Chapter 12 #2
“They expected you to manage the property, and from what you’ve shared with me, I know you keep a pretty involved budget to help you do that. Did the rent cover everything?”
He looked down. “No. I wasn’t very good at that part.”
I tipped his face back up. “Owen, it’s math. It’s numbers. You are fucking excellent at it. You know what needs to be done and when, you pay your bills on time, and you stay on top of seasonal maintenance tasks.”
“Except the water heater.”
“Except the ones that simply exceeded your budget, baby. But it’s not your house. It’s your parents’. And if they weren’t willing to invest the money it actually took to maintain it, then taking the hit on their investment is on them, not you.”
His eyes widened as he stared at me, unblinking.
“From what I’ve seen, you did everything right. But you were only able to work with what you had, and you stretched that as far as you could and then some. If there was negligence, then the insurance company is probably in the right, but it was their negligence, not yours. This is not your fault.”
“It’s not?”
He clamped down on his lower lip with his teeth.
“No. It’s not,” I said, tsking at him gently as I tugged it free, then leaned in to soothe it with a gentle kiss.
“But…”
This time, I didn’t interrupt him. I just held him, rubbing big, lazy circles against his back, and let him think it through for himself.
After a few minutes, he sucked in a shaky breath, then squared his shoulders. “I, um, I think you’re right, Daddy.”
I grinned, opening my mouth to tell him how proud I was of him, but before I could, he went on.
“But I don’t think that’s going to change how mad about all this my parents are.
They just want me to be responsible? That was kind of the point of them buying the house and letting me live there.
So, um, I don’t think they’re going to let me off the hook.
They’ll still expect me to figure out how to make it right, and I don’t…
um, I don’t really know how I’m going to do that. ”
“You are responsible,” I said firmly, holding his gaze, “and making it right is not your job here. It’s theirs. You don’t make someone responsible by throwing them in the deep end of the pool without a life jacket and expecting them to swim, you do it by guiding and coaching them along the way.”
He laughed, a sound that was more stress relief than humor. “Um, not if you’re my parents. That’s totally what they did. You know, the pool thing? That’s how they taught me to swim.” He gave me a shaky smile. “And, I mean, it was definitely a little bit scary, but also, like, fine? I didn’t drown.”
“Oh, baby. You deserve better than not drowning. So much better.”
His shaky smile turned shy and kind of beautiful. “But I have it now, don’t I? I, um, I have you.”
“Damn right you do,” I practically growled. “And I have you.”
I cupped the back of his head and took his mouth, moving him around until he was straddling me and then kissing him senseless.
I wanted him panting and clinging to me.
I wanted to do my damndest to give him something better, right then and there.
“Can I… can I ask you something, Daddy?” he said breathlessly, flushed and gorgeous, when I finally let him come up for air. “It’s not about, you know, the insurance stuff, though.”
“Always, baby,” I said with a chuckle. “Anything.”
My cock was hard and aching. If he was still thinking about insurance, then I still had work to do.
He blushed, but didn’t look away even though I could tell he was feeling a little anxious about whatever he wanted to ask.
“It’s about what you said? That you… have me.”
“Yes?” I prompted when he didn’t go on, stroking his hair.
“Um, but you haven’t?” he whispered.
“I haven’t done what, sweetheart?”
He bit his lip, nibbling it nervously, but when I gave it a pointed look he immediately stopped, licking over the abused flesh as his blush turned a deeper shade of red.
“Good boy.”
The praise had him smiling and blushing even harder as he squirmed on my lap, which felt incredible on top of my cock.
Then he did it again, squirming much more deliberately, and breathlessly said, “You haven’t, um, had me. You know, like… sex?”
All the blood rushed down to my cock. Owen and I had had plenty of sex. My boy had the healthy libido of a horny twenty-one-year-old, and had meant what he’d told me the first night we were together when he said he was eager to do “everything.”
I’d had more sex this week than I’d had in the entire last year, both of us getting off multiple times every day, using hands and mouths and every body part in between.
But there hadn’t been any penetration. Not yet. He hadn’t asked, and I hadn’t wanted to push it.
But I was pretty sure he was asking now.
“I Googled it,” he went on earnestly, nervously plucking at my shirt. “And I get that not, um, not every guy likes that. You know, um, anal? But do you? Because I, um, I wouldn’t mind trying it, but we don’t have to if you’re not—oh.”
His eyes went wide as my cock jerked with excitement, a low, needful groan ripping out of me.
“You do like it,” he breathed out, a gorgeously hopeful grin spreading across his face.
“Yeah, baby, I do.” My hands dropped to his hips, and I moved him, thrusting up to rub myself along his crack as I rocked him back and forth over my shaft. “But you’re right, not everyone does.”
“I… I think I would,” he panted, his pupils blown wide. “If you would? Can we? Daddy? Will you… will you fuck me?”
Yes.
Christ.
Anything he needed, every time he asked me, would always be yes for him. But this? Asking me if I wanted to fuck him?
That wasn’t just yes. It was a gift, a blessing, and a higher calling I was more than happy to answer.
It was a hell yes.
It was also the best way I knew to show my boy how I felt about him.
Because the last thing I wanted to do was scare him off by saying the actual words too soon.