Never Too Late for Love
Bob had a thought.
“Is the place you got your tattoo still there? In LA?”
Cris had deep, expressive brown eyes, sometimes intense, sometimes playful. Right now, those brown eyes studied Bob.
“Why?”
“You know why, Sir.”
Yes, it was supposed to be vanilla time this week.
Bob wanted Cris to know how serious he was.
Cris still studied him.
“He took you,” Bob added. “You can take me.”
Cris squeezed his hand, hard. “I’ll check when we get there,” he quietly said. “If not there, I’ll find someplace.”
Was it selfish to want to match Cris? Maybe.
Maybe if Tilly saw he was all in for real and not going anywhere, it might help her drop her restriction faster. It was a visceral need quickly growing in Bob to prove to them he was fine with this new world order.
He had no concerns about his future, because he’d planned for retirement. He was renting out his condo and wasn’t selling it. So all he’d have to worry about was the sixty-day escape clause if he had to get renters out because he needed to move back there. This wasn’t about not wanting to lose them because of materialistic reasons, or feeling insecure about his financial future.
He didn’t want to lose them because he knew it’d break his heart, and he was tired of having his heart broken.
Bob had special things with Landry and was developing more all the time. He had special things with Tilly—including getting to have swaths of time without sharing her.
Bob needed this tangible connection to Cris, the one who risked getting short-shrifted in terms of time spent together.
Cris and Landry took KC with them to work on Monday while Bob spent the day at Tilly’s office with her, getting to know the people he hadn’t yet met in person, even though he’d e-mailed, Skyped, and talked with them on the phone.
Cris and Landry had made it home first and had dinner underway when Bob and Tilly walked in.
He felt exhausted, mentally drained, but in a good way. The job would get easier once he was more familiar with it and the people, and he knew that.
They exchanged greetings with each other and KC. As Tilly took KC to go give her a bath before dinner, Landry followed, leaving Bob and Cris in the kitchen. Cris glanced down the hall after them, then pulled Bob in for an X-rated kiss that started Bob’s cock throbbing and left him feeling not nearly as exhausted as he had before.
“What’s your schedule Wednesday night?” Cris asked.
“About like today.”
“Guy’s still in business. He’s moved, though. He’s in Pasadena now. I’ll pick you up from Tilly’s office. We’ll grab dinner after. Landry’s conditions are that I film it and take pics, and that he will be the one to tell Tilly.”
The good kind of fear rippled through him. “Yes, Sir,” he whispered.
This was really going to happen.
Cris palmed his cheek. “My good boy. Any questions?”
“Just one.”
“Yes?”
“You’re sure that means what you said it means, right? He didn’t, like, get soup tattooed on your ass, did he?”
Cris grinned. “I thought about that later and checked. It’s accurate.” He pulled Bob in, foreheads touching. “She’ll own you, he’ll own, you, and I’ll own you, boy.”
Along with the fear ran relief. The more they did, the less likely they would be to want to reverse this and say good-bye to him.
“Yes, Sir. That’s what I want.”
* * * *
The ride in to work that morning had been…interesting.
Fortunately, KC had fallen asleep in the back seat. Cris knew the only way to deal with it was to deal with it, deal with it quickly, and head-on. Landry had been thumbing through e-mails on his work phone while Cris drove.
“Need a quick…discussion, Sir.” Cris knew they were supposed to be vanilla.
Something like this, he needed the protocol.
Landry turned to look at KC, then back to Cris. “Yes?”
“Bob made a request of me on the plane ride out. He wants to get his tat this week.”
He hadn’t needed to look at Landry to sense the intensity of his green gaze on Cris.
“He did, did he?” Landry drawled.
Whew. Amusement.
The sadist wasn’t upset. If anything, he sounded pleased. “He did. Requested I take him to the same place you took me.”
“That was his specific request?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Cris risked a quick glance. Landry had tilted his head and was watching him. “And your feelings on this?”
“He wants it. I’d like to take him.”
“Why you?”
“You know why, Sir.”
“Symmetry of dynamic?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“He wants to match you.”
“That, too.”
Landry fell silent, and Cris knew this was the point where he had to let the sadist mull it over.
“One condition,” Landry finally said after a few minutes.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Well, two. Take pictures and video of the process for me. And neither of you are to say a word to Tilly. I shall tell her.”
“Yes, Sir.”
* * * *
Landry followed Tilly to help her with KC. “Oh, by the way, love,” he said while they were elbows deep in bubble bath and a giggling toddler, “Cris and Bob are going to go out alone Wednesday evening. Cris will pick Bob up from work, and you and I and our little princess are going out for sushi after you come home and get me and her.”
“I want sushi!” KC squealed, happy.
He knew from the tilt to Tilly’s head that she knew something was up. “What are they going to go do?”
“They don’t need my permission to go out together, love. Do they?’
“I don’t know,” she said, sarcasm seeping into her tone. “You tell me.”
He smiled. “Bob told Cris there was something he wished to do while we’re all out here. Cris is going to take him to have it done.”
