Chapter 7
We both went back to my room where we slept, since we’d made a mess in his, and he said something about a housekeeper coming to clean in the morning.
It was the first time I’d shared a bed with someone overnight—but bonus points went to him being a cuddler, like my teddies, and giving me the occasional kisses in the middle of the night.
My ass, like he’d said, was sore as fuck.
Balls. No adult words. It hurt, a lot. Part of me wondered if I was bleeding, or if it would always feel that way—just like something was missing from me now.
I could understand why people would have sex with him and then leave the following day.
He was dangerous, but danger was hot sometimes.
I’m sure there were a lot of rumors around about him too, and if I were part of those circles, maybe I’d have known about the beer can of a cock he was weaponizing against the twinks of Boston.
I woke to the smell of something sweet in the air, and then a gentle rap of knuckles at the door. I noticed Santo wasn’t in bed anymore, and the curtains were blackout blinds, closed just enough for a trickle of light to appear in the middle.
“Hello,” I called out with a croak in my voice.
Santo, dressed in gray sweats—freeballing, the dick imprint had my eyes fixed on it—walked in with a blue plastic plate in his hand and a smile on his face.
“I thought you woke when I did,” he said as light from the hallway spilled in, forcing me to shield my eyes from it. “Come on, we’ve got a big day.”
I felt well rested. It must’ve been . . .
eight hours after, I don’t know. That was something strange about this place, there were no clocks, and my phone seemed to disappear from wherever I’d put it.
It wasn’t like I wanted to see my phone or the fucked-up shit my mom might’ve been saying to get me to send her money—once, she’d told me she was going to die, and I took it to mean suicide, but no, she was just hungry. Fuck. Shit . . . balls. No adult words.
“Thinking?” he asked, placing the plate on the bed. There were crepes, folded on one side, a well of melted chocolate and a section was filled with mixed berries—mostly strawberries. “You want a coffee or juice?” he asked.
I just nodded. “I’m—”
He sighed. “You want to leave?” he asked. “You can. I told you this. Anytime you want.”
I rubbed the bracelet around my wrist. “No, I—no. I don’t want to leave. But I’m—kinda scared.”
He nodded. “Rightly so. There’s a whole fuck ton of shit out there to be scared about.
But here, now, there’s nothing for you to fear.
I mean, you’ll have to make coffees and do your usual duties when we’re outside, that’s your job, but here, now, this is what I’m doing for you.
Anything outside of those things, don’t worry about them.
You’re mine, and because of that, you’re protected.
” He reached out to my hand with the bracelet on and gave it a little squeeze.
“And you can leave. I’ll even get my driver to take you home. ”
I shook my head. That was a lot of words to process all at once. “I understand, and I—I wanna stay, but since we—”
Santo sighed, he took one of the sliced strawberries and ate it. “You’ve got more questions. You wanna know how the burger is made of what I do.”
“Kinda. But I—I don’t wanna go to prison, or I don’t want you to go to prison.”
With a smirk, he made my question feel like he’d been asked it a million times before.
“Are you going to tell anyone?” he asked, and watched me shake my head.
“Good. Then you’ll never end up there. Now, as for Peter, that fucker deserved it for what he did.
And yes, there will be times when that happens.
You’ll not pull the trigger, but you’ll probably be there.
But maybe not as close as you were. I was testing you. ”
I knew it, and my entire body turned warm, sticky, and I was suddenly conscious of being naked in the bed now. “Can I get dressed?”
“Eat first,” he said. “Then you’ll shower, and I have a suit for you to wear. I wanna make sure you look pretty.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Because we’re meeting my mom,” he said. “If you wanna see how the burger is made, we’ll take a trip to the house I was raised in.”
I nodded. I didn’t know if I wanted to meet his mom, or anyone’s mom. I didn’t want to even get out of bed for fear my ass would fall right out
After the delicious breakfast he’d prepared, I took a shower, making sure to feel all parts of my body—some aching more than others.
Surprisingly, as I rimmed a finger around my ass, I wasn’t torn in two as I feared, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to take him again tonight—and there I was, yesterday, thirsting over wanting to get laid.
