Chapter 1 #2
Their living room was cozier, with a huge comfy couch, two matching chairs, a thick rug, and the biggest flat-screen I’d seen outside of Best Buy and sports bars.
A ton of pictures on the walls too, and more colors.
The living room was where they stored mementos from their travels.
Each destination chosen because not many people went there.
Aside from their annual winter cruise, they opted for places like the Galapagos Islands, Madagascar, Nepal, and Svalbard.
They claimed a metropolis like London or New York was great for a long layover, an extra weekend, as they called it, but what they wanted to explore were cultures way more foreign to them.
One of the first times I’d had dinner with them, we’d talked vacations and the tradition Nate and I had had with the kids, where we’d traveled to our national parks.
And when I had asked James and Jordan about their own travels, Jordan had explained that it was always their goal to survive on James’s paycheck and some of his dabbling in the stock market. Jordan’s money was set aside for trips.
I guessed you could do that when you didn’t have children.
“Did James say anything else when he let you know I was coming over?” I asked and sat down.
The TV showed a nature documentary Jordan had paused.
“He just confirmed you’d stop by with supper.” He got comfortable with three blankets and made sure they fanned out across my lap too. “You gots to stay warm, Sir.”
I smiled and pulled the coffee table closer.
He had his pillows and duvet here too. And knowing James, it was he who had prepared the table with some essentials for Jordan. His water bottle, a couple of fun-sized bags of chips, popcorn, a bowl of carrot and celery sticks, a bag of gummy worms, and a few comic books. Even a power bank.
“I see you have no plans to move for the rest of the night,” I said.
“Correctomundo!”
I chuckled and moved his soup closer. “Let’s get some food in your stomach.” I handed him his spoon and the bread too.
“Thank you so much.” He crossed his legs under the blanket and kept the bowl in his lap, then reached for the remote and pushed play. “I hope you don’t mind watching cute birds with me.”
Would there be any ducks?
“Not at all.”
He grinned and scooped some soup into his mouth.
I should’ve bought something for myself too.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t been very hungry at Nate’s house. I’d managed two pizza slices before my stomach had twisted uncomfortably, as it tended to do over there. The hunger reappeared once the danger was over.
“Do you like all birds?” I wondered.
“Ummm—I find most fascinating,” he replied thoughtfully. “I have favorites. Like, hummingbirds, penguins, gannets, albatrosses, ducks, and blue jays.”
“Ducks, huh?”
He averted his gaze quickly to his soup. “Mm-hmm. But also, a lot of birds are super funny when you see their mating rituals. They dance! They look so silly.”
I grinned, noticing how quickly he changed the subject.
“Any other animals you like?” I wondered.
He thought about it, and I handed him a paper towel that he hurriedly scrubbed over his mouth.
Too fucking cute.
“I like tons of animals. I collect T-shirts from charities I support. But my favorite creature that’s not a bird has a dirty word in it, so I’d have to whisper it in your ear,” he said frankly.
I lifted my brows. “All right. Cockatoos are birds.”
He laughed and scooted closer. “I knowww. This is something else.” He reached up and leaned in, while I steadied the bowl in his lap. “I love nudibranchs,” he whispered.
What the fuck were those?
I inched back, too curious to maintain the close proximity. “I’ve never heard of that. It sounds as made-up as the illness James said you have.”
It took Jordan a beat to understand what I was talking about, and then he giggled behind his hand. “You mean abdomflixifluxitis? It’s super real. I heard it from Corey, an online friend in the Mclean community.”
Wait, what? Corey?
“Corey Cruz?” I pressed.
Jordan widened his eyes. “Yes! You know him?”
“Uh, yeah. Cute little shit. He’s datin’ a buddy of mine—Greer. Bratty as fuck too.”
“That’s him! He’s so awesome.” He shook his butt where he sat and ate more soup. “To be fair, he’s mostly innocent. Sadists set him up to be a brat.”
Ha! That was funny. Yeah, brats were known for their innocence. And Santa was real.
“So, what are nudibranchs?” I asked.
“They live in the ocean. Not to be confused with sea slugs—but kinda, still. They’re stunning. I’ll show you pictures later, okay?”
“Okay,” I chuckled. I couldn’t wait to look at pictures of…sea slugs.
Paws snuck into the living room and skidded under one of the chairs.
“Oh! You know what I did today, Sir?”
“No, tell me.”
“Very innocently, I asked James what life on Earth was like when he was my age. He wasn’t a fan.”
I looked back at him. Damn brat.
“Gee, I wonder why,” I drawled.
The giggler giggled. “Mister Ash?”
“Yeah?” I could sense the question coming from miles away.
