Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  “Food, color, music. We’ll have to have lunch and plan.”

  Tide grinned at Tyrone. “They’re going to throw the biggest party known to man.”

  “We haven’t had a good reason to party in too long,” Tyrone noted.

  “My boy is a very good reason to party.”

  “I’m pleased for you, man.” Tyrone beamed at him.

  “Here we go!” Their waiter was back with four champagne flutes and an ice bucket with the bottle of champagne. “Shall I do the honors, or would you like to?”

  “I’d like to.” Tide took the bottle when their waiter left, and worked open the cork.

  Lance applauded as he managed without a mess and it made him feel ten feet tall. Tide filled their glasses and held his up to make the toast. “To new beginnings, to being with the man you love.”

  He met Lance’s gaze and his boy nodded. “To us, Sir.”

  He was going to cream his jeans.

  Staring at Lance, Tide took a drink. Lance sipped, smiling over the rim of the glass. He reached over and ran his index finger across Lance’s lower lip. Lance kissed the tip of his finger, quickly and gently. He could feel his smile all the way down to his toes.

  Their waiter came back again. “Do you know what you’d like?”

  Tide nodded. “Lance will have the scallops in lemon beurre blank, and I’ll have the lobster.”

  “Bran will have the T-bone, mid-rare, with the broccoli and the salad. I’d like the New York strip, medium, with the mushrooms and the salad.” Tyrone ordered for himself and his boy.

  “The steak here is amazing,” Tide told Lance. “But I wanted to suck on seafood with you.”

  Bran snorted. “Master Tyrone’s on a high-protein program right now. We’re all veg and beef, all the time.”

  “You aren’t complaining about having steak, are you, boy?” Tyrone asked.

  “No, Sir. You know I love meat.” Bran looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

  Tide burst out laughing. Lance’s laughter joined his, and a wave of pure love hit him in the gut. Leaning in, he kissed his boy, hard. Lance’s hand landed on his belly, lips open and eager for him. He fucked the sweet lips with his tongue, groaning.

  “Boys. Salads are coming,” Tyrone warned.

  Tide sat back, looking at Lance and feeling smug.

  Tyrone gave him a fond glance. “So good to see you settled, Tide.”

  “Feels good too, man.” The approval felt fucking good too. Tyrone was his best friend and it was important.

  Their salads arrived, along with warm bread and butter.

  Tide dug in happily. They all ate their greens, saying very little. Every now and then, he’d catch Lance’s gaze and he’d smile, feeling love flood through him.

  “You two are basking,” Tyrone accused.

  Tide pursed his lips together and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, we are.”

  “That’s okay.” Lance put a hand on his arm. “We’re allowed.”

  “We are. We deserve it.” Bending, he kissed Lance softly.

  Lance kissed him back, nice and easy.

  “I can’t wait to feed you the scallops. It’s going to be so much fun.”

  Lance gave him a warm smile. “I like fun.”

  “Good. I like you.” Tide chuckled. “God, we really are basking, aren’t we?”

  “Like giant lizards.” Bran’s words had him cracking up.

  Tide nodded and made an effort to involve Tyrone and Bran—he’d invited them after all. “So how’s it going, guys?”

  “Good. Good, Bran and I are going to an equipment show for the gym, test some stuff out for the boss.”

  “Oh yeah?” Tide asked.

  The “boss” was their silent partner, the man who’d invested a large sum of money so they could open the gym in the first place.

  “It’s a good excuse for a road trip,” Tyrone noted.

  “And to show yourselves off,” Tide teased. “We ought to come along so Lance can take pictures.”

  “Oh, that would rock! We could take a few extra days!” Bran bounced.

  Tide turned to his boy. “What do you say, darling?”

  “I love to go see new things. Love it.”

  “Then it’s done. As long as you guys don’t mind that we’ve horned our way in.”

  “Shit, we’ll have a ball.” Tyrone grinned, looking pleased as hell.

  Tide beamed at them, then at Lance. “It’s awesome not being the odd man out anymore.” Not that Tyrone or Bran ever made him feel like a third wheel. Hell, they always included him.

  Lance squeezed his hand, obviously trying to comfort him.

  He gave his lover a warm smile. “My lovely boy.”

  “So, we get to plan a party and a road trip, Master.” Bran kissed Tyrone playfully.

  “Make sure you get a good hotel.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’ll e-mail everything to Lance.”

  Lance was going to learn a lot in a very short time about the relationships subs had with each other. Of course, Lance couldn’t have a better friend to teach him, to take him under his wing. Bran was the most giving man Tide had ever met, was so happy to explore and stretch and learn.

  “You should make sure you have Bran’s phone number, Lance. He will always be there to help you with anything.”

  Lance pulled out his phone, Bran did the same and they shared contacts. “I’ll give you Master Tyrone’s too, in case you need it. Once you start meeting people, it’ll get easier.”

  Tide nodded, so pleased. Their community was fairly tight-knit, and while it could be scary as a newcomer, it was what held you up.

  Lance looked a little worried, a little stressed, but he handled it. Tide was so proud of him.

