Steve 21.
I’ve been sitting in the clubroom, my foot tapping, my heart racing, my mind whirling. So many things to overthink about, the least of which is who has it out for me? Chase and I were whispering back and forth trying to figure it out since the brothers went into a second synagogue to discuss my new development, but Dru, Lang, and Addy pulled him away to discuss something about…I really wasn’t paying attention. With our conversation interrupted, my focus turned to the big, burly man making my blood heat with a simple look from across the room.
Daddy. I’ve never had a daddy. Never really dove too deep beneath the surface for fear of someone finding out who I am. I know it’s a chicken shit way to live, but I wanted separation between Ulysses and Steve. And now, everyone here is going to know the two are one and the same. Will they look at me differently? Treat me differently? Tell me to leave?
No, they can’t. Rowan claimed me. Claimed Me! He didn’t ask me first, and I know feminism and all, I should be mad about that, but it’s so… daddy like.
“So…” I startle when Brooks starts talking from next to me on the couch. I didn’t even realize he sat down. “I’m mad I didn’t figure it out sooner, but you’re…submissive? A boy? I’m not sure what the proper terminology is for that lifestyle.”
Laughing, I turn slightly to face him, but my eyes keep straying to Rowan at the bar. “Um, well, yes?”
Brooks chuckles, “You sound confident in your answer.”
I shrug, dragging my eyes to Brooks. “I am, but I’ve never explored that before, never felt comfortable.” Brooks’ eyes soften as he nudges my arm with his, sort of, dude is hella short.
“I can understand that.” And he can, I have no doubt. Given more time, I probably would have opened up to him about my desires. Brooks’ life hasn’t been a cakewalk, and being transgender is never easy, even in this day and age. It’s confusing for so many people, and that often equals hostility because they fear what they don’t understand. At least he had his brother Lex to look out for him. “I have noticed some heavy looks between you and Rowan, though, so I haven’t completely lost my touch. You seemed surprised by his claim at breakfast?”
Now, I laugh heartily, throwing my head back and closing my eyes. “What gave it away? I think we’ve been dancing in some way around one another for months, but I thought prospects couldn’t be with…Hospitality Specialists, let alone claim one as an ol’ partner.”
“Yeah.” Brooks muses as he glances at Rowan. “Pretty sure he was under the same impression. But he didn’t seem to have any problem bucking that perceived system.”
“I’m hoping he’ll buck something else.” I mutter.
“I don’t think you’ll have to wait long.”
My eyes widen when Rowan rounds the bar and stalks toward me. He brackets me on the couch with his thick muscular arms, leans in close and drags his nose up my throat to my ear.
“Be a good boy for me today. I have to go to work, but I’ll be back around midnight. Make sure to leave your door unlocked.” He pulls back fractionally, looks me in the eye and smirks. “Better yet, wait in my bed for me.” I gulp but manage to nod. “I’ll have Mercu—”
“I’ll take care of giving him access to your room.” Brooks interrupts. “Is this a one-time thing or…?” I give Brooks the evil side-eye but he just chuckles.
“Permanent access,” Rowan declares, then takes my lips rough at first, but he soon slows down, sipping at my mouth, swallowing my whimpers of need.
“Hot damn.” I vaguely hear Brooks mutter, “When is synagogue gonna be over? I need Mercury.” I feel the couch shift as he stands up, presumably in search of his man, but I only care about Rowan and the heat of his body and the feel of his scruff against mine, the taste of him. My hands twist in his t-shirt and pull him closer, wanting him to fucking devour me.
Rowan separates too soon, I try to follow him, wanting his tongue in my mouth again, but he chuckles darkly and stands up straight. Fucking hell. His massive hard-on is eye level in his dark jeans, my hands stretch out to unzip—
“Uh-uh, boy. If you behave, I might let you play later.”
“I can be good.” He runs his blue gaze up and down my body, and I may or may not preen a little for him as he does. He licks his lower lip, then adjusts himself shamelessly.
“I have no doubt, baby. But being bad has its perks too.” He winks at me, spins on his booted feet and casually saunters out of the clubhouse. I watch his ass flex and bunch under the fabric of his jeans, the way it stretches across the thick slabs of muscle, and nearly swallow my own tongue.
I’m in trouble, in more ways than one.