Bad Behavior Read online

  After a second of it, David opened to it, absorbed the kiss with a groan that vibrated between them. His tongue stroked alongside Tai’s, and damn if Tai wasn’t going to be the one left with a craving instead.

  He released David’s mouth, eased the hold on his face, thumbs stroking his lips, his chin—which had started the whole damned thing. Even that night in the bar, the way that chin jerked out when Tai turned down the first offer had caught his interest.

  David was breathing fast, eyes closed. When they opened, the look was soft, full of a need that moved them both close to that dizzy space of power offered and accepted. Tai wanted to hold him there. Cradle him in it.

  David’s tongue swept across his lips.

  Before he could disappear again, Tai kissed him gently. “Sorry. You have this sexy hint of a dimple in your chin.”

  The freeze was so instant they might have been back under the shower. Tai released him.

  David put his fingers to his chin. “You should have seen it in my pudgy youth. Disgusting thing. Thank God it’s less noticeable now.” He dropped his head, hiding his face completely. “Guess it’s like a Band-Aid, right?” He ripped himself free, making them both wince as skin separated. He was hunched on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, before Tai could recover.

  “Right. So.” David straightened his shoulders with an effort Tai could see in the muscles of his back. “I’m certain you have other things planned for your Saturday. Do you mind if I clean up a bit?”

  Tai sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want to presume on your time. My clothes are in the bathroom, I think.”

  “No.”

  David flinched, and Tai softened his tone.

  “Your clothes are in here. On this side of the bed. I brought them in before I walked Jez.”

  “Right.” David’s hand came up to his head, hesitated, then rubbed across the scar Tai had felt under thick, short hair.

  “David—”

  That sent him rocketing off the bed.

  “I—Excuse me. I feel—” David’s steps were uneven, but he still beat Tai to the bathroom and shut the door firmly.

  The shower went on and the toilet flushed, a waterfall of sound, enough to mask Tai knocking.

  Humidity, cheap lumber, and a settling foundation ensured the door didn’t close all the way, not enough to lock, though it could be wedged tight enough to discourage Jez’s curiosity.

  She trotted over now and sat at his feet as he stared at the door, looking at him out of the top of her eyes again as if saying Smooth one.

  He knew what was going on now. But David didn’t. When the sound of the toilet had faded, Tai put his mouth close to the door so he didn’t have to yell.

  “David, listen.”

  “I’m fine.” The quaver in David’s voice made him a huge liar, but it wasn’t a good time to call him on that.

  “This happens sometimes. You feel shaky and sick and miserable? It’s called sub drop. It’s like coming off a high. A hangover.” Tai listened. There was no change in the sound of the water, but at least he hadn’t heard anything like a body hitting the floor.

  After another minute he said, “Hey. I don’t know you well enough to know what you need. So you need to convince me you’re okay, or use your safeword and I’ll leave you alone.” The rush of blood in Tai’s ears was almost enough to drown out the water or anything David might say.

  “Silence isn’t very convincing.” Tai took a few steps back into the bedroom to grab David’s cane and his shorts. “Dav—” Hand on the doorknob, he paused. “Hey, Beach. At least take your cane.”

  With a squeaking jerk, the door flew open, then closed to a narrow gap with David’s arm sticking through. Tai shoved the clothes and the cane at him.

  “Thank you. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” David’s voice was controlled, but the lack of emotion worried Tai more than the shakiness had. He replayed the fraction of a second when the door had come unstuck, David’s hair and face dripping onto a towel around his shoulders.

  Everything inside Tai demanded he force open that door and make David okay. Shield him with strength and force the understanding that it was okay. That the feeling was normal and would fade if David would relax and let Tai help. Three years ago, before he met Nic, Tai would have done exactly that. Letting David push him away was a lot easier in theory than in practice, though.

  Hands in tight fists, he pressed them against his diaphragm, dragging calm to him and squeezing it in that grip. It might not be very Zen, but that was what worked for Tai.

  When the door opened with a soft pop, he relaxed his fists.

