6. Draven #2
My father was furious when he heard from his friend who worked the graveyard shift at the hospital, and I didn’t blame him for being furious.
For the first time, I’d felt true regret about something that occurred at one of my parties.
I needed Dad’s help, one last time, but he was insistent on not giving me any.
Bill Franklin only wanted to go forward with the merger if he could press charges and get me tossed in jail.
Even if the jail time was short, or if we could easily make bail, Bill Franklin was steadfast about something that mattered even more: he wanted me out of Lyons Agriculture forever.
My family’s legacy, for generations before me.
It wasn’t just my inheritance, it was my family’s entire world.
Dad told him to go right ahead, instead of trying to defuse the situation.
He wanted to choose business over family. Over me.
He would rather see me in jail than lose the merger with Franklin, so I’d left town with Lily before anything worse could happen.
Dad had expressly told me the merger wouldn’t net the company any real profits.
It was an ego play.
Pure and simple.
To bring yet another company under the Lyons corporation name, erasing every other independent agricultural business in the region.
There was only one reason why my name wasn’t already scrubbed from the company.
Dad knew the cards I was holding. The things I knew.
Now, apparently, he was trying to get me to back off with money. But I’d always had money.
I pulled in a long breath of air.
It was such a stark contrast.
The simplicity of things for me here in Tennessee.
Max’s baby-blue eyes. The blush he couldn’t keep off of his cheeks.
Fuck, I wanted him.
And I was tired of playing games.
I picked up the phone and called Max, spurred on by my own anger.
I pushed the button to make it a video call, because I needed to look at something, anything, to distract me from my own life.
It was a goddamn good idea.
The moment he answered, his pretty face filled the screen. He was sitting on his couch in the barn, wearing a light pink tank top, wood paneling behind him.
“You look pissed off,” I said. “Your face is flushed.”
“Why are you video calling me?” he asked.
“Wanted to look at you. I don’t regret it.”
His skin looked so soft. I wished I could reach out and touch it. I loved the look in his eyes—so curious, but trying to hide it.
“Not falling for that shit,” Max said. “Tell me your secrets.”
I clicked my tongue. “I’m not telling you my secrets, Max.”
He bit his lower lip. “Then I’m never going to trust you.”
“Good. You shouldn’t trust me.”
I gazed at his ruddy lips, his eyes that looked even bluer in the video screen, and his slightly messed-up hair.
A few puzzle pieces clicked together in my mind.
“Oh, Baby Blue,” I said, my voice dropping slightly. “Were you jerking off when I called?”
He didn’t say anything.
Quickly, he panned the camera down, just giving me a quick glimpse lower. He wasn’t wearing pants, and he was grabbing his cock and balls, partially obscuring them from view. Before I could get a good look, he whipped the camera back up toward his face.
“Oh, fuck yes,” I said in a low tone.
So that’s the kind of “straight” guy you are.
“I shouldn’t have showed you that.”
“Yes you should have.”
“You interrupted me,” he said.
His eyes looked half-lidded with lust now, and I felt like I’d just won the lottery.
“Are you glad I interrupted?” I asked. “Don’t fucking answer that. I know you are. Keep touching yourself.”
He let out a sigh, his eyelids fluttering shut. “You are the worst,” he murmured.
“Eyes open,” I told him. “Look at me while you touch your cock.”
My heart started to pump now. This was exactly the type of distraction I wanted.
“Tell me,” he said again, but I could tell from his broken breath and a slight shaking of the camera that he was stroking his cock at the same time. “The secrets.”
“I’m a bad fucking person,” I said slowly. “That enough of a secret for you?”
“That part is obvious.”
“I want bad things,” I told him. “I want you under me again. I want to hurt you, knowing you enjoy it. I want to run the metal on my tongue right along the underside of your cock and make you fucking admit how much you enjoy it, Max.”
“Oh,” he uttered, barely audible over the audio of my phone. “Fuck you, Draven.”
“Say that again,” I told him through my teeth. “Say it louder.”
“Fuck you,” he said. “I fucking want your tongue, Draven, and I want you to make me come. I hate myself for it. I don’t want men. But sometimes I want… you.”
“Good, baby,” I said, closing my hand around my own cock as I praised him. “I know you want more, too.”
“ Tell me your secrets ,” he murmured, like a begging plea, into the video call.
“I hurt people,” I told him. “I let people get hurt. And I know it’ll happen to you, too, if you know my other secrets. That’s why you’re never going to.”
He breathed deeply. “Can’t stand you. You’re never going to give me anything.”
“I can’t give you what you want. But I can promise you that I’ll give you some things you desperately fucking need.”
He moaned deeply and I watched as his face flushed even redder, his eyes locked right on me.
I knew he was watching me, and me only.
His eyes on mine, even through this screen. It was like seeing chess pieces sliding into place, positioned perfectly, each move exactly as I’d wanted it to be.
I was becoming too fond of him.
I was starting to feel like he was mine . More than a passing thrill, more than a way to waste time in Tennessee.
A dangerous, possessive urge slid through my veins, heating me through.
And he was going to come for me.
“ Fuck , I’m going to come—” he said, and I watched as a few streaks of cum shot up, landing on the cotton of his tank top, painting it in white. “Oh, God .”
“Let me see it.”
“What?”
“Let me see it,” I repeated.
He swallowed hard, then panned the camera downward. The image wasn’t nearly as clear as I wished it was, but I saw his cock, with his fingers wrapped around it, cum dripping down the back of his hand and flooding the tip.
“This… this is never going to happen again,” he said.
“No,” I said. “Not like this. It’s going to be in person next time.”
He groaned, the camera panning back up to his face.
I watched him rest his head on the back of his couch for a moment, exposing the soft curve of his neck.
I gripped my cock, squeezing tight, my heart beating steadily in my chest.
Don’t get involved wasn’t really an option anymore.
Because just fucking look at him .
So perfect. So goddamn fuckable and open and willing.
I didn’t care if he didn’t belong to me—all I saw when I looked at him was something that I wanted to be mine .
“I didn’t know I could come that hard just from my own hand,” he breathed. My cock throbbed in my fist.
“You have no idea how good it can be.”