Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
The late afternoon sun reflected off storefronts as Ethan wandered down the sidewalk, juggling a grocery bag under one arm. Apples jostled against a cereal box while he balanced a latte in his other hand.
His truck was parked across the lot, its dusty blue frame glinting under the haze. He placed the cup on the roof and fished his keys from his pocket. The metal jangled as he unlocked the door.
Sliding the bag onto the passenger seat, he took a last swig of coffee, then tossed the empty cup beside the groceries.
His phone buzzed against his thigh, and he thumbed open Brick’s text.
Hey Cinderella. You good? Op went sideways, but everyone’s five by.
Looking forward to beers, and ladies tonight. Pick you up laters.
Ethan sighed, tension settling in his stomach. Op went to shit. His mind spun, conjuring flashes of gunfire, Logan barking orders, and the chaos he’d missed.
Relief hit next—they were safe—but still something gnawed at him, like a splinter under his skin.
It was two days since Logan had sent him packing, and every minute had dragged. His nights were a sleepless churn of tossing in tangled sheets, replaying the fallout. One moment, he’d berate himself: How could I be so stupid? The next, resentment would flare: How dare Logan treat me like that?
Brick’s text lingered. Beers and ladies. Maybe that was the cure. Perhaps he could drown this fixation for Logan with cold brews and a woman’s curves. All this downtime, cooped up in his dim apartment with its peeling paint and buzzing fridge, wasn’t helping. His brain had become a hamster wheel of regret, spinning nowhere.
He slammed the truck door shut and circled to the driver’s side. His attention suddenly caught on a storefront across the street, its blacked-out windows staring back like a challenge.
Secrets. The name swirled in bold purple cursive that seemed to glow against the dark tinted windows.
He froze, keys dangling, heart kicking up a notch. A sex shop. The realization made his pulse quicken.
He locked the truck with a chirp, shoved the keys in his pocket, and after dodging a slow-rolling sedan, crossed the street.
His reflection loomed in the window: tall, broad, a grocery-toting SEAL teetering on the edge of something reckless.
The sidewalk was quiet, just a couple ambling past and a guy in a hoodie hunched over his phone. Ethan checked both ways, paranoia prickling his neck.
Hand on the door, he pushed. An off-key bell jangled overhead as he stepped inside.
The air shifted from sunbaked heat to air-conditioned cool and a thick swirl of unfamiliar scents. The store was bathed in a soft neon haze of pink and blue lights pulsing faintly from the ceiling.
Tall shelves filled with vibrators in garish pinks and purples lined every wall. Leather cuffs and restraints dangled from hooks, while plugs and beads stood in rows of escalating size.
Ethan’s heart pounded, steady and insistent. What the hell am I doing? Panic clawed at his throat. This isn’t you. Get out of here. You’re a Navy SEAL, not a fucking creep.
He spun, hand gripping the door, ready to bolt.
“Hey, honey, may I help you?” The bright, lilting voice with a playful drawl stopped him cold.
Ethan turned and faced a striking man with the posture of someone completely comfortable in his own skin. He was as tall as Ethan but leaner, all sinew and swagger, with artificially bronzed skin that gleamed under the lights. He wore a faded pink cropped T-shirt that hugged his chest and showed off his tattooed arms—swirling vines and a snarling tiger that curled from his wrists up to his collarbone. Piercings glinted everywhere: a silver stud in his nose, another through his lip, and massive gold hoop earrings that danced with his every move.
Ethan was caught off-guard by the sheer presence of the man, and reluctantly acknowledged how attractive he was with those sharp cheekbones and mischievous dark eyes.
“Uh...” he stammered, mind blank. “No... sorry, I think I’m in the wrong place.” He forced a smile, swallowing hard. “I’m just leaving.”
“You sure there’s nothing I can interest you in?” The man’s smile shifted to a gentle, knowing expression as he dramatically tilted his head, making his gold hoops swing. “If you’re looking for something in particular, maybe I can help. I’m fabulous at helping lost men find things.”