  David’s hair was wet-dark, standing up unevenly from a toweling, drops still trickling down his chest and belly to the waistband of his shorts. The expression on his face was bland, a faint amusement Tai could picture David practicing in the mirror. It might have been convincing, if Tai hadn’t just spent an hour watching real emotions on that face. That and the way his fingers clenched the top of his cane.

  “I apologize for alarming you, but I’m fine.” David started forward, and Tai moved out of the way.

  David headed straight for the apartment door. Not unexpected, but it still stung, made Tai fight another urge to wrap the man up in his arms and demand they talk about what had happened.

  “You might want your shirt. And your shoes. The pavement can be damned hot.”

  David came to an abrupt halt. “Right. Thanks.” He started to turn back and caught his balance with a hand on the wall. “In the bedroom?”

  “Do you want me to get them?” Tai kept his position, leaning on the wall between the bedroom and living room.

  “No, thank you. I’ll get them.”

  Tai had planned to stay right where he was until David left but went to the bedroom door. If it was the last chance, he was taking a final look at that sweet ass and sculpted back. Sue him.

  David slid his shoes on and then bent down to grab his shirt. Straightening with a jerk, he swayed, overcorrected. Lips gray, features slack, eyes unfocused. Even with only the profile of his face, Tai knew what was about to happen.

  Reflexes had Tai springing forward. He’d become a master at reading the signs when Gina was pregnant. In addition to the puking—or maybe because of it—she’d fainted a lot.

  David sank like a rock, but Tai was already there, cushioning the drop so David landed in Tai’s lap, both of them sitting.

  David blinked. He wasn’t out completely.

  Tai waited for the blue eyes to focus. “Just so we’re clear. You’re not fine.”

  BEACH WANTED to argue, but he still felt like shit. Who knew sex that good had this at the tail end?

  And he could admit to himself that Tai holding him like this made him feel better than he had since he’d woken up.

  “Some of this might be your blood sugar. What did you have for breakfast?”

  “Breakfast?” Beach stalled while he thought back. There’d been that text, and he hadn’t stopped for food. “Toothpaste.”

  Tai’s brows went up in thick slashes. “As in—”

  “I brushed my teeth. That was all.”

  “How did you make it to, what are you—almost forty—?”

  “I’m thirty-four.” Beach’s wounded pride snapped out the correction.

  “Thirty-four,” Tai agreed with amusement that made Beach want to turn around and level a glare, except he was really comfortable and not quite sure he wouldn’t pass out. “So how did you make it this far without learning how to stay out of trouble?”

  Beach leaned into the hard heat. It was different, being held like this. His experience with embraces was that they were mutual. This one wasn’t. It was all Tai. This kind of difference was the good kind.

  “Trouble is where all the fun is.”

  “Yeah?” Tai’s voice rumbled against Beach’s back, vibrated down his ear into his throat like a taste of something bittersweet. “I’d like to teach you different.”


  “So far it’s been fun watching you try.”

  “Want another cold shower?”

  Dread and desire chased themselves around deep and low in Beach’s belly. “Uh, no.” He didn’t. That hadn’t been fun at all. So why did the idea of it—of Tai making Beach do something he didn’t like—why did that make his skin flush, his cock ache like it wanted to go for thirds this morning? Sucking in a breath, he added, “Sir.”

  Tai rasped his goatee against Beach’s neck. “Food. Then we talk.”

  “Okay.” Beach swallowed back disappointment. Over what he wasn’t sure. That Tai wasn’t going to punish—even that word in Beach’s head made things inside go hot and tight—him, or that they couldn’t stay right here a while.

  Maybe it was the idea of talking. Beach liked to talk—as long as no one expected him to say anything. He was afraid this talk was going to mean making some choices, and that was something he particularly liked avoiding. Options he loved. Choices meant an option was closed.

  Tai’s grip shifted around as he helped Beach to his feet, never leaving his balance to chance. Which was good, because his legs felt like they were on a deck going through ten-foot swells.

  “So, where’s a good place for food around here?” Beach realized he was still clutching his polo shirt. He tugged it over his head, glad he’d grabbed the Loro Piana with forty-percent silk. It soothed the hot prickles on his skin.

