Bad Behavior

by K.A. Mitchell

  David turned. “I mean, she gets to—or you get to—design it. The species is set, but you can specify color and shade and name it after her. It will go in an official registry of rose cultivars. Latinus somethingus ‘Samantha’. Or ‘Sammie’ if she wants that.”

  Tai knew he should be saying something, but his jaw was locked, aching as his throat swelled. He knew David wasn’t ungenerous. He’d hosted a friend who could have obviously afforded a hotel. But this was different. It was for Tai’s baby girl.

  “Between your contribution and my five hundred dollars, we managed that, huh?” David went still. Tai squeezed him in a hug. “Thank you. It was incredibly thoughtful. She’ll be ecstatic.”

  David relaxed again. “Well, I figured if she wasn’t a flower fan, you could give it to your mom.”

  “I suppose I should be glad it wasn’t a horse auction.”

  David laughed.

  “So, between buying a rose and driving off the road trying to put your seat belt on, what happened?”

  David shifted. “It’s kind of funny.”

  Tai had his doubts about that. “Really.”

  “I was feeling—well, a steel ball up my ass, and Gavin decided that my bright eyes and warm cheeks meant I was on something.”

  “And you told him it was more that something was in you?”

  “Not exactly. But he figured it out.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tai tucked David back under his chin.

  “I—It felt like sub drop. After that. Even though I hadn’t come.” Tai waited, guilt slithering sticky and hot under his ribs.

  “So when I felt it, I pulled over. I was going to call you, but it faded.”

  “Just like that.” Tai couldn’t keep his tone even.

  David started to shrug, then sat up. “I did stop and wait until I felt better. When I started driving again, I realized I hadn’t put my seat belt on. The other car was speeding.” David met Tai’s gaze and then shook his head. “Listen. That, whatever it was, that is not because of you. Not because of the butt plug or the conversation we had in Gavin’s bathroom.”

  Tai narrowed his eyes, feeling his brows pinch together. “Excuse me?”

  “You like to take control and God, I love—it, but it doesn’t mean that you can control everything.”

  “Where is that coming from?”

  “Gavin made me feel weird about us and the D/s. I let that get to me. Then I made the choice to start driving. And to try to put on my seat belt at the same time.” David tipped his head and looked steadily at Tai. “Not my best choices, though definitely not my worst. But they were mine. If you think….” David started to look away but checked himself. “If you think I let you down and I should be punished, then I accept that. But I don’t accept you feeling guilty.”

  The sticky feeling was annihilated by a blast of warmth. Damn. His boy was figuring it out. “C’mere.” David let Tai pull him back down. “I’m proud of you. That was some pretty good stuff.”

  “Thanks. So….” David picked at the nap of his towel. “Are you going to punish me?”

  “No.”

  David gulped and nodded. “Why not?”

  “Because you got there without it.”

  AFTER THE show on the side of the road, Tai didn’t figure they’d be seeing Gavin and his overbearing dick of a cop friend anytime soon. So David saying Gavin had invited them to dinner and to tour the building his foundation was buying came as a surprise.

  Gavin must’ve tightened Jamie’s leash quite a bit, because aside from general complaints about asshole boaters, asshole drivers, and asshole red tape as it applied to Gavin’s shelter, he could pass for civil if you graded on a curve.

  For the most part, Gavin and David carried the conversation, David telling exaggerated—or at least Tai hoped they were exaggerated—stories about past adventures. Jamie, the cop, rolled his eyes a lot, but when he glanced at Gavin, the sneer on his face softened to a patient almost-smile. Watching David work to draw a laugh from Gavin—and whatever passed for humor on Jamie—made Tai wonder why David hadn’t become aware of his submissive nature before this. He’d been the leader, especially in the riskier of the exploits he related, but a desire to please shone through all his interactions. When they were deciding over dessert, he shot Tai a glance, a request for permission that brought a spark of heat to Tai’s balls and electric power to his spine.