  Tyrone chuckled, leaned in to murmur at him, “You swat him if he gets too pushy. My boy’s terribly excited for you.”

  “And I’m pleased Lance has someone in his situation to talk to.”

  “Yeah. I wish Bran had had that in the beginning, but he managed and now he’s a resource.” Tyrone’s eyes twinkled at him. “My boy, consulting submissive.”

  “Should we get him business cards?”

  “Oh shit. That’s a fabulous fucking idea. He would laugh his ass off.”

  Bran and Lance looked at them. “What are you up to?” Bran asked.

  Tide shook his head; he wasn’t going to say.

  “We’re just chatting. You boys were busy.” Tyrone did innocent so well….

  “And here comes our food,” Tide pointed out.

  “Oh good. I’m hungry.”

  At Bran’s words, Lance nodded. “It all smells so good.”

  Tide had to agree. It looked good too, and he licked his lips as it was put in front of them. The seafood smelled fresh, the hint of the ocean rich. He grabbed his fork and knife, cutting one of Lance’s scallops. Then he forked a piece and held it to Lance’s lips. Lance opened up, tugged the bite off the fork. Groaning, Tide very slowly pulled the fork away.

  It was going to be the best meal ever.

  When Lance moaned softly for him, that just made it all the better. Grabbing a bit of his lobster, he dipped it in the garlic butter and offered it to Lance from his fingers.

  “You should have some too.” Lance took the bite, though.

  Tide slid his fingers along Lance’s lips and he pushed one in. Lance’s eyes crossed, his boy rocking on the chair, working the plug.

  “Oh damn. Look at that,” murmured Tyrone. “He’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t he?” Tide agreed.

  Lance’s eyes flew open, shock covering his face.

  Tide reached out and touched Lance’s cheek. “You are.”

  “Sorry. Sorry, I sort of forgot where I was.”

  “What are you apologizing for?” Tide asked.

  Lance’s voice dropped. “Focusing on…. I mean, the plug is….”

  God, so sexy.

  “That is nothing to apologize for,” Tide told him.

  “It’s not exactly
for public consumption.”

  “Tyrone and Bran aren’t exactly public.”

  “No, but restaurants are,” Lance noted.

  “I doubt anyone else knows what you’re doing, darling.”

  “I hope not.”

  Tide shook his head, sure that Lance’s secret was safe. “Have some more of that amazing scallop dish and don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay. I’d hate to miss a second.”

  Tide understood that. He grabbed another piece of lobster meat, dipping and offering it over. Lance ate the bite and then fed him a bite of scallop. He wrapped his tongue around Lance’s fingers, sucking on them, before letting them go and eating the scallop. Spicy, sweet. He approved. Almost as good as the taste of his boy.

  He stole one of Lance’s scallops, sliding it through the sauce before munching on it.

  They finished their entrees, ordered two desserts to share among them. It was fun, relaxing, and he loved seeing Lance animated and glowing. By the end of the meal, Lance and Bran had arranged to meet for lunch next week to work on travel plans, leaving the party for later. It would give him and Tyrone a chance to have a beer and catch up.

  At the end of their meal, Tide leaned in and licked the chocolate from Lance’s lips.

  “Be good, Tide.” Lance wasn’t serious, at all.

  He grabbed Lance’s lower lip between his and sucked. His hand slipped under Lance’s ass, teasing the base of the plug. Lance’s gasp was audible and exactly what he’d been hoping for.

  Smiling, he backed off. “You see? I’m being very good.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lance was revved up again, buzzing, pierced nipples hard.

  He loved the way they stood out beneath the dress shirt despite the fact it was oversized. It made Lance look wicked, naughty. Tide reached out, stroked one nipple, feeling the hard little nub.

  It was Bran who moaned, and when Tide glanced over, Bran was licking his lips and watching them closely.

  “Be polite, boy,” Tyrone murmured.

  “Sorry,” Bran apologized. “You’re both so pretty.”

  “Thank you, Bran.” Tide smiled at Lance. His boy needed to know that other people found Lance attractive as well.

  Lance shook his head, smiled across the table.

  “No head shaking when someone pays you a compliment, boy.”

  Lance shot him a glance, and the heat in it satisfied Tide bone-deep.

  “We need the bill, I think.” He wanted to take his boy home.

  “We’ll get this one, Tide.” Tyrone grinned at him. “Congratulations on your contract.”

  “Thanks, man.” He clapped Tyrone on the back, then bent to give Bran a kiss on the cheek.

  “I’m so happy for you, Master Tide. Honest.”

  “Thank you for sharing our celebration with us.” Tide included them both in the words.

  Bran leaned over and kissed Lance gently. “I can’t wait for our lunch.”

  Lance nodded. “I’m tickled. I can’t wait, I promise.”

  Lance stood and Tide took his hand as they left their friends behind in the restaurant.

  “That was so cool of them.” Lance walked so carefully, gracefully with the plug.

  “It was a nice surprise. They’re happy for us, though.” And he thought Bran was particularly pleased to be friends with his sub.

  “They are. I guess it’s a little like getting married.”

  Tide had no problem with that comparison. “Indeed. Between the contract and getting tested so we can go bareback… that’s a huge commitment.”

