* * * *
Another deputy arrived, and they got Greg searched, his rights read to him, and loaded him into the back of one of the cars while the first deputy took Simon and Victor’s statement.
“Is this the key to your place?” He held one up that they’d taken off him.
“That fucker! He had another key!”
“You didn’t change the locks when you kicked him out?” Victor asked.
“No. It’s a rental. That’s a pain in the ass. I didn’t think he’d do that.”
“But he’s not supposed to be here?” the deputy asked.
“No. I kicked him out. Hey, wait a minute.” He thought back to various misplaced items, and the missing leftovers. “I bet he’s been coming back here for a while.”
Simon wanted to go beat the answer out of him, but the deputies asked him to let them handle it.
“Motherfucker,” Simon muttered. “Now I wish I’d punched him a few more times.”
He had gotten a few licks in, including one that was definitely going to leave Greg with a shiner.
I should have kicked him in the balls.
The first deputy returned. “You want the good news, or the bad news.”
“Bad,” they said in unison.
“The reason he broke in wasn’t to steal anything.”
Simon and Victor exchanged a confused glance. “How is that the bad news?” Simon asked. “And why was he here?”
The deputy was wearing black nitrile gloves, and he held up a plastic evidence bag.
Inside, what looked like several used tissues.
Victor recoiled. “Ohhh, you gotta be shitting me.”
“What?” Simon asked.
“He was jerking off while watching us?” Victor asked.
The deputy nodded. “Yep. He said he ate some food a couple of times, but didn’t steal anything. So, technically him not stealing anything is the good news. Why he was really here, though, is the bad.”
Simon shuddered. “That is utterly fucked up. We want to press charges. Did he say why he fucking perved on us?”
“He’s living in a hotel and said he misses you, and that you blocked his phone number. He was lonely.”
“Gross,” Victor said. “I’m sorry, but that’s just creepy.”
“I agree,” the deputy said.
It was an hour before Victor could get out of there. Fortunately, it wasn’t making him late, because he’d awakened early.
Before he left, Simon pulled Victor in for a kiss. “I hope that didn’t scare you off.”
Victor stopped, turned, and drew him in for another kiss. “Notice the tie?”
Now Simon did, smiling. “You just wore it Friday.”
“I don’t care.” He smoothed it down. “Even better, the memories are nice and fresh.” He nipped Simon’s right ear. “Just like the cane marks on your ass.”
“We need to move. I don’t want to stay here when my lease is up.”
“Agreed. Get the locks changed today. Call the landlord. I’ll pay half, whatever it is. Or if we need to, I’ll stop on the way home and get some and change them myself.”
* * * *
Victor still wasn’t sure what to think about the crazy morning. He was still processing.
A shudder rolled through him.
And I thought I was a perv?
Greg had admitted to spying on them several times while they slept, each time getting bolder and bolder.
The man needed help. Serious help.
Didn’t mean Victor wasn’t going to press charges, though.
As he headed to the office to meet his first clients of the morning, he had to pass by the neighborhood where the duplex was.
Okay, weirder and weirder.
It was like the Universe was conspiring not just to bring them together, but to shove them toward finding a place that was theirs.
For the first time since graduating college, everything in his life felt right.
Other than the creeper and unfortunate ghosts.
He’d done a little more research and found out June had also been involved in a justified shooting over a year ago on Manasota Key. She and a friend had been jumped by a guy, the friend’s abusive ex, and he’d had a knife.
June had dropped him.
Victor didn’t have anything against guns, but he didn’t have any, either. He’d been thinking about it for a while, because other realtors were now carrying, especially women. Including Lara. Sometimes, they had to see clients alone, out of the office, and in an empty house.
This is Florida.
He’d think about that later. Today, he wanted to sell a house and be able to celebrate with Simon when he got home.
And try to rid himself of the creepy feeling of having been spied on.
* * * *
The rental agency sent a locksmith out that afternoon to re-key the locks. Simon paid the bill without question and had four shiny new keys in his hand when the guy left.
Against his better judgment, Simon called one of his mutual friends with Greg, the fucking kind of friend, to talk to him and tell him what happened.
“So I guess what I’m asking is have you talked to Greg lately? Did he say anything that would explain this insane behavior?”
“I know he’s been missing you. He said he was talking to you, trying to get you to change your mind and take him back.”
“Yeah, no. That’s not been happening. At all. I’d blocked his number.”
“Fuck, man. Sorry. That’s creepy as shit.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, congratulations, anyway. On your new guy.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
After getting off the phone with him, he called the deputy back from that morning and updated him with that info, including the guy’s name and phone number, plus names and phone numbers of other mutual friends.
He didn’t know if they’d be able to use the info, but maybe the judge could order Greg to get counseling or something.
It was more than a relief when Victor returned home that evening a little before seven.
“Am I glad to see you?”
“Why? What happened?”
“You came home.”
“Can’t scare me off that easily. Did the locks get changed?”
