Indifference of Heaven [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations ManLove)

by Tymber Dalton

  He wasn’t going to smother her with a flurry of messages, blow up her phone with texts.

  The ball was now in her court.

  She’d sought him out. He had no idea what her life was really like, or if she was even married, or had kids. Hell, maybe she didn’t even live locally, and had travelled to hunt him down. Who knew?

  Maybe she’s finding a local lawyer who will want to sue you for back child support.

  Maybe having dropped that personal atomic bomb on him, she’d switched to indifference since the outrage was now purged from her system.

  Or maybe I’m going to drive myself crazy because I just don’t fucking know.

  Maybe Helen would still be alive if he’d known about Ella. He would have been helping support her, and Helen might not have moved to Oregon.

  It was useless to torture himself, and he knew that. But guilt still ate at him.

  I need a fucking distraction.

  He didn’t do waiting well. Not like this, not this kind of impatient purgatory.

  Caleb stopped by his office before lunch to go over more items, which Boyd didn’t mind at all. The guy was actually picking up things faster than he’d expected him to, considering how new he was and how much larger and more densely populated Sarasota County was compared to where Caleb had moved from, their logistics far more intense and complicated than Caleb was used to.

  “You want to grab lunch with me?” Boyd asked despite his brain trying to send him warning signals. “There’s a sandwich shop down the block we can walk to.”

  Caleb smiled. “Sure. I’d like that. Thanks.”

  “Excellent.” Hell, it wasn’t unusual for him to go to lunch with his subordinates or coworkers. He sometimes ate out with others once or twice a week, and he hadn’t yet had lunch with Caleb.

  Once they’d placed their orders and had grabbed a two-person table along the wall to wait, Boyd scrolled through his work phone like he was checking e-mails, but he was really watching Caleb.

  He was fucking adorable. Last night’s fantasy had been ordering him to his knees and fucking his face, then finishing in what he suspected was an adorably tight bubble butt beneath his khakis.

  Talk about gorgeous green eyes. If the guy Kent had arranged for him was half as cute, he’d be tempted to kiss Kent out of thanks.

  It was hard to focus when Caleb’s green eyes met his.

  “So how are you liking Sarasota so far?” Boyd asked.

  “It…it’s great. Definitely different than where I’m from and what I’m used to. I really like it here.”

  “Any plans this weekend?”

  Caleb’s cheeks pinkened. “Um…yeah. Spending…uh, spending it with friends.”

  Boyd’s radar went up, but with his supervisor brain screaming reminders about sexual harassment and hostile work environment training at him, he didn’t tease, didn’t press. It wasn’t his business unless Caleb wanted to say something.

  “So you’ve made some new friends since moving here? That’s good, huh?”

  More pink.

  The shade of pink I’d love to turn his ass.

  “Yeah. Lon, over in Economic Development, he’s, um, introducing me to people.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  “Yeah.”

  Boyd was going to try to work in an indirect question about Caleb’s personal life, but then their orders were ready, and the opportunity passed.

  Probably for the best. Pleasantly indifferent bosses don’t get fired for perving on their subordinates.

  After lunch they returned to work, and Boyd tried to keep his mind focused on work. Now he was desperately looking forward to tomorrow and meeting the newbie Kent insisted would blow him—and blow him away.

  I could use the distraction.

  Chapter Seven

  Boyd went through his implement bag Saturday afternoon and tried to slim it down a little. If the guy was a newbie, there were things Boyd wouldn’t be using on him tonight.

  Then again, maybe he would.

  Fuck it.

  He repacked it and set it by the door after making sure he had his leather hood in there. He had a lycra hood he could also wear, but the leather hood made a statement. It would be fun watching the guy at future parties and knowing who he was, but watching him searching, seeing if he recognized anyone, trying to figure out if the people who’d done him tonight were in attendance.

  Kent was right. If the guy was as cute as Kent said he was, Boyd knew he’d want to see the guy’s eyes, watch his expression as he played with him, enjoy making his eyes water as he face-fucked him.

