Trained By My Girlfriend's Dad: A M/M Straight To Gay First Time Romance

by Charlotte Storm

  Fuck. I hate wanting anyone. Let alone someone I crave as badly as Dominic. My daughter’s boyfriend.

  I don’t know what it is about him. No, that’s not true. I do know. I hate the reason I’m drawn to him like a bear to honey. And damn, do I want to taste his nectar. Make him swallow mine.

  But that isn’t happening. It won’t happen. It can’t happen.

  I know Julie actually cares for this guy, or she wouldn’t have brought him home. He’s wrong for her, obviously. He doesn’t love her the way she deserves, and he’s too busy ogling me to really pay attention to her.

  She deserves all the attention in the room. The right man would give that to her. Dominic isn’t the right man.

  When we’re in a room together, all of his attention is on me.

  Tonight, I’ll settle for getting attention from my sub. I’ll have to take out my aggression and cravings on his ass, instead. A poor substitute, but he’ll have to do.

  Five more weeks. Five long, torturous fucking weeks until they both leave to head back to school.

  After tying on my running shoes, I try to find Julie to let her know I’m going for a jog. Ten miles should calm me enough to get through the rest of the day. Get me to when my sub arrives.

  I find Dominic instead. In my kitchen. Cooking with my utensils, using the food I bought. He looks so domestic. Normal. And if he weren’t my daughter’s boyfriend, I could imagine he was mine. About to cook me a meal.

  If he doesn’t stop staring at me like that, I’m going to claim him. Fuck him against the kitchen counter, permission, consequences, and everything else be damned.

  He swallows, and goddamn. I want it to be my load he can’t quite get down, not his dry mouth.

  “Uh, g-good morning, Mr. Cole.” Dominic sets down the pan and a carton of eggs.

  Squeezing my fists tight, I roll out my shoulders, turn the full force of my glare on him. “Sir. You’re to call me sir. Only those who have earned my respect get to call me Mr. Cole.”

  He licks his lips, and now I can’t keep my eyes off them. “Yes, sir.” I watch his mouth form the two words that make me harder than granite.

  “Have you ever been with a man before, Dominic?”

  The question is out before I can stop it. Before I can rationalize that I shouldn’t be asking. That it’s none of my business, and his answer doesn’t matter.

  His eyes widen, and he flinches as if I just smacked his ass.

  My hand twitches at the thought.

  “No!” He jerks back, hits the pan that he set on the stove. He tries to catch it, and fails. It clatters against the floor.

  I stand there, rigid, and watch him flounder.

  “I, uh...shit, I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” He straightens up, clutches the pan to his chest like armor. He’s lucky the heat wasn’t turned on. “Sir.”

  My lips twitch, my mouth sliding into an easy grin.

  “What I meant to say was no.” He pushes his glasses further up his nose. “I’ve never been with a man. I’m straight.”

  Dropping my arms to my sides, I stalk toward him. He backs against the counter next to the stove, his panicked gaze darting back and forth, looking for a way out of this.

  There isn’t one.

  Only when I’m close enough that I can smell his cologne, count every perfectly quaffed strand of styled hair, do I stop. I grab hold of the granite countertop on either side of my daughter’s boyfriend, caging him in.

  Using slow, calculated movements, I rip the pan from his grip, place it on the stovetop. His body jerks at the sound of metal against metal. I press in tighter, until my thighs touch his, and my hard cock pokes against his stomach.

  “You’re straight?” I ask. His glasses fog with my breath, that’s how close I am.

  He blinks rapidly, as if that will somehow dissipate the steam. “Y-Yeah. Uh, yes, sir.”

  I let my grin grow wider, relish in the nervous tension in his body. A body that’s pressed firmly against mine.

  Dancing my fingers up his chest, over his collarbone, I stop when I reach his neck. I wrap my hand around it, squeeze tight enough to block some blood flow, loose enough that he could push me off if he wanted. Step out of my grip if he dared. Tell me to stop.

  He doesn’t.

  Dominic mutters something like, “Oh, shit,” then closes his eyes.

