Colin (Daddy for Christmas 2)

1. Colin

Chapter one

Colin

“What? Three weeks? Move out? I can’t believe this.” I had been living with my uncle for four years since I graduated from high school. Now, I had three weeks to find somewhere else to go. My heart felt like all the life and love had drained right out of it. I was numb.

“Colin, you have to understand. Bobby is sick. Really sick and getting worse, not better. He has to move back, and this house isn’t big enough—”

“I do understand. But I don’t know how I’m going to find someplace to live. Not that fast, anyway.”

“You have a good job. You can find a roommate or something.” A good job? No. I worked at Koffee Kraze and not even as a barista. I was a stocker. I didn’t even get full-time hours. If I had to move, I needed to find a better job and fat chance of that when I didn’t have a car. In this little suburb of Tampa, it was hard to get employment, and a vehicle was a requirement to search farther away since the bus system wasn’t all that reliable.

It was hopeless. I flopped down on the sofa, letting my hair fall over my face, and kicked off my shoes.

“Stop being overly dramatic. Surely, you have money saved up so you can put a deposit down on something. This isn’t that big of a deal. You had to know you couldn’t stay here forever.”

Oh, I knew, all right, but I had zero dollars saved up. How could I when most of my paycheck went toward paying rent to Uncle Edgar? Being late or short was never an option. My uncle needed the money, especially with Bobby being sick, and I respected the man too much for that nonsense. But I also never said how little it left me with.

Hopeless.

I was a loser. A giant-ass baby loser. Had been my whole life. Barely got out of high school, flunked out of college the first semester, working the only job I could get, which was shit. And I had gained a good thirty pounds over the past few years. It was not cute. My life was spiraling down the toilet. Fast. Well, faster .

Uncle Edgar was still talking while he sorted through the Christmas decorations, packing some things away, and putting stuff to the side to add to the tree, but I had mentally checked out. I couldn’t see a way out of this crappy situation.

“Colin? Colin, are you listening to me?”

“Sorry, Uncle Edgar.” I pushed my hair out of my face. The long strands always bugged me like that unless I pulled them back into a pony or bun. “I was thinking.”

“Well, come over here and help me sort out these lights.” They were the same decorations and artificial tree we had for the past three or four years. Everything was still in good shape, and the tree was a pretty green spruce. I had helped put it up right after Thanksgiving. It seemed like ages ago when it had been less than a week. I wrapped the extra lights around an empty paper towel holder while continuing to mope as Uncle Edgar sorted through more ornaments.

“How much more do you think we should add?” I asked, fiddling with a strand of garland.

“I want everything looking amazing before Bobby gets here. He… This could be his last Christmas.”

In three weeks. Right in time for Christmas. How the hell was I supposed to find a new job and a place to live before then? Who was hiring right before Christmas? I headed to my room, dragging my socked feet and hanging my head.

“Turtle! Yo, bring some medium cups up here,” Andy called out from the front of the shop. He always called me by my last name, Turtle. It didn’t amuse me, but I’d given up trying to change Andy. He was a brash, feisty, and assertive man, and also one of the best friends I had ever had. Though, admittedly, we weren’t all that close.

I grabbed a stack of paper cups. “Coming.” I made my way from the storage room and handed them over.

“Thanks.” Andy grabbed the cups and eyed me curiously. “What’s bugging you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie. I can tell.” He pointed at my face. “See? Right there. In your crinkly eyebrows.” He moved that accusing finger around. “That says you’re thinking way too hard, and for you, that can’t be good.”

Of course, I gave in and told Andy about my issues with having to move and my complete lack of resources. I hadn’t been able to find anything I could possibly afford. “I need help.” I held my hands up, exasperated even more now that I’d shared the problem.

“Hmm...” Andy looked me over. Then someone entered the shop, and he had to take their order and fill it. Leaving him to do his work, I headed back to straighten the storage area.

A few minutes later, Andy poked his head around the corner. “You need help, all right. You need a sugar daddy, and I’m going to help you get one.” Andy had finally lost his marbles.

“What?” I couldn’t even comprehend that suggestion. “You’re nuts.”

