“How did you find out where I live?”
“I checked the notes at the gym. Knox gave you a membership.”
“I’m sure that’s against some kind of data protection rule.”
We stare at each other for a long minute. Royal seems genuinely hurt. “Yeah, well it seemed the only way, so I don’t give a shit. Regardless of that, I’m pissed off, Memphis. Youknow that, right? You can’t be as committed as you said, not if you up and leave without talking to me. That’s the most important part of any relationship, and even more so in a lifestyle like ours.”
“So pissed off you had to find out where I live, break in, and then get into my bed.” I lift the covers to look down at his body. “Naked.”
This is how he thinks I’ll be won over? Just take his clothes off and expect me to jump on his dick. That’s not how this is going to go. This is crossing a line. I already feel like I’m being gaslighted, and we haven’t even started whatever we want to have.
I shake my head. “Nope. Sorry, Royal, but this is not happening. Please, get out of my bed.”
He stares at me as if he doesn’t understand what I’ve said. Then he scowls at me and shakes his head. “You’re fucking unbelievable. You wanted it all last night. If you’d had your way, I would’ve been balls deep inside you on the damn sofa.”
“Yeah, and I’m supposed to have read your mind this morning or just accept that you’ve already tried to put the blame on me. I wassupposedto wait in your bed like a good little boy? No, Royal, you should’ve stayed in bed. Why was taking a shower that important that it had to be done as soon as you woke up?”
He swings his legs out of my bed and grabs his clothes, pulling them on, standing up to fasten his jeans. “It wasn’t important. I thought I was though.”
“That’s a crap answer. It would be easier if you just said, ‘I’m sorry, I made a mistake.’ I’m not the one at fault here. Is it the way you treat all your boys, to get them out of your bed with the least amount of fuss?”
He looks down at me, his forehead furrowed. “I don’t take anyone to my bed, Memphis. I don’t do relationships. You’re the first to share my bed.”
“Then maybe you need to learn how to behave in a relationship, not everything in life is or should be a scene.” With that said, I lie back down and turn my back to him.
I flinch when the door slams behind him.
I’m still livid when I storm into Saint’s tattoo studio.
Noah looks up at me from his booth, his gun silent as he raises an eyebrow. The quiet kid who turned up and demanded a job from Saint has grown into a strong submissive. He needs to be to handle my brother’s hard demands as his Dom.
Whatever he sees on my face, he knows why I’m here. “He’s in the office.” He gestures with his head towards the door behind the booths.
“Thanks, Noah. Sorry to have interrupted you.” I take the route to the office, passing by him, glancing down at the tattoo he’s working on. The kid has talent by the bucket.
I tap on the door frame, making Saint look up from the computer screen he’s staring at. “You got a minute, bro?”
A lazy smile tips his lips up at the corners of his mouth. “What’ve you done to upset that gorgeous little boy? ‘Cause there’s no way you’d be here if you’d had a good night.”
“The little fucker just got out of my bed and left,” I snap, full of anger and confusion, making Saint laugh hard.
“I’m going to need more than that, mate.” The humour in his tone is annoying me, especially after all the fuck ups he made when he first got together with Noah.
I give him a condensed version of the conversation, trying not to play down my part in it, but Saint knows me too well, and he can see through me.
“So, basically, you got up early for a shower, leaving the boy of your dreams in your bed so you could go and rub one off. Just to stop you from jumping his bones. Jesus, Royal, you’re a dickhead. You could’ve stayed in bed, then either engaged in a mutually pleasing frottage or taken him into your shower and done it there instead. Because a closed bathroom door is most definitely a let yourself out message.”
“He said I had to learn how to be in a relationship. Isn’t that what Noah said to you. So how did you do it?”
Saint leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, his lips a thin line. “I listened to my boy. He told me that anything to do with kink was to be done at the club. He could differentiate between boyfriend Saint and Master Saint that way. It worked.”
“It can’t be as simple as that. And no kink? Nothing? That doesn’t sound fun.” I grimace at the thought of vanilla sex.
There’s laughter behind me, when I turn my head, Noah is in the doorway with a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat. “There’s still plenty of kink, and it’s not going to be the same with you and Memphis. He’s lived this lifestyle, so he can tell a scene from normal affection and sex. I had to learn all of that, so when Saint wanted to teach me or just have a night in the club with me as his sub, I understood that he was my master, and if he wanted me to bend over for him, I knew I would. If he said it to me when we were unpacking groceries, I could tell him politely to fuck right off.”
I don’t hold back my snort of laughter. “It’s different with littles and boys. A lot of the lifestyle is done in the home, and the clubs are for playing with others and maybe a scene. He knows that since he’s done this before. He had a live-in relationship with his ex-Daddy.”
Noah’s huff of laughter sounds disappointed. “You Foster brothers may have had a wonderful change of living in your formative teenage years, but going straight to the BDSM clubs and scene has done you so much damage in your day-to-day life.” He looks at Saint, giving him a wink. “Not you, babe, I’ve sorted you out. It’s not Kip or Robin’s fault—it’s your perception of life as a Daddy or a Dom; you only wanted the fun stuff, the things that got you off. You walk away from each little at the end of the night and don’t think about them again or not until you’re horny and want some cute twink to bounce on your dick. If you want Memphis, then you need to know him outside of him being a little and you being a daddy. Date, go for dinner, go to the cinema, normal stuff.”
