by RGAlexander
His baby brother had been the only one who wasn’t surprised when Owen moved in with Jeremy. “Owen was never satisfied, no matter how many women he went through. And he spent all his free time at Jeremy’s house. There were a million clues.”
“I didn’t see it.” His brother James had shaken his head. “Honestly, I thought he might have had a sex addiction, like the guy on that cable show. Seamus thought the same thing.”
“I didn’t care yesterday and I don’t care today.” Solomon frowned at his younger brothers. “He’s family and he’s happy. Move on.”
Wyatt shrugged. “You may not care, but I’m fascinated. I thought the Quarterback was one hundred percent straight. Jeremy must be truly talented.”
“No man is one hundred percent straight,” Rory informed his brothers. “That’s a fact.”
“That’s your dream, Rory,” Noah had laughed. “Stop projecting.”
“That’s my reality. I’m just waiting for everyone else to catch up.”
Pushing open the bathroom door, Brady shared a quick, awkward glance with a bearded hipster in a bow tie washing his hands. Then he looked at himself in the mirror. He could use a little of Rory’s confidence about now. This was the first job he’d ever had that was all about being attractive—in this case specifically to Cal Grimes. It was disconcerting, and it made him think about himself in an entirely new and uncomfortable way.
He genuinely didn’t get Cal’s interest—well, except for the physical desire, but he was working a lot harder than he had to if sex was all he wanted. Cal wasn’t bad to look at and he had a good job. Half the bar would probably be up for a quickie in the parking lot if he asked them.
But he’d set his sights on Brady, who didn’t mingle, didn’t enjoy talking politics, and who’d rather grab a cheeseburger and watch a baseball game than dress up to eat a plate of nothing that cost more than his monthly bills. What was it the lusty Cal saw that he liked?
Whatever it is, Ken sees it too.
Brady took a closer look. He had blues eyes, the same as pretty much everyone in his family. He’d gotten the auburn hair from his mother, a strong jawline from Sol, and his maternal grandfather had given him his oversized build. He had a harder look than his younger brothers, but when he laughed he sounded just like Noah.
It was strange, but that was always how he’d seen himself—as pieces of other people. A Finn. One of Sol’s boys. A Marine. But now he was trying to see himself without them. To see himself through another man’s eyes. Just Brady. He still didn’t think he was handsome in the ordinary sense, but he supposed he wasn’t bad for bait. His reflection sent him a rueful grin.
Anyway, he supposed as long as Cal liked his looks and got him in front of the people they were looking for before spiking his drink and dragging him to bed, he was doing the job Ken needed.
He’d much rather be doing something else. Someone else. He tapped his tiny earpiece impatiently when bowtie guy walked back out into the bar. Why had Ken sent him to the bathroom?
A stall opened and Brady swore in surprise when Ken dragged him in and closed and locked the door behind him. “What the fuck? I thought you were listening from the coffee shop across the street.”
“Don’t talk,” Ken ordered in a harsh whisper. “We won’t be alone for long and I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m ok—” Talented lips stole his breath, opening his mouth so Ken’s tongue could tangle with Brady’s. God, yes. Too long. How had he stayed away so long?
He leaned back against the door when he felt his knees weaken, and Ken followed, his fingers digging into Brady’s scalp and pulling his head down for more.
More. He would never get enough of Ken’s mouth. He wanted it on him everywhere. His hands curved around the cheeks of Ken’s firm ass and squeezed, dragging him closer.
More.
Ken lifted his mouth enough to bite down sharply on Brady’s lower lip. A rumbling growl escaped his throat and Ken smiled. “There he is. There’s my beast. That little weasel doesn’t get to touch you.”
“Never,” Brady growled again.
Ken’s hand pressed between their bodies and Brady felt him undoing the buttons of his jeans. “Tanaka…”
“Finn,” Ken echoed teasingly. “Just a taste, that’s all. To keep you on your toes and clear all that flattery out of your head.”
