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

by Charlotte Storm

  I’ve sucked his cock before. He knows how good I am. There’s no way he doesn’t want more. Since I’m technically not his dom today, I can go down on him without any repercussions to our dynamic.

  Damn, have I wanted to go down on him again. Taste him. Listen to the noises he makes when I pleasure him.

  “Wait. Wait.” Dominic’s grip on my hand tightens, and he actually pulls it away. He bangs the back of his head against the wall a few times before saying, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I don’t want you to...”

  His face flushes pink. It’s the cutest damn thing. Or, it would be, if I weren’t so confused.

  “I don’t know.” He bites his lip, clears his throat. “Let’s not finish this, whatever this is, now.”

  I cock my head to the side, certain I didn’t hear him right.

  “I mean, we can later.” He squirms against me, which drives me fucking crazy. To want him, and know I can’t command him, sets me on fire. I’m not sure which type of fire it is.

  “Pr-Probably,” he adds, then glances at my mouth. “Definitely, later. It’s just...you said you made dinner reservations. I-I don’t want to be late.”

  Dinner? Is he fucking serious?

  I open my mouth to—fuck, I don’t know. I quickly close it when I notice the look on his face. His full, soft lips tilt down. The space between his eyebrows forms a deep V. His eyes silently plead with me to see just how important this is to him.

  This. Going on a date. Equal footing. Getting to know me. Why the hell had I agreed?

  As if the universe needs to make its shitty point, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  Chapter 18

  Dominic

  I slide down the wall when Darryl releases me, cringe when he takes his phone from his pocket and throws it across the room.

  He’s pissed. That much is crystal clear. What isn’t clear is why. Going on this date was part of our agreement. Is it because he hates not being in control?

  Stepping back, Darryl scrubs a hand over his face, runs his fingers through his short hair. “I’m sorry,” we both say at the same time.

  “No, don’t apologize,” he cuts in before I have a chance. He gestures to where he threw his phone. “I’m not angry with you.”

  “Why are you angry?” I dare to ask around the lump in my throat, the thundering of my heart in my ears.

  He mutters something that sounds like the words, “Fucking subs.” He shakes his head. “If you honor our arrangement, you never have to find out.” Darryl glances at his watch. “Speaking of honoring arrangements, we should go.”

  I want to ask him what he means, push him to open up, tell me what this is really about. But the look on his face, the tone in his voice, tells me not to bother. Instead, I run my fingers through my hair and straighten out my wrinkled clothes.

  Darryl retrieves his phone, which thankfully isn’t broken, and ushers me out of the room. I want to hold his hand when we walk to the garage, and in the car on the drive to the restaurant. I don’t. Darryl feels miles away. Not miles away. Years. I’m not so sure I’m the one that should drag him back to the present.

  Maybe going on a date with me is too painful, too much of a reminder of the lover he lost. That thought turns my stomach as we pull up to the restaurant, when Darryl comes to my side to open my door.

  I stare up at him from the passenger seat. “Look, we don’t have to do this.” I glance at the Italian restaurant, a quaint place on the outskirts of Hillcrest, north of downtown San Diego. Patio seating. Eclectic vibe. Rainbow flags flying proudly outside.

  The place is packed, and it brings a sad smile to my face to see most of the patrons are gay couples. This is somewhere I could feel comfortable being seen with him, comfortable exploring this new part of my sexuality I’ve denied too long. Somewhere I’d be accepted.

  Darryl purses his lips, his confused gaze flicking from me to the restaurant. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this, wanted to eat out.” He drops his tone, puts his arm on the roof of the car, and leans in. “More than me eating you out.”

  I don’t bother trying to suppress the shiver of desire that tracks down my spine when I think about what I turned down. He would’ve gone down on me. Sucked my cock. Probably eaten my ass. I want that. Want it bad.

  I want our date, too. Or, wanted it. Now? I’m not so sure it was a good idea.

  I lick my lips. “I don’t want to force you to do something you clearly aren’t comfortable with. We can go back to your house. It’s fine.”

  Darryl’s heated gaze burns off all the moisture on my lips. “It isn’t fine,” he says. He drops to one knee with a heavy sigh, so now he’s at eye-level. “I’ve been an asshole.”