“Nope. I’m serious. People do it all the time. It’ll help you, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” The bell on the front door chimed again. “I have to go.” He pointed at me again, this time with a serious look. “I’m taking you out Saturday. You better be ready.”

“Out? Out where?”

“You need fetish clothes. I’ll come by after my shift to get you situated.”

Saturday? I didn’t have any plans. I didn’t quite believe Andy as he ducked away to help the customer. He went to a local club that catered to BDSM, but I never imagined he’d want to take me. And find me a daddy? Who did that? I certainly did not have a daddy complex. But…

The thought of finding someone to take care of me continued to roll around, ruminating in the back of my head through the rest of the shift and during my long walk home. Could I even get a sugar daddy?

I was dumpy, not too bright. What did I actually have to offer?

I stopped under a streetlight and tried to look around at my ass. Was that my only asset?

And how long had it been since I’d gotten laid? And was I even good in bed?

Probably not.

At least not good enough for some hot daddy to take care of me.

No, if I did this for real, I needed to sort things out. Drop a few pounds, borrow some cooler, sexier clothes, and, oh yeah...learn how to please a man. That was something I had never worried about before. I’d only ever had a couple of hookups, and neither party cared about the other. It was only getting off, then never having to see the other person again. This would have to be more, and my experience was severely limited.

I had a lot to think about before Saturday.

Uncomfortable wearing leather boxer shorts and a pink, sleeveless T-shirt while we drove to the club was an understatement. Plus, Andy had me wear my hair down, saying it was my best feature. Great. I put it in a low bun for work, mostly to keep it out of my face, but it was required. I thought about cutting it, but Andy shrieked at that suggestion and yelled, “Don’t you dare!”

Andy wore similar shorts to mine and a leather halter but had thrown an oversized dress shirt over his shoulders, leaving it open in the front so most of his bare chest and stomach still showed. His shorts didn’t ride up his ass the way mine did. Half my cheeks were on display, but Andy had assured me it was best for displaying the goods . I wasn’t so sure. It was more like my ass was too big for Andy’s tiny clothes, and it made me feel like a cow. But when we entered the club and looked around, I was happy I listened to my friend. In fact, this outfit was more modest than most. Just woah!

Afterglow was a private BDSM club, but they were open to the public that night. A lot of posters at the coat check promoted an upcoming New Year’s Eve party, so that might have been why.

As we made our way through to the tables, I caught glimpses of all types of people. Some were obviously from the BDSM team, dressed mostly in scraps of leather or less, and others were dressed more casually. People were sporting chains everywhere I looked. I even spotted a few glamorous women. It wasn’t anything like what I’d expected. Though, I wasn’t sure what I had expected. Maybe a bunch of huge leather daddies stalking around the club, snapping whips at everyone? Well, there were a few leather daddies but no whips. Thankfully. I was not into pain play.

A bar stretched across most of one wall near the tables where we sat. On the far side, a stage was set up with one of those big crosses that they strapped people to. I knew about that. I’d done some research, after all. It was flanked by smaller tables, a cabinet, and something like a gymnast’s horse but smaller. I assumed people were strapped to that thing as well, but I wasn’t entirely sure how it worked. Well, my research hadn’t actually been that thorough. I didn’t get far since I wasn’t interested in that sort of thing.

Andy bumped my shoulder. “See anything you like?” Music played in the background, but not loud enough to be distracting, simply a backdrop for mingling and chatting. The lighting was brighter than I’d expected but still had a reddish tint to it. I didn’t think Andy was talking about the decor, though.

“Sure. Yeah. Everywhere. Not sure where to look first.”

“Right. Hot bods on patrol. Rawr.” He winked and flashed a charming smile. “Just make sure you’re up front with people. Don’t mislead anyone.”

“Oh, right. So, I should say I’m Colin, and I’m looking for someone to take care of me, pay my rent, and feed me. In exchange, you can get some of this.” I smacked my ass.

“Well, maybe don’t be so blunt. All I’m saying is don’t, you know, don’t misrepresent yourself and what you’re after. That can go bad fast. There were rumors of someone doing that a year or so ago. He misled his Dom completely and ended up in jail.”

“Jail? What?” Was anything about getting a sugar daddy illegal? I didn’t think so.

“Yeah, right. Well, I guess it was more complicated than that. Just be yourself.”

