Chapter Thirteen

An irritating buzzing came from Raif’s phone, one he’d set to make sure he wouldn’t sleep through it no matter how tired. He rolled over to shut it off, going still as he realized the bed was empty. But the sound of running water sounded in the distance. The bathroom shower.

His boy hadn’t slipped away.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Raif stretched before rising from the bed, then strolled into the bathroom, standing in the doorway for a few moment to simply enjoy the view. Tyler was naked, still wet from the shower, and had apparently found one of the spare toothbrushes Raif kept in the bathroom drawer for guests. Tyler spit in the sink, rinsed his mouth with a handful of water, then straightened and grinned at Raif in the mirror.

“Was gonna go jump you in bed if you didn’t wake up soon.” Tyler wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned. His dick was fully erect, and the look he gave Raif sent a pang of lust shooting straight into his gut. “We’re running out of time.”

“Are we?” Raif stepped up to Tyler, trapping him against the sink. He framed Tyler’s jaw with his hand and indulged in a soft kiss, savoring the fresh mint on Tyler’s tongue. He hadn’t been gentle in his kisses earlier because he’d sensed Tyler would shy away from tenderness, but he no longer believed that was the case. His boy was soaking up every ounce of attention and affection. Demanding more, however, was unacceptable. “A small piece of advice, Ty. Never give in to the urge to ‘jump me.’ It will not end at all as you expect.”

Tyler snorted and nipped Raif’s bottom lip. “Yeah? Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t try to wake you up by sucking your dick. Wouldn’t want to piss you off.”

Jebi ga! For a young man who’d believed himself straight until recently, Tyler clearly had no intention of easing into his experiences with another man. Which should have been obvious from the way he’d been fooling around with Carter and Demyan, but all Raif had seen from that was Tyler being used by his friends. He’d misjudged the situation.

Tyler appeared to know exactly what he was getting into.

The idea of Tyler’s lips slipping over his dick made it difficult to focus on preparing for the game. Raif watched Tyler bend over the sink to wash his face and struggled with his resolve to wait until after said game to fuck him. The brat had to know how tempting he was.

Such behavior couldn’t be encouraged. Raif forced himself to look away. Something white on the floor caught his attention. Socks, right beside the hamper. Tyler had probably made an attempt to get them in the basket in his rush to follow Raif’s orders, which was good, but that he’d failed gave Raif the perfect excuse to take another step in the boy’s training. Which was partly why Chicklet had given Raif access to her sub, after all.

Waiting until Tyler had lifted his head from the sink, Raif caught his gaze in the reflection. Hauled back and laid a hard slap on Tyler’s ass, hitting both cheeks at once.

Tyler jumped, spinning around and staring at Raif in shock. “What the fuck, man?”

“Never an appropriate way to address your Dom, Ty. Put your hands on the edge of the sink.” Impressed that Tyler did as he was told without further objection, Raif showed his approval by rubbing over the red mark before he continued with the punishment. Three more solid smacks. “Do you know why I spanked you?”

“That was a spanking? I don’t know, you like beating my ass?”

Much more and the ache would distract Tyler from his play out on the ice. Raif crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. His lips thinned as Tyler mirrored his stance.

Tyler dropped his gaze to the floor and lowered his arms. A blotchy red blush showed high on his cheeks. “Not sure about the first one, but I probably shouldn’t be talking to you like that in your house.” He lifted his head, teeth denting his bottom lip. “Is it cool in the locker room? Not sure I’m ready to call you ‘Sir’ there.”

“That’s fine, but I reserve the right to…discuss any disrespect once in the privacy of one of our homes.”

“Shit. Okay, that’s fair.” Tyler wrinkled his nose as he rubbed his ass. “And the first one?”

Raif smiled slowly. “Your socks are on the floor.”

Eyes wide, Tyler glanced over at the socks. Let out another snort as he slid by Raif, deliberately bending over in front of Raif to pick them up. The position made Raif want to smack him again—or grab the bottle of baby oil under the sink and take what Tyler offered. Instead, he went to the counter to retrieve his shaving supplies from a drawer. He’d noticed a slight redness around Tyler’s lips, beard burn from their rough kisses. The team hadn’t clinched a play-off spot yet so there was no need to have scruff that would leave obvious marks on the boy if it could be avoided.

Resting his hand on the counter by the sink, Tyler stood for a moment, watching Raif shave. Then he sighed. “You’re gonna make me ask, aren’t you?”