  He has. “If this is too hard because of Mas—because of your past, I’d understand.”

  A shadow passes over Darryl’s face before he scrubs a hand over it. He holds it there for a few agonizing moments, obscuring the features of his face so I can’t tell if he’s pissed, or hurt...or pissed.

  “I want to be here,” he finally says.

  My shoulders slump, and I give the muscles in my jaw a break. “Okay,” is the only word my mouth can produce when Darryl holds out his hand for me to take.

  When I do, all of the heat, desire, and base primal need I thought we’d extinguished earlier comes raging back. I was an idiot to think I could tame whatever force is between us.

  Darryl pulls me from the car, to my feet, and into his body, every part of my front against every part of his. “So you know,” he says, his voice barely a growl. “I have no idea how we’re going to make it through tonight with your virginity intact, but I told you that you could choose.” His hand travels to my ass. He squeezes hard enough to leave a mark. “Remind me of that when things get out of control.”

  I can’t even speak, let alone remind him of shit right now. Then he kisses me, and I’m ready to bend over the hood of his car, drop my jeans, and let him take me in the parking lot.

  A wolf whistle breaks our moment, cold-shower style. I might be into a lot of things, but exhibitionism isn’t one of them.

  Darryl pulls back, runs his thumb along my jaw. I’m still dizzy from the kiss, haven’t yet caught my breath. “Let’s get inside,” he says. “Get some food in us.”

  “Food. Yeah. Right.”

  Darryl takes my hand, his fingers firmly intertwined with mine when we step up to the host station. He’s so tall, and broad, and sexy that I can’t get mad at all the men who stare as we enter. I’d stare, too. Hell, I am staring. But he only sees me, doesn’t give anyone else the time of day. That makes me warm all over in a far more subtle, yet just as destructive way as when he kissed me.

  We’re seated almost immediately next to a window so we can people watch as we eat. Darryl pulls out my chair, pushes it in when I sit. I can’t help the flush that creeps up my neck at the gesture. At the reminder that, though he may be hard in most areas of his life, he can also be soft and kind.

  “Get whatever you want,” Darryl says when the waiter hands us our menus. “I mean it, Dominic. Dinner is on me.”

  I’m about to open my mouth to thank him when a handsome man in an expensive designer shirt stalks over to our table. “Darryl fucking Cole.” The man’s smile lights up his whole face, which only makes him more handsome, and me more jealous.

  Darryl’s grin matches his when he stands. With everyone watching, the two men hug each other, making zero bones about showing their affection. They’re friends, clearly. But are they past lovers? Was this man one of Darryl’s subs?

  My stomach plummets to my feet. I’m no longer hungry.

  “Harris. It’s been too long.” Darryl’s voice is slightly muffled because his mouth is currently pressed against his friend’s shoulder.

  “Damn right it has. Always sending one of your boy-toys in to pick up your food, too stuck-up to come and get it yourself.” The man named Harris pouts. “Makes a guy think you might be avoiding him.”

  D
arryl pats Harris on the back before stepping away. He turns toward me, and I do my best to wipe the look off my face. I don’t want Darryl to know how hooked on him I am. He’s made it clear that I’m just a sub. He’s set boundaries on our relationship so that he can keep his distance.

  Going on this date, claiming every Friday as ours, was my idea so I could get close, push what we have beyond the sub-dom relationship. Beyond the point where I go back to school, and we go our separate ways.

  I’m an idiot if I think Darryl wants anything different than he’s always wanted. If I think I’m different than any other sub.

  Harris follows Darryl’s line of sight to me. His brown eyes widen, and his grin takes salacious to the next level. “Holy hot hell. What do we have here?” Harris says, his eyes absorbing me like I’m the Jack to his Coke. “You’ve been holding out on me, Darryl.”

  Harris steps toward me, pulls on a lock of my hair. I don’t move, can’t breathe. “You’re being selfish, keeping this one to yourself. Since when did you start bringing your subs to dinner, instead of making them come fetch it?”