“I get it, Andy. Subtle but no lies.”

“Exactly. Oh, there’s Desirée. She’ll be able to help us.” Andy stood and waved his arm in the air. “Desirée!”

Across the room, a woman turned to face us. She smiled and made her way over. She wore a halter top that showed off her cleavage and flat stomach and a long, full skirt that accentuated her hips. It flowed over the floor as she walked. Her makeup was a bit ostentatious for me, but she seemed friendly enough. She leaned in and hugged Andy. “Oh, who’s your friend?” she asked in a huffy voice that was very low for a woman. Then it clicked. Duh. This was a man in drag. In fact, all the women here were in drag. I felt incredibly naive.

“This is my friend Colin Turtle. He’s looking for a sugar daddy.” Andy winked and nudged my shoulder again.

“Well…” She winked and slid into the booth beside me. Her perfume was soft, lingering, like honeysuckle and oleander. “You have come to the right place, boy. Plenty here to choose from. Anyone strike your fancy?”

My gaze wandered around the open room. It landed on a handsome, slightly older man standing near the bar. The man had an authoritarian air to him. His height and wide shoulders made him seem protective, comforting. I wouldn’t mind being wrapped in those arms. “How about him?”

“What?” Desirée screeched dramatically. “That’s Rourke Lazarus. Darling, he is way out of your league. Like way-way out of your league, baby boy.”

“Yeah, Colin,” Andy added. “To land that as your daddy, you’ll seriously have to hit the gym.” Exactly what I needed to hear. Not.

I rubbed a hand down my chest. Surely, I wasn’t that bad? Yes, I was a little plump, but it was a cute plump. Right? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was entirely in over my head.

“Oh, I know! Be right back.” She took off across the room and skated across the area in front of the stage, which looked like a dance floor, though it was currently empty. A glimpse of her platform shoes could be seen beneath the ruffling of her skirt as she moved.

“How does she do that?”

Andy smirked knowingly. “Practice. And lots of it.”

I would have to agree. Andy wore combat boots with his outfit, but I wore sneakers. Walking in heals was a big no. Even Andy’s boots were too high for me. I preferred Chucks, and Andy had said they’d be fine for my outfit since I wanted to look like a boy, not a sub. And apparently, there was a distinction there, though I wasn’t sure what.

Even though this was a BDSM club, that’s not what I was after. Andy should know I wasn’t into that, and he knew what was involved at the club. He’d subbed for several men in this club. He even said they’d had him naked on stage at some point. I didn’t want to imagine that, especially when the cross he’d probably been strapped to was currently taking center stage up there. I shook my head to knock loose those thoughts. Ick!

Desirée returned with a tall, slim, older man with a dark mustache and thick dark hair. He wore a halter like Andy’s, only his was thicker and spanned across a broad, hairy chest. “This is Vick Petrov. He’s more your speed, hotshot.” She winked at him.

Vick leered. “So nice to meet you.” He had a slight accent that Colin suspected was Russian or from Ukraine or something else from Eastern Europe.

We shook hands when Andy introduced me, and Vick had a firm shake without squishing my fingers. But his attention made me feel like a prized bull at a meat market. In over my head? Wasn’t that my earlier thought? Yep. Andy and Desirée basically pimping me out only made it worse.

“Maybe we can dance?” Vick asked.

“Dance? No one said there would be dancing.” I didn’t know how to dance. I’d never been that guy. I was not a cute twink who could confidently grind against someone. I’d never even gone to dances during high school. My throat started to tighten, and my palms felt sweaty.

“When the music starts, yeah?” Vick nodded toward the dance floor in front of the stage.

Andy leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear. “Hey. Don’t worry. Just hold on and let him lead you.”

“Oh…” I wasn’t sure about that. In fact, I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. What had I gotten into? But surely, dancing with Vick didn’t mean anything. I could back out. I could say no. “Okay. Maybe a dance then. Sure.” I tried to smile, but it felt weak and fake. I wasn’t interested in Vick, and dancing felt like leading him on.

