Sunday, July 8, 2018

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: Iron Eagle Gym by Sean Michael Part 1


The New Boy #1
Summary:
Lance Packet just got a contract to shoot an erotic BDSM deck of cards; the only problem is finding models. So far everyone he’s interviewed thinks he’s looking for sex for hire. Then in walk three perfect examples of men: Tide and his friends, Tyrone and Bran.

Tide Germaine is a model and a Dom. He and his best friend Tyrone opened The Iron Eagle Gym as a place for gay men in the lifestyle to work out, do scenes, and congregate with like-minded men. The modeling is just another job for Tide, but it soon turns into a grand seduction as Tide falls for the shy, self-conscious photographer. The problem is Lance doesn’t believe he’s in Tide’s league, and he’s not at all sure about the Dom and sub thing.

It’s not going to be easy, but Tide’s going to have to convince Lance he belongs at Tide’s side as both lover and sub.

The Perfect Sub #2
Summary:
While new couple Tide and Lance spend time deepening their relationship and further introducing Lance to the joys and vagaries of being a sub, established couple Tyrone and Bran discover that they still have a thing or two to learn as well.

A new job finds Bran run off his feet, and a visit to the eye doctor leads to the discovery of a brain tumor. Bran is terrified. He strives to be the perfect sub for his beautiful master and sees the tumor as a personal failing as he tries to handle every last phone call, e-mail, and text that comes in, no matter how early or late. When Tyrone finally finds out about the tumor Bran’s been keeping a secret, he realizes he’s been taking his sub for granted, and he works to rediscover his boy and their relationship. Of course, that’s easier said than done given that Bran’s job is taking up all his time and he would rather pretend the tumor just doesn’t exist than actually deal with it.

It's going to take all of Tyrone's prowess as a master to help guide Bran through these troubled waters.

The Luckiest Master #3
Summary:
When Master Damien Richardson (Day to his friends) takes over the front desk manager job at the Iron Eagle Gym, he knows he’s going to need an assistant. But finding the right person for the job is harder than he thought it would be. When he meets Saw, he thinks he’s found the solution to all his problems, and maybe something more.

Sawyer Whitehead lost his master to a tragic car accident some years ago, and since then one opportunity after another has gone sour on him. Thoroughly convinced he’s cursed and a jinx to everything and everyone he touches, he refuses to officially become Day’s assistant because he knows that as soon as he does, something terrible will happen. He’s even more determined not to get involved with Day, despite his attraction, because it would kill him to be responsible for tragedy befalling the lovely man.

Day must convince Saw that he’s not cursed and that together, they can face any challenge that comes their way—in both their professional and personal partnerships.


The New Boy #1
Chapter One
LANCE WAS so fucking tired of uppity assholes and psychopaths who thought “male fetish model” meant “I pay for sex.”

He’d interviewed a dozen guys and they’d all been utter assholes and utterly not photogenic. He had a client willing to pay enough to cover his rent for three years for a deck of BDSM cards. A whole deck worth of images. All he needed were some hot, gorgeous guys willing to get kinky in front of the camera.

He wasn’t holding out a lot of hope for this upcoming interview either. Tide. Who the fuck was called Tide? A porn star, that was who.

Lance was tempted to just cancel the fucking interview. But damn, three years’ rent. Three years to build his business. Who could fucking walk away from that?

Still, he sat a few more minutes and was actually about to get up and leave when three guys walked into the coffee shop.

Oh God. They were stunning. A big black man, a small platinum-blond super-tanned twink, and the most beautiful man he’d ever fucking seen.

Oh please be here for me, he thought. Pretty please.

The beautiful one with the blue eyes looked over at him and smiled, headed his way. “Lance Packet?”

Oh, fucking A. Yes.

“I am.” Lance stood up, held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Tide. The same. This is Tyrone and Bran.”

Tide’s hand was big, swallowing his up in the most amazing grip.

