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Where did you hide that bottle of scotch I was saving?” Rig called out, standing at the sliding patio door to the house.
“Oh good Lord,” Bobby muttered, then pulled himself to his feet. “Excuse me, but I better go find his scotch before he tears the house apart looking for it.”
Tackett waved him along, his attention already taken up by the dark, curly-headed man stepping out the door past Rig. He heard Bobby chuckle as he walked away, but paid him no mind. Micah was heading to the table in nothing but a pair of shorts, loaded with plates of small cakes and cookies, hips swaying and his tanned naked torso reflecting the orange glow from the setting sun and fire.
“There he goes to save the day.”
Tackett laughed and turned to Blake, who was sitting across from him, his boy curled up next to him. “I swear he’s the only man I know who works harder now that he’s retired than before. Has he missed a day at the club since you bought it?”
“Nope. Comes in every day when we open and walks out at night when we close. Says I still need some training.”
That sounded like Bobby, all right. Always worrying and fussing. If the man wasn’t such a damn fine chef—cooking and eating to combat the worriment— he’d be skin and bones. “So how did you talk him into finally taking this vacation?”
Blake smiled. “Shutting down Monday. Going to be closed for a week or so while we do some remodeling.”
“Wow, more changes?”
“Club’s getting too busy, I hate that fucking dance floor,” Blake growled. “Hard to pay attention to what’s going on and who’s coming in and out. We’re going to turn that big banquet room in the back into a private club. Close the playrooms to the general public.”
His skin itchy from chlorine and sun, Tackett absently rubbed at his thighs, stealing glances toward the house. “Sounds like a smart move. I definitely would like a place a little lower-key to hang out. Not much for dancing—at least, not the vertical kind.” Speaking of which, what the hell was Micah doing in there?
“It is, but I can’t take the credit, it —”
“Bobby?” Tackett interrupted. “Christ, the man really does need a vacation.”
“—was my boy’s idea.” Blake ran his fingers across the metal collar around Ty’s neck, an expression of near wonderment on his face as he touched it.
“Ah, your Master finally drove you to drastic measures, I see,” Tackett chuckled, addressing Ty.
“He was getting a little neurotic, sir. Figured we had to make some changes or he was going to have an ulcer and gray hair by the end of the year.” Ty reached up and pointed at the side of Blake’s head. “Oh wait, is that one there? Here, let me get that for you, sir.”
The slap to Ty’s ass was loud, followed by peals of laughter from Ty as Blake started manhandling him. It was nice seeing the two of them so happy and getting everything they were hoping for out of their relationship.
Tackett glanced again toward the house and spotted Micah. Finally!
Micah approached, his smile growing with each step he took. Tackett grabbed Micah’s hand and tugged him down on his lap.
“Amazing what a little sun and pool fun will do for your temperament, sir.” Micah laughed as he settled on Tackett, straddling him, pushing in close.
“Knowing I’m going to get laid soon does wonders for my mood.” Tackett grabbed a handful of Micah’s silky curls, pulling him down. “Don’t get used to it, pup,” he said gruffly, then softened the taunt by nipping playfully at Micah’s earlobe before releasing him.
“Oh, I won’t. I kind of like the grumpy top persona.”
Micah kept rocking, shifting those lean hips, and pressed his ass down against Tackett’s groin. The friction was sweet; his dick swelled as his need and desire increased.
Tackett stopped Micah’s movements by placing heavy hands on the younger man’s thighs. “You keep doing that and I will fuck you right here and now.”
“Do what?” The little