August had a sudden mental picture of himself tied up and gagged, locked in the cage in the corner of their playroom.
He shuddered in distaste.
“Not as good as you,” he said.
Dylan chuckled and then fell silent. August was just about to break the silence when Dylan spoke again.
“Are you actually serious?” He took a quick breath. “About me moving in?”
“One hundred percent,” August said.
“I’ll think about it.”
August would take that. He decided to move the conversation along.
“So that’s a yes, right, on me picking you up and swinging by your apartment?” He rose from his chair and walked over to grab his coat from the closet. Before Dylan could answer in the negative, he asked, “Where should I pick you up?”
“Sure,” Dylan said, laughing at August’s obvious ploy. “Can you pick me up at the north side of the library? I’ll text you the address.”
“Sure. I’m heading out now. Meet you there in twenty?”
“Okay, sounds good,” Dylan said. He sounded happy, and August couldn’t wait to see him. “I’ll see you there.”
* * *
August arrived at the agreed upon pickup point first, and as he stood next to his car and waited for Dylan to show up, he wished he’d pulled a trick from Steve’s hat and taken his motorcycle.
It was a little cold for it, but it would have been worth it to have Dylan clinging to his back and hugging him tight as they drove home. He could have worn his leather racing suit, which he was sure Dylan would have appreciated greatly.
Then again, if he’d taken the bike, Dylan wouldn’t be able to bring a suitcase with him from his studio to August and Ryker’s place. August decided that the cons of the motorcycle in this case outweighed the pros, and he changed his mind about wishing he’d taken his bike that morning. He would have to content himself with a big hug when Dylan showed up, and then maybe Dylan would want to give him a blowjob when they stopped by his apartment.
August pushed his hands into his pockets, the winter chill making him regret his decision to forgo gloves that morning. He was debating going back into the car to wait there when he saw Dylan bounding down the sidewalk towards him.
“There you are,” August said, yanking Dylan into a tight hug the second he was in reach. He pushed his face into Dylan’s wool hat and mumbled, “I missed you.”
Dylan laughed and hugged him back. “I missed you, too. Are you ready to go?”
August released him, wrapping an arm over his shoulder as he steered him toward the passenger front seat.
“Absolutely.” He held the door open for Dylan and then walked around to the driver’s side door and climbed behind the wheel. “Seatbelt on?”
Dylan nodded, and August pulled away from the curb and started the drive to Dylan’s apartment.
“Have you had a good day?” August asked, reaching over and putting his hand on Dylan’s thigh. He squeezed, enjoying the way Dylan trembled at his touch.
“I did,” Dylan said. He shifted, and August slid his hand up so that he could squeeze his inner thigh. “I met Steve, and he came to lunch with me and Annie at a café over by the campus. It was nice.”
August felt a pang of annoyance that Officer Puppy had gotten to have lunch with Dylan and he hadn’t even been invited. He could have found the time.
“That’s nice. How was he?”
Dylan shrugged. “He seemed okay. A little bummed out that he can’t join your pack, maybe.”
“Our pack,” August corrected. He couldn’t quite hide how smug it made him feel to say it.
“Our pack,” Dylan agreed, smiling to himself.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t be there this morning,” August said. He regretted not calling in sick. He was the boss – no one would have challenged him on it and his appointments could have been shifted around or handed over to Mary. “Did you get breakfast?”
