Mine

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

JT

I look down at the baby-blue jockstrap, matching V-neck T-shirt, and jeans that Sir instructed me to wear. They lie across my bed, waiting for me to put them on to get ready and go meet him. He’d asked me about my clothes, wanting to know some of what I had to wear. He’d wanted to be the one to choose, but he also didn’t want me to have to buy something special, which I appreciate, as new clothes aren’t in the budget right now.

I just finished cleaning myself out and showering, making sure I’m ready for him. He’d said we would fuck the first time we met, and there’s no denying that’s exactly what I want. Using my dildo for him the other day had been hot as hell, but it wasn’t enough.

I want the real thing.

I want Sir.

“Hey,” Reggie says from my bedroom doorway just as I drop my towel. I left the door open and often do. Neither of us has any issues regarding nudity. We’re naked around each other all the time.

I grab the jock from the bed and pull it on as he comes over and plops down on the stiff mattress.

“Those make your bulge look nice.”

“Right?” I ask, adjusting myself. “I’m so glad Sir asked what I have in blue. It’s my favorite color.”

He chuckles. “You’re so weird.”

I give him the finger. “I turned my location on for you like he said. We’re meeting at Rainbow Brew.”

“Well, at least your old man knows about the local queer-owned coffeehouse.”

“He’s not old,” I say, defending Sir, though I have no idea how old he is.

“I know. I’m giving you shit. You know I’m good with older men,” he says while I pull the jeans on. “I like that he wants you safe. That’s a plus.”

“Yeah, he was very specific about the rules. It’s really sweet. It makes me feel…” Protected? Cared for? Like I’m precious to him? All of the above.

“Uh-oh. Your eyes just looked all floaty. I’ve never seen you do that before. You haven’t even met this guy, and you already look like you’re more than halfway in love with him. That’s not good, Jay.”

I sigh, push him over, then lie beside him, my head on his stomach. He cards his fingers through my hair. “I’m not in love with him, and I don’t want to be in love with him. I just… It’s hard when you can’t get what you need from the guys you date. For you, even if you don’t find a relationship, or the guy you start seeing ends up being a dick, they can still fulfill you temporarily. Hell, even if it’s a night. I’ve never felt completely fulfilled or sated. It’s like I’ve been”—I think of my screen name—“craving something more , my whole life, knowing what I need but unable to find it. Sir will be able to give that to me. I feel it, Reg.”

He gives my scalp a little scratch. “I hope you’re right, and I hope you don’t get hurt. If you do, I’m going to find this Sir guy and, like…probably pay someone to kick his ass because I’m too pretty to fight.”

A laugh jumps out of my mouth. Reggie and I haven’t been friends for a long time, but he’s the best one I have, and I’m so incredibly thankful for him. “I love you.” I sit up and kiss his cheek.

“Love you too. Text me often so I know you’re not with a psycho kidnapper Dom who wants to wear your skin.”

Another laugh slips out. Reggie really is the best. “Thank you for being supportive.”

“That’s what friends are for. And hell, you never know, maybe one day a man will boss me around and I’ll realize it’s hot or something.”

“So hot.”

I stand and finish getting ready. Reggie stays in my room with me, chatting while I do. When it’s time to go, he hugs me goodbye, and I take off. Rainbow Brew is within walking distance of our apartment, so I don’t have far to go. My stomach is in knots the whole time, excitement and fear fighting for dominance.

I still don’t know what Sir looks like, and vice versa. He’ll be looking for a man in a baby-blue V-neck and jeans. Hopefully that’ll only be me.

My hands are sweaty, so I rub them on my pants before opening the door. No one looks up or pays me any attention. I’m a couple of minutes early, but I have a feeling Sir will be too. My gaze shoots around the coffeehouse, snagging on the hallway leading to the bathroom. Will he really fuck me in there?

I take a few steps inside, looking from table to table. There are a lot of men here alone, which doesn’t help, and then—“Oh fuck,” I say softly when I notice Marsh at a table, looking at his phone. Because of course my dad’s best friend would be here the day I might get fucked in the bathroom.

My feet itch to turn around and sneak out, but if I do and Sir is already inside, I might miss him. And what will he think of me if I’m not confident enough in myself to meet up with him because someone I know is inside? I’m already nervous about the age difference between us, and it’s not as if Marsh will know what’s happening just by looking at us.

