18. Wilder
Wilder
The next morning, Wilder would have rather flayed off his own skin than untangle himself from Merrick’s arms, but he had to get up and get to work.
Merrick still got up and made him coffee, sinking to his knees in the kitchen and rubbing his face against the front of Wilder’s slacks while Wilder drank his coffee.
“If you have any bad feelings today, call me, alright?” He held Merrick’s chin in his fingers after their goodbye kiss, keeping the other man’s attention locked on him.
“I’m fine.”
“I hear you and I believe you, but if that changes…”
“Why would it change?” Merrick asked.
“Last night was a lot. For both of us. And it was a first for you—”
“Not for you?”
Wilder’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He’d punished people before, more times than he could probably count, but he’d never felt as raw as he did standing there in Merrick’s kitchen.
“Yes and no,” he admitted. “It’s not been like that for me before.”
Merrick nodded. “I’m okay.”
“I believe you.”
“I’ll let you know if I’m not,” Merrick said, swallowing hard. “I do love you. I didn’t just...that wasn’t just a thing I said in the heat of the moment.”
“And I love you,” Wilder promised, sealing the truth with a kiss.
He’d thought he loved people before, but there was no comparison. He was either going to spend the rest of his life with this man, or he was going to be alone. He hoped for the former, but either way, Merrick Shannon was it for him.
They finished their goodbyes with Merrick swearing he would start looking into the art show idea before he went into the shop and that he would text Wilder about whatever he discovered. That was the most he could ask for, and he carried that promise with him on the way into the office.
Wilder tried to work, but he couldn’t focus, his brain too distracted.
By eleven, he’d called Justin, who told him Micah was making lunch if he wanted to come over.
He arrived on his friends’ porch just before twelve, relief washing over him when he stepped through the door.
Keith let him in with a quick hug and hello before leading him into the dining room where Justin sat at the table with his laptop open in front of him.
“Busy day?” Wilder asked, sitting down at the table.
“Very.” Justin frowned.
“I can come back another time,” he offered, gesturing backward toward the front door.
“No, no.” Justin waved him off. “You just got here faster than I expected, and Keith was in the middle of…”
Wilder laughed when Justin motioned the universal symbol for a blow job.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Would your…I don’t know what he is—”
“Boyfriend,” Wilder supplied, using the word for the first time and not hating it.
Excitement flashed across Justin’s face. “Boyfriend. Would he be okay with that?”
“That’s a fair point,” he said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had to worry about that kind of thing. Either way, don’t let me keep you. I’ll go check on Micah.”
Wilder stood and pushed back from the table, heading into the kitchen to leave Keith and Justin to whatever they needed to do.
It wasn’t often he found himself in a situation where he was privy to the sex other people were having, though he supposed it was a possibility at Rapture.
He and Merrick had only talked about not being physically intimate with other people.
Neither of them had brought up a situation like this.
He made a mental note to talk to Merrick about it later.
Wilder found Micah in the kitchen, four plates laid out neatly in a row, matching sandwiches on each one. He was in the middle of scooping chips out of the bag when Wilder found him, and Micah met him with an easy smile.
“I thought I heard your voice.”
He hugged Micah and kissed him on the forehead. “Thank you for letting me crash your lunch.”
“Crashing their lunch,” Micah teased, thumbing over his shoulder toward the dining room.
Wilder leaned against the counter and shoved his hands into his pockets. “How have you been?”
“Good. Justin said you’re seeing someone.”
“Merrick,” Wilder said, loving the way Merrick’s name felt in his mouth.
“Is it serious?”
“Very.”
“Good.” Micah nodded, rolling the chip bag closed and shoving it back into the pantry. “You deserve that.”
“Oh, do I?”
“Of course.” Micah almost rolled his eyes but stopped, an aborted expression cut short from a lifetime of submission.
Wilder chuckled, bobbling his head to the side. “I think he deserves it too.”
“That’s how it works, right? That’s what happened to us.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Merrick was new to it too. Like Justin.”
Micah and Justin had been together for years before they met Keith, and Micah had been submissive for even longer than that.
Justin had stumbled into a world he didn’t even know existed, but there wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for Micah and he was so naturally dominant, he’d taken to power exchange like there was no other relationship for him to have.
“Does it come easy?”
Wilder fought back a laugh, which did earn him a proper eye roll.
“Yes,” he answered. “Merrick is…there’s no other way he could be, I don’t think.”
“When do we get to meet him?” Micah asked.
“That’s the same thing Justin said.”
Keith cleared his throat from the hallway and both of them turned. Wilder took in Keith’s flushed cheeks and swollen mouth, the dark clumps of his eyelashes and his bedraggled hair.
“Is lunch ready?” he asked.
“It is.”
“I’ll help,” Keith said. “Wilder, go sit. Please.”
Wilder would never not be in awe of the dynamic between his three friends, with Micah submissive to Justin and Keith, and Keith submissive to Justin but dominant to Micah.
“As you command,” he said with a smile, offering Keith a mock bow which only caused the red on his cheeks to darken.
