32. Chapter Thirty-Two
I stumble up the front steps and get myself into the house as quietly as I can. All the lights are off, so everyone must be asleep.
The group of us left when the club closed, so it’s close to three in the morning now.
I put the spare key that I claimed as mine on the hook and lock up the house. The town is pretty safe, but you never know. I turn a little too fast and lose my balance but steady myself, chuckle, and keep going.
“Good boys don’t stumble into the house at three in the morning.”
I freeze, a shiver running up my spine over that voice. Over those words.
I blink and bring my attention to the living room. It’s dark, but my eyes adjust after a few seconds, and I see the outline of a man sitting in the armchair. Cole.
“They don’t?” My words come out raspy, so I clear my throat, taking a step closer to him and leaning against the wall for support. Everything is moving.
He’s relaxed in the chair, leaning back, legs spread, staring ahead of him. He tilts his head just slightly to face me.
“No. They’re home at a reasonable hour. Go to bed at a reasonable hour so they can get a good night’s sleep. This way, they can wake up on time for breakfast. Because three meals a day are important.”
Breakfast? He wants me home early so I can go to bed early to be up for breakfast?
“Tomorrow isn’t Sunday.”
“Breakfast is important every day.”
I’m not sure what’s going on here. Is he giving me some kind of fatherly pep talk or is this supposed to be sexual? Don’t get me wrong, when I’m around Cole, I can turn anything he says sexual because I want it to be, but I’m not sure what the hell he’s talking about.
“Is this your way of implementing rules so I don’t keep you up all night?”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “You said you wanted lessons on being a better good boy. That’s what I’m doing.”
“I don’t understand how telling me to be home early and in bed like a ten-year-old is that. I’m not a child, Cole. I’m an adult.”
I’m not sure where this confidence is coming from. Why I’m giving him this attitude. I’m not mad at him, more insulted, I guess. If he wants me to be home at a decent hour, that’s fine. This is his house, and I’ll respect that. But don’t cover it up with some sexual innuendo just so I’ll listen. That’s kind of shitty.
Cole gets to his feet and stalks toward me. I flatten my back against the wall. He isn’t much taller than me, but right now, he’s towering over me. He brackets me in with his hands flat against the wall, leaning into me.
“This is my idea of a good boy, Bryson. You doing as you’re told. Doing what I want you to do. Pleasing me. Taking care of yourself and allowing me to do the same.”
I blink a few times, staring into his hardened gaze. I dart my tongue out to lick my lips because they’re suddenly so dry.
“Sounds like you want to boss me around.”
He shakes his head. “I want to take care of you.”
A frown tugs at my lips.
“That’s what you like?”
The times we’ve been together, Cole has been the one to take charge. He gives directions and I listen. But I always thought that’s because we were just in the moment. But now he’s telling me he wants me to do things outside of sex too? I’m not opposed to it, I just don’t understand it.
Even in the dark room, I see his eyes dip to my lips. They stay there for a long time before darting back to my eyes.
“Very much,” he rasps out.
Silence falls between us, and him being this close has my mind quiet. He does that to me. Makes my mind shut the hell up.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Yeah? You’ll do that for me?” His smirk is barely there, but I see it. His fingers brush over my cheek, then along my jaw until they settle at the back of my neck. “You want to be my good boy, Bryson?”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
“No one else’s?”
I shake my head. “Just yours.”
He hums a sound of approval, his fingers brushing the skin at the nape of my neck. My eyes fall closed, and when I open them, he’s still staring at me.
I lick my lips and say, “I thought we weren’t doing this?”
I shouldn’t bring it up. Should let it be. He’s offering… something. Whatever it is, I want it. But ignoring him has been difficult. What happens when we allow ourselves to feel something, and he pushes me away then? Will I survive that?
And what about Miss Mystery Tuesday Date Big Titties?
“We shouldn’t,” he says softly.
There’s a but after that. He doesn’t add it and I don’t ask. I ruin enough things. I don’t want to ruin this moment.
Do I ask about the girl though? I want to know. I should know. Not only for my sanity, but for my health. I don’t want him to think I’m a clingy, immature child. Which, maybe I am. Is being jealous over him going on a date with a woman make me that clingy immature person?
I don’t know. And I can’t think clearly enough to decide. So I say nothing about it.
Instead, I say, “I want to.”
He leans closer to me, brushing his lips over mine, but not kissing me. Just a whisper of a touch. His breath is warm on my skin, and I’m about to press forward to kiss him, but the unmistakable sound of creaking stairs breaks the silence.
Thank god for that third step from the bottom being loose.
Cole jerks away in just enough time for Chris to round the corner.
“Have a good night?” Chris says to me, entirely ignoring his father who walks to the door to check it, as if that’s what he was down here for. I watch him, his shoulders tense, as he turns to watch Chris staring at me. But all I can do is stare at him. And how fucked up this all is. Why do I think this is a good idea? Why am I pushing for something with Cole? I’m only going to get myself hurt. Pushing to be someone’s dirty little secret never ends well. “Bryson?”
I blink and turn my attention to Chris. “Sorry.” I chuckle. “Drank a lot.”
He throws his arm around my shoulder and leads me down the hall, entirely ignoring his father. Still. As Chris leads me toward the stairs, I look over my shoulder. Cole and I lock eyes. And I know this is going to be nothing less than a disaster.