  My shoulders tense to my ears at the word sub. My teeth grind so hard that they slip. I bite my tongue. The coppery tang of blood invades my mouth, but I swallow it down, turn up the same fake charm I’ve used to land plenty of pussy. I don’t want Harris touching me, but I don’t want to offend Darryl’s friend, or make a scene.

  When Darryl glances my way, our eyes meet. I have zero idea what he sees in them. Whatever it is makes him angry. At first, I think it’s at me. But when he uses his stern alpha voice, it’s directed at Harris.

  “Dominic isn’t my sub. He’s my date. You’ll show him the same respect you show me.” In one fluid motion, Darryl removes Harris’s hand from my hair, and uses that same hand to push his friend back a step. Darryl quickly fills the gap with his massive body, as if he’s protecting me.

  Harris’s eyes go wide, and he holds up his hands. “Okay. Message received. Chill. There’s no way I could’ve known. The Darryl I know doesn’t date.”

  The tension in Darryl’s body knocks back a few levels when Harris tries to laugh off his reaction. Eventually, Darryl steps to my side, places his massive hand on my shoulder in a gesture not of ownership, but in a way that clearly states I’m his.

  Harris extends his hand my direction. Tentatively, I take it. “Let’s try this again.” When he smiles this time, it’s far less creepy, more warm. “Hello, Dominic Not The Sub, I’m Harris Hale.” He flicks his chin Darryl’s direction. “Long-time friend of this beast over here, and owner of this fine establishment.”

  I shake once, then drop his hand. “Nice to meet you.” I glance around the restaurant, avoiding eye-contact with any of the other diners. “Great place you have.”

  He shrugs, as if my compliment is no big deal. “I do all right.”

  The waiter comes back to take our drink order, and Darryl takes his seat.

  “That’s my cue,” Harris says when someone calls his name from over by the bar. “Whatever they want is on the house,” he says to the waiter, then turns to me and says, “Nice to meet you, Dominic. Anyone who can drag Darryl Cole out on a date is an instant friend of mine. Enjoy the food, and don’t be a stranger.” He gives me a wink.

  When he turns to Darryl, he blows him a kiss, and says, “Don’t think you can just bring your new man to my restaurant and not give me all the juicy deets. I’ll expect a call tomorrow.”

  Harris gives me one last eye-fuck before flitting across the restaurant to his friend at the bar. The waiter asks if we’re ready to order. Darryl sends him away, tells him to come back in a few minutes.

  “Sorry about him.” Darryl takes his seat across from me when the waiter leaves. “Harris is a good friend, doesn’t mean any harm.”

  I shrug and smooth the napkin across my lap an excessive number of times. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Don’t do that.” The growl in Darryl’s tone makes me glance up from my lap. “It was a big deal. He touched you in a way you didn’t like.”

  “And you came to my rescue.”

  Now it’s his turn to pay way more attention to his napkin than necessary. “You’re mine,” he mutters. “I don’t let anyone touch what’s mine.”

  Maybe it’s wrong to want him to claim me like he does. Wrong to wonder if this is how women sometimes feel—wanting a man to own her in a way that protects her but doesn’t steal her identity. I don’t care about wrong. Being with Darryl makes me feel special, makes me want to submit to him in all the ways, because I know, with him, I’ll be safe.

  But then I think about Mason, about everything Darryl already lost once, and wonder if Darryl can ever truly offer me the safety I crave.

  “Everything okay?” Darryl’s question breaks me free from my thoughts.

  No. Everything is definitely not okay. I’m falling for a man who can’t possibly care for me like I care for him. Someone who has had a string of subs before me, and will probably have a string after I’m gone.

  That’s the thing. I will be gone. With Darryl, it’s an inevitable fact.

  “Excuse me.” I stand, toss my napkin into the chair, glance around by the bar to search for the bathroom. When I spot the sign, I don’t even look at Darryl when I say, “I’ll be right back.”

  If he calls my name, I don’t hear him. I’m too focused, moving too fast. Falling too hard.

  Chapter 19

  Dominic

  I can’t open the door to the men’s room fast enough.

  When I get inside, I lock the door. Thank fuck it’s a single occupant restroom. I don’t need anyone to witness my current meltdown.

