“I’m gay,” he breathed, his eyes dropping closed, tears squeezing out and rolling down his cheeks.
Doyle belatedly realized his response probably wasn’t the best professionally, but this was a fellow human being in pain. He pulled Mevi in for a hug as the man sobbed in his arms.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Doyle said, holding him, stroking his hair. “Let it out. It’s okay. I got you.”
“I’m gay,” he whispered again, sounding pained. “I’m going to be forty and I’m gay. Nobody knows. I used Bonnie to hide it all these years. She doesn’t even know. I lied to women I met and went home with, and didn’t even sleep with them, and…” His voice dissolved into more sobs.
A lot of puzzle pieces now clicked into place for Doyle. Song lyrics seen in a whole new light.
This man and his actions now seen in a whole new light.
And had Mevi not been able to admit this to him, it was almost guaranteed he’d go back to drinking at some point. Maybe Doyle now had a chance to break through and reach him.
When Mevi finally pulled himself together, he nodded, stepping back from Doyle’s embrace. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve…I mean it. No one knows but you.”
“I can call Tilly and cancel and we can go back to the apartment and talk.”
He shook his head. “No. I want to meet your friends.” He wiped at his eyes again. “If they’re open-minded, maybe that will help me.”
“You sure? She’d understand.”
“I’m sure.” He forced a smile. “Besides, I want to thank her for introducing you and Clark.”
Doyle wasn’t sure if Mevi was just trying to be brave, or if he really meant it. “Your turn.”
Mevi looked confused. “Huh?”
“I agreed to answer a question. Fair’s fair.”
Mevi’s face turned a shade of pink that made Doyle’s inner sadist giggle with glee. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to. You trust me. I want you to understand I have trust in you, too. Ask me anything. The question I suspect you really want to ask me, not something innocuous.”
Mevi’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Why do you have that bag of stuff? What does it mean?”
“I’ll consider that one question because they’re related. I’m kinky. I’m into BDSM. I’m a Dominant.”
Mevi finally looked up. “Like, for money?”
Doyle smiled. “That’s an extra question, but no. It’s part of what led to my divorce. My ex was a little kinky, but not to the level I was. I loved her, but it caused some invisible friction between us because I refused to force her and she knew I was holding back. She wanted kids and I didn’t. When I finally found the courage to admit to her that I was bi, simply because I was tired of keeping that secret, it was sort of the final straw. We divorced amicably. She used to let me play with others sometimes, if she knew the person. People who were masochists. But since I moved to LA I really can’t be involved in the lifestyle out there because of privacy for my clients. I can’t afford to be outed. So, this really is my job on the line by admitting all this to you.”
Mevi slowly nodded. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Doyle reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Now that we have that out in the open, if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to ask me. About being gay, or about this. I’m bi, but I might be able to answer some things. Landry is gay, and he’s very open to talking about sensitive topics. Feel free to ask him. Or, if you’d like, pass it to me and I’ll ask for you.”
For the first time since they’d met, Mevi actually looked…hopeful. “Really?”
“Really. They have a baby daughter, but I’m sure if she’s not in the room they’d be willing to talk.” Once he was sure Mevi was okay, Doyle headed back to his search for his swim trunks.
“Hey, Doyle?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
“Can…can we bring that bag back with us?”
Yellow warning lights flashed in Doyle’s mind. “Why?”
“Because I’m…curious.”
He carefully contemplated his answer before speaking it. “I can’t play with you. That would cross an ethical boundary.”
“I know. I…I have questions.”
He had told Mevi he could trust him. Answering questions wasn’t crossing a boundary, right?
And if it helped the man in his quest for sobriety…could he ethically deny Mevi this?
“Okay. I’ll bring it.”
“Thanks.”
Doyle found his swim trunks and grabbed his toybag on the way out. After getting the door rolled down and locking it, he hefted the bag and started back toward the elevator, Mevi trailing close behind.
He loaded the bag into the back hatch and as he closed the hatch he hoped he hadn’t just fucked up big time.
He also hoped he wasn’t doing this because now that he knew Mevi was gay, it meant his fantasies were far more realistic than he’d ever thought they could be.
And his cock was struggling to get hard over that.
That was definitely an ethical line he refused to cross.
Chapter Twelve
They stopped at a Publix on the way to Tilly’s. Doyle left Mevi in the car with it running for the AC, trusting the man wouldn’t run.
Not now.
While in the store, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Tate.
Awright, mate. Tell me you’re free. Please? I trust you. I don’t want anyone else near her. NAME your price!
It didn’t matter if it was a tempting offer or not.
He wouldn’t abandon a client.
Especially not Mevi.
And especially not now.
Sorry, can’t.
BOLLOCKS! Tell them to piss off, that you have a desperate man willing to pay you a million POUNDS to fly over!
Tate had a flair for the melodramatic sometimes.
I thought she was still in rehab?
She is but I want YOU already in place with her.
I can’t. I’ll let you know when my contract ends. If you still need me, we can discuss terms then.
He ignored Tate’s next text, shoving the phone into his pocket. If he let him, Tate would drag this out for hours, trying to wear him down like he was some studio executive or something.