“Please,” Keith murmured.
Wilder kissed him on the forehead on his way out, the same greeting he’d given Micah. In the dining room again, he found Justin still in his seat, the only difference was his laptop was now closed and pushed toward the center of the table.
“Everything okay?” he asked, taking the same seat he’d occupied earlier.
“Perfect. Were they both polite?”
“Always.”
Micah and Keith were not far behind, bringing the plates Micah had prepared and following up with drinks, and then the four of them were seated at the table and three sets of eyes were on him.
“What?”
“They just want to know about Merrick,” Justin said. “We’ve known you for years, and I don’t think you’ve ever dated anyone.”
“That can’t be right.”
“It is,” Keith said, smiling before sinking his teeth into a potato chip.
“He’s a tattooer,” Wilder said. “An amazing artist. He paints, has a younger brother. He’s from back east.”
“How old is he?”
“Mid-twenties.”
Micah huffed out a breath.
“I’m not that old,” Wilder countered without preface. “Just because all of you are dinosaurs.”
“Oh, please.”
“I met him at Rapture,” he went on. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Keith parroted.
“Do you need to go back under the table?” Justin asked, one brow raised toward his hairline.
Keith worked his jaw before swallowing hard and shaking his head.
“You two would get along,” Wilder said, knocking his elbow into the outside of Keith’s arm. “You’re very similar.”
“When do we meet him, then?” Keith asked.
“I don’t know. We have opposite schedules, and I’m enjoying having him to myself.”
“What shop does he work at?”
“Ink and Ember.”
Justin’s eyes went wide. “He works for Riggs Ember?”
“I honestly have no idea,” he admitted.
“That’s Riggs’s shop.”
Wilder shrugged.
“He’s a good guy,” Justin said. “Lost his husband a few years ago but just started seeing someone new recently. It’s been good for him. I’m sure your guy is a good one too or Riggs wouldn’t have hired him.”
“He is,” Wilder said, even though it didn’t need saying.
“Oh,” Micah said quietly around a mouthful of food. “You love him.”
Wilder leveled a look across the table that did nothing to wipe the knowing grin off Micah’s face.
“That’s cute,” Justin teased.
“I didn’t come over to be picked on.”
“Why did you come over?”
“I don’t even know anymore.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin and flipped Justin the bird. “But I just…”
“You do love him,” Keith said, repeating Micah’s earlier assumption.
“Why does everyone think I love him?”
“You look lovesick,” Justin answered. “If you must know. But you looked the same when you told me about him the first time too.”
Wilder shoved his plate away and put his head in his hands, groaning. “Is it too soon?”
Three voices all told him no.
“I’ve known you a very long time and you’ve never second-guessed yourself like this,” Justin said.
“I don’t want to mess it up,” he confessed reluctantly.
“Impossible,” Keith said, patting his thigh.
“I would like you guys to meet him soon.”
“We can’t wait,” Justin said, speaking for himself and the two men he loved most in the world.
The four of them finished lunch, and Wilder gave Micah all the thanks he deserved for letting him tag along and making extra.
He didn’t have it in himself to go back to work, though.
His mind raced with thoughts of Merrick and before he knew it, he found himself parked around the corner from Ink and Ember, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.
Getting a tattoo was a crazy idea, but nothing had ever made more sense to him.
He was in love and Merrick was end game for him.
He wanted everyone around him to know it.
He didn’t know if Merrick had appointments or if he was busy or if he was even allowed visitors at work, but he knew Justin said Merrick’s boss was a good guy so he hedged his bets and climbed out of the car.
He counted his steps to the door, two large jingle bells announcing his arrival when he stepped into the shop.
The place was small but it didn’t feel cramped.
With dark walls all around and a half counter separating the waiting area from the artists’ stations, it took him no time at all to find Merrick.
Merrick saw him at the same time, their eyes locking and a small smile creeping slowly across his face. Wilder tapped his palms against the counter and waited for Merrick to set down his sketchbook and meet him there.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, still grinning.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Merrick leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss against the corner of Wilder’s mouth. “I always think about you.”
“Do you have an appointment coming up?”
Merrick glanced at a clock over the door; it was a thick black-framed thing with bold black numbers, the kind Wilder remembered from elementary school. “Not until three.”
“Is that enough time to tattoo me?”
Merrick scoffed, reeling back. “You want a tattoo?”
“I want you to tattoo me,” he corrected.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Your choice,” Wilder said.
“That’s too broad.” Merrick scratched his cheek. “Where do you want it?”
“Somewhere I can see it.” He unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and pulled up his sleeve, giving Merrick the underside of his wrist. “Here?”
Merrick drew featherlight lines over Wilder’s veins with the edge of his fingernail, eyes fixed on Wilder’s untouched skin. “Anything I want?”
“Anything you want me to have,” Wilder clarified.
Merrick pulled his lips between his teeth and bit them together, nodding slowly until his mouth broke free and he smiled at Wilder like he was sunshine. “I think I know just the thing.”
“Okay,” he said. “Lead the way.”