Strong, graceful fingers wrapped around his hard shaft and he moaned raggedly. “Here? In the fucking men’s room of a gay bar?”
Ken snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before. Never met a sexy stranger in a bar and ended up just like this, getting hard on the idea that someone could walk in and hear your greedy moans.”
“Never,” Brady moaned.
Ken’s gaze narrowed in surprise, his fingers tightening around Brady’s erection as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re kidding me. What are you, a boy scout? How can you have a body like this and not want to use it?” Ken stroked him once and licked his lips when Brady gasped. “Your body needs to be used. This hard cock is begging for it. No wonder he wants it.”
“We made this date because he does,” Brady reminded him, panting. “You told me to say yes.”
Ken stroked his erection again and Brady’s hips pumped forward helplessly. “Yes to drinks and getting information. Yes to another date where you might be introduced to his special friends. But you can’t let him think he’ll be getting this. Tonight or any other night.”
“Dating isn’t a skill I trained for, Tanaka. I’m—oh fuck—I’m doing the best I can.”
“Stop. He can’t handle it and I don’t want to lose our only contact by breaking his arms when he tries to touch you.”
Brady snarled and in two lightning-fast moves had Ken’s cheek pressed against the stall door and his erection pressed firmly against his back. “You think you can handle me?”
Ken’s moan was shameless. “You know I can. And you already know how good it feels.”
Brady counted to ten and prayed for control. Then he counted a little more, unable to stop thinking about Ken sucking his cock in the bathroom. He wanted it. Was desperate for it. But they couldn’t. “I have to go back out there and finish this date. And even though he treats me like a prostitute who wants to go legit and star in a porno, I’m not going to prove him right and get off in a public restroom while he pays for my drinks. I’m not that guy.”
“You’re having water.”
“Not the point.” Brady rocked against him once. Twice. “We can’t do this, Tanaka, and you know it. I’m on the job you asked me to do. Just the job. That’s it. That’s all this is.” He moved away with a wince and looked down at his steel-hard erection. “Now I have to think about deconstructed meatloaf so I can button my jeans back up. I think we can both agree that the last thing I need is Cal Grimes believing he turns me on. And then I have to find a way to introduce my favorite topic into the conversation, because of course part of the job is to make him think I could be interested in kink, since Burke’s notes were painfully clear on that point.”
He forced himself back into his pants and swore. “This might be the worst date I could ever imagine pretending to be on. I’m so glad I took this job.”
“Brady?” Ken sounded thoughtful.
“What?” Despite everything he’d just said, if Ken asked to touch him again, Brady would give in.
“He knows you were at Burke’s party before the arrest. Stephen got a lot of credit for that, so you need to prove you’re serious about your interest. Just tell him you were too overwhelmed to know anything else was going on. Tell him you never thought you would like kink until you saw a demonstration that intrigued you. Tell him you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since then. That you want it, but you’re afraid of wanting it at the same time because it’s either too dangerous, or the fantasy will end up being better than the reality.”
Brady stepped away and studied Ken’s profile. He might as well have been reading his mind becau
se he’d just described Brady’s feelings—not about kink—about Ken. “That sounds good. Thanks.”
He adjusted his clothes as best as he could and reached around Ken to open the door. “Are you going to stick around in case I actually do get roofied?”
Ken looked into his eyes and Brady swore his damn heart stuttered. “I’m not going anywhere, Finn. We’re a team.”
Chapter Four
Brady left the office he’d been crashing in wearing only sweatpants and sneakers to head down to the gym. His body was buzzing with excess energy and irritation and he needed to let off some steam. Maybe lift some weights or let his frustrations out on Ken’s punching bag.
He paused at the door to the loft and lifted his fist, stopping before he could knock. That was a bad idea. Brady wouldn’t exactly be great company right now. He hadn’t been since that night at Tango’s, and Ken Tanaka was the reason why.
