Synful Dreams [Syn’s Playground] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Shea Balik

  Gently he lifted PJ into his arms. The moment PJ’s head rested against his shoulder, Syn felt it bone deep in his soul— he was home. He might have screwed things up that ended up in being separated from this amazing man, but now that he was actually in his arms, Syn wasn’t about to ever let him go again. Even if it meant having to go toe to toe with his little love to do it.

  “I missed this,” PJ murmured sleepily.

  A smile tugged at Syn’s lips at PJ’s confession. He was sure PJ would be mortified to know he’d made it.

  “I have, too, little love. More than you will ever know.” Syn felt an ache deep in his chest when he put PJ down on the bed. He didn’t want to release PJ, but he needed to get dinner started and make arrangements for Emma to be picked up from daycare.

  “Umm…” PJ moaned as he pushed his nose into the pillow, inhaling deeply. “Smells just like you.”

  In the next instant, PJ was snoring gently.

  Syn leaned down and kissed his little love’s lips. “With any luck they will soon smell like us.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “No,” Emma said with hands firmly planted on her hips and a frown on her otherwise angelic face. “I want eggs and bacon,” she insisted.

  PJ had no idea what made her think she was going to get eggs and bacon for breakfast. He’d never been a morning person and pouring cereal and milk into a bowl was about the best he was going to do. His idea of a home cooked breakfast was putting a Pop-Tart in the toaster.

  Hell, he’d only been up for thirty minutes and already PJ was ready to get back to bed for a nap. The only reason he’d gotten out to begin with was to help Daniel with getting Emma ready for school. Except it had been Syn who had been doing all the work as Daniel was still in bed, and PJ hadn’t been able to get up to her room to wake her up, pick out her outfit, or make sure she had everything she needed for daycare.

  Now she wanted something that even if he wanted to make, he couldn’t because of the stupid wheelchair. It was severely hampering his ability to do even the most basic of jobs.

  “I don’t like that tone of voice, little lady,” Syn said as he strode out of the master bedroom, freshly showered.

  PJ glowered at him for the luxury. It would be at least six weeks before he’d be able to get his stupid cast off and be able to take a shower. Even then, the doctor wasn’t sure he wouldn’t need another cast.

  “Sorry,” Emma said contritely. “But Uncle PJ wanted me to have cereal.” The shudder she gave matched the one Syn gave.

  What was going on?

  “Be that as it may,” Syn told her. “You owe Uncle PJ an apology for behaving that way when he was just trying to help, no matter how misguided it was. And I do believe we’ve discussed the proper way to respond when you wish for something different.”

  Emma gave a frustrated sigh. “But I did, Uncle Syn. I thanked him for offering cereal and explained I wanted eggs and bacon, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with Emma?” PJ asked as he listened in complete amazement at just how grown up Emma sounded. He was used to her childish exuberance. This was…well, she sounded like…he glanced up in horror at Syn. “You’ve turned my sweet Emma into you,” he accused.

  One of Syn’s eyebrows lifted up as he smirked down at PJ. “Is there a problem with that?”

  When PJ glanced over at Emma, he saw she wore a similar expression, except her eyebrow didn’t quite rise like Syn’s did, but the smirk was eerily similar. “I like Uncle Syn. I want to be just like him,” Emma said with the same matter-of-fact tone Syn used whenever he wasn’t budging.

  It always drove PJ crazy because he knew there was no arguing with the man when he spoke in that manner. Now he’d have Emma using it, too. “Yes,” he exclaimed. “There most certainly is a problem with it.”

  He knew he was being irrational, but all PJ could see was Emma constantly reminding him of Syn when the man finally left them. PJ already would have a broken heart, the last thing he’d need was a mini-Syn in the house, opening the wound every time she opened her mouth. That was when it hit him. Syn had used his shower. “Why were you in my shower? Doesn’t the hotel have one for you to use?”

