AFTER THE Paul-in-latex debacle, the family reverted to its normal dynamic: loving but mildly hostile. Jamie’s dad shot me more than one accusatory glance across the table, and I accepted it. Hell, I deserved it. I’d gladly take my medicine.

Dinner was delicious as always. The fat content was astronomical, and much of the nutritional value had been cooked out of some of the dishes, but Jamie’s mom’s cooking was a rare and necessary departure from my strict diet. Marco would have a fit if he had any idea how I ate when I was in Georgia, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

As for me, I enjoyed the feeling of breaking the rules to make my man and his family happy. In a sense, they were my family now. I hoped they felt the same.

We retired to the living room, stuffed to the gills, and Mrs. Atwood turned on the TV. “Would y’all like to watch a movie?”

Jamie groaned. “I would, Mom, but Kage and I need to get a hotel room.”

“We should have made reservations,” I said.

Jamie put his head on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I told you the hotels around here don’t fill up unless there’s a big event going on.”

“But I’m a hotel owner,” I pointed out. “I should know better than to wait till the last minute.” I pulled out my phone and googled nearby hotels.

Mrs. Atwood put her hands on her hips. “You boys ought to stay here tonight. We’ve got plenty of room.”

“We’ve been over this, honey,” Mr. Atwood said. “You don’t want them sleeping in the same room, and Kage has made it perfectly clear that he’s not okay with that. End of story.”

“It’s not that I don’t want them in the same room,” she said. “I just don’t agree with—” She glanced at Paul and dropped her voice. “Premarital sex.”

Jamie lifted his head from my shoulder, and his face brightened. “You mean we can sleep together as long as we keep it PG-rated?”

“Jamie…” his dad warned.

“Okay, G-rated,” Jamie amended.

Mrs. Atwood chewed her lip, deep in thought. “Well, I suppose we could make an exception. It just makes me feel awful that you two always have to go stay somewhere else. This is your home, and I just want to cry every time you leave.”

“You do cry every time they leave,” Mr. Atwood said.

Hearing that broke my heart. It was selfish of me to take Jamie away from his mother just because I was a horny bastard. I felt so ashamed.

“Alright, we’ll stay,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to share Jamie’s room with him.” Mr. Atwood opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, I added, “Nothing will happen. You have my word.” I held up my hand, a silent oath to them and to myself.

Mrs. Atwood smiled, and seeing her joy made the blue balls I knew were in my future worth the pain.

* * *

AFTER JENNIFER and Chase had said their goodbyes and gone, Mr. Atwood brought out the Johnnie Walker Red again.

“I’m going to bed.” Mrs. Atwood drew in a big yawn, her eyelids drooping. “Cooking takes so much out of me, and I don’t have the stamina I once did. You all should turn in soon, too, Jamie. I’d like to visit some in the morning before you head back to school.”

“Sure, Mom,” Jamie said, getting up to give his mother a hug. “Thanks for letting us stay in my room.”

I tried not to ogle Jamie’s ass while he was hugging his mother, but it was right there just begging for my attention. It had been so long. For three months, I had been planning on taking that ass tonight, and now it would have to wait. My dick started to stir in my pants, and I adjusted my position on the couch and looked away.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Mrs. Atwood said. “Don’t make me regret my decision.”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, doing a two-finger salute.

She smirked. “You were never in the scouts.”

“True,” he said with a smile. He came back to the sofa and sat right next to me. Too close. “Night, Mom.”

“Night,” she said before shuffling off to bed.

Jamie’s dad poured three glasses and gestured for us to take ours. “You shouldn’t lie to your mother, Jamie. You’re taking advantage of her trust.”

Jamie faked shock. I knew he was faking it, because the corners of his mouth tried to twitch into a guilty grin. “I’m not lying to Mom. You act like Kage and I are some kind of sex-crazed perverts.”

Inside, I was nodding in wholehearted agreement.

His dad tossed back the contents of his glass and set the empty down. “Considering what your brother was wearing today, I’d say that’s a fair assessment. Do you have any idea how fucked up that was?”

Jamie laughed. “Yes, I do. But you have to admit it was funny. We’ll still be talking about it twenty years from now.”

“For your brother’s sake, I hope not. Poor little fella.”

“I’m sorry for that, Mr. Atwood,” I said, channeling the utmost sincerity into my voice. “Paul had asked me for an autographed picture the last time I was here. I had it wrapped with a name tag and everything, but apparently the gift I brought for Jamie was sitting right on top of it, and he just assumed they were both for him. Maybe if I had put a tag on Jamie’s, that never would have happened. I swear I could kick myself.”

