I wrinkle my nose. “It’s weird; I don’t know if I like it,” I confess, shooting an apologetic look at Kane. “Sorry.”
He grins at me. “I understand,” he assures me. “Mr. Russell pays me whether you feel awkward about it or not, so it’s all good.”
When we get out of the car at the house, Em gets excited all over again. “Holy sss-shit. Your Daddy is a lll-legit sugar Daddy.”
“Uh, I don’t think he’s a sugar Daddy if I don’t care about the money?” I say uncertainly. Honestly, I wouldn’t exactly know, but sugar daddy sounds like I’m a gold digger.
Em shrugs. Inside, I give him the full tour, and, no surprise, he’s as excited about the library as I was the first day.
“Look at all these b-b-books,” he says, lovingly dragging his finger along a row of spines, his eyes sparkling as he pulls one off the shelf and takes it over to Barrett’s favorite chair. I follow him, plopping down in the other one and pulling my legs up. “I a-a-always loved to read. My childhood was...well, i-it doesn’t matter, but b-b-books were my escape.”
I nod in agreement. “Me too. I couldn’t get my hands on too many though, and then I sorta fell behind with learning to read and felt stupid when I was a teenager reading kid’s books,” I confess.
“W-why couldn’t you get books?” he asks, setting down the one he’s holding and bringing his legs up too, making himself comfortable in his chair.
A warm feeling fills my chest again. We’re just two friends talking about our childhoods like people do. I try not to smile too big, just in case he thinks I’m weird and changes his mind about the whole friend thing.
“We didn’t have no money,” I answer, deciding not to give too many details about my mama’s troubles.
“No local lll-library?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“My town was too small. There was one a few towns over, but I didn’t have no way to get there.”
“That’s so s-sad. There should b-be a way to get books to kids; it’s like a human right or something.”
I chuckle. “I wish,” I agree. “Like, if the library could come to you, bringin’ books right to your doorstep.”
He hums in agreement, nodding for a second before whipping his head up and looking at me like he just had the idea of a lifetime. “Mobile libraries,” he says.
“Mobile libraries?” I repeat. “Like, in a car?”
“Or a b-b-bus,” he explains.
“Oh my lord, like an ice cream truck but full of books?” I gasp, absolutely in love with the idea as soon as I understand it.
“Exactly.”
“Dang, wouldn’t that be somethin’?” I muse, imagining how different my childhood woulda been if I’d had books coming right to my door like that.
“W-we should do it.” Em laughs even as he says it.
I snort and shake my head. “Right, I’ll just pull a buncha money outta my butt…” I trail off, the realization hitting me that I may not be able to spend money like it’s nothing, but Barrett certainly can. More than that, his whole life is about investing in worthy causes. Would he think this is worthy enough?
“Y-you look lll-like you just had an idea.”
“I may have.” We share a grin.
As promised, we order a pizza after that and eat it on the expensive, white couch in the living room while watching Day of the Dead and laughing through it.
When Barrett gets home, he comes into the living room with a big smile on his face and gives me a kiss. I introduce him to Em, and after they chat for a few minutes, he goes upstairs to shower, leaving the two of us to finish our zombie movie binge.
When I walk Em to the front door a little while later, my heart feels so light and full. It always seemed like it would be amazing to have a friend, but this was even better than I imagined. He surprises me by throwing his arms around me and hugging me tight when we reach the door.
“I’m g-g-glad we met, Sterling. I really like you,” he says, as earnest as can be. My face gets hot and my throat tightens, and I squeeze him a little tighter.
“I like you too, Em. I’m glad we’re friends.”
The way he’s smiling when I let him go, makes me think that maybe I ain’t the only one who was desperately needing a friend.
I watch as he trots down the outside steps and gets into the car Kane has waiting for him. Once it pulls outta the driveway, I head upstairs to find Barrett reading in bed. A warm feeling fills me up from head to toe and I strip down before grabbing one of his t-shirts from the dresser and putting it on. I crawl onto the bed and put my head on Daddy’s thigh, his fingers finding their way into my hair and his strong, mellow voice washing over me as he starts to read.
Is this what love feels like?
Chapter 18
Barrett
Waking up early with Sterling snuggled close like he tried to climb inside my skin during the night has quickly become my favorite part of the day. He’s completely nude, save for the cock cage, his skin soft and warm against mine. He has one leg hitched over my hips, his face pressed into the crook of my armpit, which I wouldn’t imagine is comfortable, but he’s fast asleep and seems happy enough with how he ended up. His soft snores bring me an odd sort of comfort, his face relaxed in a way it isn’t usually in his waking hours. I run my fingers through his already mussed hair, sticking up in all directions from having my hands in it last night, holding him in place while I kissed him stupid and fucked him into the mattress.
He makes a sleepy sound and rolls onto his back, his head staying tucked into the crook of my arm. Flakes of dried cum are still crusted on his belly, the cock cage looking pretty as ever wrapped around him, the diamond studded metal glistening among the tuft of dark hair.
