“Lie to me one more time and your punishment will be severe.”
Brax huffed.
“Pull out your dick,” Zeke commanded, his tone rough.
I glanced out the window. Although we weren’t on a deserted stretch of road, there weren’t that many cars around and none that would’ve been able to see into the truck. At least not yet.
I could see Brax’s arms moving and I heard the rough scratch of his zipper.
“Now stroke it. Slowly.”
I had no idea how much time passed while that fucking massager drove me out of my mind, but it seemed like time stood still. I wished Zeke would let me stroke my dick. Maybe then I could’ve found some relief.
“Push your jeans down lower on your hips,” Zeke instructed.
Brax shifted again, and I assumed he was shoving his jeans down. I kept my eyes on Zeke, watching the way his eyes darted over to Brax every so often.
A good half hour passed, possibly more, while the three of us sat silently, the road noise and the vibrations from the massagers the only sounds in the truck. Zeke could’ve turned on the radio to make it less tense, but he never did.
Not once did he instruct me to turn down the massager and I started to fear my prostate was going to be numb from this damn toy. Perhaps indefinitely. Which would likely ruin sex for the rest of my life.
Great.
And now I was thinking about it constantly.
It wasn’t until we were on the backroads nearing Zeke’s house that he finally spoke.
“Turn the toys off,” he instructed. “Once we’re in the house, I want you both to remove the massagers. Clean yourself up and join me downstairs. Cowboy, you can start dinner, and pretty boy, I want you naked and laid out on my coffee table. No questions. Understood?”
My dick throbbed, but I managed a firm, “Yes, Zeke.”
Brax, on the other hand, merely grunted.
It was then I knew that whatever this was, whatever had put him in a bad mood, wasn’t going to simply go away.
In fact, I got the feeling it was going to get worse before it got better.
SEVENTEEN
ZEKE
I DIDN’T LIKE THE COWBOY’S attitude one fucking bit. It pissed me off in a way that I didn’t expect. For one, I shouldn’t actually give a shit if he was mad. However, he made it damn near impossible to ignore.
Yeah, I probably should’ve left them at my house while I’d run to meet the client Ben had asked me to meet with. Unfortunately, I’d thought it would be good for them to get out of the house. It seemed to have backfired in my face. And now that we were back at my house, I was ready to dish out some severe punishment.
However, I decided against it.
In fact, I decided to give the cowboy the same treatment he was giving me. If he thought it was appropriate to ignore me and shrug off everything I said, I would show him exactly how it felt.
After I let Tank out into the yard to do his business, I headed upstairs to change out of my suit. Rather than jeans, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants after shucking my underwear. Clothing wouldn’t be necessary for what I had in mind for the pretty boy.
As for the cowboy … well, I was going to let him watch. I damn sure wasn’t going to reward him for his bad behavior. Which meant my only choice was to ignore him. While he worked in the kitchen to make us dinner, he would get a front row seat to me enjoying the hell out of his boyfriend.
I took my time changing. I even took a moment to check my email and to shoot Ben a note letting him know I had visited the client and I would be submitting my proposal for him to review. That wasn’t something he required from me; however, I was still new to the company, and while learning the ropes, I wanted to ensure I met or exceeded his expectations.
When I returned downstairs, the cowboy was in the kitchen, making more noise than usual. And the pretty boy was laid out naked on my coffee table.
“Mmm,” I said when I approached. “Just how I want to see you.” I glanced over at the cowboy. “When you get a chance, make sure you get Tank’s dinner ready, too.”
The cowboy nodded but didn’t verbally respond.
I fought back the urge to confront him. I didn’t approve of this childish behavior. But if I did say something, it would only provoke him. I expected him to talk to me when he had a problem, not bottle it up and pretend it didn’t exist.
Not that I knew what his problem was. He’d been this way since I came down for breakfast yesterday morning. The more time that went by, the worse he got and I was starting to wonder if he even knew why he was pissed. At first he’d simply been quiet, somewhat melancholy. That had twisted and morphed into outright defiance today.
