[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Romance, BDSM, Alternative, Contemporary, MM, HEA]
A trained chef and quiltmaker, the last thing Quillan Kelly expected when he asked the biker at the next booth to watch his belongings was to meet his new Daddy Dom. He was at the festival hoping to make enough money from his wares to move off the family ranch.
While the cute quiltmaker caught his eye at the festival, restauranteur Laz Santi wasn’t looking for a new lover. In the two years since his last lover had shredded his heart, he had buried himself deep into his work. When he went looking for the little man, he never expected to find him being beaten by his father.
Will Laz be able to release his past to love again? Can Quillan let go of his Big side to allow himself to be dependent on Laz? Will Quillan fit in with the rest of the Santi Littles?
“So, you’re Quillan?” he asked as if to confirm Quillan’s identity.
Quillan watched as the man pulled the lid off the box of critters, then picked up one animal and then the next, giving each a good looking over and squeeze before returning it to the bin.
Though he wanted to reply, “Duh,” Quillan said instead, “That’s me. Are you in the market for a stuffie, Mr.…?”
The man smiled as he put the animals back and stepped away from the bin. “No mister, just Laz. Laz Santi. If you need any other help, just ask one of the girls. If they can’t help, they’ll call one of us.”
Quillan nodded as he stepped out of the tent and turned to study the space he had to work with. Two eight-foot-long tables didn’t give him as much display space as he needed to set everything out, but he would make it work.
If only the Laz would go away for ten minutes so he could concentrate on putting his booth together without drooling.
Once he had things set up, Quillan would welcome the man back to chat, at least until customers began walking the area. He was tempted to find out Laz’s phone number, and whether or not he was single.
There was also the question of whether or not Laz Santi was gay.
While Quillan’s gaydar and semi-hard cock were telling him the big, burly, manly-man biker dude who was lingering and playing with stuffed animals was not as straight as his brother bikers, he didn’t want to make a mistake. He also didn’t want to get the shit beaten out of him for making a pass at the man.
* * * *
Though he didn’t like being ignored by the little man who had caught his fancy, Lazarus Santi retreated to help the women set up. It was obvious Quillan was stressing about his booth, and Laz didn’t want to cause him additional problems. He would have to keep an eye on the man and make sure that he calmed down once he was set up and settled for the day. No one that pretty should be stressed.
The fact that Quillan was moving like an old man in the throes of an arthritic attack was something else Laz would keep an eye on. The man looked healthy, but was moving and occasionally sucking his breath and wincing like he was in pain.
Quillan’s golden-blond hair was super short on the sides, but longer with curls on the top and made Laz’s fingers itch to see how soft those curls were. His eyes were the most unique that Laz had ever seen. They were a deep purple, like the stain grape juice makes on a white tablecloth.
If Laz had to guess, he’d say Quillan wore his light gray T-shirt with a T-Rex on the front and bright red sneakers to indulge his Little side. Confirming his suspicion that Quillan was a Little boy would take a longer conversation than the one they’d just had. He would also need to make sure the man wasn’t already in a relationship.
Turning to where his cousin’s women had set up their double booth, he sighed. When the women had told them what they planned at family dinner the night before, Laz couldn’t see how they were going to set up a book-signing, an art sale of Willow’s photographs, and the items Annie, Cara, and their craft ladies made under the two tents. But the women had somehow made everything work.
Along the far wall were the wire screens with Willow’s framed work hanging from them. Tables along the back wall held the craft items and supplies, while the table holding Lyssa’s books sat in the center front of the double tent. The back corners each held a chair for the other women, and Lyssa had one pushed under her table.
Their men, Nico, Theo, and Zeno, had already finished weighting the legs, setting up tables, and securing the display racks. They now stood shoulder to shoulder along the front of the tent, watching their women empty the boxes and setting out all the stuff that they had brought.
As he continued watching, first one woman, and then another would go to their man to share a word or two, a snuggle, and a brief kiss before returning to open another box and bring out more stuff. Laz sighed, jealous of the love that swirled around him.