  If the guy’s eyes were the same or similar shade of green as Caleb’s, even better.

  He took his shower, shaved, and opted for jeans, a black short-sleeved button-up shirt, and his black leather motorcycle boots. If he was going to be in Dom mode tonight, he liked to dress the part. Especially if the guy was a newbie. Give him the full experience.

  He also remembered to pack an overnight bag, just in case. Hell, wasn’t like he had to be anywhere tomorrow, except here.

  There were already four cars parked in Kent’s front yard when Boyd let himself onto the property with his personal gate code and drove up and parked in the shade of an oak tree. He didn’t recognize any of the other cars parked there. Kent already had the front door open, a grin on his face to greet Boyd as he made his way up the walk.

  “There’s my Dom of the day!”

  “Hey.”

  Kent scowled. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, just—” He knew there were people inside and dropped his voice. “We can talk tomorrow after everyone leaves. Vanilla personal stuff not related to this. I could use a nonjudgmental ear to bounce stuff off of.”

  Serious Kent immediately appeared. “Work? Money? Health?”

  “No, no, and no.”

  “Sure. You want to talk now? I’ll tell them to chill for a little and we can go out back.”

  “Nah. It can wait until tomorrow. Frankly, I’m looking forward to the distraction.”

  Kent shifted gears immediately and grinned. “Oh, he’s gorgeous. He arrived before everyone else, and I already prepped and blindfolded him.”

  “‘Prepped’?”

  “Not fucked, jeezus, I promised you a fun night.” He laughed and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Had to teach the kid how to clean himself out, if you can believe it. That’s how new he is.” Kent poked him in the shoulder. “Lucky bastard. You really will be breaking him in.”

  “Huh?”

  “I told the twins they’re not allowed to fuck him.”

  “I thought there were three of them?”

  “Twins, triplets, whatever. It’s a figure of speech, anyway.” Kent poked him again and grinned. “You got yourself an ass virgin, buddy.”

  Alarm bells rang in Boyd’s brain. “Whoa, wait a minute—”

  “Don’t worry, he’s had toys up there himself, and he’s sucked a couple of cocks and had his cock sucked. Apparently he went up to the Toucan one weekend, but he couldn’t make himself go all the way. In fact, I told him to bring his own toys with him, and he’s got one of his own butt plugs up there now. Yes, he put it in. I haven’t touched him like that yet.” Another grin. “I’m letting you unwrap that present, buddy.”

  Boyd wasn’t sure he wanted to be someone’s first. Sure, for some guys he saw why it was an ego boost, but if it went bad it could also leave him with a lifetime of guilt.

  He was living proof of the other side of that.

  And Boyd was currently and unexpectedly finding himself overbooked in the guilt department as it was. Especially since discovering the only other first fuck he’d been for someone had resulted in a daughter he hadn’t known about.

  At least the guy can’t get pregnant.

  Still, he followed Kent inside.

  After dropping his implement and overnight bags in the same spare bedroom he’d be sleeping in, Boyd joined Kent in the kitchen. For now, Boyd wanted to keep his clothes on
.

  “Where is he?”

  “I have him in the back bedroom, naked and sitting on the bed, blindfolded, cuffed, and collared. Wanted to go over a couple of ground rules I negotiated with him.”

  “Sure.”

  “No names. Well, except for me, because you all know who the fuck I am. We’ll call him boy for the weekend, and he’ll call you Sir. The triplets are One, Two, and Three.”

  Boyd arched an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?’

  “You want to call them Moe, Larry, and Curley, and have everyone cracking up?”

  Boyd rolled his eyes but waved for Kent to continue.

  “He’s going to always be blindfolded while outside the back bedroom. Inside, he can either be blindfolded, or you can be hooded, but he doesn’t want to see anyone’s faces. When he leaves, it’ll be either after you all have gone, or before you do, but so he can’t see you.”

  That was a little…obsessive. Or excessive. Or…both. “Why?”