While he’d secretly hoped Ken would take the lead again when they got home and kiss him until he forgot his name, a part of him had been glad to get the space he’d asked for. Ken hadn’t even argued when Brady insisted on sleeping in the office, unwilling to spend the night in the loft’s large bed, wishing he wasn’t alone. But it quickly became clear the next day that space was all he was going to get from now on. That Ken was fine with focusing on “just the job.”
Brady wasn’t handling it as well.
Ken had done this after the reception too. No calls or texts. No word for over a month. Only now Brady was living with him. Eating with him. Planning his next date with Cal or trying to ignore Ken’s tactical advice when he led a military campaign on an alien world.
Owen would have been jealous of Ken’s game collection. Brady was jealous of his poker face.
It didn’t seem fair that he’d been suffering with the pain of a near constant erection while Ken seemed as serene and unaffected as ever. It was as if their groping session in the men’s room never happened. As if he didn’t want what Brady did every time they were in the same room.
Was it his damn club training? Had he learned how to flip a switch and turn off his desire? Maybe he should take that class. It had been a week, and between the lack of sleep and his severe case of blue balls, Brady wasn’t sure he was going to survive. The man was making him crazy.
He’s giving you what you asked for.
Well, he didn’t have to make it look so fucking easy.
It didn’t help that the other man in his life had gone around the bend in the other direction. Three dates in and Cal was on his way to graduating from obsessed to insane.
He called Brady throughout the day just to say hello, and called every night to see if he’d changed his mind about coming over to his house to spend the night. Ken hadn’t mentioned sex again but Cal couldn’t seem to stop. He begged for Brady’s measurements or a picture of him naked, followed him to the bathroom every time they were out just to catch a glimpse. Once, in the middle of a boring conversation about poll numbers that Brady was only half paying attention to, he realized too late that Cal had been doing more than talking on the other end of the line. And then he’d sent a picture of the outcome.
Brady grimaced. You’d think someone neck deep in politics would have learned the value of discretion. Unfortunately for him, Cal had missed that class because he was too busy jacking off. Brady swore if the man sent him one more picture of his penis, one more Vine of him sucking on popsicles, or one more link to a video of someone in a kink club being rogered and dragged around in a collar, he was going to tell Ken he quit and use the rest of his savings on a hypnotherapist. He didn’t necessarily believe that he could be hypnotized, but he’d seen things he didn’t want to remember and was willing to give it a try.
Unfortunately he couldn’t quit because Ken’s plan was working. Brady’s hints about Burke’s weekend love fest, his lies about wanting to experiment with kink—it all worked. When Cal mentioned he had important friends who threw regular parties—exclusive parties—in a private club, Ken was sure they’d hit the jackpot.
Brady let Cal believe he would be “grateful” to go. It made him ill, but he didn’t want to take the chance he’d change his mind. After this party, his part would be over. He wouldn’t have to put any of them through this torture anymore. Brady didn’t deserve it. And Cal, no matter how he behaved, didn’t deserve to be teased. He just hoped the man they were looking for was there.
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than go to another elite BDSM gangbang, this time on Clingy Cal’s arm. But in two days that was exactly what he was going to do, because no matter how tense and unsettled things felt between them, this was important to Ken.
Brady got the feeling Ken knew the guy they were trying to find. That they were close and that the cross he’d been wearing around his neck was somehow connected. Had one of his lovers gotten caught up with this crowd of Burke doppelgängers Ken had described?
He wished Ken would tell him. His living space might be like an open book but Tanaka was still a mystery. Who did he care about? What did he do when he wasn’t playing hero or tying someone up in knots?
Brady got to the second floor, opened the stairwell door and stopped when he realized Ken was already in the gym. And he wasn’t alone.
“It’s the wrist flick I can’t get the hang of,” the man sighed, looking down at the leather whip dangling from his fingers. “I can pick a lock in under a minute but I can’t manage this damn flick.”
Brady narrowed his eyes on the visitor in his late thirties. He was wearing a wrinkled shirt and jeans that were faded from use, not design. His forearms were covered in old-school tattoos and his dark blond hair was a little too long and thoughtlessly mussed, as if he’d brushed it with his fingers. His beard however, was a little too neatly trimmed to match the transient vibe he’d been going for.
