continued to swirl around in his gut.

Suddenly a solid chest pressed against Mason’s back, and Rig’s strong arms came around to encircle his waist as Bobby came up in front of him and grabbed Mason’s face in both his hands and kissed him sweetly. “I’m not,” Bobby said against his lips.

Rig’s voice was hoarse when he whispered against Mason’s neck, “I’ll never be sorry for meeting you.” He pressed a kiss to Mason’s flesh and hugged him tighter. “Ever.”

Mason basked in their heat and strength. He’d read somewhere once that a man who goes through tragedy can either let it destroy him and allow it to make him bitter and never let it go, or he can allow the tragedy to make him stronger, help him grow. Mason wasn’t so sure the tragedy had made him stronger or it had helped him grow, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was the strength of the two men holding him that had pulled him up out of despair and made him smile again. He buried his nose in Bobby’s neck, laid one hand over Rig’s where it rested on Mason’s belly, and used the other to cling to the back of Bobby’s shirt.

Bobby and Rig made him feel loved again, and in that, Mason found his own strength.

Chapter 23

“O
H
STOP
your bitching,” Bobby razzed. “All you had to do was check in on the place, and you had complete access to the best fucking playroom in the state. Consider us even since you owed me for helping you pull your head out of your ass and hooking you up with that gorgeous pup of yours.”

“You just have to have the one up, don’t you?” An annoyed sound came through the phone line, followed by Tackett’s husky laughter.

“But of course,” Bobby sniffed. “How is Micah anyway? Did he enjoy my playroom?”

“Micah’s doing great. He’s…. Fuck, Bobby, I’m so proud of him.” Tackett’s voice was fierce. “And he loved the playroom. He’s convinced me that we need our own.”

Bobby smiled and leaned back in the barstool. “You sound like a man in love, my friend.”

“I am,” Tackett said with complete confidence. “Every day he teaches me something new, pushes me just as much as I push him.” Tackett laughed again. “He keeps me on my toes, that’s for damn sure, but I love every exasperating inch of him.”

Thank you
, Bobby mouthed and pointed to the counter when Rig brought in the boxes of pizza. “I knew you two were perfect for each other,” he told Tackett. “You’re both stubborn as hell.”

“Whatever,” Tackett sniffed dismissively. “So when are we going to get to meet this new man in your life?”

“Soon,” Bobby assured him, patted Rig’s hand when it landed on his shoulder, and squeezed. “We want to give him a couple of days to get settled. I’ll call you and set up lunch next week.”

“Sounds great. I’m looking forward to meeting him. Give my best to Rig.”

“Shall do,” Bobby said, looking up and smiling at the man himself. “And thanks again for house-sitting.”

“No thanks needed. It was our pleasure,” Tackett assured him. “Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.” Bobby flipped his phone closed, disconnecting the call, and set it on the island. “Tackett said to give you his best.”

“How’s he and Micah doing?” Rig asked and massaged the tension in Bobby’s shoulders that had set in during the last two days from being stuck in a car.

“Tackett is so in love it’s almost sickening,” Bobby said with a groan as Rig’s fingers dug in, pushing against a knot in his muscles.

“Can’t be any more sickly sweet than how much you’re in love with Mason,” Rig commented.

“That obvious, huh?” he finally answered.

“Yup,” Rig said and kissed the top of Bobby’s head. “At least it is to me.”

Bobby turned his head, catching Rig’s gaze. “You’re pretty obvious in your affections too, old man.”

Rig gave him a slight smile and nodded. Both were painfully aware that their love may never be returned in the way they wished, but hopeless to try and stop. Bobby nodded back.

“Okay! This is just the greatest house I’ve ever been in,” Mason exclaimed excitedly as he rushed into the room.

Bobby’s heart sped; Mason’s happiness always had that effect on him. “You approved of the rest, then, huh?” Bobby teased.

“Oh my God. The bedrooms look like they were original to when the house was built,” he said, hands flailing wildly as he spoke, emphasizing his elation. “But the bathroom.” He groaned happily, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if he were remembering it. A blissed-out smile touched his lips, and when he opened his eyes once again, they were gleaming. “The bathroom is huge and gorgeous, and I can’t wait to soak in that giant-ass tub. Everything is overwhelming as hell. But not in a bad way, in a good way, ya know. Well from what I saw. The door to the third floor is locked, by the way, but I bet it’s as great as the rest of this place.

“Oh! You ordered pizza. Smells great, I’m starving,” he said and plopped down in the barstool next to Bobby. He reached for the box, flipped it open, and grabbed a slice and took a bite, still talking.

As Mason continued to ramble on about the house, his words came out faster and faster until they began to run together. Bobby glanced at Rig, who released Bobby’s shoulders and took the stool on the other side of Bobby. As soon as their eyes met, they started to chuckle at Mason’s glee.

“Once we’ve finished eating, we’ll show you the third floor,” Rig said and grabbed a slice of pizza.

Bobby took his own, munching happily as he continued to listen to Mason talk about the furnishings and architecture. Bobby was ridiculously overjoyed that Mason loved the house. He couldn’t wait to see if that love extended to the secrets that awaited him on the third floor.