Moving the straight blade away from his face, Raif looked at Tyler in the mirror. “Ask what?”

“Ask you to fuck me. I’m ready and we have time and you didn’t get off so it just feels wrong and—”

“Stop. I am not going to fuck you. Certainly not before the game.”

“Why the he—I mean, why not?” By Tyler’s crestfallen expression, Raif might as well have told the young man he wouldn’t be playing the game at all tonight. “I’m being good and talking like you wanted me to.”

“Yes, you seem to have lost your ability to shut up.” Raif chuckled when Tyler’s automatic scowl quickly shifted to a blank look. He was learning. “You are a virgin. I will do my best to prepare you so there will not be much pain, but it may be unavoidable. I will not risk it before a game—we have too much riding on every single win.”

The blank look became surly, reminding Raif how young Tyler still was. But he wouldn’t point out that Tyler was pouting like a child. The bare honesty in every word and expression was required for Raif to take this any further. Even teasing Tyler might have him closing down again.

He made quick work of shaving, cleaned and put all his things away, then reached out to put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “You will learn patience, boy. And I would appreciate it if you’d attempt not to test mine.”

“I’m not fucking trying to—shit, I’m sorry. Yeah, I know better than to swear at you, but this is fucked up!” Tyler jerked back and raked his fingers through his damp curls. “What you did to me was awesome, but it was all for me! I need to do something for you!”

All right, shouting was never good behavior for a sub, but Raif had to admit the passion Tyler displayed turned him on much more than stiff submissive dignity or any kind of groveling. He put his hand on Tyler’s cheek and ran his thumb over Tyler’s lips. “Kneel, zlato moje.”

Good boy. Raif nodded his approval as Tyler lowered to his knees, gazing up at him. Dropping hard on the tiles would have required another lecture. And Raif was tired of giving them. He craved a taste of Tyler’s uninhibited desire to serve, no matter how unrefined it was. So long as his boy didn’t hurt himself giving it.

Only, they were moving faster than Raif would like. He’d meant to ease Tyler into acts that would have him questioning his sexuality any further, but he had to be flexible to keep up with Tyler’s needs. If nothing else, perhaps this would be a chance to show Tyler he had the power to stop at any time with no regrets.

Undoing the button on his pants, then lowering the zipper, Raif studied Tyler’s face as he freed his dick. The way Tyler licked his lips made Raif’s dick throb. He put his hand on the back of Tyler’s head and used the other to ease his dick into Tyler’s mouth.

Soft and warm and wet, Tyler’s lips slid over him. His tongue tentatively slipped around the head of Raif’s cock. He opened his mouth wider, breathing around Raif. So inexperienced, so eager as he began to move with the gentle press of Raif’s hand on his head, but it was the way he held Raif’s gaze as he took him deeper that almost set Raif off.

A small dimple showed on his cheek as he sucked and Raif smiled. The boy was incorrigible, which was sexy and endearing as hell. Which was exactly where Raif was headed for corrupting him. He hadn’t done it alone, but there was no way to look into that angel face and not know he was damned as he began thrusting harder. He threw his head back as the ability to care about his many sins left him. The pleasure erupted and he slammed his hand on the counter behind Tyler as he came, his legs almost giving out as Tyler continued to suck and lick.

After he pulled out of Tyler’s mouth, Tyler scrambled to his feet and kissed him. The salty taste of Raif’s cum was still on his lips, but Raif couldn’t help but deepen the kiss to savor the evidence that, in this moment, he’d marked Tyler in every possible way.

Or almost. He groaned and slid his lips down Tyler’s throat, setting his teeth into Tyler’s shoulder and biting down hard. Tyler let out a rough sound of pain even as he wrapped his arms around Raif’s waist.

They stood like that for much too long, Raif kissing over the red indents of his teeth in Tyler’s flesh, far too pleased to know it would leave a bruise. He heard his phone sound in the distance, warning him that he had less than fifteen minutes to get them to the Forum for warm-up.

“You pleased me very much, Ty.” Raif kissed Tyler’s forehead, then stepped back to put some much needed distance between them. “We must go.”

“Yeah…” Tyler ducked his head, glancing over at the mirror. “You got some gel? My hair don’t look all neat like the hairdresser did it.”

Raif laughed and wrapped his arms around Tyler from behind. “It looks a little wild. I prefer you that way.” Distance. People will wonder if you are both late. He dropped his arms to his sides. “Get dressed. Let’s not forget you have much to prove after you suspension.”

