Tag Team (29 page)

Rig helped him with his coat, while Mason tried to crawl into himself, make himself even smaller. His tension was apparently obvious to his men, because they instantly wrapped their arms around him and whispered encouraging words, the exact ones lost in the roar of his pulse in his ears.

A stunning man with long, dark curls stood next to Ty at the bar in nothing but a pair of tight leather shorts and a matching collar around his neck, from which a leash was attached. To look at his face, he looked kind of sweet and innocent, but the gold rings in his nipples and striking tattoos, one of which was a handgun handle peeking up out of his shorts, spoke of anything but innocence. In his hand he held the other end of the leash, twirling it while he spoke. Even from this distance he was overwhelming, which meant it had to be Micah. There was just something about the man that screamed, naughty… and loud… and….

Fuck! It had been months since Mason had had a full-blown panic attack, but he recognized the signs as they seeped into him. His pulse began to race, his lungs constricted, and he felt dizzy as a sliver of dread trickled down his spine.
I can’t do this. I can’t!

Breathe.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” Rig said soothingly, stopping their forward motion, and turned Mason, cupping Mason’s face in both of his hands. “Right here, boy. Focus on me.”

Mason met Rig’s eyes, struggling to get air into his lungs, trying to focus on those concerned-filled eyes. A strong body pressed against his back, and Bobby’s scent enveloped Mason. His soft lips pressed against the side of his neck, murmuring, “We have you. Just breathe, baby,” over and over.

“That’s it,” Rig said in a low voice as Mason’s wild eyes settled on him. Rig kissed Mason’s lips, his cheeks, forehead, nose, even his eyes; each press of soft lips to his face helped to unfurl the tension, and before long, Mason found himself breathing to the same rhythm as Rig’s even breath. The club, the people, the very world faded away until it was just the three of them, and the panic drained from him.

“Remember what we told you,” Rig said once Mason had calmed. “These are our friends and they would never do anything to upset you. More importantly, you are here as our boy and not one single person in this room will address you without our permission, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Mason sighed.

“If one asks to address you and you don’t feel comfortable just squeeze my hand or pinch me or kick Bobby,” he chuckled. “Something to let one of us know you’re feeling uncomfortable and we will deny the request, understand?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Mason murmured in relief.

“Just remember if you choose to kick me,” Bobby said and grabbed Mason’s ass and squeezed. “I get to take it out on this gorgeous piece of flesh later.”

Mason bit his lip, but he was unable to hold back the smile. “Yes, sir. I’ll be sure to kick you at least once then.”

Rig kissed him one last time, laughing against Mason’s lips. “That’s my boy,” he crooned and then winked at Bobby as he took up Mason’s hand again, lacing their fingers.

“Mine too,” Bobby said, arching a brow at Rig, but he was smiling just as broadly and grabbed Mason’s other hand, holding it possessively.

Mason looked back and forth between the men, in fucking awe. He had been seconds away from full-blown crazy, and not only had they recognized what was happening but were able to pull Mason back from the edge, ground him, and make him smile. He could do this; as long as Bobby and Rig were close, he had no doubt he could.

He smiled up at them again and allowed them to lead him over to meet their friends.

“Bobby! Rig! How the hell are you?” A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair came toward them, hand outstretched.

Rig was the first to accept it. “Good. Good. How about you?”

The stranger shook Bobby’s hand before answering and to Mason’s great relief ignored him for the most part. “Can’t complain.” He coughed, bringing his fist to his mouth and mumbling, “Even if two weeks became three months.”

“And you loved every damn minute of it. Oh and I found a quite impressive device that you left behind.”

The man tilted his head and gave Bobby a dubious look.

“Silver? Metal? Anal?”

“I was wondering where the hell that plug was.” He shrugged, unembarrassed, his smile wry when he added, “I’m sure Micah will be thrilled it’s been located.”

“I’m sure he will,” Rig chuckled.

Ah, so this was Micah’s Dom, Tackett. Mason discreetly scanned his eyes over the broad chest and muscular arms. There was an air of authority, a confidence exuding from the man, and Mason had no doubt he was more than capable of handling the overwhelming man at the bar.

“And this beautiful creature must be Mason. May I?” he asked, looking between Rig and Bobby.

