The man grunted in approval a few times then wandered back over and handed an envelope to Severin, who put it in the pocket of his abused leather jacket.
“Solid work,” the man said, looking impressed. “Ugly as fuck.”
“Like me.”
The man’s mouth quirked. “And me.”
He helped the man load it into the trailer and strap it down, then turned back to Loïc as the man drove away, content that the bike was going to someone who understood his work.
Loïc was already standing by the driver’s side of his sports car. Severin stopped on the passenger side and raised a brow at the door.
“Yeah, I don’t know if you’re going to fit,” Loïc said, chuckling. He eyed Severin then eyed the car door. “Might need some lube.”
*
He’d finished a new bike.
He’d walked the dogs.
Minnow had gone out shopping.
Loïc had gone for a drive.
Rodrigo had gone home to work first thing that morning.
God, he’d never needed people around before, but the house was weirdly quiet, and he didn’t feel like starting a new project or eating. There was no one home to torment and he was bored.
The idea of going out to look for Minnow just so he could fuck with her was appealing, but having to deal with a mall full of people was a serious deterrent. Rodrigo, though, was probably alone, sitting in his house, being good and minding his own business.
He let himself in through Ro’s gate and didn’t knock on the door before entering.
For Rodrigo, he’d never knocked. They’d treated each other’s houses as their own for so long, Severin could hardly remember a time where they’d stood on ceremony.
The idiot never locked the door. Typical Rodrigo. His place was in town, unlike Severin’s – all sleek and modern – and without much in the way of security. A sitting duck, like its owner.
He strolled through the house, aware he was tracking mud in on his boots. Like he gave a shit. Well, he did, but it made him happy. Perfect fucking Rodrigo needed things in his life sullied.
He moved up the stairs to Rodrigo’s office.
In the silence of the house he could hear Rodrigo’s voice. From his tone, he was using the business persona Severin hated, yet had made them both a lot of money. People loved the self-possessed, daring and impeccably dressed version of Ro. Severin liked him better at home, in jeans, tattoos showing, with evil smiles and rumpled hair. Better still, Severin liked him naked and balls deep in Minnow. He loved the way he gasped when he got off. That moment of complete vulnerability.
He’d seen every look of desire Rodrigo had aimed his way over the years, but hadn’t known what to do with it – had been content to leave things as they were until Loïc came along.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself before the alleyway, but for years he’d thought of Rodrigo as his.
The door to Rodrigo’s office was closed, but the handle turned under Severin’s hand. Rodrigo stood, looking out the window and talking on his cell, his back to Severin. Despite the discussion he was having with someone about investment shit, he was still wearing jeans and a T-shirt. From the looks of things, he’d been running his hand through his hair and it stood up at odd angles. Nice.
Today he was half Severin’s Rodrigo, and half public Rodrigo. Broad shoulders sloped to narrow waist and hips. His ass looked good in jeans – not that it didn’t look good in dress clothes.
As he approached, he glanced at Rodrigo’s open laptop. A picture of his mother transitioned to one of his sister and nephew, to one of Minnow checking out the Maserati he’d recently acquired. A headshot of his brother, Fidel, from some movie he’d starred in. A picture of Minnow sleeping, beautiful, her hair wild and bare shoulders visible. A picture of Severin frozen, hammer raised mid-strike in the forge. When had he taken that?
Embarrassment made his face hot. Fuck, he was ugly, especially after seeing that picture of Minnow. Why would Rodrigo have kept that – or have taken it in the first place? A picture of Mayte’s husband Dax giving the camera the finger while Mayte was kissing his cheek. Minnow sticking her tongue out. Severin’s brother Church, and his wife Ilse and the kids, clowning around the Christmas before. John, Rodrigo’s former valet, on a sunny beach with his wife. Severin in profile, fishing, looking across the water at the lake. He’d never really thought about how his underbite made him look mean.
Rodrigo ended his call and turned. The moment he realized he wasn’t alone he launched toward Sev, fist raised. He stopped inches away, eyes wide, and dropped his fist.