  I let my other hand trail south, across his stomach, underneath the band of his pants. I wrap my fingers around the velvety, hot flesh of his hard cock, and stroke once. Twice.

  Fuck. He’s harder than the countertop behind him.

  “You sure about that?” I ask as I swipe my thumb across his slit, gather the precum leaking from his head.

  His entire body shudders in a way that begs me to break him in. But his eyes. They’re full of fire. Of anger. Of doubt.

  He hates being manhandled. He also loves it.

  “I asked you a fucking question, Dominic. Are. You. Sure. You’re. Straight?” I squeeze him harder, to the point of pain, with every word.

  He gasps, bucks his hips against mine. The fire behind his dark eyes rages into an inferno, threatening to burn away whatever lies he’s told himself to escape the truth.

  His knuckles are white from gripping the counter behind him when he says, “No, sir. I’m not sure of anything.”

  “If you’re fucking my daughter, you better be sure.”

  His eyes widen, his mouth opening to protest. I squeeze his neck harder, let my fingers dig in, leave red marks. Then I swipe more precum from his head and step back. Away from him. The distance between us necessary before I do something Julie will never forgive me for.

  Already, I’ve crossed that line. No need to burn it.

  Trapping his eyes with mine, I bring my thumb to my lips, flick my tongue out to taste him. Hell. He tastes fucking delicious. Better than any of the subs I’ve had recently. Not that I’m in the habit of tasting them. They typically taste me.

  He moans at the action, then catches himself enjoying something forbidden. I know that look well. Wore it tons when I was younger. When I was in denial.

  “Dad?” Julie calls from the hallway, her voice breaking whatever spell lay between me and her boyfriend.

  I take another step away from Dominic, adjust my dick straining against my running shorts, and pull my shirt down as far as it’ll go. “In here,” I call to her, not once taking my eyes from him. “Dominic’s was just about to make you breakfast,” I add, more as a reminder to him that he was doing something before I interrupted.

  He springs into action. I watch him search for a bowl to crack the eggs into. Let Julie help when she finally comes into the kitchen.

  “Breakfast? I’m not all that hungry.” Julie kisses him on the cheek, and it’s the strangest thing watching him struggle with what to do.

  Does he kiss her back in front of me, because I’m her father, and I just had my hand around his cock? Or does he ignore her, risk pissing me off because that’s my baby girl?

  He settles for giving her an off-kilter smile. Plastic. Fake. Julie doesn’t notice, and this is why fathers are important. We notice everything.

  “I don’t have to make breakfast if you don’t want,” Dominic says.

  “It’s okay, babe. I’ll have my eggs scrambled.” Julie grabs his ass and squeezes. Now I want to.

  Dominic shakes her off, tries to avoid my stare as best he can. Julie takes the bread and some fruit from the fridge.

  “S-Scrambled. Sure.” Dominic’s hands shake when he cracks the shell, spilling the first egg onto the counter. “Shit,” he mutters, but I’m watching his mouth, so in my own way, I hear him.

  “Don’t make a mess in my kitchen. Or else.” I let my voice rumble, really sell the hardass demeanor I use to take control, mostly to give him a harder time than the one going on in his pants.

  Dominic’s eyes meet mine. He nods. “Yes, sir.”

  Fuck. I need to get out of here. Go on my run. Make sure my sub arrives early. Or breakfast isn’t
what Dominic’s going to eat.

  Before I turn and stride from the kitchen, I make sure Dominic watches me place my thumb into my mouth, the one with his precum still there. His flavor bursts across my tongue, and now it’s my turn to stifle a moan.

  “You leaving?” Julie asks, catching me by the arm. “You don’t want breakfast?”

  “Breakfast isn’t what I want.” I lick my lips so Dominic knows I can still taste him, then say, “I’ve already eaten.”

  Chapter 6

  Dominic

  Holy shit.

  Another man just had his hand wrapped around my dick—no. My girlfriend’s dad just had his hand wrapped around my dick. And I fucking liked it.

  The feel of him as he gripped me still has my groin tingling, my cock at full attention. Julie notices, her eyebrow skyrocketing into her hairline.

  “Morning wood,” I say, before excusing myself to the bathroom.

