Bad Behavior

by K.A. Mitchell

  “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

  Beach heaved a sigh as he slung himself into the passenger seat of the Focus. “Contrary to medical belief, you can die of boredom.”

  Tai grabbed Beach’s jaw and pulled him across the console for a kiss. “Can’t have that. We’ll stop to get your clothes and car, then you’re getting dressed at my place.”

  MEDITATING ON what Tai might have in mind provided the distraction of shivering temptation. Beach couldn’t say what had thrown him when he’d read the looks aimed at Tai—and by extension himself—in the small cluster of pastry fans. Beach had never hidden his enjoyment of both men and women, but public functions being what they were, he’d never been out, so to speak, among the general public. And Tai’s body language had been exceedingly proprietary. Or was the exposure of his submissive side what made Beach’s breakfast lurch around? Either way, he wanted that moment of confusion out of his head. He double-checked that he had everything from his socks to his sunglasses to his black card, and draped his seersucker suit over the passenger seat like he was riding with the invisible man. As he drove, he imagined a conversation with Tai.

  I forgot my tie, Sir. I’m sorry.

  How late are you going to be, boy?

  In Beach’s fantasy, Tai was tapping the bath brush against his palm.

  Beach shuddered. He hated that thing. Should have broken it after what it did to his ass. He never wanted to do that again. Except he wanted the after. The feelings that came after, in his body, in his head. His fingers went up to brush the fading bruise where Tai’s thumb had been on Beach’s throat. Would that have happened, been so intense… could Beach have let himself give in like that if Tai hadn’t first driven home how much Beach craved that intensity? Right on up to the pain that terrified him.

  Tai and Jez were waiting on their front stoop when Beach arrived with his suit. “What time do you need to leave?” Tai rose.

  “Gavin said the party was one to five. So around four?” Beach grinned.

  Tai leveled a glare that had Beach’s dick testing the roominess of his shorts.

  He tugged at them. “Fine. Ten of one. No one ever gets to these things on time. Not even the host. He would get a beautiful day too, the bastard.” Beach looked up at the fluffy clouds in the bright sky.

  “I gather this isn’t the sort of thing you need to help him set up for?”

  Beach laughed. “No. Not exactly. It’s a silent auction, thank goodness. A bunch of rare rose and azalea cultivars along with other garden delights to tempt the good charitable ladies of Charm City into supporting Gavin’s cause. I’m just eye candy.”

  Tai let them into his apartment. “And what’s his cause?”

  “This one? He’s started a foundation to fund a shelter for teens, focused on the ones who get kicked out for being gay.”

  Tai stopped, and Beach banged into him, dropping his suit. “What?” Beach asked.

  “And you can’t imagine why that’s worthwhile?” Tai’s face had turned to sharp lines, his voice disdainful and not like Sir’s at all.

  The pleasant tingles from anticipating Tai’s plans evaporated into the hot air. Real dread, real panic about where they might be headed was nothing like what they did as Sir and David. Tai’s anger, his disgust, slammed the breath from Beach much harder than any bath brush. The weight of it made his knees wobble, and he had to put his hand on the wall. “Of course it is.” Beach tried to find a way back into that light, fizzy energy. “I much prefer this to saving the dwarf wedge mussel, however important it is to the Chesapeake ecosystem.” He picked up his suit. “And I do love the Bay.”

  Tai stared at him, then turned and walked away. After standing at his desk for a minute, he came back with a check and handed it off. “Give this to Gavin. Tell him—if he needs help or runs into any kind of problems with law enforcement or corrections, he can contact me.”

  Beach folded it without looking at the amount and tucked it in his wallet. “I don’t think that will be an issue, but I’ll tell him.” Maybe there was a reason behind Tai’s reaction to the shelter idea.

  “Your mom didn’t seem to mind, I mean, she knew I was with you.” Beach had never bothered to say a word about his sexuality to anyone in his family. Gossip carried the news without any effort on his part. Had Tai and his mom had a conflict?

  “I don’t have to personally experience an injustice to want to correct it, David.”

