6. Fitch
SIX
FITCH
Seeing Dom being all boss mode was hot as fuck.
He was in charge, in complete control, and his cold and conceited demeanour might make anyone else think he was an arsehole.
But damn if it didn’t do something to me.
Made my insides curl, warm and wanting.
Maybe it was because I knew the other side of him. The side that lost control, that I made him lose control of. And he was the opposite of cold and conceited.
He was warm and gentle, and it wasn’t that he was conceited at all. He had confidence in his abilities, and he was downright capable.
In all things, it would seem.
He made phone calls and appointments; he bargained and stood his ground.
It gave me confidence in knowing Benji was doing the right thing.
As scary as it was, it was pretty obvious that Nolan would protect Benji at all costs, and I had to admit, it made me a little jealous.
I was happy for him, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted to be that secure.
That safe.
It was a good while later before Dom finished on the phone, and after relaying everything to Benji and Nolan, said he needed to get back to the office.
I wanted him to stay with me, as unreasonable as it was. I understood his job was demanding and important, and this was for Benji.
But Nolan was staying with Benji.
He was prioritising Benji over his job, and maybe it was a fucked up romantic dream, but I wanted that, and it stung when Dom said he had to go.
The truth was, Benji needed to be alone with Nolan right now, which meant that me and Ky were no longer needed here either.
And it was selfish of me, but yeah, it sucked to not be needed.
“I’ll drive you boys back,” Dom said. “It’s on the way.”
I wasn’t saying no to an extra five minutes in the car with Dom. Ky could sit in the back and mind his own business. Freaky fucker would probably be happy to watch anyway...
Dom opened the passenger door for me, which I was beginning to think was a daddy-Dom thing he liked to do for me.
“He spoils you,” Ky said from the backseat.
Dom slid in behind the steering wheel, and I couldn’t help myself. “Ky said he’s happy to watch if you want to rail me in the car,” I said.
Dom looked at me and sighed. “Are you being a brat on purpose today?”
“Yes. Will you punish me accordingly?”
Ky laughed in the back.
Dom didn’t seem too impressed as he started the car and pulled out onto the street. “I have a lot to do today. My boss is going to want a piece of my arse when I get back to the office.”
I gasped, hand to my heart. “They cannot. I forbid this. If anyone gets a piece?—”
“Fitch.”
I shut up. That was his not-joking tone.
I didn’t need to add to his stress.
“Will Benji be okay?” I asked quietly.
Dom’s gaze cut to mine for a second before he looked back to the road. “He will be. It won’t be easy. He’ll need you, both of you,” he said, looking in the rear-vision mirror at Ky. He slid his hand onto my thigh, the warmth seeping into me. “Thank you for coming when I called. I know you came for Benji, but I appreciated it nonetheless.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you for calling me.”
He turned onto Oxford Street and we didn’t even have the luck of a red light on our side. He pulled up in a no-stopping zone. Ky hustled to get out as quick as he could, and I undid my seatbelt. “Text me,” I said. “Are we still on for Friday?”
“Fitch,” he said, reaching over and taking my arm. “Wait.”
I stopped, one foot out the door. Literally. “What is it?”
“We’re going to need to talk,” he said. “About what happened today. About Benji’s case and what that means for us.”
That all-too-familiar stab of uncertainty stung. “About us?”
He smiled, wary and tired. “We’ll be okay,” he murmured, sliding his hand over mine and giving it a squeeze. It was strong and warm and encased my hand completely. “I promise. But we can’t not talk about it. I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
Then his brows furrowed, his face troubled.
“What is it?”
He shook it away, his stoic expression in its place. “Nothing. I’ll call you. Keep Friday night free.”
“Okay.” I nodded and waited for him to let go of my hand, which he did, reluctantly. “Go to work, save the world, kick some arse.”
He afforded me the smallest smile before he gave me his stern daddy eyes. “You be good.”
I grinned at him. “Oh, I’m the best and you know it.”
He grumbled at me, then he nodded to where Ky was standing by the wall. “Go on. Ky’s waiting.”
I did not want to say goodbye . . .
I met his eyes, all joking gone. “Thank you,” I said softly. “For helping Benji.”
He gave a nod just as a bus came up behind us and honked its horn. I got out of the car and closed the door, and Dom drove off. I glared at the bus driver for good measure, and Ky laughed as he took my arm and we headed home.
“So,” he began. “Your man’s hot.”
“I know,” I agreed. “But you keep your little kitten mittens to yourself. You’ve already got two daddies. Isn’t that enough?”
