Chapter 18
DEVON
T’es un idiot.
A word my mother said never to use. Not about others…and certainly not about myself. A word that was identical in both English and French. I hadn’t used French much in Toronto and I used it even less in British Columbia.
Mom, I’ll try better. I don’t want to lose what little I have left.
Before she died, she’d made a series of recordings.
On cassettes. I kept those tapes along with a cassette player—so I’d always have one because, God knew, I almost never saw them anymore.
In the thirteen years since she’d passed, I hadn’t been able to listen to them.
But they were always tucked into my suitcase.
Most people worried about losing electronics or some shit if their suitcase got stolen.
I worried about losing my mom. You need to make copies. You need to put them in a safe deposit box. Now I was settled in Abbotsford, that was something I needed to consider.
And still, I sat.
In my car.
Gazing at the cabin on the ocean that Jack had rented in Tofino.
For six entire days.
T’es un idiot. Whether because I wasn’t going in or because I was here was entirely up for debate.
I eyed the suitcase on the seat next to me. I’d carried it up onto the ferry deck with me since I hadn’t been allowed to stay in my car for the ride from the mainland to Vancouver Island. Yeah, no one was going to break into my car, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being away from my toys.
Movement caught my eye.
Jack stood at the open front door, his arms wrapped around himself and his hair whipping in the bitter February wind.
Off the fucking Pacific Ocean. A place I’d never been.
I’d visited the Atlantic, of course. But even when I’d played in California, I’d never had time to run out to see this vast expanse of water.
Our gazes clashed.
I read the uncertainty. The trepidation. Likely mirrored my own—but I couldn’t show that weakness. In other contexts, I didn’t always consider weakness a disaster. In this moment, though? Catastrophic. He needed me on my game.
My A-game.
I exited my car. I moved around the back and made my way to my passenger side. As if I had all the time in the world, I opened the door and removed my suitcase. I slammed the door shut.
Jack jerked as if he’d been shot.
Another gust of wind.
“Are you coming in?” Jack’s voice shook.
I advanced toward him.
He held his ground.
I continued to watch him. Then, I took a deep breath.
“When I step into this cabin, I’m in charge.
Completely. I tell you when to eat, when to sleep, when to piss, and when to—” I floundered.
Damn. I had this all worked out in my mind.
Seeing his dark-brown eyes, all needy and ready to submit, derailed me.
We hadn’t gone into specifics—no texting and all that—but I’d assumed the invitation had been extended, at least in part, because of the BDSM.
“Yes, Sir. Whatever you want. Give me six days.”
As I’d made the trip—from the ferry terminal in West Vancouver to Nanaimo and then the drive to Tofino—I’d had time to plan this all out. Six hours of anticipation.
Well, really a week and a half since I’d answered his text and agreed to this.
A week and a half of anticipation. Of no communication except in a professional capacity. No texting. No Facetiming. Just…anticipation.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” I handed him the suitcase. “You may put this in the bedroom. Then I want a tour.”
“And…?”
“Dinner, negotiations and, if we’re on the same page, our first scene tonight.”
He licked his lips.
Another gust of wind blew.
He stood aside so I could enter first.
“Good boy.” I uttered the words as I passed him.
Jack always fell into submission so easily. How the fuck was he married for all those years and his idiot ex-husband never noticed? That word again. Sorry, Maman. If the shoe fits…
Speaking of shoes—I toed off my sneakers. Then stepped from the entrance way into the main room.
I could admit to my breath being stolen.
Floor-to-ceiling windows. The front of the cabin was one story, but the ceiling height in this room had to be sixteen feet. I couldn’t fathom how much sun would pour in during the day and as the sun set, since the cabin faced due west.
The ocean churned with constant waves of white. The sky beyond was a foreboding dark gray as far as the eye could see.
I’d left Abbotsford in darkness this morning, wanting to get here during daylight. A trip worth making, if only for this view.
Jack returned from the room to the right. “Primary bedroom.”
I chuckled to myself. He assumed we’d be sharing. If I relegated him to sleeping in the bathtub, then he’d totally do it.
That wouldn’t be necessary, of course. I wanted him in my bed. As long as he was a good boy, that was a privilege I’d happily bestow upon him. If it happened to make me feel satisfied as well? Just a bonus.
I sniffed the air.