  He put his hand on David’s menu, pressing it onto the table as he lowered his own and told the waiter, “We’ll split the mousse trio.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes for at least the sixth time, but David grinned, making Tai wish they were enjoying room service in David’s hotel room, where Tai could take his time licking the chocolate and salted caramel off David’s lips. Under the table Tai rested a hand on David’s thigh. There was a twitch as David’s fidgeting stopped.

  Gavin ordered a brandied coffee, and Jamie added, “Make it two.”

  After the waiter left, David said, “I’m looking forward to being an adult again soon.”

  Jamie muttered, “Didn’t know you ever were,” as Gavin arched his brow and said, “Really?”

  David laughed. “I’ve never eaten so much dessert as I have with digestifs off the menu. I may have to be rolled in for my court date.”

  “You think you’ll just stroll back out with a fine? Get right back to partying like nothing happened?”

  David’s smile didn’t dim, though tension snapped into the muscle of his thigh under Tai’s hand. “Gavin paid a fine.”

  “He didn’t drag his best friend off the Key Bridge and then out to Fort Carroll.”

  “Plus the having sex with a cop at the time probably helped.”

  “Like your PO doesn’t ha—” Jamie cut off midsyllable and glanced at Gavin, though the other man hadn’t moved or made a sound.

  Tai suspected it was something similar to the squeeze he’d applied to David’s leg, but both Gavin’s hands were visible.

  The waiter returned with their desserts.

  Into the silence that followed, David said, “Jamie, I admit I wasn’t thinking clearly, either night.”

  “Yeah, GHB will do that to you,” Jamie grumbled into his coffee.

  David didn’t fight back. “It was stupid. Not our—my—usual kind of stupid either. I was fixed on this ridiculous idea that there was some proof of my father’s innocence on the island. If I’d stopped to think, I’d never have put Gavin at risk.”

  Jamie’s cup clattered into its saucer, but Gavin answered, “It’s fine, Beach.”

  “Jamie?” David ducked his head and flashed his dimples.

  It was decent of David to include him, especially as he wasn’t the wronged party, and if the bristling little prick turned him down, Tai would—

  “Fine, whatever.” Jamie spared Tai the necessity of deciding how far the testosterone battle would go. “Is this like a twelve-step thing?”

  “No.” David dug his spoon into the dark chocolate mousse but didn’t bring it to his mouth. “It’s only an apology. And a truce.” David shook his napkin as a white flag.

  Jamie stared at Tai instead of the napkin, like he was trying to figure out if someone else could be blamed instead.

  “Okay.”

  Gavin shifted the conversation onto the building he’d invited them to tour, thanking Tai again for his donation and interest.

  The building was downtown, on the east edge of Mount Vernon, which made sense if they hoped to provide beds and other options to the teenaged hustlers who worked a few blocks away.

  There were two parking spots on the alley side, and Gavin led them around to the front door, which he unlocked.

  “So you bought it?” David asked.

  “We did,” Gavin answered, though who the we involved wasn’t clear.

  The door led into a hall with two arched openings. “It’s important that it not look too institutional.” Gavin switched on the lights. Bare bulbs flared up immediately, chasing away the twilight. “We need to avoid a
ny association with the kind of places they’ve learned not to trust.”

  “The Gospel according to Blondie. I’m going to see if the exterminator fixed your rat problem in the kitchen.” Jamie stomped off down the hall.

  As they followed, Gavin explained, “I’m lucky enough to get insight from someone who could have benefited from the shelter if it was in place at the time.”

  “Ah.” David sounded as if he’d just worked out the identity of the killer in a mystery.

  “That should help,” Tai said, over the sounds of metal scraping against concrete, which he chalked up to Jamie’s inspection of the exterminator’s work.

  “I was thinking the office could be back here.” Gavin indicated a door.

  “Fuck,” Jamie barked from the kitchen.

  “If he’s locked himself in a refrigerator, I want to see it.” David ducked through the kitchen door.

  “I wonder if you’d give me your opinion on this, Tai.” Gavin pushed open the door. “We’re bound to get some residents who are working with Corrections.”