“What was life on Earth like when you were my age?”
I shook my head in amusement. “How old are you now, twenty-seven?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I released a breath. To be that young again…
“Nineteen years ago, I guess I was gearing up to celebrate my one-year anniversary with Nate,” I answered.
“Life on Earth was way easier back then. Gas was cheaper. Food was cheaper. The pretzels were better. After work, I headed over to Tower Records and bought a new CD—unless I picked up a bootleg on South Street. We were culturally still stuck in the ’90s.
It was horrible being an Eagles fan, but at least it was easy to find parking in Center City after work hours.
And people complain about the garbage smell today?
Fuck. Nothing compared to what it was back then.
” I smiled to myself and wiped my mouth with a paper towel.
“There was this one place that had the best fuckin’ chicken fries too. ”
Damn. Jordan’s attempt to brat me had not only failed but sent me down the rabbit hole of memory lane.
I sighed. “Then the world changed on 9/11.”
Jordan appeared to be done too, so he returned his food to the table. “I’d say my trolling failed, but I like listening to you.”
He was sweet.
I leaned back against the cushions and felt weirdly content.
“You’re not leaving yet, are you?” He mirrored my move and ended up right beside me, shoulder to shoulder.
“Nah. I gotta make sure you survive your illness first.” I lolled my head along the back cushion and faced him.
He tucked his hands together and trapped them between his cheek and the cushion, and he blinked sleepily.
Goddamn, he was adorable.
“Eagles. I don’t like them,” he admitted.
I narrowed my eyes. “Careful now, little one. The bird or Philly’s finest?”
He flashed a quick grin. “Both! Football is boring, and the bird terrorizes other birds. Some subspecies feast on penguin chicks! Did you know?”
He was just a bird trivia factory, wasn’t he?
“I had no idea,” I murmured. “How are you faring with your deadly illness?”
“The abdomflixifluxitis? It’s still pretty flixifluxy.”
I exhaled a laugh. “Sounds rough. Is it contagious? I don’t have the time to get sick.”
He shook his head and sat up straighter to reach his soda. “No, Sir. Only sweet boys can get it. Big, bad Sadists are immune.”
Big, bad—
A smirk tugged at my lips. “You found my Mclean profile, didn’t you?”
I sure as fuck hadn’t mentioned I was a Sadist to him.
Jordan was suddenly extremely focused on his Coke—and avoiding eye contact.
I smiled slyly and tugged at his PJs. “Jordan…?”
“Crap,” he whispered and stared at the soda can. He licked his lips too and rubbed his nose. “Maybe I found you there?”
Was that a question?
Damn, I couldn’t shake the smile.
“In my defense, you popped up in Master Greer’s appreciation group, and I recognized your name and photo,” he said. “I swear I didn’t stalk you.”
I didn’t give a fuck. I was flattered by his interest.
“Did you see anything on my profile you liked?” I wondered.
He bit his bottom lip and returned the soda to the table. “Yes, Sir. So did James.”
I bet it was easier to bring James into the equation.
He cleared his throat. “But you already know that, considering he drank himself into oblivion on your team-building day.”
I hummed. “I know you two might be interested in having fun with a third, but he’s tight-lipped about his preferences.” Until today, I supposed. He’d confessed to being curious about cuckolding. “What did you like about my profile?”
The boy got squirmy and fell against my side to hide his face behind my shoulder. “That you’re a Daddy Dom and Primal Predator.”
I drew a deep breath and let my gaze travel his body. From his untamed hair down to his little toes that poked out from under the blankets.
“And what does James like?” I asked quietly.
“That you’re a dominant Top,” he confessed. “He, um…he considers himself fairly vanilla, but he has kinky fantasies. Like, he doesn’t want a lifestyle dynamic. Just fun playtime here and there.”
I reached over and combed my fingers through his hair, unable to help myself, and he shivered and slipped his arms around my bicep.
“What kinds of fantasies?”
“Ohhh, it’s embarrassing, Sir…”
I didn’t mind his embarrassment. Hell, I fed off it.
“Tell me, boy.”
He swallowed audibly. “He wants you to control him while he takes me. And, um…he wants to watch and feel humiliation and stuff. And…he admitted to fantasizing about you calling him into your office and using him.”
Goddamn.
I grabbed my cock through my sweats and adjusted it.
“Are they your fantasies too?” I asked next.
“Yes,” he mumbled, the sound muffled by my shoulder. “I wanna see him lose it. I’m a bit of a switch, you see.”
As I’d suspected.
“But I also fantasize about stuff for myself.” He became even shier when he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’ve never had a Daddy Dom…”