“Not a problem!” Tyler sprinted out of the bathroom. Raif found him, moments later, in the living room pulling on his shirt. He donned his jacket as Tyler stared down at his bare feet with a sheepish smile on his face. “Mind if I borrow some socks?”

They made it to the Forum and down to the locker room in time to avoid notice, but strangely enough, the smallest things did draw some attention. Raif shook his head, fighting not to smile as he heard Pischlar comment to White that “I didn’t buy Vanek those socks.” An odd thing for Pischlar to remark on, but Raif hadn’t thought about how obvious the expensive gray argyle socks he’d tossed to Tyler would be in the locker room. Which was only made worse by one of the trainers bringing Tyler a new pair of the Under Armour socks that he usually wore.

Just a few minutes later, Carter plunked down on the bench beside Tyler, cocking his head as Tyler hummed quietly to himself while taping his stick.

Carter’s eyes went wide. He punched Tyler in the shoulder and it was very difficult not to go over there and strangle the impertinent switch for daring to lay a hand on his sub.

Except, Carter was one of Tyler’s best friends. He was a teammate. Tyler wasn’t really “Raif’s sub,” and the possessive urge had no place in the locker room.

Not to mention Raif was pretty sure Sebastian Ramos could, and would, kill him if he harmed Carter.

“You seriously humming, ‘Son of a Preacher Man’?” Carter slung his arm over Tyler’s shoulder. “Guess it’s better than ‘I Feel Pretty.’”

Face red, Tyler ducked his head. “Fuck off, Luke. I wasn’t humming that.”

“Bullshit. Come on, don’t be shy. I know all the words and everything.”

Demyan walked over and shoved Carter off the bench. “Leave him alone. You’re a goddamn pain in the ass.”

“Wow, what the fuck got into you?”

“Nothing. Can you be serious for once? We finally get to play again.”

“Yeah, whatever, asshole. I’m finally not sick. I’m in a good mood. Guess I better stay away from you if I wanna stay that way.” Carter crossed the room to sit beside Richards, rubbing his knuckles on the rookie’s head which had Hunt growling at him.

At the other side of the room, Ramos was shaking his head and muttering what appeared to be a prayer to the ceiling. Raif grinned and inclined his head when Ramos glanced his way. Ramos smiled back, then grabbed a roll of tape and tossed it at Carter, hitting him in the forehead.

Carter rubbed his forehead. Stared at Ramos. Then blew him a kiss.

And I thought Tyler was a handful. Raif sat back against one side of his stall and observed the relaxed conversation of the men around him, though most of his focus remained on Tyler who laughed and smiled easily with Perron who gave him a welcoming, one-armed hug, and Pischlar and White whose good-natured teasing seemed to have erased the unpleasantness with Demyan.

Though, despite Demyan snapping at Carter, Raif had to admit there was a change in the atmosphere here with all three of them being back. The tension that had lingered all week was gone. The men spoke of the game against the Ducks as though they not only could, but would win. Even Callahan was in a good mood when he joined them for a quick, pregame pep talk.

“It’s been a rough week, but we’ve got a full house for the first time in months. Our chance of making the playoff is gonna take some wins and a lot of luck. The critics don’t like our odds.” Callahan put his hand on Carter’s shoulder. Met Perron’s eyes and grinned. “They have no fucking clue what we’ve been through this year. And if they do, they don’t understand how determined we are to go all the way. Go out there and bring this one home, boys!”

The players whooped. Tyler stood, helmet on, eyes glowing with emotion, and threw his fist up in the air, shouting over them all. “For Tim!”

Several men echoed him, but the rest went silent as they spotted the general manager, standing in front of the doors that led out to the ice. Dean Richter took a deep breath, glancing over at Bower, who immediately stood as though to go to him. Richter shook his head, then walked over to Tyler and hooked an arm around his neck.

“For Tim.” Richter kept Tyler at his side as the players each took their turns stepping up to him, receiving a handshake or a pat on the shoulder. Raif went last, shaking Richter’s hand and taking his time before joining the others so he could hear what the GM had to say to his boy. Richter put both hands on Tyler’s shoulders. Shook his head again and pulled him into a rough hug. “My brother followed your career closer than the rest, Tyler. He’d be damn proud of you now; I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Richter.” Tyler stood there, watching the GM walk out of the locker room, and Raif could tell he was shaking. He pulled Tyler into his arms the second he turned. Kissed his cheek, his throat tightening as he tasted Tyler’s tears. Tyler held on to him, choking back a sob. “Fuck, Raif. We can’t lose now. He’s right. Tim would’ve told me I can do this!”