He smiled. “Oh, it’s just enough.”
“Okay, Goldilocks. One isn’t hot enough, you need two,” I joked. “Are you ever gonna let us meet them? Or see them at least.”
“No. It’s their rule, not mine. You know that.”
True. It wasn’t like this was my first time asking...
“Some names, perhaps?”
“Nope.”
“What do you call them? You know, when they’re railing you?”
He laughed. “I’m not telling.”
I sighed. “Dom only wanted me to call him daddy when he was balls deep in me, but then I called him daddy one time when we weren’t fucking, and I’m telling you, that man liked it. As in liked it , liked it. It switched the daddy light on if you know what I mean.”
Ky laughed. “Sometimes they like to learn from us.”
I remembered what Dom had said about that. Learning from me, reading my cues, and the two of us learning together.
From which I could only deduce, he was thinking our arrangement could have longevity.
“You went quiet,” Ky said as we climbed the stairs to our unit.
“Just thinking,” I said as I unlocked the front door.
“About Dom, no doubt.”
I followed him in, kicked off my shoes, and pocketed my key. Of course I was thinking about Dom. About how hot he was, how in charge he was today, how he did the right thing by helping Benji, about how good his hand felt wrapped around mine.
How he reassured me that we’d be okay.
I sighed again. “Yeah. And I’m trying not to think about how the fuck I’m supposed to wait until Friday to see him again.”
Time crawled, and it felt as if I was watching every minute tick by in slow motion.
I knew Dom was busy and no doubt up to his eyeballs in work, so I didn’t want to disturb him or become a nuisance. I didn’t want him to have to set more boundaries and tell me to stop.
But I couldn’t help myself. On Thursday around midday, I was going stir crazy, so I sent him a text.
Did time slow down for everyone, or just me?
Friday is sooo far away
I didn’t expect a reply straightaway, though I was still disappointed when none was forthcoming.
So I texted Benji instead and made Ky go down to Oxford with me. Just to get out of our shitty apartment, to stop staring at the stained walls and dirty curtains.
We bought some lunch from Mr Stephanopoulos’s store and sat across the street by the shady trees and just watched people instead.
“How do you do it?” I asked Ky.
“Do what?”
“Wait until your daddies call you?”
He smirked. “It’s been twice a week for a while now. They’re in Melbourne today. Some work thing. I don’t even know. They’ll be back on Saturday and want me all day Sunday.”
I groaned. “Nice. So will you work tonight and Friday?”
He sighed and made a face. “Maybe. I dunno. Maybe just some light stuff. Hand and mouth, that kind of thing. Depends on who, I guess.”
I nodded and took another bite of my sandwich. “Yeah.”
Ky studied me for a long second. “Why?”
“No reason.”
He laughed at me. Actually fucking laughed. “You keep thinking about your man and it’s got you feeling shit you don’t wanna feel.”
This felt so stupid to say out loud, but he was right. And if anyone understood it would be him. “I don’t know. I just want to be with him, and only him. Which is fucking stupid. It’s been a few weeks, and only a few times, at that. But god, Ky. When I’m with him...” I shook my head. “I dunno. It’s stupid. But it’s the first time anyone showed me any kind of affection, and fucking hell, if it doesn’t feel good.”
Ky wasn’t laughing now. In fact, he looked sad. And Ky very rarely let his emotions show. He was the king of stoic. Hell, he barely even laughed some days.
“It’s not real,” he said quietly. “The daddy/boy thing. It’s a fantasy they like to delve into for a few hours, then go back to their reality where you don’t exist.”
I stared at him.
And for a fleeting moment, I was mad. Really fucking mad that he would say that, that he believed that.
But then it hit me . . .
I was only so mad because he was right, and I knew it. Deep down, I knew it was true because only the truth could hurt like that.
Dom wanted me to play a part, a role he created just for me. A few hours once a week, where he could cater to his need to be a ‘daddy’ figure while he paid me to be his boy.
That was the brutal truth.
A truth I didn’t want to hear.
Ky swallowed hard and watched the traffic zoom by for a moment. “Let yourself enjoy it,” he said, voice detached. “Revel in the attention, the adoration. Let him shower you with affection and enjoy the sex. But don’t get attached, Fitch. It’s not real.”
Well, fuck.
Of course he was right.
“Yeah,” I said weakly. “It’s not real. I know.”
The way Dom had held my hand, the soft way he told me we’d be okay.
That wasn’t real.
