Made to Order by Brigham Vaughn

TEN

Somehow, Tyler made it through the rest of the week with Rachael gone. He had a new appreciation for everything she took care of on a daily basis. She definitely deserved this vacation.

He’d thought, as bar manager, he was prepared for running the tavern. It turned out there was a whole lot more to it than he’d ever anticipated. Tyler spent way less time behind the bar and way more time working in his office. And working with Donovan. Which was a good thing … and a bad thing.

Good, because he was really starting to appreciate all that Donovan did for the place. And a couple of times when something had come up that Tyler had no idea how to handle, he’d turned to Donovan and he’d offered a few good suggestions.

It was a hell of a lot nicer working together instead of being at each other’s throats all the time. But it was distracting as hell. He found himself studying Donovan’s freckled arms, with their swirls of black ink, and thinking about how much power was contained within them.

Thinking about the way those long fingers, with their faint burns and scars, had felt on his skin. How they’d wrapped around his dick and stroked. How they’d slapped his cock and balls until he’d felt like he was ready to turn inside out. How he’d liked that.

Tyler shuddered, his dick beginning to fill underneath the soft black fabric of the pants he wore. He shifted in his seat, half of him wanting to sit here and let his mind wander back to that night, the other half knowing he really, really needed to focus on work.

“Tyler Hewitt!”

Donovan’s voice rang through the halls of the not-yet-open-for-the-day tavern and Tyler sat bolt upright, heart hammering.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “What did I screw up now?”

Donovan stalked into Tyler’s office, a scowl on his face. Shit, why is that hot?

At this point, a pissed-off Donovan Ryan was like his personal porn fantasy brought to life. Unfortunately, Tyler was pretty sure he wasn’t about to get bent over his desk.

Tyler stood and squared his shoulders. “Could you not bellow at me? I’m not going deaf.”

“Why do I have twelve cases of whole canned tomatoes in my kitchen?”

“What?” Tyler reached for the folder with the order form. “That’s not right. It was supposed to be one case of twelve cans.”

“I’m well aware.” Donovan crossed his arms over his chest. Tyler tried not to notice how damn good he looked doing it. How hot he was with that scowl on his face and his white chef coat on. “But for some reason we have one-hundred-forty-four cans.”

“Shit.” Tyler skimmed the purchase order and frowned. “No, I got it right. One case.” He stood and thrust the form out to Donovan. “See?”

Donovan took it from him, a furrow appearing between his brows, crinkling the freckled skin. “Huh, yeah you do have it right.”

Tyler sighed.

He wished Donovan had given him the benefit of the doubt, but oh well, at least he’d admitted Tyler was right now. He would take it as a win.

“Let me call the distributor and get this straightened out. I’ll get them to pick up the extras and refund the money.”

“Thank you.” Donovan grimaced. “I am sorry if I overreacted. I should have checked with you first.”

Tyler patted Donovan’s chest. “I think a couple of weeks ago you would have taken my head off and insisted it was my fault. So, I guess this is progress or something.”

Donovan’s stern expression softened, his eyes twinkling. “Guess so.” He leaned in, speaking quietly in Tyler’s ear. “I was almost looking forward to you making a mistake though. I was going to take it out on your ass tomorrow night.”

“You still could,” Tyler whispered.

Donovan’s grin widened. “Good to know.” His gaze dropped to Tyler’s lips. “God, I wish I could do it right now. Bend you over that desk and smack your ass with whatever I could get my hands on.”

Tyler shivered. It was so close to what he’d been thinking about earlier. “Yeah, me too.” His voice was soft but hoarse.

“I can tell. You’re getting hard just thinking about it.” He brushed the back of his knuckles across the front of Tyler’s pants.

Donovan faced away from the office door but God this was risky. There were people around, and the last thing Tyler wanted was to explain to anyone that he was involved with a man. But he was so turned on he could barely draw in a full breath.

Tyler stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “Yeah, well … I know what I like.”

“So do I.” Donovan’s smile was slow and suggestive. “And don’t worry. I’ll give you that tomorrow night.”

Donovan disappeared through the door of Tyler’s office, leaving him with a racing pulse and a raging hard-on.

