Steve could imagine plenty of good kinds of pain he’d like Dylan to experience at his hand – most of them literally.
Dylan would look amazing getting spanked. Over his knee, ass up and squirming against his erection – Steve could picture it perfectly.
His cock throbbed, fully erect and making an obscene bulge in his uniform pants.
Taking an abrupt turn into an alley, Steve stood with his back to the street and tried very hard not to think any more about Dylan over his knee.
His mind flashed to when Ryker had put him on his knees, but the humiliating memory didn’t do anything to lessen his erection.
Steve decided not to think about that.
His cock kept throbbing, and Steve seriously considered moving deeper into the alley and jerking off. It would take just a few pumps, no lube required, and he’d be spraying his load all over the brick wall.
Except that Steve would never jerk off in public. He started going over radio codes in his mind, willing his hard-on down.
After a few minutes, Steve’s cock had softened enough that his bulge was merely inappropriate. It would have to do. He left the alley and resumed his patrol.
If Dylan actually enjoyed getting spanked, Steve would rather not know. The disappointment of missing out on such a perfect trifecta – scent, looks and kinkiness – would be too crushing.
7
AUGUST
August stood in front of the mirror, striking a pose and assessing his outfit for the evening. The leather pants were a bit much – the leather was supple and tight, with a high waist and ribbed paneling – but he’d paired them with a neutral black sweater that prevented him from looking too over the top.
The sweater was made from a knitted fabric on the thicker side, though it fit him like a glove and did a good job showing off his wide shoulders and trim waist.
He squinted at his reflection, wondering if he should change into something more conservative. He was sporting a bigger bulge than he’d usually be willing to show in public, and he didn’t typically broadcast his fetish sensibilities like this.
Turning around and looking over his shoulder, he admired the way the leather pants hugged his muscular ass. The leather was tailored to show off his glutes and tree-trunk thighs, and the fit was surprisingly comfortable.
Stepping away from the mirror, August decided he’d keep the pants. He wanted Dylan drooling at the sight of him, and he couldn’t think of a better way than to show up dressed in tight leather and a sweater that made his arms look gigantic.
Grabbing his motorcycle boots, figuring they’d pair well with the leather pants, August took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled them on.
He was just finished zipping the boots up when he heard Ryker coming home, the sound of the elevator a faint ping from the other end of the penthouse apartment.
August was relieved. They were meeting Dylan in less than an hour, and with traffic they had to be out of the apartment in about thirty minutes or risk being late. If Ryker was going to have time to shower and get ready, he was cutting it close.
“In the bedroom!” he called, standing up and walking back to the mirror. The boots added about an inch to his height, and he’d been right about them looking good with his new pants.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Ryker asked, coming into the room. He gave him an appreciative up and down and moved in for a kiss. “Nice. I was just going to wear a suit.”
August leaned into him, reaching around and grabbing his ass. “You look good in suits.”
Ryker grinned into his mouth. “Thank you.”
They pulled apart and Ryker moved into the bathroom. He left the door open as he stripped off his suit and tossed it in the laundry basket, his cock flopping from side to side as he made his way to the shower and turned on the water.
August walked over and closed the door, not wanting steam getting into the bedroom.
He went over to Ryker’s side of the closet to pick out an outfit. There was a navy-blue three-piece suit that Ryker hadn’t worn in a while that made his thighs look fantastic, which paired with an open collared dress shirt and brown oxford dress shoes would look very nice.
He arranged the outfit on the bed, heading back to the closet to find a belt to match the shoes.
Walking past the laundry basket, he felt a pang of regret that he hadn’t saved Ryker’s compression pants and shirt from the night before from being taken by the cleaner. The combined scents of his mate’s scent and Dylan’s bodily fluids had been heavenly.
August chuckled. It had been quite the shock when Ryker came home a whole hour after him, grinning like a lunatic, drenched in sweat and reeking of sex.