My phone buzzed with a message.
Time is slow for me too, yet I don’t seem to have enough hours in the day. One more day, Fitch. Are you being a good boy?
I smiled at my phone.
And that was the crux of it all, because that feeling—the rush, the buzz, the happiness—that was fucking real.
I typed out a quick reply.
That depends
What kind of punishment will you give me if I say no?
Will you fuck me for hours and hours?
Because if that’s my punishment, then I’ve been a very bad boy
I laughed as I hit send the last time and looked up to see Ky watching me. “It’s too late, isn’t it?”
“It’s too late for a lot of things, Ky,” I said with a grin. “But fuck it. You know what? We have very few things in our lives that bring us actual joy, so why not let myself enjoy this while I can?”
He thought about that for a second, and in the end, he shrugged. “Go for it. But the scar it’ll leave behind won’t be pretty.”
Goddammit.
I hated that he was so fucked up. I hated that we all were, but Ky especially. Whatever the hell he’d been through had been rough. Not like Benji. That was different. Benji’s past was messed up, yes. Incredibly so.
But Ky’s past felt different. Not that we knew, not that he’d ever divulged the details. But he got a faraway look in his eyes that kinda scared me. He had a darkness to him that felt uneasy.
He never spoke about shit, and I tried once to get him to open up. He withdrew from me and Benji completely and could barely get out of bed for two days, so I never dared push him for details again.
The same way Ky never asked about Benji’s past, or mine. Our reasons for finding ourselves as rent boys were our own.
All I knew about Ky’s life before now was to not ask about it.
My phone buzzed again with a message from Dom.
7pm Friday. My place. Be there. Do not be late.
I did a little happy dance and showed Ky the screen.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he did almost smile.
I shot Dom a quick reply.
Yes daddy
Then I let my head fall back with a groan. “Seven o’clock tomorrow is so far away.”
Turns out, waiting wasn’t so bad.
Benji had appointments and interviews with the legal team and with the police. He had to give statements and statutory declarations. He was drained emotionally and tired as hell.
But he told me that Dom had been with him and Nolan during most of it and that Dom was a sharpshooter when it came to legal stuff. He was supportive but strict, ferocious when he had to be, and always fair. He took no bullshit, listened intently, and he cared.
The perfect daddy.
It made my heart ache with affection for him.
And both Benji’s and Ky’s words warred in my head. One singing his praises, the other telling me it wasn’t real.
And the fact that Dom wanted to talk when we were alone, to discuss what Benji’s case meant for us, and more rules, most likely, I knew it would be a good thing.
I had things I needed to say to him too.
After the first round of fucking, that is...
So, duly douched and already lubed and a little loosened up, I was at his front door with five minutes to spare. The fact I’d been getting ready, was ready, for absolute ever and watched as time tormented me until it was time to leave, was beside the point.
It was a gorgeous evening already. The sun was getting low in an orange sky, birds were singing in his posh suburb, the sound of kids laughing somewhere down the street. And normally I’d take a second to appreciate it all, but none of that mattered. Not to me, not right now.
With a deep breath, I shoved a lollipop in my mouth for the full boy effect. I rang his doorbell, my belly full of butterflies, nerves frayed with anticipation and desire.
I heard his footsteps before the door swung inward.
And there he stood.
Dark suit pants, belt, pale blue business shirt, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His greying hair looked as if he’d ran his hand through it a dozen times. His lips curled into a smirk when he saw me.
Oh yes, the lollipop had been a great idea.
The way his gaze burned when he saw it.
So fucking sexy.
I made a show of slowly pulling the lollipop through my lips. “Oh, daddy,” I said, making my voice soft and sweet. I let my backpack fall off one shoulder. “I was having trouble with my homework, and I was really hoping you could help me.”
He grinned, pulled me inside, took the backpack off me, and dropped it to the ground as he closed the door. He pinned me to the wall by the door, his glorious body dwarfing me as he lifted me up. I took the lollipop out so he could kiss me.
He was hard in all the best places, desperate, and forced his tongue into my mouth. His groan was obscene.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and let him devour me.
I wouldn’t have minded if he finished me up against the wall. The way he held me, so strong and demanding. He pushed his hips against me; his hard cock made me hot all over.
Melting.
Into him, melting for him.
I would let him do anything to me. I wanted him to do anything to me. However he wanted me.
“Daddy, please,” I whined.
Then, with his hands under my arse, he carried me down the hall. I laughed as I hung on, kissing his neck. He got as far as the sofa where he threw me down. My legs were open, and he put one knee between them. He pressed the lollipop to my lips.
