Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Connor
M y week is busy. My calendar is packed full with meetings and appointments. I even have a meeting set up with my youngest brother, Joel, when he just could have stopped by my office. But if Joel is asking for dinner, then it’s something important.
Thursday evening, I sit across from the youngest in our family of seven kids, looking every bit the spoiled baby he is. Shane said he scheduled the time as an appointment so I would have uninterrupted time with my family and my colleagues could see I would be unreachable. He’s always so thoughtful that way.
Momma and Poppa were in their mid-forties when they decided it was a great idea to have their last kid. “Midlife crisis,” my father would say jokingly, but we all know he and Momma would have had more if not for all the complications she had with Joel.
My omega baby brother is a pest but extremely lovable. It was all of our faults, since we spoiled him rotten, along with our parents. It might be coming back to bite us all in the ass, as Joel comes to whine to all of us about the others not letting him get his way. Guess it’s my turn to get an earful of what no one is doing for him.
“And then,” he drones on, “Lacy said she wouldn’t be paying my cell phone bill this month because I got a C on my exam. It’s a C, Connor! It’s passing. Not everyone can be smart like her.” Joel is in his third year of undergrad, just about ready to go to medical school. He needs high marks if he’s going to be accepted into a good program, but that is a bit harsh.
Joel is an outstanding student and a good kid. He does what he has to do in school and keeps his grades up, but it can’t be easy with his course load. He wanted to double major so he could have something to fall back on in case med school fell through, and he’s been doing an amazing job with As and Bs every year. I have to agree with him on this one.
Our sister, Lacy, is the brainiac. She’s a neurosurgeon at the number one hospital in the state, and Joel looks up to her—one reason he wanted to go to med school. But she places extremely high expectations on him, and that’s not fair. He’ll crack under the pressure if she keeps it up.
“It’s fine, Joel,” I say, patting his hand. “I’ll pay for it if she doesn’t, but you know she’s bluffing to get you to do better.”
His face falls, and he moves the food around on his plate. “I know, but Connor, I’m trying so hard. I really am. I don’t want to disappoint her, you know?”
“Hey,” I say. He looks up at me, and I see the unshed tears in his eyes. “None of that. Your C is perfectly acceptable. Next time you talk to Lacy, ask her what happened on her Chem lab exam her freshman year. She’ll cut you some slack then.” I give him a gentle smile, and he nods, smiling back and wiping the stray tear that falls.
“Thanks, Connor. You’re the best big brother.”
“I’m telling Mark,” I quip, making him laugh.
“Can I ask you something?” he says when he’s done cracking up.
I have to look up at him and study his expression. He looks so serious, something that’s out of place with Joel. Though he’s serious about his studies, when it comes to talking to his family, he’s always joking and laughing and playing around.
“Yeah, sure, kid. Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. I was just wondering…” He takes a deep breath and dips his head, blushing. “Why aren’t you seeing anyone? I know you have… particular tastes, but why don’t you have… a…”
“Boy?” I finish for him, knowing it’s hard for him to voice the words.
My family knows what I like. They know I like the nurturing aspect of being a Daddy and how I crave someone to take care of. Joel heard me and Mark, the oldest of us, talking about it after I announced my divorce from Chet, and he started asking questions. We never lie to each other, so we gently explained what it meant to be a Daddy and to have a boy. Joel rolled with it, but I think it’s still weird for him to talk with me about sex when I’m old enough to be his father.
“Yes,” he says, looking relieved that he didn’t have to say it.
Shrugging, I push the food around on my plate just as he was earlier. “I’ve tried looking, but no one has caught my eye.” I can’t very well tell my twenty-year-old brother that I’m using an escort service to take the edge off until I find someone. “Maybe it’s too late for me. After Chet, no one has really held my attention.”
Except Shane. My brain burps up that small bit of information, and I have to beat it back before I start telling Joel about him.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to do it anyway. Shane is amazing. I love how his cheeks are always flushed when he talks to me, how he ducks his head when I glance at him for too long, or how he bites on his perfect bottom lip when he’s fighting back a smile at one of my terrible old alpha jokes. Not only that, but he’s organized, efficient, and knows me better than I probably know myself.