“Tide.” Whoa. These guys were stunning and Lance was… so totally not.

Tide pulled up the chair next to him, while Tyrone pulled out the other two, making sure Bran was seated before sitting himself.

“So you’re doing an erotic calendar?” Tide asked, taking the initiative.

“No. No, I’m doing a deck of cards. A fetish deck.” With leather and chains and anal and…. God, he was never going to survive this. Not with these stunning men as potential models.

“Really? Oh, that sounds very interesting.” Tide had an amazing voice, low and warm.

“I have a few questions. Uh. You’re comfortable with that idea? Fetish, I mean. This client has very specific ideas.” Lance pushed over the illustrations his client had sent.

Tide looked at them and hummed, then passed them to Tyrone and Bran.

Lance knew he was blushing, but he couldn’t help it. These guys were the first ones who seemed like they might be anywhere close to workable, and they were sexy as hell.

“These are ambitious. You’ll need the right people to pull them off.” Tyrone sounded like he knew what he was talking about. “You need three people who are… close.” Tyrone looked at Tide and grinned.

“Yes. I need men who aren’t ashamed of their bodies or their arousal.”

Tyrone stroked Bran’s shoulder, like he was petting a big cat. “There is no shame for us in what we do. And we’ve worked with Tide before, giving demonstrations. Some in these exact poses.”

“I’m imagining a few sessions to get all the poses and then one for reshoots. That is, if you’re willing, of course.” Lance couldn’t believe he had possibly found exactly the men he needed. He just might get that payday after all.

“It looks like it’s going to be a fascinating collection in the end,” Tide noted.

Tyrone nodded, nudged Bran. “Boy?”

“It looks exciting, Master. Truly. But only if it’s for art, not porn.”

Master? Had Bran said Master?

“Yeah, we don’t do porn.” Tide shot the comment in Lance’s direction.

“This is for a private collection. I’m selling him the deck, a single deck, not the original files.” Those were his.

“We’d want a copy of the deck as well.” Tide looked through the sketches again. “And a guarantee that any other prints would need to be approved by us.”

“I can offer that. I mean, if it goes well, I mean, I’d totally be open to hiring you for more photos.” Lance took a deep breath and told himself to get it together. “I mean, would you guys like a coffee?”

Tide smiled warmly. “Sure. I’d love a coffee.”

Tyrone pulled out his wallet and handed Bran a twenty. “You know what we like, boy.”

“I’ve got it,” Lance insisted. “You just want a drip or what?” He was so nervous he couldn’t hold it together. Professional. Totally professional. He was entirely professional.

“Don’t worry about it. Bran likes feeling useful.” Tyrone grabbed Bran’s hair and pulled his head back for a kiss.

Lance stared, the full-on kiss shocking. Oh God. Don’t spring a woody. Don’t.

When the kiss was over, Bran got up, looking smug, and Tyrone swatted him on the ass.

“Show-off,” Tide muttered.

Suddenly Lance wasn’t sure if he was supposed to get Tide’s coffee or not.

Tyrone chuckled, settling back in his chair and turning his attention back to Lance. “So when are you wanting to do this and how much do you pay?”

“I can pay you each two thousand dollars and I’d like to get all the pictures done in four or five days, with the option of picking up an extra day if I go through it and find I don’t have enough pictures for all fifty-two cards.”

Tide and Tyrone looked at each other, some sort of silent communication going on between them. Then Tide turned back to him again, smiled. “We need a contract, of course, but we’re in.”

“Do you mind if I take a few shots today, just to check things?” He had the contracts with him and he pushed them across the table.

Tyrone took them and started reading them over.

It was Tide who answered him. “I think doing a few shots today is a great idea. It’ll let us see how you work, what we can expect.”

“It doesn’t have to be formal. We’ve got a nice sun.”

“Yeah? There’s a park across the street and Bran no doubt got our coffees to go.”