  “My kitchen.”

  Beach had his cane, but Tai still used a hand under Beach’s arm to steer him to the couch. “Sit.”

  Jez had been stretching in a perfect imitation of downward dog and reversed herself instantly, rump thumping onto the floor.

  “Good sit, Jez.” After pushing Beach onto the couch, Tai went to pet her. “Teach him.” He pointed at Beach. On his way by, Tai leaned down to rumble in Beach’s ear, “You stay.” As Tai straightened he muttered, “I’ve got to find a way to stop confusing the dog.”

  Tai went into his bedroom and came out in cargo shorts and a tank top, crossed the living room, and went into the kitchen. Jez trotted over and put her head on Beach’s thigh. It felt like a bowling ball and was about that size and shape. But she did have the most beautiful eyes, full of her heart. Beach rubbed behind her ears, under her jaw. She tipped up her head to let him work, then twisted around to stare as Tai came back over, shoving a glass of orange juice at Beach.

  “Drink this.”

  “Didn’t your gran ever teach you the magic word?”

  “Never knew either one. Drink it. You need some blood sugar.” Tai opened up the fridge again. “Anything you don’t eat?”

  “I’m sure there’s plenty of things in the world I’d rather not put in my mouth, but I’m open to trying new things, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  Beach got a snort of laughter in answer. Jez had followed Tai into the kitchen, where she lapped at a water bowl up on a stand. The guy was sweet enough to his dog to make sure she didn’t have to strain for a drink, but he couldn’t manage a please every now and then?

  At least one of them had been raised with manners. “Can I give you a hand?”

  “Sure.”

  But before Beach could rise to his feet, Tai went on, “You can sit there and drink your orange juice so you don’t pass out and get in the way.”

  Beach stared sharply at his feet. He’d been labeled a lot of things, but helpless had never been one of them.

  The feelings that had sent him charging into the bathroom—where he had definitely not been crying once he got his head under the cold spray—surged back, a pull like a riptide. That infuriating chest-crushing sensation that had dropped the bottom out of the best time he could remember. He rolled his ankles around. Other people popped their knuckles, Beach popped his ankles. It always made him feel better. It didn’t work as well with the weight of the monitor and scream of still-mending bone, but at last he got that satisfying snap, and a soothing relaxation pulsed up his legs.

  Investigating the sound, Jez stalked over, muzzle dripping. She started to lunge forward to wipe her jowls on Beach’s leg and shorts, but he diverted her to the couch.

  “Ha. I’m wise to that trick, pretty girl. Don’t think you’re the first sweet little pup in my life.” He ran his hand along her flank and stopped. There was a thick scar under the short hair, a diagonal slash across her ribs, spine to belly. He swept his hands everywhere, finding another healed wound on her opposite haunch, near the docked tail. “My God, Jez, what happened to you?”

  Tai came out of the kitchen with two plates of scrambled eggs and toast. “I told you she was a rescue. Rescued her from a dogfighting ring.”

  “God damn them straight to hell.” Beach put his orange juice down and held Jez’s head. “There isn’t enough punishment on earth for anyone that low.” He murmured the last in a tone to soothe the anxious look in her eyes.

  “Agreed. She was the only one who wasn’t destroyed.”

  Beach might not have known Tai long, but his feelings were plain in his deep voice. He was a man of honor and kindness, and he’d fought hard to save Jez from where she’d been.

  “Not only are you a pretty girl but lucky too,” Beach cooed, rubbing behind her ears. “And such a sweetheart. Not even begging.” He nodded at the food on the coffee table.

  Jez sighed and plopped her head in Beach’s lap. “She’s usually more shy around strangers.”

  Beach leaned back against the cushions, stroking the dog’s neck, and glanced over at Tai. “My charm works well on the ladies.”

  Tai’s aborted laugh made Jez jerk up her head. She backed away and went around to Tai’s side of the couch and sat. “Good girl.” Tai hand-fed her a blob of egg, and after she’d gulped it and licked her muzzle, she lowered herself to the floor at Tai’s feet.

