Pucking Road Trip (Bay Rebels #3)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Garden of Eden Restaurant, Freedom

D ’Angelo

“Did you just steal a spoonful of my tiramisu?” I stare at Shay in shock.

Shay leans back to his side of the table, shamelessly licking the last of my dessert off the spoon.

Thief.

I stare at him over the tiny table in the booth at the back of the luxurious Italian restaurant, the Garden of Eden.

The restaurant’s walls and roof are draped in velvet crimson and golds. A chandelier that looks like a tree, dripping crystal leaves, hangs above us.

On the far wall is a cocktail bar.

The wall is bright with bottles of spirits, gleaming with a gold counter and stools.

The restaurant is empty, however, apart from the waiters who are bustling around at a distance, occasionally checking on us or adding more wine to our table.

The owner is the co-founder of my business with me. It’s why I know that he’ll be discrete. I’ve been discrete when he needs often enough.

It’s his new venture, and I also want it to succeed.

I’m loyal to my close friends.

I bought the restaurant out for tonight. This second date with Shay is important to me.

I promised Shay that I’d wine and dine him.

I don’t remember promising to share my dessert.

“Hmm,” Shay sighs. “It tastes of coffee and chocolate. Yummy.”

I tap the handle of my fork against the thick tablecloth three times. “Are you my royal food taster?”

Shay sprawls further on the crimson leather. “I’m not poisoned, Your Majesty. It’s safe for you to continue.”

“You’re too kind,” I deadpan.

Shay is wearing a punky, scarlet silk shirt and tight, black pants.

He looks more edible than anything that’s been on the menu tonight.

I subtly adjust myself.

Shay can make me hard with a single smile.

It’s becoming a Pavlovian response at this point.

I’m dressed in a black tuxedo, which made Shay trip down the final step of the stairs at Captain’s Hall, when he caught sight of me.

I plan to train Shay, as much as I’m being trained to seek his happiness.

Shay looks sadly at his glass plate, which has been scraped clean. “I’ve already eaten all of my pudding. It was bloody delicious. I’ll say this, I’m a convert to Italian food now. This restaurant is fantastic. The spaghetti dish was a hundred…thousand…times better than the spaghetti meals that Eden and I would cook back in dorms because it was cheap. Don’t tell Eden that. And this…”

“Chocolate panna cotta,” I supply, as proudly as if I’d cooked the meals tonight myself.

“It’s like hot cocoa turned into custard.” Shay glances wistfully at his plate again. “I could have eaten three of them.”

“So, that’s why you’ve moved onto mine.” I slice my fork into my tiramisu and savor a bite.

It’s creamy with tangy mascarpone.

Shay bites his lip. “Fuck, this is food porn. Take another bite. More slowly this time…”

I almost spit out my mouthful in shock.

I glare at Shay but then I catch his dancing gaze.

“You’re playing with fire, cucciolo.” I pick up my wine instead, watching Shay over the rim.

“Don’t I always? Anyway, isn’t this what people do on these types of dates?” Shay sounds more unsure. I don’t like it. I want the playful version of him back. “I’ve never been taken somewhere like this before. This is new to me. But I’m trying and… This is romantic, right?”

I struggle to keep a straight face, edging my arm protectively around my plate. “It’s theft.”

“Possessive.”

“Always.”

When we first arrived at the grand restaurant, Shay looked around himself in awe.

Shay tried to hide his nerves. But he didn’t manage it.

I casually slipped my arm around his shoulders, as if I didn’t notice his anxiety. I led him to our booth, but he still managed to almost knock over the crystal table lamp as we sat down.

I caught the lamp just in time.

When we opened the menus, Shay’s brow furrowed. “There are no prices. Should we tell them that they printed these menus wrong? I don’t want to embarrass anyone.”

My heart clenched.

Places like this don’t include prices.

If you can afford to eat here, then you don’t need them.

If they allow you to book, then you don’t check prices.

I refused to ruin this date by making Shay feel small or like he didn’t belong here for not knowing that fact.

I remembered what it was like to be made to feel like trash by Wilder and the rest of the hockey team throughout college.

Shay faces challenges with a positivity that floors me.

I face them like a grumpy asshole.

“I’ll tell them later,” I promised. “Well spotted.”

Shay shielded us with his large, leather menu, before he whispered. “Can I afford this…? I mean, not having the prices on here isn’t some kind of trick, right? I wondered why it’s so dead in here.”