“Okay. Cool. Let me grab another drink and I’ll meet you guys in the park.” Lance couldn’t believe he was actually going to get to shoot these amazing studs.

“You got it.”

Tyrone gathered up the contracts and stood, arm going around Bran as he got back to their table with three takeout coffee cups. “We’re going to the park, boy.”

“Yes, Master.” Not even a question. Not a worry.

The contrast of their skin was amazing too; they complemented each other beautifully and would photograph stunningly.

“Quite the pair, aren’t they?” Tide asked.

“They’re striking together, yes.”

Tide went with him to the counter. “So how did you come across this particular project?”

“I have a client who recommended me. We worked together in college and she thought I’d be the right choice for the job. I sent my resume and portfolio, and he loved my work.” It was just like getting any other job, but with way more cock.

“You do a lot of nude males?” Tide handed the cashier a five, paying for his coffee.

“Oh. I. Thank you.” How dear. “I’ve done some. I mostly do fine art pieces.”

“You’ll have to show me your portfolio.” Tide sounded genuinely interested.

“Of course.” Absolutely. That was totally reasonable.

Tide put his hand on Lance’s lower back as they headed out of the coffee shop and it felt like he’d been hit with a live wire.

Don’t spring wood. Think about mud. Bugs. Roadkill. It occurred to him that he was going to have to jack off thirty times before he shot these guys.

They joined Tyrone and Bran across the street in the park, the sunlight highlighting the way they contrasted each other.

Lance nodded. “Like I said, these are totally just quick shots. I just want to”—have some distance between me and you gorgeous bastards—“see what turns up.”

He pulled his camera out and started shooting, not worrying about the light or much of anything. It was where he felt most comfortable anyway, and it was way easier to feel professional with the lens between him and these stunning men.

“You want us to do anything in particular?” Tide asked, seeming unconcerned about the camera.

“No. No, just hang out. No worries.”

“You sure?” asked Tide. “No kissing? Posing?”

At the word kissing, Tyrone and Bran totally locked lips.

Lance let himself just shoot and not be a part of it, not think about anything but shapes and angles and light. It was so much safer back here.

“Way to make everyone else jealous,” teased Tide, rolling his eyes.

Laughing, Tyrone grabbed the collar of Tide’s T-shirt and pulled him into a kiss that looked like it should have smoke.

This was going to be the best fucking set of shots ever. Lance couldn’t wait to see the results.

When the kiss broke, he got an amazing shot of them looking at each other, fondness in their eyes. He’d let them have that one. Obviously they were all… close.

Tide began mugging after that, doing typical model poses for him. Lance chuckled. There was something about Tide, something bright and fascinating. The man was looking at him through the lens, too. Like Tide could see right through it.

No. No way. This was his defense against the world.

Still, he felt Tide’s slow, easy smile all the way to his toes. Lance sighed softly. God, that was pretty.

Tyrone and Bran sat together on the grass, talking quietly.

“So. I’ve got Tide’s e-mail. Can you guys all let me know, after you read your contracts, if you’re interested and when good times are? I have a budget for supplies, but I’ll have to get with my client to see exactly what he’d be interested in.”

“We have some of the things you might need,” Tyrone told him. “So don’t buy anything without checking first.”

“Absolutely. I’m sure someone has a list.” Lance knew in general what might be a BDSM prop, but he was sure his client had some specific ideas and he was in no way an expert on the topic himself.

“You don’t have a list of your own? We’ll supply you with one,” Tyrone offered.

Lance shook his head, though. Like he had any idea what exactly they’d need. He’d put that on the client and pick up what was needed once he had that in hand. He’d been having so much trouble finding the right guys for the work, he hadn’t asked for a list, feeling it would have been premature—putting the cart before the horse.

Tide took his hand. “We’ve got you covered.”

His hand began to sweat, to tremble. “Th-thanks.”

“We’ll e-mail you our agreement and contracts later today,” Tyrone suggested.

“Sounds good. Let me know when you’re free, and we’ll make arrangements.”