He dropped into his chair, breathing hard. Fuck.

* * *

When Rachael walked through the doors of the tavern the following morning, a cheer went up from the staff. Tyler was as loud as any of them.

“God, it’s good to see you,” he said, giving her a heartfelt hug when she approached.

Rachael laughed, hugging him back. She looked relaxed and happy, her skin lightly tan. “Realized my job is tougher than you imagined, huh?” Her eyes twinkled.

“So much harder.” He let out a sigh.

“I half expected to come back and see the building flattened from the blast of your collision with Donovan.”

Tyler’s lips twitched as he tried to fight back a smirk. “We made it work.”

Truthfully, he was a little surprised by that too. Turned out, all it took was getting kinky together. Sure, they’d sparred over the tomato delivery yesterday, but it was really just foreplay.

“I see that.” Her expression grew more serious. “I was only teasing. I had faith in both of you. Especially you, Tyler. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t struggle a little the first day or two to let go of thinking about work, but honestly, I knew you had this. I’d feel great turning the place over to you any time, and I don’t say that lightly.”

“I know you don’t. But maybe give me a small break before you jet off on any more vacations,” he said jokingly, though he meant it. He really, really didn’t want to try managing the whole place on top of everything else he had going on in his life right now.

“Done. I’ve missed being here.” She looked around with a fond smile.

“Did you have fun on your trip?”

“I did.” Contentment radiated from every inch of her. “My guys are incredible. They spoiled me. They even booked me a spa day at an amazing place up in Traverse City. Plus, the wine and beer tasting … you’d love it, Ty. I brought home some amazing stuff to try that I want to talk to you about stocking here.”

“Ooh, fun. I’m looking forward to checking it out.”

“We’ll definitely figure out a time for that soon,” she said. “I should let you get back to brunch service.” She glanced around. “Looks like it’s going smoothly enough.”

“So far so good.” He rapped his knuckles on the bar.

“Thanks again.” She squeezed his upper arm in a gesture that would have made him melt when he was about fifteen. He’d had such a crush on her then. And while she was still gorgeous now, they’d become too good of friends for him to think of her that way anymore.

And, he realized, as a pretty blonde in a short summer dress sauntered by, shooting an appreciative gaze at him as she passed, he just wasn’t really noticing that many women these days. Of course, he did have a bit of a distraction in the form of a tall redheaded chef …

“I’d like to sit down with you and Donovan after service is over tonight,” Rachael continued. “Is that okay? Just a quick debrief so you can both catch me up on things.”

“Sure,” Tyler said though a flicker of nerves went through him. He hoped he could maintain a poker face with Donovan sitting a few feet away.

And damn it, he’d been looking forward to heading out to Donovan’s place as quickly as possible after. Goosebumps rose on his skin as he wondered what was in store for him tonight. Whatever it was, he knew it would be good.

* * *

After the last of the diners had cleared out and the restaurant was closed for the day, Tyler stepped into Rachael’s office with Donovan on his heels. They both took seats in the chairs across from her desk. Tyler shot Donovan a quick, furtive glance to see how he was feeling about this, only to find him with an equally apprehensive expression on his face.

Rachael chuckled softly. “No need to look so worried, gentlemen. I’ve been going over everything from the week and you both did a fantastic job while I was gone.”

“Tyler did the bulk of it,” Donovan said. “And he did it well. There were a few issues but that’s to be expected and he was able to resolve them all.”

Tyler shot him a startled glance. The first few days had been a little rocky. He was surprised to find Donovan so ready to go to bat for him.

“And Donovan was more than willing to work with me on stuff,” Tyler blurted out. Oh fuck, now he was suddenly thinking about Donovan’s hand on his cock, working him over. Nope, nope, I do not need an erection in front of my boss. He shifted in his chair and caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of Donovan smirking at him. Apparently, he’d picked up on Tyler’s predicament.

Knowing Donovan, he was probably wishing he had that vibrating plug up Tyler’s ass right now. Which reminded Tyler he definitely needed to let him know that anything like that was one hundred percent off-limits at work.

“Well, I’m thrilled how well you two worked together this week,” Rachael continued with a smile.

Tyler’s cheeks warmed.