“What the fuck, man?” Ro laughed uneasily. “You scared the shit out of me.” His gaze slid to the laptop screen, and Severin could tell he wanted to snap it closed, but he didn’t do it.
“You take pictures of me when I’m not looking? That fishing one has to be from a few years ago.”
Rodrigo’s gaze shifted away and he tried to look casual. “I like taking pictures.”
Severin only had a few pictures left after the rampage he went on after his mother, Sutton, died. Minnow had salvaged a few. He’d never thought to take new ones – some of Minnow and Rodrigo. Maybe Loïc. Church and Ilse and the girls. Mementos only served to make a person sad after something was over. Mementos made him uncomfortable.
“You followed me home?”
Severin sat in Rodrigo’s leather office chair, and turned the laptop so it would be easier to watch the slideshow.
Rodrigo grumbled something, but grabbed a paper with a phone number scrawled across it, and started another call, turning away from Severin as though his presence was distracting.
For every photo of Rodrigo’s family, there was one of Severin, or of Severin’s family. They’d been close for so long it wasn’t odd – hell, Rodrigo had been friends with Church before he’d even met Sev. Of course he cared about Sutton and Church and Ilse, but the pictures of Severin usually had a different tone. No family goofing around pictures, other than a few of him playing Lego with his nieces, and one of him smirking as he held Church in a headlock. One of Sutton smiling at the back of his head when he hadn’t known she was there. There were so many pictures of Severin alone – working, looking thoughtful, looking mean. Years of pictures taken by a lover, not a buddy. Pictures Rodrigo had never shown him.
He turned his attention back to Rodrigo, whose demeanor had changed completely from when he’d made the last call. The charming, business Rodrigo was still doing the talking, but the tension in his body spoke of his awareness of Severin’s proximity, as if he couldn’t ignore he was there.
When the call ended, he sighed heavily and turned back to Severin.
“Can I help you, your majesty? You do realize I came home to work to get away from distractions.”
“Is that what I am to you? A distraction?”
Rodrigo’s jaw flexed. “You’ve been the biggest distraction in my life for years.”
“You sound resentful.”
He shrugged and took a guest chair on the other side of the desk, putting a speed bump of pretentious oak between them. “I guess it’s my own fault for waiting for you while I was in the friendzone. I did try to get over you – at least in the beginning.”
Severin cast back in his memory for names. “Subira, Jenn, Tabitha?”
“Among others. Once, I went on a date with a man who sort of looked like you, but I bailed after dinner.”
The idea of Rodrigo with another man pissed him off. “And I’m supposed to assume that was because he didn’t measure up to me, somehow? Because I’m so fucking charming? Maybe he was too pretty for you.”
“He just wasn’t you.”
“Minnow isn’t me, either.”
“Minnow is Minnow. She’s perfect for me. She’s not a replacement for you. I would have tried to seduce her, myself, if you hadn’t met her first. I would have kept her too, if she allowed it.”
Tension tightened every muscle in Severin’s body, but he wasn’t sure why. I
t just happened sometimes around Rodrigo. He thought about it – gave himself permission to examine it rather than ignore it the way he usually did – and realized it was the same tension he got when he fucked with Minnow, like when he used to push things onto the floor just to make her clean them up. Hell, he used to do similar shit to Rodrigo. He was here to do it again, if he was honest with himself.
“Give me a tattoo.”
Rodrigo shifted in his seat. “Now?”
Clarity settled on him.
Fuck.
How many times had he shown up here demanding Rodrigo drop everything and tattoo him? Had it been some sort of twisted flirtation? Had he been awkwardly flirting with Rodrigo all along?
That was a humiliating revelation.
Half the work Rodrigo had done on him had been from the sheer pleasure of making him do it, he’d just never admitted to himself what his motivation was. He got pleasure from making Ro put everything else on hold and submitting to him. Of course he loved the tattoos, but he also loved this part of it. The power struggle where he told Rodrigo what to do, they fenced back and forth with words, this man – who commanded others and was a shark in the financial world – bent to his will.