“We sure will.” Tide gave him a once-over that he could totally feel.

“I should go. I’m so glad you guys showed. So glad.” Utterly freaking out, but glad.

“It was really nice to meet you. Dream of us.” Tide looked at him like he was edible.

“I. What?” He lifted his camera, putting it between them and shooting a picture.

“The project,” Tide said. “Dream up all the poses you want so we’re all ready to go.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Have a great day. Thank you.”

Looking at him through the lens, Tide brought his hand up and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”

“Oh. I. Bye. Good-bye.”

He waved and ran, his cock hard as nails. Forget thirty times, he was going to have to jack off a million times before they shot anything at all.

The Perfect Sub #2
Chapter One
LANCE TOOK some pictures, trying for different angles, getting some building shots. He never knew when he’d get a really good image, and any that were just fair could go up on a stock photo site. He was early for his lunch with Bran, but it was too pretty a day to be stuck in his stupid condo and he’d been there all morning already. Silly, but after just a couple hours, he missed Tide desperately. He had a souvenir in his ass too. One that shifted with every movement, reminding him of his amazing lover.

It looked like Bran was early too, because there he was, stunning in his tight jeans and T-shirt, peroxide white hair in artful disarray. Bran was all compact muscles with great definition, his skin dark gold from the sun, his blue eyes shining in his face.

God, Lance wished he was half as pretty as Bran. He was little, slender, sort of a hipster geek. Not beautiful. Bran was stunning, though.

Bran caught sight of him and beamed, and with that Bran looked even more beautiful.

Lance waved, Bran’s smile contagious. “Hey there.” He snapped a shot. Bran stopped and posed for him.

Bran dropped the pose and came over to hug him. “Hey, honey, you look so happy.”

“I am.” It had been an amazing weekend. His balls were still tender.

Still smiling, Bran kissed his cheeks. “Good.” He took Lance’s arm, and together they went to the restaurant.

“Have you ever been here?” Lance asked, since Bran had suggested the place. “I read online that they have good fries.”

Bran shook his head. “I saw a review that said I had to come, so I have.”

“Cool.” The lunch rush was over, so they didn’t have to wait for a table. The place was bright, clean, cheerful, and they were seated at a booth by the window, the cushions on the seats still holding their spring. Thank God, because hello, plug in his ass. That did not mix well with hard seats.

Bran pondered the menu. “They’ve got a bison burger. I’ve never had one before, and I’d love to try…. I’ll have to do extra crunches, though.”

“It’s meat. Isn’t that your current thing? Meat, meat, meat?” Lance wanted the french onion soup.

“Yeah, but it’s got the buns and sweet potato fries, and I want the whole experience.” Bran grinned. “Besides, I like crunches.”

“Yeah?” Who liked crunches?

“Uh-huh. Master Tyrone makes a game of it.” Bran wriggled in his seat.

Lance’s cheeks heated. “Oh. Oh!”

Bran chuckled, winked. “Besides, have you seen my master? When he’s all hot and sweaty from working out….”

“Bran!” Lance chuckled, not sure where to look. His Tide was gorgeous; he didn’t need to imagine what other men looked like all hot and sweaty.

“What? I love him and I think he’s hot—it’s all good.”

“He is a good-looking man,” Lance offered. “Almost as pretty as Tide.”

“Oh-ho!” Bran cackled. “You already know the first rule of hanging out with another sub—‘my master is always the best.’”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do. Tide is my best, for sure.”

Bran nodded. “My master always is.”

Bran gave him a wink, and Lance grinned back. It felt good to play, to relax with someone. Everything with Tide was intense, which was great, but hard work too.

Their waitress came by with two glasses of water, and they ordered Cokes and the food they wanted. Lance ignored the way his stomach was trying to growl. Breakfast had been a long time ago.

“So, have you traveled a lot?” Bran asked as he grabbed his water glass.

“Not really. A couple of road trips in college. You?”

