Chapter 11 Ezrah
Chapter eleven
Ezrah
Waking up with Sebastian on top of me, his hard cock pressed against mine, nearly made me lose control.
I had to physically restrain myself and remind myself that he's my ex's younger brother. If he had been anyone else, I would have pulled him down and devoured his sinful lips.
Fuck. Don't think about his lips.
My gaze betrays me anyway, dropping to those lips as he sips his coffee.
I'm not sure I believe him when he says he's feeling better. Yesterday, he scared me. But I don't want to push too hard. For now, I hope he knows he can count on me. And I'll keep reminding myself that he's my ex's brother.
"So, you've started eating breakfast, huh?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Yes. It's all thanks to you."
"What?"
"You said breakfast is the most important meal, so I followed your order and started eating it."
I can't tell if he's joking. He says it so seriously, and then smiles. I've never noticed how bright he looks when he smiles like that.
My throat goes dry. I swallow hard and sip my coffee.
"That's good," I manage.
He looks perfectly comfortable, sipping away, but I'm on edge and I don't know why. The silence feels suffocating.
"What was your time in England like?" I ask. Not just to fill the silence, but because I'm curious. "Did you have fun besides studying?"
A guarded look flashes across his face, gone so quickly I almost missed it.
"It was fun, but not as good as being here."
"Did you make new friends?"
"No. You know I'm not good at making friends. I have only my best friend, but we've been besties since we were sixteen."
"Why haven't I ever heard of him?"
"He lives away. Besides, you never asked about my friends."
I feel like an asshole. It's true. Aziel and I were always wrapped in each other, barely paying attention to anyone else. And whenever I suggested including Sebastian, Aziel always made an excuse.
"I'm sorry about that," I say, and I mean it. He must have felt very lonely.
"No. You have nothing to apologize for. I was just the little annoying brother of your boyfriend."
The words are cold, factual, and true.
Then the corner of his lips lifts, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear there was heat in his eyes.
"But I'm no longer a kid. And I'm no longer the baby brother of your boyfriend. I'm a man. I hope you see that."
I swallow hard.
Fuck, I'm doing my best not to see that.
He's Sebastian, for fuck's sake.
I shouldn't be looking at him in any other way. But what he said is true… he's no longer a teenager. He's twenty-two years old.
"I know you're not a kid," I finally say.
"Do you? Do you really know it?" he challenges.
"I do," I insist.
He studies me, then shakes his head. "No. You don't." His voice is flat, defeated. The way he lowers his head twists something in my gut.
"Hey, I-" I start, but he cuts me off.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it. I get it."
He stands, and I follow, unsure what to say.
"I'll be heading out. We'll see each other at the club," he says, heading for the door.
I follow him and say, "Yeah. Thanks for the breakfast."
He spins around so fast I nearly collide with him.
"Silly. I only prepared it. It was your ingredients, so technically it's your breakfast."
"I don't see it like that."
"Well, I do." He rises on his toes and kisses my cheek. I freeze.
Then he whispers in my ear, "Thank you for yesterday and today, Daddy Ezrah."
A shiver runs through me at the sound of my name tangled with Daddy. He doesn't wait for a response, just slips out, shutting the door behind him.
I'm left staring at the empty space, confused and conflicted.
It was one thing for Sebastian to call me Daddy back when he half-saw me as a father figure. It's another thing entirely to hear it now, with my name, like it's the sweetest word in his life.
It makes my heart race, my brain tangle, and my dick too interested in someone it shouldn't be.
I need to sit him down and talk about this Daddy thing. He's probably saying it out of habit. That's all.
So why then, even after deciding that, does the thought of Sebastian not calling me Daddy make me want to rage and push him in the opposite direction, make him always call me that?
***
My shift tonight went smoothly, no problems like yesterday. If I checked on the bar more times than necessary, it was only to ensure everything was running smoothly.
Sebastian was his usual cheery self, and I was glad to see him like this.
Probably because he looked so happy, I didn't expect him to see him again at my door tonight.
"Sebastian? What are you doing here?" I say as I let him in.
"I figured since you technically still owe me a drink, we can have one tonight."
