Rick: (Joey - Part 2)

by Angelique Jurd

  Rick

  (Joey – Part 2)

  by

  Angelique Jurd

  Rick Copyright © 2019 by Angelique Jurd. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by May Dawney Designs - https://covers.maydawney.com/

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Angelique Jurd

  Visit my website at www.angeliquejurd.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Published by

  Small Black Cat Media

  2019

  PRELUDE

  “Rick, if you fuck this up, I will kill you myself.”

  Rick raises an eyebrow. “Don’t hold back, Charlie. Tell me how you really feel.”

  Pointing a perfectly manicured fingernail at him, she leans forward. “I’m serious. Don’t be an asshole.”

  For God’s sake! Rick throws his hands in the air, narrowly missing the waitress serving their coffee, and glares at Charlotte. Just because her husband likes her to be in charge doesn’t mean Rick does.

  “I'm not being an asshole.” He sips his coffee. “In fact, I am being the very opposite of an asshole, I’ll have you know. I’m being patient and caring and giving him as much space and time as he needs.”

  Charlotte slams her coffee cup down hard enough to speckle the tablecloth with coffee.

  “Is that what he needs? Does he need you to step back and give him space and time or does he need you do what you said you would?”

  Rick opens his mouth. Snaps it shut again. Scratches his fingers through his beard and sighs.

  "Well... I…"

  The look on Charlotte’s face suggests he’s a moron, but it’s all very well for her – she’s in a normal relationship. He snorts at that. After all, the media wouldn’t use the world normal if they found out that the District Attorney is a sub who kneels at his wife’s feet and enjoys being flogged regularly. Or that behind his suits in the closet is a wide variety of shorts, harnesses and playthings.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?’ Exasperation flashes in Charlotte's eyes and Rick recoils. At the next table a businessman frowns in their direction and Rick resists the urge to flip him off. “God, I think I’m going to talk to some of the boys at the club about false advertising. They’re always going on about what a fantastic Dom you are. How you know exactly what to do. And here you are, bleating to me about needing the most obvious solution in the world. Jesus, I think Jen would know what to do and God knows there’s no kink genes in that body.”

  “Joey doesn't need a Dom right now. Joey needs...” Rick's voice trails off as he signals the waitress for the bill. Figuring out what Joey needs.

  “Joey needs you to take care of him. You giving him all this space and time is not how you do that.” She holds her hand up to forestall his protest. “I know, he went through shit and that that other asshole beat him so far into submission he may never recover, and that you want to deal with that but it needs to wait. Joey needs you to take control. Come on, you know this. Don’t fucking tell me you don’t. He’s not exactly your first boy.”

  Rick ignores the squeak from the waitress and hands her his credit card. When she disappears he rubs his eyes and sighs.

  “Not like Joey I haven’t. There’s never been anyone like him.”

  Charlotte freezes, hand hovering in mid-air. “Holy shit." Amused wonder replaces the frustration in her voice. Rick returns her grin with a scowl. “The mighty Rick Southwell has fallen. Never thought I'd see the day.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You’ve fallen in love with him.”

  “Yell it a little louder, maybe we can actually give the poor girl serving us a complete breakdown.”

  “Oh, like you care what people think.” Charlotte leans over and squeezes his hand. “You know, being in love isn't a bad thing."

  "Look what it got Joey last time."

  There it is. What if he can't be everything Joey needs? What if he can't fix him?

  "You don't have to fix him. You just have to love him.”

  She’s right. He knows she’s right. It’s just… there’s so much at stake now. Charlotte squeezes his hand.

  “You’ve got this Ricky. You just have to get your shit together.”

  ♦♦♦

  Rick

  Rick holds the old overcoat up, pinched between two fingers, grimaces, and turns to look for an assistant. A young man with bleached blond hair, a diamond chip in his ear, and an invisible one on his shoulder, if the looks he's giving Rick are anything to go by, approaches.

  "Is there a problem sir?"

  "Can you do something with this?" Rick holds the overcoat out. It must have been beige once, but now it's the color of a dirty sidewalk even though he knows for a fact it has been washed. Has seen it with his own eyes. The collar is frayed and there are signs it has been mended more than once. Joey doesn't have much in the way of clothes, but this thing is by far the most depressing item Rick has ever laid eyes on. The assistant looks as though he'd like to refuse but takes it and, holding it at arm's length, sighs.

  "I assume you mean put it in the dumpster, sir?" Without waiting for a reply, he leaves the fitting area.

  "Hey! What are you doing with my coat?" Joey is in front of one of the mirrors in a bamboo colored linen suit. Two men with little felt tomatoes studded with pins strapped to their wrists and measuring tapes hanging around their necks fuss over him, tucking bits of fabric here, pinning hems there. Rick meets his eyes in the mirror's reflection and grins.

  "We'll get you another coat. One that doesn't look like it had a run in with Thanos." They'd watched Avengers: Infinity War again the night before because it's Joey's favorite movie at the moment. Before Joey was in his life, Friday night would have found Rick out to dinner with friends or at the club with a Boy. Not on the sofa while Joey reads his Kindle, or they watch Robert Downey Jnr save the world again. Personally, Rick prefers Captain America and Spiderman and was quietly amused by Joey's muttered "of course you do". Joey, he sees, is still glaring at him in the mirror. He strolls over and admires the suit Joey's pinned into. "That style and fabric work really well on you. You look good."