  Leaning against the wall, I beg my lungs to slow down. To catch a full breath. They can’t, because my heart is currently sprinting around my chest top speed. It races almost as fast as my mind.

  I don’t know how long I lean there, let the wall hold me up while everything else falls apart. Or count how many times I bang my head against the wall to try and stop the commentary running live-auction style across my brain.

  A knock sounds at the door, rousing me from my pity party. “Uh, yeah. Be out in a minute,” I say in the direction of the door, before making my way over to the sink.

  The cool water feels damn good against my heated flesh. My eyes sting from crying—I hadn’t even realized I was. Only now is my breathing back to normal, along with my heart rate.

  “It’s okay, you can do this. Get out there, enjoy your date, and don’t expect too much,” I tell the man in the mirror, who doesn’t look like a man at all. He looks like a boy playing a man’s game.

  I’m still as confused now as when I realized that boys were supposed to like girls. Not other boys. A story I’d been willing to go along with, until the moment I met my girlfriend’s dad.

  A knock sounds again, this time louder. If knocks could sound annoyed, this one does.

  “Yeah, okay,” I answer, grab a paper towel, wipe my face, and unlock the door.

  “You must be him,” says a voice I recognize, though it takes me a moment to realize from where. When I do, a torrent of emotions flood my already battered heart.

  This man is the sub Darryl had before me. The one I watched him fuck through the slit in his door. The one who showed me what it really was I needed from Darryl. What I didn’t even know I wanted.

  I should’ve stayed locked in the bathroom. No. I should’ve never demanded Darryl take me out on a date.

  His finger pokes my chest, shoves me back inside the small private restroom. “You think you’re fucking special?” Darryl’s former sub shrieks. Damn, what was his name? “You aren’t.”

  He shoves me. The back of my head hits the opposite wall. All the air leaves my lungs on impact. Dude advances, as if he’s going to hit me.

  I’m not afraid of a fight. Got into a few in high school. Keep myself fit. But everything about this situation has me caught off guard.

  “He’s just going to fuck you, use your hole, and throw you a
way like the piece of trash you are. Then he’ll see.” His eyes go wide, glaze over as he looks past me. Through me. “He has to know he made a mistake.”

  Finally, finally, I get my wits, shake off the effects of this asshole, hit below the belt in a way I know is out of bounds. “No. You’re the trash. Getting rid of you wasn’t a mistake. It was my idea. You’re gone because of me.”

  Dude takes a swing, but I see it coming a mile away. I dodge, use his momentum to switch places with him so that now I’m the one close to the door. He stumbles, crashes into the wall. I don’t stick around to make sure he’s okay.

  Rounding the corner of the bar, I don’t look where I’m going. I’m still glancing behind me. “Umpf.” I hit something solid, warm, and yet soft.

  “Woah, Dominic,” Harris says, hands on my shoulders. “Everything okay?”

  No, everything isn’t fucking okay, but I don’t have time to tell him that. Darryl’s ex-sub storms around the corner. Harris glances his direction, then his eyes find mine again. Whether it’s pity or...fuck, I don’t know what, I never get to find out.

  “Man-stealing whore!” His voice silences the din of the restaurant. Every eye lands on us. “You think you can get away with this?”

  Asshole doesn’t stop with name calling. No, he wants to get physical. But with Harris still holding onto my shoulders, I can’t block the punch on a trajectory for my nose.

  I close my eyes, wait for the blow to land, for the blinding pain I know will follow. When that doesn’t happen, I open my eyes to figure out why. Darryl’s hand is wrapped around his ex’s fist, paused midair halfway to my face.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Owen?” Darryl’s alpha voice dominates the air surrounding us.

  Complete silence follows his demanding question. Not one fucking person in the restaurant moves. Breathes. Darryl’s anger and presence like a heavy blanket holding us in place.

  Owen drops his head, his gaze cutting to the floor. “I’m sorry to displease you, sir.”

  Darryl pushes Owen’s fist back, steps between me and his ex. “Don’t sir me. I’m not your dom. I’m not your anything. We’re through. I made that perfectly fucking clear. A hint you’ve refused to take.”