  Kent shrugged. “I look like a shrink? He wants to feel submissive and helpless, and what better way to do it?”

  “That’s starting to feel like do-me-sub territory there, and that’s not something I’m into.”

  “I’m summarizing. You talk to him once he’s all yours, and you waste your time psychoanalyzing him instead of beating and fucking him, and get back to me.”

  “So much for you getting to watch me fuck him.”

  Kent shrugged. “I got three cuties to keep me busy today. I can deal.”

  Boyd ignored Kent’s snark. “What else?”

  “Standard limits. No marks he can’t hide for work, nothing permanent. No scat or piss. Red is his safeword, and he knows he can use it and it won’t stop the weekend, just that particular activity. You’re the only one who will actually fuck him tonight, but he’ll be, heh, used in other ways by all of us. The triplets will be able to suck him, but they are under orders not to make him come. I’m leaving that up to you. Those last two are my rules, and he’s agreed to them. I figured you’d want that honor.” He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  “I still need to negotiate play with him. Especially if he’s that new.”

  “I know, and I told him that. But you can negotiate with him blindfolded, can’t you?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. I’ll need his name and number though, so I can check up on him later.”

  “Nope.”

  He’d had about enough of this. “No? I thought you were setting us up?”

  Kent smiled. “I’m going to have him back next Saturday, unmasked, with you here. I’ll ‘introduce’ you two then. I’ve already been talking you up to him like crazy. He seriously does not want to know who did what, and he doesn’t know you’re the guy I’m going to introduce him to next Saturday.”

  “How am I supposed to check up on him?”

  “I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” He pointed to himself. “Not a Dom, but also not an idiot. I warned him if he has a problem, I will be giving you his number. Don’t worry.”

  That only slightly reassured Boyd. “He gets no alcohol this weekend. Hard limit. He might be subspacey already, if he’s blindfolded. Especially a guy that inexperienced. Don’t need him impaired.”

  Kent nodded. “That’s fair. I’ll tell him.”

  “Tops get safeword rights, too,” Boyd said. “I will stop everything if I think he’s in trouble in some way, or if I’m not into it.”

  “I already warned him that was a possibility, yes. And you’re in charge of directing the group activities with him. He knows all that.”

  At least Kent had thought ahead somewhat. That reassured Boyd a little. “Where are the other guys?”

  “TV room. Come on.”

  One of the guys—dubbed One, ironically—Boyd had seen at last Saturday’s party. Two and Three, Boyd had never met before. One was tallest, Two the middle, and Three the shortest. They were all dressed. After the introductions, and Kent going over the rules and tentative schedule of events—they would grill steaks around eight, but Kent had put out munchies for them—Kent went to fetch the guy from the back bedroom.

  Boyd stood off to the side when Kent brought the guy in and paid close attention to the man’s body language. Despite Boyd’s slight unease over the arrangement, his cock stood up and cheered and wanted to give Kent a high-five.

  The boy—metaphorically speaking—was gorgeous. Trim and slim, slightly more defined muscles on him than a twink, but with a subtle softness that maybe spoke to an active lifestyle, but not gym-centric. He looked vaguely familiar, but then again, a lot of guys did when naked.

  Boyd stepped forward first and circled the boy, where Kent had left him standing. Everyone remained quiet, and the sound of his boots on the tile could be plainly heard. Boy wore the same collar and cuffs Boyd had used on Paul last weekend. Dark hair, black, on his head, but he was clean-shaven and had also shaved his chest, back, bush, and balls, or Kent had done it for him.

  Not only was he wearing a wide blindfold that Boyd knew completely blocked his vision, but Kent had also tied a black shemagh around and over the top of it, which further obscured his face. It also covered most of the top of his head, and Kent had wrapped the ends around the blindfold’s strap before tying it in place, to help keep it from moving and to cover even more area for extra insurance around the outer edges of the blindfold in case it slipped.

  Boyd suspected Kent had opted not to use a hood because boy was either claustrophobic, or Kent didn’t want to get one all spooged up with boy about to have his face fucked by all five of them. The shemagh and blindfold would be fast and easy to remove, especially by boy, as well as easy to wash.