“You know what, Ty?” Raif tipped Tyler’s chin up with a fist, knowing Tyler needed his strength. He waited for those pale blue eyes to meet his before he spoke, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You can.”

The game was won, 3-0 with Bower earning a shutout. And Tyler scoring twice.

Carter and Demyan stood together, waiting for the team, an iPod hooked up to the stereo in the locker room. As soon as Raif entered the room behind Tyler, they blasted the music and started singing at the top of their lungs with the rest of the team quickly joining in to “Son of a Preacher Man.”

Tyler laughed and sang with them. After the song was done and the stereo was shut off, he went to his stall to change. Carter hovered, but this time, Raif didn’t mind. His boy was shaky and needed his friends. Tyler laughed at something Carter said, then started singing under his breath when White came over and distracted Carter.

Carter cocked his head, then barked out a laugh. “Okay, let’s make a deal. ‘Son of a Preacher Man’ is our new good luck song. We play it once before every game so long as you swear to never sing ‘Let it Go’ again. I don’t care if you start getting hat tricks because of it.”

“Fuck that! Let him sing what he wants! He’s on fire!” White shoved Carter playfully. Hard enough that if Mason hadn’t caught Carter, the young man would have hit the floor.

Demyan snorted. “You sing that song with a little girl twenty times a day for a week and see if you’re still saying that.”

“For The Cup? You’re telling me you wouldn’t?”

Raif chuckled when Demyan made a face, clearly not willing to argue White’s logic. It took Demyan shooting Raif a killing glare to remove him from the intimate atmosphere in the room. However well things were going between Raif and Tyler, Raif couldn’t let himself forget he was on the outside of the Cobras inner circle. Which hadn’t bothered him before, but seeing Tyler going from group to group, chatting up all the men, smiling as they squeezed him and ruffled his hair, made Raif wish he could cross the distance he’d inadvertently put between himself and the rest of the team.

Once he’d finished changing out of his uniform, Raif turned to go to the players’ lounge to wait for Tyler. A firm grip on his arm brought his head up to meet Mason’s level gaze.

“Why don’t you hang here with me for a bit?”

He was friendly with Mason, so he wouldn’t get defensive, but he couldn’t help being suspicious about the man suddenly wanting to spend time with him. “Is there a reason you do not want me in the lounge?”

Instead of answering, Mason jutted his chin toward the door. Where Zach was just stepping out with a quick glance over his shoulder at Demyan.

Yes, leaving at the same time as Zach, especially when Zach was clearly being duplicitous, would not make Raif any friends. He returned to his stall, opening his bag as though he’d forgotten something while speaking quietly to Mason, who stood at his side. “Thank you, but I’m not sure I understand. What makes you think I didn’t intend to slip out with him?”

“Did you?”

Eyes narrowed, Raif refused to dignify that with a reply.

“I didn’t think so. You’re not the fucking scumbag everyone seems to see you as. You hit on your ex, but you’ve backed off, and I’m thinking you know whatever you had is long gone.” Mason leaned against the side of Raif’s stall and shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes on Perron and Callahan. “Takes a while, but the bullshit will pass and maybe you and Demyan will be cool one day. Will happen a lot sooner if you let Pearce dig himself out of his own hole.”

“I had every intention of doing so.”

“Good. Then you’ll make sure Pearce can’t use you for an alibi anymore.” Mason frowned and Raif looked over his shoulder as a reporter came into the room, a woman with brassy red hair pulled into a tight bun and enough makeup to make her look like an old hooker despite her respectable gray skirt suit. A young cameraman with short, spiky brown hair followed at her heel.

“Pischlar, I have a few questions for you!” She flashed an overly bright smile as she walked up to Pischlar and shoved a handheld recorder in his face. The cameraman positioned himself to snap a few pictures. “Your coach said it would be okay.”

“Yeah, sure.” Pischlar ran his hands through his sweat-soaked hair, then held one up abruptly to White, who’d risen in front of his own stall at the other side of the locker room.

White folded his big arms over his chest. Callahan stood beside him, his expression making it clear he hadn’t been “the coach” who’d approved of the impromptu interview.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the allegations that you drugged the man you were found in the hotel room with? Have any charges been laid against you?”

Pischlar took a step back, lips parted. “What?”