Mr. Atwood frowned. “That doesn’t make it any better. The fact that you bought that… whatever you call it… for Jamie is bad enough in itself.” He turned his gaze on Jamie. “Son, is that how you dress when you’re in Vegas?”

“No,” Jamie squeaked defensively. “I’ve never worn anything like that in my life.” Jamie glanced at me with accusation in his eyes.

Then his dad looked at me again, wearing a similar look of accusation. “Is that all you think of my son? Dressing him up like a two-dollar hooker?”

Yes, I thought. Because really I couldn’t wait to see Jamie in that outfit. I’d thought of almost nothing else for days before I left Vegas. And the choker. I hadn’t wanted him to see it ahead of time, and especially not on his little brother. Jesus Christ. That thing was special, and I’d wanted to give it to him myself.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” I said, knowing good and damn well I was probably about to piss him off to save my own pride. “That outfit may look like a hooker’s uniform to you, but to me it looks tasteful and sexy. Have you ever bought lingerie for Mrs. Atwood?”

“Well, that’s none of your business,” he said, but I could tell from the guilty look on his face that he had.

“I’m only trying to make a point. Also, I find your two-dollar comment offensive. Firstly, it suggests that I think Jamie is cheap, when the exact opposite is true. I value him more than I value myself or anything else in my life. Secondly, that choker isn’t cheap, Mr. Atwood. It’s a one-of-a-kind piece made specifically for him to replace the claddagh necklace I ruined.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small leather box I’d confiscated from Paul after explaining the misunderstanding.

I opened the box and pulled out the choker, draping it over my palm. “This is a platinum claddagh charm, and the heart is made from a rare blue diamond.” I showed them the ends of the rawhide strand. “These are teardrop blue diamonds set in platinum.” I glanced at Jamie, suddenly feeling vulnerable and silly. “I’m not trying to brag about how much money I spent, but this piece is very special to me. I spent a lot of time working with the jeweler to get it just right because I love Jamie. I wanted to give him something meaningful and precious, just like he is to me.”

Mr. Atwood just sat there staring at the choker, not knowing what to say. He didn’t look angry. He actually looked touched.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Jamie asked, grinning. “Put it on me.”

I smiled and fitted the loop over his head, then slid the platinum bead up the strands to tighten it around his neck. “You can adjust this to whatever size you want,” I explained. “Wear it high up on your neck where it shows, or drop it down so that it’s hidden inside your shirt collar. The strands hang down in back just like your old one.”

Jamie ran a finger over the claddagh charm, making sure the heart was pointing toward his heart. “This is beautiful, Kage. Thank you. I could never get you anything even close to as special as this. I feel—” His eyes watered, and he glanced away.

I wanted to take him into my arms and make out with him until we were both panting for more, but his dad was sitting right there watching us. I had to make do with putting a hand on his knee and stroking.

“That’s not necessary, college boy. You give to me in other ways.” I grinned. “I just happen to have a shitload of money now. Let me spoil you.”

Jamie laughed. “I think I like being spoiled.”

His father cleared his throat and picked up his empty bottle. “Well, I guess I’m gonna hit the hay, fellas. I suggest you do the same. Your mom will be mad if you don’t get up early and let her feed you and dote on you. She lives for that shit, you know.”

“Night, Dad,” Jamie said, still looking at me with stars in his eyes. God, I loved that look on him.

“Night, Mr. Atwood,” I said absently, staring back at Jamie.

After his father had gone, Jamie jumped me. He kissed me like he meant it, devouring my mouth in a way that was inappropriate for the living room. I started to get hard and reached out to stop him.

“Quit teasing me,” I said. “There will be time for that tomorrow. When we’re not in your parents’ house anymore.”

Jamie gave me a pouty look and jumped up off the sofa. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me up.

“Let’s go to my room.”

I followed him into the tiny room and glanced around. Pictures littered the walls, all featuring Jamie looking adorable as hell. Holding a baseball bat over his shoulder, preparing for a free throw on the basketball court, mugging in his football jersey, cozying up to his date at prom.

A full-size bed dominated the space, made up neatly with a black comforter and sheets. A desk was pushed up against one wall, and a floor lamp towered above a blue beanbag chair in the corner next to the closet.

My bag sat on the floor near the bed, unzipped and gaping open to reveal Jamie’s two-dollar hooker outfit, which I’d hastily shoved back in after I got Paul to take it off. The boy had been embarrassed and ashamed, not because the outfit was inappropriate—he had thought it was some sort of trendy fighter gear—but because he had ruined his brother’s surprise.