  Boyd nodded to Kent. “Boy,” Kent said, “say hello to your Sir for the weekend.”

  The guy’s voice sounded so soft Boyd could barely hear him. “Hello, Sir.”

  He wouldn’t make him repeat it. Not right now. He sounded nervous-scared, and it made Boyd’s cock even harder.

  Boyd was fairly certain he could make boy find his voice in other ways soon enough. “Hello, boy. You ready to play this weekend?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And say hello to One, Two, and Three,” Kent said.

  The guy did, and the other three men introduced themselves by their monikers.

  Kent smiled. “I turn him over to you, Sir.”

  After signaling to the others with a finger to his lips for them to remain silent, Boyd stepped directly in front of boy, inches away, and waited. He knew he stood close enough the man would feel the heat from his body and start to hear the way ambient sounds changed based on where Boyd stood in relation to him.

  Sure enough, after a few seconds, boy started leaning toward him a little. Boyd reached up and gently cupped the man’s chin. Only the very briefest of resistance before boy relaxed. He stood around five seven, and his semi-hard cock, a solid seven inches or so, twitched and finished inflating while Boyd held his chin.

  Boyd dropped his voice, really starting to get into the game. “I hear you’re looking to get a few cherries popped this weekend, boy.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Kent told me your limits. Any you wish to add?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “We will be negotiating again when we take it private and before I get sadistic on you. I need to know you’re consenting.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Boyd released his chin and took boy’s left hand in his right. “Kneel, boy.”

  He did, putting his mouth exactly at Boyd’s cock.

  Perfect.

  Boyd released his hand and grabbed boy’s head, pressing his lips against his denim-clad bulge so he could feel it. “Why the blindfold, boy?”

  Fuck Kent, he wanted to know now. He didn’t like not knowing if there were emotional landmines he might trip over.

  Boyd let boy turn his face so his cheek was pressed against his bulge and boy could answer. “B-because I have trouble turning off my brain, Sir. If I can’t see, it will force me to focus
on what I hear and feel instead of everything else. I…I need a forced mental vacation, Sir. It’s been a rough few months, and I need a…”

  He seemed to be looking for the word.

  “A reset, boy?”

  He nodded as much as he could with Boyd holding his face pressed against his crotch. “Yes, Sir. That’s a good word. A hard reset.”

  Behind boy and a few feet away, Kent smirked and arched an eyebrow at Boyd, but he ignored him.

  “Why do you need that? What happened? Shortest version possible, pick your words carefully. Ten words or less.”

  Boy seemed to need a moment. “Family stress, long-distance move, new job.”

  Boyd tenderly stroked his hair, scratching his scalp. “Good boy,” he murmured, feeling relieved. Those were all huge stressors on a person. He could understand the need for a mental break under those conditions.

  A distraction. “I’m going to ask a lot of you while we’re together. Are you prepared to give it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Excellent.” He nudged boy’s naked left knee with the toe of his right boot. “Bend down and kiss the tops of my boots, boy.”

  Boyd’s cock was trying to figure out how to burst free of its denim prison as boy put his hands out to find Boyd’s feet, and then scooted back enough he could lean in and press long, tender kisses to the tops of his boots.

  Fuuuuuck me.

  “Excellent. Now take them off me, and my socks.”

  Working strictly by feel, especially when you didn’t know what was going on, could be tricky. Boy seemed game, however, and ran his hands over first his right boot, helping pull it and his sock off, even remembering to tuck the sock inside the boot, and then his left.

  Boyd set them to the side. “Stand up and undress me. Shirt first.”

  Boy reached out to find Boyd’s legs and ran his hands up the sides of his jeans as he stood, felt his belt, and up. Then around to the back of his shirt and down again to tug his shirttails free before his hands returned to Boyd’s front and followed the line of buttons up to start unbuttoning them. Boyd held his arms out so boy could get the shirt off him and took it from him to toss it on the couch.