“I’m sure you did. You’re pretty creative.”

Mac snickered and swatted Sully on the ass. “Shower. Now.”

Sully didn’t bother concealing his smile as he stepped across the bathroom. Mac grabbed a bottle of lube and followed him into the shower.

“Against the wall.”

Sully complied.

Mac slicked his cock with lube and then worked some into Sully with his fingers to loosen him. “You like that?”

Sully’s eyes dropped closed. “Would I let you if I didn’t?”

Mac chuckled. “Nope. You’d make my life miserable.” He pressed his cockhead against Sully’s dark hole. Both men groaned as Mac slowly seated himself inside Sully. With his cock buried to the hilt, he grabbed Sully’s hips and slowly thrust. “I hadn’t even got started,” he whispered in Sully’s ear. “Had a lot more I wanted to do.

What am I gonna do if she’s on the boat with us, hmm?”

“You want to fuck or talk?”

With a hard bump of his hips, Mac thrust deep. “What do you think?”

Sully tried to hold back, his own cock throbbing with every stroke of Mac’s shaft along his gland. After a few minutes, Mac slowed his pace and reached around Sully’s waist. He wrapped his fingers around Sully’s cock and stroked. “Make it fast, man.”

Pushed past the point of conscious will, Sully worked his hips back and forth, between Mac’s talented fingers and his lover’s stiff cock.

“Come now!” Mac growled.

It pushed him over the edge. His hands clenched into fists against the tile wall as his climax washed over him. Mac took that as his cue.

He grabbed Sully’s hips again and pounded into him until he came with a cry, his cock pulsing inside the other man. Mac didn’t move for a moment, leaning against Sully for support and trying to catch his breath. Then he withdrew, turned Sully around, and embraced him as they stepped under the water.

Mac rested his head on the shorter man’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to put a collar on,” he softly said, reverting to gentle Mac.

Back to slave.

Sully closed his eyes and held Mac. “I know you like it.”

After a moment, Mac grabbed the soap. He sank to his knees and, working the soap around Sully’s groin and ass, lathered and washed him before taking care of himself. Once satisfied, he reached for the collar. “Maybe we should take that off.”

“Why?”

Mac shrugged, but wouldn’t meet Sully’s gaze.

Sully grabbed Mac’s chin and forced him to look at him. “Why?”

he quietly but firmly asked.

“It doesn’t look right.”

Sully let him remove it and toss it out of the shower. “But it’s right on the boat?”

“That’s different.”

“It didn’t used to bother you before.”

“I’m not used to seeing you like that at home anymore.”

Bless his heart, Mac was a creature of habit. It didn’t matter that he was a “strong” man. He was, in his heart, a slave. He’d embraced it, eagerly, and enjoyed living for his Master. Mac liked clearly defined rules and roles, enjoyed his limited time in charge because it felt natural to him to be in charge on the Dilly.

At home, however, it was a different matter since their routine had changed over the years.

“Turn around,” Sully commanded. “Let me look at your ass.”

Mac snorted in amusement even as he complied. Sully skimmed his hand down Mac’s flesh. The welts he’d opened last night were healing over. While bruised, he saw no sign of infection. “When we get done, let me put some ointment on that before you get dressed.”

Mac stepped under the spray to shampoo his hair. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Anytime.” He poked him in the stomach. “You’ll have to bank your punishment strokes over the next couple of days. I don’t want to give you new ones until you’ve healed more.”

Faltering only a little, Mac barely missed a beat in his reply. “You too chicken to hit me?”

“No,” Sully growled. “I don’t like to break my toys.”

Mac froze, then burst out laughing. “Yes, Master.”

“You don’t have to take them, you know. You can renegotiate that boundary so there’s no punishment.”

The expected answer. “No, Master. Thank you, but I’ll take them.

I don’t like to change the rules.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Mac was, if nothing else, sweetly predictable.

It didn’t hurt he was a masochist.

* * *

After their shower, Sully retreated to his office. Mac brought him coffee.

Clarisse still slept.

Mac cooked Sully breakfast and brought it into the office for him.

Sully was already engrossed in his latest manuscript. “Thank you,” he mumbled as he studied his laptop screen.

