It was something both of us had to deal with, the nights or days when I was unavailable. I was attempting to run a criminal empire in a city where another criminal empire was trying to sabotage me and gain its own foothold. That was enough, but considering I didn’t want him anywhere near my business dealings, where I could help it. Because I didn’t want anyone in the Family to go running back to Augustine with stories about Levi’s new boyfriend, one who Augustine would recognize from description alone, it was inevitable that we would have to spend time apart.
The topic was something we mostly avoided. He knew where I stood on the matter, and he hadn’t said much about how he felt, but I knew he wasn’t happy with it. It wasn’t like him to keep his opinion to himself, or it never had been, anyway. Wewere both busy learning more about one another, exploring each other’s bodies, and discovering how much fun it was to share them. So far, nothing ugly had risen to the surface, but I was constantly waiting, watching for any signs of it breaching the surface so I could prepare for when it did.
“I don’t remember seeing them before,” he said, and I heard the chair creak. “Like, I’ve seen your underwear drawer, I don’t remember them.”
“You don’t know whatallmy underwear looks like,” I told him as I stood up, unfolding my slacks and finally turning to face him. Sure enough, his eyes were locked onto me, and I wondered if poking this particular bear had been a bad idea. See, Dom wouldn’t hesitatetoo muchto grope me or worse in the dressing room. And because of how things worked between us, I would only be able to put up a token resistance as he blasted through my defenses. If I wasn’t careful, I could find myself bent over a chair or on my knees.
He smirked. “Your face might not give you away, but I can see the tight underwear is getting even tighter. So maybe...share what’s on your mind?”
“No,” I said calmly as I bent to put my slacks on. “What I’m going to do is get dressed, and you’re going to stay right there and keep your hands to yourself.”
That had been stupid, and I barely had time to realize that before he was approaching me with a grin on his face. He was on the small stage in a heartbeat, wrapping his arm around my lower back and pulling me in for an intense kiss. I gave his chest a push, knowing full well it wouldn’t make a difference, not just because I could never push him away, but he knew the push wasn’t genuinely meant. We could be back here for an hour, and no one would think to check on us, and if I emerged with flushed cheeks and my hair out of place, no one would say anything other than the usual professional back-and-forth as they waitedfor me to pay. There were plenty of criticisms to be had about a place like this, but with the type of clientele they relied on, discretion was as important as respect and quality.
“Stop,” I said between gritted teeth when he pulled away, only to cup my ass possessively.
Yes, possessively because in so many ways that encompassed how he acted with me. He was never so bold as to ‘lay claim’ to me in an obvious way, but he found little ways to slip it in. It never went into the realm of jealousy.
No, jealousy was not his style, and I wouldn’t have tolerated it anyway. Instead, he found ways, like slipping his arm around my waist to squeeze it quickly and quietly, without fanfare or attention. It was in the way he would pat my ass when I bent over to get into my car, or, even simply, smooth my hair on a windy day, unfazed by the intimacy and familiarity of the gesture.
I wouldn’t admit it, but my personal favorite had been when we entered a store, and he held the door open, requiring me to duck under his arm, and slipped a quick kiss in. The act had shocked me because neither of us was all that big on public displays of affection, but he’d done it as if it were the most natural thing. Even when I realized we had been seen, the warmth in my chest and stomach hadn’t wilted, but grown stronger. Here I was, out in public with this absolutely gorgeous man who felt no need to try to possess me but wasn’t shy about showing the world that there was, in fact, a claim on me.
To my surprise, I enjoyed that thought. It was one thing for him to possess me in the privacy of my home or his truck, for that matter, but having it broadcast, even subtly, in public was something I thought would have been unacceptable. And yet, just as with so much in my life, when it came to Dom, he was the exception to many of my rules. I didn’t even care that people saw us and probably assumed that I, the smaller of us, was frequentlybent over by the bigger man who followed behind me when it suited him, and all that implied.
It was the truth anyway, so why balk at it just because it gave people the idea that I was ‘less’? Plus, that whole idea of bottom meaning lesser came from my own head rather than anything others had said. It was, I knew, not only a product of the attitudes that had surrounded me when I was younger, but also the fact that, despite the ‘progress’ The Family had made in many regards, there were still holdovers from the older way of thinking. I was far more protective of the fact that I bottomed for other men when it came to The Family than I ever was about the fact that I slept with men in the first place.
“No,” he said, sliding his hand past the band of my underwear and squeezing my ass with a roughness just shy of uncomfortable. He had been testing our limits a lot lately, and while there had been a couple of ‘ouch’ moments, overall, I didn’t mind. Of course, I was going to have to be careful going forward because there was always the chance he might fuck me hard enough that, although I would love it, I ended up walking funny for hours. That would be fine on days when I could work from home, but I really didn’t want to give even the slightest hint to others that I was injured, especially those who looked to me for leadership.
“What are you…” I began when I saw him draw his hand back to wet one finger. “Don’t you?—”
Again, it was pointless and stupid to assume I could dissuade him without genuinely putting my foot down. I had yet to do that, and I wasn’t doing it now, which is how I ended up gripping his shoulder with a soft noise as I felt his wet finger push into me from behind. I was already pretty wound up from all the flirting he’d been doing with his not-striptease, and the finger was just a way to set those nerves alight as he shoved it inside and pushed against my prostate. I let out a harsh breath, pressingmy forehead against his chest and holding on tight as he slid his finger back and forth, slowly fucking me. I knew it was a promise of things to come rather than any genuine attempt to fuck right there.
“You are awful,” I muttered as I felt his other hand cup my cock, which was now hard enough to stick out of the legs of my underwear.
“And you feel amazing,” he said in that low voice that always went straight to my groin. I had yet to admit to him that his low, growling tone always turned me on, no matter what I was doing. I was wary of giving him more ammunition to use against me. That and well...it was nice to be turned on by something natural and casual, not something he was doing to get me going.
“You always say that,” I told him, giving his chest another push, this one with more force, to signify I was not ready to keep going right now. I was rock hard, my breathing was already sharper, and I was a hair’s breadth away from asking him to fuck me on the spot...but no, not here. I had the night free, so there would be plenty of time to take our arousal out on each other and not be rushed.
“Because you always do,” he said with a snort as he retreated, taking what I was saying in his stride. He never seemed bothered when I enforced a little decency or space between us. On the one hand, it was nice to have someone who could read me so perfectly that I didn’t have to explain myself. On the other hand, there was something...well, eerie actually, that despite fifteen years, he was able to read me with the same ease as years ago. I wasn’t sure what that meant, or if it was just something I was again overthinking, but it sometimes caught me off guard.
“Flattery won’t get you far,” I warned as I got dressed, not hurrying because I knew he wouldn’t get more handsy.
“Is it flattery if I’m telling the truth?” he wondered and plopped down in the seat, flinching when it wobbled slightly.“Jesus, you’d think for what they charge people, they’d bring in chairs that aren’t made out of popsicle sticks.”
I snorted. “I don’t think they’re made of popsicle sticks, you’re just big,” I told him as I buttoned my shirt.
“You like that I’m big.”
“True, but I’m also not a piece of furniture threatening to buckle under your weight.”
“You’ve done quite well under my weight.”
“Again, not a piece of furniture.”
“True,” he said with a smirk. “What else is on the list for the day?”
“I have to make a phone call. Will is stressing about deliveries and shipments I made alterations to, and he’s not sure how to handle them since I didn’t include him in the altered details,” I said as I adjusted the shirt.
“You know, you’ve mentioned that a few times. Why is that?”