  “But I never thought to hand-feed them,” Beach added.

  “You’re not feeding yourself,” Tai pointed out.

  Beach scooped up the plate and picked at the eggs. He missed the dog. Without her as a distraction, he was too conscious of the tug inside him. It wanted him to push Jez out of the way to kneel at Tai’s feet. And every pull of it was met with disgust from Beach’s brain demanding to know what kind of man wanted to grovel like a dog to another.

  He took a bite of toast and forced it past the tightness in his throat, then washed it down with orange juice.

  “Feeling better?” Tai said.

  Fine and dandy, thank you. The lie came so fast it was almost past Beach’s lips before he pinched them shut. Instead he shrugged. “What did you call it? Sub drop?”

  Tai nodded.

  “And it’s like a sex hangover?”

  Tai studied Beach in a way that made him think he was missing a big part of the answer. “Have you ever had that feeling after sex before?”

  “No.” Beach put his plate on the coffee table.

  Tai’s tone was far away from the force of his Sir voice and the bourbon-sweet urges when he had Beach spread out and moaning. It was direct, unemotional and very much like—a probation officer going over the rules.

  “What you felt is a reaction from the kind of sex we had, a sharp physical and emotional drop after a scene.”

  “A D/s scene.” The unfamiliar phrase stalled and stuttered on its way out of Beach’s mouth.

  “Yes.” Tai’s lips twisted with a hint of humor. “I don’t know if anyone has done the research with electrodes and blood samples, but it’s similar to the feelings athletes go through. Endorphins get released and make you feel high, then you crash.”

  “And that always happens?”

  “Not always. It depends on the person. Doms can experience it too.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “But worth it.”

  Beach couldn’t deny that. He wished he were the sort of person this sub drop didn’t happen to, but he wouldn’t trade away the incredible heights he’d reached. The pull was still there, wanting Tai’s attention, his notice, his approval. Beach glanced at Jez, and she
lifted her head and made a whistling sigh. Poor Jez. I know just how you feel. Damn him.

  Tai had them both panting after a look or a touch. Beach certainly didn’t feel the need to be the alpha male; the necessary posturing and confrontation were much too tedious, but he wasn’t ready to surrender every ounce of dignity for something that felt good. He hadn’t done that since he was fifteen and panting over his roommate. Then he found out it wasn’t only Gavin Montgomery who could fuck him like that.

  Tai went on in lecture mode. “It’s usual for submissives to need contact with the Dominant after the scene, to ease—”

  “Wait. I thought this was about the subm—me—meeting your needs.”

  “D/s meets both our needs.”

  With a jolt that flung him to his feet, want and shame blazed in Beach’s gut. “I sure as hell didn’t need that cold shower you shoved me into.”

  “David, sit down.” The words, the force of Tai’s voice, pushed Beach back onto the couch.

  He placed his palms flat against the cushion on either side of his thighs, as surprised by the outburst that had dragged him up as the obedience that dropped him back down.

  Beach didn’t do anger. It was a waste of a good time. Like jealousy. If he couldn’t charm it, buy it, or change it, he ignored it.

  “Can you control yourself?” Tai asked.

  “Of course I can control myself.” Beach drew himself up straight and glared at Tai.

  The slant of Tai’s brows and the shift in his mouth made Beach consider the last few seconds of his behavior. “Uh, I can now.” There was probably supposed to be a Sir tacked to the end of that, but Beach didn’t feel like adding it.

  “Okay.” Tai’s dark eyes held Beach’s gaze, demanding his attention. “You did need it and you wanted it and you asked for it.”

  Beach opened his mouth, but Tai went on.

  “You disobeyed me and you made sure I’d find out.”

  “I—It wouldn’t have been right to leave the cuffs at my apartment.” But his voice betrayed him, weak and unsure.

  “You wanted to know what I’d do about it.”

  He did. And he wanted to know now. The want twisted around him, twisted him until he wasn’t himself. “Yes.” The confession was a grunt from his throat.