  Tai’s finely tuned bullshit detector red-lined, but he followed Gavin into the storeroom.

  What was it going to be? Tai was betting on something about the D/s. Didn’t figure it to be about boundaries or “our kind of people” with Jamie in the picture.

  Tai leaned against a shelf. “Spit it out.”

  Gavin smiled and held his hands in a pose of surrender. “Of course you’d see through that. Though I’d hope I could rely on you to steer potential residents our way.”

  “You could.” Tai waited for Gavin’s complaint. David’s friend’s expression was hard to read, a pleasant mask. It reminded Tai of the banter and humor David used when he was pushing away anything unpleasant, but it was far less animated.

  “You’re good for him.”

  That wasn’t what Tai was expecting. He straightened.

  “God, he was even on time for dinner tonight,” Gavin continued. “I don’t know if it’s the particular kind of relationship you have, but it’s good for him.”

  There was no disgusted emphasis to Gavin’s description, but Tai knew he hadn’t been singled out just for ego stroking.

  Gavin met Tai’s stare. “He’s calmer, for want of a better word. When I heard the restrictions for his pretrial release, I worried he’d do something crazy—or take off like his father.”

  “Do you know the whole story there?”

  Gavin gave a curt nod, jaw tight.

  “And you’ve never told him?”

  “I’d heard things, but Jamie pulled up the record after Beach and I were on Fort Carroll.”

  “So why not tell him, even what little you knew, to keep him off Fort Carroll? Or from doing ‘something crazy’ now?”

  Gavin didn’t step back, but his face became more of a mask. “If Beach wanted to know the truth, he would.”

  “You think you’re protecting him.”

  “Did you look into it?”

  “No. It’s his call.”

  “Or you’re protecting him too,” Gavin said.

  “The difference is I trust him to know what he wants. What he needs. Whether it’s protecting or ass-kicking.” Tai folded his arms and resumed his lean. “So what did you drag me in here to tell me?”

  “It’s difficult.” Gavin tucked his hands in his trouser pockets. “I’m very fond of Beach. And I can tell you have feelings for him too.”

  Feelings. What a way to describe the surge of lust and pride and owning and belonging and power and need that ripped through Tai every time he looked at David.

  Mine.

  “There’s no way to say this that doesn’t sound as if I’m running him down, but that’s not my intention. It’s simply who Beach is. He gets… fascinated. Intensely so. It isn’t that he’s insincere. But his passion burns up, and then he’s bored. If it weren’t for the monitor, he’d have taken the Nancy and been gone at the start of the summer. He never stays long in one place.”

  Gavin’s words introduced a surprising shock. In this hot, dusty room, icy shrapnel sliced strips of sensation away until numbness buzzed at the base of Tai’s skull.

  He shook it off, dragging feeling back with the heat of anger, though his voice still sounded far away. “If his friends act like this, why the fuck would he bother to stick around?”

  Gavin’s half smile was infuriating. “I’m glad you’re on his side.” Over Tai’s growled, “Someone should be,” Gavin went on, “But I am too.”

  “Funny way of showing it. And you’re telling me this because you want to protect me from him? I think I can take care of myself.”

  “I wouldn’t wish a broken… relationship on anyone. But I’m telling you this for Beach’s sake.”

  Tai clenched his jaw and nodded, the buzzing starting behind his ears again.

  “Beach is fond of grand gestures. As I guess his record shows. I’m afraid that when he feels he needs a fresh start, he’ll do something extreme to justify it. So when he decides to move on, what I’m saying is, please, let him go.”

  “Let him go? You think I—” But didn’t Tai want him collared, cuffed, want a fucking tattoo on David to let the world know he belonged to Tai? “You’ve known him a long time, right?”

  “More than twenty years.”

  “And the Nancy. How long has he had that boat?”

  “Ten years.” Gavin’s eyes widened, a tilt to his head as he acknowledged Tai’s point.