Her gaze narrowed and he could almost see her brain working like a computer, trying to puzzle it out, in child-friendly terms, what Landry was telling her.
He spotted the instant she figured it out because her eyebrows nearly launched off her forehead. “What?”
He pointed at KC and smiled, raising a sudsy finger almost to his lips. “Steady, love.”
She looked torn between wanting to storm out of the bathroom after the two men to confront them, and wanting to chew Landry a new one.
He was no idiot. There was a darn good reason he did it now, in front of KC.
“Are you sure that’s…wise?” she finally managed, sounding like it was taking every ounce of control she had not to shriek.
He shrugged. “Bob’s an adult and can make that decision for himself. In fact, he already has. I won’t tell him no.”
“But did you tell him he needed to do it?”
“Absolutely not. Go ask Cristo. He brought it to me this morning on our ride out of…courtesy.”
She sat back on her heels and stared at the ceiling for a minute while KC happily splashed with her set of marine animal floaties and made them race each other.
Tilly blew out a long breath and stared at him. “Swear to me you didn’t order him to.”
He raised both hands, so she could see he wasn’t crossing any fingers. “I did not. It happened exactly like that. Bob asked him on the plane ride out.”
“And he didn’t order him to?”
“Absolutely not. No orders, no suggestions. Bob asked Cristo, who asked me.”
She seemed lost in her head for a moment. When she next spoke, her voice thick with emotion, he could see the way her hazel eyes looked a little too bright, how she blinked harder than normal.
“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” she softly said. “Ever?”
Landry nuzzled her ear. “He’s ours for life, love. That’s all he wishes to be.”
She nodded. “Okay.” More nodding. “Okay. If he really wants it, yeah. Okay.”
Chapter Eight
Cris had called to let Bob know he was just blocks away. He packed up and went to Tilly’s office. “Cris is almost here.”
She crooked a finger at him to come in, pointing at the office door, indicating for him to close it behind him.
She hugged him, staring up at him. “This is what you want, right? No orders, no ‘suggestions’ or screwy manipulation like, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if my boys match?’”
Bob had been warned by the men Tilly was concerned he was making this decision of his own free will.
“This is me. All me. I’m really in this for life, and I liked the idea of the same guy doing mine, and Cris being the one to take me.”
“How’d you get from wanting to pound his ass to wanting to fuck his ass?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you. All I know is this is home, with the three of you, and I like the idea of matching.”
“I’m not getting a tattoo. No offense.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Ma’am.”
She sighed. “Still can’t call me Tilly, huh?”
“Landry did tell me that was a rule he had for this week, before we left Florida.”
“I should have known.”
“I like calling you Ma’am.”
“Tilly and Bob time.”
“Okay.”
She led him to the couch in her office, had him sit, and curled up in his lap, her arms around his neck. He loved holding her like this. It felt every bit as right as snuggling with either of the men.
“What if I never drop the restriction?”
He shrugged. “I’m still here, and I still want the tat.”
“What if you regret this in a couple of years?”
“Do you regret marrying Landry?”
“No.”
“You knew him for less than a week when he proposed. I’ve been wanting and ready for some iteration of what we have right now for years. Before I ever met you or them.”
She ran a hand through his hair. “Are you happy?”
“Absolutely.”
She nuzzled her mouth against the side of his neck. “I’m thinking out loud here, so don’t go passing this to the two of them yet, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I might start looking at booking us a vacation. You and me. Alone. As in KC stays with Landry and Cris while you and I go. If you see a block of time show up as being booked on the calendar, rest assured I know about it and have arranged it. And that’s all I’ll say about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” He tipped her chin up so he could kiss her, savor her.
Love her.
A knock sounded on her office door. “Come in,” she said.
Cris stuck his head in, smiling. “Am I missing something?”
She crooked a finger at him and he closed the door behind him, walking over to sit next to Bob. He first kissed Tilly hello, then Bob.
“Do not come back with soup or something stupid tattooed on his ass, okay?” she said.
Cris laughed. “I promise.”
“Good. Go have fun.” She got up, shooing the men out of her office.
Bob grabbed his things and a thrill raced through him as Cris held his hand while they awaited the elevator.
“Ready?” Cris asked.
Bob nodded. “Ready.”
“Nervous?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Good. I’d be worried if you weren’t. It’ll hurt, but probably less than half the shit Landry’s put us through on a bench. Oh, and fair warning.”
“Yeah?”
Cris grinned, dropping his voice. “The sadist has trained us both. I’m sure the pain will make you as horny as it did me.”
When the elevator door opened, Cris stepped in, leading Bob inside by the hand. Once the doors slid shut, he nibbled Bob’s ear. “And I promise I’ll take care of you the same way Master took care of me after.”
Bob’s cock stiffened, throbbing and now aching harder than he had in a while. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Bob wouldn’t deny he felt mild terror grab hold as Cris deftly wound his way through Los Angeles traffic toward Pasadena. Another city Bob would need to learn to navigate on his own.