But I can’t tell Joel about him. My brother is a meddler. He will show up at my job and try to convince Shane to make a move on me so I can be happy. That will only end in disaster because I don’t date employees, and I would hate to make Shane feel uncomfortable if he weren’t interested in me at all. He’s the best personal assistant I’ve ever had. It would be a shame to have tension between us if his act of seduction didn’t work or he thought I’d try to seduce him.
Joel gives me a sad smile. “I might be biased since I’m your brother, but you’re a catch. You’re smart and weirdly funny. Plus you have all your hair, even though you’re fucking ancient.” He laughs at his little dig. I throw my napkin at him, making him laugh harder. “Seriously, bro. You’re a good alpha. Any omega would be lucky to have you. And it’s not too late for you. I have a feeling you’ll find who you need, and it’ll be the person you least expect.”
“Maybe. I’ll let you keep the faith, little brother. For now, I’ll work until he comes along or I die of old age.” Joel laughs again, and we continue our dinner, talking about when I’ll visit because Momma and Poppa miss me. He still lives at home with no desire to ever leave since my parents still spoil him.
Before Joel hops out of my car when I pull up to the house, he turns to me and throws his arms around my neck, giving me a long hug. “Let yourself live, Connor. You deserve it.” He pulls back and pats me lightly on the face. “Don’t hold yourself back, and I promise everything will work out.”
He gets out of the car and is trotting up the driveway before I can stop him and ask when the fuck he got so wise. I wonder if he might have a point as I drive back to my penthouse. He might be right. While I’m not exactly rigid, I don’t take the time to have fun or do fun things. I can’t blame it on my age, because I’ve always been like this. Chet and I were the same in that regard—being really comfortable with how we were and not wanting to do anything out of our comfort zone. I think that’s why it might have been a shock when I told him I wanted a different dynamic in our relationship. I don’t think he could understand why I wanted something more, something different.
When I step inside my penthouse, I have the overwhelming urge to call Shane, just to see what he’s doing. Which is strange because Shane and I have only spoken on the phone a handful of time and even then, it was always about work. But my assistant has been on my mind a lot lately. Something about him is putting him into sharp focus lately, making him the only thing I can think about.
I deflate and plop on my couch. There’s no way a boy like Shane would want me. While I’m good looking and wealthy, I’m also about fifteen years older than he is. When he’s my age, I’ll be almost sixty, no longer sexy or attractive to a guy like him.
And what’s to say Shane is even attracted to me now? Sure, he blushes when he’s near me, and he compliments me often, but he might be a naturally shy man, and I always ask how I look before he sends me a compliment. He might be afraid he’ll be fired if he tells me I look like shit. Oh Gods, what if he thinks I look like shit?
But what if he doesn’t? What if he was interested and my stupid policy about not dating employees is what’s holding him back? What if he is honest with his compliments but is too shy to say more than that? What if Shane wants me? What if, what if, what if?
On that note, I drag myself to bed, hoping I can keep my confusing feelings for my assistant to myself for a while. Though when I lie in bed, it’s not much better. When I close my eyes, images of Shane fixing my tie dance behind my lids. It’s not even a sexual gesture, but my cock stands at attention thinking about Shane’s trembling hands as he pushed the knot of my tie tighter. How his eyes briefly met mine, something swimming behind his gaze that I couldn’t pinpoint.
But what really has my cock leaking so much that I have to take it in hand and stroke myself off is how his scent got stronger when that involuntary growl snuck up my throat. His scent burrowed into my nose and settled somewhere deep in my chest.
Gripping my shaft in my hand, I jerk myself in rapid strokes, thinking about Shane’s sweet face as he gazed up at me, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He was a fucking vision, the picture of innocence. Gods, I wanted to sully him, to get him dirty just so I could have the honor of cleaning him back up.
With a curse, I explode to fantasies of Shane looking up at me from on his knees, calling me Daddy before he sucks me into his mouth. My cock kicks off again and again at the thought of Shane bent over my desk, taking a hard spanking from his Daddy.
Breathing heavily, I milk myself until my balls are empty, then let my messy hand flop to the bed. Fuck, I got it bad for my assistant. Too bad there will never be anything between us.
No matter how much I want there to be.