“Suck it, boy,” he demanded. “Work those lips for me.”
Oh fuck yes. The lollipop had been a great idea.
I kissed the lollipop first, slow and sensual, my eyes locked with his. Then I slid it into my mouth and pulled it back out slowly, working it through my lips.
Dom’s nostrils flared, he had fire in his eyes, and his hands... his big hands cradled my hips, his fingernails biting into the skin above my waistband.
He clearly wanted to rip my jeans down but was hesitating, and I wasn’t having that.
I took the lollipop out. “I’m ready for you, daddy. I was a good boy and got myself ready?—”
He dragged my jeans down over my hips, finding out I wasn’t wearing any underwear. He growled at me, so I put the lollipop back between my lips and batted my eyelashes.
“Fuck, boy,” he whispered as he undid his belt, fingers scrambling to undo his button and unzip. “You got me so turned on right now.”
I tongued the lollipop and slow-blinked. “Sorry, daddy.”
With my jeans pulled down to my thighs, he folded my legs up, exposing my lubed hole. He made a tortured sound, his huge cock already leaking precome. He swiped it over my hole. “You make daddy crazy,” he bit out. Then he put the lollipop back in my mouth and covered my mouth with his hand, the lollipop stick through his fingers, as he pushed his cock into me.
I cried out, the breach, the burn was too much. But he held his hand over my mouth, keeping the lollipop in place as he pushed all the way in. My cries were muffled, strained.
“Shh, boy,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “Be a good boy and take daddy’s cock. I know you can take it.”
I had to breathe through my nose, short sharp puffs of air helped with the pain, and I was almost okay until he moved and the angle changed.
I cried out again, my arms flailing. With his free hand, he caught my wrist and pinned it to the cushion above my head. “Breathe, boy. That’s it. Feel my cock inside you? That’s what you do to me. Make me so hard, make me want you so bad. Breathe it in.” His eyes were lasered in on mine, his dark and intense as he impaled me.
I could only ever do what he said when he looked at me like that. So I inhaled deeply through my nose, and knowing I was safe with him, I let the tension go.
He was owning me; my body was his. And as he began to move, slowly pulling back and pushing in, he found his rhythm and the pain was soon replaced with something else. Something so much better.
Wanting and need, yes. But... but also gratitude.
Gratitude for him wanting me. Gratitude for him needing me, for him showing me what a good boy I could be.
“Thank you, daddy,” I mumbled behind his hand, tearing up.
He moved his hand to cup my cheek instead, his cock buried to the hilt inside me. “Good boy. Daddy’s almost done. Just a little bit longer,” he crooned. “Such a good boy.”
I pulled the lollipop out, licking my lips and swallowing. I nodded earnestly. “Yes, daddy. Thank you.”
“Want your reward, boy?” he hissed, voice tight. “Daddy needs to come already.”
I nodded. “Please. Please, yes.”
He grunted and pushed forward, my jeans pressing me down, my knees up around my ears. He was so impossibly deep inside me it stole my breath. I was so full of him, folded in half, it was hard to breathe. I gasped and gasped as he pushed in, and he gripped the back of the couch. And with a loud groan and a final surge, he came.
I could feel the swell of his cock, the pulse and spurt of his come as he filled me with his seed.
It was more than a reward.
It was validation. It was perfection.
It was what I craved and needed. A balm to my aching soul.
Dom’s whole body heaved with aftershocks, his tremors rippling through me in the very best of ways. He was panting, groaning, his head hanging low as he caught his breath.
I put my hand to his cheek, and when he looked up, I slipped the lollipop back in my mouth with a smile. He groaned and it made me laugh. Then his smile became a chuckle.
“You knew what you were doing,” he said, voice warm. “You seduced me.”
I laughed at that and it made him twitch. He grimaced as he pulled out of me, his heavy cock slipping free. I felt empty, even though he’d left his seed in me.
I wanted him in me all the time. I pouted at him. “Aww, daddy. Can I have some more later?” I asked. “Please?”
He growled at me, though his smirk won out in the end. He tucked himself away, pulled my legs down, and fixed my jeans back up.
“Are you a greedy boy?”
I nodded and played with the lollipop some more. “I am. I want it all the time. These last few days were the worst. I wanted you so bad.”
He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, still between my legs. He gave me a sad smile. “I wanted you too,” he said quietly. “It’s been a helluva week. I ordered takeout because I thought we could talk, but god, the moment I saw you...” He inhaled deeply, studying my face. “You were exactly what I needed tonight.”