He liked Tate, but he wouldn’t give in.
When they arrived at Tilly’s, he carried in the cherry pie and ice cream he’d brought. Tilly greeted them both with hugs and smiles, nothing in her demeanor to indicate the sadistically vicious Domme or tenacious production assistant she was.
And while he knew the significance of the fluorite pendant she wore around her neck, Mevi wouldn’t.
Doyle introduced him. “This is Mal Maynard,” he said. “Mal, Tilly Cardinal LaCroux.”
Landry appeared in the entry, their daughter in his arms. “Ah, Doyle.”
Mevi’s eyes widened. “You were with Doyle that night.”
Landry smiled. “Yes. Oh, Doyle, your car is safe in our parking garage at our condo out there. If you need to pick it up and we aren’t there, Leigh has the keys at the office. I can have her deliver them to our building’s front desk to hold for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Cris walked up. While he wore a bracelet that Doyle knew was the man’s day collar, nothing else would give away their kinky status to Mevi.
“Hey. Cris Guerrero. Nice to meet you, Mal.”
* * * *
Mevi actually liked being called Mal.
He liked even more how these people, who obviously knew who he was, were treating him like any other person.
As they made their way into the eat-in kitchen, where a table was set for dinner, he got a whiff of something delicious. “What’s for dinner?”
“Well, steaks on the grill,” Landry said, “but that’s one of our side dishes. Broccoli casserole.”
As they settled in and Tilly offered them non-alcoholic drink choices, Mevi realized this felt…
>
Average.
Not in a bad way, either.
“I know you guys know who I am, so if you want to ask anything, feel free.”
Tilly shrugged. “We figured you needed a break from your job.”
“And can I give you another hug?”
She glanced at Landry, looking a little confused, but she opened her arms to him. “Sure. Why?”
He hugged her, savoring the contact, glad to know he didn’t have to worry about paparazzi pics appearing and people speculating if she was a new love interest or crazy fan.
“Thank you for telling Clark about Doyle.”
She smiled as she stared at Doyle. “I’ve known D for years.” She playfully poked the man’s shoulder. “He’s a good guy. When Clark told me what he was looking for, I was hoping he was available. Even though he hasn’t been around lately. Rat bastard.”
“Language, love,” Landry lightly scolded.
Tilly clapped a hand over her mouth. “Whoops. KC’s going to be swearing up a storm by the time she’s two.” Tilly dropped her hand. “And no worries. You don’t need permissions to hug me.” She laughed. “I’m sure Lan and Cris won’t mind.”
“Permissions?”
“Yeah, because—hey, let’s get those steaks on.” She pivoted on her heel and rushed over to where the tray of them sat on the counter.
Landry and Cris stood frozen, as did Doyle.
Only KC seemed oblivious.
Then, it clicked.
He didn’t want to say it out loud in front of the baby, though.
“I think I need to go change KC,” Lan said.
“I’ll help you,” Cris volunteered.
But from the way Doyle started rubbing at his temples, Mevi knew it. Then, Doyle walked over and reached for KC.
“Lan,” he quietly said, sounding exhausted, “on the way here I had to stop by my storage unit and Mal noticed a certain bag of mine, and it ignited a…discussion. Where certain things were admitted to each other.”
Landry handed the baby over to him. “I didn’t tell Mal certain things about you three, except that you’re poly, but I did volunteer that you are open to discussing certain topics with Mal based on things he told me about himself. Things that aren’t my place to discuss. I’m giving you permission to tell him anything about me in the course of those discussions that might be pertinent to the discussion. Meanwhile, point me to her bedroom and I’ll change her for you.”
Doyle looked at Mevi. “I know and trust these three not to tell your secrets. Anything you want to reveal to them, even without an NDA, will be kept secret.”
Tilly nervously laughed. “Um, you’ll see her room. Down the hall. Door’s open, and everything’s on the changing table. Just leave her in a diaper. She’ll only get food on her clothes anyway.”
Doyle headed off with the baby while the other three stared at Mevi.
“Let’s take this out to the lanai,” Tilly offered, heading toward the sliders with the steaks.
Standing around the grill, Mevi quietly admitted to the three that he was gay, and that Doyle had admitted to him he was kinky.
Tilly and Cris looked at Landry, who chuckled.
“I suppose I am the designated Dom to take point?”
Relief flowed through Mevi, along with a million questions. “So…you three are kinky, too?”
“Yes.” Landry briefly explained their dynamic, which was even more confusing than their initial relationship seemed. “Are you simply curious about BDSM, or do you feel you might have more than cursory interest in it?”
“I…I don’t know.” He thought about the way Doyle sometimes said things that made Mevi hard. “I…I’d like to explore.”
“And you’re right next to a BDSM club, so that’s perfect,” Tilly noted.
“Huh?”
The three exchanged a glance. “Venture,” Tilly said. “It’s on the back side of the apartment. Didn’t D tell you that?”
“We literally haven’t talked much except at the storage unit.”
“Oh. Heh. Whoops. Yeah. Spoiler alert. Kel owns the whole complex.”