I glanced over at Mr. Lazarus and caught his gaze. The man tipped his head toward me, sending the warm fuzzies running around in my belly. I smiled shyly and looked down at the table, completely intimidated. But Vick thought that shy smile was for him and proceeded to brag about it to Desirée. My head snapped up. I wanted to deny it, but Andy elbowed me and rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything. I would roll with it and see what happened.

Vick bought me a drink, but I was too nervous to drink it. I hated making chit-chat, and Vick nodded entirely too much, like a bobble head. I didn’t like the man, but he was nice and apparently rich or well-off. Desirée said he did something with financial investments and gave a big phony wink. Giving him a chance didn’t mean I had to sleep with him, right? I followed when Vick grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor.

We faced each other, and Vick grabbed one of my arms, forcing it around his neck. Then he slid his hand under my hair at the nape. His other hand went straight to my ass. Oh, I did not like that one bit. Other dancers around us had similar poses, and many of them had their hands all over their partners. Some were grinding together to the beat of the music, which I totally expected but didn’t want to do. Could there be anything better than sweaty, half-naked bodies writhing together on the dance floor? Probably, but I couldn’t think of anything else. I let Vick pull me a little closer. I still wasn’t grinding on him. “I love your hair, pretty boy.”

I wasn’t entirely sure that what we were doing could be considered dancing, but everyone else was doing something similar. I could try. I moved against Vick’s body and closed my eyes. Rourke Lazarus’s face came to mind, though. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the man, but from what I saw, he was handsome, dressed well, and he had looked right back at me. But I shouldn’t be thinking of another man while dancing with Vick, should I?

“Excuse me.” I opened my eyes at the sound of someone else’s deep, rumbling voice. And stared right at the man I had been thinking about as if my thoughts alone had conjured him. “Can I cut in?”

Vick said, “No, mind your own business.”

At the same time, I said, “Yes.” My voice was breathy as I held out a hand to Mr. Lazarus. No way was I passing up this chance.

Vick stormed off the dance floor, but I hardly noticed as I was pulled into the arms of a stranger. He smelled earthy, like herbs, maybe basil and sage, with a sweet hint of lavender floating over it. Despite the delicate scent, it was still very masculine. I licked my lips, hoping for a taste as well.

“I’m Rourke,” he said, pulling me to him. Unlike Vick, he kept his hands in respectable places. One rested at the center of my back, the other on my shoulder. We were pressed together but not tightly. Rourke’s movements flowed with the rhythm rather than the gyrating obscenity displayed elsewhere. He had class. Style.

“I know. I’m Colin Turtle.”

“So nice to meet you.” He leaned down closer to my ear and rumbled. “I didn’t want that guy taking advantage of you.”

I shook my head. “I’m not letting anyone do that.”

“And yet he was practically groping you. Isn’t this better?” He swished his hips and rocked me to the side and back.

“I think so, yes.”

We danced another moment, Rourke leading me around the floor until the song changed. Rourke let go but grabbed my hand instead. “Don’t let him touch you like that. Okay?” Then he kissed my knuckles.

Wow. Such a gentleman. Romantic. He floored me, and I could only nod.

Rourke let go and walked away without a backward glance. I wanted to race after him. Throw myself at the man’s feet. He was protective and confident, and I had felt safe in his arms. Standing there alone in the middle of the floor made me feel vulnerable by contrast. I reluctantly returned to the table where Andy and Vick chatted. Probably about me.

I was stuck with Vick for the rest of the night. He touched me, though not inappropriately, merely my shoulder or hand or a bump of his hip into my side, but it felt wrong every time. Rourke’s words echoed in my head.

Desirée had been right. Rourke Lazarus was out of my league. I searched for the man throughout the night, but he was gone as if he’d walked off the dance floor and right out of the club. I would likely never see him again and only had the one dance to remember, but remember it, I would. Because that one dance had been a hundred times better than the whole night with Vick.

The only thing positive about the night at the club was that it got us, Andy and I, invited to a pool party the next day at Vick’s place. Only in Florida would a pool party be a thing in December. But the weather was still nice, and pools could be heated.

I should have spent Sunday looking for a new place, but I couldn’t bring myself to continue the futile search when such a rich event was at my fingertips. Not that I was materialistic. I certainly wasn’t. I only wanted someone to take care of me—take this burden from my shoulders. Also, Andy agreed that even if I turned Vick down, there would be other eligible targets there.