I sat up then, seeing just how tired he looked, and put my hand to his cheek. “Oh, daddy,” I whispered. “Let me take care of you.”
His eyes met mine, uncertain. “But that’s not?—”
“It’s exactly what a boy should do,” I said. “Look after his daddy. You’re going to need your strength and stamina in the next twelve hours, so let me help you.”
His eyes met mine, a soft smile tugging at his lips, and he nodded.
So I undid his shirt, carefully popping every button and letting my fingers trail over his exposed chest, tangling in his chest hair.
I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, kissing the skin there too. “Let’s get you into the shower,” I murmured. I wanted to wash away his stress and scrub this bad week away.
I helped him to his feet and led him up to his bathroom, and I took complete care of him.
I undressed him, and he let me.
I washed him, running my soapy hands over every inch of him, going to my knees before him, washing his feet, his legs, his gorgeous cock, his heavenly body, his hair.
I adored every inch of him, lavishing him with the attention he needed, and the soft glances, the light touches were my rewards.
Then I dried him off. “Let’s get you into some comfy lounge clothes,” I said.
He nodded and, wrapping a towel around my waist, I led him to his wardrobe. He pulled on some soft sweatpants and a tee shirt that I just knew was expensive by how soft and luxurious it was.
“I bought something for you,” he said, almost sheepishly.
He’d bought something for me?
I stared at him. “You did? What is it?”
He smiled nervously. “I ordered it online when you agreed to meet me once a week. I figured if you were staying here one night a week, it made sense for you to have some personal effects.”
He took a black basket from a shelf in his wardrobe and handed it to me.
“You bought things for me?”
I still couldn’t believe it.
“If you don’t like any of it, we can get you what you’d prefer.”
I put the basket on his bed and the first thing was a simple black toiletries bag. It looked expensive as hell.
He made a face, clearly nervous. “It’s just a toothbrush, a comb, that kind of thing. It’ll save you bringing yours with you.”
“Dom,” I whispered. “It’s lovely.”
He smiled and my heart squeezed.
Then he eyed the basket, to what was in the bottom.
Clothes, by the looks of it.
The first thing I pulled out was a... well, I wasn’t sure.
“They’re pyjamas,” he whispered.
Well, well, well.
These pyjamas were deliciously obscene.
“Oh my,” I whispered.
The smallest pair of grey boy shorts I’d ever seen and a matching white singlet vest. They were soft and I couldn’t help but put them to my face to feel the lavishness.
“Do you like them?” Dom murmured.
“Oh, daddy, yes,” I breathed. “Help me into them.”
He made a sound that was almost a purr. He sat on the bed, pulled my towel away, and helped me step into the flimsy boy shorts. They were small, but so was I. They were tight, barely covering my arse cheeks at the back, barely holding my junk at the front. Then he pulled the singlet on over my head, pulling it down my torso. It was small too, tight around my chest, leaving a sliver of skin above the shorts.
Dom put his hands on my hips, my tummy, my chest, inspecting the outfit, inspecting me.
“Do you like it, daddy?” I whispered.
He slow-blinked, voice low. “Yes.”
Jesus, fuck. He really liked it.
There was something else in the bottom of the basket. I reached in and pulled out another pair of shorts. They were blue with white trim, looked like a sport uniform or varsity, and they were very small. And a pair of long white socks with blue trim.
“Mm,” I said. “I think my daddy has a thing for teeny-tiny shorts.”
He made a happy, rumbling sound. “Hm.”
The basket was now empty. “But there’s no shirt,” I said, holding the sport shorts. I gave him my biggest puppy dog eyes. “I might get cold.”
His gaze narrowed at me and he huffed. “There is a shirt,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t sure... I thought it was a good idea, but now...”
Well, now I was intrigued.
“Show me,” I said. I leaned in and looked up at him, blinking slowly. “Please, daddy. Pleeeease.”
He growled and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you being a brat?”
I shook my head and smiled at him. “Uh-uh.”
Still gripping my chin, he drew me up onto my tippytoes and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “You are trouble,” he murmured, then let me go and disappeared back into his walk-in robe. He came out a second later holding a folded shirt.
I could see it matched the shorts. White with blue trim, and he handed it to me. I dropped the shorts into the basket and held up the shirt so I could see what was written on it. It reminded me of one of those American football shirts with a name and number on the front and back. The big blue writing across the top said Daddy’s Boy and the number was 1 .
