Chapter 25
AARON
“Hey, Aaron, look alive!” Mark nudged him with an elbow and snapped another selfie. It was a beautiful, sunny day, they were creeping toward the top of the Centennial Wheel, and the Chicago skyline served as a magnificent backdrop, yet Aaron’s smile looked forced in every picture.
“Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Mark complained after another failed shot and turned to his girlfriend. “Come on, get in the frame.”
Rachel laughed and shook her head. “It’s adorable how excited you are about documenting every single place we visit, but I told you, I don’t want my face on social media.”
“This one will be just for us and our scrapbook.” Mark snaked his arm around Rachel’s waist and pulled her closer. They shared a sweet kiss while Aaron watched them with a wistful ache in his chest.
He was happy for Mark, happy for the joy he found with the warm, free-spirited woman who’d never batted an eyelash at Mark and Aaron’s post-divorce friendship. Their whirlwind romance had given Aaron hope for his own happy ending.
If only he knew how many chapters there were left to go.
His hand moved to his pocket on instinct, reaching for a phone that wasn’t there.
He missed Jay. Hopefully, the bubbly receptionist had relayed his message, but the silence between them still left him uneasy.
He had almost given her Mark’s number to pass along to Jay, but to what end?
They weren’t boyfriends. They didn’t have to stay in constant contact.
It was weird enough that Aaron had called Jay’s job to leave a message after only two days.
Fuck, did Jay think it was weird? He probably hadn’t even noticed Aaron’s silence. Still, Aaron didn’t regret calling. Just in case Jay had noticed, Aaron didn’t want him to be concerned.
“Can I borrow your phone?” he asked Mark after he emerged from the kiss.
“Tracking your package every ten minutes isn’t going to make it go any faster,” Mark huffed, opening the browser and refreshing the screen. Unsurprisingly, nothing had changed since the last time they checked. His new phone was still sitting at a facility in Hodgkins.
They finished their ride and followed Rachel as she bounced around the Navy Pier. Her energetic pace was a welcome distraction for Aaron, since dipping into every shop to buy touristy knickknacks helped keep his mind off Jay.
Mostly.
As much as he tried, unwelcome thoughts crept in anyway, taking root.
The past forty-eight hours have made one thing clear—Aaron was getting far too attached to Jay.
And what could he possibly expect to happen?
A happily ever after? No, Jay was young and attractive, a sexy Dom who could have anyone he wanted, while Aaron floundered in uncharted waters, constantly off-kilter.
Up until a few months ago, Aaron had never thought twice about who he was. He knew himself, was comfortable in his own skin, moved through the world with easy confidence. These days, he barely recognized himself—so full of doubts and anxieties that had never existed before.
His stomach twisted with embarrassment when he remembered his breakdown at modeling night. Jay had been sweet and supportive at the time, but his patience might wear thin one day. And now, Aaron had disappeared to spend time with his guests and stopped responding to messages.
Jay would be well within his rights to rethink their relationship and find someone else. Someone who was easier to deal with. Someone more accommodating. Someone better.
Over lunch at one of the waterfront restaurants, Aaron barely stopped talking, asking question after question about Mark and Rachel’s new house. If either of them found his ongoing chatter strange, they didn’t say anything.
After the meal, with the earthy taste of truffle fries still lingering in Aaron’s mouth, he suggested a leisurely stroll down the pier.
Leaving the lovebirds to their hushed conversation, he walked ahead to enjoy the view.
The familiar scent of salty air soothed his nerves, relaxing his muscles one at a time.
He closed his eyes and faced the sun, breathing in deeply and listening to the gulls.
He could feel the gloomy thoughts dissipate in the blinding light, replaced by cautious optimism.
Jay had always been open and honest. Always patient with Aaron’s moods, with the parts of him that needed reassurance more than he liked to admit. Always sweet and understanding. Always perfect.
Aaron exhaled slowly and focused on the warmth on his face.
Jay had never given Aaron a reason to doubt him.
And Aaron wasn’t going to let his brain invent one out of thin air.
Shaking off the remnants of his earlier mood, he walked back to Mark and Rachel and wrapped his arms around their shoulders with a smile. “What’s next?”