Mason stiffened but didn’t send a signal of objection, and after a brief pause: “Tackett Austin, Mason Howard,” he said proudly and puffed out his chest.

Tackett held out his hand, and Mason, keeping his eyes low, accepted the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Austin, sir.”

“Oh he is lovely. I can see why you’ve stayed away so long. Nice to meet you as well, Mason.”

Mason sighed when the focus left him and took Bobby’s hand again as the three men talked, and Mason took the opportunity to check out the club around him. The décor looked brand new, a mix of modern and medieval, which, oddly enough, worked. The high-gloss black tables and chrome mingled nicely with the heavy leather couches and wrought-iron hanging lanterns. The one thing that seemed out of place was the dance floor in the center of the room with its colorful lighting and disco balls above.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Max’s familiar voice sounded from behind Mason.

Mason turned and before he thought better of it, called out excitedly, “Max!” He heard Rig chuckle next to him, and Mason’s cheeks heated. “Sorry. Good evening, Mr. Maxwell, sir,” he corrected.

Max, Bobby, and Rig exchanged looks, and then Max held out his arms. Mason went to him easily. “You look wonderful, Mason,” Max said, hugging him.

Mason hadn’t seen him since he’d left Florida. The video chats were nice, but it wasn’t the same as actually being in his presence. “Thanks to you,” Mason said with an honest smile. “Well, you and those two,” he added with a tilt of his head toward Bobby and Rig.

It was only then that Mason spotted the smaller man standing just behind Max. He was of average height, which put him a couple of inches taller than Mason. He wasn’t wearing a single bit of leather except the black belt around his dark jeans and black boots. His pale-blue dress shirt matched his eyes. He was classically handsome, with just a hint of pretty. He fit well standing next to Max.

“Oh, my apologies,” Max said and put his arm around the man. “Aiden James, Mason Howard. Mason, Aiden.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aiden greeted, Mason returning the pleasantries. He looked back and forth between the two men, and he knew by the look on Max’s face as he stared at Aiden that it was the same man who had been just out of frame on the video chat.

“Shall we make our way to the bar,” Tackett offered. “I hear Blake has made sure your favorite scotch is on hand,” he said to Bobby.

Bobby put his hand around Mason’s waist as they followed the small crowd. “I’ll have to take a rain check, we have plans later,” he said, winking at Mason.

Mason was beginning to feel like a fool for getting so worked up about meeting Bobby and Rig’s friends. So far they all seemed to be great people, and even above that, he felt silly for not trusting his men to know what he could and couldn’t handle.

Ty smiled broadly when he saw Mason, but he didn’t move to approach him. The short stocky man seemed to be standing taller, his shoulders squared, and if possible the confident man seemed even more so. Mason suspected that the lean dark-haired man with an arm wrapped around Ty’s waist, a possessive hand on his hip, was the reason.

The Doms all greeted each other, chatting, while Mason and the other subs stayed quiet. The man with Ty was in fact his Dom, Blake Henderson. The vibrating man on the other side of Ty was none other than Micah Slayde. Mason hadn’t been introduced to him yet, but he knew by the way Tackett had moved immediately to the man’s side and whispered something in Micah’s ear that made him smile broadly. So many muscular, confident, and attractive Dominants surrounded Mason, but he found he couldn’t take his eyes off Micah. He’d never seen a man so beautiful, so alive and animated even as he struggled to stand still. His lip was curled into a naughty grin, and his eyes never seemed to settle on one thing for very long. Mason was surprised to find that he couldn’t wait to meet the intriguing man.

Finally, Mason was introduced to Blake, whose voice shocked Mason at how deep and pleasant it was. He’d given Mason a warm smile and welcome but hadn’t lingered nor initiated any further conversation. In fact, everyone, while not ignoring Mason, didn’t push for small talk or overwhelm him. Again, Mason silently chastised himself for not trusting his men. He wouldn’t make the mistake again.

“So glad you’re here,” Ty said earnestly as they hugged.

Then he was introduced to Micah. “Nice to meet you,” Mason said politely.

“Oh. My. God, you have got to be the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Micah practically lunged at Mason, startling him, and wrapped him in a hug. “I’ve been dying over here. Dying, to say hello and see if your voice was as adorable as you are and it is.”

“Pup,” Tackett said with a snap of authority in his voice that Micah responded to immediately.

