Synful Dreams [Syn’s Playground] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Shea Balik

  “I mean it,” he yelled. “I want you to leave.”

  The nurse must have heard him for she came rushing in. PJ thought her name was Rhonda or Ramona. Hell, he didn’t know and with the pain coursing through him, PJ wasn’t likely to remember. “What’s going on here?”

  “He’s in pain,” Syn stated.

  PJ was tempted to say, “duh,” but another wave of intense agony washed over him and the only thing he could manage was a groan as he tried to lie back on the bed.

  A scream ripped from his throat at the move. Apparently, he’d made a big mistake by trying to lie down, for the cast on his ankle to keep it immobile was too heavy and it forced his leg to remain on the floor, bending his knee downward.

  “Help me,” the nurse said. PJ assumed she was speaking to Syn and even though he didn’t want the man there, PJ had to admit to being glad he hadn’t left for within seconds the two of them managed to get him on the bed with a pillow under his injured leg to help ease the pressure.

  The nurse glanced at his chart and then her watch. “It looks like you are due for a painkiller. Is there anything else I can get you while I’m gone?”

  PJ closed his eyes, unwilling to look at Syn as he said, “Yes. I want him to leave.”

  Syn tried to protest, but the nurse wasn’t having it. She threatened to call security, but it was the reminder that PJ needed to rest if he was going to heal that finally did the trick.

  Even as he heard Syn say good-bye, PJ refused to open his eyes. But once he heard the squeak of his shoes against the hospital floor dissipate, PJ allowed the tears to come. He may wish they could be together, but he knew better than to believe that could ever happen.

  No. If PJ had any hope of coming away with his heart mostly intact, he needed to stay as far away from Syn as possible.

  “Here,” the nurse gently said as she handed him a little paper cup with a pill in it.

  When he popped the pill into his mouth, she handed him a cup of water. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked.

  PJ hated that he wanted to ask her to call Syn back. Instead, he shook his head. “No thank you.”

  It didn’t take long for the pill to work, and PJ allowed the medication to dull the pain not only in his knee, but the ache that now surrounded his heart.

  Chapter Nine

  “I said I don’t want any interruptions,” Syn yelled when there was a knock on the door. It had been a week since PJ had banned him from the hospital and Syn was starting to lose his patience with the obstinate man.

  He had no idea when PJ had grown the spine to stand up to him, but Syn wasn’t sure he liked it. No. That wasn’t true. He loved it. He just wished it wasn’t being used to keep him away from his little love.

  Syn would rather it be used in their scenes, or even the bedroom, but keeping him out of PJ’s life entirely was unacceptable. Still, he had to admire his little love’s strength and resolve.

  The door to his office cracked open and Joel stuck his head inside. “I thought you’d like to know Manuel arrived.”

  Syn smiled at the news. “Send him in.”

  Joel rolled his eyes. “He’s down at the bar, yelling at the workers to change the design for it won’t work.”

  Syn chuckled. He should have known. Manuel liked things a certain way. Unfortunately, by the time he’d hired the bartender, the work to the bar had already been done. Standing, he followed Joel down the stairs to the main bar.

  “I don’t care what the plans said. The glass racks need to be here, here and here.” Manuel pointed to the three places he wanted the racks mounted over the bar. “And there should be three coolers on this side.” Manuel pointed. “The four there are fine, but the other three need to be on the far side.”

  “I see you’re making yourself right at home,” Syn called out.

  Manuel whirled, a smile on his face in greeting. “Syn, good to see you.”

  “You, too,” Syn told him as they hugged. “Now what are you doing to my bar?”

  The scowl that had been on Manuel’s face when Syn first came down was back. “Whoever designed this bar clearly has never worked in one.”

  As far as he knew, Manuel was correct in his assumption. PJ had never worked in a bar. “Well make any changes you want, but this isn’t the only bar and most likely not the one you’ll work in most of the time.”

  “Oh?” Manuel asked. “So where will I be working?”