“Targets?” I pulled a faded T-shirt over my head.

“You’re not wearing that, are you?” Andy sneered. “And what else are we calling them? Potential sugar daddies is a mouthful.”

“How about, I don’t know, dates . And what’s wrong with this?” Along with the shirt, I put on a pair of orange swim trunks.

“You have to dress the part. I thought you figured that out. You’re not attracting anyone who wants that.” He gestured toward me, or rather my casual attire. “Come on. Let’s go to my place. I have some things you can wear.” Andy sighed, leaving me feeling like a charity case.

“Maybe if I look needy, they’ll feel sorry for me?”

“I don’t think so. The trick is to look sexy, desirable. And you really need to do some squats, Turtle.”

His words might have been a little mean, but they came from a good place. Andy squeezed the fat around my middle. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

We piled into Andy’s little economy car and went to his place, where he shared an apartment with two other guys. I envied him. He made decent money at Koffee Kraze, but he also attended the University of Tampa, working on his MBA. Andy had a future. What did I have? If I didn’t find a daddy soon, I wouldn’t have anything. I would be living on the streets. Although, I kind of doubted my uncle would really put me out like that. I would have to give up my room and maybe sleep on the couch until Uncle Edgar got tired of that. No, better to stay on track and let Andy dress me up and pimp me out. How bad could it be?

The answer was a pair of red briefs—if they could be called that. They barely covered my ass and rode low on my hips. Hell, a bandana was made from more material. Andy paired that with a light blue tank top that fit snugly across the chest. “I don’t know about this.”

“Right. Pink would probably be better.”

“What?”

“For playing boy. Come on, Turtle. If you don’t get into the role, you’re going to be dumpster diving in no time.” I appreciated Andy’s concern, to a point. Regardless, I donned the tight clothes and a pair of black flip-flops, though I stuck with the blue tank, and off we went to the party.

Davis Island was Tampa’s elite playground for the rich. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that much, but I hadn’t expected such a large house and right on the bay. We pulled into the driveway made from colored pavers and were immediately stopped by a team of valet attendants. They took over Andy’s car with a smile and showed us the path to the front door that wound around a small fountain surrounded by lush landscaping and up to a wide wall of windows. The front door was elaborate glass and decorative wood and probably cost ten times as much as I made in a year. Or more. The house was a typical Florida structure, squat cinderblock ranch style, all on one floor, but not typical with all that glass and how it sprawled out toward the neighbors on either side. Those properties were blocked by brick walls pretending to be fences, constructed in the same palette as the drive.

Even only seeing that part of the house still told me something more about Vick. He obviously had more money than I thought, but how much did that matter? I didn’t have to have the wealthiest daddy on the block, only one who could support me, and preferably one who I liked. And I didn’t much like Vick, but maybe I should take Andy’s advice and treat this event like a shopping trip. Daddies galore , Andy said.

Holding on to that thought, we made our way through the house. Uncle Edgar’s house could fit in the front room alone four times over. Spacious was an understatement. Most of the house had beadboard on the ceiling, interspersed with white beams that made it feel like a beach house. In fact, everything was white. Floors, walls, ceiling, and even the kitchen, where plaster ceilings gleamed.

The entire back wall of the house was also glass, and it overlooked the pool area where people were already congregating. When we slid one of the back window panels open, soft music and a low rumble of male voices wafted over us.

I grumbled a complaint under my breath. Most of the men were scantily clad, so Andy had been right about that, but the problem was that they all looked really good. Fit. I was going to walk out there looking like that old, fat man wandering a beach in a Speedo that everyone disdained and pointed at. “I don’t think I want to do this.”

“Stop it. We’re already here. Go.” Andy shoved me forward.

A waiter wearing skimpy black shorts, cuffs, a bowtie, and nothing else offered us a drink. My eyes trailed down the sexy chest and six-pack abs. He had vees jutting out from his hips and pointing to his groin. There were four guys dressed, or rather un-dressed, in the same manner, circulating around, offering drinks and snacks to guests.

Andy took two drinks from his tray and handed one to me.

“What is it?” I took a sip of the pink drink in a tall glass that had both a cherry and an orange slice for garnishes.

