Pup (17 page)
lasted for only two hours, yet the aftereffects from the events that took place in the small dungeon beneath an adult toy store were still setting the tone for his and Micah’s actions two days later.
Micah had earned not only his orgasm, but his way back into Tackett’s bed. The fear that Tackett would withhold touch from him kept him from acting up. Not only was he following every command Tackett issued, he’d cling to Tackett, a frown marring his handsome face whenever Tackett moved too far away. Tackett’s behavior had changed as well since he’d helped a nearly comatose sub back to his penthouse and tucked him in Tackett’s king-size bed. Micah hadn’t done anything to deserve punishment, but Tackett wasn’t pushing him either, had even been too sympathetic after the pain he’d put Micah through and hadn’t the heart to discipline his pup.
A snuffling sound escaped the sleeping man, whose head was lying in Tackett’s lap, and he instinctively petted Micah’s silky curls, calming him. He’d made a promise to Micah he’d find his limits and push them. Although they’d found one of Micah’s limits and not only pushed it but exploded it, Tackett had also promised to help the boy learn to focus. Coddling Micah for too long, denying the boy’s discipline was unfair to both of them. Yes, Micah appeared to be doing better, concentrating on Tackett’s needs rather than his own, but one intense session, no matter how many limits were pushed, was not going to give Micah the true peace in submission he craved. To hold back now would be cruel.
Tonight, he’d start pushing another
Before Tackett could work out a plan in his head, his cell phone vibrated on the table next to him. When he picked it up, he recognized Bobby’s number and flipped it open.
“Hey, Bobby,” he greeted, keeping his voice low as not to wake Micah.
“Tackett, my old friend, how are you doing?”
“Can’t complain. Does no damn good, you know that. Enjoying your vacation?”
“Florida sucks, and you’re right, it does no damn good to complain. Rig is being a hardass and ignoring my pleas to return home,” Bobby grumbled. “Don’t know why I put up with the sadistic bastard.”
Tackett laid his head back, chuckled low. “Because you love that sadistic bastard, that’s why.”
“I’m beginning to question that. This heat is atrocious. I swear I’m not going to make it another eleven days. I’ll waste away to nothing.”
Tackett didn’t point out it would take years to sweat off all the extra pounds Bobby was carrying around. Instead he said, “Mm hmm.”
“Anyway, I didn’t call to discuss my vacation in hell.” Tackett heard what sounded like ice clinking into a glass and liquid being poured. “How did it go with our young Micah the other night?”
“It went fine,” he deadpanned, but his hand instantly went back to pet the curls at the mention of Micah’s name.
“Don’t blow me with this ‘fine’ shit. I hear it in your voice. What happened?”
“Sweat must be clogging your ears, old man. It did go fine. In fact the young man of which you speak is currently sleeping with his head on my lap.”
“You invited him back?” Bobby’s voice sounded shocked, but also pleased.
Tackett thought about teasing the man and telling him it was none of his business, but decided that ramping up Bobby’s blood pressure when he was already irritated with the heat probably wasn’t the wisest. Bobby would find out soon enough anyway. The man had a private line to all the comings and goings of every Dom or sub he associated with.
“No, I didn’t invite him back,” he admitted. “He hasn’t left since I brought him home.”
“What!”
Tackett had to pull the phone away from his ear and cover the speaker with his hand. “Shh, you’ll wake him,” Tackett growled into the phone.
“Okay, just a minute,” Bobby said, lowering his voice. Ice rattled close to the phone; then there was a large gulp followed by the sound of more liquid being poured, more than likely bourbon. Some shuffling sounds came through the line, and then Bobby said, “Okay, I’m sitting down. Say that again.”
“He’s still here.”
“I knew it! I knew that naughty pup would be perfect for you.” Bobby’s tone was smug.
“I’m just helping him learn to focus,” he responded, keeping his voice neutral. “I’ve agreed to take him on for the two weeks the club is shut down, that’s all.”
It was Bobby’s turn to reply with a skeptical sounding, “Mm hmm. I’ve known you for twenty years, Tackett, and not once have you taken on a boy for this length of time.”
Tackett looked down again at Micah and sighed, idly petting his curls. “I know, Bobby, but this one needs so much and he’s convinced himself I’m the only one who can help him.”
“I have to agree with the boy. I told you, Micah isn’t stupid. If he had been going through Doms like some of the other boys do, looking for a thrill, I might think otherwise. You’re the only one he’s been interested in since he came to work for me, and he never wavered in his belief.”
“How can he know that?” Micah shifted when Tackett’s voice began to rise, reminding him to speak quietly. “He barely knows me, and more importantly, what the hell do I know about being a full-time Dom?”
“Part-time, play-time, full-time, it doesn’t matter, Tackett. You’ve got good instincts. What can I do to help alleviate the worry I hear in your voice?”
“Do you know who he’s played with? He has a fear of being alone and sensory dep. I can’t help but think maybe he’s been abused at some point.”
“Not according to the work sheet he filled out for me. I think he’s had one short-term contract as a full-time sub, but from what Micah tells me, the parting was mutual when the contract ended and they are still friends. I can do some calling around if you want.”
