Chapter 6
Samuel flees to the bathroom. He needs an escape. He’s tempted to call Wendy and rant about her brother-in-law. What does he mean he might be bisexual? How dare he!
Is his boss trying to torment him?
Bryan Demarco is the Daddy of his dreams. It has only been the man’s obvious heterosexuality and complete and utter unobtainability that made employment bearable. He’s older, gorgeous, mentally and fiscally stable, and he’s serious.
Strict almost.
He has high expectations of everyone, including himself, but he can also be understanding. He takes care of his employees. There isn’t an employee among them who doesn’t like the man.
And now he might be bisexual. He might come roaring out of the closet with no qualms whatsoever (who does that?
!?), and he’s thrown Samuel into disarray after a few minutes conversation.
He’s called him Sammy and made him clean up his mess.
He’s given him a napkin like he is a child who doesn’t know any better— which is so much fucking hotter than it should be.
Even his tone, slightly belittling, was sexy.
And he’s practically a virgin. He’s never been with a man, and the only sex he’s had was terrible? Samuel could knock his socks off! He’d be the best sex the man ever had!
He could have his boss addicted to him in a matter of hours. Maybe minutes!
The things he would like to do to Mr. Demarco. Daddy Demarco. Ugh. He might explode just from the thought.
What the hell is Samuel supposed to do now?
His heart is pounding, and he turns on the water, shoves his hands under the tap for no real reason except that it’s cooling and something to do. He’s got to get himself together.
Maybe his boss is joking. Or trying to connect but going about it in the wrong way? Trying to empathize? Samuel knows lots of women who claim they’ll never date a man again, who say they are bi-curious and really want to be with a woman, and then don’t.
They wind up with some middle-aged schlep because the call of the dick is too strong, which is something Samuel understands. Because he’s also going to say yes to some middle-aged dick this weekend.
He’s not going to get a sexy daddy who works out a lot, has money, and a full head of hair. There is no Daddy Demarco equivalent in his future. Ugh, this is all so annoying and stressful. He doesn’t even want to jerk off.
“That man is not gay,” he says to himself in the mirror. He splashes water on his face, dries his hands and face, and heads back to the table. “Can I get another drink?” he asks the waitress on his way back.
“Your boyfriend said you had to work tomorrow. Didn’t think it was a good idea.”
“He is not my— he cut me off?” Samuel demands, voice rising with indignation.
She shrugs. “Four shots in twenty minutes is enough to give anyone a headache in the morning. Pie helps. We have cherry, apple, and lemon cream?”
“Uh, I don’t know if we’re staying that long. Thanks,” he says, and then wishes he hadn’t. She’s denying him booze! He needs it to get through this. And why is she deferring to Bryan?
He knows the answer. Because everyone defers to him. He’s imposing and decisive. A natural leader. He’s the Daddy Dom of their office.
The real deal.
He’s also just about always right.
Which means Samuel probably doesn’t need more alcohol. It would just lower his inhibitions, and then he’d do something foolish, and then he really would get fired.
He goes back to the table and sits down.
Their gazes lock as he slides into the seat.
Mr. Demarco really is stunningly handsome.
He spends a lot of time outdoors and has that healthy, tanned glow that some men get.
There are some lines at the corner of his safe, brown eyes, and where he smiles, and there’s something so sexy about that, as if he’s wise and has life experience.
His hair is dark brown and there’s the faintest hint of gray at his temple.
He is just so calm and steady. What would he even look like if he lost control? If he was moved to passion? His stomach flips, like there’s a large fish in there. Then all the blood in his body goes right back down to between his legs.
This is awful.
“I guess, if you were really thinking about being with men, you could go on Grindr,” Samuel says. Which he didn’t realize he was going to say until it happened. “You’d want to experiment.”
“That’s probably true,” he says, but it’s dismissive. “But. My midlife sexuality crisis isn’t actually why we’re here and can wait. Is there really no way you can find a normal boyfriend and just incorporate spanking and consensual non-consent into the relationship?”
“How do you know what that is?” This is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life. Nothing else will ever be as embarrassing as this moment.
“You wrote it in your email. It seemed very important to you.”
“Yes. It is.” He looks down, unable to deny it.
“I know it isn’t any of my business, but can you tell me why?”
“Why do you think?” he asks, because there is only so much vulnerability one man can be expected to endure.