  “I never said it wasn’t a good cause, just that fundraisers are boring as hell.”

  “So is a lot of work. Filing, making phone calls, running drug tests. But it can help people.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Beach’s easy agreement had no impact on Tai’s expression. “Well, maybe I should head out. I can get dressed at Gavin’s.”

  “Yeah, you could.”

  Cold. Had it been hot in here? Beach’s ears buzzed, and he put a hand on the wall again, staring down at his feet as if he wasn’t sure they were still there. He couldn’t feel them.

  Tai went on, “Sure. Walk away. Hide behind that smile and pretend everything is good.” Every word made Beach feel less and less attached to his body. Yes. He was smiling.

  What was he supposed to do? Admit that Tai’s opinion of him mattered more than anyone’s ever had?

  “Apparently I’ve come off as some sort of selfish, unfeeling asshole in your eyes. And since I’m so unlikable, I think I’ll leave you to your own company.” Damn it. He’d left the cane in the Spider. It would have helped with the whole not-being-able-to-feel-his-feet thing.

  Tai charged him, body held away, but his palms slapped into the wall on either side of Beach’s head, boxing him in. “I know you’re no coward. Christ, I know you’re not afraid of anything. So what’s so goddamned difficult about standing still and talking about this?”

  Beach started to raise his hands to push Tai away, then stopped, leaning back against the warm plaster. “I don’t see the point. You’re angry. I’ll be angry. Things will be said to make people feel bad.”

  “People? You and me, David. We’re the only people here.”

  “Right.” He looked past Tai to Jez, who was watching them with a tilted head and barely audible whine. “Well, Jez doesn’t like it either.”

  Tai glanced over his shoulder, then slapped the wall hard enough to make her skitter off to the bedroom. “For fuck’s sake.”

  Beach took a deep breath. “I think perhaps you misunderstood me. I think what Gavin is doing is wonderful. He has my support, personal and financial. The reason why I didn’t want to go today is because I wanted to spend the time with you. I know you have another important date tomorrow.”

  Tai’s face relaxed at the thought of his daughter. “Maybe you should meet her.”

  “If you want. But you both should have time to yourselves. I don’t want to arouse jealousy.”

  “Usually she’s more interested in the dog.”

  “I meant me. I am terrible at sharing. I had to repeat kindergarten.”

  Tai pushed away from the wall. “But a fucking genius at getting me off track.” Beach raised his palms and shrugged. Tai shook his head.

  “I promise I will take my job of helping Gavin nail down donations very seriously.”

  “Hm.” Tai narrowed his eyes, but everything was all right again. The threat of a permanent break—of options reduced to a goodbye—faded behind them, thunderclouds racing away on the horizon. “You’re damned right you will. You’re going to sell the hell out of those heirloom roses culti-whatevers, and I’m going to help you with a reminder.”

  Tai went into his bedroom and came out with a small box, which he placed in Beach’s hand. “Don’t open it yet.”

  The box was black, covered with a faux-velvet finish. Not Tiffany’s, that was certain. It had a solid feel, though, heavy for its size. He was turning it around when Tai reclaimed the box.

  “Strip.”

  Beach complied, a buzz in his nuts as he slid under Tai’s authority. When he stood
in nothing but his cuffs, he waited.

  Tai took one wrist in his hand. “Are you keeping these on?”

  “I want to.”

  Tai growled and grabbed Beach’s face, kissing him. Everything—heart-lungs-cock—ramped up, zero to eighty, faster than his Spider, and then it was over too fast. Tai stepped away.

  “Gotta get you ready to go.”

  Beach glanced down at his dick, and he’d swear it winked back. “Oh, I am, Sir.”

  “No, but you will be. You can open the box now.”

  Beach knew what the bulb of shining heavy steel was immediately. But his brain took longer to connect a butt plug displayed on blue silk like it belonged in a museum with getting dressed for Gavin’s garden party.

  “That should help inspire you.” Tai put the box on the desk.