I had finally convinced him that everything was okay and that he had nothing to be guilty about, but I did regret that I’d only brought him a cheesy autographed picture of myself. In retrospect, it seemed like an egotistical gift, though in my defense it was exactly what he’d asked for.

I made a promise to myself that the next gift I got Paul would be really special. Something he would be over the moon about.

Jamie disappeared into the bathroom down the hall, and he returned a few minutes later freshly scrubbed and ready for bed in nothing but his boxer briefs.

“Your turn,” he said, dropping his folded clothes onto the beanbag chair.

I grabbed my overnight kit out of my bag, walked quietly down the silent hall, and locked myself in the bathroom. “What a fucking day,” I mumbled to my reflection in the mirror. “And now I have to sleep with Jamie and not touch him?”

I shook my head and sighed, then slipped the hair band from my wrist and pulled my hair back. I washed my face with a squirt of the cleanser I’d brought from home, then brushed my teeth. While I was taking a leak, I decided that I was going to sleep in my pants. Better to fight temptation.

I steeled myself for a rough night and tiptoed back to Jamie’s room, but when I caught sight of him, I thought I should probably go back to the bathroom and jerk off.

He was standing there in the dim light of his bedroom all decked out in the infamous outfit. God, it was just as sexy on him as I imagined it would be. Even more so because he was standing right in front of me.

The way his abs peeked out from beneath the barely there shirt was breathtaking. Even worse were the shorts. Those evil, evil shorts. They hugged his hips perfectly, and his hardening cock was all too visible through the fabric, positioned to the side and curving slightly as it butted up against the band of his shorts and strained to be set free.

Then there was the choker. Not only was my dick throbbing, but now my heart was aching as well. My beautiful Jamie was wearing the necklace that symbolized my love for him, that marked him as mine, and he looked like walking sex. It was all I could do not to throw him down on the bed and fuck the daylights out of him. I groaned, clutching my overnight kit to my chest as it could give me strength.

He smiled at my obvious reaction and turned around, revealing the strands of his choker hanging down his back and drawing my attention all the way down to the latex-encased globes of his ass. My dick twitched in my pants, and I instinctively grabbed onto it with one hand while keeping the death grip on my bag of toiletries.

My gaze wandered down to his thighs, thick from working out, and his perfectly shaped calves. Even his feet were cute. He was fucking irresistible, and he was mine for the taking.

If I wanted to disrespect his mother and incur his father’s wrath. Fuck.

“Take that off,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Don’t be like that.” Jamie poked his bottom lip out, which always made me insane with lust. He knew it, and he was using it to his advantage. “I thought you wanted to see me in it. Are you disappointed?”

“You know good and damn well I’m coming out of my pants over here, Jamie. Your parents would kill me if they knew what I was thinking right now. Stop teasing me and go to bed before I lose control and do something we’ll all regret.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll take it off.”

He undressed slowly and methodically, stretching his arms over his head and lingering in the pose long enough to thoroughly showcase his ripped chest and abs. I resisted the urge to go to him and run my hands all up and down his torso. I wanted to lick his nipples, and bite them when they hardened to tight little peaks.

He tossed the shirt onto the beanbag chair and then slid his thumbs down into the waistband of those tight latex shorts. He had to pull the front out from his body to release his cock, and my mouth watered at the sight of the head playing peek-a-boo over the fabric. He paused there for a moment, teasing me, then bit his bottom lip and slipped a hand inside the shorts to palm his cock and his balls.

“Mmmm,” he groaned. “These things are so tight on my dick.”

“You don’t look like you’re in pain,” I said, wishing my voice hadn’t cracked.

“I didn’t say it hurt,” he said, running his hand slowly up his cock and then out of his pants. Then he turned around, showing me his ass again, knowing that was the quickest way to kill my resolve to not touch him.

“Going once, going twice,” he said, rocking his hips from side to side and shimmying the latex over his ass cheeks.

When the shorts had cleared his rounded ass, he let them drop the rest of the way to the floor, stepped out of them, and kicked them onto the beanbag.

At the end of his passive-aggressive strip tease, he faced me, wearing nothing but the choker. His beautiful cock stood high and proud.

“I took it off,” he said. “Does that make you happy?”

“No,” I said, unable to look away or even blink. “It makes me want to break something. With my dick.”

