Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Travis
With my cock inside of him, I slowly stroke him to the edge, and back off.
I take my time, worshiping all the places I hurt, and then stroke him some more.
When he finally comes, his limbs are limp.
But I’ve got two weeks of pent-up desire for him to make up for.
He’s not getting off easy tonight. I flip him on his back and fuck him some more, until my name’s unrecognizable on his lips.
Only then do I allow him to sleep as I rub aloe into his sore muscles.
Somehow, all that violence? Turned my irascible realist into a ray of fucking sunshine. He could compete with Jack this morning for the Little Miss Optimist title.
“Oh, here, Penny. Let me get that for you,” he says, opening the door for her, letting her into the kitchen.
“What happened to your lip?”
Dirk’s eyes take on a hazy film as if he’s imagining what I did to his lip last night, and more.
“Lion attack.”
Penny rolls her eyes and storms ahead. Other than that, the early morning is pretty usual, but my ever-growing need to touch him is bad.
Worse. I know that by the end of the day, his lip’ll be barely noticeable, and I’ll have the need to bite it again, so he can wear an outward symbol that he’s mine on him.
I refrain, making the mistake of checking my phone instead.
Stacey
Your son’s alive. I’ll take good care of him. Promise.
It’s immediate. The words set my heart off into a wild gallop, pounding through my body, taking me away.
I’m too far away. Dash is too far away. Can’t … can’t help him.
My chest tightens. Easy there, Nolan. I take a slow breath.
The enemy’s tequila, not Robin. Dash must be hurting this morning after pickling his liver.
It’s not even the first time I’ve got a message like that one from Stacey about my son, but the words land differently today.
Uneasy. Like a hard lump I can’t swallow.
I force it down and rub my hand over my face for good measure.
“Everything okay, Trav?” Dirk says with a hand on my neck. “You look like you wanna kill something.”
I do. Robin.
Dirk sets coffee on the bar top for me, careful eyes never leaving me, searing through my skin. He knows me too well, he must know it’s on my mind every minute, every day, since fucking Maxwell brought it up.
He takes a slow breath. I don’t need words to read him, either. I’m making him fucking nervous, but in true Dirk fashion, he says nothing, bearing whatever menace I’m giving off quietly. I don’t want that.
Spinning around, I pull him into my lap. I kiss his neck until he smiles.
“Fuck you, Trav,” he says with a laugh in his voice.
“Any time, baby.”
I tip his chin up, about to really dig in, make a fucking meal out of his mouth, when the door swings open.
Dammit. We didn’t lock that? Cold air and attitude pour in.
Maverick Elkington looking like he just stepped off the cover of some rich-boy magazine, holds the door open, the perfect gentleman, for Bryce Meyer.
Bryce freezes when he sees Dirk on my lap. Maverick’s smirk says oh, this is going to be fun.
Dirk shifts, about to jump away, but I lock my arm around his waist. They’ve caught us, what’s the point in him being any further away from me than he needs to be?
“Shit, Boulder,” Bryce says, gaze flickering to Maverick. It dawns on him. “You knew.”
Maverick shrugs. “I’m a vault when someone gives me a secret, baby, but if you’d asked, I woulda told you. We don’t have secrets.”
He tries to pull Bryce toward him, but Bryce bats his hands away. “What did I say, Elkington? No fucking touching me.”
Maverick stares as if Bryce is a new angel the heavens just released, and holds his hands up, a signal he’ll keep them to himself.
Bryce turns his cornflower blue eyes on us, the rough edge that I’ve picked up as a Meyer trait, blazing through him. “Don’t worry, I don’t give a fuck if you’re fucking.”
“Do all Meyers cuss that much?” I ask.
“Even the little ones,” Dirk says.
“Isn’t he stunning?” Maverick says. “Only reason he doesn’t want me touching him is because he has a weakness for me. Has to keep the hard-to-get thing up.”
“I’m gonna twist your nuts off, Elkington,” Bryce threatens.
I don’t get them. Have I missed something? Are they together? Not together? Hard to tell. Sutter and Casey are—that’s confirmed—but you’d think they were enemies sometimes. These two are … I don’t know. I give up on trying to understand their relationship dynamics.
“Sorry, Trav. Totally forgot I told Bryce to come in so I could train him on prep. There were only so many floor shifts I could give him, and he wanted the extra hours.”
“I keep telling him he doesn’t need to work,” Maverick interjects.
“Maybe some of us like working for a living,” Dirk says.
“I work for a living,” Maverick says. “But my job is fun. Who wants to flip burgers for eight hours?”