She glanced between Tyler and Donovan again. “I didn’t expect you two to kiss and make up, but it really is a relief to hear that you worked together so well.” She cleared her throat. “Now, there’s just one more thing I’d like to mention.”

“What’s that?” Donovan asked with a puzzled frown.

“Did either of you remember that the back hallway has a camera in it?”

Tyler nodded, his eyes widening as he suddenly remembered the other morning when Donovan had pinned him up against the fire door and kissed the hell out of him. Fuck.

“I generally don’t even review the footage,” she said. “It’s only there for security reasons in case of a break-in or other major issue but when the storm happened and the power went out for a few seconds, it interrupted the feed. I wanted to take a look to make sure everything was up and running properly. While I was in there, I skimmed all the footage from when I was gone … I’m sure you can see why I’m bringing it up.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tyler snuck a glance at Donovan, whose wide-eyed expression mirrored exactly how Tyler felt.

“Now, as I said, I’m thrilled you two kissed and made up. I just didn’t expect that to be quite so … literal.”

Tyler grimaced. “I’m so sorry, Rach. I …” But he really had no good excuse. He should have known the damn thing was there. He remembered the hot female technician who had installed it a few years back. He’d gone on a couple of dates with her after, in fact.

“I’m sorry too,” Donovan said. His voice sounded a little strained. “That was unprofessional of us. We uh—well this is new and …” He cleared his throat. “We both got a little carried away. But I take full responsibility for it and—”

Rachael held up a hand and looked between the two of them. “I truly don’t care what you get up to together in your free time. It’s none of my business and I only want you both to be happy and have a good working relationship. That being said, it should not be happening at the restaurant, don’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely.”

Their words of agreement overlapped, and Rachael nodded. “Good. The cameras don’t cover all the building, however. Can I be assured there were no health code violations that happened after the kiss?”

Donovan blanched. “No! Never in the kitchen or the dining areas. We uh”—he cleared his throat—“everything remained in the office or hallway.”

“Good. Now, I think that’s enough said on the subject, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Tyler fidgeted in his chair. “Um, can I ask you something? Did anyone else see the footage?”

She shook her head, a puzzled look crossing her face. “No, I was reviewing it in here on my computer. Why?”

“And no one else knows? You haven’t mentioned it to anyone on staff?” He couldn’t look Donovan in the eye. God, it was one thing to have Rachael realize he was hooking up with another man, but the thought of the rest of the staff knowing? Ugh. He didn’t need that shit in his life. He was only starting to make sense of this in his own head. Answering people’s questions about it … no way.

“No,” Rachael said firmly. “It isn’t my place to ever spread any gossip about my staff’s private lives. You have all been more than understanding about my relationship, and I know it isn’t something a lot of people are comfortable with.”

“Hey, I just want you to be happy,” Tyler said. He couldn’t imagine wanting a poly relationship. The thought of sharing someone … no that had never felt right to him. Not someone he really loved anyway, though he hadn’t had much of that in his life.

“And I want the same for both of you. Whether that’s together or apart, I support you both. Just don’t let it impact your work.”

“It won’t.” Tyler licked his lips. “Thanks for not spreading my business around the restaurant. I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, he’s ashamed to admit he has a thing for gingers.” Donovan’s voice was laced with amusement, and when Tyler glanced at him, he winked.

A little of Tyler’s tension eased at the knowledge Donovan wasn’t offended that he didn’t want their coworkers to know about them.

Tyler chuckled and shook his head. “It is pretty crazy. I had no idea I’d be into that.”

Rachel laughed. “Sometimes we meet people who offer us something no one else can. I know that as well as anyone.”

Tyler’s expression sobered. He’d never thought of it that way but maybe that was why this thing with Donovan was so damn good. Why he had been eagerly looking forward to their next hookup.

Donovan had definitely given him something no one else ever had before.

A chance to just let go and stop thinking about everything going on in his life.

And damn, was that nice.

* * *

After their typical post-work shower at Donovan’s place to wash off the sweat and kitchen smells, he threw Tyler a towel. “Dry off and stay naked.”

“Okay.” Tyler scrubbed the towel across his chest. “Then what?”

“I think you should make us something to eat.”