Santo prepared a suit for me as well. The bedroom was clean and bright when I came out of the en-suite bathroom in the comfy bathrobe and slippers.
The suit was hooked on the back of the door, and behind it a shiny gold sticker on the board.
It was under being a good boy. The other columns were still blank, so there was no telling what they could be.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the suit.
It was nicer and probably more expensive than anything I owned.
I didn’t want to ruin it, so I was spacing out in thought just staring at the navy suit and the crisp white shirt.
It was Tom Ford. I was about to cry when a knock came at the door.
It was Santo, of course, and the smell of him entered before he did.
He was coated in cologne, almost like a pheromone, and I suddenly forgot about how sore my ass had been.
“Come on,” he said, already in his smart clothes, and adjusting the sleeves of his white shirt to include fancy cufflinks.
“I also got you some cute briefs to wear as a nod to your little side.” He nodded to me, as if trying to make sure he’d done the right thing—and he really had.
It was almost a miracle how good he was at being Daddy.
“Anyway, get dressed, or bad Daddy will come out, and—” A wicked smile crossed his lips.
“I’m not sure I want to ruin you yet.” He winked at me and walked off again.
What exactly would he ruin . . . but my ass? And even that was now something I wasn’t sure was good to go if he did ask for another round.
The suit fit so well, I cried. It made me feel silly, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, grabbing a tissue to wipe my eyes with. I used some of the pomade and swished it through my hair to give it a little style rather than having it flopping around all pin-straight.
“Mhmm, you look fucking divine.” Daddy’s deep grumbling voice came from behind me.
“You left this in Daddy’s room,” he said, showing me my phone.
“Looks like you mom has—” I shook my head and he stopped.
“Are you ready to go out there and be Isaiah, the assistant to Santo Bianchi?” Walking up behind me, he dropped the phone into my pocket and kissed my neck.
“You’re still wearing it.” His hand stroked my right hand then up my arm. “Good boy.”
I felt for it on my wrist, brushing his fingers in the process.
We held hands after that for a single moment, like it was the last time we were both going to be this cuddled up and sweet with each other.
He had a persona to put on outside, and I knew he was going to be different, but somewhere in my mind I didn’t want that—I wanted him to be him, to be Daddy and cuddle me.
* * *
In the car, we were quiet. His knee was close to mine, and the comfort was there, but it almost felt like all the times he’d collected me from my apartment—as if we weren’t allowed to touch, but he was doing his best to keep his body attached to mine.
We were headed to the office, which is where he’d told me I could see all about the business and ask any more questions about what he did.
He was still adamant that he didn’t get his hands dirty much now, though I didn’t know if I believed him too much.
I’d already seen a man die—and I was so glad I’d been turned around for it.
Our hands touched briefly. “No notes when we’re inside,” he whispered. “That stays between us. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, my breath hitching with excitement.
It was the idea I was going to get a real look behind the curtains, and with his want for me to stay, I wondered just how much I’d get to see.
This was going to be great for the business degree I’d gone to college for, and even if this job didn’t work out, just seeing how some of the real businesses they owned worked was going to be huge for me.
We walked inside and Camille was there at the reception desk with a big smile. She was polishing her nails on one of the files, then swept away the nail dust from her desk and stood to greet us. I wondered if she really was his cousin, and my question was quickly answered.
“Cousin,” she said to him. “I was wondering when you were showing up today.”
“Why?” he asked with his smug grin that would’ve annoyed me, but now only made my ass tighten and not feel like it had been torn in two by his last night—his TLC had worked wonders, I suppose.
“Is there someone waiting for me?” He was quickly the same Santo again.
“You should’ve called. Is it one of my brothers? ”
“No, no, no,” she said with laughter. “Relax. I was just on the phone to my auntie Isabella, your mom, and she was just asking if you were around.”
“Right,” he said, glancing back at me and grinning. “If she calls again, tell her we’re coming over tonight.”
Camille’s eyes flitted between the two of us, my chest tightening in the tailored clothes.
I shuffled somewhat behind Santo, hoping to avoid her gaze, but from the smile on her face, she knew this was something Santo did, and I was just one guy in a long line of men who’d been fucked by him.
Suddenly, the clench of my hole didn’t feel as tight.