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

by Charlotte Storm

  “Dominic, stop.”

  He does, but he still doesn’t look at me. I think I might know why.

  Fuck, this isn’t going how I thought it would. Nothing about this has.

  “You’re not taking time off, transferring, or doing anything else. You’re a year from graduating. You’ll leave when you originally planned to, finish school, and move on with your life. That’s how this will go.”

  He flinches like I just punched him. “Is that what you want?” he asks, though it’s difficult to understand him with his teeth ground together. “You want me to leave?”

  No. It isn’t what I fucking want. And it’s exactly what I fucking want.

  “Yes.”

  Dominic’s eyes widen.

  “Right now, and in two weeks when you go back to school.”

  Those words are a damn lie, which makes them hard to say. I have to say them. Need to create distance between us, destroy whatever closeness our date-day created.

  He still doesn’t look at me when he says, “Why would I leave right now? Do you not want me here? Have I done something to piss you off?” His voice breaks, and his dark eyes are rimmed in red.

  I grab his hand. He backs away, out of my grasp. “Julie and Jordan are coming over today to have a barbeque.”

  His eyes cut to me for the first time since his confession. Tears spill down his cheeks. He doesn’t move to wipe them away. Instead, the lines of his face morph from sadness to anger.

  Good. Anger I can deal with.

  “And what?” he says. “I’m the ex-boyfriend, just another sub, so I have to go?”

  I cross my arms, nod my head. It’s a dick thing to do, but this had to happen sooner or later. Sooner is better.

  “When were you going to fucking tell me?” he practically shouts. “Or is this all part of the game? The training?”

  I step into him, crowd his body with my own. Fuck, I want so bad to just kiss him. Tell him I’m fucking terrified. That I don’t know what to do about how I’m starting to feel. That whatever we have won’t work. It never can. Doesn’t matter that I want it to.

  The tone I take with him is harsh. Maybe even cruel. It’s the only way I know of to hide everything else.

  “You’ll do what I say, when I say to do it, or you can leave now. Pack your shit, and not ever come back.” I extend my arm, point toward the house.

  The muscles in Dominic’s chest flex and harden, like he’s trying not to punch me. A hit is something I deserve. Something I know how to survive.

  Fire rages behind his eyes when he answers with two words I never want to hear from him again. Two words that takes everything between us and shatters it into irreparable shards.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Something inside me breaks, water finally cresting a cracked, worn-down dam. I’ve been lying to myself, telling myself that I can survive on sexual control alone. Granted, being dominant is a huge part of who I am, and is something that makes those parts of me feel satisfied and whole. But it isn’t everything.

  It isn’t anything compared to what I had before, with Mason. To what I can have now, with Dominic. If I just let it happen.

  Dominic brushes past me. I reach for his wrist, try to make him stay. To tell him...fuck, I don’t know what. I just know I should say something.

  “Don’t.” Dominic shrugs off my attempt, heads toward the house. “I’ll come back later tonight, pack my stuff. Thank you for your hospitality. It’s clear I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

  “Dominic.”

  He rounds on me, tears wetting his cheeks. “You don’t have to say another fucking word. I got the message. You don’t want me here. You don’t want me.”

  Without another word, or a chance to explain that I want him more than I’ve wanted anyone in a decade, Dominic walks into the house, slams the sliding glass door closed.

  A few minutes later, I hear the rumble of the Audi’s engine. I panic at the sound of the tires as he peels out of the driveway.

  Son of a bitch grabbed my keys, took the car without my permission, not that I would’ve denied him. What I wouldn’t have let him do is leave angry at me.

  The scene of Mason doing the same damn thing plays over and over again, like a scary movie I can’t stop watching. I need to find Dominic, make this right, before history repeats itself.

  Chapter 23

  Dominic

  The keyring I grabbed off the kitchen counter digs into my palm as I head into the garage to get the Audi.