“With Master Tyrone, yes. I’ve gotten pretty good at organizing stuff,” Bran admitted. “And this coming trip we’re going on is fairly typical, aside of course from the addition of you and Tide.”

“Well, I’m not bad at it, so I’ll be able to help.” He wasn’t useless. He’d been running his own business for a couple years now.

“Cool. This is going to be so much fun!”

“I hope so. Are we going to get to stop in hotels along the way?” They were going to some sort of exercise equipment trade show, and Lance was coming along to shoot the show.

“Yeah. We need to be there on Friday and Saturday, but if we leave on Tuesday, we can make stops on the way. We need to look at a map and see what fun places we can find to stop at.”

“I can do that. Are you more biggest-ball-of-string or fancy-museum people?” Lance asked.

“Both!” Bran bounced. “Seriously, if it’s out there, we’re going to have fun at it.”

“Cool. I’ll make a list. Maybe… maybe there’s a sex toy museum or something.”

Bran’s mouth dropped open, and then he clapped his hands. “Yes! God, still waters run deep, don’t they?”

Lance ducked his head, but inside he was so, so pleased. He wasn’t a total dork.

Bran grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “I was hoping we’d be friends, now I’m sure we will be! If there’s such thing as a sex toy museum, we will find it, I swear. And I’ll make sure our masters know it was all your idea.”

“I think Tide would like that.”

The waitress came by and told them their food would be along shortly, flirting madly. Bran flirted back outrageously. Lance took pictures of Bran, of the setup on the table, the shadow on the napkin.

“You see the whole world through that camera, don’t you?” Bran asked.

“Uh-huh. Makes things clear.”

“That’s really cool. And I’ve seen your stuff. I know how great you are.”

“Thanks.” Photography was the one thing he was really good at. “I have great inspiration.”

“I know that’s true from when you were taking pictures of Masters Tyrone and Tide.”

“And you. It was all amazing.” And Lance had been paid handsomely for the sexy images.

“It was fun. And like we said, if you ever want more, you know we’d be willing,” Bran reminded him.

“They were for a specific client, but thanks.”

“So what’s your favorite part?” Bran asked, leaning across the table.

“About photography?”

“Sure.”

“I like finding the unexpected images, you know. Things you didn’t know you saw.” Lance loved that, the accidental pictures.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Lance shrugged. “Sometimes it’s a shape. Usually it’s just someone caught off guard.”

“Cool! And what about the lifestyle?”

“The lifestyle?” Lance didn’t follow. He’d only shot Tide and Tyrone and Bran.

“You know, you and Tide and the contract.”

“Oh, my favorite part?” When Bran nodded, Lance shrugged again; it was all good. “I think it’s the way he looks at me.” He loved that, that Tide saw him.

“Oh….” Bran’s expression got soft.

“Yeah. It’s like… magic.”

Bran nodded. “It is.”

“What about you? What’s your favorite thing?” Lance asked.

“Working out with him. We both get all hot and sweaty and things happen.”

“Did he have the gym when you met him?”

Bran shook his head. “Not when we first met. That was one of the reasons why Tyrone and Tide decided to open it, though. Tyrone and me got caught in the showers a few times and kicked out of a couple different gyms.”

“And now there’s a floor for it, right?”

“Yeah. You’ve been there. The second floor is where you don’t get kicked out for adding a little slap and tickle to your workout.” Bran grinned and wriggled in his seat.

Lance nodded, but totally didn’t wriggle, not with that plug in his ass. The Iron Eagle’s first floor was just a gym. The second floor was… private. “What about the other two floors?”

“Offices and beds if members need somewhere to stay. And the top floor is for Doms only so they can have a ‘sub-free zone.’” Bran put air quotes around the last words.

“Do they have a Dom-free zone?” That seemed fair.

“One of the rooms on the third floor is large and set aside for our space. But Doms are allowed to come in for their boys.”

