Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Aren’t you coming in, Sir?” Garrick pleaded with me.
“Not yet, champ. I’m still defrostin’.” I took a swig of my beer and caught movement in the corner of my eye.
Max had stepped out, dressed similarly to me, and he was busy warding off little Jason and Cas. Not that it would work with that charming smile. Hmpf. I got the sleepy scowls and the grumpy muttering, and the boys got smiles and head pats.
Life wasn’t fair to Sadists.
Eventually, though, he challenged the boys to dive into the pool with their clothes on, and I smirked in approval. Get them into trouble with their Owners. Always a good strategy.
Once the boys were in the water, Max left the scene, satisfied with his work.
He tossed his towel on the next lounger over, then pushed it right up against mine.
Interesting.
“How’s the hangover?” I asked.
“Down with the mother of headaches.” He slumped in the chair and let out a long breath. “I’m not sure it’s just a hangover. I really didn’t drink that much.”
“Mister Jensen!” Cas hollered from the pool.
“Not now, boy,” I said firmly. “He’s got a headache.”
“Oops! Okay! I hope you feel better, Sir!”
That did it. They were good boys.
If Max wasn’t feeling well, the sun wasn’t going to help, so when he threw the towel over his head, I returned to the barbecue area and grabbed one of the large umbrellas. Then I wheeled it back to our corner.
As soon as our loungers were in the shade, he lowered the towel a bit and squinted up at me.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. Something wasn’t right, and I was starting to worry it had to do with last night.
Back in the kitchen, Carl, Sam, and Rome were standing around the island discussing tomorrow—and I’d join if it weren’t for my bag of misery of a friend outside. The ideas were raining while I put together some snacks. Takedown, hide-and-seek, orienteering, and good ole tag were on the table.
“What do you think, Reid?” Sam asked.
“I’m with Rome,” I said. “Start simple with a takedown. Then we can rest for a day and jump into somethin’ that requires more plannin’.”
I filled a plate with bread, cheese, grapes, and a banana, then went to slice the watermelon.
My grocery list for the trip was short and had been taken care of by Shawn, who was a sweet slave by day and a wicked primal brat by night.
I tossed a couple of cheese cubes into my mouth and filled a pitcher with ice and water before I left the guys and headed back out.
“Look at’chu, acting like a Daddy,” Brad joked. “Is Max okay?”
He was firing up the grill for a late lunch.
“He can’t handle the wine coolers anymore,” I replied.
He laughed.
When I reached Max, he’d turned on his side, and he was using his towel as a pillow. He followed my movements through his pity-me expression as I sat down and placed the plate between us. The pitcher ended up on the floorboards, and I resisted the urge to throw water on him.
“You gotta eat, buddy,” I said.
He pushed himself up on his elbow and scrubbed a hand over his face.
He was damn gorgeous. We spent a lot of time outdoors in the summer, so we hadn’t lost much of the tan we got every year. It was extra visible with his trunks riding low over his hip.
“Can you take care of me like this all week?”
I chuckled. “You’re lucky we’re down here. I usually only do this for men who bend over for me.”
A bit of bullshit there. Max and I were good at supporting each other through colds, flus, and other shitty days.
That said, we did tend to behave differently on vacation. I didn’t know what it was, or why; we just stayed closer when we traveled. No wonder it was a favorite of mine.
Max hummed and went for a handful of grapes. “Maybe it’s worth it? What other perks are there?”
“For bending over for me?” I smirked. If he was in a joking mood, I was happy to play along. “For that, I’ll call you sweetheart, dote on you, and, of course, expect to be worshipped.”
He huffed and smiled ruefully. “You’ve never wanted to be worshipped.”
That wasn’t entirely correct. I wasn’t into the regular Dom/sub dynamics on a domestic level, and that was usually where the day-to-day worship snuck in. But it wasn’t like I’d turn Max down if he wanted to shower me with devotion.
“I’d make an exception for you.” I leaned back and got comfortable, ankles crossed, one arm folded behind my head. “I’m thinkin’ daily back rubs and blow jobs.”
He chuckled around a mouthful of food and broke off a piece of bread.
Lying here like this with him, in our own bubble where the banter of the brats in the pool couldn’t touch us, it was difficult not to picture what our lives could look like.