  Fuck Darryl. Fuck his rules, and his dictatorship, and his cold, cruel nature. If he wants me gone, fine. But I’m not taking the bus, or waiting for a Lyft. The least he can fucking do is loan me his car for the day.

  I’m tempted not to ever come back. That would mean leaving my stuff, and committing more grand theft auto than I intended. Are there levels of grand theft?

  Doesn’t matter. I want out of here, don’t want to spend another minute in this house. If Julie and Jordan will be here soon, I should go.

  It isn’t that seeing her with him bothers me. It’s more that I don’t want her to know I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with her father. Don’t want her to see how devastated I am he doesn’t feel the same way.

  Stupid Dominic. Of course Darryl doesn’t love me. He can’t love. I saw how he treated Owen. Used his ass then kicked him to the curb when I came along. A nice, fresh, virgin piece of ass he could claim, use up, and kick to the curb.

  Serves me right. I did it to him. To myself. Karma, and all that shit.

  It’s just, I thought Darryl felt differently about me. The way he stood up for me with Owen. Called me his boyfriend. After he’d taken my virginity, how gentle he was with me the second time. His kisses, his touch, his body all told me he felt the same. Or, if not the same, then close.

  Guess I was wrong. He had no problem in the light of day treating me like any other sub. I don’t want to be just another sub. I want to be special. To have my first time mean something to the man who took it.

  I’m too angry when I pull out of the drive, too shredded with emotion to drive safely. That, and this isn’t my car. I’ve never driven it before. It’ll take some getting used to.

  After I get a few blocks away, I pull over and let it all out. I cry. Scream. Hit the steering wheel. Pound my fist into my thigh. Anything to feel something other than the all-consuming pain of heartbreak.

  It doesn’t work completely, but it works a little. Enough where I feel I can breathe again without drowning.

  I glance up at the clear blue sky, the beauty of San Diego weather mocking the dark cloud within. It’s fine. I have all day to myself, and if I can’t shine from within, then I’ll absorb some external sunlight instead.

  Plus, I have no idea how long I’ll have the car. If Darryl doesn’t call the cops on me for taking it, then surely he can track it using GPS. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just have to go somewhere reception isn’t great. Somewhere I can clear my head. Turn off my phone. Get lost for the day.

  After I wipe my tears away, I compose a text to Darryl. Let him know I have the car, that I’ll be back later. If he wants to call the cops, then fuck him. I don’t wait for a response. With my phone off, I pull onto the road, do my best not to hit any pedestrians or parked cars. The gas pedal on this thing is touchy.

  I head east toward Alpine. Still in San Diego County, it’s far enough out that there are way less people. More nature. No cell phone service.

  A hike sounds great right now. It’ll help me clear my head. Get some fresh air. A new perspective. Plus, if the cops do find me, and arrest me, then at least the scenery will be stellar.

  Not that I think Darryl will have me arrested. Actually, I’m not sure what he’s capable of. It’s clear I don’t know him at all. Now, I never will.

  An hour—and a convenience store stop for water bottles and snacks—later, I arrive at the Viejas Mountain Trailhead. On a gorgeous day like today, there are plenty of other hikers. And dogs. Not enough that I feel uncomfo
rtable, though, which is good. I need to do this, need to find some peace where I can get my mind off Darryl. Off how he made me feel like I could be his. Not just his sub. His man.

  In no rush, I take my time exploring the trail. When I reach the peak of the mountain, I take out the few snacks I’d bought, sit, and enjoy the view.

  Eventually, the sun starts to set, and I realize that maybe it’s what I’ve been sitting here all this time waiting for. For the sun to set. To enjoy the beauty of something that’s ending.

  I’m not the kind of guy who cries at sunsets. This time, I do.

  It’s dark when I make the hike back toward the car, which makes it take three times longer than usual. Plus, snakes. Sure, I’m wearing my tennis shoes. But if one decides to bite above the ankle, I’m kinda screwed.

  Thankfully, about a third of the way back to the car, I join up with a few other hikers with headlamps. They generously agree to let me walk with them, even give me an extra light they have for emergencies.