He’d bought the tattoo equipment and made Rodrigo start tattooing again, even though he’d thought he’d left that part of his life behind. Making Rodrigo pierce his nipples, and his dick hadn’t seemed sexual at the time. Now he had to admit he’d gotten off on making Ro do it.
“How may I be of service?” Rodrigo shifted in his chair, his gaze falling to the stack of paper on his desk. Too busy to give him a tattoo, or having trouble meeting Severin’s gaze?
“Like I said, just a tattoo.”
“Where?”
“My shin.”
Rodrigo gave a curt nod and rose, gesturing to the door. “At least you’re not insisting I add more fishing tackle to your dick. Shall we?”
“You’re not going to give me some sort of shitty excuse about being busy?”
“I am busy, but we both know how this is going to play out. I can’t deny you anything. All of this can wait, anyway.”
He led Severin down the stairs to the room that had been set up as Severin’s own private tattoo studio. The only other person who’d ever been worked on in this room was Minnow, and he’d been there for that. The memory of Rodrigo piercing her nipples was already making him semi-hard, as though the echo of her pain and fear still filled the room.
Severin sat in the chair and yanked up his pant leg, then rolled it to keep it in place. Rodrigo set about readying his ink and covering the requisite surfaces with plastic. When he moved to put the foot of the chair up, Severin stopped him.
“No.”
“But I need...”
“No. You’ll be a good boy and kneel at my feet while you tattoo me.”
Rodrigo met his eyes briefly, and Severin caught a hint of a blush along his golden skin. “God, do I sound like that much of an ass when I boss Minnow around?”
Severin grabbed a handful of Rodrigo’s hair, close to the scalp, and growled, “What’s your safeword, puppy?”
Ro exhaled shakily and opened his mouth, but all that came out was a weird sound of distress.
“I don’t think I’ll remember that,” Severin said, smirking.
“I just –” Rodrigo rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t think this was ever going to happen, and I feel...unprepared.”
“Did you forget to wax your asshole?” Severin snorted. “I’m not fucking you today, princess.”
Now Rodrigo was definitely blushing, and the sight of his discomposure made Severin chuckle.
“Strip.”
“What?” Rodrigo’s horrified gaze flew to his.
“Take your fucking clothes off,” he explained. “It’s not a difficult concept.”
Rodrigo squeezed his eyes shut as if he was bracing to dive from an unfamiliar cliff. He blew out another breath and stripped off his T-shirt, then looked to Severin for approval.
The bitch was stalling. Severin snapped his fingers to hurry him up, wanting to make sure he was naked before he thought things through too much. If this became a battle of wills, Severin wasn’t sure he knew how to win against another man who was usually dominant.
“Pants too?” he asked miserably.
“Everything. Shoes, pants, underwear, and God help you if you leave on your socks.”
Rodrigo barked a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think I can make those over-the-knee socks sexy the way Minnow can.” He kicked off his boots and pulled off his socks, then unbuttoned his jeans, apparently determined to pretend this was the same as going swimming at the lake together.
Severin tried not to stare as Ro slipped his jeans down, displaying the vee of muscle, the narrow hips – all of the parts of him that Severin always had to try not to gawk at. Luckily when Minnow was in the room and naked, it made it easier to ignore Rodrigo’s sensual mouth, his broad chest, the six-pack and shallow indent of his navel, his wide shoulders and the hollows in sides of his ass cheeks.
Once his jeans were off, there was no hiding his erection, but Rodrigo pretended he didn’t care. Severin almost would have believed him except for the one furtive glance that spoke of Rodrigo’s submissive feelings toward him. They weren’t always obvious, but most of the time Severin picked up on them now. He had a small feeling of victory. Maybe he could dominate another dominant in this case, if only because Ro wanted him. But to do what, exactly?
When he was only in his boxer briefs, Severin arched a brow.
“Are you safewording this?”