“What?” Tyler blinked. He’d been expecting something … a whole lot kinkier than that.

“Yeah. Scrambled eggs and toast. Bacon.”

“I, uh …” Tyler grimaced as he took a seat on the edge of the bathtub, drying between his toes. “I’m really bad in the kitchen.”

Donovan narrowed his eyes. “How bad is bad?”

“I end up burning the toast, and eggs are always kinda … rubbery.” He stared up at Donovan with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Inedible was a better word.

“Oh Jesus.” Donovan finished drying himself, then ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down. “Well, there’s only one way to fix that.” He reached out and hauled Tyler up by his arm. “We’re about to start some cooking lessons.”

“What? How is that kinky?”

Donovan’s grin was so scary it sent a shiver through Tyler’s whole body. “You don’t give me much credit.”

“Oh fuck, what have I gotten myself into?” Tyler muttered.

Donovan pressed against him. “Come on, we both know you like the fear.”

Without really thinking about it, Tyler tossed the towel onto the nearby sink, then settled his hands on Donovan’s chest. There was a light sprinkling of reddish hair across his pecs, not enough to obscure the inked birds in flight.

“Yeah, I do,” Tyler admitted, absently stroking his fingertips across Donovan’s skin.

“Good.” Donovan dipped his head and kissed him. It was brief but thorough, and Tyler panted a little when Donovan stepped away. “Go in the kitchen and get out eggs, bacon, and butter. Then wait for me. I’ll be in momentarily.”

“Okay.” Tyler’s head already felt a little fuzzy at the thought of what was about to happen. He had a sudden memory of the smack of the wooden spoon the first time they hooked up.

Donovan gave him a slow smile, full of promise, and Tyler shivered as he hung the towel on the bar. As he walked down the hall and into the kitchen, the brush of cool air against his still-damp naked skin made a chill go through him. Opening the refrigerator door made it worse. He grimaced as he stared at the orderly contents. Everything was neatly labeled—with dates—and Tyler shook his head. He was pretty neat and tidy because of his military service but this was next-level shit. He supposed it came from Donovan’s chef training.

How in the hell was Tyler supposed to cook well enough to impress someone like that?

It made it easy to find everything he needed at least, and he’d just set it on the counter when he heard soft footfalls approaching. Tyler jerked in surprise when he heard a thump behind him, and turned to see Donovan had dropped his gear bag on a kitchen chair.

Donovan’s grin was full of wicked promise.

“What’s in there?” Tyler asked, nerves and anticipation beginning to build in him.

“You’ll find out.” Donovan plucked a black apron from a hook on the wall. “Put this on.”

“Thanks,” Tyler said, letting out a breath of relief. “I was getting a little concerned that there was going to be bacon grease splattering everywhere and—”

“Safety first.” Donovan smiled at him, his white teeth glistening in the light. The look in his eyes made Tyler tremble.

Donovan rubbed his hands up and down Tyler’s arms, warming the goosebumps all over his skin. Donovan wore a pair of jeans that sat low enough to show off that he definitely wasn’t wearing anything beneath them. “Want me to turn up the heat a little?”

“Yeah, that would be good,” Tyler said. He was fairly sure he was going to be sweating eventually, but in the meantime …

Donovan disappeared into the hall and a moment later, the heat kicked on. When Donovan returned, he looked Tyler up and down. “I think I’d like to put one thing on you before we begin.” He unzipped the bag, fished something out, and held up a black metal chain.

Tyler gulped. “Nipple clamps?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Fuck.”

“Ever tried them?”

“Not on myself,” Tyler admitted. And the ones he’d used on a former girlfriend were pretty wussy ones. These looked heavy duty.

“No time like the present.”

Donovan stepped toward him. He licked his thumb, then flicked it against Tyler’s nipple, making him jerk in surprise. A moment later he felt the cool touch of metal and he looked down to see Donovan turning a little screw on the clamp. He hissed as it tightened, but it sent a little jolt of pleasure through him too.

Donovan did the same to the other one. It wasn’t until Donovan let go of the heavy weighted chain that Tyler cried out. He gripped the counter behind him as the clamps shifted and sent jagged little sparks of need into his belly. “Fuck!”

