by RGAlexander
He was looking down between their bodies, watching his cock disappear into that tight hole again and again, when he heard Ken’s broken shout. “Brady.”
Primal satisfaction seared up his spine when he saw the head of Ken’s flushed cock pulse as he came. He wanted to taste it. Wanted to lick every last drop off Ken’s stomach and take him in his mouth until he was ready to do it again.
But he could feel Ken’s muscles pulsing and squeezing his cock as he came. It was too good. He needed to come. Nothing between them. Nothing to stop his climax from filling Ken’s ass. The last thought pushed him over the edge. He let go of Ken’s wrists, sliding his hands down to his slick shoulders as he came. “Inside you. Fuck, Ken, I’m coming inside you, baby.” No one else.
“Yes.”
He was blind with adrenaline and ecstasy and the feeling that he was home. Right now. With Ken… “Fuck.”
Ken wrapped his arms and legs around Brady, rocking him as he shook with the force of his orgasm. “That was…”
“I know.”
More than he could have expected or hoped for...
And scary as hell.
Chapter Six
The sounds of family surrounded him as soon as Brady walked in the door of Noah and Wyatt’s townhouse—barked orders, loud conversations and laughter. All the chaos of home that he’d missed when he was overseas, and the new voices that had been added along the way. He grinned as he took it all in.
“Stephen? Grab Little Sean before you go upstairs.”
“Rory, I told you to put those rolls in the oven four times. The roast is almost done and you’re still texting this week’s Romeo.”
“Wyatt, Penny drew on your bathroom wall.”
“Never rat out family, Jake. Your Great-Grandpa Finn learned that the hard way.”
“Wyatt, do not tell that story to the kids.”
Brady glanced over his shoulder at the wide-eyed Ken. “You still have time to escape. No one’s spotted you yet.”
Little Sean instantly made him a liar. “Uncle Necky!”
Brady bent down to scoop up the running three-year-old before he could reach Ken’s legs. “Uncle Necky, huh? Don’t I get a hello?”
Sean patted his cheeks with sticky hands and smiled. “’Lo, Brady.” His large brown eyes turned back toward Ken and his hands went to his own shaggy black curls. “Braid,” he demanded.
Stephen appeared beside them, no tie and his sleeves rolled up. Penny’s twin Wes was right behind him, the little blond mimicking every move he made. “There he is. Wes and I are supposed to get him washed up for dinner, but he keeps eluding us, the slippery bugger.”
“He is a slippery bugger,” Wes agreed. Brady winked at him.
Stephen saw Tanaka and showed momentary surprise before recovering with his usual aplomb. He was a natural politician—he knew how to put people at ease. “Hey there, Ken. I didn’t know you were coming to the Finn Again.”
“It was last minute,” Ken responded. “I hope it’s not an imposition.”
Stephen laughed and shook his head. “If you’re brave enough to join this mob, there’s no such thing. Let me get the scamp scrubbed and we can talk more at dinner. I have something I wanted to run by Brady anyway.”
Brady frowned. He did?
Stephen grabbed Little Sean from him and headed toward the bathroom before he could find out more, and he and Brady watched Sean struggling to escape the senator’s grasp, shouting, “Braid! Uncle Necky! Braid!”
“Run by you later, Brady.” Wes threw him the peace sign, then raced after Stephen.
Brady looked at Ken and grinned. “You did say you wanted to come, Uncle Necky. This is on you.”
“I can’t believe he remembers me.” Ken was still staring after Sean. “I haven’t seen him since Tasha’s wedding.”
“You made a big impression.”
“I gave him cake.”
Brady snorted. “Everyone gave him cake. Have you seen him? He’s adorable and he always gets his way. Seamus said he was on a sugar high for the next day and a half.”
Ken put his hand on Brady’s forearm. Just a light touch, but it felt too intimate for the family setting. “Did Stephen say this was a Finnegan?”
“Not Finnegan. Finn. Again. Blame Tasha. She got her way because no one else wanted monthly takeout from Ruby’s.”
Ken was smiling. “I know how she seriously she takes Ruby’s. Why Finn Again?”