  “If David wants a fresh start, I won’t be hanging on to him. But maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  TAI MIGHT have gotten the last word, but that didn’t stop the questions tumbling through his head as he drove them back to pick up Jez before heading to David’s hotel.

  Just how well do you know David? Exactly how do your three and a half weeks stack up to twenty years?

  They spent as much time together as their schedules—Tai’s schedule—allowed, eating, talking, fucking. He had a change of clothes and a toothbrush at the hotel. Was that an example of how David avoided permanence?

  Tai wondered which would bore David first. Having a boyfriend? Not fucking women?

  The D/s?

  Tai could—he did—have vanilla sex. And he could have it with David. But Tai couldn’t turn off the part of him that demanded submission, wouldn’t stop wanting that surrender from David, drinking in the high of watching him control himself and then give it to Tai.

  Trying to cut off that part now would take a tourniquet, but one around his chest to cut off the blood flow to who he was. He’d tried to push it back before, with Donte, and made them both miserable. Maybe that was what being tied down would feel like to David. Vitality choked off, withering.

  “Okay, I know Jamie’s a total prick and it rubs off on Gavin sometimes. What did he say to you? It’s about the D/s, isn’t it? He’s been a little freaked about it, which is weird because he’s always been kind of adventurous when—”

  If Tai hadn’t been so preoccupied, he’d have noticed David wriggling in his seat before the word vomit. “He said I was good for you.”

  David went as still as Jez when Tai checked her on the leash. “Huh.” David settled back in his seat. “Then it must be true.”

  THERE WAS no reason on earth why Jez’s insistent nudges for Beach to reach back and pet her should trigger any connection with the acquisitions list of Midland-South Health, but that was when David remembered his plan.

  “Shit. Sorry.” At least they were still on the east side of the harbor. “I need to stop at the apartment for a suit. I forgot I had a meeting.”

  “With your lawyer?”

  Usually Beach liked Tai asking questions like that. It had always seemed like the worst part of relationships for his friends, that endless prying and accountability. The truth was no one had ever had the vaguest interest in where Beach was going before—unless it was to a party. But this question made the tiny clock ticking away to his sentencing d
ate next week chime like Big Ben. He tried to muffle it.

  “No. I decided I wanted to take a closer look at where the company was heading. Do more than show up at stockholder meetings and terrify administrators keeping you from your daughter.” Being more actively involved in the business—once he figured out exactly what it would entail—was something else he’d meant to present to Tai as a fait accompli.

  Arranging the meeting, Beach had pictured Tai’s lips curving, a rumble of praise from his throat. That went a ways to explaining why Jez’s demand for affection had triggered a reminder.

  We aren’t so very different, are we, girl? Beach rubbed under her chin.

  “Is this what you’ve been doing on your laptop?”

  “Yes.” Beach shouldn’t have been surprised that Tai had noticed, but it rushed heat under his skin. Not quite arousal, but still tingling pleasure.

  Tai reached over and squeezed the back of Beach’s neck. The rush got sweeter, better than any high modern chemistry could dream up. Nope, Jez. We really aren’t.

  As they turned onto the wharf, Beach said, “You can drop me off in front. The elevator’s faster than the garage, and I only need the top half of a suit.”

  Tai’s brows came to a sharp peak. “Excuse me?”

  Beach grinned as he climbed out. “It’s a video conference. They’ll never see my legs.”

  “Hmm. Maybe we should test your concentration and preparation.”

  The flush of blood went straight to his balls. Leaning in the open door, he said, “If y’all get your walk in now, we can have lots of time for practice.”

  IN EVERY real-estate purchase, Beach insisted on a clause that guaranteed no one had reported the property haunted. Even before he’d rented here, he’d checked into the history with the diligence he usually reserved for searching out the best bourbon distilleries. No one had died in the old warehouse that had been razed to make room for the apartment building. But as soon as Beach stepped off the elevator, he felt he wasn’t alone in the empty hall. Technically the house back in Aiken belonged to him, but he had never felt comfortable in it. Always felt watched, even when he was in it alone.