  With PJ being shot, Syn hadn’t been able to talk with Manuel. He’d had Joel call him and offer him the job. “This is to be two clubs.” He put his arms out to encompass the downstairs. “This will be the main dance club, geared mostly to the gay crowd, although anyone is welcome so long as they don’t cause trouble.”

  Then he led Manuel to an escalator he had installed, although it hadn’t been finished as of yet, so they had to walk up the steps. At the top was an entryway for the escalator and elevator and a set of large ornate dark cherry wood doors.

  “Impressive,” Manuel said as he ran his hand over the rich wood.

  Carved within the two doors were floggers, paddles, handcuffs and intertwining them a rope that wove through the two doors. It was a piece of art that had come out even better than Syn had ever hoped when he’d asked Cedar Falls craftsman, Parker Flemming, to make it for him. “Thanks.”

  Then he opened the doors. Syn couldn’t deny being pleased to hear Manuel’s gasp of surprise as he got his first look. The entire room was done with rich cedar wood and dark chocolate leather. Touches of burnished gold spread throughout with the light fixtures and shelving for the bar, gave the place an old world look.

  A stage took up one side of the room with the dining area spread out around it in order for the patrons to see perfectly. In front was a dance floor, which would also provide standing room for those wishing to get closer to the shows they would provide.

  “This is amazing,” Manuel told him as he walked through the room, heading straight for the bar with its cherry wood counter. His hand stroked the smooth wood as if he just couldn’t help himself. “I can see why you’d think I would spend my time up here.”

  Manuel, like Syn, was a Dom. It was how they’d met nearly five years ago when Syn first hired him to work for Titan. He’d tried to entice Manuel to work in the cooperate offices, but Manuel was someone who preferred to remain behind the bar, not in a stuffy office.

  “Are there private rooms, as well?” Manuel asked as he rounded the bar to check things out.

  “Upstairs. The entire third floor was renovated with private play rooms, including safety features.” It was something Syn had learned long ago when he’d moved to New York.

  Those who were serious about BDSM did so with three main rules, safe, sane, and consensual. Unfortunately, not everyone who tried BDSM understood, or even cared about those rules. There were those that believed they could use the world of BDSM, twist it for their own sick needs.

  It was for that reason Syn insisted certain safety protocols be put into practice at his club. He wouldn’t allow anyone to use Syn’s Playground, or the BDSM community to hurt others.

  “Have you hired any observers?” Manuel asked.

  Syn had two men in mind that he’d contacted, but he still needed a few more, plus an overseer. “I have a couple, but I could use a strong man to run things.” That was even truer now that he’d seen for himself PJ’s situation.

  Not only would he need room to recuperate, but he had his niece, Emma, to take care of and there was no way PJ, or Syn for that matter, was going to allow her to grow up on the top floor of a BDSM club. No, he was going to have to find someone else to run the day to day operations, which was just fine with him as it would give him more time to spend with PJ.

  “I might know someone who would be willing to take the job,” Manuel said just as Joel walked into the room.

  “Mr. Evans, we have a problem,” Joel said even as he glared at Manuel. “It appears Mr. Rodriguez here has created a bit of chaos and the constr
uction workers refuse to continue until someone in charge gives them orders, which thanks to Mr. Rodriguez,” Joel said stiffly. “They no longer believe is me.”

  A speculative gleam entered Manuel’s eye and he smiled. “Just the right person to…uh…ruffle some feathers.”

  Syn hoped Manuel meant Joel’s feathers, for the man could use some genuine fun in his life. Joel took things way too seriously, tending to hide behind his stuffy manners when a situation became too intense. “Call him. See what he has to say,” he told Manuel, before addressing Joel. “I’ll be right there, Joel.”

  With any luck, Syn would gain not only someone to manage his club, but a Dom for Joel who could take him out of the perfectly tidy world Joel has created for himself.

  Chapter Ten

  “What are you doing here?” PJ glared daggers at Syn when Daniel rolled his wheelchair out of the hospital to Syn’s waiting SUV. He bought it just for the purpose of transporting PJ home and any appointments he had in the near future.