“That’s a Singapore Sling,” the waiter’s baritone answered.

“Thanks.” Thankfully, it wasn’t very strong.

Andy hummed his approval. “Sip it slowly and stick to that. I love the color with your eyes.”

“What?”

“Makes them seem a little more blue, less green.” My eyes were hazel and tended to change based on what I wore. I suspected their blueness was more from my shirt than the drink, but I shrugged rather than argue.

We walked around chatting with other people. Well, Andy chatted and introduced me, while I smiled a lot and sipped the drink. When it was over half gone, Andy got another one. “Slow down on that, will you?”

I gave another fake smile. “I’m not having fun here,” I said through his teeth.

“Shut up and smile.”

“I’m going to sit down.” I was so bored. No way was I getting in the water or one of the five hot tubs that stretched the length of the pool on the far side, separating it from the bay. Several men were getting in and jumping from tub to tub. A twink was sitting on someone’s lap and sipping from a glass the man held to his lips. It was incredible. And intimidating.

The host didn’t seem to be around, but I wasn’t exactly hoping to see Vick again anyway. No, I was hoping for someone else to catch my eye. The men here seemed nice, but they weren’t...

Him. Rourke Lazarus.

As if on cue, he walked in. His gaze bounced around the patio area but didn’t land on anyone in particular until he saw me.

I had dreamed about the man the night before. First wet dream I’d had in ages. That man got me all kinds of worked up. Perhaps his unattainable status was part of the lure.

Rourke strode across the pavers with purpose. His dark hair was wavey, brushed back from his forehead, and his shoulders looked as broad as I remembered. He was coming toward ME. I sat a little straighter and smiled invitingly instead of faking it this time. And my heart practically beat out of my chest.

But Rourke was intercepted. Two young twinks who didn’t weigh what I did put together jumped in his path. He smiled and laughed with them. They were obviously flirting and more his type.

Out of your league . Desirée’s words came back. She’d been right. I felt like a whale stuffed into Barbie’s clothing.

“Colin, so glad you could make it.” I turned my head at the accented words from Vick.

“Sure.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Let me give you a tour.” He spread his arms wide. “I’ve only had this house a few months, isn’t it scrumptious?”

“Yes, it’s nice.” I felt obligated to let Vick show me around. Besides, Rourke was tied up with his duo-twinks. He shot a strange look at me as we passed, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I had to ignore the man before my heart got involved. Because that man would break it. Maybe it was better to stick to someone I didn’t like. Less emotionally risky.

“This way. Let me show you.” He opened a door on the far side of the patio. “This is what passes for a pool house. I probably will build another on the far side later, before the summer comes.” He stepped into a bathroom with gray tiles and a seafoam green accent wall. A small closet with mirrored doors lined the wall opposite a giant shower. “Guests can change here or rinse off.” He shut the door behind us, and I heard the snick of a lock.

Vick nudged me farther into the room and away from the door. “This is rather nice.” I swallowed nervously.

“Yes, yes, but small for a pool house.”

“Maybe.” How the hell would I know something like that? I’d never been to a place like this, never seen an actual pool house, or even a bathroom this big for that matter.

“But I have it stocked with everything we need.” He opened the cabinets below the vanity. Fluffy towels were stacked on one side and a basket of condoms and one-time-use lube packs had been stashed beside it. Another basket tucked behind them held mouthwash, toothpaste, and brushes.

“Uh, looks like it.”

“I admit, Colin, I hoped to get you alone. So I can get to know more of you.” He slid his fingers over my elbow and up my arm, lingering at my shoulder.

“Uh...not much to tell, really. I work with Andy.”

“Ah, yes. Andy.” Vick’s gaze roamed over my body like an unwanted caress. “He’s a good friend to introduce us.”

“I guess...”

Vick’s hand became a bit bolder. “Let’s get you out of this.” He tugged at the bottom of my shirt.

“No. I don’t think so. I need to go find Andy.” I shoved away from him and headed to the door. I unlocked it and stepped out. “Maybe later,” I called over my shoulder. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but I didn’t want Vick undressing me, let alone touching me. I had to get out of there. There was no way that man would be on my short list of potential daddies.

So far, only one man had made that list.

I was so screwed.