Ethan hesitated, pinned by that grin. It was warm and disarming, like a lifeline in this alien environment. “Uh... no, I’m not into this kinda stuff. Sorry.” He managed a shaky smile, nerves buzzing under his skin.
The guy’s expression remained patient but skeptical, his perfectly shaped eyebrows arching as Ethan cracked the door. “Honey, wait… if you’re after something specific,” his tone softened with surprising gentleness, eyes flicking over Ethan’s fidgeting frame, “maybe for your girlfriend … I can help?”
Ethan froze, the door ajar, cool air brushing his neck. He turned back, heart pounding, and sucked in a deep breath. “Uh… I’m not sure,” he admitted, a frown creasing his brow.
“Not sure?” The man’s laugh was warm and genuine as he sashayed closer, hand outstretched with a theatrical flourish. “Let’s start simple, gorgeous. I’m Marcus.” He grinned and struck a pose that made his gold hoops jangle. “And what do I call you, or are you just the strong, silent type? I do love a man of mystery.”
Ethan felt his lips tug up slightly. “I’m just leaving.”
Marcus chuckled. “Well, pleased to meet you, Mr. I’m-Just-Leaving. Though that’s quite the mouthful for such a handsome face.”
Ethan laughed too, a nervous huff. “Sorry—Ethan. It’s Ethan.”
“Well, pleased to meet you, Ethan.” Marcus gave a little twirl, his earrings dancing. “Now, what can I do for you? And trust me, sweetie, the options are endless.”
A loud crash from the back of the store interrupted them. Shelves rattled and boxes thudded to the floor, followed by a muffled curse.
Marcus groaned, throwing his hands up with dramatic flair. “Oh, for the love of the goddess… Jake! What’d I tell you? Hands off the damn stock! This isn’t a playground for your curious fingers.” He raked a hand over his buzz cut, sighing. “Give me a sec, handsome. I gotta stop him trashing the place. Browse, take your time.”
He squeezed Ethan’s arm with a firm, reassuring pat that sent a jolt through him. Marcus’s long fingers, perfectly manicured with black nail polish, lingered before he darted off with a dramatic swish of his hips.
Ethan exhaled, his initial panic dulling as he drifted into the store. Shelves stocked with pink vibrators that actually glowed while leather cuffs hung like promises over rows of lace and satin outfits.
He picked up a rubbery toy—some kind of ringed thing he wasn’t sure what—then set it back as his fingers brushed a sleek black box.
Logan’s name surfaced instantly. Sauna steam, that plug sinking in, his voice promising so much.
Ethan’s gut twisted with want as he scanned the shelves, half-searching for something to prove he could handle it—handle him .
“Sorry about that,” Marcus reappeared, his smile firmly in place. “Jake’s an absolute menace. Can’t stop touching stuff. Same song every damn day, darling. I swear that boy would play with fire if I let him.” He studied Ethan’s flushed cheeks and the nervous hunch in his shoulders. “First time?”
Ethan tensed, immediately defensive. “Oh, no—” He frowned, scrambling. “I told you, I don’t... I’m not. I like girls.” The lie burst out, loud and clumsy, and he winced, eyes slamming shut, cheeks on fire.
“Oh, honey,” Marcus’s laugh was kind rather than mocking. “As much as that is a tragedy for the gay community, I meant your first time here. In my little shop of wonders.” He grinned, clearly charmed by Ethan’s flustered state. “Let’s keep it simple, sugar. What does your... girlfriend like? Vanilla? Experimental? Something new… anal, maybe?”
He watched Ethan’s blank, deer-in-headlights stare and cocked his head with theatrical slowness.
“Uh…” Ethan nodded, slow and jittery. “Yeah... maybe that. I don’t know.”
“Okay!” Marcus clapped enthusiastically. “Now we’re cooking with gas! Follow me, gorgeous. I have just the thing.”