Daddy’s boy, number one.
I gasped and looked up at Dom. “I love it,” I whispered. But there was something I didn’t understand. “Why were you not sure?” It was perfect. It couldn’t have been more perfect. “Do you not like it?”
His eyes flinched. “I love it,” he admitted. “Especially with the shorts and the socks. I pictured you in it and had to get it.”
“But?”
“Is it too soon?” He winced. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to misunderstand or give you the wrong impression. I mean, it’s just a shirt...”
I took his hand, gently interlocking our fingers. “The wrong impression of what?” I met his gaze and shook my head. Ky’s words echoed through my mind—that this daddy/boy relationship was nothing more than a sexual fantasy, not reality. He was right, and it stung. But it was the truth. “What is there to misunderstand, Dom? That while I’m here, I can wear this because I am your boy, and you find it hot and you imagined fucking me while I wear it.”
He winced again but gave the smallest of nods.
“And it’s not a lie,” I said, aiming to lighten the mood. “Because I am your number one boy... well, I better be. And if I’m not, then you better teach me how to be number one.” He was looking down so I leaned in and peeked up at his eyes. “Okay, daddy? As many lessons as it takes.”
He eventually smiled. “Okay.”
“Shall I wear it now?” I asked. The pj’s were awesome but the sports outfit won easily.
But Dom shook his head. “No. Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”
So I folded the shirt neatly and popped it back in the basket. “Let’s make a deal,” I said. “When I get here, just have whichever outfit you want me to wear on the end of your bed, and I’ll wear it.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
“And if there’s nothing on the end of your bed, I’ll just assume you want me naked the entire time.”
He laughed as he put the basket back in his wardrobe. He came back out smiling and rewarded me with another soft kiss. “If you insist.”
“Oh, believe me, I do.”
But then he looked me up and down, taking in the tight-fitting, very small pyjamas, and he groaned. He turned me around by the shoulders and walked us out and toward the kitchen.
“I ordered Thai food,” he said. There were three containers on the kitchen counter and he cracked the lid on one, and stopped. “Do you have any allergies?”
I shook my head. “No. I eat everything.” Then I looked up at him. “Do you have any allergies?”
It seemed to catch him off-guard, that I would ask such a thing. He shook his head, almost smiling. “No.”
He dished up two bowls with a bit of everything, and surprising me by not going to the table, he walked to the sofa instead. He sat at one end and put his feet on the coffee table, and I sat in the middle with my feet all tucked up underneath me.
It was different to see him in such a relaxed mood.
“Something about your food funny?” he asked.
I shook my head, smiling. “Not at all. I was just thinking how nice it is to see you relaxed. You were stressed out before, all high-strung in your expensive suit. Now you’re in your comfy clothes, all chill.”
He made a face as he chewed and swallowed. “Is that a problem?”
“Oh, absolutely not. A happy daddy means a happy boy. Was it the awesome sex? I have to say, I’m going to need to buy more lollipops.”
He cut me a side-eye but his smile told me there was no heat in it. “Hmm. Maybe I should have a supply here for you.”
I chuckled as I ate. The food was amazing, the air between us comfortable and safe.
“I actually did have plans to talk to you tonight,” he said. “Until I saw you with that damn lollipop.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. Definitely gonna need more lollipops.” But then I sighed, knowing I couldn’t put it off any longer. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Benji,” he replied. My gaze shot to his and he waved his fork at me as he chewed and swallowed. “Not about Benji. Just about how his case might affect us, that’s all.”
Relief flushed through me, but only for a moment. “What do you mean? How will it affect us? I’m not involved?—”
He shook his head again. “No, no. I know that. But I do know you in a personal capacity, and you’re his best friend. There are laws to prohibit any such interference.”
“Interference?”
He nodded and put his feet on the floor, his near-empty bowl on the coffee table. “I removed myself from lead counsel,” he said.
“What?” I shook my head. “No, Dom. I didn’t know you were on his father’s case when I first met you, and you didn’t know who my friends were.”
“I know. And thankfully, our team knows that too. But,” he said with a smile, “I stood down before they could suggest it. It makes sense, legally speaking. I can’t give them any reason to use it against the case. The end goal hasn’t changed, and that’s to see Benji’s father put behind bars. We can’t jeopardise that.”
“But that’s not fair,” I tried.
“It’s more than fair,” he said, smiling now. “Plus, I only have another two dozen cases just like it to work on. It’s fine, Fitch.”