“That’s it.” Dirk attempts to break free of my hold. I refuse to let him go. Maverick doesn’t offend me. To be offended by him, I’d have to give a shit about what he thinks. But I can’t hold Dirk back forever.
“Maverick, if you wanna be here, go sit yourself out of my sight or I’m tossing your ass out.”
“Fine, but can I get something to eat?”
“In a minute. Bryce, get your ass in the kitchen. Dirk will be there to help you when I’m done with him.” My tone leaves no room for Maverick to keep toying with him in here.
“Protective all around today, eh? First your boyfriend and now mine,” Maverick says.
“I’m not your boyfriend, Elkington,” Bryce snaps, heaving the two-way door to the kitchen open with one hand.
Maverick stares after him, and the coiled restraint in his muscles says he wants to follow and drag him back caveman style. He doesn’t, opting for a booth that keeps the kitchen door in his line of sight.
My grip on Dirk hasn’t loosened, partly because I’m not done making it clear who he belongs to, and partly because if my hands are on Dirk, they won’t wrap around Maverick’s neck.
“This is a clusterfuck,” Dirk murmurs.
“Can we trust Bryce not to tell anyone?”
“Don’t know, but don’t think it matters either. This is a sign from the universe that we’re reaching the end of our secret-relationship rope. I’d better talk to him.”
I pull his face in for a kiss. “Go.” My lap is cold without him. When we’re out with everyone, his only seat is my lap.
The day doesn’t get better. I knew the letter was coming, but I’d delusionally hoped Maxwell was fucking with me and the prosecutor that I’d reached out to was in on it. But I can’t deny the bold font on the envelope:
Department of Justice Victim Services Unit
And that feeling from this morning, the one that makes me feel like I’m choking on balls of lead?
It’s back with a vengeance. It makes me crave vengeance.
It confirms what Maxwell told me—Robin’s getting out.
But where will he be? How’s Dash supposed to feel safe with him out there?
Bet he spent nine years plotting. Bet Dash is all he’s thought about.
I got Stacey to bring him by the restaurant, so he could help me break the news, but only what he needed to hear.
I didn’t tell him how long I’ve known, and I got the sense from Maxwell that Robin would be getting out even earlier than the date in the letter, but I left that out of the conversation, too.
The less Dash knows, the easier it’ll be to keep him safe if I need to take care of Robin.
“How do you think that went?” I ask Dirk once Stacey’s ushered him out the door.
Dirk stood in the corner. Dash did a double-take when he saw him.
Is he getting suspicious? I lean back in my chair, attempting to let the heavy weight settle, but it doesn’t.
Everything’s everywhere in my mind. As if it’s marched out of neat boxes where I keep it labelled and put away.
Am I looking for reassurance from a man half my age? Dammit, I think I am. But that’s a good thing. I see him as my partner, my equal.
Dirk locks the office door this time before he makes his way back to me, pure smugness beaming from his mug.
“I think you’re about to have a new son-in-law, Trav.”
“Not what I was asking, but yeah, you saw that, too?”
“I know what you were asking, but I’m too damn happy. Finally.”
Stacey made sure Dash sat in his lap when he was getting the news, and I don’t know if either of them realized they were doing it, but they clung to each other as if they were worried someone was coming to snatch the other out of thin air.
“A crowbar couldn’t pry them apart,” I say.
“Right?” He slaps his thigh, grinning. He’s close now, so I tug him into his rightful place—my lap.
“Was I reading it wrong? I thought you wanted to kill Stacey.”
“Only when he’s being an idiot. You smell good.
” He takes a long inhale, resting his head into the crook of my neck.
“And if this goes the way I know it will, you don’t have to worry about Dash.
Stacey isn’t letting anything dangerous get within a centimeter of him.
Did you catch the way Dash relaxed as soon as Stacey took over?
Or were you too busy daydreaming about how you’d murder Robin? ”
“Murder.”
“Travis.”
“There it is. Full name.” I’m not crazy—he does that when he’s pissed at me. Maybe he doesn’t realize he does it? “Do you want me to lie?”
“No, I just wish…” He trails off.
“Wish what?”
“That your lust for vengeance would … stop.”
“He’s my son.”
“I know.”
We’re left to stew in that silence for a while, but at least he’s in my arms. And I don’t wanna ask it, but the growing need to ask him burns in my throat until I have no other choice but to say something or incinerate.
“If I go ahead with what I’m thinking, do I risk losing you, pretty boy?” A cannonball-sized cavern bursts through my chest. My fingers dig into his arms.