  Seems appropriate. Everything about my life feels like an emergency.

  I’m tired as hell by the time I reach the car. And hungry, the breakfast Darryl made long since burned off.

  He made me breakfast. Then told me to get out. If I wanted to think about it, I’m sure I could discern his motivations. Doesn’t matter what they are, really. Outcome is the same.

  It’s time to get back, face the music regarding the car, pack up my shit, and move on with my life. Not that I know what the hell my life’s supposed to look like anymore.

  No. Fuck that. I do know what my life’s supposed to look like. It’s supposed to have Darryl in it.

  I’ve rolled over and played sub long enough. If I want this, then I have to fight for it. Fight him if I have to. Anything to get it through his thick skull that I love him. That I want him. That he can’t get rid of me that easily.

  After starting the car, I turn on my phone. There isn’t service, yet. I want to know when there will be. Want to call Darryl to tell him I’m coming home.

  The drive back takes forever. My eyelids droop more than a few times. Twice, I’ve called Darryl, each time the call going straight to voicemail. Either his phone’s off because he’s ignoring me, or it ran out of juice waiting for me to call him back.

  I’m going with the second thought.

  I scrub a hand over my face, crack the window, turn up the radio, and take a drink of water from one of the bottles I’d bought earlier. All in an attempt to stay awake. I’m in the middle of a swig when something darts across the roadway. A dog, maybe? Or coyote.

  The water bottle slips from my grip as I bring both hands to the steering wheel. The cool liquid spills all over my shirt and shorts, making me gasp. At the same time, I swerve to avoid the animal. I’m not used to the handling on this car. It’s touchy, like the gas pedal.

  Okay, time for the brakes. Shit. No. That’s the fucking gas.

  I correct the wheel again. This time, the car swerves into oncoming traffic. I cut the wheel hard, slam on the brakes with both feet.

  They’re jammed. In the split second before I hit a tree, I realize why. The water bottle I dropped is stuck underneath the brake pedal.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  I hit the tree going...I don’t know how fast. Time slows, just like it does in the movies. Unlike the movies, I don’t have a stunt man. Something tells me I won’t walk away from this. I might not even survive it.

  Darryl. I left mad. Didn’t get the chance to tell him that I love him. Didn’t fight the control I let him have over me.

  If, by some miracle, I survive, I swear to God I’ll do things differently.

  That’s the last thought I have before impact.

  Chapter 24

  Darryl

  I resist the urge to throw my phone into the pool.

  Calling Dominic leads straight to voicemail, yet again. Though, what did I expect? For him to sit by his phone like a neglected puppy dog? Wait for me to call him back to abuse him some more?

  “Dominic, it’s me. Call me back. Julie’s been gone for a few hours. I haven’t heard from you. I’m not mad about the car, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Call me back, even if you’re pissed. Still, fucking call me back.”

  I consider telling him that’s an order. I’m not his drill sergeant. After the way I treated him this morning, I’m not his anything.

  Fine. Whatever. He wants to play this game, I’ll fucking play it.

  I head to my computer in my home office, fire it up and click on the program that lets me locate my car. That’s when my phone rings.

  For a moment, I think my heart might break free from my chest, run a lap around the room for good measure. Finally, Dominic found the sense to call me.

  I glare at the screen. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I almost don’t answer it, but do. What if it’s Dominic, out at a bar somewhere, on a stranger’s phone because his died. Or worse...

  My mouth goes dry when I answer the phone. “This is Darryl Cole. Who’s this?”

  “Mr. Cole, this is Sergeant Roxas with the San Diego Police Department.”

  My heart no longer wants to beat out of my chest. I’m pretty sure it stopped altogether.

  “Sir, we found your car wrapped around a tree. A young man by the name of Dominic Castro was behind the wheel. Do you know this man?”

  “Yeah, I know him. Is he all right? Is he okay?” I practically shout into the phone, surprised I can even fucking talk.