The tattoo studio looked to be high-end, classy artwork hanging on the walls, what appeared to be operating-room-clean standards, and the guy was nice. They were the only ones there, and Cris handled the talking. The man didn’t specifically remember doing Cris’ tat, but considering how long ago it’d been, and how simple it was, that was understandable. He took a look at it as Cris bent over a table, slacks down far enough for the man to see it and take a picture while he had Bob hold an L-shaped ruler next to it for scale.
Thirty minutes later, Cris had paid, Bob had filled out the forms, and the man had printed out a template that was identical when laid over Cris’ tat. Bob lay facedown on the table, his left ass cheek being soaped and shaved while Cris stood at his head, holding him and whispering to him, dropping him hard into subspace the way Landry had done to Cris so many years earlier.
Bob barely felt the needle, more feeling Cris’ fingers cupped around the back of his neck, his mouth pressed to Bob’s ear.
With his other hand, Cris took pictures and video with his phone.
It was over almost before it had started. Bob was reluctant to sit up, because his erection screamed for relief. Cris stepped around to the foot of the table to go over care instructions with the artist. Then the man left, pulling a curtain around the table to give them privacy.
Bob rolled onto his right side, trying to stay off the tattoo, which put his back facing the front of the building.
Cris grabbed a handful of his hair and whispered, “Stay.”
Then he leaned in and sucked Bob off.
Bob didn’t even try to hold back. The only thing he tried to do was not make noise. He was so fucking horny from the pain, and blissfully deep in subspace, had Cris tried to fuck him right then he might have allowed it just to get relief.
When Bob finished, Cris straightened, whipped out his own cock, and quickly face-fucked his orgasm down Bob’s throat. Cris fell still when he finished, holding Bob’s head in place, Cris’ thumbs caressing Bob’s cheeks.
“Mine,” Cris whispered down at him. “Always and forever.”
“Yours, Sir,” he mumbled around Cris’ cock, his soul feeling light and free.
* * * *
Cris helped Bob onto his feet and couldn’t help smiling about his boy’s subspacey expression.
He now understood this was what had amused Landry so much that evening so many years earlier.
The love.
The pride, knowing Bob had trusted him so much to allow a permanent mark be placed there.
Possessive.
And the kinky thrill of checking “tattoo parlor” off their bucket list of sexual locations.
Although now Cris had earned a second check mark there.
Cris took him out to dinner to a French place he hadn’t been in far too long. In this the ritual differed, because Landry had taken Cris out to a Thai restaurant they enjoyed that had sat three doors down from the artist’s previous studio. Which was how they’d found the tattoo artist in the first place.
Cris wasn’t going to take things to that extent.
Besides, this was for him and Bob. Something that was theirs.
They found Landry and Tilly chilling on the sofa when they returned home a little before eleven that evening. KC had already been put to bed for the night, and Landry smiled as they entered the living room.
“Well? Let’s see.”
Bob set his laptop case in the chair, unfastened his slacks, turned, and pulled them and his briefs down to show them.
“Nice,” Landry said. “A matching set.”
Cris studied Tilly’s face. He wasn?
??t sure he didn’t see a little flash of something that disappeared just as quickly before she smiled. “Very nice.”
“And after?” Landry asked, grinning.
Cris nodded. “Continued the tradition. Or made it a tradition. Or…something.”
“What?” Tilly asked.
Landry kissed her. “They blew each other right there,” Landry said. “Because if Bob felt a fraction as horny as Cris did after he got his, it would have been cruel to make him wait for relief.”
“Ahhh. Because you’re a sneaky bastard who has them trained to get horny over pain.”
“The brain wants what the brain wants, love.”
“The brain is easily trained and manipulated.”
“Complaining, love?” He nuzzled her throat. “Or would you like me to train you as I trained them?”
She laid a hand on his chest. “Uh-uh. Cardinal’s Rule—”
“She who must be obeyed,” the men said in unison before breaking into laughter.
“I’m not that bad.”
They all laughed again. Landry stood and scooped her into his arms. “Of course you’re not, love. You’re a beautiful treasure. Come, let’s go to bed and we shall show you.”
He carried her into the bedroom, Bob and Cris following. A few minutes later, naked and in bed together, Cris was already wanting round two. Landry turned Tilly over to Cris to play with while he took Cris’ phone, called up the video, and then stuck his cock into Bob’s eager mouth.
“Yeesss,” Landry cooed. “Such a good boy you were for him. Look at you staying so still there on the table.”
Cris wanted something different tonight. He sat propped up against the headboard so he could watch Landry and Bob together. He had Tilly sit on his cock, facing away from him, her back pressed against his chest and her legs spread wide and hooked over his thighs. He reached around her and played with her nipples with one hand, her clit with the other, quickly building her arousal until she was trying to rock back and forth against him to encourage him to take over.
She felt amazing, her sweet cunt gripping his cock and trying to get him to fuck her, or get her off, to give her relief.
But he didn’t give in to her just yet.