Bad Behavior (Bad in Baltimore) by K.A. Mitchell Page B

young. And hell, he thought Gavin had been born jaded. Where was all the conversation that had been bouncing around the table all afternoon?
    “Marco.” There was the firm voice Beach had suspected Quinn could bust out when he wanted to. Thank God someone was keeping track of this kid. One trip to a place like Grand Central and he’d be as cynical as the rest of them.
    Marco clung a little tighter. “I’m so horny. And I’m surrounded by all this.” He nodded at either end of the table.
    “Gavin’s alone too. What about him?” Beach murmured.
    “His boyfriend is at work. He will get it later.”
    Beach glanced at Gavin, who was suppressing laughter with tight lips. Okay, this sure beat a stuffy Montgomery dress-up party. Beach was starting to think it had one over on anything his friends down on Riviera Beach could dream up. He tried to find another way to let the kid down gently.
    “Can you keep a secret?”
    Marco nodded.
    Beach extracted a promise, then cupped his hands to Marco’s ear to whisper, “You’re very sexy, but when I’m with a guy, I only like to get it, if you know what I mean.” It was half-true. And if he managed to overcome Officer Fonoti’s reservations, Beach expected it would be true more often than not.
    He felt Marco nod and lifted his hands away. Marco shielded his lips as he whispered back, “How will I learn to tell?”
    Beach kept up the secrecy. “Watch. See how they stand. If they want to fuck you, they take up more room. And listen to how they talk.” He pulled away. “Then you’ll feel it. Here.” He tapped Marco’s stomach.
    “Not here?” Marco grabbed Beach’s hand and shoved it lower.
    Beach yanked his hand free and dumped Marco off his lap, but at least the kid was grinning.
    Gavin was smooth, Beach had to give him that. He didn’t know how his friend had managed it, but Beach was alone in the kitchen with Eli, helping him with the few remaining dishes, and didn’t even know he’d been set up until Eli said, “So. Gavin said you wanted to talk to me.”
    Beach dried off a pair of grill tongs while he tried to figure out how to swing this subject with a guy he’d just met.
    “About figuring out you’re kinky.”
    The tongs clattered to the floor. And on the other hand, Gavin could be as smooth as a sledgehammer.
    “Bastard,” Beach muttered as he handed the tongs back to Eli.
    Eli huffed a laugh. “He said you were a little shy about it. But if you want it, you’re going to have to figure out how to ask for it. Especially as a bottom.”
    That sledgehammer kept right on swinging.
    “Hey, it’s not like I’m judging you.” Eli handed over the tongs again. “I’ve been kinky—and queer—as long as I can remember.” He rinsed off a wooden spoon and smacked it against his palm. “I’m mostly a sensation bottom.” He whapped the spoon a few more times, sending water droplets flying up, misting over Beach’s flushed face.
    “What does that mean?” Though he guessed he knew part of it from the spoon action.
    “I love to get spanked. Hard. Fucked hard. Pain like that turns me on.”
    “I—I don’t think that’s for me.” If he wasn’t worried about insulting Eli, Beach would have come down more firmly on the no-to-pain side. He’d been through surgery and a long recovery on his smashed leg. Pain was not a friend. He gave a side eye to the spoon as Eli handed it to him.
    “Don’t freak. We don’t use that one.”
    If Beach had been alone, he might have tested it out. All the same, he was still pretty sure about this. His parents hadn’t been spankers, but when they exited Beach’s life and his uncle became his guardian, a brief period of adolescent smart-mouthing had made Beach all too familiar with the phrase, “Go cut me a switch, boy, and drop ’em.”
    It had been a very brief period of smart-mouthing.
    Still, two days ago Beach didn’t know it was worth putting up with the pain of having a dick fucking him after he’d come,