“I told you we started doing this every month, all the cousins getting together to eat and catch up?”
Ken nodded. Brady had told him how new it was. With their fathers’ long, silent war, the cousins had rarely spent much time together unless they took it for themselves. Brady’s move to Owen’s house and job with Stephen had given them more of an excuse.
“Well, we’ve actually done it twice a month since Uncle Shawn got out of the hospital. The other meal includes our parents, which, thanks to Solomon the Elder, is awkward, short on interesting details and long on uncomfortable silence. Tasha called this one the Finn Again so we wouldn’t forget which meal was which and whether or not we had to behave. I guess it stuck.”
Ken’s expression was bemused as he took in the chaos around him. “You do this twice a month?”
Brady’s smile faltered. “It’s not mandatory and it’s rarely at the same location, but yeah. More or less.”
Had this been a mistake? Ken was used to a lot of space and a solitary lifestyle outside of the club. Wyatt and Noah’s townhouse wasn’t as small as Rory or Solomon’s place, but with everyone crammed inside, it might as well have been.
He’d only mentioned the dinner because they’d both been tense about tomorrow’s task and he thought Ken might get a kick out of the madness. Now he was worried it was too much. After the last few days, he didn’t want to do anything to push him away.
Brady couldn’t think of another relationship he’d been in where his emotions had been so complicated and intense. One minute, it felt like it was happening so fast that he wasn’t even sure there’d been time to call it a relationship. The next it was—something. Definitely something. With potential for more.
For him it already felt like more. At night he still slipped away and slept across the hall to deal with his nightmares alone, but the rest of the time he was equal parts anxious, aroused and over the damn moon, discovering a side of himself, both in and out of the bedroom, that he’d always been afraid to explore until Tanaka.
Brady had been learning more about him as well. His parents had both been workaholics, despite their financial comfort. He had memories of traveling all over the world, but not that many of family dinners or fun. The details about his time as foster brother to the Wahls made it clear it hadn’t been an easy fit for any of the boys—not just Ken. Dale and Terry had been younger and angry that Ken’s presence caused so much upheaval. They’d had to share a room, their mother had had to get a new job with longer hours and Ken was too caught up in his own grief to be interesting. It set the tone for three years of thinly veiled animosity that Patricia had never seen.
It hurt Brady’s heart to know that Ken had been punishing himself for something he’d had no control over. He couldn’t have saved Dale from his fate, but he was doing everything in his power to save Terry so the woman who had taken him in wouldn’t lose both her sons. Brady couldn’t help but admire that.
Ken Tanaka had been alone for most of his life. Love interests and kink mentoring aside, he’d had no family to support him. No one to praise his accomplishments or give him hell when he was making the wrong decision.
In a small way it reminded him of Jeremy’s situation. His parents hadn’t died but they might as well have, kicking him out of the house when he was fourteen, but at least he’d had Owen, Ellen and Shawn to help him heal. Ken hadn’t been able to really connect with anyone apart from lovers and professors until he joined his first fetish community. People accepted him there, appreciated his talents. Gave him friendship without asking for something in re
turn.
Ken deserved to be loved, to have family, but Brady didn’t know if that was what he wanted. Tanaka had been an island for a long time. Maybe he was happy with what he had and Brady was projecting. Looking for a sign that Ken might want to be a part of his crowded, messy life.
Tomorrow Brady would have his last date with Cal, meet this Vargas guy and force himself to smile so Ken could find his foster brother. Maybe they’d get lucky and Terry would be there. Brady wasn’t sure what came after that. He wasn’t sure if Ken wanted anything to come after that. He hated the uncertainty.
“Brady? Is everything okay?”
He didn’t get the chance to answer Ken’s question because the others had seen him and finally made their way over.
“Tanaka?”
“Ken!”
“Who invited Hacker Guy to the Finn Again?”
Tasha pushed through the crowd of males and wrapped her arms around Ken with a sexy smile. The soft swell of her abdomen, only just beginning to show in her fourth month of pregnancy, made her curvy figure even more beautiful. “It’s so nice to see my two heroes together again.”
