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Spoiled

Page 8

by Gianni Holmes


  “I don’t blame you.” She giggled. “That’s Ashton Keyes. God, look at those legs. I envy him. All the girls on campus try to catch his attention, but of course he has to be gay.” She gave me a long, knowing look. “The hot ones are always gay.”

  I didn’t bother to enlighten her that I swung all kinds of ways. Since I was twenty-four, the gender of whoever I slept with never bothered me. “I’m sure there are plenty of hot straight men out there.” I’d finished the drawing and finally handed over her cup.

  “Thanks. Maybe it’ll be my lucky day, and I’ll run into one.” She snorted.

  “Then I hope the four-leaf clover does its trick.”

  She laughed and turned, then smacked right into the chest of the guy behind her. Yup, my four-leaf clover worked, given the blush on her face as she profusely apologized and the smile the guy gave her.

  “Give me a minute,” I told Phillip, eyeing Ashton, who’d taken up residence at a table. The little minx hadn’t even chosen a table in the corner, but one dead center where he could attract attention. At least with him sitting, I didn’t have to think about him wearing my shirt as a dress that fit his frame too damn well. Nor those legs. Damn, he had awesome legs.

  “Ah, man, you owe me an explanation at least!”

  I ignored Phillip’s nosiness and headed for Ashton. The line had trimmed down to only a few customers, and Phillip could handle those on his own. I didn’t even feel guilty about it, since I planned to make up for the time by sending him home early this evening.

  “Hey, what are you doing down here?” I loomed over Ashton.

  He sat back in his chair and craned his neck to look up at me. His lips turned down into a pout. “I got bored. Do you know you only have basic cable?”

  I chuckled at the horror in his tone. He thought basic cable was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him?

  “I don’t watch much TV.”

  “And you have no computers. Since I don’t have my phone, I was bored out of my mind, so I thought I could come down here and flirt.”

  My shoulders stiffened at the thought of him hitting on random men in the café.

  “Flirt?”

  “Yes, with you, silly.” He leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Want to know what I have on under this dress?”

  “Is that a trick question?” I eyed the shirt, which I could no longer consider mine. All I could think of was pulling up the hem and bending Ashton over this table pretty much like I’d done upstairs in the kitchen. “Besides, that’s not a dress,” I managed to croak out. “That’s my shirt.”

  “It might’ve been your shirt, but it’s definitely my dress.” He grasped the hem of the shirt and carefully raised it. I followed his movement, watching the inch upon inch of creamy flesh revealed.

  Nothing. Fuck, he had nothing on under the shirt. In my fucking café flooded with people.

  “Jesus!” I breathed out heavily. Why on earth did I ever think this was a good idea?

  “You like, Daddy?” he asked me with a knowing smile.

  “Brat, you’re hankering for another spanking, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, I’m working and have no time to play games now. Go back upstairs and stay put.”

  “Can’t I stay here until Rue comes to pick me up?” he begged. “I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

  Knowing he had on nothing beneath my shirt, I wanted to send him back to solitary confinement, but didn’t I already know that Ashton was not someone you tried to tame? Besides, what trouble could he get into when I had my eyes on him? The familiar instincts to monitor washed over me, and I stifled them.

  “Fine, you can stay, but at the first sign of trouble, you’re going back upstairs.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, Daddy. May I borrow your phone to call Rue?”

  I plucked my phone from my pocket and handed it to him as he grumbled beneath his breath. “Fuck, a phone that doesn’t use the internet. There goes checking Instagram.”

  “You’re hopeless.” His eyes flashed something I couldn’t read, almost a hint of pain at my words. “Ash?”

  He punched in the numbers on the phone. “I’ll just call Rue.”

  I left him to his phone call and returned to my station. I quickly made him a cup of Libertine and brought it to his table along with a sticky bun. The sugar would help combat any sluggishness he might still be feeling from the alcohol he’d consumed.

  “I’m not hungry.” he complained, handing me back my phone. I imagined if my phone wasn’t so basic, he wouldn’t have been so prompt with its return.

  “Eat at least a half of the sticky bun,” I said, pocketing the phone. “If you need something else, don’t hesitate to come to me.”

  He nodded and grasped the coffee cup. His smile widened when he saw what I’d scribbled for him. To boy, from Daddy. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I kissed the top of his head, and because I hadn’t planned to do it, I cleared my throat, face burning while he smiled. If he beamed any brighter, the sun would go out of commission.

  I dived into work, occasionally being distracted by Ashton. True to his word, he behaved himself well enough for me to feel comfortable having him out of my sight. The coffee shop crowd had dwindled, and I was at the back, taking stock of our inventory, when Phillip cornered me.

  “You’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

  I sighed, not breaking my concentration as I answered him. “I thought you’d be happy for me. You’ve been telling me to take him out for weeks.”

  “I know. I just didn’t expect you to go through with it.”

  “Well, it’s too late.”

  I tried to walk past him, but he blocked my way. “I know I told you to get out of your shell and give someone a chance but…”

  “You got something to say, spit it out, Phil. Inventory doesn’t get done by chatting.”

