by Neve Wilder
She snickered. “Sounds like your dick’s not having any trouble with that, at least.”
“So crass,” I chided. “And here I spent three hours in a Mini Cooper to come to your fancy wedding.”
“You have my eternal gratitude for making it, though. That counts for something, right?”
“Tell it to my left asscheek. Maybe that’ll wake it up.”
She gave it a resounding smack and laughed. “How’s that? Better?”
“Your technique has improved. Aaron getting the benefit of that?” I waggled my brows, and she stuck her tongue out at me.
“I’ll never tell.”
“Liar. You’ll tell me in lurid detail, and then you’ll probably want advice.”
“Probably.” Shay pursed her lips, then huffed out a dramatic sigh and handed me a plate. “But seriously. It means the world that you would do that for me.”
“Told you I wouldn’t miss it, babe.” Shay and I had become close shortly after I’d come out at the tail end of senior year in high school. She was the only other person in our class who openly identified as anything besides straight. Then we’d discovered we were attending the same college in New Orleans. After freshman year, we’d moved in together, and despite the inevitable questions, we’d never been anything other than platonic. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so I counted her as close to a sibling as someone not blood related could be.
As I loaded my plate, Shay darted off to the bar and returned with two glasses of white wine. “So Cole’s single, by the way, although he and Chase have been giving each other the eye all night. Chase doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body.”
“Nice segue,” I retorted, though I did glance over my shoulder to where Cole been standing before and now no longer stood. Probably on the dance floor with Chase. I couldn’t blame him. Had Cole not been here, Chase would likely have been my first stop, too. But Cole’s presence changed everything. I knew next to nothing about how he’d filled the time since high school, except that he worked as a graphic designer and had traveled all over. Shay mentioned him occasionally and had told me he’d come out in college, but I got the sense that both she and Aaron were somewhat removed from his life, too, since they were in NYC.
“Just saying.” Shay nudged me again.
“Remember what happened last time you tried to set me up?”
“You had some really hot sex?”
“Yeah, and then what happened?” I bit into a samosa and chewed slowly while staring at her pointedly.
Shay mumbled into her drink.
“What was that?”
“He didn’t tell me he was already part of a triad. But Cole’s single for sure. Again, just putting it out there.”
“Stop trying to set me up. I’m fine with my ‘soulless’ Grindr hookups. Besides, that ship sailed a long, long time ago.” Actually, the ship had never even left the port, but that was neither here nor there now.
Shay huffed, then relented, and as I grabbed a set of silverware, I ticked my head toward the dance floor. “Go on and enjoy your party. Stop fussing over me. There are tons of people clamoring for your attention. I’ll find Aaron in a little while and say hello.”
Shay lifted on her toes and brushed a quick kiss over my cheek before mincing off. I watched her go with a fond smile.
Plate in hand, I scouted for a table and found an open spot near a couple of college friends Shay had evidently kept in touch with better than I had. After saying hellos, I tucked into the food, keeping an eye on my surroundings and telling myself I was just enjoying the view rather than looking for a particular brunet who probably had no idea I’d spent freshman year of college trying to find someone I was attracted to the way I’d always been to him.
A half hour later, I had a nice buzz and a fresh drink in my hand. The club had removed the buffet service and opened their doors to regular customers as well, and the place was packed with revelers taking advantage of a crisp Friday night on the tail end of summer.
I moved through clusters of people, catching up with those I recognized, finally finding Aaron and giving him a hearty hug and congratulations. We weren’t near as close as Shay and I were—he’d graduated two years ahead of Shay, Cole, and me—but he felt like a brother by extension.
I almost asked him if he’d seen Cole, and then reminded myself I was well past those kinds of high school inquiries. I’d either find him or I wouldn’t. In the meantime, I undid the buttons on my cuffs and tried to shake off some of the stress of the past forty-eight hours that accompanied a last-minute trip cross-country to finalize details on an upcoming business acquisition for the company I worked for in Vintage Ridge. Not to mention the cherry on top that had been the airport bomb threat. Rolling my shoulders a couple of times, I knocked back my drink in a few uncouth guzzles.
