Chapter Nineteen
Last night had healed part of James’s soul.
Connecting with a sub on that level, being able to play with Nolan and then fuck him to completion afterward—James hadn’t thought he would experience that again in this lifetime.
Given it was Saturday, James didn’t have to be anywhere fast, and Nolan was asleep.
If Nolan wasn’t working, James wanted to spend the day with him.
He formulated a plan in his mind. James ran his fingertips across Nolan’s forehead, brushing some of the hair off it.
Nolan didn’t budge in the slightest—his eyes firmly shut, his breaths even.
James’s heart clenched. The man was gorgeous, and he had completely trusted him last night.
James pushed up from his seat and tossed on a pair of boxer briefs, not bothering with anything else.
He headed downstairs, tempted to set the coffee brewing, but that was a task Nolan needed to do in a specific way, so he’d just wait.
He snagged two bananas from the countertop, one for himself and one for Nolan, and then he polished off his.
James went to his bag, still in the living room, and pulled out his laptop. As a morning person, this was when he had the most energy, so he’d operate better putting it to use. At home, he didn’t worry about Ken walking in. All the problems he’d left behind yesterday returned, and he groaned.
The crossover of Ken and the current problem with Carter made his gut churn, but there was a way he could get to the bottom of it.
James clicked away at his laptop, tucked into the corner of the couch.
He managed to find a picture of Carter, one of the few available online, and ran it through a facial scanner.
A few results came up, and he poked around.
Two different names appeared tagged to what appeared to be the same guy.
Gerald Frederick and Darren Kendall.
James began researching into both names.
Guys who started clubs in their areas, ran events, then fled the scenes.
The pattern seemed familiar, a little glimmer of comprehension just within grasp.
Gerald was located in the Portland area, while Darren had set his up in Nevada.
Both were driving distance from here, though far enough that the kink scenes were different.
His brow furrowed as he looked through the pictures.
The guy seemed to be the same person, meaning they couldn’t find information on Carter because he hadn’t existed until arriving in San Francisco.
His stomach churned. This wasn’t some two-bit player, no. This was a guy experienced in wrecking scenes, it appeared, who’d left a trail of trouble in multiple cities. He pulled up a few online articles, and the sight of the contents unsettled him even more.
Rape allegations. Embezzlement. Assault charges.
This guy was a monster who used his money to escape repercussions for his actions time and time again. Fuck. And he targeted Whipped now.
A rustling noise alerted his attention, so he set his laptop on the coffee table and rose.
James snagged the banana and walked into the kitchen, happy to escape the articles he had uncovered about their current problem.
Nolan was up, wearing a skimpy purple jock, and stood in front of the coffee maker, preparing everything in the measured way he needed to.
James leaned against the doorframe and watched for a moment.
Nolan’s back was to him, his bruised ass on clear display as he shifted around. Damn. Lust pulsed through him at the sight of the marks he’d left from last night. The idea of displaying those marks around, so everyone knew what a good boy he was…fuck.
“Want to go to a beach?” James blurted.
Nolan whirled around, surprise written all over his features. Right, James hadn’t exactly announced his presence.
“Sorry,” James said, squeezing his neck. “Just figured since we both had the day ahead of us, we could go out.”
Nolan grinned and sauntered toward him. He draped his arms around James’s shoulders. “That you asking me out?”
“Absolutely,” James said, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss.
Nolan melted into the embrace, and he returned the kiss with fervor.
James savored the heat between their bodies, the way Nolan’s kiss, the electricity between them, woke him up better than coffee.
Last night, he’d gotten that lob to the chest after they’d fucked, but even in Nolan’s haze, he’d sensed the upset.
Going through it with him was far better than bolting.
Nolan pulled back. “Coffee first.”
“And this,” James said, handing him the banana. Nolan’s eyes crinkled, and he heaved out a sigh. “Yes, that’s a banana in my pocket, and I’m happy to see you.”
He let out a laugh and then ran his fingers through his hair. “A forewarning, if I’m in a flare, the sand can sometimes be a problem, but I’m feeling okay right now.”
“When it stops working, we’ll go elsewhere,” James said with a shrug. “I’ll make a few backup plans.”
“What beach were you thinking?” Nolan asked. He ate the banana in a few quick bites, grabbed mugs, and poured the coffee.