I have plenty of work I need to get done today, but the thought of staying right here in bed with him is a siren song. I could make him breakfast in bed and then keep him hostage here all day. As soon as the idea takes hold, I reach for my phone to tell Gannon to cancel my day. None of it is going anywhere. I can tackle it tomorrow.
After having rolled over, Sterling seems to be soundly asleep again, which gives me plenty of time to get up and take a quick shower, then hopefully make breakfast and get back in here before he’s awake.
Unfortunately, my plan doesn’t quite work out.
I’m out of the shower, doing a quick shave of my back in front of the mirror when the door creaks open and a sleep mussed Sterling peeks inside.
“Hey there, Pretty Boy, perfect timing.” I wave him in. “I could use a little help with the spots I can’t reach.”
“You shave your back?” he asks, his sleepy confusion more than a little charming as he rubs his eyes and yawns.
“It bothers me. I don’t mind the rest of the hair on my body, but it’s irritating on my back,” I explain.
He steps inside and takes the razor I’m holding in my outstretched hand.
“Your hair is sexy,” he says, picking a spot and carefully dragging the razor along it.
“You’re sexy,” I counter, grinning as I watch his cheeks pink through the mirror. He doesn’t argue with me, but I can tell he’s thinking about it, a hint of defiance flashing in his eyes, warring with the softness brought about by my words. I’ve made it my mission to compliment him as often as possible, and I think he’s slowly learning to like it.
A comfortable silence falls between us while he works. I watch with amusement at the way his forehead wrinkles with concentration, his tongue sticking out between his teeth like he’s performing surgery rather than doing the mundane task of removing hair from my back.
An unexpected grin spreads over his lips as he works, a giggle bubbling from him and seeming to surprise both of us. The sound is so nakedly joyful that it hits me straight in my heart, warming every inch of my insides.
Sterling
I never thought it would feel so intimate to shave another man, but it does. That feeling turned into such a giddy one that I playfully left a little “S” shaped patch of h
air right above his right butt cheek and giggled to myself.
“What’s so funny?” he asks. I look up and find Barrett watching me through the mirror.
“Nothin’,” I lie, considering any other places I could leave my initials shaved. Glancing over his shoulder, I catch his eye in the mirror again and another giggle escapes my lips without my meaning for it to. Something about Barrett just makes me feel so light, I can’t help it. He smiles back at me, something warm dancing in his eyes that I let myself pretend is love. It can’t hurt to pretend for just a minute, right?
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, and I nod.
“Real good,” I answer. While I continue to work, I remember the idea Em and I had the other night when he was over. “I had an idea I wanted to talk with you about.”
“Oh?”
“See, Em and I got to talkin’ about how I ain’t had too many books growing up and all, and I thought maybe there’s something we could do to help kids like me.”
Barrett’s eyebrows go up. “Interesting. Do you have a specific idea already?”
I nod, continuing to carefully drag the razor down his back. “Mobile libraries. They’re cheaper than a whole building and they can cover a whole county in a lotta cases. Imagine sittin’ in the front yard, bored as all get out over the summer, and ya hear the bookmobile music playin’. It’s like an ice cream truck, only better ‘cause it’s books.” I start to feel giddy again as I explain the idea to him.
I rinse off the razor and peek into the mirror again to see that same dang look in his eyes that keeps making my heart feel all fluttery. He better be careful or I might just convince myself he’s in love with me after all.
“I think that’s an incredible idea,” Barrett says.
“You do?”
“I do,” he assures me with a chuckle. “Tell you what, let’s work on a proposal together and then I’ll schedule a meeting so you can formally pitch it, and we can start making a funding plan.”
“You want me to do it?” I figured I’d tell him my idea and if he liked it, he’d take it from there.
“Unless you don’t want to.”
Do I want to? I imagine the satisfaction of seeing this through, maybe even helping it grow over time. We can start in a few counties and build it up until there ain’t a single kid in the country who can’t get books if they want ‘em.
“I want to,” I answer, and he turns around to kiss me.
“Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?” he asks with one hand resting on the back of my neck, holding me in place and making me feel safe. I shake my head without thinking too much about the question. I ain’t done nothing for him to be proud of. “Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, kissing my forehead this time and then letting me go.
Once I’m finished shaving him, he rinses off the last bits of shaving cream.
“You gotta get to work soon?” I ask. I didn’t look at the time when I got up, so I don’t know how much time he has before he has to leave.
“I was planning to bring you breakfast in bed and then keep you hostage there the rest of the day.”
I light up instantly. “You mean it? All day?”
He grins. “Go climb back into bed and stay there like a good boy while I make breakfast.”
I glance down at the remnants of last night’s activities and then back up at him. “Could I shower first?”
“Hmm, good thinking,” he agrees. “Shower, then back to bed.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, hurrying to hop into the shower where I spend my time indulging even more in the fantasy of Barrett being in love with me while I wash up. I know he ain’t, but it’s a dang fine fantasy all the same.