The man stilled and turned his head to meet Brady’s gaze head on. His eyes were a soul-piercing green and highly intelligent. He was handsome beneath the mess, Brady knew. Gorgeous really, but you wouldn’t see it unless you gave him a second look. It was his version of camouflage.
“Hey, Trick.”
“Brady. I didn’t know you were staying with Tanaka.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Yeah. I did.”
Tristan “Trick” Dunham was an old friend from Stephen Finn’s misspent youth. He’d done some time, but he’d used it wisely, getting a degree and doing his best to stay out of trouble. He was a private detective now, and loving every minute of it. Not too long ago, when Jennifer Finn was sowing her oats at that double-damned BDSM club everyone Brady knew was a member of, Stephen had hired Trick to tail her. Just to keep her safe.
Trick had loved his new assignment a little too much. He’d been hanging around and keeping an eye on Jen ever since, but Brady was willing to bet he no longer reported his actions to Stephen.
“Whip, eh?”
Trick winked at him, then shrugged. “It was a thought, but I’m more of a traditionalist. There’s nothing this baby can do that a strong, willing hand can’t do better.”
Ken moved closer and Brady frowned when he barely acknowledged his presence. “I’d disagree, but the way you hold my whip makes me nervous.”
“Yeah, Trick. I think the last thing you want to do is hurt someone.” If he’d been thinking about using that on his cousin, there might be a problem. “Speaking of mistakes, taking any classes at the college this semester, old man?”
Trick nodded, grinning at the threat beneath the question. “Auditing a few. And education is never a mistake, Marine. In fact, I’m learning a lot about dysfunctional family dynamics this go-round, so I’m here if you ever need to talk about your childhood. The middle son who kept growing so he would be seen, etcetera.”
Brady’s fists clenched and Ken patted Trick on the shoulder in a way that was clearly meant to end the conversation. “I appreciate your help, Trick. And you can take the whip if you want, but don’t use it until you can come bac
k here and give me a demonstration of your skill.”
Trick laughed, handing it back to Ken instead. “You lifestylers have so many rules, you never have time for fun.” He nodded to Brady. “He knows I’m right, don’t you, big guy? He’s been here a week or so, right? Big boy doesn’t look like he’s had any fun at all. Have you let Tanaka do his Shibari voodoo on you yet? I hear it’s relaxing.”
“Brady’s not into kink, Trick. Which you know.” Now Ken’s voice held the warning.
Trick was oblivious. “Neither am I, in the strictest sense. You’ll never see me in leather and latex begging for my turn on the pain machine. The things I enjoy are meant for private parties and take a lot longer than a few hours every Thursday night. In my opinion, dirty is good, but kinky is complicated. Club kink, at any rate.”
He looked between Brady and Ken and shook his head, his knowing smile begging to be knocked off. “I can feel a lot of sexual tension in this room. Unfortunately it’s not directed at me so I think it’s time for me to leave. We’ll talk later. Try not to have any fun until you can give me a demonstration. I do like to watch, and fair is fair.”
Brady watched him disappear, feeling the tic pulsing at his temple. He’d already been in a bad mood, but Trick had managed to make it worse. He didn’t want to think about Jen getting mixed up with someone like him. She was back on track, back in school and taking a break from the experimenting that had led to her brush with the law. Trick wasn’t a criminal, but he wasn’t someone to take lightly. And he wasn’t good enough for Little Finn. But then, most of the family was in agreement that no one was.
Ken stepped in front of him and laid a hand on his arm. “You know he’s all talk. He likes yanking your chain, that’s all.”
The touch of his fingers sent a pulse of current up Brady’s spine. He took a step away to break the contact. “Everyone seems to enjoy that lately. Why was he here?”
Ken hesitated, then grabbed a water bottle and took a long drink, which was when Brady noticed the sheen that still covered his chest. He’d been working out. Trick must have interrupted him.