“Want to dance, Dane?” Chase’s bright smile caught me off guard. He owned several vitamin store franchises in town, and I saw him out and about a fair bit. We were friendly enough, though I’d turned down a few advances he’d made in the past. I glanced around again for Cole as I hedged.
Chase seemed to read my hesitation and thrust out his lower lip, giving me puppy dog eyes. “Oh, come on. I know you’ve got moves. I remember them from prom night.”
I remembered his, too. He’d been a wallflower that night, the girl he’d come with having ditched him as soon as they’d arrived. I’d felt bad for him and invited him to dance with me, Shay, and my date, Reggie, before Reggie had pulled me off the dance floor and out the door with breathless promises we’d eventually fulfilled in the back seat of my car. Classy all the way. I chuckled at the memory and took Chase’s hand as he extended it.
“Don’t expect the Worm this time. I’m not that flexible anymore.”
Chase flashed me a salacious grin. “Oh, but I am.”
3
Cole
On the sidewalk outside the club, I sucked in lungfuls of fresh air and was about to open my Uber app when an actual cab turned onto the street, and I flagged it down instead. I thumbed through my messages as I opened the door and ducked my head inside to ask the cabbie, “You good with making a quick stop along the way? Have to pick up some gifts.”
The cabbie nodded and waved me in. I slid inside the cherry-scented interior and closed the door, asking him to wait another second until Shay’s text with the name and address for my stop came through. She’d caught me just as I was heading out after I’d had all the small talk and people-watching I could take. It had absolutely nothing to do with any sort of disappointment over spotting Dane and Chase on the dance floor. None at all.
But it was probably nothing a drink at the hotel and a solo jerk session couldn’t cure.
I rattled off the address and was tucking my phone away when a knock on the glass startled both me and the cabbie.
Dane opened the door and peered inside at me. “You’re staying at the Sonata, right?”
“I am.” I ignored the flutter through my stomach. He wasn’t asking to take me to bed for fuck’s sake.
“My place is nearby. Mind if we share?” He gestured.
I nodded eagerly—far too eagerly—as the flutters in my chest became a stampede. “Sure. I have to make a stop to pick up something for Shay, though.” I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped that wouldn’t deter him, because even if we sat together in stilted silence the entire ride, he was still nice to look at.
“I’m not in a hurry.” Dane squeezed onto the seat beside me. Neither of us were small in stature, and when he relaxed back into the fake leather, his knees splayed wide and brushed against the side of mine. As the cabbie pulled into the flow of traffic, Dane stretched an arm along the back of the seat, a conversational pleasantness in his tone as he asked, “So where are we stopping?”
“Ace’s Wild. I have no fucking clue what magic has to do with a wedding, but it’s Aaron and Shay, so who knows.” I was well aware my brother and Shay were a little wild, but I was truly stumped why they’d choose wedding party gifts from
a magic shop.
Dane’s brows shot into his hairline, and then, to my confusion, both he and the cabbie burst into laughter.
“What?” It was probably the fiftieth time I’d said it to him. I imagined Dane was wondering if I’d had a stroke. I wouldn’t blame him. “I went there a couple of times as a kid. Got a really cool trick card set before I realized good magic is much more about sleight of hand and a shit ton of practice than trick card decks,” I added.
“I remember that deck.” Dane visibly fought to get his expression under control. “With the symbols on the back that told you what card it was. Stumped me for weeks.”
“I still have it somewhere.” My interest in magic had lasted approximately two months—long enough for me to determine I was never going to manage the suave of Criss Angel, nor his rock star–cool hair. Besides, back then the thing I was most interested in making disappear was the boner I sometimes got in the locker room. But no one had a trick for that.
“You’re thinking of Wild Rabbit, though. It’s gone now.” Dane raked a hand through his hair and caught eyes with the cabbie in the mirror. The corners of his mouth twitched up again. “Ace’s Wild is a sex shop.”