R
IG
held out the keys to Mason. “Go ahead,” he said. Mason gave him a questioning look, but he accepted them and unlocked the door.

Mason gasped when he pushed the door open. He was wide-eyed, and Rig watched him carefully as he stood next to him. Rig didn’t say anything, giving Mason a moment to take it all in. Their playroom could blow one’s mind upon seeing it for the first time. He’d had some say in the decorating of the living room and kitchen, as well as the master bath, but the rest of the house had been Bobby and an interior decorator named Raoul’s doing. To this day he wasn’t impressed with the old-world feel to the rooms, nor had he been impressed with the way Raoul had kept finding excuses to touch Bobby in Rig’s presence. The little fucker was lucky to have finished the rooms when he did. It probably saved his life, or at the very least a beat down. The playroom, however, was the one room in the house that he’d put the most thought into and the most work.

As Mason moved around the room, he sucked in several harsh breaths and said, “Oh my God,” over and over as he slowly turned, taking in the room. Bobby came to stand close to Rig and rested his hand on Rig’s lower back. Rig draped an arm over Bobby’s shoulders, and together they silently watched Mason move about the room as he continued to mutter, “Oh my God.” Rig’s smile stretched wide across his face. He’d had a feeling Mason would be impressed, and he was right.

Mason stopped in front of the large St. Andrew’s cross, his fingers sliding across the leather and wood almost reverently. “I’ve only ever seen these online or in videos. It’s very beautiful. Solid.”

“Thank you. A friend of ours crafted it,” Bobby told him. “In fact he’s custom designed most of the furniture in here.”

Mason didn’t respond, other than a slight nod of his head to indicate he’d heard Bobby, already moving on. He touched the cool metal of the cage, as well as the shackles hanging from the wall, making them clank, the sound bouncing off the walls in the soundproof room. He tilted his head and studied the wall with the array of implements. Rig found it interesting that he touched each one of the paddles, floggers, and crops—even the collection of bullwhips were caressed—but he shied away from the electrical devices. Mason visibly winced when his hand hovered over the sounds without touching them, and Rig found that telling. Mason obviously had some experience with them, and it must not have gone well. Rig stored that information away.

Mason didn’t open the large armoire or the two large trunks sitting on either side of it. As he moved past them, his eyes were instead on the spanking bench. He ran his fingers over the soft, rich leather and then bent to tug on the large iron ring bolted to the floor, testing it.

“You know, Mason,” Rig said playfully, yet completely seriously. “I’ve never allowed a submissive in my playroom dressed.”

Mason stood and turned to face Rig. Rig held perfectly still, scarcely breathing as he waited to see how Mason would respond. It felt as if time stood still, anticipation quickening Rig’s pulse as he watched the play of emotions across the man’s face. It seemed like a long time, but was probably only seconds, before Mason moved. His hand went to the zipper of his hoodie, and he pulled it down. Rig let out the breath he was holding slowly, the only outward sign of his relief he allowed. Bobby wasn’t as successful in hiding his surprise. Rig heard him suck in a harsh breath and felt Bobby shift next to him, but Rig couldn’t take his eyes off Mason.

Rig watched as Mason shrugged out of his hoodie, folded it, and set it on the bench before reaching for his T-shirt, pulling it over his head, and placing it on top of the other garment. He seemed to settle into his decision, and he quickly removed his jeans along with his boxers and added them to the neat pile.

Mason was beautiful, his smooth body taut and sweet. Rig swallowed hard, his mouth practically watering as he took in the slim, semierect cock. As the minutes stretched out, Rig witnessed the uncertainty seep into Mason’s eyes and his muscles tighten with tension.

Rig walked over to him and laid his palm against Mason’s cheek. “You are so stunning,” he said lowly before pressing a kiss to Mason’s soft lips. Rig didn’t try to deepen it, tracing Mason’s bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the closeness as they breathed each other in until he felt the tension began to ease from the smaller man.

Rig kept his palm against Mason’s face and continued to kiss him as he skimmed his other hand down Mason’s chest to his hip, his fingers gliding over the prominent bone.

“Do you remember what Bobby promised you?” Rig asked him, their lips still touching.

“Yes,” Mason responded, his voice barely above a breath.

“He’s going to keep that promise. Any objections, say so now.”

Mason met Rig’s eyes, and in that moment, Rig knew exactly what Bobby had seen. Mason wasn’t going to ask for what he needed, but his eyes didn’t have the same problem. They were begging. Rig considered the spanking bench briefly. The idea of Mason stretched out over it, wrists and ankles secured to the floor, putting his sexy ass in the perfect position, made Rig’s hardening cock surge, but he dismissed it. For now.

Rig didn’t worry about where Bobby was; he’d been with the man long enough to know he’d follow along and join in when the time was right. Instead he kept his attentions completely on the man before him. When he was convinced Mason wasn’t going to object, Rig kissed Mason one more time and then licked a swath down Mason’s neck to his breastbone. He pinched lightly at one nipple between his thumb and index finger as he plucked at the other dark nub with his lips. Mason rewarded him with a deep moan.