“Is that fair?” He figured he could ask Bran. Maybe it was.

“I think so.” Bran shrugged. “It’s how it is. Some subs are way hard work, and Doms need a place to decompress. If I need to decompress, I turn to Tyrone.”

“Huh.” It was a whole new way of thinking, a whole new fascinating world.

“And sometimes they need to talk about Dommy stuff. Besides, while they’re busy in the Doms-only space, we subs are left to play.” Bran winked and it seemed very naughty.

“You’re wicked,” Lance accused.

Bran nodded, not looking the least bit put out. “Now you see why Tyrone might need some downtime.”

“Yeah. Tide has that when I’m working and staying at my apartment.”

“I bet he doesn’t let you do that often,” Bran noted.

“I don’t love it, but I have to work.” He might have been paid enough for the deck he’d put together using Tide, Tyrone, and Bran, but he had to stay current, had to keep working if he was going to continue to make a living through his photography.

“Are you two going to move in together?” Bran asked.

Lance shrugged. “He hasn’t asked. Maybe one day?”

“I hope so. You two belong together.” Bran said it like it was a fait accompli.

Lance hoped so. “We have to learn more about each other, I think.”

“You’ve made a commitment to each other already.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was….” It had been amazing, the first time they’d barebacked.

Bran got that soft look on his face again. “You two are just so sweet together. You have no idea how happy I am Master Tide has found someone.”

“I’m glad it was me.” Lance couldn’t imagine if Tide had been taken.

“Oh, honey, yes. That’s what I meant.”

He surprised himself by reaching out, grabbing Bran’s hand. “Thank you.”

Bran squeezed his hand and held on. “You’re the perfect man for him, for our family.”

“Thank you. I mean it. I’ve been lonely.” He wasn’t sure how, but he knew it was true.

“Well, we aren’t going to let you be anymore. You have my number now, so if you ever want to talk, I’ll pick up.”

“Ditto. I’ve got your back.”

Bran nodded. “That’s how it works!”

The waitress brought their food and asked if they wanted anything else.

“Can I have a side of toast, please?” Lance asked.

“Of course! You can have anything you like.” She was still flirting with them. Well, with him if he was honest. Which was kind of weird. He wasn’t used to anyone flirting with him, especially girls.

“Thanks.” He looked at Bran, wide-eyed.

“What? You’re adorable. This little hipster dude.”

Bran was the good-looking one, and Lance told him so. “You’re gorgeous, though.”

Bran laughed. “The fact that you have no idea makes you even hotter.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just blushed and ducked his chin.

“Eat up, honey. Your soup looks really good. If you like onions.” Bran wrinkled his nose.

“I love onions. You don’t?”

“Nope.” Bran put pepper and salt on his burger, and a single drop of ketchup.

“Huh.” Lance ate, glad that he didn’t have to worry about what he put in his mouth.

Bran was all moans as he ate the burger, licking his lips after every single bite. Lance started chuckling. It seemed to him like Bran enjoyed everything.

Bran looked at him. “What?”

“I love how you love life.”

Bran beamed at him. “You’re a sweetheart.”

“I want to learn how to do that.”

“Love life?” Bran asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”

“It’s not something you learn, it’s just something you do, you know? When you’re happy. Tyrone makes me happy.” Bran smiled.

“Tide makes me happy too. Really. I just worry a lot.”

“You’ve got to give your worries to Tide.”

He met Bran’s gaze. “How? I’m not being a bitch. How can I do it?”

“You tell him, and when he says he’s got it, you believe him and try not to worry about it anymore. It’s not always easy, but I’ve gotten better at it.”

“You have to work at it, though?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, especially at the start. I think the real secret is you’ve got to choose it, you know? Make a conscious effort to choose to be happy.”

“Choose to be happy.” Lance shook his head; he’d have to think about that.

Bran licked a bit of grease from his thumb and nodded. “Yep. Choose.”

“Okay. I might… maybe I could try.”