“Good fuck?”

Tyler gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

“Apron on now.”

Carefully, Tyler slipped the fabric over his head, then tied it tightly around his waist. Every movement was agony, sending a sharp jolt through his body, but when he was done, it settled to a low, dull ache.

“Wash your hands.”

He soaped his skin alongside Donovan. Every movement tugged at the clamps, and Tyler’s cock slowly filled, beginning to push at the fabric of the apron.

After Donovan dried his hands, he was all business.

“First things first, lay out everything you’ll need. The French term for this is mis en place. It means prepping your ingredients before you begin cooking.

“We’ll begin with the bacon. We’re going to cook it in the oven on a tray. Normally for baking, we pre-heat the oven, but the bacon curls less if you start out with a cold temp.”

Tyler listened as Donovan pulled out a baking sheet with a metal gridded rack on top. Tyler did as instructed, laying out the bacon on the rack and sliding it into the oven Donovan had just turned on. His head swam with the feeling of the clamps tugging at him.

“Now eggs. I keep it simple; whole eggs, a little butter, salt, and pepper.” He laid everything out. “I want you to crack four eggs into that bowl.” He pointed at a clear glass bowl.

Tyler flipped open the lid of the carton. They were colorful eggs, various shades of browns and greens.

“Huh.” He picked up a green one, hissing as his forearm brushed his sensitive nipple. “This is cool.”

“Those are from a local farmer,” Donovan said. “Heritage breeds tend to have more colorful eggs.”

“Does it change the flavor?” Tyler asked.

“The color of the shell? No. The way they’re raised, yes. Crack one open and you can see the difference there. The shells are thicker and the yolks will be a much richer shade of yellow-orange instead of the paler yellow you’re used to from cage-raised supermarket eggs. Warning, you’ll be punished for every yolk you break or piece of shell that ends up in the bowl.”

Nervous, Tyler tentatively tapped an egg against the edge of the bowl. Nothing happened. He tapped harder and the egg broke. He tried to peel the two halves apart but it shattered, sending several pieces of shell into the bowl along with the egg. Shit.

He looked at Donovan with a grimace.

“We can fish that out.” Donovan retrieved chopsticks and deftly pulled out the shell pieces, counting them off as he deposited them in another bowl. He instructed Tyler to put the larger pieces in there as well. Tyler realized the way Donovan did everything made sense. He was usually trying to scoop the broken bits out with a spoon and toss the shell in the trash under the sink while smearing bits of runny egg white all over his kitchen.

“A better way to crack the egg is to hit it flat against the counter.” Donovan demonstrated, deftly cracking and separating a second egg one-handed.

“Now you try.” He shot a smile at Tyler.

He tried. But the tug of the clamps and the thought of the punishment that would follow made him clumsy and he hit too hard, the egg shattering and yolk and white mingling as they spread all over the counter.

Donovan handed him a paper towel. “Clean up, then try again.”

It took a few tries, but Tyler eventually got the hang of it.

Donovan stepped close when he was done. “Now, time for your punishment.”

Tyler gulped.

“First, take this and whisk the eggs together.”

Tyler tried, clumsily slopping a bit of it out of the bowl. Donovan stepped close behind him, the fly of his jeans brushing against Tyler’s ass. He wrapped his arms around Tyler’s shoulders and held his hand, showing him how to hold the whisk at an angle and the motion to use. With his free hand, he toyed with the clamp on Tyler’s left nipple. Tyler hissed at the sharp jolt that went through him, but it spread heat through his body that made him soften against Donovan’s chest.

“Mmm.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his right hand slowing the whisking motion.

“Nope, keep going.”

Donovan stepped back and Tyler opened his eyes, frowning down at the eggs as he mixed them together, using the motion Donovan had taught him. Huh, they were actually starting to turn a more even yellow color.

Donovan walked away, then returned a moment later. He held up a flat wooden thing. Tyler wasn’t sure if it was a paddle or something for the kitchen.

“What’s that?”

“This is a crêpe turner. It’s one of my favorite tools. Designed for the kitchen, though if you ask me, it works equally well for punishments.”

Both then. Shit.

Donovan smacked the wooden utensil against his own palm. His expression didn’t change but Tyler flinched at the loud sound.