Mac hesitated, then knelt beside Sully’s chair, waiting.

Sully hoped his sigh wasn’t audible. He saved his file and twined his fingers in Mac’s hair. “Yes, slave?”

“What do you want me to do today?”

Poor Mac, he really felt out of sorts with their plans upended.

“Chores around the house, take Clarisse to see Tad, stay there with her. Maybe take her out to dinner if she feels up to it.”

Mac looked up, startled. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Leave you alone all day?”

He moved the breakfast plate out of the way and tapped the corner of his desk. “Talk to me, Brant.”

Mac perched on the corner of the desk. The forced equality when in slave mode always knocked Mac mentally off balance. “I’m trying to wrap my head around it. I admit I need to let you be in charge of this, but it’s hard for me to not think about Betsy.”

“I know. Clarisse trusts you. She needs that in her life and I don’t begrudge it. I’m not jealous. I trust you.”

Mac laced his fingers together in his lap. “Thank you, Master,” he quietly said. “For helping her.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged but didn’t respond.

“Brant, she’s Tad’s niece. There’s no way I wouldn’t help her, just on that basis alone. Yes, it pisses me off she’s scared of me, but I understand why and don’t blame her. I still wouldn’t walk away from the situation.”

Mac took Sully’s hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it. “Thank you, Master.” He slipped off the desk and left the room, quietly closing the office door behind him.

Sully leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. What a mixed bag. Why was he doing this? He could have easily contacted the police yesterday morning as soon as they returned to port, helped her file a report, and got her set up at a cheap motel nearby within walking distance of Tad. That would have been more than generous. And Mac’s life wouldn’t have been completely upended, nightmares from his past returning to haunt him.

He closed his eyes and thought about her terrified blue gaze. He’d be lying if he denied he wanted a chance to erase her fear.

He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to her.

Too late to back out now.

* * *

After finishing his breakfast, Sully engrossed himself in his writing again. Just when he’d hit a groove, he heard her moving around in her bathroom next door, heard the toilet flush, the sink run.

Then her bedroom door opened and almost immediately Mac’s voice greeted her, full of forced cheer. He had expected Mac’s refusal to renegotiate the daily punishment strokes for wearing clothes. It didn’t mean it didn’t surprise him.

He waited a few minutes before carrying his empty coffee mug and plate out to the kitchen. He took great pains to circle around her to avoid where she sat at the counter. “Good morning, Clarisse.” He risked a glance at her.

“Good morning.” She didn’t look at him, studied the coffee mug and plate of food in front of her. Her hair hung loose, hiding her face.

She reminded him of a beat dog.

His sudden anger surprised him. If Bryan Jackson appeared on his doorstep, he would kill the fucker. Working hard to keep his rage in check, he slowly set down his mug and walked around the end of the counter to where she sat.

She didn’t turn her head, didn’t look at him.

He sensed Mac’s sudden tension and ignored it.

“Sweetie,” Sully softly said, “please look at me.”

He waited her out. After a long moment, she tilted her gaze toward him but didn’t fully lift her head.

He slowly reached out, hating that she flinched. He watched her tense, fight or flight instincts warring for control.

Undaunted, he swept her hair back and carefully tucked it behind her ears. Then he caught her chin. She didn’t resist when he tipped her face, her frightened blue eyes darting past him to Mac.

Again he waited her out, until her gaze settled on him and didn’t leave.

“May I ask a favor?” he asked.

She barely nodded.

“Would you please wear your hair back? For me? You have beautiful eyes.” He brushed the tip of her nose with his finger. “I’ve always been a sucker for blue eyes.”

Finally, the hint of a smile.

Mac snorted behind him. “I thought you loved my eyes.”

Sully’s gaze didn’t leave hers. “I love your ass, Mac. Yes, your eyes are nice, but hers are pretty. Do you really want me calling you

‘pretty eyes’?”

A little more of a smile. Her bruised flesh crinkled around the corners of her eyes.

Bingo.

“She has very pretty eyes,” Sully repeated.

Mac walked over, apparently understanding what Sully was trying to accomplish. “Yes, you’re right, Master. Her eyes are definitely prettier than mine.”

“I mean, I can make you wear a dress, if you really want me calling you pretty—”