Riveted by SJD Peterson Read Free Book Online Page A

decision he’d made.
    During his teenage years—while experimenting, learning blowjob etiquette and Tapping an Ass 101—he realized he had a propensity for kink. Tackett didn’t want a guy just sucking his dick, he liked to force them to take it. Vanilla didn’t do much for him, even when it was new. Without questioning the reasons why, he sought out like-minded kinksters. And the rest, as they say, was history.
    Not usually one for self-introspection, rarely questioning his decisions or choices, Tackett was a little stunned to find himself sitting at the bar several decades later, questioning everything, every choice he’d ever made. Hell, he was staring at an empty glass, for fuck’s sake, debating if he should say screw it and order a double shot of bourbon or stick with water.
    Tackett knew the exact moment it all changed.
    He hadn’t been in the Guards of Folsom since the night of Ty Callahan’s collaring, six weeks earlier. He was impressed with the changes Blake and Ty had made to the place. Bobby, the previous owner, hadn’t done much to it over the years. It was always a great place to play, even if it was a little outdated.
    The twenty-year-old booths had been replaced with soft leather couches, the scarred and worn tables gone and new black shiny ones brought in. Instead of the medieval feel it had previously, the club now had a warm, comfortable ambiance even with the dark color scheme and low lighting. The power play being exchanged between Doms and subs, leather and sex the prevalent scent in the air—that was still the same, but now in a sleek new modern setting.
    Perhaps it was the modern part that bothered him, reminding him that, like the previous décor, he was outdated. However, he knew there was more to it than that. Ty’s collaring ceremony had been beautiful, and as Tackett watched, he’d known he was witnessing something he’d never experienced before, although he’d seen hundreds of collarings. This one, for some reason, had caused him to look at his life, and he wasn’t very happy with where it had taken him.
    Forty-five years old, and what did he have to show for those years?
    Sure, he owned a successful financial company, had more money than he could ever spend, all the toys afforded by wealth, good friends, and a steady diet of sweet little sub boys to delight in. What was there not to be happy about? And he had been happy, or at least he’d thought he was, until he’d seen the love between Blake and Ty and realized what was missing from his life. How empty it truly was. Had envy kept him away these past six weeks? Perhaps, but it was more than simple jealousy.
    Life had become a predictable series of events. Wake, eat, work, fuck, sleep, repeat. At his age, how long did he have before the fawning subs would find a new Dom to worship? When he no longer had the strength or the energy to satisfy, what then? Maybe not next week, or even next year, but it would feel like the blink of an eye and he’d wake up one day an old man, alone.
    “Another drink, Sir? Maybe something a little manlier this time?”
    Tackett looked up and met Micah’s laughing blue eyes. Oh, this one was a pistol all right. Micah couldn’t be much more than twenty-one, twenty-five, tops, and while he had sub written all over him, he also had an air of confidence that rivaled most Doms Tackett knew. How the hell this smartass kid ever got a job in a BDSM club was a mystery.
    “Manly? And what would a kid like you know about manly? Have you even started shaving yet?”
    “Only my balls, Sir.” He chuckled and picked up the empty glass off the bar. “Another tonic with a lime twist? Or could I interest you in a marshmallow cake-tini? You’ll love it. It’s pink and has these yummy little sprinkles on the rim.” Micah’s smile turned playful. “I could even add a cute little umbrella.”
    Ten years ago—hell, six weeks ago—Tackett would have answered the challenge in those baby-blue eyes. He’d have