He was determined to make the most of the day. And tomorrow, he would get his phone, text Jay, and everything would be back to normal.
* * *
They arrived home exhausted from the long walk, with less than an hour to change before heading out to dinner.
Aaron rushed through the shower, scrubbing the long day off his skin, then threw open his closet.
After picking a fancy restaurant for tonight, Rachel had made it clear they should dress up, though Aaron suspected her insistence was mostly aimed at Mark.
That man would have shown up at his own wedding in jeans if Aaron hadn’t gone suit shopping with him.
Still shirtless, Aaron scanned his options, wondering what would look best without being overdressed, when the intercom buzzed. Mark’s muffled voice followed. A moment later, he yelled from the other room, “Air, you got a delivery!”
Confused, Aaron poked his head out of the bedroom. “My phone’s not due until tomorrow. Besides, there’s a mail room in the building. Why are they even calling?”
“The delivery guy wants to come up.” Mark shrugged. “He says he has to hand the package to you directly, and the doorman doesn’t know what to do.”
“Fine, let him up.” Aaron sighed and threw on the first thing he could reach, then walked into the living room, fumbling with the buttons on his silky mauve shirt just in time to hear a knock.
Aaron opened the door to a young man with a messenger bag slung across his body, holding a cake box. Aaron didn’t remember ordering a cake. Maybe Mark or Rachel did?
“Delivery for Aaron Copeland.” He looked at Aaron expectantly.
“That’s me.”
“I have to make sure it’s delivered directly to the recipient.” The man shifted from foot to foot.
“Hold on.” Aaron grabbed his wallet and pulled out his ID. After a thorough inspection, the package finally made its way into his hands.
“Do I need to sign anything?” Aaron asked.
“Nope, just needed to make sure you got it. Have a good night.”
“Hold up.” Aaron looked at the box from all sides. Lightweight, with a single piece of tape holding it closed, it didn’t look like it could have survived the postal system. “There’s no label.”
“I’m a private courier. We usually travel between offices delivering time-sensitive paperwork, that sort of thing. You’re not a typical customer.” He gave Aaron a thumbs-up and walked toward the elevator.
Unable to keep his curiosity at bay, Aaron peeled back the tape and reached in to grab a small envelope resting on top. He opened it, carefully sliding out a piece of paper.
Meet me at the club. 8 o’clock. Wear everything in this box.
J
Aaron’s heart skipped a few beats as he gaped at the note in his trembling fingers. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside his chest. He couldn’t believe his eyes, rereading the carefully written words over and over.
Jay wanted to see him. Tonight.
He’d found a way to communicate with Aaron.
It was the sweetest gesture Aaron could have imagined.
“What’d you order?” Mark’s words brought him back to the present—standing in the living room and clutching the box to his chest.
“Uhhh.” Aaron wasn’t sure how to respond. He needed to calm his racing thoughts before talking to anyone. “Give me a moment.”
He charged into the bedroom and shut the door, locking it for good measure. Then he sat on the bed, setting the box in front of him, and slowly lifted the tissue paper to reveal the contents. His heart thrummed in anticipation of what he would find. He was expected to wear it—it had to be clothing.
His fingertips brushed over black latex straps, interconnected with buckles like a complicated logic puzzle. Beneath them lay a pair of matching shorts. He touched the shiny material reverently, instantly realizing there was something tucked underneath. A small rectangular box.
He tore through the discrete packaging and blushed at the smooth surface of a compact, slightly curved shape. Its glossy black exterior matched the latex and gleamed under the bedroom lights. A plug. For him. To wear.
Aaron wrapped his fingers around it. He was no stranger to plugs, but this one felt different.
The silicone was velvety soft yet invitingly firm at the same time.
Arousal raced through him at the idea of having it nestled inside him under the revealing clothing.
There was no doubt in his mind that he would do exactly as instructed.
Mark knocked on the door, interrupting his thoughts. “You okay?”
Aaron threw everything back in the box and shoved it under the bed. He wasn’t worried about Mark’s judgment, but the intimate details of his new lifestyle were just for him and Jay, not anyone else.