“Marshall’s,” James said, amusement tugging at his lips.
Nolan fixed him with an arched brow. “With this ass?”
James’s grin stretched wider, and he squeezed Nolan’s bruised ass. “Definitely with this ass.”
Nolan moaned and shifted. His cock had plumped out, evidenced by the flimsy scrap of fabric covering it.
Though tempted to find a flat surface and get him on his back again, James wanted to take him out.
The house felt like a safe space for whatever this was between them to bloom, but he wanted to test the waters—literally.
“Drink your coffee,” James said, pressing a kiss to Nolan’s temple before he grabbed his mug. “We’ve got a beach to get to.”
***
“I should’ve known the sadist would pick somewhere that required a hike,” Nolan grumbled as they trekked along the trail leading to Marshall’s Beach.
Since this was a nude beach, it was secluded, away from the general public.
James had always liked the privacy, but he also enjoyed a chance to strip down and let the sun soak into his skin.
There was something freeing about being there, and he hadn’t been back since returning to San Francisco.
He’d also never gone with Andrew, so this was a new experience for just him and Nolan.
His chest squeezed as he followed Nolan, eager to watch those long legs flex and his peach of an ass in action.
After recent breakthroughs, where he’d felt his soul pour out of him, the memories weren’t sending him into the same panic spirals.
The sadness still bubbled up, but he could carry it along with the joy of what he now discovered with Nolan.
“It’ll be good to get the blood pumping,” James said, unable to help himself from teasing.
Nolan shot him a glare. “My ball sac feels like it got run over multiple times.”
“You looked so damn pretty in that humbler though,” James said.
Nolan sighed. “Yeah, it was worth the after-effects. That orgasm, or I guess orgasms were…wow.”
Warmth flooded James. Nolan fit him perfectly in so many ways. The more he got to know Nolan, the stronger their connection grew. James knew what the fluttering in his chest was, the warm, incandescent glow, even if he wasn’t ready to acknowledge it quite yet.
They reached the end of the trail, where it led to Marshall Beach, and the salt air greeted him. He drank it in, the crash of the waves, the glitter of the crests under the bright sunlight, and the heat that radiated from it. The calm hummed through his body, gentle and steady.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go set up a spot.”
He walked up to Nolan, grabbed his hand, and together they walked down the sloping sand pathway to the beach stretching before them.
A few older guys were sunbathing on the beach at this point.
James loved the feel of Nolan’s hand in his, the casual way their fingers twined together as they strolled down closer to the shoreline.
The tide was calm right now, and the waves crashed in lazily, leaving those whorls of foam in their wake.
“I haven’t come here in years,” Nolan said. “This one of your old haunts?”
“Yeah,” James said. “It’s quieter at this one.”
The water was the sort of lush blue that rivaled the sky, and the breezes grew stronger, tossing strands of Nolan’s vibrant green hair around.
James found an isolated spot on the sand and dropped the bag from his shoulder.
He unrolled their beach blankets, then he shucked off his shorts, his boxer briefs, and his tank top.
He kicked off his slides, then sprawled out on the blanket.
Nolan flat-out stared at him, his jaw working open and shut a few times. “Well, I think I’ve got a new appreciation for this beach.”
A rumble of a laugh escaped James. “Gonna join me or just watch?”
“Yeah, fuck it,” Nolan said, tugging off his black tank.
He rolled down his black jeans and jock next, then kicked off his sneakers.
James didn’t hide the way he scanned him from head to toe.
The sun highlighted the dips and curves of his body, as well as the marks James had left on him last night, bruises on his hips, bruises all over his ass and the back of his thighs.
Even his sack was bruised, and his nipples were a little redder around the areolas.
He looked mouthwatering, and James wanted to lick and taste every inch of him at the sight.
Nolan settled down next to him, and the wince set James’s bloodstream aflame. Something about having his marks all over Nolan’s body was so hot—an imprint showing the visual tapestry of what they’d done.
James leaned back, resting on his interlocked hands with elbows out. His cock lay plumped at his side, legs sprawled, the sun radiating down. With the heat and the breeze and this man by his side, he felt like he’d stepped into a dream.
Nolan remained upright, though he rested on his elbows. “Hey, you okay?”