I notice the bag he's holding. "At my apartment?"
"Well, I thought after a long shift, you'd want to be comfy."
"You're not wrong," I admit as I guide him to the couch.
He pulls out whiskey and a bottle of cider. The whiskey is expensive.
"You didn't have to bring that. I've got whiskey at home."
"Do you have a cider?"
"No, I don't."
"I drink only shots and cider. The cider's for me and the whiskey's a gift for you."
"Thank you. I'll grab some snacks and glasses, and I'll be right back."
"Do you need help?" he asks, rising.
"No. Sit. I'll take care of it."
He obeys, and I head to the kitchen. Tonight feels like the right chance to talk about the Daddy thing. Though I noticed that… he hasn't said it tonight.
I return with glasses, then snacks.
Once we're settled, sipping our drinks, I ask, "Do you like working at the Vicious Vines?"
His face lights up instantly. "Yes! I love it. I knew Ethan from before, so it was easy to get the job."
"I'll be honest, I wondered how you managed it. Getting hired there isn't easy."
"I know. You need connections."
"I'm still surprised Ethan hired me," I admit. "A friend of mine vouched, but I didn't expect much."
"Are you happy there?"
"I am. Initially, it was tough, but the more time passed, the more I loved it. Now, as a manager, I love it even more."
"I'm happy for you, Daddy."
Now's the perfect opportunity to bring up the topic, but the words get stuck in my throat. Instead, I ask, "Tell me more about your life."
"What would you like to know?" he asks.
Everything.
"I don't know," I shrug, aiming for looking casual. "Whatever you're willing to share."
"This narrows it a bit, but not much, Daddy." He chuckles and gets this distant look as he's thinking.
I give him space.
"I like to play," he blurts.
"Play? What kind of play?"
He shrugs, almost shy. "I like toys. Fluffy ones. Legos. Sometimes I paint. Things like that." He looks around, frowning. "You don't even have small toys."
I chuckle, not at him but at his expression.
"I'll make sure to change that."
His eyes snap to mine. "Really?"
"Really."
I want him to feel comfortable in my house, especially if he comes again. If toys are what he needs, then I'll get them for him. I just hope he doesn't ask me why I'm doing that, since even I don't have an answer.
What he said also changes the way I see him. He opened for me with something I know is deeply personal.
He's a Little.
He didn't say it outright, but it was implied.
I do work in a BDSM club after all, and know enough about the lifestyle and the different parts of it.
It's not just that he likes toys, plenty of people do.
It's that coupled with the look on his face when we were in the playroom back in the club.
Something tells me I should have realized this sooner about Sebastian.
There's something so little about him, something that makes me want to tug him close and protect him. I don't want to think about how this changes things when he calls me Daddy.
"Can you tell me something about you now?" he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Fair enough." I hesitate, then offer something just as vulnerable. "For some time, I've been interested in the BDSM lifestyle."
As soon as I say it, I realize how it might sound after his confession.
Fuck.
"Really? What are you interested in?"
Fuck, why did I have to admit this? I can't exactly tell him I've imagined myself as a Dom. I can't tell him there's a part of me that wants to possess someone in some… questionable ways.
"I'm not sure. Working at the club opened my eyes to a lot," I say instead.
"Yes. Ethan's club is special like that."
We drift into safer topics like movies we've watched, places we like to visit, food we like to eat, and our workplace.
When he yawns, I check the time.
"It's late. I didn't realize how much time passed," I say.
"Me neither. I'll head home."
"Did you drive here?"
"Yes."
Before he can take another step, I stop him. "No way in hell. You're not driving. You've been drinking."
"It was just one cider."
"It doesn't matter. You can crash here tonight. I'll take the couch, you take my bed."
"No. If I stay, I'll take the couch."
"Sebastian," I warn.
"Daddy," he challenges me.
In the end, I relent. He can be stubborn as hell. I grab him a pillow and two blankets.
"Make yourself at home. I'm a heavy sleeper, so even if you wake early or make noise, I won't notice."
"Okay. Thank you."
"Of course. Good night, Sebastian."
"Good night, Daddy."