So I decide to head over, say hello, and tell him I’m meeting a date. I’m a grown-ass man. There’s no reason I can’t meet a man here.

The soles of my shoes make a weird noise on the floor, which is annoying. The knots in my stomach grow as I head to Marsh’s table and jokingly ask, “Are you stalking me?” I cross my arms over my chest.

He looks up with a grin, having recognized my voice. “I believe I was here first, was I not?”

His gaze travels to my shirt and holds there. The smile slides off his face, making the hairs on my arms stand on end, spider legs tickling across my nape.

Marsh’s stare snaps up to mine, pupils blown wide, the truth slamming into me like a punch to the stomach.

He wouldn’t…not Marsh. There’s absolutely no possibility that my dad’s best friend, the man I’ve known my whole life, is a Dominant. My dad would hate that, and though Dad and Marsh are different in so many ways, I figure they have to be similar in some too.

“Is there a reason you’re wearing that shirt?” he asks, the question a tight fist around my lungs.

“I…” Nothing else will come out. I…what? Have been talking to him for a month? Dreamed about his hands on me? Sucked my fingers pretending it was his cock…showed him my hole…stuffed a dildo in my ass because a man who is like family to me told me to?

“Breathe, JT.” He pushes to his feet, hand on my back, rubbing circles on it. I hear it then, the dominance in his voice, the part of him that’s a caretaker. And it’s always been there. I noticed it at the barbecue. It’s not unfamiliar to me, but I never thought…never imagined.

Marsh is a Dom.

I’ve been calling Marsh Sir .

And he’s right. I’m not breathing.

“I’m going to be sick.” I push away from him and run to the bathroom. His footsteps follow. I don’t take the time to lock the door before rushing to the toilet and dropping to my knees, but nothing will come up.

The door closes behind me.

The lock clicks.

“Maybe I’ll fuck you in the bathroom of a restaurant or coffeehouse where we meet.”

My dick twitches in my jeans, which makes me feel like a sicko. This man calls my dad his brother. This situation is a fucking mess, and here I am, getting hard because we’re in the restroom together where he said he might fuck me?

I gag again, but for the second time, nothing comes up.

“Jesus.” Marsh grabs paper towels, wets them, then kneels beside me, rubbing the sweat from my forehead. “Take a deep breath. Concentrate on me. You’re going to hyperventilate.”

Lean into him, cuddle close, let him take care of you.

The part of me that’s always been there—but never directed at Marsh—is trying to work its way to the surface. I want him to fix this, to tell me it will be okay, to make me forget how we know each other and do all the things he promised to do to me.

But God, what if he tells my dad?

And why do I care?

It’s just something else to make Dad look at me differently, for him to wish I was someone else.

“Hey, look at me, JT. Look into my eyes and breathe with me…” I do, couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. My gaze holds Marsh’s hazel one like his voice has the ability to put me in a trance, put me under or make me do anything he wants. “In…” I do as he says. “Out…” I exhale.

We do that together over and over again until my breathing slows down and returns to normal.

Marsh stands, goes back to the sink, and wets new towels.

“Don’t sit on the floor, please. It’s dirty.”

“Oh God. I showed you my hole” is how I reply, doing the opposite of what he said by plopping down to the linoleum and leaning against the wall.

He sighs, comes over, and begins wiping my forehead again.

You’re good at this…

I have to fight the words not to come out, and then I’m pissed at myself because of who he is.

“You lied,” he accuses.

“It’s only three years. I could tell you were unsure about my age.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s only three years. This is about honesty. The kind of relationship you’re looking for doesn’t work without it.”

I roll my eyes…then see his fingers twitch like his urge to discipline me is almost too hard to control. Blood rushes to my groin again.

Christ, I need to do something about my reaction to him. The truth is, if he wasn’t my dad’s best friend, Marsh would be exactly who I want. There’s never been any denying that he’s an attractive man, but add in that he’s a Dom? That he’s older, sexy, caring… No. Stop that.

“Does Dad know about you?”

“Yes. It’s something we don’t talk about.”