  "You're changing the subject."

  "Yes, I am. That coat has passed its use by date, baby."

  The tailors stand back, eyes fixed expectantly on Rick. Nodding in approval, he instructs them to make the same in two other colors – rust and navy – and waits while they ease the garments off Joey. When he's left standing in his shorts and socks, Rick hands him his jeans.

  "I still don't think there's anything wrong with the clothes I have." Joey pulls them on and buckles his belt.

  "Nothing right with them either." Rick holds up the pale blue button down while Joey slides his arms into the sleeves. "Besides, let me spoil you a little. I like dressing you." He reaches around to do up the buttons, eyes meeting Joey's in the mirror.

  "I think you only want to dress me so you can undress me." Joey's eyes sparkle and a small smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

  "Oh – ho, someone's feeling sassy today."

  A low cough from the doorway interrupts them. Diamond Chip is back, glowering at Rick again. He takes a deep breath through his nose. This is the reason he'd been tiring of the club and even dating in general before m
eeting Joey. These young guys who think they are better than anyone else, who want to say they'd got their kink on with a Daddy, be it leather, Dom, or otherwise. They're not really interested though. Not in a lifestyle choice and not in having someone care for them and definitely not in having someone take charge of them. One night over drinks Charlotte and Ian had both berated him for not giving any of them a chance to show they were different but in his experience, they weren't. Besides what would they know? They'd both got lucky. They'd found what they needed. Carter and Charlotte have been together since college and Ian and Marco-also-known-as-Maisie's mutual adoration has become legendary in their circle.

  After several encounters with the likes of Diamond Chip – men who only saw him as a way to get shiny baubles, fancy meals, and an explosive orgasm - Rick gave up. If it was only about sex, he could get that from any number of the club regulars. At least everyone was honest that the post coital cuddle meant nothing.

  "Can I get you anything else, sir?" Diamond Chip asks, gaze wandering over Joey with undisguised lust. "Anything at all."

  "Yes, I'd like an espresso please. Joey? Hot chocolate?"

  "Oh…uh…"

  "That's a yes. We'll be looking at underwear and casual wear next, you'll find us there." Taking Joey's hand, he doesn't bother waiting for a response. As they cross the floor toward the underwear department Joey shakes his head.

  "That was kind of rude."

  "No. That was me reminding him that I'm in charge." Rick glances sideways at Joey in time to catch another head shake. He sighs; Joey's not entirely wrong. He’s behaving like an old grump. The guy is, after all, just doing his job and flirting is part of that job. Rick would just prefer it wasn’t with Joey.

  "Can you try to be less growly about it?"

  Rick grins and pulls Joey to his side. Pitches his voice lower. "But you like it when I get growly."

  Joey just rolls his eyes in reply. Smirking, Rick leads him to the underwear department. They stop in front of a selection of boxer shorts in varying colors.

  "I think these will work," he says peering at the sizes. "What do you think?"

  Ten minutes later they've selected briefs, shorts, socks, and undershirts. Diamond Chip arrives with their drinks and gives a startled smile when Joey thanks him before Rick thanks him politely and asks him to direct them to the casual wear.

  Surrounded by racks of t-shirts, polo shirts, casual button downs, chinos and jeans, a bright orange shirt catches Rick's eye.

  "What do you think of this one?"

  Joey shrugs; runs his finger down the fabric. "It's okay."

  "That's the face you gave me when I ordered octopus the other night. What's wrong?"

  "Octopus are really intelligent. You shouldn't eat them." Joey shrugs again. "I don't know... it's just… it's okay. We can get this one"

  Rick frowns at the answer. It's almost as if Joey's hiding. Trying to figure out why, Rick picks up the shirt and immediately gives himself a mental slap for being every kind of idiot. Grabs his phone and sends a text; a few seconds later he gets a reply and offers a triumphant grin to Joey.

  "Come on, let's pay the bill and head to the next place."

  He beckons Diamond Chip and offers him a smile– he may as well win some extra points if he can, in case what he's planning backfires and bites him on the ass. After paying, adding in a reasonable tip, he hands Diamond Chip his empty coffee cup and drags Joey, still confused from the store.

  "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see."

  "Huh?"

  Rick squeezes his hand and grins. “You’ll see.”

  ♦♦♦

  Joey

  Shopping with Rick is nothing like shopping with Blake.

  Shopping with Blake was, on a good day, nerve wracking. Blake would bark orders at tailors and shop assistants, peering at them with disdain while they scurried to do his bidding. Shivering in boxer shorts, Joey would stand wherever Blake directed. Obedient. Dutiful. Silent. Joey never had any say in the clothing selected and had learned quickly not to complain about the fabric, cut, or color. Those were the good days.

  Bad days saw him in sheer briefs tight over his cock cage, shivering while Blake berated and belittled everyone around them, his eyes fever bright in the glow of the dressing rooms. On those days, no matter how obedient, dutiful, or silent he was, Joey knew there would be pain and humiliation sooner or later.