  “He was taken to the hospital in critical condition. I’m not sure what his current status is.”

  I gulp in air, try to force my body to stay focused. What I really want to do is let the black at the edge of my vision take me. Then, when I wake, it’ll be from the nightmare that can’t be real. Can’t be true.

  I can’t lose Dominic. Not to a car crash. Not in the same way I lost Mason.

  “Tell me where.”

  He gives me the name of the hospital, then says something about me coming to claim the car. That I should call my insurance company. I hang up on Sergeant Roxas without so much as a thank you. I don’t have time for the other shit. Dominic is what’s important. Making sure he’s okay, that he’s alive, is all I can focus on.

  I don’t let the memories of Mason, of all the shit that came afterward, cloud my mind. I can’t afford to get lost in that haze. If Dominic’s alive, he’ll need me.

  Thankfully, the Audi isn’t my only car. I hop into my Volvo SUV, and somehow manage to drive to the hospital without killing anyone, or myself, along the way.

  When I reach the hospital, I park in front, in the fire lane. Fuck it. They can tow me. I’ll deal with that shit later. I need to see Dominic. Make sure he’s okay. He better be okay.

  Three people are in line at the receptionist desk. I push past them, give Dominic’s name to the guy behind the desk. I don’t have to say this is an emergency. Probably, the look on my face tells them everything they need to know.

  When he says he doesn’t have a room number for him, I almost lose my shit. Dead people don’t need room numbers. It isn’t until he tells me he’s in surgery that I remember to breathe.

  I head to the recovery floor, give my name at the nurse’s station so they know someone is waiting for Dominic when he comes out of surgery. They ask me if I’m family. I tell them I’m his uncle.

  Then I pace. Bite my nails. Blame myself for what happened.

  Dominic would’ve never crashed if I hadn’t pushed him away. He left mad, not that I gave him another choice. I’d made him feel like our day together meant nothing. That me taking his virginity meant nothing.

  If he hates me, I don’t blame him. Right now, I hate me. If I don’t get a chance to fix this—

  No. I’ll get the chance. I have to. I refuse to accept any other option.

  After an hour of impatient pacing, and incessant checking in with the nurse’s station on the status of Dominic’s surgery—still no update—I decide to take care of the business side of thin
gs. I need a distraction, anyway.

  I call Julie first, let her know where I am, and give her what little information I have about what happened. When she tells me her and Jordan are on their way, I tell her not to worry about it. The next call is to my insurance agent. Might as well get the ball rolling on that. Then the impound where they have the Audi.

  Finally, I call the tow company the hospital called about my illegally parked vehicle. Sure enough, they have it. I tell them to hold it until tomorrow. I’ll come and get it then. Yes, I’m aware fees accrue by the hour. No, I don’t give a shit.

  After that, it’s hurry up and wait. I glare at the television, not really watching whatever mindless game show they have on. All my eyes see is the way Dominic looked last night when I took his virginity. All I hear is the way he called my name when he came for me. How he snuggled in close. The soft sounds of his breath when he fell asleep in my arms.

  Sex with Dominic was better than amazing. But it isn’t the only thing that makes me crave him. It’s the way his eyes hold mine. The way they tell me he’s in deep, reassure me the way I feel about him is mutual.

  I took that light from him. Dimmed it. Faded it. Darkened it into something hideous and painful. Something to match my internal landscape.

  “Dad?”

  I open my eyes—when the hell had I fallen asleep?—and stretch out my neck. Sleeping in hospital waiting room chairs is what keeps chiropractors in business.

  After pushing to my feet, I scrub a hand over my face, then take Julie into my arms.

  “Is Dom okay?” she asks, her voice strained and tight with unshed tears. “Have you heard anything?”

  “Not yet,” I answer.

  “Do we know what his injuries are? How bad it is?”

  I shake my head to dislodge the pictures of my totalled car. The Sergeant had sent them to me shortly after we got off the phone. After looking at them, I have no idea how Dominic survived at all.