She leaned back in his arms and sent Brady a wink. “Hey there, Hot Body Man. What’s a piece of apple pie like you doing with this salted caramel confection?”
Brady raised his eyebrow. “He’s just visiting his good friend, Sugar Buns. Speaking of…how’s the one in your oven?”
“I like it when you sass.” She smirked and met Ken’s gaze. “Can that be my new nickname in the media? Sugar Buns sounds so much sexier than Mom-in-Waiting or Senator Finn’s Baby Mama.”
Ken kissed her and smiled. “I thought the Baker of the Finns was interesting if a little cannibalistic. But for you, I’ll work on Sugar Buns. You look good, Tasha.”
Brady’s brother Noah joined them, chuckling. “Baker of what now? Who pays them to write that shit?”
“Morons.” Solomon nodded to Brady, his blue eyes sparkling despite his ever-present frown. “Nice to see you, Brady. I wasn’t sure you’d make it. Now that you have, tell Noah to watch his mouth. Apparently Penny and Wes spent days repeating what they heard here. So did Jake. His middle school takes that kind of language seriously, even when it’s a bookworm defending himself against a bully. His teacher sent him to detention.”
“Is Jake being bullied?” Noah’s voice lowered dangerously. “I can show him a few moves if he wants. He damn sure won’t need to swear to get his point across.”
Solomon sighed. “Yes, let’s teach him how to fight. I’m sure Seamus would approve. Jackass.”
Brady bit the inside of his cheek, knowing it would be a Herculean task for his brothers to get through an entire meal without swearing. They’d always blamed Salty Sol and the lack of a good female influence, but with Papa Seamus around, that excuse wasn’t working anymore.
The door behind them opened and they all turned around in time to see Brady’s cousin Jennifer rushing in with a large, plastic container. She blew a strand of strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes and smiled. “Am I late again?”
There was a collective gasp when the container slipped from her hands and the bisque she’d been in charge of getting from the deli splattered all over the floor, her shoes and the cuffs of her jeans. “Son of a bitch,” she swore loudly, bending down to start scooping the hot soup up with her hands. “I’m so sorry. Ouch—damn it. I definitely need a towel for this.”
“Son of a bitch!” Penny sang as she ran past them toward the kitchen, and all the men started to laugh.
“Not my fault this time,” Noah chortled, towel in hand as he tugged Jen gently to her feet. “Go clean yourself up, princess. We’ve got this under control.”
Brady frowned as she headed up the stairs. Her hands had been shaking and she looked frazzled. “What’s going on with Jen?”
“Little Finn?” Tasha responded lightly. “She just spilled soup on her pants. Oh, and I think she has a test coming up. She’s fine, Brady.”
He narrowed his eyes on Stephen’s wife. Leave it alone. That’s what she was really saying. Which meant something was definitely up.
Was her ex-fiancé back? Someone from the club bothering her? Or was this about Trick?
Seamus distracted him by grabbing the back of Noah’s collar and fast-walking with him to the kitchen. “I think something’s burning in your oven, Firefighter.”
Solomon flinched and then he was right behind them, shouting for Rory, who’d apparently forgotten to set a timer for the rolls.
It took forty minutes to air out the kitchen, get the table set, sit the four kids in front of the flat screen and settle everyone else around the card tables Wyatt and Noah had pushed together and covered with a brand new tablecloth. When Brady pointed out the price tag still attached to the fabric, Wyatt shrugged. “We don’t like to cook. I’m just glad we didn’t have to buy silverware.”
Noah lifted his beer bottle in agreement. “We do, however, have enough takeout menus to live like kings. And now, thanks to this becoming a regular thing, we have something to bring back to the firehouse besides stories of debauchery and our own charming selves.”
Wyatt clinked his beer bottle to Noah’s. “To leftovers.”
“Amen.”
Solomon—seated at the head of the table—looked around the room at the others and nodded. “Let’s eat.”
During the few minutes that everyone was occupied with filling their plates, Brady leaned close to Ken and whispered, “Sorry you came?”
“Hardly,” he replied quietly. “I’m surrounded by gorgeous blue-eyed Irishmen who can make an ordinary dinner into an adventure. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much.”
