Everything else he’d sold or given away. Less to move, less to unload. He didn’t need much and could live out of boxes for a while as he slowly rebuilt his life from scratch.
Literally.
It was easier this way.
It was late Saturday afternoon when he crossed the state line into Florida and he had to pull over, both to rest and to feed Zee her late afternoon bottle and change her because she’d started fussing south of Valdosta. So he stopped at the visitor center, grabbed what he needed from her bag, and carried her over to a shaded picnic table to take care of her.
As he cradled her in his arms and fed her, he once again tried not to cry. In these times, when forced to simply be and focus on her, it was impossible not to think about Mackie, to hear her voice in his memories, the things they’d planned to do together as a family.
A family she’d longed for, one she’d never have now.
The joy on her face at every doctor appointment when they’d watched the ultrasound screen and saw their daughter, healthy and growing before their eyes.
To not turn bitter at how unfair this was for her to not be here. For the joy he’d thought he’d never experience again in his life to be ripped from him.
They hadn’t settled the name question yet when Zee was born. Mackie had wanted to wait to hold their daughter, to see her face. In the immediate aftermath of labor and delivery, she’d understandably collapsed to sleep and she was going to decide the next morning.
But then she’d died only a few hours after Zee’s birth, and he’d had to give them a name for her birth certificate.
It was only fitting her daughter bear her name with the slight change from Lee to Leanne, to honor Mackie’s beloved grandmother, but he’d never call her Mackie.
His daughter would always be Zee.
She would hopefully go on to succeed at whatever she wanted to do or be, and he would, as her father, love her and protect her and support her and encourage her.
He would pray for her. Maybe even pray with her, if she decided to walk that spiritual path.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he tried to blink back tears.
Damn, it felt like all he’d done over the last three weeks was cry.
“Daddy’s a wreck right now, baby, but I promise I’ll try to get my act together fast so I don’t let you down.”
* * * *
Douglas felt so exhausted that he took his time heading south. It was after ten that night when he finally reached the long-stay hotel and pulled into their parking lot.
Thank You, God.
He’d take the small miracle.
He unfastened Zee’s carrier from the carseat base and headed into the office to check in. Twenty minutes later, he’d found their room, double-parked behind other cars, and had started unloading stuff that he’d need for now while Zee remained safely strapped in her carrier and asleep in the room. He’d packed things like clothes, her portable crib, all those kinds of items, near the back of the trailer where they were readily accessible.
Once he had those basics unloaded, he felt a wave of guilt but locked the hotel room door, leaving her inside the room. He quickly moved his SUV and the trailer, returning to the room at a dead run from where he’d parked, and making it back less than two minutes later.
To find her still blissfully asleep.
After texting Doyle and Niall to let them know he was finally in Florida, and his room number at the hotel, he quickly assembled Zee’s portable crib and prepared everything before removing her from her carrier, changing her, and lying in bed, holding her for a while before moving her to the portable crib.
He had her big crib, disassembled, in the trailer.
That had been…excruciating. With their limited budget, Mackie had gone to great pains to make every purchase count, and had endlessly researched items before buying them. He’d fumbled and sworn, but didn’t let her help him assemble the crib. He’d relegated her to watching and giggling at him as he’d finally gotten it put together and checked to make sure it was secure while she filmed him and took pictures.
She probably could have assembled it in a fraction of the time, because she was great with things like that and he wasn’t. But he’d wanted to do it, begged her to let him do it, and she had.
Then, as her reward for his hard work, she’d led him to their bed and made love to him.
One of the last things he’d done before moving was disassemble the crib, sobbing as he removed every screw and bolt, taking lots of pictures and making notes as he carefully bagged everything so he wouldn’t lose them.
Douglas stumbled into the hotel bathroom and broke down, crumbling to his knees next to the tub and sobbing again at the memories.
That had been not even five weeks ago he’d put the crib together.
Five weeks ago, he’d had a wife, a baby on the way, a life. Maybe not the fanciest life, but they’d been okay, they’d had love, and they’d had each other.
He’d finally reached a modicum of peace with his life and his fate and his future.
And now…
Other than a baby and a job, he honestly wasn’t sure what he had anymore.
He finally dragged himself to his feet and took a shower, then collapsed onto the bed, Zee’s travel crib right next to the side, where he could look down on her without having to get up.
God, why did you give me such joy and finally start to heal my heart only to rip it all from my grasp? It’s not fair. How much more will I lose? Please don’t take her from me. I’d rather die than lose her. She’s all I have left.
It was only sheer exhaustion that allowed him to finally drop into sleep.
Chapter Five
Around eight o’clock Saturday morning, Connor awakened alone in his room at the Toucan. Barry had left sometime after midnight, after they’d both napped. The man would be checking out this morning because he’d been called in to work for tonight. Turned out he was a phlebotomist at a local hospital, and they’d had someone call in with a death in the family.
