The marks he’d given him, immortalized in real ink.
Another painful tug on his heart.
He shook with Mevi, using both hands, giving his a long, gentle squeeze.
“It’s good to meet you, Mal,” Doyle quietly said, softly enough he knew only Mevi and Tilly could hear.
As Mevi stared down at him, Doyle silently begged Mevi to forgive him.
Wanted to admit he knew how badly he’d fucked up.
“Nice to meet you, too, Sir.”
His heart thumped. Only Tilly would pick up on the distinctive term, Doyle knew.
And she had, because a maniacal giggle burped free from her where she stood next to him.
Doyle finally released Mevi’s hand and retook his seat, Mevi settling on his far side, as the servers started bringing food out.
As they were doing that, Doyle stood again, ignoring Tilly’s fist clamping onto the hem of his blazer.
“Bathroom,” he said to her. “I’ll come back.” He needed to regroup for a moment. Steady himself.
“You’d better,” she growled. “I will hunt you down like a rabid squirrel.”
If he read her steely gaze accurately, she was likely also telling him not to fuck this up.
He absolutely wouldn’t put it past her to hunt him down and drag him back by his ear or something if he didn’t return.
He retreated to the small hallway bathroom, fortunately the only person in the tiny, two-stall room. He’d splashed water on his face and was silently talking himself through a meditation mantra when the door flew open.
Mevi.
He shoved it closed behind him and locked it before crossing the space in one step, grabbing Doyle, and kissing him, hard.
“I didn’t sleep with her, Master,” he whispered, sounding hoarse, heartsick. “I’m sorry. She didn’t know we were together. I swear, I didn’t cheat on you, Master. I haven’t. I won’t. I love you. I haven’t been with anyone but you since we got together. I’ve been trying to find you and talk to you.”
Doyle reached up and palmed his cheek, speechless.
Then, before Doyle could stop him, Mevi dropped to his knees and had already yanked Doyle’s zipper down. As Doyle slumped against the wall, Mevi sucked his cock down his throat, deep, hard, desperate.
Doyle didn’t want to stop him.
Couldn’t have stopped him.
He grabbed Mevi’s hair and held on and tried not to think, just to stay quiet. It only took Mevi’s talented mouth a moment to suck the climax out of him as he held on to the other man’s head and gently fucked his mouth in time to Mevi’s movements.
Then Mevi lovingly tucked his cock back in and made him presentable again before wrapping his arms around Doyle’s legs and resting his head against him.
“Good boy,” Doyle whispered. “I love you, too. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed and talked to you.”
“Bonnie told me what she said. I tried to call you as soon as I woke up and realized you were gone. Come back with me to the hotel later, Master. Please?”
“I can’t. I have a client. I left her alone tonight for this as a trial for her.”
“Then let me come with you.”
He sighed. “We can’t do that, and you know why.”
“Give me your phone num—”
The sound of someone trying the door startled them. Mevi ducked into a stall and locked it as Doyle immediately unlocked the bathroom door. “Sorry. It stuck on me when I tried it, too.”
He quickly returned to the dining room and ignored Tilly’s laser-focused inquisition-worthy gaze.
Mevi returned a moment later, looking completely calm and focused and taking his time to talk to people on his way back to the table.
Doyle made the mistake of making eye contact with Tilly. She arched an eyebrow at him, but he gave her a quick shake of his head.
Not now, especially not around a room full of kids.
She leaned in and he knew it’d make more of a scene if he tried to pull away.
“Find out his hotel and I’ll drop you there before I go back and stay with Pippa tonight.”
He stared at her. “That’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea, and you know it. She’s fine, and the extra time away from you and with another woman will be a great confidence boost for her.”
“You packed an overnight bag, didn’t you?”
“Fu-freaking A, I did.” She grinned. “Dang Doms. Stupid men, that’s what you are.”