  As soon as the door shuts, my hand is on my dick, pumping hard, imagining Darryl Cole doing so much more than licking up my precum.

  After I finish in the bathroom, and we finish eating breakfast, Julie drags me into her bedroom. Seeing me hard made her think there could be a chance for us to play.

  Problem is, a partial erection is the best I can do for her. It isn’t that she isn’t sexy. She is. I just—the thought of being with her, of being with any woman, doesn’t do it for me like the thought of letting her father take control of me for one night.

  “What’s going on with you?” Julie climbs off my lap, fed up with trying to get me into this. “I can tell something’s up.” She glances at my crotch. “Or, not up.”

  I push off the bed, head to her bathroom to shower.

  “I don’t know,” I call from the bathroom, unable to face her, afraid she’ll see the truth. “We’re in your dad’s house. It’s weird, you know?”

  She joins me in the bathroom, turns on the shower. “It isn’t weird. You’re just being a pussy. Besides, he has his boy toys he plays with. Has one coming over tonight. It’s only fair we get to play, too.”

  Something like acid burns the lining of my veins. A sensation too close to jealousy rears its ugly head. A sensation I have zero right to feel. “Boy toys?”

  Julie tests the water, steps into the shower when it’s warm enough. “I already told you my dad’s gay. Why are you acting surprised?”

  She had told me, when we started dating. I didn’t care then. I only care now because—nope. Not going there.

  “It isn’t that. I’m just surprised to hear about boy toys. That doesn’t bother you?”

  Julie’s arm reaches out from the shower, grabs me, and drags me in with her. “Why should it? My dad’s an adult, healthy, active, into BDSM. He likes his subs compliant and young.” She pinches my cheek. “Kinda like you.”

  Heat rises hot and fast to the surface of my skin. “What do you mean kinda like me?”

  Julie cocks her head to the side, like she’s studying me. “I don’t know. You just, you remind me of someone my dad used to date.”

  “Date?” I ask, because that word and Darryl Cole don’t seem like they belong in the same solar system together.

  Julie’s expression drops. “Yeah. I mean, it was a long time ago, and he hasn’t dated anyone since then.” She soaps up her hair, rinses it. “But you remind me of him, I guess.”

  I probably remind Darryl of him, too.

  I grab the soap, concentrate on lathering up. “Well, it doesn’t matter because I’m not gay.” The words fall from my lips on a chuckle. A nervous chuckle.

  I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t want Julie to know how much I want her dad, or that the words I’m not gay aren’t as true as I want them to be.

  “I know.” She giggles, grabs my dick. I push her off. “Fuck, Dom. Stop being so uptight. My dad’s not even home.”

  She’s right. I am uptight, but not for the reason she thinks.

  She reaches for me again. I step back, as far from her as I can. “Stop, Julie. Okay?”

  Her eyes narrow. Her lips pinch into a thin line. It’s the look she always gets when she’s about to fight. It’s a look I’ve seen a lot lately.

  “You’ve been acting weird since before this trip. Double weird now that we’re here. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Can we just not do this?” I put my hands up between us, a fruitless attempt to thwart the inevitable. “I don’t want to fight. I just want to enjoy today, maybe go to the beach, hang out. No drama.”

  She crosses her arms underneath her tits. The tiny, perky orbs bounce with the motion. That should turn me on. Make me drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness with my mouth between her thighs.

  But I don’t want her. Don’t want to please her. I want her father. Want to see him without a shirt, his pecs jumping from the things I do to him with my mouth.

  “Drama? Is that what you think we are? What you think we have?” She points from me to her, the meaning clear.

  She’s asking if I want to break up.

  I don’t answer fast enough for her liking. She shuts off the shower, throws back the curtain.

  “Wow. Okay, fine.” She snatches a nearby towel off the rack, leaving me nothing to dry off with. “I can’t believe you want to break it off like this.”

  Her voice is full of emotion. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

  All I can do is stand there, naked, and stare at her. Technically, I hadn’t broken up with her. It’s a conclusion she reached all on her own. But I’m not correcting her. Neither of us want to keep dragging this out.