I leaned across the table and placed my hand over his. “It’s usually full. People need to book months in advance and can hardly get a table. Well, unless you know the owner personally. And I do. He gave me this table as a favor. I hired the whole place.”

Shay choked, then became ashen.

“I’m sorry, I should have said something the moment that we came in here and I saw the chandelier and stuff,” Shay whispered urgently, looking sick. “I promised Eden that I’d send most of my salary this month back to our parents. I can’t break that. I don’t think that I can stretch to hiring half a restaurant. Did we pay a deposit or…?”

I gave a soft smile. “ We didn’t do anything. I am rather wealthy, as I keep reminding you. And I want to spend it on the people who I love, including my boyfriend. This is our second date. You paid for the first one. So, this is my treat.”

Shay’s eyes widened. “The first one was a homemade curry that burned your mouth and a horror movie that gave you nightmares.”

“And that’s why I got to choose what we did on this date.”

Shay dropped the menu, laughing brightly.

He leaned across the table and kissed me. “You’re the best, darlin’.”

Now, I pat the side of the booth next to me. “Come here, cucciolo.”

Shay narrowed his eyes. “If you’re going to spank me for stealing your food, then you’ll probably give him…” He nodded at a gray haired waiter with striking amber eyes, who was hovering closest to us, “a coronary.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh. “I know him. And he’d enjoy the free show.” Shay blushed. “Now, are you going to obey? I’ll feed you.”

Shay’s beautiful eyes light up. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Wait, you did, didn’t you?”

He scoots around the booth, until he’s sitting so close to me that his warm thigh is touching mine.

My cock hardens.

My Shay should always be within touching distance.

It’s the only way that I know he’s not doing something reckless or impulsive like climbing onto the roof, driving off a beachside road on his motorcycle, or pushing himself in practice to the point of collapse.

Shay opens his mouth like a baby bird, glancing significantly down at my plate.

Fuck, he’s like sin.

He’s sitting there in public like an invitation to have my cock shoved into his pretty mouth.

Does he know what he’s doing?

I struggle against the urge to push Shay to his knees underneath the restaurant table and have him suck me.

I’ll finish my dessert myself, while feeding Shay a different type of cream.

It’d serve him right…or reward him.

Possibly, both.

I battle against the temptation.

I settle one hand on Shay’s thigh, squeezing, while I lift the full fork to his mouth.

Shay’s eyelashes flutter. He moans indecently as he eats.

It’s a crime to share your tiramisu.

This must be love.

Yet the noises that Shay is now making mean that the sacrifice is worth it.

I watch the way that he leans back, revealing his long pale throat. I can’t wait to kiss and bite it.

I’ve spent our day together trying to ensure that Shay believes that he deserves dates in the same way that Robyn does.

Shay is struggling to understand that our relationship is real.

Why doesn’t he think that he deserves that?

Because he was used by Blythe in college and taught that subs can’t be loved? Are only toys?

Because he was neglected and literally sold by his biological parents?

I am going to find a way to prove to him that Robyn and I want him for something as meaningful as we have with each other.

Today, Shay and I went on a run together, before Shay had fun teaching me about soccer.

He’s a true soccer fan and (unsurprisingly), talented.

He’s fast with the ball, can score goals insanely well, and can do mind-blowing trick shots.

He could have tried out for a soccer team, if he didn’t play hockey.

Then after lunch, I gave Shay another piano lesson.

My most repeated phrases — sit still, concentrate, maintain posture — were needed about half as much as the time before.

So, an improvement.

Shay is working hard. He’s serious about learning. It’s all I can ask for.

He gives a hundred percent in everything that he sets his mind to. I’ve never met anyone as dedicated as him, apart from his twin.

I set down the fork and take a drink of my fruity, white wine. “Mom would make tiramisu for us each Sunday. The smell reminds me…”

I set down my glass, adjusting its placement three times.

It’s bittersweet.

The aroma contains some of my happiest memories, even if they’re lost forever to me.

Did the mom who cooked my favorite meals and worried about me not eating enough, read a story to me each night, wrapped me in scarves and gloves because she obsessed about me being warm enough, truly exist?

The mom who loved me?

Except, it wasn’t unconditional.

Perhaps, she existed.

It was me , the son who she imagined inside her head, who didn’t.

She was the one who built up a son who wasn’t real.