“Now. Keep whisking. I believe I owe you a baker’s dozen smacks.”

The words sent a quake through Tyler’s whole body but he kept whisking.

The first hit landed with a loud pop and Tyler jerked in surprise. The eggs rocked in the bowl but thankfully didn’t splash out that time. The pain registered a second later and he let out a gasp. “Fuck!”

It stung. Holy fuck, did it sting. Tyler groaned, barely managing to continue to whisk as he tried to take a deep breath. Donovan smacked him a few more times, leaving stinging spots in his wake. When Tyler tensed, Donovan stepped closer, running a hand across Tyler’s ass. His hand felt cool in comparison to the heat already radiating from his skin.

“How do you like that?” Donovan asked.

Thatwas a difficult question to answer. It fucking hurt, of course. Tyler didn’t like that. But shit, the way he felt after …

“I mean, it’s supposed to be a punishment, right?” He kept whisking, hoping Donovan wouldn’t call him out on his cagey answer.

“We’ll call it funishment. An excuse to paddle this gorgeous ass.” He rubbed Tyler’s cheek, squeezing a little. “And keep you on track.”

“You think my ass is gorgeous?” Tyler asked with a smirk.

“You know it is.” Donovan stepped back and smacked Tyler again. Once on the meaty part of his cheek, and another on the back of his thigh that made him howl. He nearly lost his grip on the whisk that time, his fingers slippery as his body flooded with pain and heat, making his head swim. “Even better when I’ve marked it all up.”

There was something in Donovan’s voice that made Tyler’s cock throb with need.

“Yeah?”

Donovan tapped his ass with the paddle. “Keep whisking.”

Tyler flinched, anticipating another hit that never came. He resumed the motion with his hand.

Focus.

But Tyler wailed when the next hit came, his shudders tugging at the clamps on his nipples and making his cock even harder.

They went on like that a few more times. Donovan smacking his ass and counting off the hits. Tyler struggling to keep whisking without making an unholy mess.

Tyler’s whole body was hot and sheened with sweat by the time Donovan delivered lucky number thirteen, a solid, heavy smack that landed across both cheeks and made him cry out. He shivered, head hanging low. His ass stung like hell, throbbing a little and his nipples ached. He vaguely became aware that his forearm was beginning to cramp from the whisking as well.

“Arm’s cramping,” he said through clenched teeth, but he continued to whisk.

Donovan laid the paddle on the counter and stepped close behind him. “You can stop.”

Tyler did with a relieved sigh.

“Sorry.” Donovan said. He rubbed his thumb up and down Tyler’s forearm, digging it into the meat of the muscle right below his elbow where it ached. “I forget you haven’t spent years building up those muscles like I have.”

Who’d have thought making eggs was a good workout?Tyler thought hazily. He gasped when Donovan pressed right up against his ass. The denim of his jeans felt rough and abrasive against his tender skin.

“Great job,” Donovan said in his ear. He let go of Tyler’s forearm and ran his palm up Tyler’s arm, then slipped under the apron to toy with the clamp. He slid his other hand under the fabric as well, but much lower, and grasped Tyler’s cock. Tyler was hard.

Painfully so, he realized as Donovan slowly stroked.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Oh, we’ll get to that eventually. We’re not done with your cooking lesson,” Donovan said. “Turn on the front right burner.”

Tyler attempted to focus as he found the right knob and turned it, hearing the click-hiss of the gas burner lighting before bright flames shot out.

“Turn the heat down,” Donovan instructed. “Eggs go low and slow.”

“Really? I figured you’d want a really hot pan. No wonder mine never turn out.”

“Put the pan on the burner. Let it warm for a minute.”

“No butter?”

“Not yet. I like the pan warm before I put it in to melt.”

“Okay.” Tyler gripped the edge of the counter as Donovan continued to jerk him. For a minute or so, there was nothing but the feel of Donovan toying with his cock and his nipple. Donovan rubbed against Tyler’s ass, lightly abrading his sensitive skin, his hard cock pushing insistently against Tyler’s crack. Tyler pushed back.