  If I’m being really fucking honest, breaking it off with Julie is the right thing to do, before we get too far down a path we don’t belong on. I don’t love her. Not in the way she deserves, or wants. Hell, I don’t even desire her, which isn’t her fault.

  It isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just a fact.

  “Julie, I—” I stop, because I don’t know what to say. I’m definitely the fuck not telling her I want to break up because I want her father more than her.

  “Save it, Dom.” She wraps the towel around her, throws open the bathroom door. The doorknob bangs against the wall, probably leaving a dent.

  She stalks into her bedroom, to her giant walk-in closet, and drops the towel. She rummages through her clothes, pulling out a few items, shoving some more in an overnight bag.

  When she’s dressed, and I’m still naked, leaning against the door to her bathroom, she finally looks at me.

  “I’m going out with friends, and I’m not coming home tonight.”

  “Don’t you mean Jordan?”

  She flips me off. “What do you fucking care? Oh, yeah. You don’t. Why don’t you use your drama-free time to pack up your shit. I’ll take you to the train station tomorrow.”

  I don’t say anything as she throws a few more items into her bag. Before she leaves, she turns to me and chuckles, her eyes dry. Maybe even a bit brighter than I’ve seen them in a long time.

  They aren’t that way because of me. She’s going to see Jordan without the encumbrance of our relationship weighing her down.

  “You know, I thought this would hurt more,” she says. “It doesn’t. It actually feels liberating.”

  Her eyes give me a once-over from head to toe, before settling back on my face.

  “Goodbye, Dom. I’ll text you tomorrow when I’m ready to take you to the train station.”

  Without another word, Julie turns her back and stalks down the hall. I hear the front door close, her car pull from the drive.

  I wait for the crushing sense of loss to follow. For the suffocating disappointment of another failed relationship. The inevitable questioning of why I keep doing this to myself. To the women I date.

  That doesn’t happen.

  Julie was right. It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel liberated like she claims to, because I’m not sure I know what I want. Who I am. But at least it doesn’t hurt. Breaking it off was the right thing to do.

  Leaving
is also the right thing to do. For my sake. For hers. Before I bang on her father’s door, beg him to take me in as one of his boy toys.

  Chapter 7

  Dominic

  When Darryl arrives back to the house a few hours later, he doesn’t say anything to me. Doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. I have to imagine that’s because Julie told him we broke up.

  Great. As if being alone with him isn’t awkward enough.

  Deciding to enjoy my final day in San Diego, I put on my swim trunks and head to the beach. It’s crowded, which is to be expected for weather this perfect, and scenery this gorgeous. I find a spot relatively close to the water, and even join an impromptu volleyball game.

  After watching the sun set, I make my way back to the house, try to sneak in quietly. All I have to do is get through tonight, then I’m on my way back to campus, away from the temptation of my ex-girlfriend’s father.

  I can go back to living in denial, graduate, and move on with my life.

  Darryl’s door is closed when I walk by, thank God. I duck into my room, grab some clothes, then head to the bathroom down the hall to shower.

  Taking my time, I wash the sand from my body and hair. Then I throw on my sleep pants, not bothering to put on a shirt because it’s too hot. Instead of combing it, I run my fingers through my still-damp hair. I don’t bother styling it. What’s the point? Julie’s out with friends. She no longer gives a shit what I look like. And Darryl’s avoiding me. No one to impress.

  Throwing my towel over my shoulder, I pad down the hall to my bedroom. Darryl’s door is cracked. I pause, wait for him to jump out, beat me to a pulp for hurting his little girl.

  That isn’t what happens.

  A moan slithers its way through the crack in the door, followed by two words I know well. “Yes, sir.”

  Shit. I’d forgotten. Darryl’s boy toy is here.

  I force my body to keep walking, to head for my bedroom, to ignore what’s happening to the sub in what I imagine are Darryl’s more than capable hands.

  Turns out, my body is shit at following directions.

  My fingers wrap around the doorknob and pull until the tiny crack opens wide enough that I can see inside. My breath catches in my throat. My heart thuds wildly against my ribcage when my eyes land on Darryl and the man on his knees in front of him, working his cock with his mouth.