Chapter 2
DASH
I double-checked that the flimsy lock on my bedroom door was engaged and then flopped onto my bed, one hand already going down my pants as I used the other to open an incognito tab on my phone and pull up the porn site I’d finally been able to buy a subscription to, thanks to my new job at La Vigneta.
I’d only been working there for two weeks and it was already the best thing that had ever happened to me.
Tonight, for example—
But no. I let go of my dick and took a calming breath, tossing the phone aside for a minute and staring up at the ceiling instead.
I always came too fast once I got started, and since both my mom and the current loser she was dating would be home later this evening, I knew the not-so-distant future was going to end up being the usual shit show that my home life had always consisted of.
All the more reason not to rush through what would probably end up as the one good moment I’d have all night.
I glanced toward my bedroom door, nibbling my lip hard as I tried to guess how likely either one of them was to come back earlier than expected.
I didn’t want to rush my me-time too much, but that sure as heck didn’t mean I had all the time in the world, either.
I’d still need time to scamper down the hall to the bathroom and clean myself up afterward, before either of them got home.
Not that this crappy apartment Mom’s current boyfriend was allowing us to stay in with him felt anything like a “home” or anything, but since it beat some of the other places we’d stayed—and, as Mom liked to constantly point out, no one was asking me to pay rent yet—I guess I couldn’t complain.
What I could do, what I had done, was finally make a plan to get the heck out and go somewhere better.
Not that I knew where “better” might be, but with my new job and a promise to myself that the splurge on the porn site membership would be my one and only luxury expense, I might actually be able to save up enough to get my own place soon.
Not a nice place.
Probably not even a place here in expensive-as-heck New York.
But it would be my place. A place away from Mom’s constant criticism and cutting remarks. Away from her never ending stream of loser boyfriends. Away from having to pretend that I could ever make her happy, no matter how hard I tried to be good.
Well, I used to try, at least. Now, I mostly just tried not to be noticed. And I especially tried to make sure that certain things about me weren’t noticed... which was why I’d also splurged on buying the lock for my bedroom door.
And, dang it, I guess that meant I’d already broken my own no-spending rule, but the lock would really and truly be my last luxury expense, because from here on out I was going to save all the rest of my earnings for a new place for sure.
I didn’t have any actual plans beyond that—even if I’d had all the money in the world, my grades from high school hadn’t been good enough to think about college, and it was a holy miracle that I’d ever gotten hired on at a nice place like La Vigneta in the first place—but at least the idea of an apartment of my own gave me one good thing to look forward to.
My hand crept back down the front of my pants. Okay, maybe I had two good things to look forward to, even if this first one was going to be over pretty fast.
I bit my lip, pushing my fingers under the edge of the ugly white briefs I was wearing to brush against the tip of my dick.
It was all wet, just like it had been ever since the super-hot older guy had come into the restaurant earlier, and the minute I touched myself it jerked against my stomach, smearing the slick mess all over me.
I gasped, hips thrusting up as I totally forgot my plan to draw it out a little and shoved my hand deeper into my underwear. It felt so good that I might not even need to watch any porn to get myself there at this rate.
No surprise, I guess. At this point my dick had been so hard, for so long, that it was a wonder I hadn’t accidentally jizzed myself on the train home.
I had no clue why the younger guy who’d called me over to the table had said all that filthy and exciting stuff to me about the other one giving me a birthday present, and I knew for sure that no one who could afford to eat at a place like that would ever actually be interested in me, but dang.
That hadn’t seemed to stop my dick from getting all sorts of excited the minute Hot Daddy had walked into the restaurant tonight…
and that excitement had made me all tongue-tied and stupid when they’d actually called me over to the table.
Callum. That’s right. The cocky young one had called Hot Daddy Callum.
And when Callum had looked at me, his dick had been hard, too.
And fine, maybe his hard-on hadn’t been for me.
I mean, let’s be real, probably it hadn’t—it had probably just been part of whatever twisted game they’d been playing with all that filthy talk—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still pretend that the flash of heat in his eyes after he’d shot out of his chair and caught me looking at it hadn’t meant something. There was no harm in that, right?
I could pretend it meant he wanted me.
I could pretend it meant he saw me.
And that it meant that maybe, just maybe, if I tried really hard and was oh so good for him, he’d even take me… touch me… do all the sorts of things to me that I liked to watch online.
I moaned, immediately slamming my free arm over my face to try and stifle the sound behind my elbow since I never knew when Mom or her current loser would show up.
I didn’t slow down, though. I couldn’t. I was panting hard, stroking myself faster and faster—well, stroking myself as much as I could, given that I hadn’t even unzipped my pants yet and didn’t have the patience to undo them or to shove my boring underwear out of the way.
I wouldn’t need to, though.
I was so close.
So close… so… so…
“Callum,” I whispered, imagining that he was the one who was doing this to me. And then I said it louder, even though I shouldn’t, my back arching off the bed as the cum suddenly started erupting out of me in hot, messy spurts. “Callum.”
I kept stroking, kept coming, kept saying his name over and over as I let the good feelings surge through me, cresting and crashing and rising again until I finally felt like I’d melted right into the lumpy mattress and might never move again.