Mason was instantly released, and a properly chastised Micah slunk back to his Dom’s side with a guilty expression. “Sorry, sir,” he apologized plaintively.

“Are you okay?” Rig whispered.

Mason looked up at him, confused. Only then did he realize he’d been standing there with a perfect stranger crowding him, rambling a mile a minute, and he hadn’t even felt a slight bit of unease. Mason smiled at Rig and nodded. “Yeah, I am.” And as shocking as it was, he really was okay.

After a tour of the very impressive members-only area of the club, the Doms decided to play a game of five-card stud to settle an argument; Mason had no clue what that meant and didn’t ask. He was still blatantly staring at Micah, watching every move he made. He found himself drawn to the man like a moth to a light.

“You want to come sit with us?” Rig asked Mason discreetly, Bobby still holding Mason’s hand.

Ty, Micah, and Aiden waited patiently a few feet away. There was still some time before the official celebration began, and they decided to take the opportunity to catch up and spend time together before they had to lower their eyes and adhere to the protocol their Doms set for them.

“I think I’d like to sit with them,” he said, nodding toward the subs. “That is if it’s okay.”

Bobby squeezed his hand, and Rig smiled before kissing Mason soundly. “It’s more than okay.”

“Yell if you need us,” Bobby added, kissing the back of Mason’s hand before releasing it. He then pressed his lips softly to Mason’s before he and Rig joined the other men at the poker table.

Ty winked at Mason as he joined them. Ty and Micah grabbed four bottles of water from the bar, and together the four of them settled at a table on the other side of room.

“I feel as if I owe you an apology,” Mason told Micah as he played with the cap on his water bottle.

“Why is that?” Micah asked, puzzled.

“I’m sure you were told about my… issues, and here I’m the one probably making you feel uncomfortable with the way I’ve been staring at you.”

“I get that a lot,” Micah snickered. “I’m a little twitchy and people seem to be waiting to see if I’ll explode or something.”

“A little?” Ty said incredulously.

Micah responded by sticking his tongue out at him.

Mason shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking that at all. You’re very beautiful and—”

Ty sighed dramatically. “It’s going to be his head exploding if you make it any bigger,” he grumbled.

“Ignore him,” Micah said with a wave toward Ty. “He’s bitter because my exploding head is bigger than his.”

“Bullshit’s getting deep, Slayde. Good thing I wore my boots,” Ty laughed and propped his cowboy boots on Micah’s lap and leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his face.

Micah rolled his eyes and shoved Ty’s feet off his lap, but he was smiling fondly at Ty as Micah moved his chair closer to Mason. “Thank you for the compliment,” Micah said sincerely.

“You’re welcome. It’s not just your beauty. Although you are beautiful,” Mason admitted with a smile. “It’s like you have this amazing amount of confidence that just exudes out of you. I envy you that.”

“Oh it’s not so much confidence. I call it scatterbraineditis,” Micah snorted. “I can be a little overwhelming at times.”

Mason turned to Ty when he started to laugh, but he quickly covered it up with a cough and turned to chat with Aiden.

“I’d heard that about you,” Mason responded. “I’ll admit I was a little scared of you, but….” Mason shrugged. “You’re not as bad as I thought.”

Micah stuck his bottom lip out and pouted. “Damn, and here I was doing my best to be really naughty tonight.”

“Why?”

Micah picked up his leash and twirled it. “’Cause Tackett and I are the entertainment tonight, and the more I get him worked up, the hotter my man is.” Micah leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “And Vincent will be here tonight and I can’t wait to rub it in his face.”

“Who?”

“No one important,” Micah sniffed. “Just someone who needs a little karma bitch slap.”

“You really are naughty, aren’t you?” Mason chuckled.

“You have no idea,” he said evilly.

An hour later Rig and Bobby came to stand next to Mason’s chair where he had been chatting and laughing so hard his stomach muscles were sore with Ty, Micah, and Aiden. He couldn’t remember having this much fun in a club, ever! Not that he’d been in a lot of them, but still.

“The doors are about to be opened to the public,” Rig told him. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mason stood, hugged each of the men, and promised them they would all get together again soon, and he meant it. He couldn’t wait to spend more time with them. Maybe Bobby and Rig would let him host a get-together at their home.