  But instead of arguing with him, Syn shrugged. “I’m not in a hotel, I was sleeping on the couch in case you needed help in the middle of the night.” Then he clapped his hands together as if that was the end of that. “Now who wants to make eggs and bacon?”

  Emma jumped up and down excitedly. “Me, me, me.” At least she didn’t always act like Syn. “Can we also make pancakes since it’s Uncle PJ’s first morning home?” Emma asked, as she picked up a stool along the wall and placed it in front of the island.

  Syn gave her request some thought, while Emma waited patiently for his answer. “I think that would be a good idea. Do you want to get the eggs, while I get the milk?” Syn asked.

  The both went to the refrigerator. Emma pulled out a dozen eggs, carefully cradling them in her tiny arms. When she started to reach up to put them on the counter, Syn was there to ensure they didn’t topple off. Then, as if they’d done this dozens of times, Emma went to the pantry to get the pancake mix, while Syn pulled more ingredients out of the fridge.

  Like a choreographed dance, the two mixed the eggs for scrambled eggs, combined ingredients for pancakes and even cleaned up after themselves. PJ just watched with his mouth wide open in astonishment.

  Sure, he’d been in the hospital for a month, between the surgeries and the rehab, but it was like he was a guest in his own home. How in the hell did that happen? And why did his heart ache for this to be his life?

  Disgusted with himself for actually wanting something that he knew could never be, PJ rolled out of the kitchen and went back into his bedroom to sulk. This wasn’t supposed to be his life.

  From the moment he’d met Syn in college, PJ had known he’d belonged by his side. Too bad life had other ideas. Now, here he was, shot three times and repeatedly smacked in the face with the future he never could have all because he’d been stupid enough to try and help some woman he didn’t even know.

  That will teach him to get involved when he should have minded his own damn business. What do they say? No good deed goes unpunished? Well PJ was learning the hard way exactly what that meant.

  “Uncle PJ, breakfast is ready,” Emma said from beside him, causing PJ to jump a little since he hadn’t heard her come in. “I helped make it,” she announced proudly.

  Irritably, PJ wanted to tell her he wasn’t hungry, but the hopeful look on her face stopped him from crushing her by refusing to eat what she cooked.

  Feeling like a heel for even thinking of taking it out on his sweet niece, PJ smiled at her. “It smells delicious. Do you think you could help me wheel this chair back into the kitchen?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Can I really?”

  Not waiting for an answer, she went around to the back. When he felt her slight form start to push, PJ gripped the wheels and made them move him forward. Emma grunted from the effort as they made their way off the bedroom carpet. The rest of the downstairs was tile, making it easier for them to move.

  When he was pushed to the table, Emma wiped her forehead as if she was exhausted. “You are heavy, Uncle PJ.”

  PJ had to bite back the laugh that tried to break free at her antics. “Thank you for your help, Emma. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

  A plate was put in front of him and PJ looked up to find an amused Syn looking down at him. “If Emma thinks you’re too heavy to push, maybe you should do without the pancakes,” Syn joked.

  PJ mock scowled up at him. “Don’t even think about it, mister. I’ve had to eat hospital food for a month. I want at least two pancakes.”

  Syn chuckled as he saluted. “Yes, sir.” Then he turned to Emma. “How about you, little one. How many pancakes do you want?”

  Emma scrunched up her face and tilted her head to the side as she thought about it. A mischievous grin appe
ared before being covered up by a serious one as she said, “I don’t want to take any pancakes away from Uncle PJ, so I’ll just have one.”

  When Syn turned back to the kitchen to get her plate, she called, “Since I’m giving up an extra pancake can I get two extra pieces of bacon?”

  PJ laughed at her logic. “Wait a minute,” he said. “No one told me if I had extra pancakes I wouldn’t get more bacon.”

  Syn brought back two plates and placed one in front of Emma before sitting down with own plate in between PJ and Emma. “If you can eat everything on your plate, I will gladly get you both more bacon,” Syn said even as he bit into a piece of the savory meat.