He sashayed to a shelf lined with anal toys, his hips swaying with each step. His confident swagger was a stark contrast to Ethan’s stiff shuffle, but somehow it eased him. Marcus was a balm to his buzzing nerves.
“First... experience?” he asked gently, his dramatic persona softening as he gauged Ethan’s wince.
“Mm-hm,” Ethan nodded, cheeks flaming.
“Oh, honey, don’t be shy,” Marcus’s voice softened with genuine warmth as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Everyone has to start somewhere. Even fabulous me! We’ll find what you need, I promise.”
He rummaged through boxes until he pulled out a small black one—a plug, sleek and simple. “Here… perfect for beginners. Trust Marcus, I know what I’m talking about.”
Ethan took it, fingers brushing the packaging. It was like the one Logan got, only smaller. He coughed awkwardly, throat tight. “Uh... do you have something bigger?”
“Oh!” Marcus’s expression brightened with delight as he placed one hand dramatically on his chest. “Bigger? So maybe not quite your first rodeo after all?”
Ethan shook his head, looking down at his sneakers, scuffing the wooden floor.
Marcus leaned in close. “Look, sweetie, nothing you say can shock me. I’ve seen it all in this glitter-dusted den of sin. Butt play for a nice guy like you? Barely a blip on my radar.” He rested a bejeweled hand on Ethan’s shoulder, nails glinting. “Straight, gay, questioning, whatever—doesn’t matter one bit. Focus on how they make you feel, that’s all that counts.”
Ethan exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thanks.”
“So, whose idea… yours or his?” Marcus asked, his expression turning thoughtful as he studied Ethan’s face. “I mean, you’re good with it all? Because consent is everything in my book.”
“His,” Ethan said after a long, shuddering breath. “He said it would… that it would make it easier, the first time. He said we shouldn’t rush things.”
“Wow, thoughtful guy—definitely sounds a keeper.” Marcus gave a theatrical wink. “My first? We were too horny to wait. Big mistake. My ass was like a war zone after. Not a pretty picture.” He fluttered his fingers dramatically. “Taking it slow is smart, especially if you’re wobbling on the whole idea.”
Ethan’s phone buzzed—Brick again.
Didn’t hear back. You okay, buddy?
Beers tonight. Don’t say no.
Marcus’s smile turned knowing as he guided Ethan to a corner display that featured plugs, beads, and toys in muted blues and blacks. “This is more your thing, handsome.”
Ethan’s eyes darted to three other customers—a giggling couple and a lone guy in a ball cap—who milled nearby. He coughed, clutching a box. “Yeah... that’s perfect.”
“Good. Oh, and you’ll need this too.” Marcus added a large blue bottle of lubricant, before heading back to the counter and tossing everything in a plain paper bag.
“George, darling… Meet Ethan. Ethan, this gorgeous creature is George—my significant other.”
A lanky guy in skinny jeans and a gray t-shirt grinned, his mop of dark curls bouncing as he handed Ethan a flyer. “Lucy’s—it’s a fabulous new club. Free passes for you and a friend. You simply must come.”
Ethan frowned at the neon-pink details. “Is this a gay club? Only I’m not?—”
“Straight folks welcome too. We don’t discriminate against heteros.” George smiled, his voice a smooth tenor. “Free shots, killer DJ—best in town. You don’t want to miss out.” He wrapped an arm around Marcus, pulling him into a slow, tender kiss.
Ethan watched their easy affection with unexpected fascination. They seemed so open and natural together, a stark contrast to his complicated situation with Logan. It sparked something—hope, maybe?—easing the tension of the last two days.
Ethan stood at the door with the bag crinkling in his grip as Marcus called out with a dramatic wave, “Honey, you ever need to talk, you come back and see Auntie Marcus and Uncle George. The door is always open for gorgeous men with questions.”
Ethan nodded, then smiled as he stepped out into the dusk with renewed determination.
Logan might be angry… but I’m not giving up.