“Shit.” Donovan flexed his hips. “I can’t wait to fuck you again.” He brushed his lips against Tyler’s neck. “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” Tyler said with a gasp. “Oh fuck. Yes.”

“Mmm.” Donovan scraped his teeth against the muscle on the side of Tyler’s neck, making him groan.

“Now?” He ground against Donovan’s hips, despite the pain that flared from the rough abrasion. Or maybe because of it.

“No. We need to finish—”

A beeping sound interrupted, and Tyler’s head swam as Donovan stepped back. “Gotta check the bacon.”

Tyler let out a frustrated groan and stepped away from the stove. The sharp smack of Donovan’s hand on his ass made him jerk in surprise.

“What was that for?” He rubbed his cheek. Jesus, he had welts. He craned his neck to see them. Yeah, there were raised marks in the shape of the crêpe paddle. No broken skin. Huh.

“Lack of focus.” Donovan opened the oven door and peered in. “Two more minutes on the bacon.”

Tyler snuck a glance to see it did look almost done.

“How the fuck was I supposed to focus with you touching me like that?” Tyler grumbled.

“Butter in the pan.” Donovan pointed, clearly ignoring his question.

“How much?”

Donovan held up his fingers. “That much.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Fat equals flavor.” He shrugged. “I never said these were going to be the most low-calorie eggs ever. But trust me, we’ll work it off tonight.”

Tyler placed the butter in the pan, hearing it quietly sizzle. A rich smell rose in the air. “Mmm, that does smell good.”

“It’ll taste even better, I promise.” Donovan reached for the pan and lifted it, swirling the butter around. “Coat the bottom and sides evenly, let it warm for another few seconds, then pour half the egg in.”

“Okay.” Tyler copied the motions with far less skill, feeling the tug of the nipple clamp. Fuck, that was distracting.

Donovan turned the oven off, then watched as Tyler added the egg to the pan.

Donovan talked him through gently stirring the eggs with a spatula, softly folding them until they were creamy and just starting to come together. “Now a sprinkle of salt.” He’d stepped close again, his voice a soft brush against Tyler’s neck. He settled one hand on Tyler’s hip while he rained salt down on the eggs.

“Now, give it one more gentle stir, then turn off the heat and set it aside.”

Tyler peered into the pan. “Isn’t it still kinda … wet?”

“It is. But the pan retains heat. It’ll continue to cook for a minute or two and by the time it begins to cool, it’ll be perfect.”

That all made sense, so Tyler turned off the heat and set the pan on the cool burner nearby.

Donovan resumed his earlier motions, tugging at Tyler’s cock and teasing his sensitive nipples, grinding his pelvis against Tyler’s ass. “Now I’m going to enjoy you for a moment.”

Tyler let his head fall back against Donovan’s shoulder, his eyes drifting closed. “I think I’m starting to understand why people enjoy cooking.” His words came out a little slurred. God, he was getting close. If Donovan’s hand was slick and he went just a little harder and faster …

Donovan’s chuckle rumbled against his back. “I am more than happy to give you more cooking lessons, if you’re interested.”

“Fuck yes,” Tyler said, rocking shamelessly into Donovan’s grip.

Donovan kept working him up for a minute before he bit Tyler’s neck once, hard, then stepped back. “Okay, time to put the toast in and eat.”

Tyler groaned in frustration but he somehow managed to put the eggs on plates, then sprinkle on a final dash of salt and cracked black pepper as instructed. Donovan toasted and buttered the bread, pulled the bacon out of the oven, and in no time at all, they sat at the kitchen table with delicious-looking food in front of them.

“Holy shit,” Tyler said after he lifted a forkful of fluffy yellow eggs to his mouth. “These are the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever had.” They were creamy and soft without being wet or watery.

Donovan’s face glowed with pleasure. “Nothing rubbery about them.”

“And the toast isn’t even burned. That’s probably only because I wasn’t doing it. I feel like I can’t keep track of it while I’m finishing the eggs.”

“I didn’t quite trust you with handling that part tonight since I have you all worked up and distracted. It’s all about timing. If you take the eggs off the heat early, you’ll have time to focus solely on the toast so you don’t burn it. And everything will still be hot when you’re ready to eat.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” Tyler shifted in his seat as he took a bite of the bacon. Perfectly crispy with just a tiny bit of chewiness. “Bacon’s great too.”