  “It is.” Lance gave his hand a hard squeeze. “I love you.”

  He stopped right there in the street and looked at Lance. “And I love you.” Then he took a kiss.

  Lance gasped, but responded. It was as if his boy had decided that this was real, that they were real. And he couldn’t wait to explore everything with Lance, absolutely everything.

  Ending the kiss, Tide pressed their foreheads together. “Come on, darling, let’s go home.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  God, just those words had his balls aching.

  He was a fucking lucky man.

  Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long-lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to Chicago.

  A longtime writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

  Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

  Website: www.seanmichaelwrites.com

  Blog: seanmichaelwrites.blogspot.ca

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites

  Twitter: @seanmichael09

  To all those who never see themselves as beautiful…

  Author’s Note

  PLEASE REMEMBER this novel—like all fiction novels—is not a manual on how to “do” BDSM and that there is no One True Way. For every couple—or more—engaged in some form of BDSM, there is a different way of doing things: different preferences, roles, likes, limits, and so on. What is portrayed within these pages is only one couple’s way of exploring a BDSM-based relationship and what works for them will not work for someone else.

  Though I strive to accurately and positively portray the BDSM lifestyle in all my fiction, it is still fiction. I endeavor to show “Safe, Sane, and Consensual” or “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink” play and make it clear when what I am showing is not one of these. But I am not perfect. While I participate in the lifestyle, I am well aware that I do not know everything—far from it. Even after all the years I’ve been involved, I am learning and will continue to do so for many years to come.

  Please keep these things in mind as you enjoy Beautiful boy. Always, always, research thoroughly any play you wish to participate in. And remember to keep it Safe, Sane, and Consensual, or within the realm of Risk-Aware Consensual Kink.

  Chapter 1

  Mal

  “ARE THERE any stores that don’t decorate for this damned holiday?” I grumbled, stepping around another display of ornaments. “Or this fucking early? It’s barely November.”

  All I wanted to do was collect the groceries I needed and get home, away from the repetitive music, garish displays, and ridiculous cheer. Because I certainly didn’t have anything to be cheerful about. I hated this time of year. All it did was remind me of what I’d lost, what I didn’t have, and what I’d never have again.

  I moved through the store with single-minded determination to avoid as much Christmas stuff as possible. I kept myself focused on the things I needed, and within a very short time, I was moving through the self-checkout.

  Just as I was about to escape, arms wrapped around me from behind, and I groaned. Only one person would risk doing that; only one person could get away with it.

  I sighed. “Cam,” I growled in warning.

  “Mal,” he mimicked me, dropping his head onto my shoulder, his blond hair spilling over my arm. “I’m glad I caught you here. I was about to go to your place, but now you can drive me so I don’t have to deal with the bus,” he said, oblivious to my mood. Or maybe he wasn’t. Cam never seemed to care how grumpy I was. He grinned when I turned my head to try to glare at him.

  “I’ll drive you home,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint that I wanted to be alone. The glare was wasted, of course, as was the pointed reply.

  He dropped a big smacking kiss on my cheek. “I know what’s going on.”

  I sighed again and turned around, then realized we were taking up space in the middle of the gro
cery store entryway. I turned on my heel and headed out the door. I didn’t bother to look behind me. I knew Cam would be following. “What’s going on?” I asked, knowing full well he was about to give me crap for my hermit tendencies at this time of year.

  “You’re hiding again. It’s not healthy.”

  “What do you know about healthy?” I poked his soft stomach. “You think coffee is one of the food groups. And sugar is the other.”

  He laughed, blue eyes twinkling. “Yeah, and? Sammy likes me this way.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Duh. Sammy’s the one who bakes up all that sugar at work and happily brings her leftovers home for you to eat.”

  “Exactly!” he agreed.

  I shook my head and hit the button to unlock the car doors. “Okay, lecture delivered. You can go tell your wife you’ve harassed me for today.”

  Cam shook his head. “Nope.”

  I blinked at him. “Nope?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head again. “I’ve been ordered to bring you home for dinner after we stop at your place.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’ve been eating just fine, Cam. You guys don’t have to babysit me. He’s gone. I’ve grieved. It’s been two years. I just don’t want to go out. What’s so wrong with that?”

  Cam just laughed, making me open my eyes and glare.

  “I fail to find this funny.”

  His grin widened. “It’s not funny. But it’s not about feeding you, though Sammy always wants to feed you.”

  I grunted in acknowledgment of that.

  “It’s about getting you back to the club. When was the last time you swung a flogger, dude?”

  I frowned. “You know the answer to that, Cam. I don’t want to. I’ve put my toys away. You know why. We’ve been over this more times than either of us could count.”

  He didn’t bother arguing the last part of that, because he knew it was true. “Do you really think you’re going to be able to give that up for the rest of your life? Are you planning to stay alone for the rest of your life too?”

  I scratched at my beard as I tried to figure out how to explain it again, or maybe differently. Or something. “No. I’m not going to stay alone. Blake wouldn’t have wanted that. And someday I will find someone. But that… the Dom is gone. I can’t do it again.”