* * * *
Mevi was painfully aware of Doyle’s presence next to him. He knew if he sat there staring at the man all night, not only would it not be fair to the kids and parents and donors he was there to entertain and meet, it would be blatantly obvious.
Because he’d burst into tears and fall onto his knees in front of Doyle, wanting to put his head in the man’s lap.
Feel his fingers stroking his hair.
All the band members took turns going around the room to meet everyone and take pictures with the people at every table. At one point, he noticed Bonnie over at his table and talking to Doyle.
Instead of running over, like he wanted to, he forced himself to stay where he was and talk with the kids currently needing his attention.
* * * *
Doyle wasn’t sure what to do when Bonnie started making the rounds of their table. Like Mevi had, she started at the chair to Mevi’s left and worked her way around, leaving Tilly, and then himself for last.
It shocked him when she hugged him and whispered into his ear.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were together. We didn’t sleep together. He came to my room to work that night and fell asleep, that’s all, I swear. He’s heartsick missing you.” Then she stepped back, the warm, friendly smile on her face that she’d given everyone else firmly fixed to her face.
Except she squeezed his hands, hard, before moving to another table.
Tilly leaned in as he sat. “Well?”
He nodded. “She apologized.”
“Good.” Tilly glanced in Bonnie’s direction. “That means I don’t have to hurt her.”
He elbowed her, hoping she was kidding, but with Tilly, one could never be sure.
Not completely.
She had, after all, punched a guy.
And that was someone she considered a friend.
That wasn’t even counting what she’d done to Erique.
Garth, Troy, and Pasch also made rounds, shaking hands with him and greeting him warmly, apparently none the wiser about the hidden drama between himself, Mevi, and Bonnie. Or, if they were, they were also hiding it.
It’s going to be a long damn night.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The shakes hit Doyle as Tilly drove them away from the estate.
“Why shouldn’t I kill you now?” he grumbled.
“Uh, if that was some weird, psychologist version of the phrase ‘thank you,’ then you’re welcome.”
“How long were you planning this with him?”
“I wasn’t. Planning with him that is. He didn’t know we were going to be there. It really was a coincidence. Leigh forgot to tell me about the tickets until last night, and they almost went to waste. When I found out who the guest was, I nearly shit myself.” She glanced at him. “By the way, you’re fucking welcome.”
“Thank you.”
She held up a room key card, handing it to him. “And here. 912. Top floor. You’ll need that for the elevator, too. He specifically said don’t knock, just come in.”
He took it, staring at it. “Do I even want to know how you got his room key?”
“He gave it to me. Duh. He can get another one at the front desk. This way, you don’t have to ask security to call up and give your name and all that bullshit. Their elevators only work for keycards, and they have security staff stationed at desks by the elevators on all floors. They’re used to dealing with elite clientele. We use them for the studio all the time.”
r /> “Oh.”
“Dumbass men,” she muttered. She let out a startled meep and swerved back into the correct lane when she spotted an oncoming car in their lane.
“Maybe you should let me off here and I’ll call an Uber or something.”
The only thing that scared him more than Tilly was Tilly’s right-hand driving skills.
“Yeah, like you haven’t done that same shit. Out in the country like this, no traffic, it’s easy to forget.”
“I need to call Pippa.”
“Like hell, you do. I’ll show up, get her talking, and tell her this was the deal the whole time to see how she’d handle the sudden departure from plans. Just keep your ringer on. If she has a meltdown, I’ll call you.”
He turned to stare at her. “Seriously, how freaking long did you work on this plan?”
“You think that’s impressive? Only took me about a split-second to come up with a good reason to counter you saying you had to call her. This is why women are usually superior to men in nearly every way except peeing while standing, and I’m sure we could improve on that if we really wanted to.”
She flashed him a manic grin.
* * * *
It took them nearly an hour to get there. She pulled up under the canopy to let him out so the chilly drizzle didn’t get him wet. “Have fun. I’ll pick you up at ten, and you and me and Pippa can eat breakfast together. Or breakky. Or morning kipper tea. Whatever the fuck they call it here.” She grinned.