Jamie laughed and came closer, putting a warm hand on my bare chest. “Calm down, killer. I won’t tempt you anymore. I’d wear a chastity belt if I had one, but I don’t, so I’ll sleep all the way on my side. Wouldn’t want to accidentally rub up against you in my sleep.” He leaned in and kissed me, his lips pillow soft and tasting of mint toothpaste. “You’re safe with me.”

He climbed into bed, leaving me standing in the spot I’d been rooted to since I’d come back into the room. Then the cheeky little fucker put his back to the center of the bed and smiled at me over his shoulder before clicking the bedside lamp off.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, pulling the covers up to his chin.

I sighed. Jesus, this was going to be a long night.

I stripped down to my boxers, even though I’d planned to sleep in my pants, and climbed in behind Jamie. I couldn’t bring myself to turn my back to him, though. I wasn’t pissed at him, for heaven’s sake. I just couldn’t have sex with him.

I lay there for a long time with my eyes closed, trying to turn my brain off and go to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking. My thoughts eventually turned to work, as they almost always did when I was stressed or had too much silence to fill.

I hadn’t mentioned it to Jamie, but there were a handful of employees who didn’t seem to like me. They were perfectly polite to my face, but I caught them staring at me sometimes with expressions that ranged from vague distaste to outright hostility. The worst of them was the casino manager, whom I planned to get rid of when I found a replacement for him.

Oddly enough, Mark Gladstone was not one of the group I privately referred to as the Dissidents. He had taken every opportunity to goad me when my uncle was alive, but now he was warmer, engaging me in conversation on the regular and only occasionally taking playful digs at me.

At first it made me suspicious, but then Mark had invited me for a drink after work. I came close to refusing, but then I thought why the hell not? I could use a drink, and he wasn’t being nearly as annoying as he had been before.

After Mark had put away a fair amount of alcohol, his tongue got loose, and what he said surprised me.

“I was always jealous of you,” he’d said with a sheepish grin. “I was jealous, and I thought you were a spoiled brat. You had a rich uncle who gave you everything you ever wanted, and you didn’t have to do a goddamn thing to earn it. Meanwhile, the rest of us peons had to drag our asses to work every day just to make rent. On top of that, you’re so good-looking everybody gets all breathless and moony-eyed when you walk into the room. Women and men.”

He scoffed and took a healthy swallow of his fourth drink.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” I asked, fiddling with my empty glass. I glanced around for a waitress before adding, “Are you trying to piss me off?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m trying to make peace with you.”

“Why?” I pressed, still suspicious.

He shook his head and chuckled. “Because I saw something one day that made me change my mind about you. I guess you could say I had an epiphany.”

I raised a brow. “An epiphany? What the hell did you see?”

The waitress came by and took my order for another round of drinks while Mark stared at me, his lips pulled tight. He looked like he was trying to decide whether to tell me or not. Finally, his lips relaxed, and he opened up.

“I saw you training about a month ago. I was on break, and I was wandering around the hotel like I sometimes do. I discovered your gym, and you were working out while your trainer screamed at you.” He smiled. “That man is mean as hell. Worse than a drill sergeant.”

I nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Marco is definitely not shy about riding me, but that’s why I win fights.”

“Maybe. It sure opened my eyes. I went by the gym a few more times that week, and I couldn’t believe it. You worked just that hard every time. Before that, I thought I was the one who was working hard and you were just kicked back in your penthouse most of the time, eating caviar and fucking and spending your uncle’s money.”

“And now?”

“You’re a hard worker, Junior. Your coach was bitching about you not getting in enough training lately, and you said you had a business to run now. You said you’d try harder. Meanwhile, I went back to the office, leaned up against the desk, and gossiped with Cathy until somebody sent some paperwork my way. About an hour later, you stuck your head into the office freshly showered and dressed in a suit, and you asked if anybody needed anything. I was floored. Your uncle never would have done anything like that. Hell, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

He shook his head and finished off his drink just as the waitress brought the next round. “What can I say? I had a change of heart. And I don’t say shit like that to people, so you’d better appreciate it.” He pointed a finger at me in mock threat.

That night I had confided in Mark about the Dissidents, not going into detail, but mentioning that a group of employees seemed to resent my presence. He had rattled off the names of a few of them with a knowing look.

“How do you know who they are?” I’d asked in obvious shock.

He laughed, then leaned in and dropped his voice low. “There are things going on around here that I don’t think even you are aware of, Junior. Why don’t you pay a visit to the Scepter? Maybe you’ll find some answers there.” Then, because the asshole couldn’t help himself, he’d added, “Maybe if you hadn’t walked around with your head up your ass all these years you wouldn’t be so clueless now.”

