by Avon Gale
Which, of course, meant I had to do the same.
I called and left him a message after I was home. As I figured, my call went to voice mail. “Hey. It’s me. Look, I don’t like how that conversation ended, all right? I do trust you, and I’m sorry if it sounded like I didn’t.” I resisted the urge to say that I wouldn’t hold back if I had concerns, because I was trying to see things from Poe’s perspective and admit that yeah, okay, maybe I had come across as more of an authority figure than a boyfriend. The idea that he’d responded to me like he did to Landon, though . . . well, we could talk about it. Obviously this relationship of ours had a dynamic that we weren’t quite sure about.
I was about to change my clothes and go to bed when my phone lit up with a text, and I heard someone knocking on my door.
hey its me are you up
Poe. I got up and went to the door, opening it. He looked at me, his hair tousled and a flush on his cheeks. “Hey.”
“Come in.” I stepped aside and closed the door after he’d entered and dropped his bag on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said, before I could say anything. “I told you that I didn’t want you to act like my dad, but then I acted like . . . uh.” He gave me that half grin of his that made me want to smack his mouth with my dick and then kiss him senseless.
“You act when your dad tells you no?” I finished, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah.” Poe stepped in closer, and surprised me by wrapping his arms around me and giving me a hug. “I wish I would have stayed in.”
I was caught, as usual, between the conflicting urges to smooth a hand over his hair and shove my hand down his pants. “Did anything happen?”
He looked up at me and shook his head, then seemed to be a bit embarrassed that he’d been hugging me, because he tried to step back. I tightened my arms and didn’t let him.
“Nah. We got in another fight.” Poe sighed, lightly banging his forehead against my chest. “I’m so tired of fighting with him.”
I opened my mouth to ask what this fight was about—my opinion of this Blue kid was that he was a drama-magnet—but shut it firmly. Poe could tell me if he wanted.
“I’m sorry,” I said, instead. “I know he’s your friend.”
“Was,” Poe muttered. He pulled away, and this time I could tell he needed his space, so I let him go. He raked a hand through his hair and yawned.
I wondered if he’d gotten my message, but didn’t ask.
“Is it okay if I— Can I crash here?” he asked, and then I watched him go from abashed to . . . well. He smiled, eyes going heavy, and reached out to grab me by my belt. “I should make it up to you, you know, keeping you up so late.”
The right thing to do here would be to stop him and have a conversation about our relationship and our expectations. But when had I ever done the right thing when it came to Poe? Especially when he was stroking my belt like it was a dick, and I felt every light brush of his fingers like he was touching bare skin.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You should.” I watched his fingers play over the leather of my belt. He wasn’t pretending to do anything with it but tease. I reached out and gently took his wrist, making one last attempt at responsibility. “We can talk about this, if you want.”
Poe went still, staring down at the floor. When he looked up at me, his eyes were shadowed. “I do. But not now? Right now, I want . . . I need . . . something else.” He shifted closer, fingers curling tighter on my belt.
I knew what he needed, what he wanted. I heard the echoes of my earlier misgivings in my head, but with Poe giving me that look, they were easy to ignore. He wanted his daddy.
Was this wrong? Was I unfairly taking advantage of this dynamic to solve a relationship issue? Or was I procrastinating at having a serious discussion with sex?
Or maybe I was making my boyfriend feel better by doing something we both liked, and we could talk tomorrow.
I reached up and took Poe by the chin. “Hey. Look at me, boy.”
His eyes went blurry and hot, and I could hear his breath catch.
“You do something wrong you need to tell your daddy about?”
He nodded. I tightened my grip. “Answer me when I ask you a question, boy.”
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
Fuck, hearing that got me so hard. I stared at him until he eventually lowered his eyes, which was how I knew this was all play. Poe had no problem meeting my eyes when it mattered. My misgivings faded, and I gave him a light smack on the side of the face. “Then you better go in my bedroom right now, and keep that smart mouth of yours closed.”