  Emma didn’t hesitate to pick up her fork and dig in. PJ was a little slower as he watched his niece happily. He’d really missed her. The night before he’d read her three stories before she would agree to go upstairs to bed, and that was only because PJ was falling asleep on the couch and Syn refused to back down when he said it was time for her to go to bed.

  By the time Syn had come back down the stairs, PJ must have fallen to sleep, for he didn’t remember anything else until he’d woken that morning to Syn coming in with a piece of toast and his pills.

  “Eat up,” Syn ordered, staring right at him. “You have physical therapy this morning and you’re going to need your strength.”

  PJ couldn’t help but groan at the reminder. He hated physical therapy. It might be necessary if he ever planned on walking again, but he just didn’t understand why it had to be so tortuous for him to heal. What made it worse was when the physical therapist acted like he was being a big baby for crying out in pain. Talk about having his man card ripped from his hands.

  He had just opened his mouth to say he wasn’t feeling well enough to go when Syn said, “Don’t even think about making excuses. You’re going.”

  Damn.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I mean it.” PJ put as much authority in his voice as he could. “I’m not about to spend another day in that house. Now take me to the club.” It had been a week since he’d gotten out of the hospital and PJ was going stir crazy.

  “Stop being irrational.” Syn’s tone said far more than his words ever could, which were hurtful enough. Syn thought he was being childish, but PJ was going out of his mind stuck in the house with Syn all day.

  The man was everywhere, doing just the right thing to try and make PJ’s life easier. Except all he ended up doing was making PJ even more confused than he already was. His resolve to stay as distant from Syn was weakening, and PJ honestly didn’t know how much longer he could last before he gave in and committed the most unforgivable sin of believing they had a future.

  “You’ve had a strenuous workout with the physical therapist. You need to take a pain pill and take a nap.” That air of authority was in Syn’s voice, the one that said he’d made up his mind and wasn’t about to back down.

  But this time, PJ wasn’t going to let him just win. Not if he had any hope of keeping his sanity. Syn was too ingrained into his life. Even his bed smelled like the man. No matter what he did, PJ just couldn’t get away from him.

  He had to get his life back if he was to have a chance of keeping his heart intact when Syn left him. “Either take me to the club or I’ll hire a taxi to drive me there,” PJ bravely gave the ultimatum.

  When Syn glanced over at him as if to see if he was serious, PJ added, “At least this way, you can keep an eye on me. But either way, I’m going to that club to see what still needs to be done.”

  PJ had felt guilty that his being shot had stopped the club from opening. The grand opening should have happened two weeks ago, but Syn had pretty much brought the entire thing to a halt. The workers had only been allowed to finish what they’d been assigned already. Otherwise nothing else had been accomplished.

  Thankfully, Syn had let the floor be installed, for trying to schedule them had been a nightmare of epic proportions. Construction in Florida was a booming industry, and getting anyone to commit to a date was nearly impossible.

  “Fine,” Syn grumbled. “But you get no more than an hour and at the first yawn, I’m taking you out of there, got it?” Syn stared hard at him while they were stopped at a light to make sure PJ understood just how serious he was.

  “Anything you say.” PJ would have agreed to just about anything not to have to go home.

  “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Syn told him. “But Joel has been complaining that he wanted something to do. Maybe you can direct him on what still needs to be done so we can get the club open.”

  As much as PJ hated the idea of someone else doing his job, he also knew there was no way he could spend eight hours a day at the club in his condition. “I hope Joel knows what he’s in for,” PJ muttered.

  Working with contractors and subcontractors who had more work than they knew how to accomplish without having to work twenty hour days wasn’t always easy. Many times it created sloppy work in order for them to finish quickly. PJ’s keen eye always caught their mistakes, but he wasn’t so sure Joel would know the difference.

  Then there was the issue of forcing them to correct their errors. Something not all subcontractors wanted to do. It took a spine of steal to go toe-to-toe with many of them.

  Syn chuckled. “He’s been working with me for ten years now. Dealing with arrogant men isn’t exactly new to him.”