“He gave me an exclusive interview, but I assumed he would have spoken to you first. It’s possible he’s looking for a settlement. Before this goes public, would you like to give me your side of the story? Where did you pick him up? Was he ‘in the closet’ like you were?”

“Hayley Turner?” Callahan crossed the room, grabbing the recorder from her. “You do not have clearance to interview my men.”

“Your men? Coach Walrye assured me his men would have no problem speaking to me,” the woman, Hayley—a name Raif was vaguely familiar with—said pleasantly, holding out her hand. “Now please return my recorder so I may conduct my interview.”

With a rough sound of disgust deep in his throat, Callahan gave her the recorder.

“Pisch ain’t got nothin’ else to say to you, lady.” White had joined Callahan, standing closer to Pischlar as though prepared to physically defend his friend. “You can give me the name of that guy though. I’d like to meet him.”

Hayley put her hand to her throat dramatically. “Mr. White, I think that would be a very bad idea. I heard you have to wear an ankle monitor even on the ice. Your violent tendencies seem to have gotten worse since the tragic death of Tim Rowe. He was a father figure to you, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.” White rolled his shoulders and swallowed. “He was a good man.”

“Of course, everyone knows that. But few know how close he was to you. You spent a lot of time with him and his wife. Of all the interviews done with the players about the beloved coach, there’s been nothing from you.” There was fake sympathy in her tone, but Raif sensed her moving in for the kill. The cameraman was standing a few feet away with the camera on White.

Raif exchanged a look with Mason. Mason shook his head as though to say he had no idea what the woman was digging for. Aside from the fight at the gym, White hadn’t been involved in anything that would interest the tabloids.

“I ain’t got much to say. Tim knew I loved him.”

“I’m sure he did. Only, considering how comfortable many of your teammates have been in coming out, perhaps now would be a good time to be honest about what exactly you lost?” She glanced over at the camera as though to include the “audience.” “Never once in your professional career have you been in a serious relationship—”

Callahan moved between Hayley and White, practically snarling at the woman. “Get the fuck out of my locker room!”

“There’s no need to be ashamed, Ian. You loved Tim. Perhaps Madeline as well? You wouldn’t be the first involved in that kind of relationship.” Hayley tried to get around Callahan, but her face paled when she finally met the coach’s black eyes. She tripped backward into the cameraman. “I have permission to be here. You can’t stop me from speaking to the men.”

“Maybe not, but I can throw you pretty far, you vindictive bitch.” Callahan herded the woman to the door with her cameraman scrambling out with her. “Which isn’t half what Silver will do if she finds out you’re here.”

“What is she saying?” White shook his head even as Pischlar drew him aside. “Does she think I’m gay? That I should’ve told Tim? I’m not—”

“I know, Bruiser. Forget her, she came to start shit, and Walrye let her.”

“She was starting shit with you. She’s got nothing on me.”

“That’s right. So don’t worry about it.”

The few men who’d remained in the locker room stared at White. Several spoke quietly amongst themselves. Tyler sat hard beside Carter, his eyes wide as though he was in shock. Ramos moved closer to Carter who had his white-knuckled fists pressed to his knees.

Raif had a feeling Ramos knew his sub needed to be calmed down before he opened his big mouth. Unfortunately, he was too late.

“You think we can’t hear what you assholes are saying? That cunt comes in here and talks shit about Tim, and now you’re wondering if it’s true? You all make me sick!” Carter threw his skates into his stall. “White was like a son to him. But he cared about all of us, that’s why it wasn’t obvious. He wasn’t hiding anything!”

“Shut up, Luke.” Tyler mumbled. “Not now.”

“Why not now? We used to have each other’s backs when Tim was around.”

Perron cleared his throat. “That hasn’t changed, Carter.”

“Hasn’t it? Tim wouldn’t have put up with that bitch even being in here. And you’re all going to act weird with White like you did with Pischlar? It’s bullshit!”

“Go home, Carter.” Callahan returned from getting rid of the vicious reporter, striding across the room and making a sharp motion with his hand before Carter could say another word. “Actually, all of you go home. What she said makes no difference. We’re here to play hockey. I see any more crap in here, and I’ll start making a long list of healthy scratches. We’ve got a lot of damn good players on the farm team ready to take the place of any one of you.”

The room emptied fairly quickly, leaving only a handful of men, including Raif, Tyler, White and Pischlar. Ramos had firmly led Carter out the second Callahan had finished his speech.