Poe darted a quick grin up at me before trying to look contrite. He didn’t do a very good job, but that was all right. I was more than up to the challenge of making him sorry. I let go of his chin and his wrist, and crossed my arms over my chest, giving him my fiercest glare as I watched him turn and walk toward my bedroom. My eyes lingered on his ass in those tight skinny jeans of his. The thought of spanking him made my mouth water.
I went into the bedroom and leaned against the door. “Take your shirt off.”
Poe did so, dropping it on the floor and tilting his chin defiantly. Oh, he was in a mood. Good.
“Come here.”
He took a step, and I halted him with a sharp, “No. Crawl.”
For a second, I wondered if he’d do it. But then he flipped his hair out of his eyes in that careless way of his, and went to his knees with a knowing smile. He took his sweet time moving into the all-fours position, and crawled over toward me. He did it with as much sass as I expected, and I had to stop myself from smiling as he settled on his knees in front of me. I was sure he could see my erection through my jeans.
“Showing off for Daddy?” I asked. At his grin, I reached out and rubbed my fingers over his mouth. “Take my belt off.”
I waited until he reached out like I knew he would, and grabbed him by the hair. “Hands behind your back. Use your mouth.”
His eyebrows rose, but he leaned in without hesitating. I could feel the heat of his breath through my jeans, and I curled my fingers in his hair, just holding him there as he worked the stiff leather. First he undid the loop and slid the leather free of the buckle, then took it between his teeth and yanked back sharply to undo the prong. When the belt was undone, he smirked up at me.
“I said, take it off, boy.”
“Yes, Daddy.” He made a show of mouthing the metal buckle, licking and sucking it while staring straight up at me. My cock throbbed, and I tugged his hair a little in warning.
He gripped the metal buckle with his teeth and pulled, slowly, so I could feel the end of the belt as it gradually slipped out of each loop. By the time he had the belt off, he looked very pleased with himself and I was so hard I hurt.
Poe dropped the belt. “Can I take your pants off, now?”
I was tempted to make him do that with his teeth too, but I didn’t know if I could survive the torture. “No.” I walked over to the bed, stripping my shirt off and tossing it on the floor. I pushed my jeans down over my bare feet and sat on the bed, legs spread, idly palming my cock. “Bring me that belt, boy, and come tell me why Daddy needs to punish you.”
There was a moment when our eyes met, and I wondered if the fantasy was going too far. I didn’t know if this was going to be a serious thing—as in, would Poe tell me that he shouldn’t have done something illegal, or shouldn’t have gone out with his friend? Is that what I wanted?
Poe settled back down on all fours, picked the belt up with his teeth and crawled over to me. I hadn’t asked him to, but it had me running my hand over my dick through my boxer-briefs. He knelt in front of me in nothing but jeans and boots, shirtless with my belt clenched in his teeth. His hair was in his face, and the sexy little smirk was too much for me. I picked my phone up and took a picture. It didn’t entirely capture Poe’s hotness in that moment, but goddamn.
I took the belt and doubled it up, then hit it on my open palm and gave him a severe look. He cast his ey
es down as if he were very sorry, but his hands slid up my thighs and he shifted closer to me. “Shouldn’t have woken you up,” he murmured, glancing up at me. “I know you need your sleep.”
Because you’re so old went unsaid. I arched my brows and hit the belt on my palm again. “You don’t sound very sorry, boy.”
“Oh, I am.” Poe pushed slightly at my knees and leaned in, his eyes on the bulge of my cock. “Let me show you.”
I reached out and ran a hand through his hair, then tugged. Hard. Eventually I moved, sitting back against the headboard with my legs spread. “Come here, boy.”
Poe stood up and his hands went to his jeans, but he paused and glanced at me first, waiting for permission. As much as I liked him in those skinny jeans and boots, I nodded and watched him strip down to his briefs. He gave a careless toss of his hair and climbed onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. I opened the belt and wrapped it around the back of his neck. I pulled.
“Holy fuck,” Poe breathed, and moved close. He reached up to take off my underwear, but I stopped him with another quick yank on the belt.