She didn’t want the real me, only her fantasy of a dream son.

As soon as I no longer fitted into the mold that she’d created the moment I was born, she threw me away.

Erased me.

“Where did you go, darlin’?” Shay says, gently.

I blink. “Nowhere good. I’d rather be here with you.”

Shay slips his hand into mine, which is resting on his thigh, firmly.

“You are here, and I’ve got you.” He tightens his hand around mine. “Sundays in my house in Guildford were the only day that my entire family were together and not working. So, they always smelled of this bloody huge English roast dinner for lunch that Mum and Eden would cook together. Mom never had much to spend but she still managed to produce a chicken with gravy and stuffing, these fucking incredible fluffy roast potatoes, and broccoli, carrots, and parsnips. Dad would work overtime to make sure that we could always afford it. Mum was great at making the leftovers stretch in dishes throughout the week. Sunday was my favorite day of the week because I’d have practice at the rink early in the morning, then lunch with my whole family. That smell means being together with them.”

“You miss them.”

I’m going to find a way to fly the twins’ parents out this season.

They shouldn’t miss their sons’ first season in the NHL.

Eden and Shay’s adoptive parents have worked hard to support them since they were kids.

They deserve to see Shay play.

And Shay deserves to have his only family from England watch him.

Shay looks down. “Eden and I knew that leaving them behind was part of moving into the NHL. My parents urged us to follow our dreams. They didn’t need to take us into their house. They didn’t need to give up any hope of having enough money to live comfortably in order to support us. And they bloody didn’t need to then encourage us to move across the Atlantic and away from them. But they did all of that because they’re good people and it’s what was best for us. If it wasn’t for them, then I’d never have learned what loving someone actually means.”

My chest is tight.

I learned the opposite from my parents.

What loving someone fucking doesn’t mean.

I reach to grip Shay’s chin, turning his face up to me. “They are good people. I’ll be forever grateful that Eden and you had them in your life. I’m also going to make sure that I continue to show you what true love is.”

“Now, that’s romantic.”

“It is.” I rub my thumb across Shay’s jaw in circles, and his breath hitches. “On the road trip, don’t forget to phone your mom and dad. They may not be here, but with all our technology, there’s no reason that you can’t message them as often as you like.”

“Are the phones secure though?” Shay looks worried. “What was that truth or dare stuff?”

I draw back from Shay, running my hand through my curls.

What fucking asshole sent that message? Who’s trying to mindfuck me now?

My lips thin. “Security are providing us with new phones. They don’t know who sent that bullshit. That number is untraceable. Garcia is working on it but he doesn’t know how long it will take.”

Dread curdles my guts.

I fiddle with my cufflinks compulsively.

Is it Wilder again? One of the journalists who are connected to Melanie Hest? Someone from my own troubled past?

“Have you played truth or dare?” Shay asks.

I relax. “The kinky version.”

Shay’s eyes become half-hooded. “Of course you have, darlin’. Tell me more.”

I lean closer, sliding my hand up Shay’s thigh, just shy of where I know that he’s aching to be touched.

Shay’s breathing speeds up.

“It was the type of game that included dares like stripping naked and acting like a puppy, being spanked over the back of the couch, or crawling around in a collar and leash for the rest of the night,” I murmur into Shay’s ear, careful to watch his reaction to each dare.

Shay’s pupils become more dilated on every word. By the time that I stop talking, he’s staring into my eyes, wild and fucking turned on.

Nailed it.

Those three ideas are going in the Guide.

Shay swallows. “Where do I sign up to this game?”

When I palm over Shay’s crotch, he only holds back the groan by biting his lip, hard. “You don’t. Did you forget that I’m possessive? You’re Robyn and my pet, remember? When we have you in a collar and leash, as our spanked puppy, that’s just for us.”

“Do you mean that?” Shay’s gaze is intense.

My heart breaks.

“I really am going to tattoo my name on your cock,” when I grip Shay’s dick through the tight material of his pants, his eyes widen, “if you don’t accept how much you’re loved and wanted.”

“I accept it,” Shay replies, quickly.

I stroke over Shay’s cock, before releasing it. “Now that’s settled, what’s been your favorite part of today?”

I want to learn about him.

I lean back in the booth, letting go of his hand. I grab my wine and take another drink.

Sometimes, Shay seems like an open book. But I’m learning that’s not always true.