It had been two years since Daniel had shredded his heart. He knew it was well past time to move on, but no one he’d met in the past months created a spark of interest. Glancing over his shoulder at the man in the next booth, the one who made quilts almost as beautiful as he was, Laz wondered if maybe Quillan could be the one to drive Daniel out of his heart once and for all.
He certainly hoped so.
“When do I get to call you Daddy?” He knew the question came out of left field, but with their relationship moving forward at what felt like light-speed, he needed to know.
“Whenever you want to, cub, but not while we’re at the bar where some of the customers might get the wrong idea or take offense. Our relationship is our own and none of their business. If you don’t ever want to call me Daddy, that will be okay, but I hope one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to do so,” Laz answered seriously as he helped him don the shiny helmet.
“Okay…Daddy,” Quillan said, then giggled when Laz grinned at him like he had just won the lottery. Or a brand-new, top-of-the-line Harley.
Laz had taken him on a ride the night before, so Quillan knew how to climb on and then slide forward once Laz was seated. He had loved riding on the back of Laz’s bike, though he wasn’t sure if it was the wind whipping around them, or the fact that he was wrapped around Laz’s body as close as he could get. Either way, he was a happy, happy Little boy riding on the back of his Daddy’s motorcycle.
It was just a short ride to Saints, but it was enough to cause Quillan problems. The rumble of the engine and holding tight to Laz caused Quillan’s cock to continue stiffening until it was as hard as a steel rod.
By the time Laz parked in his space near the back door of the restaurant, Quillan was so close to an orgasm he was afraid to move for fear of coming right there and then.
“Cub? You need to climb off,” Laz said after a half minute when he didn’t move.
“I can’t,” Quillan whispered, tightening his arms and legs when Laz started to move.
“Quillan? What’s wrong?” Laz peeled his arms from around his middle. After setting the kickstand so the bike wouldn’t fall over, he slid off then turned to look at him.
Quillan dropped his hands to rest on his thighs, but otherwise did not move. Closing his eyes, he focused on breathing and trying to shove back the orgasm that was seconds from embarrassing him. He didn’t move even after Laz unbuckled and removed his helmet.
A large hand slid around his neck and turned his head to the side before tilting it up. Quillan smiled when Laz kissed him gently. “Talk to me, boy,” the big man said against his lips.
“I can’t move. If I do anything but sit here and breathe for a while, I’ll come in my pants and embarrass us both,” Quillan whispered, squeezing his eyes tight.
When Laz didn’t respond, he opened one eye and looked at the big man. Laz didn’t look angry at his revelation. In fact, the man was grinning like he’d just won the Super Bowl singlehanded.
“Is that so?” Laz asked, scanning the area around them before turning his attention back to him.
Quillan nodded slowly. His orgasm was retreating, but so slowly that he wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the building to the bathroom where he’d take about thirty seconds to jerk himself to release.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to do something about this problem you have so you can come inside without jizz-filled pants,” Laz said, reaching for his waistband.
Quillan’s eyes widened as the big man opened his belt and then slipped the buttons of his jeans through their holes and pulled the front of his jeans apart. “What are you doing?”
He froze when Laz reached through the opening in the front of his boxers and fished his cock and balls out.
“I’m solving my boy’s problem,” Laz said as his hand wrapped around Quillan’s cock, causing his orgasm to push forth once more. His voice was so matter of fact it was like he was announcing that the sun was setting or that grass was green. “That’s what Daddies do. We solve problems for our Littles.”
Quillan could only grunt in response. When Laz began to stroke up and down his shaft putting a slight twist when he reached the head, Quillan’s grunt became a long, drawn-out moan. He wasn’t sure whether he was encouraging the man or wanting him to stop.
Two more strokes and stopping was no longer an option. “Daddy,” Quillan moaned as he grabbed the bike seat just behind his hips to keep from floating away. On Laz’s next slide up and down his length, he began thrusting his hips, fucking Laz’s hand.
“Come for Daddy, cub.” Laz’s voice was deep as he issued the order.
“Daaaddyyyyyyyy,” Quillan cried through a jaw clamped tight.