“You don’t get my cock in your mouth until you earn it.”
Poe went right for it, mouthing over my cock through the fabric. I hissed slightly when I felt him tonguing my balls, the dark-blue cotton turning wet. He glanced up at me, licking up the hard ridge of my erection, nuzzling it and sucking the tip briefly through the cloth. I was holding both ends of the belt so it was a gentle pressure on his nape, though I did think about slipping the buckle on the belt so it rested against Poe’s throat, and fuck, the thought of it—and the sight of Poe’s mouth on my balls—nearly made me come.
I tugged on the leather to get his attention. “Are you sorry?”
He nodded. “Yes, Daddy. Very sorry.”
“Then you can have my cock.”
Poe slid my boxer briefs down and had my cock in his mouth before I could say another word. I let myself enjoy how enthusiastically he sucked cock, and the way he let me set the pace by pulling the belt tight to hold him in place when he deep-throated me. Eventually I tossed it aside so I could grab his hair and fuck his mouth. “That’s it,” I panted, as I watched him choke, saw his eyes water and the spit from the messy-as-fuck blowjob on his chin. I fucking loved that. “Take that dick and show Daddy how sorry you are.”
I could tell he was trying to get a hand down his briefs and touch his cock. “That cock of yours is mine, boy, so keep your hands off it.”
He moaned around my dick, and I fucked his face a few times, finally dragging him off before I came. He was panting, face wet and mouth parted, hands braced on either side of my thighs. “Good boy.” I reached over and flailed around until I found the condoms and lube on the bedside table, tore one open and sheathed it over my dick. I lubed it up, hissing at the sensation of my own hand, and tossed the lube to Poe. “Now get yourself ready to ride my dick.”
Poe knelt between my still-spread legs and finished taking my boxer-briefs off me before he shucked his own underwear. I watched him start to finger himself, his eyes on my dick, his breathing rough and uneven.
“Make it a show for Daddy.”
Poe went to his back and rested his heels on my shoulders, which opened him up to me completely. I had to keep my hand off myself as I watched him work himself open, saw his body writhe and felt the tension in his feet and calves as he fucked himself with two fingers. Every now and then his other hand would drift to his cock, and I’d give him a sharp warning. Poe’s dick was hard and flushed, wet with pre-come, and he was moaning loudly, hips arching up as he fucked himself.
I was transfixed, and I had to stop myself from taking a picture of that.
“Daddy, please, gonna come,” he panted.
I almost let him, because he looked so goddamn good like this—completely unselfconsciously fucking himself open for me. It would be hot as hell to watch him come and then finish myself off all over him, maybe his face—
I groaned. “Get up here and ride me.”
He scrambled fast enough that our legs got tangled together, and we both laughed breathlessly as we tried to shift positions. I took the opportunity to kiss him, giving us both a moment to calm down. If I didn’t, I was going to come the second I was inside of him.
As it was, I knew it wasn’t going to take very long. He climbed astride me, guiding my cock to his entrance, and started to slide down. As the tight heat of him enveloped my cock, I hissed and grabbed his hips. I wanted him to slow down. I wanted him to go faster. “That’s good. Very good—yeah, good boy, so good.” I was babbling, but Poe was panting and still hard as a rock as he took my cock.
He braced his hands on my chest and started riding me, head thrown back. I let him shift around until he found the perfect position for my cock to hit his sweet spot, and he started trembling on top of me when he found it.
“Feel good?”
“So fucking good,” Poe moaned, moving faster.
“You want to come?” I reached out and tapped the head of his hard cock, already wet.
“Fuck, yeah,” he said, staring at me with lust-glazed eyes. “So close, please—” He gave a choked moan as I finally slid my hand up and down his dick and started stroking.
“Get your daddy off first, now. Come on, ride me hard and make me come.” I loved the way he reacted to my voice saying this stuff, and his dick got wetter and impossibly harder in my hand.
One of his hands flew down and wrapped around my wrist. “Jericho,” he said, and the use of my actual name told me he was so close he was worried he wasn’t going to be able to obey me. I reached up and slid two of my fingers into his mouth and started pumping his dick harder.