Running his hands down his face, Aaron hoped his blush had subsided as he left the bedroom.
“I’m fine. Great. Everything’s great.” Aaron’s voice was louder than intended, earning a questioning look from Mark.
“You’re acting weird. Tell us later. We have to leave in the next ten minutes.” Mark assessed his disheveled appearance with a smirk. “Hurry up and finish getting ready. French cuisine waits for no man.”
“I…can’t make it.” Aaron frowned at having to break their dinner plans, but meeting Jay took precedence over everything else. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you my credit card, since it was supposed to be my treat.”
Mark’s amusement transformed into worry. “Shit, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you want us to cancel?”
Rachel peeked out from the guest room, wearing an elegant dark-green cocktail dress. “You’re not feeling well? Let’s stay home and order a pizza.”
Her heartfelt concern made Aaron melt inside. “Rach, you’ve been talking about this restaurant all week, and you look stunning. You are not eating pizza for the second night in a row.” He shifted his gaze to Mark. “Everything’s fine. I’m not feeling sick. I just…have new plans for tonight.”
He paused, not sure how to continue, but Mark’s face lit up with understanding. “Oh snap! Was that delivery from a certain someone?”
A wide grin spread across Aaron’s face as he nodded, unable to contain his happiness. “I’m sorry to miss dinner.”
“No, you’re not.” Mark playfully shoved him on the shoulder. “We have to go, but you make sure to eat something before you take off. Wouldn’t want your growling stomach to interrupt all the hot sex.”
“Oh, hush.” Aaron wasn’t about to engage in that conversation. He ushered Mark and Rachel out and scarfed down a cold slice of leftover pizza before returning to his room. There wasn’t a lot of time left, and he still had to figure out how to put on his new top.
Setting the shorts and the plug aside, he laid out the puzzling web of latex on the bed.
It reminded him of the outfits he’d seen at the club, and after rearranging it a few times, he had a good idea of what to do.
The multiple belts were meant to wind their way up his torso, and the vertical strap anchored everything in place.
He shrugged out of his shirt and fastened the bottom belt around his waist before moving his way up. It felt awkward at first, but by the time he got to the neck, he understood the attraction. Adjusting the buckles so they lined up, he peeked at himself in the mirror.
He looked hot, and he wasn’t even done yet.
After sliding out of his sweatpants and underwear, he pulled on the latex bottoms, holding his breath and tugging as the fabric stuck to his skin and refused to budge.
The room filled with the sounds of his grunting and ragged breathing, making him glad he was alone in the apartment.
With a final yank, the shorts were in place.
The thin fabric stretched to its limit, leaving nothing to the imagination, so tight that he was sure it could double as a cock cage.
One more piece to go before he was ready. Aaron rooted around his nightstand, letting out a sigh of relief when he found the small bottle. Even though he loved the burn of going dry, hours of friction would quickly get unbearable without plenty of lube.
He knelt on the bed and poured a generous amount all over the plug.
Peeling the skintight fabric down, he bent over to stick his exposed ass in the air.
He’d done this in the wrong order. It would have been nice to be able to spread his legs while shoving something into his unprepped hole, but he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
He took a deep breath and relaxed the muscles before pushing the tip in, wincing at the tight fit. Yes, lube had been a fantastic idea.
Unyielding silicone entered his body inch by inch, filling him with pleasure and anticipation. Once the small flared base was flush against his cheeks, Aaron caught his breath. The tip of the plug teased his prostate with every tiny movement, every subtle shift.
Strange enough that Jay got the shorts in just the right size, but how did he manage to find a plug specifically designed to torture Aaron’s prostate?
A string of moans left his body as he struggled to pull the shorts back up.
The situation was more complicated now that Aaron was hard—his dick refused to fit under the tight latex.
He waited for his erection to wane, lying on the bed and thinking unsexy thoughts before he could keep going.
It took a few minutes, but finally, he was presentable.
Outfit complete, he carefully walked back to the mirror, muttering curses under his breath as every step sent a zing of pleasure up his spine.
He had hours of this to look forward to.