“I don’t have a safeword.”
“Pick one.”
“Bastard.”
“No,” Severin fought back a grin. “Too much of a chance you’ll say that while I’m beating you sometime.”
Rodrigo laughed nervously. “Okay. My safeword is mercy.”
“Is that what you want from me? Mercy?”
He didn’t respond, staring at the small pots of ink he’d readied and left sitting on his stand up tool chest.
“If you’re uncomfortable, blame your dick. You’re leaving a wet spot on your underwear.”
“Fuck. Why is this so much more fun when we’re doing it to Minnow?”
“Because you’re almost as much of an asshat as I am. I know you – you’d rather dish it out than take it, which is why I wonder what you think you’ll get out of submitting to me. Sex?”
“It’s not about the sex.” Standing there in his underwear, the usually unflappable Rodrigo was wide-eyed, vulnerable and maybe a bit afraid. “Not all about the sex,” he clarified.
Severin bit the inside of his cheek. “Why would you want me, rather than a dominant who knows what they’re doing?”
“You’ve always made me feel this way.” He shrugged, the muscles in his shoulders bunching. “I’d hoped it was a temporary fascination I’d developed with you, but it’s been years now.” He smiled crookedly, and his hands flattened against his thighs. “I’ve never wanted someone else to dominate me.”
“Underwear off.”
Rodrigo looked at the ceiling, as though hoping something up there would help make complying easier, or something that would change Severin’s mind. “I never understood why this was difficult for submissives. Now I get it. Undressing is one thing, but stripping because someone tells you to is different.”
“You’re stalling.”
“I...am,” he admitted, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment then stripping his underwear off in one motion. When Ro was completely naked, his cock jutted, hard and thick and straight, the tip glistening with pre-come. Ro couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Why is your cock so hard, puppy?” Severin whispered, his voice harsh.
Rodrigo said something in Spanish.
He stretched out a foot and shoved Rodrigo’s thigh with the sole of his boot. “What was that?”
“I told you to go fuck yourself,” he admitted. “Sir.”
Severin cocked his hea
d. “You know what? How about you stand right there and jerk off like a good boy.”
Rodrigo glared at him. “You’re not serious.”
“If I have to repeat myself, you won’t like what happens.” He wasn’t sure what he would do if Rodrigo refused, but he’d think of something terrible. Hell, he sort of hoped he made him repeat himself. Severin was already hard, and the idea of hurting Rodrigo was making his dick ache worse.
“Fuck. I really hate you sometimes.”
“That means I’m doing my job.”
He groaned, but wrapped one of his hands around his cock anyway, even though he was looking away and doing his best to pretend Severin wasn’t in the room.
“Eyes on me, puppy.”
Rodrigo’s gaze flicked up to his, and his tight-lipped humiliation as he stroked his cock made Severin struggle to maintain his indifferent façade. He alternated between watching the way Rodrigo handled himself, trying to memorize what he liked, then feeling weird about that for some reason, then watching his face as his eyes hazed with lust, lips parted as he watched Severin watching him. Trying to look bored and slightly disdainful while his dick felt like it was going to punch a hole through his jeans was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
Rodrigo’s hips started to buck and he gritted his teeth.
“Stop.”
“Fuck!” Ro let go of himself, his cock pulsing angrily. Pre-come dripped from the tip of his dick to the floor and his stomach was taut. His thunderous expression made Severin wonder if he’d take a swing at him.
Severin smiled coldly and fished what he’d stolen from Minnow out of his pocket.
“A hair elastic? What’s that for?” Rodrigo snapped. “You want me to braid your hair for you now?”
“Cock ring.”
Ro let loose a string of Spanish profanity.
“Put it on then put your hands on the fucking wall.”
Teeth bared in a feral smile, Ro grabbed the elastic out of his hand and slid it on, his expression mocking.
“Tighter.”
Rodrigo twisted the elastic and slipped the second loop over. He grunted in discomfort.
Severin arched a brow.
Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology Book 2) Page 7