  Sure, it was kind of a dirty trick, but Syn would use whatever he could to get closer to PJ. “Daniel said he didn’t have a vehicle big enough to fit your wheelchair,” Syn said as innocently as he could manage. “I offered my SUV.”

  PJ clearly wasn’t buying the innocent act. “I’m not about to let you take me home.”

  Daniel ignored them as he put PJ’s two bags that contained the stuff PJ had collected while in the hospital into the back of the SUV. Then he climbed into the backseat and buckled himself in.

  PJ glared at his brother. “I said I’m not about to let him take me home.”

  Daniel just shrugged. “Then find your own way home. I’m going with Syn.”

  Syn had to bite his lip not to laugh at PJ’s look of surprise. “But I’m your brother,” he said as if that should resolve any issue.

  Daniel didn’t seem moved. “Yes, you are, which is the only reason I haven’t told you to fuck off every time you yelled at me because you were too stubborn to ask for Syn to come back. Or at the fact that you have had me running back and forth so that someone was able to visit you, even though I have exams coming up. But I’m not going to take it anymore. Figure out a way to deal with the fact that Syn is here to help us because I have to tell you, I can’t do everything, not if I have any hope of passing my classes.”

  PJ had the good grace to blush at his brother’s dressing down, but he clearly wasn’t ready to ask Syn for help. If they weren’t standing in front of the hospital, Syn might have demanded that PJ ask for his help, but he didn’t want to draw a bigger crowd than they already had.

  “Let’s get you into the car,” Syn told him.

  When PJ didn’t fight him, Syn took it to mean he was willing. As quickly as he could, he had PJ in the passenger seat, with his seatbelt on and the wheelchair stored in the back of the SUV. By the cold shoulder Daniel was giving PJ, and the equally cold shoulder PJ was giving both Syn and Daniel, it was going to be interesting when they got home.

  Thankfully, Emma was still at daycare because that girl was more obstinate than either of her uncles, and Syn wasn’t sure he could take on all three. Then again, if he could get her on his side, Syn was pretty certain Emma could whip her uncles into shape.

  “How do you know where we live?” PJ asked as he pulled into their driveway after a silent car ride.

  Syn wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. He didn’t want to start a fight before even getting in the door, but apparently Daniel had no such qualms. “Because he’s been living here since you were shot.” Then Daniel leapt from the vehicle, opened the back and started gathering up PJ’s things to take into the house, seemingly unconcerned that he’d just initiated a firestorm within his brother.

  “You what?” PJ shouted the moment the back gate shut and Daniel headed into the house.

  Tired already, Syn gave a weary sigh before exiting the SUV. Since Daniel had only taken PJ’s things out and not his wheelchair, he once more opened the back and pulled it out. Setting it up, he wheeled it around to the passenger’s side so PJ could get out.

  It wasn’t often Syn didn’t meet things head on, but he had to admit to being tempted to let PJ sit there and stew. He didn’t want to hear the love of his life tell him he wasn’t welcome yet again. Even though he understood it, and probably even deserved it, Syn was still hurt that PJ could so easily push him away.

  But it wasn’t in Syn’s nature to put off his problems. He was a fixer. Someone who met life head on, refusing to bow as he charted his own path in life. He just wished he would have done that thirteen years ago instead of running when things got difficult, then they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  He opened the door but PJ didn’t even turn his head to look at him. He just sat there staring straight ahead. A part of Syn was cheering that PJ had so much spunk. He just wasn’t sure why it had to be against him when all he wanted to do was love this man.

  “I moved in to help Daniel when you were in the hospital because he was drowning trying to go to classes, take care of Emma, and worrying about you,” Syn finally said.

  PJ’s lips pursed together into a scowl. His hands clenched together in his lap. “I don’t…”

  Syn didn’t let him finish. “Want me here. I know.” This wasn’t exactly the ideal way to woo his little love back into his arms, but with PJ in a wheelchair and needing help, there weren’t a lot of options. At least none that Syn was willing to entertain. PJ was his and he wasn’t about to let anyone else take care of him.