  “It just seems rather sudden,” he finally said. “The way you watch him, kiss him. It’s all moving so quickly. You might want to take a step back, yeah?”

  I poked Phil in the chest with my finger. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but you need to take a step back and let me figure this out on my own.”

  “I’m just looking out for your best interest, man. I don’t want you to be hurt again. When I said to give someone a chance, I meant go put out a little, have fun, make some boy happy in the sack. I didn’t mean to go fall in love overnight.”

  I scowled blackly at him. “I’m not in love with anyone, and I gave him rules I never gave Mario.”

  “You really think rules are going to be able to manage him?” He slapped my finger away and stabbed his finger into my chest several times. “He’s a fucking Keyes. I should’ve realized that before now. His family holds Keyes Enterprises. His uncle is the fucking mayor. Do you know how much filth the local media has on him?”

  The fucking media. I shook my head and moved away from Phil. “Like I said, I appreciate the concern, but I’m not exactly new to this. I know how to handle it if it gets out of control.”

  He held up both his hands in surrender. “All right, man. I’m done giving you my take on it. Let’s go back to making coffee, yeah?”

  He tried to change the subject, but the seed of doubt had already been planted. Phil and I had met when we went to college together in New York, but Phil had returned home from the Big Apple right out of university. I’d remained behind, attracted to the nightlife and the fast lane. Phil had lived here in Battersea for a long time and would know of the Keyeses. Given I was a new transplant, I didn’t know anyone. Just Phil, his wife, and kids.

  A couple of guys entered the coffee shop and joined Ashton. I wasn’t surprised he started a conversation with them—he must know them from college— and I tried not to let it bother me. I stopped watching him, stopped trying to figure out what he could be talking about. We were just a couple of hours into our relationship
, and I couldn’t distrust him without reason. I couldn’t afford to let Mario make me paranoid.

  A few minutes later, I was on the phone talking to our cocoa beans supplier when Ashton sidled up to the counter. The instinct was there to wrap up the call and tend to him immediately, but I allowed myself to finish my call properly, then hang up before I gave him my attention.

  “Having fun?” I nodded over to where his friends were still seated. I was surprised to find his driver standing by the table as well.

  “I would’ve had more fun with you, although watching you work is a close second.”

  “Hmm, flattery.” I quirked an eyebrow at him. “What do you actually want?”

  “To see you tomorrow. I have to leave now. My mother is having some event, and god forbid I don’t show up.”

  “Don’t you have classes tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, but I can skip…” He trailed off at the look I gave him. “What I mean is that I can come here right after my classes.”

  “Nope, you’ve got to do better than that. You only set foot in this coffee shop if you’ve finished your assignments.”

  His eyes bugged wide. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “But I have an essay that I don’t even know how to begin!”

  “Then I suggest you get on it as soon as possible, boy. You don’t want to let Daddy down, do you?”

  His throat worked, and a panicky look entered his eyes. Then he glanced away. “Okay, but then I can hang around?”

  “Better. You get your assignments done, and when we lock up, I take you to dinner.”

  That perked him up. “Deal.”

  I nodded, pleased he wasn’t fighting me on this. “Good. See you tomorrow.”

  He shook his head. “No, uh. We have to seal our deal the proper way. With a kiss.”

  I looked around the shop at the few people who were still there. Phil was somewhere beside me, probably taking in everything we said, but I couldn’t find it pertinent to care.

  “Come here.”

  I crooked a finger at Ashton, and he shuffled closer to the counter and leaned over. I met him halfway and kissed him, mindful of the customers, so keeping it sweet, spicy, and short. It was enough for me to glimpse him popping a leg behind him. Damn, dramatic boy.

  “Woah, you can kiss me like that anytime,” he murmured, then backed away with a wave, starry-eyed and wearing my shirt. Did I forget to mention just how fine my boy looked, cheeks flushed from my kiss?

  “Well, hot damn,” Phil mumbled. “If he comes around more often, we might as well open a porn studio in the back and charge for pay-per-view.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ashton

  “Hey, Ash, over here!”

  Shit, I’d intended to slip into the classroom quietly and find a seat away from where I usually sat with my friends.

  Justin had spotted me, however, and now all eyes swung toward me. I mustered up a smile and descended the stairs to the seat he’d saved for me in the little clique. No one dared to sit in these seats for our session with Professor Warburton. They were reserved without the reserved sign every Tuesday at ten, and the whole class knew it.

  “Hey, guys.” I gave a general greeting so I didn’t have to call individual names and obviously leave out Louis’s.

  “Hey, man, we didn’t see you all day yesterday,” Justin replied. I sat in the seat next to him. Unfortunately, it placed me right next to Louis as well.

  “Probably too drunk and dicked down to leave his house.” Louis smirked.

  I stiffened, each barb he threw my way hurting more than the last. My heart ached for the friendship I once had with this boy I thought was sincere. I understood that he didn’t take rejection well, but I was supposed to be his friend. Secrets shared within the friendship circle should never be exposed, no matter how tempted you are to divulge after a split.

  “Shut up, Campbell!” Justin snapped at him. “Don’t be a turd. You said you weren’t going to do this.”