  PJ would have to agree. Syn had to be one of the most arrogant men he’d ever met. The man didn’t seem to understand the word no, unless he was the one saying it. As far as PJ knew, there was nothing Syn hadn’t accomplished when he put his mind to it.

  Which was another reason PJ needed to get back to work. He was hoping by refocusing Syn’s attention away from him and onto the club, Syn might just forget about him that much sooner. Like it or not, PJ wasn’t going to be able to stand firm with Syn’s sole attention on breaking down the walls he’d carefully erected to keep his heart intact.

  A few minutes later Syn was turning into the club’s parking lot. The moment they stopped, PJ already opened the door. Not that it helped, since he couldn’t actually get out, but it gave him a bit of room to breathe.

  “If you think you’re going to get out without my help, you will end up face down over my lap with my hand beating your ass red.” There was no anger in Syn’s voice, just a matter-of-fact tone that left PJ almost daring to slide from his seat to the ground.

  He couldn’t explain it, but suddenly PJ wanted what they used to have. He wanted to feel Syn’s hand on his ass. The sting of each swat warming him until his world narrowed down to just the two of them. By the time Syn finished, his ass would be so hot that it glowed a rosy red.

  Then Syn would line his cock up against PJ’s hole and push as deep as possible, filling him completely. PJ would soar high in the clouds with only Syn to keep him grounded. Even better, for days afterward, whenever PJ sat down, he would remember just how much Syn loved him.

  Too late, he could actually feel himself sliding out of the SUV. As much as he may want that spanking, PJ wasn’t stupid enough to actually do more damage to his ankle. He gripped the seat with one hand and the door frame with the other, but he’s butt was too far off the edge and the weight of the cast was only helping to drag him to the ground.

  He cried out in fear just as his cast was about to touch cement. Arms wrapped around, pulling him safely out of the car without either of his feet hitting the pavement. “It appears someone is looking for punishment,” Syn’s silky smooth voice whispered in his ear.

  One of Syn’s legs pushed between his, the muscled thigh pressing into PJ’s bulging groin. He moaned even as he rutted against Syn’s leg.

  Syn’s deep chuckle sank into PJ, causing his dick to twitch in anticipation of what that sound meant. Syn had the most delicious ways of making PJ’s body sing. Each one more wicked than the last.

  “That’s it, little love,” Syn encouraged. “Show me how much you love what I do to you.”

  God
help him, but PJ loved every torturous moment. As much as he wanted to come apart in Syn’s arms, he equally wanted this man to tease him, for he knew with Syn in control, he would go up in flames.

  The blare of a horn from the street broke into the sensual haze like a bucket of ice water over his head. Good lord, what was he thinking? PJ almost let Syn make him come right there in the parking lot of the club. There were workers inside and cars driving by.

  Except PJ knew Syn would never allow anyone to see him like this. As he glanced around furtively, he could see the SUV blocked them from the road and the open passenger door hid them from inside the club. Still, PJ couldn’t allow Syn to get under his skin like this. He may want to, but he couldn’t risk his heart.

  “Put me in my wheelchair,” PJ said through clenched teeth as he desperately tried to get his body under control.

  He heard Syn’s sigh of regret even as he pivoted to do as PJ asked. But before Syn set him down, he stared right into his eyes as if he could see into PJ’s soul. “You know one day, you’re going to have to face what is between us.”

  PJ slowly moved his head from side to side. “Maybe, but I’m betting you leave before that happens.”

  Syn carefully placed PJ in the wheelchair, but stayed leaning over him closely, so PJ had nowhere to go. “That’s where you’re wrong, little love.” Lips so familiar, they made PJ want to cry when they brushed against his for a brief kiss. “I’m here to stay.”

  If only PJ could believe that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” Joel said way too dramatically, putting Syn instantly on alert.

  Joel wasn’t one to create drama, or feed into it. For him to act this way meant something was seriously wrong. With PJ in a wheelchair, Syn’s first priority was to ensure his safety.