It surprised Connor a little to realize how bummed out that made him feel, that his play with Barry was over.
Which immediately made him chastise himself on the back side of that.
Stop it. He’s just another guy.
Although he had given the guy his work number, and e-mail, and Barry had given Connor his cell and e-mail, with the open-ended offer that he’d love to play with Connor again.
But the guy lived up here, in St. Pete…
With his elderly parents.
So it wasn’t like Connor could pop up to Barry’s place for a quickie in the middle of the day.
Maybe that’s for the best.
Connor finally dragged himself out of bed and hit the shower. He wasn’t going to bother shaving today. He’d head downstairs for breakfast and a little poolside time before scouting his next prospective play partner.
Unless someone propositioned him first.
He pulled on swim trunks and a T-shirt that had a spoof of a scene from The Walking Dead on it—two hospital doors braced shut and with the warning DON’T OPEN - SADIST INSIDE written on them.
He’d either have some interesting conversations, or maybe meet someone worth playing with simply because of their sense of humor.
Kinda backfired on him, though. He got stopped eight times before actually making it to the restaurant, people who were more interested in talking The Walking Dead than they were hooking up or playing.
Normally, the conversations wouldn’t be an issue, except he wanted his fucking coffee before trying to…people.
An hour later, he’d had breakfast, a third cup of coffee, and he sat in a lounger in the pool courtyard with five guys sitting around him and talking.
Four of them Tops, and one of them the husband of one of the Tops.
Sigh.
Connor was about to excuse himself to head to his room to change when one of the Tops spotted someone and waved him over.
“Dude, come here
The guy was slender but looked like he was over thirty, at least. He wore board shorts and no shirt, his right nipple pierced. Connor couldn’t tell what color his eyes were because of the guy’s sunglasses, but his short brown hair was nearly buzzed at the sides and kind of spiky on top.
The man smiled. “That’s cool.” He stuck out his hand. “Brennan.”
He shook with him. “Connor.”
Another thirty minutes later, and the others had either drifted away or became entangled in their own conversations while Connor and Brennan talked. Brennan had even taken his sunglasses off at one point, and the man’s brown eyes focused squarely on Connor.
Whew.
Because he really wanted to play with the guy, and grey eyes would have totally killed it for him.
Finally, Brennan tipped his head toward the rooms. “Got my test results with me, in my wallet.”
Connor smiled. “Then let’s retire to my room to talk some more, shall we?”
Turned out Brennan was very subby, very masochistic, and very flexible.
Flexible as in ankles-behind-his-neck positions, not as in Top-bottom positions.
Because Brennan made that part very clear once they were alone in Connor’s room. “I’m totally a bottom. I’m not vers.” He dug a piece of paper from his wallet.
“Excellent, because I’m a Top.” Connor traded papers with him. He wasn’t about to clarify his only exception to that rule for Brennan, because it didn’t matter, in this case.
Wasn’t this guy, wouldn’t ever likely be an issue for him again, so no reason to make a federal case over it.
They returned each other’s test results. “No cutting, no breath play, no shit or piss.” Brennan emptied his pockets, leaving his wallet and phone and sunglasses on the dresser. “Other than that, I’m yours to play with all day today.”
Connor slowly smiled. “Challenge accepted.”
* * * *
As he usually did, Connor let the guy go through his toybag and remove anything he didn’t want used on him.
The guy was a total champ—he didn’t take anything off the table.
An hour later, Connor had left lovely marks all over Brennan’s ass and thighs, and had the guy tied up in the second position he’d put him in.
And Brennan was begging to be fucked and allowed to come.
Except Connor was having too much fun with him to let the guy blow this soon.
Right now, the guy was ass-up against the headboard with his arms bound behind him and his ankles literally tied around his shoulders, holding him open and immobile so Connor could fuck the guy’s face while easily adding more stripes to his ass and thighs.
Also allowed him to do some CBT to the guy—which he’d found the guy loved.
Even better.
But Connor also didn’t let himself come in the guy’s mouth. He wasn’t quite sure how he wanted to lose his load to the bendy bottom, but he knew he wanted to keep playing with him for a while.
So he wrapped the guy’s six-inch cock and low-hanging balls with a silicone cock ring he had and started biting the insides of his thighs, loving every pained moan and begging plea rolling from the guy’s lips. A puddle of pre-cum dripped down the guy’s chest, along his neck, and Connor scooped it up with his fingers and fed it to the guy, who eagerly sucked and licked Connor’s fingers like they were his cock.
“Hope you didn’t have any plans for this afternoon,” Connor told him.
Brennan let out a pained laugh as Connor cupped and squeezed his balls again. “Nah, man. I’m happy right here. But I have to check out early in the morning. I need to run home and pack for a flight tomorrow afternoon for work.”
“That sucks. Maybe I should beat you for that.” He used one of his carbon fiber “pain sticks” along the insides of the guy’s thighs.
“Aw, fuck!” But he didn’t safeword.