Now she was deliberately fucking with him and he knew it.
“Thank you, Til,” he said. “Seriously.”
She shrugged. “Like I’ve told others, I like to help my friends. Pay it forward.” She smacked his shoulder. “Now don’t fuck it all up. Don’t run away again. I mean, I know logistics are tricky with Pippa, and with his tour, but take a break after you’re done with her and go join him.”
“What will people say?”
“Fuck that. Who gives a shit? Don’t let him blow you in public and no one will know you’re an item. Dude, seriously? I’m doing all the heavy thinking work for you. Dom up. You’re smarter than that.” She shooed him out of the car. “Get the fuck out and go…fuck. Not fuck up.”
He opened the door and did just that, glancing over his shoulder to see her shooing him again. Walking through the front door with the key card in his hand, he glanced around, spotting the elevator bank to his right.
A man in a perfectly pressed uniform nodded to him, his gaze obviously on the key card in Doyle’s hand. “Ev’ning, sir.”
Doyle fought the urge to nervously giggle. “Evening.” He inserted the key card into the slot by the up button before he hit the button, and the middle of the three doors immediately slid open.
Relieved, Doyle stepped in and inserted the key card into the clearly marked spot next to the bank of buttons before he hit the one for 9.
A green light blinked at him as the doors slid shut and the car smoothly whisked him up.
He withdrew the key card, his throat suddenly dry, nervous tension filling him, nearly making him sick.
What did he even say to Mevi? Okay, obviously Mevi wanted to mend fences.
But how did he get over his guilt at not trusting his boy?
At abandoning him?
When the door slid open again, a man seated at a counter glanced at Doyle’s hands, nodding when Doyle held up the key card as he stepped out.
“Ev’ning, sir.”
“E-evening.” He glanced at the signs and found the direction for Mevi’s room. Turning left out of the elevator alcove, he tried to focus on his breathing as he slowed when he approached the end of the corridor and stopped in front of 912.
He’d started to raise his hand to knock when he remembered what Tilly had said.
Swallowing hard, hand trembling, it took him two tries to fit the card into the slot.
The light blinked green and he heard something click inside the lock.
Realizing he was just standing there, he withdrew the card and reached out and twisted the handle, holding his breath as the door opened and he stepped inside.
The room was dim, just the light from a small lamp in the suite’s living room area casting a soft glow, enough to see by. When he turned, he realized Mevi had shoved tissue into the viewfinder, and there was a towel on the floor next to the door.
Good boy.
He put the towel into place and straightened, looking around.
The bedroom door stood open, a dark cavern.
Doyle forced his feet forward. When he was in the doorway, he spotted Mevi on the floor, naked and in his formal pose, arms stretched out in front of him, knees perfectly tucked under him, forehead touching the floor.
He wondered how long he’d been there like that.
Waiting.
Waiting for him.
Not even sure if he’d come.
“Good boy,” he hoarsely said. “My beautiful, perfect boy.”
Mevi’s shoulders started trembling, then shaking, and Doyle immediately recognized what was going on. He didn’t even remember moving, but he found himself sitting on the floor and had Mevi half in his lap, Doyle holding him, trying to brush his tears away, kissing him. Mevi wrapped his arms around him, desperate, clutching him as Doyle kissed his lips, kissed his cheeks, kissed his forehead, kissed away his tears.
“I’m so sorry, Mal,” he whispered, barely able to speak knowing how much needless pain he’d caused his boy. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have trusted you. I should have—”
Mevi grabbed his head and pulled him down for another long, deep kiss. Then, before Doyle realized it, he was half-naked and on top of Mevi, who was desperately trying to help him shed his clothes even as Mevi was rolling onto his back and spreading his legs, wrapping them around Doyle’s waist.
He didn’t even have his pants all the way off yet when Mevi grabbed Doyle’s cock and guided him into his already lubed ass.