“Does he know the club’s there?”
She snorted. “He co-owns it with Der—”
“Tilly!” the other two men scolded.
She rolled her eyes. “Dudes. Both of them are out. Duh. I wouldn’t tell it to some rando stranger out of the blue. Fucking chill.” She focused on Mevi again. “Kel’s a rigger and photographer.”
“Rigger?”
“Rope. Likes to do creative ties. Shibari.”
“Um. Oh. Okay.”
“If you want to move dinner out here,” Cris suggested, “I’ll eat in the kitchen with KC. She can see you guys from there. She’ll be passing out with a full tummy anyway. That way you can talk.”
Tilly deferred to Landry, who looked to Mevi. “Is that all right with you?”
He found himself nodding. “Yes, please.”
“Love, show him the pool house,” Landry told her.
“Really?”
“Might as well.”
“Alrighty, then.” She motioned for Mevi to follow her. On the far side of the pool and not attached to the house, the pool house’s blinds over the windows were drawn. She punched in a four-digit code on the lock and opened the door, reaching in and flipping on the light switch. “We moved our play stuff out here. KC’s still really young, so we’re not worried about her stumbling over it yet. As she gets older, we might have to get creative.”
In front of him was something out of an oddly suburban porno flick. The efficiency apartment’s furniture was pushed to the side. In the middle of the floor sat a padded bench, and in one corner stood a large, upright, X-shaped frame.
“Welcome to our little dungeon,” she said.
A ton of fantasies he never thought would ever come true exploded into his brain. “Can I try stuff?” he whispered, not trusting his voice.
“Well, I think we’ll need to let you talk to Landry about that. And D. D being the professional overseeing your care right now, I wouldn’t be comfortable engaging in negotiations with you without him being on board with it.”
“He said he can’t play with me because it’s against the rules.”
“Understandable.” She patted his shoulder. “That’s why we need to talk.”
* * * *
Doyle hadn’t changed a lot of diapers in his life, and the experience only reinforced to him one of the reasons he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids, he just didn’t want one of his own.
KC, for her part, laughed and giggled as she happily started peeing and pooping at the same time while he had the dirty diaper off her. Finally getting that mess cleaned up, and her, he got a clean diaper on her on the third try after messing up the tape on the first two.
Finally, declaring victory, he held her up, smiling. “Gotcha!”
She laughed, let out a fart, and then the diaper fell off, hitting the floor.
“Shi-oot.”
She reached out and grabbed at his chin.
He put her back on the changing table and tried again, this time getting it on her. “You are definitely your mother’s daughter,” he groused. “Little sadist in training.”
She giggled.
He carried her back out. Cris, seeing him there, smiled as he walked inside to take her from him. “How many tries did it take you?”
“Don’t ask.”
He laughed. “She’s sneaky.”
“That she is.” He noticed Tilly and Mevi were missing. “Where’d they go?”
“She’s showing him the pool house. We made an executive decision while you were diaper wrestling with KC. I’m going to eat inside with her so you guys can talk out on the lanai. Once she’s asleep, I’ll rejoin the conversation.”
Doyle washed his hands before joining Landry on the lanai. He was watching the steaks.
He also smirked. “You look like a man who barely survived several round
s with our tiny little sadist.”
“So it wasn’t just me?”
He snorted. “Nooo.”
Tilly and Mevi exited the pool house and walked over. “How many tries, Freud?” Tilly asked, smirking.
“Not funny. You could have warned me.”
She bumped hips with him. “Well, where’s the fun in that?”
Mevi helped Doyle move the place settings out to the table on the lanai. Doyle felt a little guilty about Cris eating in the kitchen, but on the other hand, as Mevi started asking Landry questions of a personal and adult nature, he was glad his friends were there to help Mevi.
Yeah, he was bi, but he wasn’t gay.
“You’re married to Tilly,” Mevi asked. “So you sleep together?”
Landry smiled. “If the question is do we have sex, yes. I love Tilly very much. I consider myself homoflexible where she is concerned. I fell in love with her as a person even though I still identify as gay. I have never claimed to be a gold star queer.”
“A what?”
That led into a whole other conversation of a more socio-political bent that not even Doyle felt qualified to discuss. Tilly remained mostly silent, occasionally sending Doyle little knowing smirks over some of Landry’s answers.
By the time they were done eating, Doyle and Mevi helped clear the table and clean up while Cris took a yawning baby back to her room to put her down for the night.
Tilly turned to Doyle. “So the next question—since you’re technically calling the shots here—is if Mevi is allowed to negotiate to play tonight for the purpose of exploration.”
Something…odd spun through Doyle at the thought of his friends getting to play with Mevi and he…couldn’t.
He immediately stomped that feeling out, nodding. “I can’t play with him. That’s crossing an ethical line. But I’m okay with it as long as I can observe and have safeword rights to stop it if I think it’s harming him in any way.”
Mevi looked…he couldn’t tell if it was gratitude or something more. “Thank you.”
“Then when Cris gets back,” Landry said, “we shall start talking.”
Chapter Thirteen