“Ask me nicely,” I instructed, withdrawing my fingers and tapping them against his cheek as I stroked him. I was so close anyway that it wasn’t going to matter.
“Daddy, please,” Poe moaned, and this might be a game we played, but in that instant, I knew he meant it—he wanted to come, and he wanted my permission.
“Let me feel it,” I said, as Poe slammed himself harder on my dick and came with the next upward stroke of my hand. His whole body tightened, and I sure as fuck felt it, as he went so tight around my cock I came hard enough to see stars. My back arched off the bed as I drove myself as deep as I could.
Poe was trembling as he collapsed on top of me, utterly worn out. I wrapped my arms around him, still fighting to catch my breath. He moved eventually, and I went on legs that weren’t at all steady to take care of the condom and get a clean washcloth.
Poe was sprawled in the center of my bed when I got back, one hand on his stomach and the other behind his head. He didn’t move as I gently cleaned us both, his eyes closed, face still flushed red from exertion. I tossed the cloth down and climbed into bed, nudging him. “Hey. You’re gonna have to share.”
He made a noise that was close to a whine, but moved so I could get in beside him. I turned the light off and felt the edges of sleep begin to bleed into my post-sex satisfaction. Poe moved in close the second I settled down, and I felt his mouth press a kiss to my neck. “I’m sorry,” he said, very quietly. “I should have stayed in.”
Something must have happened. But we were both tired, and we could talk tomorrow. I stroked a hand over his hair. “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”
I didn’t know if he heard me before he was asleep. The post-sex exhaustion was great, but it wasn’t what got me to fall asleep. It was having Poe in my bed, right where he should be.
Poe
It felt as if I’d barely closed my eyes when the now-familiar chorus of Frank Turner’s “The Road” snapped me awake. Jericho grunted beside me in the dark and flailed out a hand for his cell phone, cutting off the music as he answered with a gruff, “Hello?” After a second, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, this is him.”
I turned bleary eyes to the clock on the nightstand. Just after 5 a.m. We’d only been asleep for maybe three hours.
Shit. It had to be bad news. No respectable per
son called so early unless it was an emergency—or someone was dead.
Dread started to grow in my stomach.
Jericho bolted upright, snatching the blankets away from me with the sudden move. “Wait, what?” he demanded, all traces of sleepiness gone. “Are you sure?”
The panic in his voice raised goose bumps along my arms. My heart jumped into overdrive. I reached out to grab his hand, and Jericho’s fingers threaded through mine. He squeezed hard, but he didn’t speak. I could hear his breaths coming faster, though the room was still too dark for me to make out the expression on his face.
After another minute he said, “Thanks. Yeah, I’ll head over there now. Okay, bye.” A second later, there was a click and the lamp beside the bed flared to life. Jericho turned to look at me. I squinted up at him, blinking at the light change.
“What is it?” I asked.
“That was the alarm company. There was a break-in at the shop. The police are there now. They want me to go meet them.”
“Did they say how bad?”
“No.” Jericho sucked in a shaky breath and pulled his hand away from mine so he could scrub at his face with both palms. “Fuck. I gotta go.”
I was already getting out of bed. “I’m coming with you.”
Tension filled the cab of Jericho’s truck as we drove to the shop. The trip had never felt longer, more like an hour than the usual fifteen minutes. Jericho didn’t say a word the whole time, but his agitation was palpable, feeding my own worry. This was his shop, his livelihood, and we had no clue what state we’d find it in.
It was worse than I could’ve imagined—and that was only the part I could see from the sidewalk.
A cop was talking to Jericho behind me, saying something about receiving reports from nearby neighbors in addition to the alert from the security company, but my attention was riveted on the wreckage of the shop.
Broken glass littered the floor, reflecting the blue and red lights from the patrol cars. The case that held Roxanne’s body jewelry had been smashed in. Paintings and framed pictures had been ripped from the walls. The monitor for the Mac we used to schedule appointments lay facedown on the ground.