  So he leaned in close to PJ, making sure they were on eye level, even if PJ refused to look his way. “But whether you want to admit it or not, you need me. So let’s get you out of the car and into the house before the neighbors start coming over to find out why you’re not moving.”

  Apparently that was enough to get PJ to agree to Syn’s help. Five minutes later, he had a sweaty, moaning PJ up the small ramp he’d had built to the front door.

  PJ’s clenched teeth and fisted hands belied just how much pain he was in. “I think it’s time for a pain pill,” Syn announced when he’d gotten PJ inside. “Let me get it for you first, and then we’ll get you into bed. That way it will have started to kick in by the time you’re lying down.”

  PJ just nodded, most likely unable to speak as the agony of moving from the car had worn him out. Daniel had already put all of PJ’s pills on the counter, making it easy for Syn to find the right one. With a pill and bottle of water in hand, Syn hurried back to the entryway and handed them to PJ.

  While PJ took the pill, Syn wheeled him into the master bedroom, which thankfully, was on the first floor of the small two-story home PJ owned. There were two more bedrooms upstairs with a bathroom for them to share. It would mean PJ couldn’t help with Emma’s getting her dressed in the mornings, but at least PJ wouldn’t bedtime or have to climb stairs every day just to sleep.

  “Do you need to go to the bathroom first?” Syn asked, already prepared for the fight that would surely ensue. Even when they’d lived together, sharing every possible intimacy two people could, PJ had always demanded that his time in the bathroom would be without an audience.

  Too bad that wouldn’t exactly be possible at the moment. The occupational therapists had managed to teach him to pee in a plastic urinal, but if he wanted to use the bathroom instead, PJ would need help until he could put some weight on his injured ankle.

  By the redness of PJ’s face, Syn feared steam might come out at any moment as his little love glared at him. “I can do it myself,” PJ tried to insist through clenched teeth.

  But if PJ thought he was stubborn, he clearly didn’t remember just how obstinate Syn was. The years had only made him more determined instead of softening them. “The only reason the doctors allowed you to come home was because you promised to get help with things like using the bathroom and transferring to the bed and the chair for the next couple of weeks. I’m not about to allow you to make your ankle worse because you’re too shy to pee in front of me.”


  To prove he meant every word, Syn rolled the chair into the spacious bathroom. The master bedroom and bathroom were about the only spacious rooms in the house. The previous owners had renovated the house by knocking out a wall to combine what used to be a den, living room and dining room to create a master suite. It meant the rest of the living space of the kitchen—with eating nook and family room—were somewhat small, but with PJ in a wheelchair, the big master suite would allow him to get around more easily.

  The occupational therapist suggested PJ sit on the toilet whenever he used it, that way there was no chance of him accidentally putting his injured foot onto the floor for balance. Locking the wheels, Syn helped figure out the best way to transfer. It took three tries for them to get it right.

  Once he was sitting, PJ said, “Please leave me alone for a minute.” The furious red that stained PJ’s cheeks was enough for Syn to accommodate his wishes. He wasn’t looking to make this experience worse for his little love.

  “Okay, but only if you give me your word you won’t try to get back to the wheelchair without calling me first.” Even though PJ nodded, Syn didn’t trust him and wheeled the chair out of reach.

  PJ was clearly exhausted or in a lot of pain, or a combination of both as he didn’t even seem to notice. Syn went back into the bedroom and pulled the covers down to make it easier to get PJ into bed.

  The toilet flushed.

  “Syn.” PJ’s sounded like he was about to fall asleep. Hopefully the pain pill was kicking in.

  Sure enough, when Syn entered the bathroom, PJ’s eyes were closed and his body was listing to the side. “Come on, little love. Let’s get you to bed,” Syn murmured.

  With PJ just about falling asleep where he was, Syn decided it would be easier to just pick him up and carry him to bed. PJ may argue with him, but Syn didn’t think he had enough energy to offer much of a fight. That was confirmed when Syn stripped off PJ’s basketball shorts, since they were still down around his ankles and PJ didn’t even make a peep.