“That’s the spirit. It really is a choice, honey. And you’ve got Tide. That should make it easy to choose to be happy.” Bran ate a sweet potato fry.

“He is amazing, isn’t he?” Lance couldn’t stop grinning whenever he thought about Tide.

“You see? It’s easy to choose happy with him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m starting to get it.”

“It’s easy if you try.” Bran winked and grabbed up his burger again, taking a huge bite.

Lance turned his attention to his soup, dipping his bread into it when the waitress brought it over for him. He and Bran smiled at each other now and then, but their eating basically put an end to their discussion. When they’d finished, Lance ordered a cup of coffee, pulling out his tablet to make notes about their trip.

“So let’s stop somewhere different the first few nights,” Bran suggested. “Because we’ll be more willing to be up and going at the beginning. Then we should have a day of pampering at the hotel when we get in for the convention.”

“I like that idea. We might spend a day after just in town too. Exploring.”

“Perfect, by then we’ll be ready for seeing more than just the convention rooms.” Bran gave him a warm smile. “You’re a great planning partner, Lance.”

“Thanks. I’m excited to have a trip to plan.” They were going to have a ball.

Bending over his tablet, he and Bran spent the better part of an hour planning their route, their stops, and making reservations.

Then Bran looked up. “My master has some errands for me. Grocery shopping. Wanna come?”

“Sure.” Lance paid his half of the tab and grabbed his camera bag. “I’d love to. Let me ask Tide if I’m coming over tonight and if he needs anything.”

“I bet you are and he does.” Bran gave him a grin.

“I hope so.” Lance called his lover.

Tide answered right away. “Hey, darling.”

“Hello, Tide. I was…. Bran is heading to the store and I didn’t know if… I mean, I’m going with him and if you needed something….” He felt like a total dork now.

“That sounds like fun. Why don’t you pick up some stuff for supper. We’ll cook together tonight.”

He smiled. Oh yay. Cool. “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah—come home after you’re done. We’ll cook supper, hang out. Make sure you bring like a toothbrush and stuff.”

“I have my travel bag there in the closet, just in case.” Because he wanted to be there and comfortable. That was okay, right?

“Perfect.” Tide’s voice dropped, became intimate. “You are still wearing my plug, yes?”

Lance felt his cheeks heat. “Tide!”

“You’re not on speaker, are you?” Tide asked.

“No!”

Tide chuckled softly. “Then all you need to do is answer yes or no, darling. Bran has no idea what my side of the conversation is.”

“Okay. Okay. Yes.” God, his cheeks were going to burst into flame.

“Excellent. See you soon, hmm?” Tide sounded so wicked.

“Yeah. Soon. Love.”

“Love you, darling.”

Lance beamed as he hung up the phone.

Bran gave him a knowing smile. “You two are so cute.”

“Yeah. We are. I need to pick out something for supper and maybe a pastry for breakfast….”

Laughing, Bran linked arms with him and they headed for the grocery store.

It felt like magic, like Lance had a friend, a family. A place to belong.

The Luckiest Master #3
Chapter One
DAMIEN RICHARDSON sat behind his desk, working on the front desk schedule. Every now and then, he’d glance up at the front desk to make sure the boy who was on duty, whose name he’d forgotten at the moment—and he put that down to the fact that he had eight boys’ names in front of him as he wrestled with who was available when—was doing okay.

It would be easier as he got to know the boys, know their schedules and how they worked and who did a better job for longer stretches and who hated working mornings, etc.

Day’d only been on the job for a day and a half, and while there was an enormous amount of work to be done—including hiring a full-time assistant—the last person in the job had been extremely organized and so far he’d been able to find everything he needed.

They had to find a new way to work the schedule, though, because this business of notes here and there regarding availability was not on. These guys needed to have regular hours. Oh, the odd time when someone had an appointment or whatever and couldn’t work their usual availability was fine, but how the hell was he supposed to schedule around constantly revolving availabilities?

