Be himself.
Feel truly…free.
After dinner, they once again held hands and made their way down to the courtyard area, where a huge statue in the fountain towered over the entrance. Boyd walked over and sat on the edge, pulling Caleb down to sit next to him, ignoring the other people in the waning light.
“I know we still have a ways to go before we can be open. But there’s one thing I want you to have now, if you want it.”
Boyd’s hand dipped into his pocket and emerged holding a bracelet. He fastened it around Caleb’s right wrist, then brought it to his lips and kissed it before his gorgeous blue eyes focused on Caleb’s.
“I love you. The first step, the thing I can do, right now, to show you how I feel, is collar you. I want to officially collar you later, in front of our friends so I can publicly show how I feel, but right now I felt I needed you to have something to remind you how I feel.”
His fingers gently squeezed Caleb’s hand. “I swear to you I’ll take care of you. I’ll never lie to you, I’ll always put you first in my life. I’m not asking you to give me more right now than you’re willing to give, but I wanted you to know how I feel. Please tell me you’ll accept my collar and wear it and be my slave.”
Caleb blinked, trying to clear the sudden tears blurring his vision. The chainmaille bracelet was made with blue and silver rings interlocking in an intricate pattern. He found himself nodding even as he stared at it.
“I want to be yours, Sir.” He looked up to find tears in Boyd’s eyes. “All I want to be is yours.”
Boyd smiled and cupped Caleb’s cheek with his free hand, leaning in and kissing him.
If Boyd didn’t give a shit who could see them, neither would Caleb. He lost himself in the kiss, a relatively chaste one considering how they’d devoured each other over the past week.
Boyd rested his forehead against Caleb’s. “I promise we’ll get through this. I’ll keep a close eye out for a transfer for you. I just need you to be patient.”
He squeezed Boyd’s hand. “I will, Sir. I promise.”
The corner of his mouth curved in a sexy smile. “Such a good boy. My good boy.”
Caleb’s cock throbbed inside his slacks. “Do we have to stay for a movie, Sir?” he whispered.
Boyd grinned. “Saaaaadist,” he said, pointing at himself. “Yes, we do. We came up here to be a normal couple.” His smile faded. “I don’t want to cheat you out of any experiences. I don’t want you wondering a few years from now what it might have been like with someone else. I want you to have every opportunity to back out if you decide I’m not who you really want.”
“That won’t happen, Sir.”
“How can you be certain? I’m the first guy you’ve been with.”
“Because like a smart man once said, if that was really an issue, you wouldn’t even be worrying about it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Monday morning, Boyd sat at his desk and tried to focus on his e-mail. The two of them had spent most of Sunday up in St. Pete at Fort De Soto Park, and they were both a little sunburned, very exhausted, and Boyd had realized he’d never felt more at peace than he now did.
A lot of fear accompanied that revelation, sure, because he still worried how Caleb might feel about him when they could finally be open and public.
I’m willingly back in the closet at thirty-nine. How the fuck did I get here?
At least he wasn’t there alone.
While they walked along the beach yesterday, Caleb had opened up a little about his family, but not much. It was a topic Boyd didn’t want to push him on because he could see it upset him.
He also wasn’t going to force Caleb to come out to them. They’d handle any situation dealing with them as it arose. Caleb’s family had no clue about their relationship, because the only interaction he had with them was through Facebook and the occasional phone call, usually from his mom. And while he and Caleb were friends on Facebook, they obviously hadn’t changed their relationship statuses there.
He just wished Ella would respond to him.
Boyd had tried to focus on work again when his personal cell rang.
Kent.
“So how’s my favorite sadist doing today?”
Boyd sat back in his chair. “I’m officially off the market, if that tells you anything.”
“Mazel tov! When’s the wedding?”
“We still have to keep things on the down-low because of work, but you will be the first person to get an invite.”
“So I guess that means you two are keeping things really quiet, huh?”
“We’re going up to Pinellas to do things, if that tells you anything.”
“The Toucan?”
“No.” He told Kent about their weekend. Saturday, they’d spent the morning browsing Haslam’s bookstore before going to see a play late that afternoon.
“You know, this is actually perfect,” Kent said. “I wanted to invite you guys over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“I don’t know if we’re in a party kind of mood. We’re still nesting.”
“Nah, not that kind of dinner. Going out on the boat with Tim and Paul and a couple of other vanilla people. Wanted to know if you guys wanted to come with. Sunset dinner. Going to grill steaks.”
“Boat?”
“Yeah. Didn’t I ever tell you about my boat?”
“No, you didn’t.” Seems there was a lot he didn’t know about Kent.
“Yeah. Look, I’ll e-mail you the marina address. Just bring yourselves. Shorts, nothing fancy.”
Now Boyd was confused. “So what’s the occasion if it’s not one of your usual events?”
“We just landed a big contract and want to celebrate. Plus it’s my sister’s birthday. They’re here from out of town, and I wanted to take her and my brother-in-law out. The more, the merrier. Won’t run real late, either.”
“Okay. We’ll be there.”