“Could you? I just need to know if his fears are rooted in something that happened to him in the past. I don’t want to do anything that could damage him because I didn’t do my homework.”
“Hold on, Tackett.” There was a slight pause; then he heard Bobby call, “I’m talking to Tackett, go by yourself.” The sound was muffled, as if Bobby had covered the phone with his hand. “Rig says hi and I have to call you back. Asshole is making me keep my promise to take a walk on the beach with him. Not even the allure of a nude beach with sexy boys is worth going out in this heat,” he grumbled.
“Tell him I said hi and let me know what you find out, okay?”
“Tackett said hi and you’re an asshole for making me go out in this heat,” Bobby hollered, forcing Tackett to pull the phone away from his ear again. “I’ll call you tomorrow. But hey, before you go. You should plan on showing off your new boy at the club’s grandopening party.”
“At Folsom? I just saw Blake and he didn’t mention anything about it.”
“That’s because I haven’t told him yet. I’m thinking a month should give Blake plenty of time to have everything ready. I’ll let you know the exact date.” Tackett heard Rig call Bobby’s name, his voice much closer and clearer this time, an obvious warning in his tone. “’Bye, Tackett, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Bobby sighed, and then the phone went dead.
Tackett shook his head, flipped his cell closed, and returned it to the side table. When he looked down at Micah, baby-blue eyes were staring up at him. “How’s Master Bobby, Sir?”
“You know, pup. Boys who pretend to sleep while listening in on a private conversation get beat,” he said gruffly.
“I wasn’t pretending, Sir. Bobby’s voice and you shaking from trying to hold back your laughter woke me.” Micah sat up, pushing into his side. “How long was I out?”
“Only about forty-five minutes. I was about to wake you when Bobby called. And Bobby is just fine, hates the heat, but sounds like he’s having a good time.”
Micah nodded, stretching a little. “That’s good. He deserves to have some fun. Would you like me to start supper, Sir?”
Tackett thought about it for a moment. He actually wanted to stay snuggled up with his boy on the couch, and the realization of that made him rise and pull a startled Micah up with him. “Oh yeah, I forgot, we’re having steaks. I’ll get the grill ready, you start the potatoes.”
Micah got a little twisted up in his blanket, stumbling, and Tackett was forced to wrap his arms around the man to keep him from landing on his ass. “Whoa, head rush!” he said, disoriented, swaying a little from the rapid move to his feet.
Tackett held him a moment longer to make sure the boy wouldn’t damage himself if he let go. “You okay, pup?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Sir.” Micah sighed when Tackett released him, a slight frown pulling down his full bottom lip.
Tackett fought the urge to kiss the boy’s pout and instead grabbed his biceps and turned him around, giving him a little shove toward the kitchen and popping him on the ass. “Go, I’m hungry.”
“Going, Sir.” But not before the shit wiggled his butt at him and then giggled before hurrying to the kitchen when Tackett growled.
Damn, he liked that teasing side of his pup, was glad to see it coming back after he’d been so subdued the last two days. Gave him another reason to stop being so damn soft and tear that ass up.
After pulling the small hibachistyle grill from the storage closet, Tackett got the charcoal going and joined Micah in the kitchen. Micah stood at the flour-covered counter in a pair of sweatpants, electric mixer going.
“How’s it going, pup?” he asked as he pulled the steaks from the fridge.
“Potatoes are in the oven. Here, try this,” Micah encouraged, cutting the power on the mixer and holding out a finger dipped in what appeared to be batter.
Tackett set down the tray on the stove and moved close to his pup, took that tempting finger into his mouth, and sucked hard, the batter sweet, with a hint of vanilla and a strong banana flavor. Micah started to pull away, but Tackett grabbed his wrist, stopping the movement, pulling harder and swirling his tongue around the digit teasingly.
“I take it you like it, Sir,” Micah asked seductively, no longer trying to pull away but pushing close, his free hand landing on Tackett’s waist.
“Mmm,” he responded, pulling Micah’s finger from his mouth with a pop. “I’m not sure, better let me try again.” He guided Micah’s finger back to the large mixing bowl, dipping it into the batter and bringing it back to his mouth to lick and suck, adding a little teeth.
“It’s…. Um….” A shudder went through Micah. “Banana cupcakes,” Micah stuttered, eyes heavy-lidded as he watched his finger move in and out of Tackett’s mouth.
Tackett let Micah’s finger slip from his mouth and released the grip he had on the boy’s wrist. He hid his smile when Micah’s hand seemed to hover in the air for a moment as if he were debating whether to push it back into Tackett’s mouth. He lowered it in slow motion, eyes still riveted to Tackett’s mouth.
With Micah distracted, Tackett dipped his finger in the batter and instead of bringing it to his mouth, swiped it across Micah’s right nipple, and then sucked it into his mouth, cleaning the little nub and the ring in it until only the flavor of Micah’s skin remained.
“Oh!” Micah gasped, pushing his chest out.
Tackett looked up, still teasing the ring with his tongue, and met Micah’s beautiful blue eyes. “Oh now, that is good,” Tackett complimented, licking his lips.