Doyle started to sit up, to ask for a condom, but Mevi grabbed him by the head and pulled him down for another kiss.
Fuck it.
He slid home, both of them moaning as he paused and tried to focus on not immediately exploding.
He propped himself up with one arm as he kicked his shoes off and shoved his pants and briefs down enough he could finish yanking them off. That left him in only his socks.
Mevi’s fingers dug into the back of Doyle’s head, holding him there, kissing him as Doyle took a deep breath and fucked him, hard, driving him across the carpet with every pounding thrust. Mevi’s heels dug into his ass, meeting him stroke for stroke. Between them, Mevi’s stiff cock was tightly wedged skin to skin, and when Mevi’s climax exploded, he took Doyle with him while Doyle’s cock pumped every last drop of cum from his balls straight into Mevi’s ass.
Lips locked together, both of them moaned, devouring each other as they fell still, panting, five feet from where they’d first started fucking.
Doyle’s eyes fell closed as he rested his forehead against Mevi’s. “My sweet, perfect boy. My very good boy. I don’t deserve you.”
Mevi’s grip on him, arms and legs, tightened as he started crying again. “I love you, Master,” he sobbed. “I love you so much. I was so scared I’d never see you again.”
Doyle rolled them onto their sides so he could wrap his arms around Mevi and stroke his hair. “I love you, too, boy.” He finally raised his head and caught Mevi’s right hand in his, kissing the inside of his wrist, tracing the tattoo with his tongue. “I missed you every damn day.”
“I didn’t want to lose the marks you gave me, Master,” Mevi softly said. “I trace them several times a day with my finger.”
Doyle brushed his thumb over the marks. “I can’t believe you got them tattooed on you.”
“They’re my Master’s marks,” Mevi said. “They belong there.”
Doyle kissed his wrist again. “My good, sweet boy.”
“Please don’t leave me again, Master.” Mevi’s soft p
lea ripped at Doyle’s soul.
“I have a client, and you have a tour. I can’t walk out on my client.”
“I meant…don’t ghost again, Master. Please? I know you can’t break confidentiality. After you’re finished with your client, join me. Please? Come with me.”
Doyle stared into the blue eyes that had haunted him for so many long, lonely months. It didn’t escape his notice that Mevi kept using the word Master.
Doyle nodded. “Okay.”
It took him a few more minutes to get Mevi calmed. He led the man into the bathroom, which Doyle was pleasantly surprised to see had a huge soaking tub. He started the water running and quickly took a piss in the toilet while Mevi grabbed the tube of lube and stepped into the tub, waiting for him.
Doyle joined him. He’d been planning on letting Mevi fuck him if he wanted, but his boy had other ideas.
He pushed Doyle back, straddling him and kissing him as he used his hand to stroke Doyle’s cock hard again. The water hadn’t quite made it up to them when Mevi added more lube to Doyle’s cock before impaling himself, hard, his eyes falling closed as he softly moaned.
“Yes!”
Doyle reached up, holding his head. “Eyes open, boy.”
Mevi’s eyes fluttered open as he braced his hands on the edge of the tub on either side of Doyle’s head.
“Good boy.” With his left hand cupping Mevi’s cheek, Doyle reached between them with his right hand and slowly stroked Mevi’s cock, which was also hard again. “Ride me slowly, boy,” he hoarsely ordered. “Don’t come until I tell you to.”
Mevi complied, engulfing Doyle’s thumb with his mouth and sucking on it even as he rode his cock.
“That’s my sweet boy. Did you miss this?”
“Yes, Master,” he mumbled around Doyle’s thumb.
“So did I. And no, I haven’t been with anyone, either. Although I came damn close to throwing away my sobriety.”
Mevi sucked hard on Doyle’s thumb, nearly making him come then, but Doyle held back. Pulling his thumb from Mevi’s mouth, he dropped his hand to the man’s hip, guiding him, fucking him harder, faster, meeting his gaze as his other hand stroked Mevi’s cock.