“They believe…she meant…” White rubbed his hand over his mouth, blinking fast. “And I told her I loved Tim. She’s gonna use that and make it seem like…shit. I gotta get out of here.”

Pischlar put his hand on White’s forearm. “White—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” White shoved Pischlar away from him, stopped as Pischlar’s hand hit the wall as though to make sure he hadn’t hurt his friend. Then he left the locker room, slamming the door behind him.

Tyler went over to White’s stall, picking up a set of keys. “How’s he getting home without these? Should I—”

Taking the keys, Pischlar shook his head. “He hasn’t gotten behind the wheel since Tim’s accident. I usually drive him, but he’ll walk tonight. Be good for him to cool off.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Tyler watched Pischlar leave, sinking down to the bench, not looking up as Raif approached him. Raif nodded to Callahan, waiting until the coach disappeared into his office before crouching down in front of Tyler.

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

“You’re not coming with me?” Tyler rubbed his thighs, a gesture Raif had come to realize he did in a self-soothing kind of way. “I mean, Laura should be there, but I’d like you to come and stay at my place and maybe have a drink or five with me. I don’t get stupid ideas about stealing cars when I’m drinking with a grown-up and Laura’s a grown-up, but she’s no fun to drink with and—”

“Breathe, Ty.” Raif pulled Tyler into his arms and gave him a firm hug. “If you need me, I will be there.”

“I need you. That was pretty fucked up.” Tyler put his forehead on Raif’s shoulder. “You think Luke is right? The team really don’t feel comfortable with the guys that came out?”

“I think there’s some tension with the team, but less since the three of you returned. The rookies we had fed off the head coach’s bigotry, and that made everyone uncomfortable. You will see that reduced now that Richter has made his intention to be with us more often clear.” Raif gently massaged the back of Tyler’s neck. “Luke is very private about his life, but people aren’t blind, and he doesn’t know how to deal with them knowing about his relationship with Ramos. He’s projecting his fears on the situation with Pischlar. And even more on the implication that White had something going on with Tim.”

“But he didn’t. And White’s like, straight straight.”

“Does it matter?” Raif asked as Tyler lifted his head. “Would it change your friendship with White if it were true?”

“No, but she made it sound like something dirty. I mean, after saying Tim was like a dad to him…”

“I agree. And it hurt White, but the team will stand behind him, and he will take it for what it was. An attempt to make a story out of nothing.” Raif hoped he was right. Even more when he saw the hope in Tyler’s eyes. The team had been such an integral part of the boy’s life for so long. He needed to believe in them.

“White and Pisch would make a cute couple. Kinda feel bad for Pisch. I think he’s in love with the big guy.” Tyler grinned and shook his head. “I’m glad things are simple with us.”

“Are they?” Raif straightened and grabbed his sports bag as Tyler retrieved his own. “You’re in a relationship with two women, exploring your attraction to me, and you consider that simple?”

“Compared to some of the shit I see around here? Hell yeah!” Tyler laughed as he shoved the locker room door open wide enough for them both to pass. “Chicklet says it’s okay, so it is. Not complicated.”

Well, that was one way to look at it. Raif smiled at the back of Tyler’s head, relieved that his boy had moved past the unpleasantness so quickly. He seemed to have a talent for it.

Halfway through the parking lot, Tyler’s phone rang. He answered, his whole face lighting up. “Hey, Chicklet! Did you see the game? Yeah, I did good, but then shit happened in the locker room, and you would have so ripped that chick into little pieces…”

The conversation continued as Raif loaded his and Tyler’s bags into the trunk of his car. Kept going as he drove Tyler home. Once they reached the front door of Tyler’s condo, Tyler stopped and held out the phone to Raif.

“She wants to talk to you.”

Raif took the phone and continued into the kitchen as Tyler disappeared into the back of the condo. “Hello?”

“Thank you. Sounds like you took real good care of my boy.” Chicklet sounded tired, but relieved. “From what I made out of his rambling, that could have gone bad.”

“He managed to dismiss his concerns fairly quickly.” Raif looked through the cabinets for a glass, filling it with water and taking a few gulps to get rid of the dryness in his throat, which had suddenly come to him when Chicklet had said “my boy.” Tyler was hers, but Raif had gotten into the habit of thinking of Tyler as his own.

“He’s good at that, but only when someone gives him a damn good reason to.”

“I only hope the team doesn’t prove me wrong.”

“They better not.”