Which meant Connor kept going.
And going.
Connor untied him and let him flex and stretch before tying him again, this time on his back, head hanging over the edge of the bed. That allowed Connor the ability to fuck the man’s mouth again, making him take Connor’s cock all the way to the root while he used a gloved and lubed hand to milk the man’s prostate. Since Brennan still wore the jelly cockring, it took a lot longer to make the guy blow than it normally would, and was a frustratingly unsatisfying orgasm for the bendy bottom as well.
Meaning Connor was loving the hell out of it, especially the needy moans rolling from the guy and through his own cock.
All that torture also making the other man hard again almost immediately and had him begging for more.
Damn.
Two viable repeat playmates in one weekend was definitely something of a record for Connor.
Maybe my luck is finally changing.
Then the guy’s cell rang and he mumbled what sounded like red around Connor’s cock. Connor immediately pulled out.
“Can you grab that and bring it here so I can answer it? I need to take that. Sorry.”
“Sure.
Connor stripped his right glove off inside-out and snagged the phone, swiping to answer the call for him and holding it up to the guy’s face. This wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing to happen to Connor during sex or play—or sexy play—but he admired the guy’s dedication to his job that he was willing to interrupt his fun time for a phone call.
“Anderson. … Yeah, I have my confirmation number and everything. … Yes, I know how to check in online and—” The guy let out an aggravated sigh. “Kelly, I know. Stop. I don’t understand why you’re calling me about this today and not sending me an e-mail. … Look, no offense, Kelly, but I’m involved in some personal time right now, and you and I will be having a discussion about this next week when I return to the office. I told you last time not to call me when I’m out of the office unless it’s an emergency. Either e-mail me, or let it wait until I check in. Good-bye.”
He nodded to Connor, who ended the call for him and returned the phone to the dresser.
“Sorry about that,” Brennan said. “I’m going to have to let her go, I just know it.”
“Why?”
“Oh, she’s new. Only been with us for a month. I hired her against my better instincts, and that’s the last fucking time I do that. My administrative assistant is going on maternity leave next month. Kelly’s supposed to fill in for her, then later, I was going to move her over to personnel to work there. Unfortunately, I think she’s smitten with me. Comes up with any and every excuse she can think of to call me at home or when I’m out.”
“Does she know you’re gay?”
“My personal life isn’t up for discussion, especially with my employees. All my other employees know that. But no, it’s not a secret I’m gay. I just don’t want to invite any kind of hostile workplace lawsuit by getting into those kinds of discussions with my employees. Become a forensic accountant, they said,” he muttered. “It’ll be damn good money, they said.”
Connor struggled not to let feelings of inadequacy try to creep in. “I take it that’s what you do?”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m flying out tomorrow, to a job in Washington state. Company fired their comptroller and are trying to figure out the full extent of the fuckery. I need to be on-site for a job that size so I can go through everything there and take copies of records back with me. Fuck.”
Even the guy’s cock had wilted.
“Did you want to stop?” Connor asked.
“Fuck no. Now I need to be beaten even harder.” He smiled up at Connor. “For the record, you are the best Top I’ve been with in years.”
“Good to hear.” He shoved his cock down the guy’s throat, enjoying the needy moan he earned in reply. Connor smiled down at him. “Then get back to sucking on that while I torture you some more.”
* * * *
It was late in the afternoon when the two of them came up for air. Connor had fucked a load into the guy’s ass without letting him come again, but Brennan was in no hurry to leave.
“Lunch is on me if you want to go pick something up for us from downstairs,” Connor offered.
Connor had envisioned this weekend more as a non-stop buffet. Except now that he’d found his groove with the cute guy, he kind of wanted more time with him.
“Sure.”
Connor handed him money, and they traded phone numbers before Brennan headed out, in case he had a question about what Connor wanted while he was down there. Connor noticed the other man grabbed his wallet but conspicuously left his room key, sunglasses, and a couple of other items from his pockets on the dresser.
Clear indication he was definitely coming back.
Connor took his phone into the bathroom while the guy was gone to quickly call home before he needed to take care of a little business.
Twenty minutes later, Brennan was back with their food and they sat, naked, on the bed to eat with the TV on. “So what do you do?” Brennan asked.
“Service manager at a luxury auto dealership.”
“Oh, nice! Mercedes?”
Connor used his thumb to indicate pricier.
“Excellent. Bet that pays nice.”
Connor shrugged. “It’s a living.”
“Man, I can barely change a damn tire. I almost killed myself trying to change a lightbulb in my ceiling fan once.”
Connor snorted. “How’d you manage that?”
Brennan laughed. “Alcohol might have been a contributing factor.”
* * * *
It was close to midnight when Brennan finally returned to his own room, and only because he needed to get some sleep before his flight the next afternoon. They’d both busted their nuts several times, and Connor had actually asked Brennan to give him a call when he got back into town.
-->