  Justin’s defense bolstered my confidence as I removed my laptop from my bag. I also had my phone fully charged for recording. Some of our professors didn’t mind us recording them, and I found it helped me a lot, since I sometimes zoned out whenever they taught.

  “It’s okay, Justin.” I gave him a grateful smile that I then turned in my ex-best friend’s direction. “Louis does know me well after all. The only thing he got wrong was that I wasn’t at my house. All the dicking down happened at the other guy’s place. I can’t wait to go back for my second share, though.”

  “Can we not have this conversation?” Justin asked, face pale. “Ash, you know I have no problem with you being gay, but thinking about you riding some guy’s dick just made me throw up in my mouth a little.”

  I chuckled and pretended to zip my mouth and throw away the key. “Deal, as long as you don’t talk to us about eating out Sharon Platt. If I can listen to that, you can listen to me telling about my playtime.”

  Just then our Strategic Management professor entered the room to Justin’s delight.

  “I’ve never been so happy to see Professor Warburton in all my life.”

  “Ditto.”

  “I have the results of your last graded assignment,” the professor said by way of greeting. “As usual, some of you started out flunking the course and will continue to do so. You can check online for the individual grades. Next week I’ll hand back the papers you did.”

  Beside me, phones tapped, followed by the buzzing of voices as students checked online for their grade.

  “Yes!” Justin cried out. “I got a B. How about you, Louis?”

  “B+.” Leaning back in his chair, Louis glanced at me. “What about you, Ashton?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t remember my password. I’ll have to reset it, so I’ll do it later.”

  I refused to look at him but set the voice recording app on my phone to do its thing when the professor started talking. With Callum’s words constantly at the forefront of my mind, I tried my best to pay attention to the teacher. I took notes and pretended I didn’t see the curious glances my friends threw me.

  Halfway through the lesson, Justin nudged me. “You okay, man?”

  “Huh?” I turned to him, distracted. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re taking notes. You just seem different.”

  I smiled and shook my head at him. “I’ve never been better.”

  That was the simple answer. There was no sense telling him about the man who’d challenged me to do better. I wanted to pass my courses. To make him proud.

  At the end of class, I was all set to go. I stood and grabbed my bag, not properly shutting down my laptop before I shoved it into my bag.

  “Where’s the fire?” Louis asked.

  I glared at him, moving into the aisle. “Remember that dicking down you talked about? Well, it’s about to go down.”

  His nostrils flared, and his jaw flexed. His hands curled up into fists like he wanted to punch me.

  “You know, one of you need to spit out what’s eating at you.” Justin stood between us and pointed a finger at Louis. “Jesus, whatever Ashton did to you can’t be that bad.”

  I scoffed in disbelief, although I shouldn’t have been surprised. Whatever happened was always my fault, even when it wasn’t. I gave Justin a dry smile. Maybe it was time to cut loose from these friends. “You know me. Always fucking things up.”

  I was out in the aisle and ready to disappear when Professor Warburton called my name.

  “Mr. Keyes.”

  So much for getting out of here in time to do my Econ paper. The only relief was in being separated from Justin and Louis. Their presence had gotten tedious at best.

  “Professor?”

  “I expect to see you in my office in five.” He walked away without giving me an option.

  “Don’t worry,” Louis whispered. “Sucking dick is your specialty. I’m sure you can turn that F into at least a B.”

  In
stead of responding this time, I hurried ahead of both guys to seek out Professor Warburton. As much as I hated to admit it, Louis was right. I hadn’t completed my paper, which meant I automatically failed. I’d meant to get to it, but then I had that huge row with my mother. And instead of doing my paper, I’d rebelled that weekend, scoring one party after another. I cringed, thinking about the orgy I’d been a part of when I should’ve been doing my paper. I’d never been as wasted as I’d been that weekend.

  When I got to the professor’s office, the door was open. I knocked once and popped my head around.

  “Come in, Mr. Keyes, and shut the door behind you.”

  My heart sank at the directive, but I did what he said, standing next to the door uneasily. I was never one of those students who went to one-on-one consultation hour, so whenever I was called into a professor’s office, it was usually something bad. So bad, in fact, I trembled.

  “You okay, Mr. Keyes?” the older man asked.

  I snapped out of the moment and offered him a smile. “I’m fine. You said you wanted to talk to me?”

  “Yes, take a seat, if you please.”

  I didn’t, but I took the chair in front of his desk, avoiding the couch altogether. The similarities to his office and the only other one I’d ever visited were uncanny. Same couch, rug, and desk.

  It seemed like only yesterday I’d been bent over a desk just like this one. So much good it had done me, since I’d still failed the course. I’d have to do the same course next semester. I should’ve done it this term, but I’d avoided it when I learned Professor Murphy was the same one teaching the course. I didn’t want anything to do with that man ever again.

  “Let me guess. This is about the essay I didn’t hand in,” I said before he could make the announcement. The sooner he got it over with, the sooner I could go to the library and grab a few books to impress Callum.

  Professor Warburton pointed his fancy red-and-silver pen in my direction. “I knew there was some amount of smarts going on upstairs, but you seem allergic to anything that has to do with work, Mr. Keyes.”

 

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