Chapter 19
Sterling
Barrett wasn’t kidding when he said having a lot of money gets things done quick. It only takes a week for me to have my very own passport in my hands. He finds me in the kitchen one afternoon a few days before our flight to Nice is scheduled. I flip it open and stare at it in wonder, running my fingers along the picture inside: a picture of me from last week that we took just for this. I always hated looking at pictures of myself for obvious reasons, but for once, my birthmark isn’t the very first thing my eyes are drawn to. They don’t let you smile in passport pictures, but there’s a slight curve to my lips from the grin I was fighting the whole time. And even if my mouth don’t have a full smile on it, it’s shining clear in my eyes. I try to think back to the few pictures that’ve been taken of me over the years, heck any time I actually forced myself to look in the mirror…
I realize I didn’t even know what I looked like with a smile until right this second.
“I have one more thing for you, little rabbit,” Barrett tells me. I covertly wipe my eyes while he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out two pieces of folded paper. He hands them both to me, and I unfold the first one and see a list that it takes me a second to process, but when I come to the line that says HIV, I realize what I’m looking at.
“Our STD tests?” I ask, looking over at the second column that says NEGATIVE all the way down.
“Yup. That’s yours, and the other one is mine,” he says. I unfold the second one and see the same results from top to bottom. I wasn’t expecting any surprises, but it’s still a relief to see we’re both negative for everything. Even though Barrett said I didn’t need to get tested since I never been with anyone before, I insisted. Fair’s fair after all.
A ripple of excitement runs through me knowing what this means. Grinning, I fold the papers back up and set them, along with my new passport on the kitchen counter.
“Daddy,” I say, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yes, Pretty Boy?” he asks, his voice dipping low enough to send a tingle along my spine. By the smile on his face, he knows exactly what’s going through my head right now, but he’s gonna make me say it.
“Can we…” I lick my lips and step closer, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and looking up at him through my eyelashes, ‘cause I noticed before he really seems to like that.
“Can we what?” he asks, playing innocent like I don’t have a cock cage around my dick that he put there. He ain’t no blushin’ virgin, but dang does he seem to find it amusing to pretend and make me spell it out.
“You know,” I insist, my face and tips of my ears heating up. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, is that what you want?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow at me and slipping a hand under my shirt to tickle his fingers along my skin.
I nod rapidly, licking my lips again as my heart beats faster, my cock trying in vain to get hard. “Yes, Daddy. Just like you said before, I want your cum dripping out of me. I want to be sore again so I can remember I’m yours.” The words feel raw in my throat, a pleading edge creeping in.
“You have to do something for me first,” Barrett says.
“Anything,” I agree, not needing to think twice about it. He can do any filthy thing to me he wants, and I’ll beg him for more.
He puts a hand under my chin to tilt my face up, dipping his head down until our noses bump, and I can feel his breath fan over my face. My eyes close all on their own, my lips parting in anticipation of his kiss.
“Tell me something you like about yourself.”
His words startle my eyes open, his grip on my chin tightening when I try to turn my head away. “What?” I frown, trying to figure if I misunderstood what he told me to do.
“Tell me one thing you like about yourself and then I’ll fuck you bare until you’re so full of cum it’s running down the back of your thighs for the rest of the day.”
My throat tightens, and my body starts to feel shaky, and not in the good way. “Longhorn,” I whisper.
Barrett sighs, but let’s go of my face. I tuck my chin down and shrink into myself out of habit.
“You can safeword out of it right now, but I’m not going to fuck you again until you can do this for me.”
“Why?” Of all the things he could ask me to do, wh
y this?
“Because I want you to try to see the amazing man I see when I look at you.”
I scoff, but I can tell by the determined look on his face that he’s not going to change his mind about this.
“This is stupid,” I mutter before stomping out of the kitchen in frustration.
Something I like about myself, I grumble mentally. Who ever heard of something so stupid? I didn’t realize I was heading to the library until I push open the door to my favorite room in the house and slam it closed behind me, feeling a little petulant and a lot horny. But apparently, I have to say something I like about myself if I want Barrett to do anything about that.
I huff, going over to one of the bookshelves and grabbing a random book to take to the big, leather chair in front of the fireplace. It feels too big when I settle into it, not feeling right at all without Barrett between me and the chair. Curling my legs up and tucking them under myself, I flip open to the first page. My eyes scan the words without actually reading them.
What does he want me to say? I’m just an ugly boy who ain’t worth nothing. I ain’t smart. I ain’t a dang thing. There were times when I was young when I thought about doing terrible things to myself, and if I had, I doubt anybody would’ve cared.
I don’t realize I’m crying until a teardrop splashes down, creating a damp, dark spot right in the middle of the page. I sniffle and use my free hand to wipe my face. Why’s this so hard? I could just lie, tell him I think I’m things I ain’t just so he’ll be happy with me. I swallow hard, my throat thick from crying and balk at the idea of saying things that ain’t true.
I use my index finger to try to wipe the wet spot off the page, but it’s already soaked into the paper.
I guess I like that I didn’t end up doing those terrible things I thought about. Something tells me that isn’t what Barrett wants to hear though. I snort imagining how that conversation would go—“Daddy, I figured out what I like about myself. I like that I didn’t slit my wrists when I was sixteen like I wanted to. Let’s fuck now.”
Pretty Boy Page 14