“Enough of the team. You do realize I have been toying with your subs while you’ve been gone?” Raif needed to push Chicklet a little bit to get her honest reaction before he discussed the issues with Laura. They could help the subs together, but only if Chicklet saw him as more than a temporary distraction in her absence. “I expect they will tell you everything, but I’m surprised you’ve let it go on so long.”

“You’ve ‘toyed’ with them? Really, Raif?” She snorted. “I find that hard to believe. Laura has nothing but good things to say about you, and Tyler sounds happy.”

“I’m glad.”

“You’re worried. What’s going on?”

Perceptive. One of the many things Raif liked about Chicklet. He took another gulp of water and took a seat at the kitchen table. “How soon will you return?”

“Tomorrow. Why?”

“We will speak of it then. Tyler asked me to spend the night and have a few drinks with him.” He had to give her something so she wouldn’t worry too much. “Is Laura working tomorrow?”

“No. And she mentioned spending time with Tyler. This has to do with both of them, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Let’s just say I do not think Laura will mind my being here with Tyler. She would like it even more if Tyler had stayed at my place, but this is Tyler’s home.”

“Has she been nasty to him?”

“Not at all. I’ve seen to that.”

“Shit. Okay, I think I know what you’re getting at. We will talk this over tomorrow, but for tonight…let Laura have my room. Sleep with Tyler in his room. They need some space from one another while I figure this out. I have a bad feeling you’re seeing something I missed.”

“Which isn’t difficult, since I’m on the outside looking in.” Raif glanced toward the light flashing in the hall from the living room as he heard both Tyler and Laura laugh. He could understand how easy it would be to believe this was a peaceful household. To need to believe it even on the bad days. Chicklet hadn’t been gone so long to get a break from her subs. He had a feeling she was eager to come home.

“You’re not on the outside. And I think you know that.” Chicklet sighed. “Tell him…tell them both I love them and I’ll see them in the morning. Get them both to have a few drinks. I’ve made a fucking mess of things. I should have stayed and made sure—”

“You would have if you could. I am here, Chicklet. Nothing will hurt either one of them before you return. Laura shows all the discipline you’ve taught her and has had her job to distract her.”

“No surprise there. But Tyler only got back to the game today. He’d be a wreck if he didn’t have you.”

“True, but your boy speaks of you often, he misses you.”

“Our boy. I don’t think he’s mine alone anymore, Raif.”

“That’s not something that can be decided over the phone, Chicklet.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Maybe not, but knowing it’s true helps. He needs you tonight. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re holding him, that you’ve been looking out for him. And that’s pretty fucked up.”

“I disagree.” He smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “You love him. It’s a relief that I haven’t disappointed you in the way I’ve managed them both.”

“Actually, you’ve done such a fucking good job just talking to you makes me hot. I’m going to fuck you, Raif. What do you think of that? After having you taking care of my subs, all I can think of is holding you down on my bed to fuck the shit out of you.”

Closing his eyes, Raif pictured Chicklet over him, her hands on his wrists, her body rising and falling as she took him deep inside. He groaned as his dick hardened, wondering if he could get through the night after letting Tyler drink and not look for some relief in his boy’s tight body. “Now is a very bad time to tease me, woman.”

“Mister, it’s the perfect time. You’ve had your fun. I know you won’t touch either of them once they’ve had a few drinks. So get them all loose and relaxed, tuck them into bed, and stroke yourself hard while thinking about all the ways I’m gonna thank you for helping me out.”

“Are you always this cruel?”

“Yep. You gonna do things my way?”

He refused to answer that—she’d found too much pleasure in torturing him already. “Goodnight, Chicklet.”

“G’night, Raif.” The humor left her voice, leaving it sounding strained. “I mean it, eh? Thank you.”

Raif tightened his grip on the phone, wishing Chicklet was with him now so he could hold her. He had a feeling she needed it. “I know you do. And I am here.”

“Good. That’s good.” She cleared her throat and whispered, “Bye.”

He stayed seated for a few moments after hanging up, flipping the phone in his hand. Laughter again from the other room had him less concerned about the two subs than he probably should be. But they would be fine for a little while. The seemingly invincible Domme who loved them so much was a different story. She could joke and flirt as much as she wanted, but he could tell she was suffering from the distance between her and her subs. Especially now.

There wasn’t much he could do to change that, but he would see that the night went the way she wanted it. For the most part anyway. He found her stash of hard liquor in one of the kitchen cabinets and brought a bottle of peach schnapps, and another of Jack Daniel’s, to the living room on a tray with three tumblers and a bucket of ice from the bag in the fridge.