Nausea twists my stomach. “Because he disapproves. He thinks it’s wrong. God, knowing him, he thinks it’s abuse.” Even though my dad is the best kind of person, one who would give you the shirt off his back, he tends to judge things he doesn’t understand. I can see him thinking any kind of impact play is wrong. He would never get why someone could crave that, why I would.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“Christ.” I run a hand through my hair. “He does think it’s abuse, doesn’t he?”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Marsh reiterates. “You’re an adult and allowed to want the things you want. To need the things you need. Like I told you before, no one else has to understand. What you do is no one else’s business.”

But Dad doesn’t understand. There’s no question about that, and I don’t care…but I do. Marsh isn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, anything I didn’t assume. My dad and I already have a confusing relationship, so I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me so much. “Are you going to tell him about me?”

“No. God no. I would never do that to you. You and I didn’t know.” Marsh paces the bathroom, something I’ve never seen him do. “Now we know, so we’ll stop.”

An unexpected pang makes my gut clench.

Holy shit. I don’t want to stop. I still want the things Sir promised me, and I don’t care if Sir is Marsh. I mean, it would be easier if he wasn’t, but then…I trust him. I know him. Maybe a part of me sensed that connection talking to him online and that’s why I felt bonded to him so quickly. My subconscious knew something I didn’t. Marsh would take care of me in ways other Doms wouldn’t because of who we are to each other. “What if I don’t want to stop?”

He whips his head in my direction, jaw tight. “You nearly vomited when you saw it was me.”

“Not because I’m not attracted to you. Fuck, you’re hot, Marsh. You’ve always been hot. I freaked out because I was shocked and scared. But now…what if—”

“No. I’m not doing this with you.”

His answer hits my insecurities, like something rough scratching all my tender spots. “Why? You said I’m an adult, that it doesn’t matter if other people understand or approve. You wanted me. You liked what we did together…you liked being my Sir.”

“That’s enough!” he says, voice raised and nearly vibrating the walls. He’s not the type to get angry, at least not that I’ve seen. This is the maddest I’ve ever heard him. Still, it doesn’t stop me from pushing.

“It’s just sex.”

He doesn’t answer but walks over and pulls me to my feet. I let him. His pupils are still too wide, jaw clenched. His dark stubble looks so scratchy, and I can’t help wondering how it would feel against my skin. He smells like some kind of dark amber that invades my senses.

Marsh pulls me to the sink, turns on the water, and pushes my hands beneath it. Okay, clearly, he’s not as turned on as I am. He soaps them next, and my knees go weak. My thoughts settle as it clicks into place what’s happening. “You’re taking care of me right now. You want to. I want you to.” My gaze travels down his body. “You’re hard.”

And yep, I continue to plump up too. This could work. This is perfect. It would be no-strings-attached scenes. He wants a long-term sub and nothing serious, and I want more experience in the lifestyle. It makes sense. It’s wild how I could spend my whole life not seeing Marsh as a sexual being—and I know he never did with me either—yet a month of talking anonymously has flipped a switch I’m not sure I can turn off.

I whimper, a “Please” whispering past my lips.

His eyes close, heat radiating off his body. “He’s all I have, JT. He’s my family. Your father is like a brother to me…and he would never forgive me.”

This time it’s my eyes drifting closed. Marsh sounds raw and honest, the emotions he feels for my dad clear in the way his voice breaks.

I’ve never heard Marsh’s voice break before.

It would kill me if he lost someone who means so much to him. How can I ask Marsh to risk being alone in the world?

But then, why is it a risk at all? We’re both adults.

“Yes, Sir,” I reply softly, the honorific slipping out. I’ve gone twenty-two years knowing him as Marsh, but now Sir falls from my lips automatically.

“Jesus…” he grits out. “I have to go. Are you okay? Is there something you need from me?”

Those words nearly make me melt into the floor. That’s what I want. That’s what this is supposed to be about, isn’t it? Marsh is making sure I have what I need, regardless of what the situation is, regardless of the fact that we didn’t have a scene together today.

“What I want, you can’t give me. Go. I’ll be fine.”

He stares at me for a moment with an expression I can’t read. I just know I’ve never seen it before—not from him, and certainly not directed at me.

“Be careful. Don’t show your face online. Don’t trust all men who tell you they’re a Dom.”

I nod, and then without another word, Marsh slips from the bathroom, leaving me alone.