I understood, but I didn’t like it.
“Benji said you were awesome,” I admitted. “I asked him if you used your big daddy voice and if he found it hot.”
Dom chuckled. “I don’t want to know what he replied.”
“Probably not,” I allowed. “What else did you want to talk about?”
“Well, the whole Benji thing got me thinking.”
I frowned, not liking how it kept circling back to my friend. “About what?”
He slung his arm over the back of the couch, still relaxed, even smiling a little, and it did make me feel better. “It’s nothing bad,” he began. “You always expect the worst, don’t you?”
“Habit,” I admitted. “Sorry. It’s not a reflection of you?—”
“Hey,” he said, his tone deep but soft.
It made me look at him.
“I know it’s not a reflection of me,” he said gently. “But that’s another thing we need to discuss.”
I was confused. “Pardon?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s start at the beginning.”
I waited.
“What I meant about referencing Benji was that it brought to the surface the fact that there are important things we don’t know about each other.”
“Like if my father is a crime lord of the underbelly like Benji’s?”
Dom snorted. “Well, yes. I mean, I hope not.”
I shook my head. “No.”
I took another forkful and put my bowl next to his on the coffee table. I understood the point Dom was making. If we were going to do this, we needed some background information on each other. It was fair enough too.
“My father is just a homophobic arsehole who kicked me out when I was booted out of the closet,” I admitted. “Found myself instantly homeless, so I came to Oxford Street.”
Dom frowned, his hand covering mine. “Oh, Fitch, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I mean, we were never close. He’d been a piece of shit my entire life. It’s why I never had any intention of telling him.”
“But he found out.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“And your mother?”
“Not much better.” God, I hated talking about this.
Dom’s face was a mask of sadness. “I’m sorry for bringing this up.”
“It’s okay. You’re right. We should know some details about each other.” I sighed, trying to give him a smile. “What about you? Always dream of being a hotshot lawyer?”
“Yes, always.”
“Always been gay? How did that go for you?”
“I always knew. In senior year at high school, I tried to be bisexual,” he said with an apologetic grimace. “Thought it might make my life easier. But no, it’s only men for me.”
“Did you have a hard time being gay?” I asked gently.
He gave a slow shake of his head. “No. Not really. A few friends who couldn’t deal with it, but my parents were okay. Eventually. They were worried for me, more than anything else. My father died before I turned thirty, but I know he loved me. My mother lives up the coast now. We speak often.”
So basically the very opposite of my experience...
“So,” I hedged, needing to change the subject. “Sex with a woman. What’s that like?”
He laughed and booped his finger on the tip of my nose. “I do not kiss and tell.”
I gave him a silly pout, but I remembered something he’d said before. “But you prefer sex with twinks, right?”
His eyes locked with mine. “Very much, yes.”
“Never had sex with a bigger guy? No gym-bros in your closet I should know about?” I asked.
He chuckled. “I mean, sure. I’ve slept with other men. But from as far back as when I was in college, that was when I knew what I really liked.”
“Into all the freshmen, huh?”
He chuckled. “Something like that.”
That earned me a warm gaze and soft smile. Then he took my hand and studied my fingers for a second. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“You,” he whispered. “And other men . . .”
Oh boy.
He winced. “I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I know what you do for a living, where you work. I just...”
I tried to keep my voice neutral. “You just what?”
“I try not to think about it,” he said. “I try not to imagine what you’re doing or who you’re doing it with. I know I have no right. But I worry about you. If they treat you well, if you’re okay.” His eyes met mine, clear and honest. “And I don’t know if not knowing is worse than knowing. Because if you told me, then I’d know. And I’d be picturing it...” He frowned again and pulled his hand back. “Sorry. That’s unfair on you. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
There were two ways this could go. He could struggle with my being a rent boy and it would eat him alive, or he could learn to live with it.
That was it.
Those were his two options.
Now it was me who took his hand, lacing our fingers and keeping it on my thigh. “I can’t change who I am or what I do,” I said gently.
Dom nodded. “I know. I wouldn’t ask you to. I’m just... this is new to me and I’m just...”
“Jealous?” I tried to joke.
His eyes shot to mine. “Learning to deal with it,” he corrected.
He was actually jealous.
I couldn’t hide my smile very well.
“Well, if it’s any consolation,” I told him, “after my nights with you, I take the next night off. One, because you pay me enough to cover it, and two, to give my arse a break.”