“Yes, Sir.” Simon held up a key for him.
Victor stared at it for a moment before he took it. “You’re sure you’re okay calling me Sir?”
“Let’s not beat around the bush—I love you. I want to keep doing whatever the hell this is that we’re doing. You said yourself that it’s not ass-caning every night. Frankly, we’ve had the hottest sex we’ve ever had the past two days, and it was pretty damn hot to start with. I think if you keep mixing sex and that, you’re right. You’ll have me hooked. Call me your slave, if you want, because before long, I know dang well I’m going to be begging for that anyway.”
Victor slowly nodded. “There’s just one more thing.”
“What?”
Victor dropped down onto one knee and held Simon’s left hand. “If you’re going to be my slave, you need to be my husband, too. I know I said I wanted to take things slow, but it looks like at every turn, the Universe is conspiring to shove us together. I might be stubborn, but I can take a damn hint. Will you marry me?”
Simon nodded. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“You log into my laptop for me, please, and delete those fucking pictures I copied over from that asshole’s thumb drive. I don’t want them there. I have no reason to keep them.”
Victor stood, his arms around Simon. “Anything for you, baby. Anything.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure?”
Simon propped his hands on his hips. “You are awfully damn whiny for a Dom, you know that? Yes, I’m sure, Victor.”
“I’m not whiny. I’m cautious.”
“Then you’d better collar me as your fucking slave and quit screwing around before you aggravate
me.”
When Victor smiled, then started laughing, Simon knew he’d been had.
Again.
Victor pulled Simon in for a kiss.
Four weeks living together, and both men knew this wasn’t just for now.
It was forever.
Not only had Victor’s Domly side not scared Simon away, Simon had started craving their play. Sometimes it wasn’t more than a few slaps on his ass.
But when Victor had purchased a leather collar and matching set of wrist and ankle cuffs, Simon had dropped to his knees in front of Victor and begged to run around naked and wear them.
Begged.
And then only after Victor had relented and put them on Simon did Simon realize how expertly he’d been played.
It was that sneaky damn smile Victor had that gave him away every time.
Simon didn’t mind. In fact, he loved Victor even more for it. He’d revealed more of his sneaky Dom side to Simon, and it was then that Simon realized he was craving the good kinds of mind games from the man.
“Next Saturday,” Victor said. “At the club.”
Simon grabbed him by the head and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Some Doms might say I’m doing this whole Dom thing wrong.” He let out a sigh. “But they’re probably assholes, so fuck ’em.”
“No, you only get to fuck me,” Simon reminded him.
Victor grabbed his ass and ground his hips against Simon’s. “That’s right baby. Only you.”
“Oh, Greg decided to plead guilty to everything in exchange for a reduced sentence.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. Check this out—his ex in New York said Greg did the same thing to him. That’s why Greg ended up moving, to avoid charges being pressed.”
“Ew.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Maybe he should go to jail then,” Victor said.
“No, I want him out of our lives. He’ll get probation, he’ll probably still keep his job, or at least be able to get another one, and they’ll issue a restraining order against him to keep him away from us. Do you really want to testify at a trial about something like this? Because I know I don’t.”
“True.” Victor rubbed noses with him. “So I’m going to collar me a submissive, hmm?”
“Uh, nooo. You said you were going to collar me as your slave.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, duh!” He poked Victor’s chest. “You stood right here and…”
Victor was already laughing.
“And you played me again.”
“Did I?”
Grin.
“Should I start calling you Master Studly Pants now or after I’m collared, Sir?”
“What happened to calling me Master Hugeus Erectus?”
“That was last week. I’ve changed my mind.”
“Are slaves allowed to do that?”
“You tell me.” He snuggled against him again. “Your rules.”
Victor let out a sigh. “Hoisted by my own technicalities, huh?”
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
* * * *
They had a good crowd for their collaring. Even though Victor and Simon still hadn’t met Tilly in person, they were friends with her two men, Cris and Landry, and their friend Bob, who apparently hung around a lot with the triad. Simon and Victor had been to their house a couple of times for dinner with the three men, although Tilly had been out of town.
Even June and Scrye were in attendance.
Victor and Simon and the others had kept their mouths shut about what they knew. The woman had obviously been through enough. No need to mention what they thought they’d seen.
If they’d even be believed.
Plus, tonight was about celebrating. Victor had popped the question last week, with every intention of waiting a few months to hold the wedding, but in that week he’d realized something.
Waiting was a stupid fucking plan.
Both of them were certain what they wanted, and that this was what they wanted.
Neither of them needed to keep being careful and cautious when even their careful and cautious friends wanted to know when they could start looking for wedding invitations.
Loren called everyone together. “Hey, we need y’all’s attention.” She smiled. “We got us a collarin’ to attend to.”
Victor rolled his eyes. “I don’t have that much of a drawl.”
Simon held up his thumb and index finger, barely apart.