  Tai hadn’t said Beach couldn’t speak, but for once he had nothing to say. Tai was going to send Beach off to mingle with the cream of Baltimore society with a plum-sized piece of steel up his ass. The thought left Beach without a drop of blood anywhere but his hard, aching, dripping cock.

  “Gonna need to get that under control, boy.” Tai picked up Beach’s shirt from the couch and guided his arms into it as he stared at the plug in the box. Tai had the buttons done up to Beach’s nipples before he noticed.

  “Ah-uh-I—”

  “I’ll take care of you.” Tai fastened all the buttons, the collar brushing, hiding that faint bruise. “Tie?”

  Beach shook his head, and Tai unfastened the top button before rubbing his thumb over the bruise. He’d touched it, kissed it, licked it dozens of times since it appeared. Beach was sorry it was fading so fast.

  Tai helped Beach into his jacket like a master tailor, settling it across his shoulders with tugs on the sleeves. “Your eyes are so blue and sexy in that.”

  The heat in Beach’s cheeks shocked him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed.

  Tai held up Beach’s ocean-blue briefs. “Matched to the skin. Step in.”

  The blush burned hotter. “But—”

  “We’ll get there.” Tai held the shorts out.

  Beach wasn’t sure why he didn’t feel infantile, being helped into his clothes. All he knew was the warm bubble of excitement and contentment that came from Tai’s control. He stopped with the elastic waistband under Beach’s balls.

  “Hmm. I bet some ice would help you there, make it easier to tuck inside.”

  “Fuck.” Beach breathed the word. The throb in his dick faded at the threat.

  “Better.” Tai jerked the briefs up, and Beach winced.

  Slacks and his belt followed, Tai fastening everything.

  It had only been a tease, then. Beach looked at the gleam peeking out of the box. He supposed that was good, since he’d had no idea how he could sweet-talk Mrs. Dougherty into competing for a new azalea variety when his attention was on his ass. But he couldn’t prevent a sigh of disappointment.

  “You look like you oughta be in a magazine.” Tai checked him over.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now go grab the lube and bring me the plug.”

  Beach startled into obedience. The steel was heavier than it looked. Not too large or thick, but with the curve and weight, there was no way Beach would be unaware of it. The illicit thrill of it made the hair on his body stand up, mind locked into a refrain of This is happening.

  Tai unbuckled Beach’s belt, unzipped his trousers. “You’re my submissive, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You wear my cuffs, and now you’re going to wear this. Every time you move, you’ll know who you belong to. Bend over the back of the couch.”

  Beach would have traded the Nancy for one minute of attention to his aching dick, but all Tai did was drag the elastic of the briefs over it again as he exposed Beach’s ass and spread the cheeks.

  “This stays in until I take it out, except for a call of nature. If you disobey, you won’t come for a week.”

  The tip pushed, making Beach push back to fit it in. “Yes, Sir.” He tried to spread his legs, but they were pinned by his slacks.

  Tai shoved it in with an eye-watering stretch that subsided quickly into a sweet burn. Despite taking Tai’s dick up his ass a couple of nights a week, there was always that first resistance, the shock and scrape as his body adjusted. The plug was smaller, and the narrow neck meant his muscles could relax. The loop that made up the base settled smoothly against Beach’s skin, tucked close to his body. Tai tugged and shifted the plug, sending pleasure rippling out from where the smooth ball rolled across Beach’s gland, then stepped back.

  Beach straightened, ass closing, clenching, sending off another wave inside. He closed his eyes. Fully dressed for a party and fucked at the same time. Not just fucked. Owned. Tai would be in him no matter where Beach went or who he talked to. He wanted to drop to his knees, but whether he would thank Tai or beg him to take it out, Beach didn’t know.

  Even in silence, with every breath, every move, Tai demanded and Beach—David gave. “You make that face when I’m in you.” Tai put a hand on Beach’s cheek.

  “You are, Sir.”

  “Good boy. Go make me proud.”

  MONTGOMERY MANOR fronted the water, and today that brought breezes that kept the July sun from being brutal as it gleamed on the guests and the flowers and the caterers. Everything was the height of elegance. Even the breeze displayed enough etiquette to flutter the table linens while refraining from disruptive force. Beach tried to maintain equal standards by not emitting moans and keeping his program or jacket angled to hide the constant interest his dick had in the sensations from his ass.