“Really, Tanaka? I can. It was only a few hours ago.”
Ken paused with a spoon full of mashed potatoes hovering over his plate and Brady looked around uncomfortably. “Sorry.” Had he actually been flirting with Ken in front of his family? Brady didn’t flirt, and he didn’t want Ken to feel awkward if he didn’t want them to know. “Sorry,” he mumbled again.
“Don’t be.” Ken passed him the bowl and their fingers touched. “I’m not.”
At the other end of the table Rory noticed. “Hey now. What’s going on with you two?”
Brady wanted to kiss his cousin when Seamus answered before he could. “They’re on another job, I think. Like the Burke thing.”
“Is that what’s happening?” Stephen stood up to reach for a casserole dish of green beans before continuing, “Thank God. I was trying to come up with a subtle way of asking Brady if he’d lost his mind.”
Brady felt his mouth open in surprise. “Me? What are you talking about?”
“Cal Grimes is what I’m talking about. My assistant. Well, he used to be until a month ago. He’s still got a desk and comes in once a week to help my new assistant get acclimated.” Stephen paused. “And on that desk there is now a framed photo of you in uniform.”
Ken laughed as Brady covered his face with his hands and groaned, “Kill me now.”
“Why thank God?” Wyatt asked before shoving a piece of roast in his mouth.
“He was always very ambitious. A few months ago he started to express his dissatisfaction and last month we agreed he’d outgrown his current position.”
Tasha smirked. “Let me translate for the senator. Cal went crazy. Not only did he start doing opposition research for other people and spend his free time elbow-rubbing the kind of lobbyists and politicians Stephen usually avoids, but he started acting so strangely, I thought he might be on drugs. Stephen quietly asked for his resignation and the man actually laughed.”
“No comment,” Stephen said, ruining his faux-severity by winking at his wife. “Anyway, now I feel bad if his behavior is connected to this sting of Tanaka’s. Is it another federal case?”
“No,” Ken answered. “And don’t feel bad. If you wanted a second opinion, all I can tell you is that I agree. He’s crazy.”
“I see.” Stephen lowered his brows in c
oncern. “If my office can do anything to help, you know I’m in. I have some experience.”
Tasha leaned over to kiss her husband. “One undercover operation and you’re going to milk it for the rest of our lives, aren’t you, 007?”
“With the bad guy behind bars and the girl in my arms? Damn right.”
Jen nudged Brady and gestured toward the salt, then looked across the table at Seamus. “Not to change the subject, especially one that interesting, but I thought Jeremy and Owen would be here.”
Seamus looked surprised. “You didn’t get the text?”
She shook her head.
“I could have sworn I sent everyone a text.” He raised his voice to include the rest of the table. “Did anyone get my message about Owen and Jeremy?”
Tasha waggled her fingers. “I didn’t get a message from you, but Jeremy managed to send me a funny video of Owen at the airport demanding that he turn off his phone and stop texting me. I haven’t heard from him since so I guessed they went on vacation. Was I right?”
Everyone at the table turned to Seamus, whose quick glance toward the living room made it clear he felt like swearing. “I was sure I sent a text. And Tasha’s right. They left a few days ago. Owen said they’d be gone for two weeks and to tell everyone not to worry if they couldn’t get ahold of them.”
Brady shared a look with Ken. That must have been the romantic idea Owen had had when he’d purchased plane tickets instead of pizza. “Good for them,” he said.
Was Owen actually going to propose? He hoped so. Jeremy was truly one of the good ones.
Seamus snorted at Brady, obviously thinking along the same lines. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t come back blaming you because it all blew up in his face.”
Determined not to have his drunken lecture become the focus of a family interrogation, Brady rushed to fill the silence. “I don’t see James either. He always seems to work a double on the nights we get together. Why is his boss such a…” he paused, remembering the children. “Jerk?” he finished proudly.
Solomon—James’ boss—glared at his younger brother. “He’s busy. Police work doesn’t leave a lot of time for extracurricular activities. I’m sure you remember what it was like to work for a living. All those criminals to catch.”