“Smart ass.”
Simon stuck out his tongue at him. “Yes, Sir.”
When everyone had settled, Loren dropped the drawl and got started.
“For starters, Tilly sends her love—”
“And postcards from London, pip pip, what,” Gilo chimed in with a British accent, cracking everyone up.
“And that,” Loren said. “I always tell people this is a family, and it really is. It’s an adopted family. And we keep growing it by bringing others in. Lara, Brad, Everett, and Wylie brought in Victor. Wade, Glen, and Justin brought in Simon. And two more people found each other who might not have ever met. I never take that for granted, how special what we do here is to our lives. We celebrate and mourn together. We support each other. We keep each other’s counsel. We do some pretty crazy shit sometimes.”
“Word,” Gilo muttered, prompting more laughs.
“But what we always do above all else is done with love. For each other, for this lifestyle, and for ourselves. We learn to stand up and do what we need in this life, even if it rubs us raw in the process to keep swimming upstream, to keep fighting against the grain, take care of what we truly need to be happy. Victor?”
He held Simon’s hands, smiling down at him. “I don’t know what the hell I did right to meet you, but I’m sure glad I did. You and I have done a lot of talking, and we’ve made plans. But the only thing that matters right this moment is I need you to say out loud, for everyone to hear, that you want to be my submissive.”
“Slave, numb-nuts. I want to be your slave.”
Everyone roared with laughter, Gilo nearly falling over, he was gasping so hard for breath.
Victor grinned. “So you want to be my slave, hmm?”
“Yes. I want you to be my Master, and I’m your slave.”
“I suppose you want me to collar you right now in front of all these people, huh?”
“Damn right I do!” Simon dropped to his knees and pointed at his neck. “Right there, buddy.”
“I…can’t…take…it!” Gilo wheezed, finally having to sit down because he’d started coughing from laughing so hard. His wife, Abbey, shook her head as she pounded him on the back.
“Please don’t choke to death, John. Tilly will kill me if I let that happen.”
That only made him laugh harder.
* * * *
Simon would later blame it on the butt plug, on the fact that maybe no one else could hear it, but Simon could feel it rolling around in his ass while Victor dragged the ceremony out.
The only way it was getting shut off was if he got collared and took twenty cane strokes in front of everyone.
And he needed it shut off, soon, because if Victor didn’t shut it off, Simon was going to come.
And if he came before Victor told him to, he was going to have to spend the next three days in chastity, whatever the fuck that was.
Hell, he didn’t even know what it was, and had found himself begging to add it to the punishment list while Victor had him tied up and was going down on him and talking to him about the plans for the collaring ceremony, and…
Fuck.
I’m screwed.
Sooooo screwed.
Victor’s hand dipped into his pocket, and Simon grimaced in preparation for the explosion…except the damn sadist smiled and turned the vibrator all the way off, his pleased grin all the proof Simon needed to know that he was wrapped around the man’s fingers, but good.
Or was that butt good?
When Victor’s hand emerged
from his pocket, he held a stainless steel necklace. After draping it around Simon’s neck, he held his hands out to him to help him up.
“My very good boy. I promise, as your Master, that I’ll take very good care of you. Starting with our wedding eight weeks from now.”
“Eight?”
“Okay, fine, four weeks.”
“You sadistic son of a bitch.” He grabbed Victor’s shirt and kissed him, hard. “Is this what life is going to be like for the rest of our lives?”
“I fucking hope so.”
Simon smiled up at him. “Me, too.”
“Yeah, well, that was fun,” Loren said. “Congrats, and I pronounce you, eh, whatever the hell you two are.”
“Master and one very happy slave,” Simon said.
“What he said,” Victor echoed.
* * * *
It was a gorgeous evening, and a slight breeze and the citronella candles kept any hint of mosquitoes away.
While over half of the attendees were Suncoast Society members, it was a vanilla gathering.
Well, vanilla-ish.
With Victor’s coworkers and family, Simon’s coworkers and family, and vanilla friends in attendance, they went for a sedate, short, ceremony with the focus on the fun and food of the reception. They’d asked everyone to dress for a backyard barbecue. Simon had chosen their matching shirts, bright Hawaiian print florals mostly in blue.
Victor didn’t care if they were dressed in tuxes or bare-ass naked. All he cared about was the ring he was about to put on this gorgeous man’s hand.
And the one Simon was going to put on his.
Loren smiled as everyone gathered around the men. “Hey, everybody. We have got some massively good-looking grub tonight.” A low wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. “So let’s keep this short and sweet, as per the men’s request.” She opened a small journal in her hands. “Join hands, you two.”
They did.
“Tonight is about love and trust and friendship and family. Victor and Simon have asked you all together this evening to be a part of this celebration, a witness to their commitment to each other—”
“And the psych ward,” Gilo chimed in, earning a louder round of laughs from the Suncoast Society people.
Rub Me Raw [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations ManLove) Page 12