  He escorted Mrs. Dougherty along the table where the cultivars were displayed, either in picture or in person. “Just think of how this shade will draw attention to the veranda. It complements your hydrangeas perfectly.”

  “They don’t bloom at the same time, dear. But I’m flattered you remember the hydrangeas.”

  Since he’d hidden in them when he was sneaking out of their house one night—he hadn’t known the Doughertys’ daughter Julia had gotten married in London—they were rather prominent in his memory.

  “Your gardens have always been a special part of any visit, ma’am.”

  “Your Southern charm will be the death of me, and call me Lydia.”

  Beach flipped open the cream-colored leather auction folder. “Perhaps I should put a bid on them. My aunt would like them.” Knowing which levers to push, Beach drew his finger down the list of bids so Lydia’s eyes would follow.

  Her gasp was as predictable as it was satisfying. “If that… that arriviste Sierra thinks she’ll buy her way into the Francis Scott Key Azalea Society with that, she is sadly mistaken.” Lydia wrote an impressive figure on the next line and signed with a flourish.

  Gavin had definitely known what he was doing, not providing numbers to the bidders.

  The competition was only enhanced by seeing the names of the competitors.

  “It is a striking color.” Someone brushed by, jostling him, and his muscles gripped, awakening a fresh round of heat to flush his face.

  “Beach, I have never seen you so passionate.” She pulled him down to buss his cheek. “Your mother would be thrilled to see you taking an interest. She loved her gardens.”

  Beach tried to politely point out that his mother was not dead, just in France—well, the last he knew. “I’m sure she’s quite busy with her lilies in Lille.”

  “That was dreadful, Beach.” She laughed and shoved lightly at his upper arm, creating a new shift inside him. Following the torture of the car ride, after which he had needed to hold a cup of ice against his lap to make himself decent, he’d adjusted to the feeling of the smooth weight resting at such an intriguingly pleasant angle inside. In fact, he’d almost convinced himself he was in control, that he could ignore it as long as he wasn’t moving, but then he’d catch himself clenching because he missed it. Missed the mark of Tai’s possession, his presen
ce. It wasn’t only the thrill of getting away with all but having sex under everyone’s nose; it was having Tai here, so close that Beach expected to feel the rumble of Tai’s voice or the solid brace of his hands at any moment.

  Like the leather bands Beach kept tugging his cuffs down to conceal, the constant prod and shift inside reminded him that he belonged to Tai. Yielding that much control gave Beach more freedom than he’d ever had, even steering the Nancy out to sea.

  He wanted to give something to Tai in exchange. “Lydia, I wonder if I might ask your opinion of this particular breeder.”

  One item at auction was the opportunity to work with a breeder for exclusive rights to a rose cultivar, including the choice of name to appear on the official registry. Not that Beach had noticed Tai having any particular appreciation for flowers, but he might enjoy giving that to Sammie, or his mother. Beach would claim Tai had purchased it with the donation check Beach still needed to turn over to Gavin. Beach tightened his ass again and bit back a sigh. He was looking forward to that conversation.

  Lydia read over the details. “The breeder is new, but his work is getting good attention. I heard he’s light in the loafers himself, which would explain the generous donation.”

  I don’t have to personally experience an injustice to want to correct it, David.

  “Not that it isn’t a wonderful thing Gavin is doing for those children,” Lydia amended.

  “Of course not.”

  Lydia lifted the bidding folder and opened it. Her razor-thin brows rose. “Apparently the rest of the bidders think highly of his work.”

  Beach looked at the last number. He didn’t recognize the name of the bidder, but the number made a salient impression. Still, it was for a good cause, and his father hadn’t contacted him about the money. He raised the bid to six hundred thousand and signed off, thinking of Tai’s expression when he realized he could have a flower named after his daughter.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

  “I can never resist that drawl of yours.” She tapped him with her purse. “Now, be a good boy and bring me some champagne.”