“Lasagna.” He gestured to the kitchen—which was on the back wall of the huge room.
“I…was optimistic. We have several prepared meals that just need to be heated. As well as plenty of ingredients if we want to cook for ourselves. There’s a restaurant in town that’s open.
This being the offseason, hardly anyone is here.
We wouldn’t—” He swallowed. “We won’t be recognized. ”
He was likely right. Even a once-high-profile hockey player like him wouldn’t turn many heads.
If he’d been a prominent Canadian player, yes.
But an American who hadn’t been a generational talent?
Less likely. We’d be two men just having dinner over six hours away from home.
And we could call Abbotsford home. Jack had moved into a three-bedroom, two-bathroom bungalow.
I was in a one-bedroom condo in the U-District, just a stone’s throw away from the rink.
Lucked out on that one.
I arched an eyebrow. “Good boys get rewarded. If you want to go out—and you’ve been a really good boy—then I think that can be arranged.”
His eyes shone with obvious pleasure.
My stomach rumbled. “Food, and we’ll talk.”
He nodded. “I’ll pull it out of the oven. While it cools, I can give you the tour.”
The actual tour took about five minutes.
Primary bedroom with a stunning view of the ocean. An attached bathroom with a huge shower and a bathtub that could fit two massive men easily, which meant narrower guys like us would have plenty of room.
I made a note of that.
Upstairs, there were two bedrooms that faced a wooded area.
I might’ve checked the price for cabins in Tofino. A week? Even off-season, this was costing Jack a fortune. Peak summer season would be ridiculous. Yet part of me wondered about coming here in July. After hockey season was over. Where we could sit on the sand, swim in the surf, and enjoy the sun.
The meteorologist predicted four days of rain and chilly temperatures. One day of sun was forecasted. If I’d learned anything about Canadian weather, though, it was that predictions were just that—educated guesses.
“Sir?” Jack swept his arm back toward the stairs.
I had been staring at the second bathroom for an excessively long time. “Just checking everything out. The things I can do to you in this shower.” I headed back toward the main living space. “How’s your knee?”
“Fine.” He headed toward the cooling lasagna. “I barely feel it—”
“Barely feel it and fine are two different things. I need to know your physical limitations. Don’t worry about being too honest—I can work with whatever you give me. But you have to be honest—”
“No bondage.” Without meeting my gaze, he cut two slices of lasagna and put them on plates. He handed one to me, not meeting my gaze.
“Look at me.” I commanded with a bite.
His gaze snapped to mine.
“You’ve said that was a limit before, and I’ll absolutely respect it. You don’t need to be embarrassed or worry about my feelings. Not all bottoms like to be tied up. Sometimes the fun is forcing someone to stand still when they don’t have restraints. All kinds of chaos can ensue.”
He blinked. “Okay.”
“We need to talk about this. Not tonight…but eventually you need to let me know what happened. Because clearly something did. I’m not a psychologist—but even I can see the damage it’s caused.” I held up my plate. “Good job setting the table.”
His cheeks pinkened. With pleasure at being praised? I was always liberal with my praise. And he had a praise kink. So we’d work with this. He gestured toward the table.
I went first and sat in the chair that faced the outside. Night would soon be upon us, and I wanted to enjoy the view as much as I could before darkness shrouded us. I used the knife and fork he’d set out—along with a silver-colored cloth napkin.
The fragrance of tomato sauce hit me full-force. I took a bite and moaned. After chewing and swallowing, I grinned. “Well done.”
“I only heated it up. Someone else—”
“Jack.” Sharp.
His gaze flew to mine.
“When I say well done, then that’s praise for you. You selected it. You heated it to the perfect temperature. And, frankly, this is almost as good as my mother’s. So when I say well done, I fucking mean it.”
Again, he blinked. “This is hard.” He broke my gaze to cut a piece.
Now the realization dawned. For all his professional successes, he still had a failed marriage in his past. That was likely to continue to dog him if he didn’t deal with it.
So I added it to the list of things we’d tackle.
When he’d swallowed, I smiled. “Now…we’ve talked about hard limits. That’s fine. Why don’t we try a new track? What do you want to try?”
Even as I thought of all my toys in my bag, my cock started to chub.
“What—” He swallowed. “What are my options?”
Oh, this is going to be so much fun.