Boyd had already received Kent’s e-mail when he returned home that evening and told Caleb about it.
“So…it’s not a sex party?” Caleb looked confused.
“I know, right? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“I want to, Sir. Something for us to do together.”
“Yeah.”
But the next evening, as Boyd parked where the e-mail told him to and he stared at the boat’s slip, he wondered how much there was he didn’t know about Kent.
“That’s a huge boat!” Caleb whispered, as if afraid to say it too loudly.
“I think technically that’s called a yacht, when the slip rent probably runs more than double—or more—my monthly mortgage payment. Come on.”
* * * *
Caleb knew Kent was rich, just from where the man lived.
But this?
The cabin cruiser was probably close to forty feet long, and there were already several people there when they arrived, including Tim and Paul.
As soon as Kent spotted them, he smiled and waved them aboard, quickly handling introductions. Once a few more people arrived, they got underway, Paul helping Kent with the boat’s lines.
At least the assembled group of people were no one that Boyd and Caleb knew, outside of Tim and Paul, and from how Tim and Paul sat holding hands, it was obvious no one cared they were gay.
Caleb found himself relaxing and enjoying the evening breeze as they headed out the channel and toward the Gulf. He’d never been on a boat like this before, and had never taken a boat ride into the Gulf, either.
At one point, Kent invited Caleb and Boyd up to the flybridge, to chat with him as he drove.
No one was up there with them, and with the music playing below, and the breeze from their progress, they had relative privacy to talk.
Kent grinned. “So how’s your Daddy treating you?”
Caleb felt heat flush his cheeks, but he smiled up at Boyd. “I think we’re doing great.” He held out his wrist so Kent could see the bracelet.
He hadn’t called B
oyd that, but it was something he’d considered talking to him about. It held a sweetly naughty connotation that appealed to him.
Kent slapped Boyd on the back. “Congratulations! About time you did that. Mark my words, everything will work out fine.”
“We just have to keep playing it safe at work,” Boyd said. “As long as we do that, it’ll be okay.”
“Can’t even say I’m unhappy things didn’t work out a slightly different way.” Tonight Kent wore shorts and a fisherman’s shirt with the vented back flap, and expensive leather boat shoes. He dropped his voice. “Glad to see Daddy and his boy are happy.”
Caleb cuddled close to Boyd and smiled up at him. “I know I’m happy, Daddy.”
Boyd playfully rolled his eyes before leaning in for a kiss from Caleb. “Is that a request for a title change?”
“Maaaaaybe.”
Boyd draped his arm around Caleb’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Then Daddy’s good boy better not expect to fall asleep too soon tonight because I’m going to want a little something in return.”
Caleb shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cool breeze off the water. “Yes, Daddy,” he whispered.
Boyd’s throaty chuckle hardened Caleb’s cock. Then Boyd nipped his earlobe. “Love you, Cay.”
“Love you, too, Boyd.”
As they watched the sun sinking on the far horizon, Caleb knew the wait was worth it.
Boyd was worth it.
And fuck anyone who didn’t like it, because there wasn’t anything in the world that would ever make him give up this happiness, or his Daddy.
Not a damn thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Boyd lay stretched out on the sofa that Sunday evening, watching TV with Caleb dozing on top of him, Boyd’s legs hooked around and over Caleb’s. He’d worn his poor boy out earlier and left a whole new set of stripes on his ass, and a load of his cum inside it.
The past several weeks had been the best of his life, and he knew with certainty he was with the man he’d spend the rest of his life with.
Life is good.
Sir…Master…
Daddy.
Caleb was enjoying exploring more aspects of his own personality. There were times they were the hard-playing Master and slave, the more formal Sir and boy…
And then there were the times Caleb dropped into “Daddy” mode. He was still Boyd’s boy, but more playful, fun-loving, a hint of the man he likely would have been had his parents been open and accepting and allowed him to embrace the guy he should have been able to be all along. It didn’t bother Boyd when Caleb called him that, either.
He liked knowing Cay felt that safe with him, able to express himself.
Except…
He shoved away thoughts of Ella. Her Facebook and Fet accounts were dormant, and had been ever since the night she’d talked to him at the restaurant. She didn’t have a location listed on her Facebook account, and Antarctica on Fet. Nothing on either account that he could use to try to track her down, either, no pictures or posts or check-ins—nothing.
Hell, he didn’t even know if she’d used her real name for the Facebook account. It easily could have been a fake name, and he hadn’t decided if he wanted to ask Ed for help in tracking her down, either. He knew an approximate timeframe of when she would have been born, and if she was born in Fargo, he could have a search run on Helen’s name in an attempt to find Ella’s real name.
He hadn’t called her again, either. Besides, he didn’t know if the number he had for her was a burner cell, or maybe even an Internet VOIP number that was easily discarded.
Why try? She didn’t want to talk to him, or she was trying to make him beg and grovel.
Either way, he could take a hint. He wouldn’t violate her consent and hammer her for the first, and he wasn’t going to play her game if it was the second.
Or maybe she had a whole family of her own. Maybe she had a husband and kids and had never even told them she’d found him…
Maybe he was a grandfather.