“W—” No. I refused to say it again. “Oh. So they’ve chosen to gift their wedding party with sex toys. That’s not weird at all.” And they’d tasked me with picking these items up. Fantastic.
Dane laughed. “I have to say I’d prefer it over another engraved flask, tin of cigars, or set of shot glasses. I’ve got an entire cabinet of those.”
The cabbie nodded an emphatic agreement. “There’s a new Fleshlight I saw advertised the other day. Now that would be a great gift.”
“Oh?” Dane asked with apparent interest as the cabbie nodded. “I haven’t seen that one.”
“It’s got grips built into it. You can also customize ’em now, too.”
“There are some great copycat products, too, but the original is an icon at this point, really, isn’t it?” Dane said sagely, as if they were trading commentary about a work of art.
And then he and the cabbie were off, talking comparisons in texture and sensation while I stared out the window trying not to listen, unable to contribute, and fighting off the semi rising in my pants. Why the hell didn’t I have a Fleshlight?
Just inside the door of Ace’s Wild, I stopped and marveled. It wasn’t as if I’d never been in a sex shop before, but it’d been a long time, and that place had been a dingy hole-in-the-wall compared to the clean, well-lit, and obviously carefully considered shop I stood in now. Back then, a college buddy and I had gone in to grab a bunch of cheap vibrators to play a prank on one of our other friends, strewing them around his dorm room, his backpack, his closet, and then setting them all to vibrate. Admittedly, I might have eyed some of the dildos and plugs in the shop a little curiously but had then forgotten completely about them. Use of plugs or dildos—or any other sex toys—with a partner had been almost nonexistent. Compared to the fantasies that lived in my mind and the porn I jerked off to, my sex life was surprisingly tame—or lame, depending. But just when I started roaming down the path of whys in that regard, a voice boomed out.
“Hey, fellas, help you with—oh, Dane. Guess I can drop the customer service spiel.”
I snuck a look at Dane. On a first-name basis with this hulk of a man I guessed was the owner? That was interesting. He and the guy exchanged a quick hug, and Dane introduced him to me as Ace, then told him, “Cole’s here to pick up something for Shay.”
“My soon-to-be sister-in-law,” I tacked on, wanting to be clear about the relationship.
Ace’s grin broadened. “You’re practically family, then. I’ve got everything almost ready. Let me just scoot to the back and put it all in a box. Easier to carry that way.” He gestured toward the shop displays. “Feel free to take a look around.”
He was off before I could even say thanks. “He’s got a lot of energy,” I commented.
Dane nodded with a smile and gestured me deeper into the shop. “He and his partner own the place. Good people.” He strolled toward the shelves and displays, seeming completely at ease, while I followed along behind, likely with the expression of a kid who’d just discovered porn for the first time.
My gaze darted from shelf to shelf, display to display, while my dick hardened. I wondered if that was something Ace and his partner considered a hazard of the job: a constant stream of rigid body parts and men adjusting their crotches. Or maybe most people were cooler customers. I attempted a surreptitious glance at Dane’s crotch to confirm my theory, but his back was to me.
While he went left, I went right, stopping in front of an array of dildos that ranged from incredibly lifelike to outlandish and exotic animal shapes. As I eyed a thick, frighteningly realistic dildo complete with skin shading and juicy-looking veins, my stomach flip-flopped. The thing was gigantic.
“One to work up to, huh?” Dane said over my shoulder, and I let out a startled laugh.
“Might as well fuck a horse. Or use your fist at that point,” I said, even as my cheeks heated. Something else I’d only ever experienced via porn but was curious about—the fisting, not the horse. The latter was definitely not my kink.
“I’ve seen one of these used to nice effect before, but never experienced it myself.” Dane gave me another one of those disarmingly self-assured looks that I had to force my attention away from.
“Seen it used. Like…in person? Like a sex-club-type scenario?” I prodded one of the thick veins on the dildo. It had enough squishy give to feel lifelike and was absolutely no help to my burgeoning erection. I shoved my hand in my pocket.