Laura gave him a polite smile, picking up the glass he’d set in front of her on the coffee table as he moved to pour the peach schnapps for her. She reached for the bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.”

He couldn’t fault a word she’d said, but the slight drawl to her words had him wondering if she’d really meant to say, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Tyler’s chuckle confirmed his suspicions. He grinned at Raif over the rim of his own glass of JD. “Bless your heart, Sir. So thoughtful of you to consider our little lady’s delicate taste buds.”

After draining and refilling her glass, Laura held it up to Tyler for cheers. “Isn’t he just lovely?”

“Absolutely!” Tyler quickly gulped down his whiskey as though it was very important that he keep up with Laura. “Precious man.”

Drinking his whiskey slowly to enjoy the burn, Raif sat on the sofa beside Laura, looking from her to Tyler, who sat on the floor across from them. “You are aware that after spending a few months listening to Perron’s colorful abuse of the English language, I do know when I’m being insulted in the polite ‘Southern’ way. I would proceed with caution, pets.”

“We’re just playing, Raif.” Tyler gave Raif his naughty angel smirk. “You didn’t bring out the alcohol because you want us to behave.”

“This is true.” Raif relaxed into the plush sofa, absently running his fingers over the soft beige microfiber. Much more comfortable than his own leather sofa—he’d look in to buying something similar when he found a more permanent residence.

The thought had Raif going still with his glass tilted to his lips. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d considered anywhere being a place he’d consider staying long-term. Not that he’d ever really longed for a place to call “home.” His best memories were of travelling with one of his parents, sleeping in a different bed every night. Not of being left behind at “home” with his grandfather.

He shook his head and threw back the rest of his whiskey. Enough of that. He set his glass down and spent the next hour watching both Laura and Tyler drink way too much. Laura ended up on the floor beside Tyler, her head on his lap and a sleepy smile on her lips. Not once tonight had he seen the woman who’d come to him with a plan to remove Tyler from her home and from her life. She’d been sweet and funny, and Raif had found himself enjoying her company.

But he refused to let his guard down. Not that she posed any threat to Raif, he had no illusions about her. His boy, however, had let her deep into his heart. Tyler stroked her hair as she drifted off to sleep, and the tenderness in his eyes reminded Raif how dangerous Laura truly was.

“I think she’s done for the night,” Tyler whispered, not moving. “I don’t wanna wake her up though.”

“I have her.” Raif stood, bending down to lift Laura up carefully in his arms. He’d much rather make her walk, but Tyler would be angry if Raif suddenly behaved cold toward her. So Raif held her close, hardly breathing as she stirred in her sleep. She pressed her head against the curve of his neck as he carried her. Swaying a little, Tyler led the way to the master bedroom.

After tucking Laura into bed, Raif was able to breathe a little easier. He took hold of Tyler’s wrist and led him out to the hall.

Tyler braced his hand on the wall, blinking as he looked up at Raif, as though he couldn’t see him clearly. “Umm…wanna go to my room? She won’t hear nothing if we close the door.”

“She’ll hear nothing if we leave it open.” Raif hooked his arm around Tyler’s neck, pulling him close to steady him as they made their way to the second bedroom. “I won’t take advantage of you. I’ve made that clear.”

Letting out an irritated huff, Tyler turned to Raif and tugged at the buttons on his shirt. “What about me takin’ advantage of you?”

A gentle shove was all it took to send Tyler sprawling onto the queen-sized bed. Raif laughed as Tyler tried to sit back up, then groaned and simply lay there. Quickly undoing Tyler’s jeans, Raif pulled them off and tossed them into the full hamper beside the door.

“Is real comfy. Come ’ere.” Tyler rolled to his side and reached blindly for Raif, his eyes already closed. “You’re stayin’.”

“I am.” Raif shut off the light, carefully removed his own clothes, then piled them, all neatly folded, on the dresser. In only his boxers, he climbed into the bed, adjusting Tyler like a heavy, warm body pillow. He was grateful to hear Tyler snoring softly within minutes. It meant he could let himself sleep knowing he’d done all that Chicklet had asked. All except for torture himself for her amusement. Holding Tyler all night challenged all of Raif’s noble intentions.

But he doubted she’d mind. She didn’t need another in her life following her lead.

She needed someone to walk by her side to clear the path for them all.