If so, maybe he didn’t want to know about them, especially if he’d never get to meet them, to know them.
To hold and love them.
To have a family again.
Maybe it was best not to know. Less cruel to his heart. He could maintain a kind of indifference in the face of ambiguity.
Besides, he had his hands full with Caleb. They still had to be damned careful, until it was possible for Caleb to make a lateral transfer to another department if a position opened with equal or better pay. Something not under him. Then it wouldn’t matter if anyone knew about them, because he wouldn’t be Caleb’s supervisor.
Until then, they had to be soooo fucking careful.
Worth.
It.
He didn’t even miss fucking around with other guys at Kent’s parties, even though they’d attended a couple. Strings-free sex, no matter how good or with how many people, could never compare to what he and Caleb had. They’d also attended a couple of private Suncoast Society play parties, where Boyd knew their privacy was assured, and Caleb could wear a hood all night without it arousing suspicion. To those, they could ride together. Nights at Venture, they arrived separately, Caleb first and donning his hood—and looking around to make sure he didn’t know anyone from work—Boyd arriving a few minutes later and also scoping out the attendees before approaching Caleb and playing with him.
This could work.
It would work.
He’d make it work.
He wouldn’t give up Caleb. He couldn’t.
He couldn’t walk away, and if it made him a horrible, selfish person, he’d own it. Everyone thought he was such a nice guy, a pushover. Maybe the two extremes of his personality canceled each other out.
Regardless, he owned Caleb and wouldn’t stop owning him.
They couldn’t openly live together, though, until Caleb transferred. That was a technicality, though, because Caleb had basically moved in with him already, keeping his apartment for now and stopping by every day or two to grab his mail.
But he slept in Boyd’s bed every night.
Every fucking night.
Couldn’t marry him yet though—and he was fucking marrying the boy. Not until a work transfer. He hadn’t officially proposed to Caleb yet, but both of them were talking about the future not in terms of “what if,” but in concrete affirmatives, as if a life together was already a given.
Hell, most of Caleb’s stuff was already at Boyd’s house.
They simply had to bide their time. Even if all Caleb did was transfer over to Zoning, that would be enough. They were separate departments, even if they were related and worked closely together. And Caleb had more previous experience in Zoning than he did in Planning, anyway. So it would make sense if he transferred. Shit like that happened frequently and no one would bat an eye at it. People switched from one department to the other if someone quit or had to take extended leave, or one department was buried and needed an extra person but there wasn’t the budget or position to hire someone new.
As head of Planning, Boyd would be the one the head of Zoning came to and asked about personnel. Naturally he’d recommend Caleb as an excellent choice to transfer.
He could have patience.
He could have his boy.
His personal cell rang where it sat on the side table behind his head. He blindly groped for his phone and had accidentally answered the call before getting it to his face, so he didn’t know if it was personal or work. Likely work, based on the other four calls he’d already fielded that evening ahead of the workshop next week.
He opted to default to professional. “Boyd Nyberg.”
The caller hesitated so long he thought maybe the call had dropped or been a wrong number. “Hi,” she softly said. “It’s…it’s Ella.”
The sudden pounding in his chest shoved all vestiges of sleep from his system. “Hi. I’m glad you called.”
He let her talk, let her have her hesi
tations, didn’t try to fill the silences. Caleb had awakened and while he didn’t lift his head, he looked up at him, curiosity on his face but not interrupting.
“I…I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you,” she finally said. “I needed time to…process.”
“It’s okay,” he gently said.
“I…” She sniffled. “I guess I’d built you up in my mind to be some cold, jerk of a monster. Then you weren’t. I thought you’d raised kids with someone else, and you didn’t have a family.” A tearful laugh. “You were gay.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, but…” More sniffles. “Mom really loved you,” she quietly said. “I believed in all her fantasies about one day finding you and us being a family. When I was little. Then when I was older, I saw my friends’ parents get divorced and figured you were just a jerk who knocked her up and left her, but she never thought that about you.
“I…” A choked sob. “I thought I’d find you and all the anger and rage I had about you would be justified. I’d scream at you and storm out and finally feel like I’d let you have it. And…you weren’t that guy at all. Every time I saw you, talked to you, you were always so…nice.”
Boyd tried blinking back tears and then closed his eyes to focus on her voice, calling her face to mind. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you both. I wish I’d known. I’m so sorry.”
“See, that’s what I mean. You’re so damn…nice. I didn’t think you’d be nice. I didn’t think I’d like you. So my last-ditch effort to hold on to my rage was to drop it on you that I was yours, and I just knew you’d deny it, demand a DNA test or something. Laugh in my face. Tell me to fuck off, no kids for you. I never expected you to…”
“To what?” he gently asked when she didn’t continue.
“I never expected you to say you were sorry. To look like you were about to start crying when I told you. Hell, I never expected you to even remember Mom’s name. I had thought she’d be just one of many women. But she wasn’t. She was the only woman.”
“Where are you?” he asked. “Can I please come talk to you tonight?”
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