“Yeah, that method is perfect for doing a bunch at once or just not having to focus on it while you work on other things.”

“I’m a convert,” Tyler said. “Baking on a tray for me from now on.”

“How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” Tyler admitted. “Damn, welts, huh?”

Donovan grinned around a piece of toast. “Now you see why the crêpe turner is my favorite toy.”

“I do,” Tyler admitted. “Damn. It’s a lot, but it is fun.”

“Think you’d be up for a little more play after we eat?”

Tyler shifted in his chair. “Fuck yeah.”

Donovan took a big bite of his toast, his blue eyes dancing with amusement and promising Tyler that he was in for it.

Tyler gulped, knowing he would either love what came next, or really, really regret that he’d encouraged Donovan.

Maybe both.

* * *

Tyler’s bare ass rubbed against the top of the kitchen table, the furniture rocking and sliding across the kitchen floor as Donovan thrust into him. Tyler closed his eyes and groaned as heat spread across his skin, urging him to let loose.

“Don’t keep me on edge like this,” he said, curling his fingers around the edge of the table to brace himself. “Fuck. I’m so close.”

“Hold it,” Donovan growled.

Tyler gritted his teeth, colors swimming behind his eyelids as the punch of Donovan’s dick hit that perfect spot inside him. His own cock bobbed, throbbing with the heavy rush of blood.

A sharp tug on the chain between his nipples made Tyler howl, bowing up, abs clenching as all that sensation shot from his chest down to his groin. “Fuck!”

“You like that, don’t you?” Donovan growled.

Tyler couldn’t manage more than a few pants as Donovan continued to thrust into him, his forearm pressing the backs of Tyler’s thighs against Donovan’s sweaty chest. He did something to the nipple clamp on the left and blood rushed back into it, a sharp sting shooting through it and making his cock throb even more insistently. His head swam as Donovan did the same thing to the other one.

He was vaguely aware of a metallic clink as the clamps slid to the tabletop and Donovan’s fingers toyed with his nipples that were a thousand times more sensitive now that the blood had returned.

Tyler groaned, low and long, the desperate need growing with every second. “Please, please …”

“Are you begging for it, Tyler?” Donovan asked.

“Yes! Let me come,” he pleaded. “Please, Donovan.”

Donovan spat, then wrapped his warm spit-slicked palm around Tyler’s cock and stroked. Another thrust and stroke and Tyler was gone, his cock spurting as he clenched around Donovan.

“Oh fuck,” Donovan said roughly. He pushed in with a final, savage thrust, his hips shuddering against Tyler’s ass, his grip tight as Tyler came in gasping waves, his chest heaving and his head so light he saw stars.

Donovan bit his thigh as they both trembled their way through the aftershocks, his groan muffled by Tyler’s skin.

“Fuck,” Donovan said after a minute or so, running his hand up and down Tyler’s quads.

“You just did,” he slurred. “Fucked me stupid.”

“How is that a change from normal?” Donovan teased.

Tyler cracked an eye open to glare at him. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Donovan grinned and Tyler couldn’t stop himself from grinning back.

That smile of Donovan’s was irresistible.

Donovan eased out of him, and Tyler winced. Damn, he was sensitive. He sat up, every inch of his body protesting. “No, I don’t hate you,” he admitted.

Donovan stepped between his thighs, wrapping a hand around Tyler’s cock, smoothing the fluid across the tip, and making Tyler jerk. “You might even be starting to like me a little bit,” Donovan teased.

“I might.” Tyler was a little breathless as he curled his hand around the back of Donovan’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “I might. Just a little bit.”

Donovan laughed against his mouth. “Shower?”

“Mmm, probably a good idea.” Tyler didn’t pull back, and they resumed making out for a while.

“What do you think about staying after?” Donovan said as he drew back. “It’s getting late.”

Tyler snuck a glance at the clock on the stove. Not that late. Since there was no dinner service on Sunday nights, they’d gotten out of the tavern much earlier than usual. After a shower, he’d be fine to drive home, but he found himself nodding instead of saying no.

“Yeah, I could stay.”