I sighed when it finally started to fade, feeling good.
This was the best, the absolute best part of my day, and even though I was usually kind of squeamish about sticky, gooey things, I didn’t even mind the mess in my underwear this time.
In fact, it was still there—along with my hand, wrapped around my softening dick—when I let myself drift off into a kind of glowy, dreamy nap, letting all those good feelings take me to a much better place than the one I lived in every day here in the real world.
A place where I could feel this good all the time… and someone like Hot Daddy Callum would actually want me.
A resounding crash woke me up.
“What the fuck is this, Dashiell?” Terrance, my mother’s boyfriend, spat, elbowing his way through the splintered bedroom door he’d just forced open as I jerked upright.
I flailed for balance, one hand still caught in my cum-soaked underwear and the other busy knocking my phone onto the floor. As soon as it hit, the sound of deep, nasty moans filled the room.
My heart shot up into my throat, trying to choke the life out of me. I must have accidentally swiped a play button on the porn site I’d left open on my phone when I’d knocked it off the bed.
“What… the actual… fuck?” Terrance said, breathing hard as his squinty, piggish-looking eyes darted between my phone, the broken door, and the scrap of lace in his hand.
The scrap of...
Oh.
No. No no no no no.
Please have me still be dreaming.
“Did you install a goddamn lock on this door?” he finally asked, his hard, mean gaze finally settling in one place—on me. “You put a lock on the door in my house, that I let you stay in rent free, out of the goodness of my goddamn heart?”
I swallowed, finally managing to extract my hand from my messy pants and trying to subtly wipe it clean on the bed without him noticing too much.
I didn’t think Terrance was a hitter—at least, I hadn’t seen any sign of it yet—but the way the veins were starting to stand out in his forehead definitely wasn’t a good sign.
And he’d found… found them.
My eyes darted to the pretty little panties he was holding before I could stop myself, which was all kinds of stupid because he saw me looking and it obviously reminded him of the reason he must have barged into my room in the first place.
“What the fuck are these, Dashiell?” he asked, holding them up and shaking them at me.
“They aren’t your mama’s. And they smell like fucking cum.
Are you fucking hot little high school girls in here, under my roof, while I’m busy earning a goddamn living just so I can support your sorry ass?
Do you think I go to work just so you and your mama can freeload off me?
So you can poke your little dick into hot teenage pussy whenever you please, while I’m out slaving away? While I… while…”
His voice had been getting louder with every word, maybe because he was pissed off, or maybe just so he could be heard over the escalating sounds of the porn still blaring from my phone, but the porn finally won, distracting him.
His voice trailed off, and he used his toe to kick my phone over, exposing the screen.
Nothing good could possibly come from him seeing that. Absolutely nothing.
I scrambled off the bed as fast as I could, falling onto my hands and knees but then quickly getting up and getting back, as far away from him as I could manage in the small room.
I knew darn well what Terrance thought of “dirty queers,” since it was one of his favorite topics to rant about when he, my mom, and a few six-packs of beer were all home together, and I could only imagine what he’d have to say—what he’d do—once he realized just what kind of porn I liked to watch.
“What the… fuck?” Terrance said, tilting his head to the side and squinting down at my phone quizzically. He sounded more confused than mad for a second, probably because he wasn’t all that bright, but then—
“What are you… why are there two… Dashiell, is that… holy motherfucking shit.”
At “shit,” he suddenly jerked back like the phone had burned him, the confusion on his face replaced by a look of disgust. His eyes snapped up to meet mine, then he slowly turned his head to look down at the panties he was still holding in his hand, making the connection between what he’d just seen and what I. ..
“You came in these girl panties?” he asked, dropping them onto the floor and kicking them away as he shook out his hand like it had gotten tainted. “While watching… that?”
Yes.
So many times.
I shook my head anyway, a silent lie out of desperation even though it was probably pointless to try and deny the truth now.
His lip curled back in a nasty sneer. “At least tell me you were just jerking yourself off with them,” he said in a scary-mean voice that made my stomach twist up so tight I honestly thought I might hurl.
He stalked toward me. “Jerking it, I could maybe understand. But if you were actually… actually wearing them to get yourself off, you little sicko—”
I cringed back against the wall, still shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Terrance. I—”
My mom’s voice, gritty and rough from the cigarettes she’d been chain-smoking ever since I was little as she called out to her boyfriend, interrupted me before I could come up with any kind of defense.
“Terrance? You in here, babe?”
She poked her head into my room to look for him, and it was just enough of a distraction for me to scoop my phone off the floor and make a break for it.
“Oh no you don’t, you dirty little pervert,” Terrance shouted, lunging at me as I darted past him. “You’re not staying here rent free and getting away with this kind of sick shit under my roof. Not in my fucking house.”
It wasn’t even a house. It was just a crappy little apartment in the worst part of Queens. But I clearly wasn’t welcome there anymore, and for the first time in my life, I agreed with one of Mom’s boyfriends.
I definitely couldn’t stay, and it didn’t really matter that I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
I bolted, and I didn’t look back.