  There were always more bad days than there were good.

  Rick is different. Rick takes charge but doesn’t yell. Directs what is happening with the precision of a ballet choreographer, waving away fabric or styles while whispering in Joey’s ear.

  “No, too heavy. You need light fabrics that drape and show off that body.” Quick, tender kiss behind Joey’s ear. “Not black. Charcoal maybe. Rust works with those eyes.”

  Then he’ll step away to let the assistants do what needs to be done, giving Joey’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Joey’s not cold, his underwear is modest and comfortable, and even though he’s in charge, Rick keeps checking with him that he’s okay with his choices. Best of all, there’s no hateful cock cage.

  None of which prepares Joey for the store they walk into. Instead of the classic subtlety of the previous store, everything in here is loud. The colors, the music, the shoppers - even the sales assistants. A young woman with bright blue hair yells a greeting from behind a sign she’s trying to attach to the wall. “Hi guys. How can we help you today?”

  Joey’s eyes widen when Rick answers that they’re fine, but they’ll let her know if they need her, then begins picking through a rack of t-shirts. The store reminds him of the places he used to shop in before he met Blake, but he can’t imagine Rick being in one. Ever. He’s still puzzling over it when Rick’s voice, low pitched and commanding, slices through his thoughts.

  “Joey!”

  He jerks his head up. “Yes?”

  Rick is holding up a navy t-shirt with Iron Man on it. “This one or do you want a different color?”

  Wait? Is he saying he can have the t-shirt? An Iron Man shirt? Blake would never - Rick is not Blake, he tells himself.

  “Navy's okay.” Joey watches as Rick tosses the shirt over his shoulder and turns to another rack; he holds up a soft gray shirt with Mickey Mouse on it. Joey nods.

  “Words, baby. Words are good,” Rick mutters as he moves toward the back of the store. Trailing behind him Joey is still trying to understand what exactly is happening and why on earth they are now in the women’s section. One by one, Rick pulls out t-shirts, looks them over and pushes them back, until with a satisfied grin he holds a pale pink shirt up. On the front is the rabbit from Bambi. He holds it up against Joey, seemingly unaware of the teenagers in the corner who are watching them with increasing interest. “I think you need a size up from this one.”

  One of the girls springs forward, yanks a shirt from the rack, and holds it out.

  “These are the extra-long ones.” Braces glint under the shop lighting when she offers them a shy smile.

  “Thank you.” Rick holds the larger shirt up and nods his approval. “What else have they got?”

  “There’s a Winnie-the-Pooh one and a really cool one with Marie from The Aristocats.” She glances up at Joey. “If you like cats.”

  “I like cats,” he croaks.

  By the time they leave, the girls have helped them select half a dozen t-shirts, two hoodies, and a denim jacket with the Avengers logo on the back. When Rick tries to offer them some money to thank them for their help, they all giggle and refuse. The girl with the braces darts a quick look at Joey then back to Rick.

  “Your boyfriend’s really cute.”

  “That’s what I keep telling him.” Rick winks at her. “Thanks for your help, ladies.”

  Dazed and a little light-headed, Joey lets himself be guided from the store. At the door, he turns and gives a short wave to the girls who are still watching them. Blushes when they burst into high pitched giggles. This has been pos
sibly the most bizarre day of his life. He turns back to Rick with an embarrassed smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “For a few t-shirts? You’re welcome.”

  A kiss is pressed to his temple as he shakes his head.

  “You know what I mean.” Joey glances sideways at Rick. “Are you hungry yet? Will you let me buy you lunch?”

  “Lunch?”

  “Yes.” Joey lifts his chin. “It’s only fair. You’ve bought me clothes, I want to buy you food.”

  “And where would we be eating? Remember, pizza doesn’t count as food.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of pizza.” Joey bites his bottom lip to keep from smiling. He’s pretty sure Rick can guess what he does have in mind.

  “I see. And would you by any chance be thinking of a certain café that carries a salted caramel and chocolate ganache gateau?”

  Teeth still worrying at his lip, Joey grins and nods. Rick shakes his head, amusement flitting across his face.

  “You have the biggest sweet tooth of anyone I’ve ever met. Okay but we have to have something sane for dinner or I’m going to end up the size of a bus.” He checks his watch. “Come on then, let’s pump your blood sugar up.”

  ♦♦♦

  Rick

  As soon as the elevator doors close, Rick tugs Joey into his arms, thrilling at the soft sound Joey makes when their lips meet. Traces the outline of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, smiling at the faint taste of salted caramel and shivering when Joey twists his long, slender fingers into the fabric of his shirt. He deepens the kiss with gentle pressure, one hand on Joey’s neck as he slides the other down over his back to cup his ass to pull him closer. For the briefest moment, Joey stiffens at his touch then relaxes, meeting his tongue with his own, desire replacing reluctance.

  Even with the luxury of a private elevator, this is not the time or the place for more, not when he knows Maisie is in the kitchen cooking. Rick breaks the kiss, smiling at Joey’s small squeak of disappointment.