His boss takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “I suppose being desired so intensely might make one feel… wanted or even loved?”
“Safe,” Samuel says.
His boss nods. “Alright,” he sounds solemn. As if he really does want to understand and isn’t trying to humiliate Samuel.
“Plus, it’s hot as hell.”
Mr. Demarco takes a long swallow of beer. As a response, it doesn’t give Samuel a lot to go on.
“I don’t want it in a normal way. I don’t want to be equals and then occasionally play. I need it to be real and meaningful. I want that to be the relationship. It isn’t meaningful if one can turn it on and off easily. Having a Daddy and… that is all I’ve thought about since I was 16.”
Mr. Demarco leans forward, catching his gaze. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to wait until you found the right man, then? Since it’s important?”
“I’m sick of waiting. I don’t care how terrible or ugly a man he is, it’s just time. I’ve been living like a monk for years, and I just want something.” A lump of emotion lodges in his throat, and he has to swallow a few times before he can take a sip of water.
Mr. Demarco holds out another napkin towards him. His expression is soft in a way Samuel has never seen. “Here.”
“What?” He asks, but he’s already wiping away the tears.
“I didn’t think today could get any more embarrassing, but now I’m crying, too.
Great. Might as well go for broke, right?
” He laughs, but there’s a tinge of hysteria clinging to the end.
“I’m feeling lonely and in need of companionship, and you’re wondering if you might be bisexual, plus it’s almost Christmas.
Maybe it tis the season or whatever, but don’t you think we should—”
He cuts himself off. Oh no. Did he really just mostly proposition his boss? And what the blazes does Christmas have to do with anything?!?
Mr. Demarco’s brows raise up in surprise, but he’s just as calm as he always is. “I don’t think sleeping with one’s boss is what that expression means,” he says dryly. “That’s much worse than an inappropriate email. I think we chalk it up to the booze and move on.”
He means it kindly. Which sort of makes Samuel mad. Does nothing ruffle this man? Is he so unimportant to his boss that he can’t even get the man’s disappointment?
“The alcohol hasn’t even had time to hit me yet. I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Samuel promises and crosses his heart.
“I beg to differ,” he says, eyeing Samuel like he’s just grown another head. Mr. Demarco reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet.
“You know I even think of you as Mr. Demarco? Or even Sir? Isn’t that funny?
After all this time, you should be Bryan.
But you’re not. Because you’re….” Meant to be my Daddy, he thinks, and is suddenly miserable.
“This was a lot easier when you weren’t contemplating being gay.
I’m ready to go home now.” Samuel drains the rest of his drink.
Okay, maybe he’s feeling the booze. “You know what? I’m glad you’re saying no.
It’s a bad idea. And, I have my date for tomorrow night all planned, so I can get off then. ”
Mr. Demarco’s expression— Bryan’s expression— is as impenetrable as ever. Carefully blank. But he needs to shave again, and Samuel has a weakness for beard burn, which is yet another disappointment in an endlessly tragic day.
“Are you saying I’d be a better choice than the middle-aged loser you’re meeting tomorrow night?”
“Without a doubt. Besides, I know you and know you’re clean. I’m clean, by the way. I was tested after my last partner. He hated condoms.”
Bryan opens his mouth and closes it again, a flush crawls up his neck.
“Are you imagining it? It’s messy and unpleasant to clean up, but men love it, and that’s part of being a good boy and making Daddy happy. And that’s… I like that. You probably know that already. I like doing unpleasant things to make my Daddy happy. It’s one of my many kinks.”
The man’s lips are pressed into a hard line and he’s holding himself very still.
“We need to go. Big day tomorrow. At work, that’s what I mean.” His voice is low. He stands up and puts money down on the table. Their waitress hurries over. “Hang on, hon. I’ll get change.”
“Keep it,” he says, back straight and jaw hard as he buttons his jacket. Samuel stares up at him. Mr. Demarco won’t even look at him. He turns and heads towards the exit. Samuel doesn’t hurry. This isn’t going well. This is bad. He takes a few deep breaths before getting to his feet.
Mr. Demarco is in the parking lot, one hand tapping impatiently on the metal roof as he stares into the distance.
His attention snaps to Samuel, and he looks down Samuel’s body and back up again.
It’s electric. Hot. It might be anger, but it doesn’t feel like anger.
It feels like he’s checking Samuel out in a way he hasn’t ever done before.