“I’m glad it pleases you, Sir,” Micah said softly, beginning to respond to Tackett’s playing, his breathing a little quicker and a visible flush moving up his pup’s chest.
“I can’t help but think there’s something missing. You sure you followed the recipe correctly, boy?” he teased, grabbing the bowl and going to his knees in front of Micah.
“I’m pretty sure, Sir. It’s my grandma’s recipe.” Micah moaned when Tackett painted his navel with the sweet mixture, swirling his finger around the bar piercing.
Before leaning in to taste, Tackett added more of the batter to Micah’s hip, tracing the pattern of the revolver tattoo exposed above the waistband of his sweats. “I don’t know, pup. I think you missed an ingredient or two. Hold on, I’ll see if I can figure it out for you.”
Tackett started at Micah’s hip, the tip of his tongue tracing the ink: around the grip, the hammer, and down the barrel. He didn’t go below what was hidden beneath the material of Micah’s sweatpants, but moved across the edge of the material and up to the trigger. Micah’s erection swelled, tenting his pants, but Tackett ignored it. Placing a hand on each of Micah’s hips to stop his rocking motions, he moved to give his navel the same torturous teasing.
The pitch of Micah’s moans deepened, turning huskier when Tackett pushed his tongue into his navel, sucking and lapping, seeking out the sweet flavor hidden there. The metal bar, right there, was tempting, and Tackett grabbed it between his teeth and tugged.
“Sir!” He jerked, instinctively pulling away from the bite of pain, but Tackett held him firm in his grip, Micah’s cock poking him below his jaw.
“Nope, still haven’t figured it out,” he told his pup, adding a touch of mock confusion and trying to hold back his laughter at the huff the man made when Tackett pulled back. He really was having far too much fun at his boy’s expense.
However, he didn’t feel a smidge of guilt or regret for Micah’s obvious frustration.
Tackett snapped his fingers. “I think I know, but better test my theory to be sure.”
“Too much sugar?” Micah panted, eyes darting between Tackett’s gaze and his fingers swirling in the mixing bowl.
“Nope, sugar is just right.” Tackett curled two fingers, scooping out as much batter as he could, the excess dripping from them. Without taking his eyes from Micah’s, Tackett eased the material over the man’s straining cock and spread the batter down the entire length. He winked up at his boy and in one deft movement, sucked the sugary-coated cock into his mouth.
Micah went rigid, eyes nearly bugging out of his head, and Tackett took full advantage of the temporary moment of hesitation and took the long, slender prick deep into his throat. Micah made a strangled sound, his hand going to the counter for support, lean body trembling with the will it took him to keep from thrusting.
“Oh fucking hell!” Micah groaned when Tackett swallowed.
Tackett let Micah’s cock slip from his mouth, keeping a firm grip on the base and licking his lips. “Yup, just what I thought it was missing.” He licked the flared cockhead once more as if double-checking the results of his finding one last time. “You forgot the cock flavoring.”
Panting, eyes practically rolling back in his head, Micah’s giggle came out more of a strained grunt. “I’m pretty sure my grandma didn’t have cock in her recipe, Sir.”
“Well she should have, it’s quite delicious this way.” Tackett sucked Micah back into his mouth, setting a slow rhythm, taking him deep and pulling back till just the flared head was past his lips, then slowly moving back down to the base.
“Ah, Sir…. Sir!” Micah moaned, the shaking in his limbs increasing.
Tackett ignored him, his head bobbing a little faster. Oh, yes, he was having way, way too much fun at Micah’s expense. He hummed to let his boy know he had heard him and teased the heavy balls, rolling them between his fingers.
“Can’t…. Oh fuck, Sir,” Micah sobbed. “Can I cum…. Sir…. Please!”
He tortured his boy until he felt Micah go rigid, the prick in his mouth swell incredibly harder, and pulled off, squeezing tightly around the base. “No cumming, boy.”
Micah’s knuckles were white where they gripped the cupboard, his breathing erratic, and he tried to control the orgasm begging to be let loose. “Oh fuck, that was close, Sir. I need….” Micah swallowed hard.
Tackett sucked the head back into his mouth, tonguing the slit and lapping at the precum leaking in a steady stream. “No! Sir, I can’t…. Sir!”
“Oh I’m sorry, boy, I thought you said you needed more.” He chuckled. “You really should send my suggestion to dear old grandma. It’s absolutely impossible to resist with the added flavor.”
Micah nodded, his face an expression of agony as he fought hard to keep from cumming. Tackett had mercy on his pup and rolled to his feet. “Breathe, pup. Look at me and just take a few deep breaths.”
Micah’s chest heaved as he took in large gulps of air and met Tackett’s gaze. There was real concern in those blue eyes, and Tackett ran a soothing hand down Micah’s arm. “Better?”
“Yes, Sir,” he responded. With the immediate danger past, Micah’s shoulders slumped, and he visibly relaxed. “Holy fuck, that was close. You’re quite good at that, Sir.”
“Thank you, pup.” He kissed Micah on the nose and stepped back. “Better save the rest of that for your cupcakes,” he suggested, pointing to the bowl of batter on the floor.