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded matter-of-factly. “I don’t go much anymore, but I used to.”
“Oh. I didn’t even know there were sex clubs in Vintage Ridge.” God, I lived under a rock. Granted I hadn’t spent much time here other than quick visits with my folks since I’d gone off to college. But still, Dane had gone to sex clubs here? That probably shouldn’t have gotten me as hot as it did.
“There are. Good ones, too.” Dane picked up a box and turned it in my direction. “This must be the one the cabbie was talking about.”
I considered the long tube with finger grips through the plastic display window. It looked like it’d been metal plated, and I wasn’t sure it was anything I wanted to stick my cock into, but maybe the exterior was deceiving. “It looks…very serious. And a little ridiculous. Is the metal plating supposed to appeal to the tough guy types, or is it an aesthetic choice, do you think? Metallic finishes are very in right now.”
“Maybe you can try it and let me know your experiential conclusions,” Dane said, with a wry lift of his brow.
I blinked, unable to discern whether he was flirting with me or teasing. “Or you could.”
“I already have three. Four seems like overkill.”
Three? How was I supposed to reply to that? The faint curve of his smile suggested he didn’t expect one as he returned the box to its place on the shelf.
I picked up a sample of what I supposed was another masturbation sleeve, considering its location. Unlike the Fleshlights, it was made of pliant silicone and double-sided, with what looked like a mouth on one end and a tiny, perfectly puckered hole on the other. I stuck my finger inside the mouth and wiggled it around, encountering soft ridges. My dick perked with interest. With a bit of lube, I imagined it could feel…oh yeah.
“I own that one. It’s fantastic. Strong recommend.” Dane reached out and gave a quick, sharp squeeze to the sleeve that had me biting back a gasp.
“I’m starting to get the idea you own half the things in this shop.” I tried hard for nonchalance but couldn’t shake the feeling of his grip, how it’d pressed those little knobs of silicone against my skin. I couldn’t help but imagine if it’d been my cock inside. Crap, I was getting hard. Again.
“You can’t tell me you don’t own one toy. A little sleeve like this? Prostate vibrator? C’mon, a guy who once fucked a watermelon?” He
flashed me a devilish smile.
“Jesus Christ, would you be quiet?” I hissed, my cheeks flaming with a rush of humiliation. Why? Why did he remember that? “I was like…fifteen. And insanely horny. And desperate. And there was that video with…”
Dane chuckled low. God, his amusement was both sexy and annoying. “Relax. I told you I did the same.”
I remembered that, as well, and the heat in my cheeks diverted south as I recalled him describing it. Whereas I’d suffered extreme postorgasm shame—because…a watermelon, really?—Dane had recounted the cool, gritty squish of the interior with something like fascination.
“Kinda where my interest in off-the-beaten-track stuff began, I suppose,” he mused thoughtfully, and again, I had to admire his guilelessness. There wasn’t some deep psychological meaning behind my rather pedestrian sexual encounters, it was just that I’d never embraced the things that truly excited me the way it sounded like Dane had. The few times I’d tried, it hadn’t gone well.
We left the dildos and plugs behind and meandered toward a wall where I recognized floggers, riding crops, and harnesses. Again, mostly from porn. I brushed my fingertips over the fringed ends of a cat o’ nine tails wistfully.
“Do you play?” Dane gestured toward the implements with a curious sidelong glance at me.
The question caught me off guard, but I knew enough to grasp his meaning. “Nah. I only know a tiny bit about it really.” I pointed out a long, thin stick. “Cane, right?”
He nodded, running his fingers along the smooth wood. A tiny shudder raced up my spine when he rubbed his thumb over the end, as if it were me he was touching.
Beneath that cane was a thinner piece of what looked like plastic and reminded me of the switches my grandma had threatened us with as kids. “This, too? Doesn’t really look as formidable as the wooden thing.”
“Rattan. And this one is nylon.” Dane unhooked it from the wall and twirled it in his hand like a kinky baton. Then he pointed it at me. “Bend over.”