He shook his head as he found yet another note about someone only being able to come in for two hours on Wednesday and Thursday the following week. Nobody had two-hour shifts, that was ridiculous. You couldn’t work for at least four hours in a row, you didn’t get put on the schedule.

He finally had it wrestled under control and hit Save. Then he did a quick double check before sending it to the boys and the boss. He glanced at his watch. Okay, it had taken him the better part of the morning, but it was done now and he was feeling rather accomplished.

Bran, the preternaturally organized little hardbody that he’d replaced, wandered in, wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. “Hey there, Day. How’s it going? Is Master Tyrone here yet?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I saw him come in about an hour ago.” The stunning black man was hard to miss. “He was headed toward the locker room.”

“Thank you. Do you need anything, sir?” What a truly decent guy.

“Thank you, but so far no. It’s been easy to slip into the job. I don’t suppose you want the assistant position?” He could use someone sooner than later if he didn’t want to spend all his evenings working overtime, and Bran wouldn’t have to be trained.

“You’d have to speak to my master about that, and I’m fairly sure he’s going to say no.” Bran gave him a little smile like the sub knew some amazing secret. “He likes having me as his personal assistant, and he loves having me at home.”

Now there was a successful pair. Day smiled back at the boy. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

What he needed was to find someone as organized as Bran was for the position. Or at least someone eager to please.

“No, sir. Please, honestly, holler if I can help.” He was given a warm, happy smile.

“I will—thank you very much.”

He watched Bran leave, then turned his attention to the boy at the desk. Archie, that was it. Like the comic books—you’d think he’d have been able to remember that.

“How are things up front?”

“Fine now that Mister I’m Too Big for My Britches is gone. He was a total fuckup. We’re all glad he got fired.”

“Put up the sign that says back in five minutes and come here and close the door, please.” He stayed calm, but he’d be nipping that attitude in the bud.

Archie’s eyes went wide, but he did as he was told.

“Sit.”

Archie did.

“First of all, he didn’t get fired, he left the position. And your so-called fuckup is being replaced by myself and a full-time assistant and possibly a part-timer as well. He managed to do the job of three people for a long time. Besides which, even if any of what you said was true—which it is not—I don’t ever want to hear you speaking about anyone like that again. Especially a member of the gym. It’s a fireable offense.”

If this was his boy, he’d have Archie over his lap in seconds for a firm spanking.

Archie’s eyes went wide. “I. He. I.”

“What? Did he kill your puppy?” Day asked.

“No. No, everybody hates him. He’s got the perfect master, he’s the perfect sub, and he’s old. It’s not fair.”

Old?

Seriously?

Bran had to be what? Late twenties? Early thirties, tops?

Christ.

“If he has the perfect master, it’s because he earned it by being the perfect sub. You would have better luck finding a master if you weren’t petty and snide. Neither of those are traits I’m looking for. I doubt any master is.”

He took a breath. “And life isn’t over once you turn twenty-five.” He hazarded a guess as to what the line was for “old.” “If you’re lucky, you find someone to grow old with, to deepen your master/sub relationship with.”

“Everyone knows masters look for the young guys. It’s like Saw. No one wants him. No one ever will again, and he’s gonna die alone and it sucks.”

Jesus, did all the boys here believe that?

“I’m not looking for a certain type of boy—I’m looking for the right boy. I think you’ll find there’s more masters like me than not.”

“I hope you’re right. I really do. Can I go now?”

“You can. Just make sure there’s no more gossip or meanness.” He wasn’t going to allow that from his staff.

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

Except he had the feeling they still would.

He waved the boy off, watching as Archie returned to his post at the front desk. Then he went back to the next thing on his list. God knew there was enough that he didn’t have time to sit and worry about who was saying what.

Author Bio:
Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and persuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago."

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.


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EMAIL: seanmichaelwrites@gmail.com



The New Boy #1

The Perfect Sub #2

The Luckiest Master #3