Shay casts me a shy glance. “The comedy movie that we watched together on the couch after the piano lesson. You were just so relaxed. I enjoyed watching you laugh. I mean, you’re often like that around Robyn. But you’re rarely like that with me.”

I startle.

Shit, is he right?

Shay does tend to bring out the cold and commanding side in me. It’s the way that he leaves trash out, eats jam from the jar, and is getting his kicks from pranking me.

We’re best friends. But guys often want to kick the asses of their best friends, right?

It’s our vibe.

Shay’s a brat, and I’m a brat tamer.

Perhaps, sometimes he likes to see my softer side.

“Since you love comedy,” Shay continues, blithely, “we should watch my favorite one on the next date.”

“You’re not tricking me again.” I wag my finger at him. “You say comedy but what you really mean is…?”

“ Shaun of the Dead . An English horror comedy with flesh-eating zombies and a pub. What could be better?”

He doesn’t mean that ironically, does he?

I narrow my eyes. “A horror film, of course. You worry me sometimes.”

“Thanks, mate.” Shay looks pleased. “I loved the film that you chose. I’ve never seen it. The rodent thingy was cute.”

Is he kidding?

I stare at him. “You’ve never seen Groundhog Day ?”

“As a small kid, I never saw any television. Then my adoptive parents weren’t big on it. Guess I missed it. I loved the idea in the movie of being caught in a time loop, living the same day over and over again. To me, that’s a horror movie. I mean, fine if it’s a bloody brilliant day like today. But what if it’s…?”

Shay’s expression darkens.

I deliberately clink my glass three times, and it snaps Shay back to the present with me and not to whatever day he’s imagining.

It’s not anywhere good.

“I grew up on that movie,” I explain. “It played every year. You know that scene where Bill Murray gets to become a virtuoso on the piano? It made me practice even harder at my lessons. Later, when I was at the discipline school, I held onto the idea that you could make a mistake, fuck up, but instead of your whole life being wrecked forever, you could wake up and try again. Everything would be reset, back to normal. Sometimes, I’d open my eyes, as I lay on the hard mattress and wish so fucking hard that I’d be back in my bedroom at home. Wish that it’d be that school morning, before I chose to bring my friend home from the football team. But this time, I wouldn’t kiss him.”

“I’m glad that your life wasn’t reset.” Shay’s eyes glitter in the dark of the restaurant. “Because what happened wasn’t a mistake. It was who you were, right? Your parents and brother were the ones who fucked up, not you. You shouldn’t have felt that you needed to change for them. I like who you are now. I wouldn’t want to lose that.”

Joy surges through me. My hand tightens on my wine glass.

Warmth fills me in a way that makes tears prickle at my eyes.

I blink them away.

I swallow. “ Like me, huh?”

Shay edges even closer to me, taking the wine glass from me and placing it down.

Then he rests his head on my shoulder, peering up at me through his lashes. “I fucking love you, darlin’.”

His words shoot through me.

They’re electric.

Yet I remain frozen, allowing the feel of Shay, warm and secure against my side, to bleed into me.

He makes himself more comfortable, wrapping his arm around my waist.

This feels right.

It’s the perfect end to the perfect date.

Only, it’s not over yet.

My lips quirk. “Comfortable?”

Shay squirms around again. “Getting there.”

I grab him by his golden tumble of hair and yank his head up to force him to look at me. “I’m so pleased. But don’t get too comfortable because this date isn’t winding down just yet.

“Fantastic. I could die for an espresso about now.”

I chuckle. “I can order you one without it costing your life. But I also have a secret.”

“A good one?” Shay asks, eagerly.

“Very.” I lean to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

He kisses back more passionately, tightening his hold around my waist. Our tongues twine.

He tastes deliciously sweet, of coffee and chocolate. I can taste my own dessert on his lips.

Reluctantly, I draw back.

“What’s the secret?” Shay gazes at me like I’m a god.

My breath stutters.

I’m never going to get tired of Shay looking at me like I hang the fucking moon.

“This restaurant is also a boutique hotel with a small number of rooms above it. I’ve hired them all as well. So, we’re staying here tonight.” My smile becomes devilish. “Robyn cleared it as a reward for our hard work on the rink. Security are outside. We have one night entirely to ourselves. I can keep the promise to tie you to the bed. There’s nobody to hear you. So, cucciolo, you can scream as loudly as you like. All. Night. Long.”