I laughed, knowing he was right. “I’m just now figuring that out.”

“You’ll do okay,” he said. “You’ve got more character in one of your biceps than your uncle had in his entire body.”

“Damn, Mark. You’re making me blush like a schoolgirl over here.” I really did blush a little bit, because his compliment was so genuine and unexpected.

“I know,” he said. “Have I kissed your ass enough to get my intern? You always said I was brown-nosing the wrong Santori.”

“Not even close. But I might take it under advisement if you answer one question for me.”

“Shoot,” he said. “I just might be drunk enough to tell the truth.”

I leaned forward in my chair, looking Mark straight in the eyes. “Do you really want a female intern?”

Mark chuckled, but he didn’t look away. “I’ll answer that when you tell me if you’re fucking your intern.”

“He’s not my intern anymore. He’s my boyfriend.”

Mark nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

He drained his glass, probably fortifying himself for what was to come. Sucking down a little liquid courage.

“Your turn,” I reminded him when the silence has stretched out too long.

He slammed his glass down on the table. “Fuck it. I want a male intern. Preferably one who moonlights as a stripper.”

“I knew it,” I said with a smug grin. “Steve was right.”

“Steve,” Mark grated. He didn’t elaborate on why the mere mention of Steve’s name pissed him off, and I didn’t ask.

The conversation had turned to the dark side then. Once Mark got started being honest, it seemed he couldn’t stop. We didn’t discuss any more business, but that was okay. Mark had given me a tip. Pay a visit to the Scepter, he’d said, and that’s just what I planned to do.

It was nice to have someone to confide in, even if we hadn’t talked that much. I hadn’t been able to share my work troubles with Jamie because I didn’t want him to worry. And I could admit that part of it was pride. I wanted him to see me as strong and capable, and if he knew I was struggling to fit into my own business, he might think less of me.

I loved him. I wanted to take care of him. I wanted to be the kind of man who deserved his admiration. He had pulled me out of the mire that was my previous life and shown me what it meant to belong to someone. Losing him would kill me.

I scooted up close to him in his childhood bed and wrapped my arms gently around his naked body, trying not to wake him. I just needed to hold onto him for a while.

My hands itched to run over his soft skin, and I gave in to the temptation. I wouldn’t let myself go any farther than that. Just a little touch to quiet my tumultuous thoughts. He always had that effect on me.

His hip was smooth beneath my fingers, and I traced along his hipbone then down his thigh. Crisp hairs tickled my fingertips, and I leaned in and breathed in the scent of his hair. His skin. Like autumn wind and apple pie, and those distinctive Jamie Atwood pheromones.

The scent of home.

I rubbed my erection against one of his ass cheeks, the contact excruciatingly light. I wanted to grind into him, but I had promised no fucking, so this would have to do. Just a gentle rub up and down the underside of my dick to alleviate the need. Just for a minute, and then I would stop.

Jamie pushed his ass back onto me and moaned, as if stirring in his sleep, and my cock pushed back.

I buried my nose in his hair and stilled, alarmed. Don’t wake up, I thought.

But it was too late.

He turned over within the circle of my arms and threw a leg over my hip. Whether it was instinct or experience, him or me, he ended up right where I wanted him. With the tip of my cock nudging at his hole.

My mind screamed at me to stop, but my body wasn’t listening. Before I could even get the war under control, Jamie climbed silently onto me and sat back, spearing himself on my massive erection with no warning. One second we were cuddly and teasing, and the next I was fully sheathed in his ass, which was warm and inexplicably slick inside. He was already lubed, and I was a breath away from coming.

“Jamie,” I said, my voice pained with the exertion to control myself. “We can’t do this.”

“We’re already doing it,” he whispered.

He rested his upper body flat on top of mine and started undulating his hips, his tight hole squeezing up and down my shaft in small increments. He reached around with one hand and borrowed lubrication from the place our bodies were joined. Then he slid that hand between us and stroked his own dick.

When he was sufficiently slick, he wrapped both arms tightly around my neck and flattened himself against me again, sandwiching his cock between us. Then he lost himself completely to the rocking, his ass stroking my cock, our bellies stroking his in tandem.

There were no cries and no sudden movements, no thrusts or gasps. We were one body and one mind, rocking silently toward one climax, and when it hit I thought we would squeeze each other to death.

When we were done, I wrapped my body around him and spooned him into me, feeling awful for breaking my word, but more satiated than I’d ever felt in my life. I’d deal with the guilt tomorrow. Right now I just wanted to hang onto Jamie and sleep.