This clearly did not placate him. “Do you always have to do anal?” Then he cringed at himself. “No, don’t answer that. I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
Well, he was right about that. It wasn’t his business. But he was trying to learn how to deal with it.
Because he was jealous, and he was trying to accept it.
I moved closer to him, looking up at him through my lashes. I knew it was a low blow, but it was his weakness, and I wanted to reassure him without souring the mood any further. “I don’t always. Most of the time I just use my mouth but usually my hand. I want to save myself for you, daddy.”
He made a low, rumbling sound, and with one arm around me, he pulled me flush against him. He ran his hand down my back to my arse, giving me a firm squeeze. “I like hearing that,” he said.
I smiled up at him, wriggling a little for good measure. “And I like hearing that you don’t like thinking about other men touching me. I like a jealous daddy.”
“Jealous? Really?”
I ran my hand over his chest, giving his nipple a tweak. He was so freaking jealous and now he was trying to deny it? I chuckled. “Jealous and possessive are my favourite of daddy’s traits,” I murmured. “It reminds me who I belong to.”
He gripped my face, a little too hard, not quite hard enough. His gaze was intense, burning hot. “Who do you belong to, boy?”
“You, daddy. Only you,” I said, my voice tight.
This pleased him, his smile proud and warm. He gave my arse another squeeze, rubbing his thick fingers close to my hole, teasing me. The tiny shorts made it so easy for him. “Such a good boy,” he whispered. “So fucking perfect.”
But then he stopped, as if he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. He blinked and tried to smile. “I’ll clean up dinner,” he said as he stood up, leaving me on the couch. He collected the bowls and cups from the coffee table and took them to the kitchen.
“I can help,” I said, hurrying to follow him. “Isn’t that a boy’s job? To clean up and help?”
Dom slid the crockery into his dishwasher. “Or is it a daddy’s job to clean up after his boy?” He looked up at me, smiling... until his eyes drew down my body. He grunted a filthy sound, and when I looked down, I could see why.
My dick was half hard and these teeny shorts were unforgiving. I put my hand over the tented fabric in an attempt at squeezing myself into submission.
It didn’t work.
I whined. “I’m sorry. It’s not my fault. You pulled me against you, and your hand kept squeezing my bottom, your thick fingers so close to my little boy hole. It felt good, daddy. You called me a good boy and making you happy makes me feel so good.” I gave my dick a slow squeeze through the material. “Makes my penis hard. I can’t help it.”
He watched me, enraptured, desire in his darkened eyes. He closed the dishwasher, put his big hands on my waist, and lifted me to sit on the kitchen counter.
I did a little happy wiggle. “Oh, am I allowed up here?”
His hands gripped my thighs and he spread my legs. “Only when I say so,” he said, voice a low rumble. Then he slid his hand up to my shorts, palming my erection. “I’m going to make you feel better than good,” he said. “Can daddy see your penis?”
I nodded, playing along. This was fun and really fucking hot.
He pulled my shorts down and I had to lift my arse off the counter so he could free my dick.
“Mm,” he hummed, then licked his lips. His dark eyes met mine. “Can I make you feel good, boy?”
I nodded. “Yes, daddy.”
He leaned down and sucked my dick straight into his mouth. Hot, wet suction drew my arse off the counter. My hands found his hair. “Oh, daddy,” I said.
Jesus fucking Christ.
It’d been so long since I’d had my dick sucked. I was normally on the giving end of these transactions, rarely the receiving end.
It was so good.
Pure pleasure, for no other reason than he wanted to do this. He wanted to make me feel good.
He took all of me, his nose meeting my pubis, and with his hands now gripping my arse, my legs spread wide, and his master level of suction and the tightness of his throat, I was already close.
“Daddy,” I cried. “Gonna come for you, daddy.”
He gripped my arse harder, sucked me deeper, and I couldn’t hold it off any longer. Wave after wave of pleasure hit me, shooting through my body, and he swallowed it all. I was leaning back, my legs now over Dom’s shoulders and his face was still in my crotch, my cock deep in his throat and he held my hips as tremor after tremor rolled through me.
I’d never come so hard in my life. So intensely, so thoroughly.
He obliterated me so hard, I think I actually blacked out. When I came to my senses, I was being cradled to Dom’s chest as he carried me to bed.
He lay down, still cradling me, my head against his chest and the crook of his neck, his strong arms holding me safe.
“Daddy,” I whispered.
“Go to sleep, little one,” he murmured.
Little one.
That sweet name for me made me smile, but I closed my eyes and did exactly as daddy told me.