Dirk sits up so he can look me in the eyes. “What did I fucking tell you, Trav? You’re it for me. I’d be pissed at you, sure, but I’d still marry you in jail or whatever. Why does everyone think the answer to a little strife means leaving?”
I know he means it. Can feel his conviction with every fiber of my being. Doesn’t stop my fingers from digging deeper.
He lets out an amused laugh. “Would you let me leave if I tried? Honest answer.”
“No. I’d give you some space, sure, but then I’d haul your ass back to where you belong. With me.”
“Hot,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss, then trailing more hot kisses down my neck.
Fuck, I’m riled up now, from all of it—the Robin bullshit, Dash and Stacey, the thought of losing Dirk for one second, those searing kisses—and I need release. I pop the button of Dirk’s jeans.
“Get your ass on my cock, pretty boy,” I growl.
“But the chair arms—gah, okay!” he says when I fumble with his pants.
“These need to come off. Now.”
He stands up, shucking his jeans and boxers off in one go while I yank my desk drawer open, scramble for lube, and whip out my cock. It’s hard and ready for him. I give it a couple of short strokes before dousing it. He stares, licking his lips.
“Right here, pretty boy. It’s ready for you.”
I make him climb on; his thick thighs have to straddle the arms, and we’re too horny to bother with foreplay. He lines himself up with my cock, bearing down as he slowly sinks onto the shaft, swallowing my dick with his ass.
We moan in sync when he’s sheathed inside.
“Fuck, Trav. Feels so good to have you in me, but I dunno how I’m gonna—”
I thrust up. He lets out a pleasure-filled cry. Yeah, he doesn’t have much leverage in this position, but I do. I’d much rather he didn’t, giving me all the control, having him at my mercy.
“You just have to hang onto me and take it, pretty boy.”
“God, oh god,” he sobs.
Gripping his ass, I move it in time with my hips, pistoning upward.
“Lift your shirt, I wanna see your nipples, wanna see you get shy.”
He obliges me, even though, yeah, he does get fucking shy. That blush isn’t just from exertion. He holds his t-shirt up with one hand, using the other to hang onto my neck.
“That’s it, pretty boy. Show me what’s mine. You’re all mine, aren’t you, baby?”
“Yeah. I’m so fucking yours, Trav. Can I come? Please, can I come?”
He’s so turned on. Guess pretty boy likes being made to show himself off. I smack his ass for asking so early, but truth is, I don’t plan to make him wait long. I want to see him come, need to see more of that aching vulnerability that’s mine and no one else’s.
Dirk’s head falls back, and he lets go. All the guarded restraint falls away, and he’s just him—raw, unshielded, unafraid. The way he never is with anyone else. Not with friends, not with family.
That gorgeous bit of bashfulness blends with his masculine features, making him prettier. Making me want to ruin him more. His pouty lips fall open as he gives himself over, letting me do what I will with him, trying to catch his breath.
But I don’t let him.
Sure, he gets enough to sustain him, but never more than that. I work him over, slapping his ass some more, clawing into his lush booty cheeks with my nails, pounding him with my cock, hard, forcing him to wail until he’s breathless.
And he begs. Oh, the way he begs.
“Trav,” he pants. “P-Please, for the love of … please.” He slaps my shoulder. “I’m gonna … gonna die.”
“Nope. Not on my watch, baby.” I’m just being selfish at this point, but he’s so damn beautiful when he’s needy. Sex is the only time he’s this free. I want to see him free all the time. “But you can come. Go ahead. Don’t hold back.”
He doesn’t. He unravels. Breaks wide open, just for me.
I don’t know why that knocks me in the chest harder than his climax does, but it does. And I fill him until cum’s leaking onto my thighs. He catches my lips in a desperate kiss.
“My legs are going numb, otherwise I’d sit on your cock all day,” he says before climbing off.
“And I guess we should get out there. Think Maverick’s gonna be a problem?” I mutter, eyeing the mess on my shirt. Might have to run upstairs for a new one.
“Not so long as no one touches Bryce or looks at him in any way he deems unacceptable.” Dirk shrugs.
“Fuck, that could mean anything. We shouldn’t have left him to his own devices.” I stand up, peel my shirt off, and wipe down with some Kleenex.
“You are not going out there like that, Trav. No way, uh-uh. And while we’re on the topic, no more shirtless lawn mowing unless I’m there to watch and fend off admirers.”
“Jealous?” He’s still half naked, so I grab him by the collar and pull him in.
“Damn right. Till I can publicly claim you, I’m guarding what’s mine.”
His smirk curves against my mouth, and it just about undoes me. I want to do the same to him, mark him for all to see, want it so bad that day can’t come soon enough.