Forgive My Mistake

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Forgive My Mistake Page 2

by Lynn Van Dorn


  Then, there were his parents themselves. They had, more or less, come to terms with his being spectacularly gay and a tabloid journalist, but neither knew quite what to make of Charlie, who was so much older than their son, as well as being so much richer than they could easily comprehend.Hell, Ethan, who lived with Charlie, had a hard time processing exactly how much money Charlie had, and he drove a BMW to work every day that had been a birthday present from him. It had even come with one of those ridiculous bows you’re only supposed to see in car commercials. Completely over-the-top. Completely Charlie.

  They seemed to be under the impression that Charlie had latched onto Ethan in order to find a young caretaker for his old age. No matter that Charlie was over a decade younger than his parents, they persisted in seeing him as an old man who was preying upon their “innocent son.” Thus, they were sympathetic to Ethan’s annoyance with his boyfriend, but not at all for the correct reasons, and thus it wasn’t particularly comforting to be told over and over that he’d had a “narrow miss” and now Ethan could find someone “his own age” to settle down with. In fact, his mother was fairly certain their accountant was gay, and wouldn’t it be nice if Ethan could come back home and live nearer to his parents?

  Ethan shuddered at the thought.

  The straw that broke the camel’s back, though, was his brother and sister-in-law, who announced they were pregnant. There was much celebrating and happiness, and Ethan was in favor of having a niece or nephew to spoil, but then Kristi had ruined it.

  She caught him alone in the kitchen and said, “Now that we’re going to have a baby, Eddie and I are glad you’re no longer with that man.”

  That wasn’t strictly speaking true, but Ethan was so thrown by her statement that he merely said, “What? Why?”

  “One hears stories,” she said. “All those child molesters in Hollywood. You can’t tell me they don’t exist. All those men in power taking advantage of children.” She shuddered.

  “But Charlie—” The idea of Charlie molesting anyone was so beyond ridiculous, Ethan wasn’t sure how to process the idea.

  “Plus, he’s, you know.” Kristi paused, looking pained. “A homosexual. No offense,” she added belatedly, as if suddenly remembering that Ethan was also a dreaded homosexual.

  “Right,” Ethan had said, then fled the purple kitchen before he strangled Kristi with her own blonde ponytail.

  Safely in his room, he messaged Charlie for the first time in four days.

  * * *

  Ethan: Rescue me.

  * * *

  Then he flopped down on his bed, ignoring his mother trying to coax him out of his room to play cards with the family. After a time, he felt a reassuring vibration from his phone.

  * * *

  Charlie: Does this mean you forgive me?

  Ethan: It means I’m ready to let you beg for forgiveness then promise to never rule the parts of my life that belong solely to me. I don’t go prancing about your office, sucking a lollipop suggestively and begging to be spanked.

  Charlie: You could. If you wanted.

  Ethan: Charlie!

  Charlie: When do you want rescuing?

  Ethan: Now.

  Charlie: On it.

  * * *

  Ethan thumped back onto bed. Things weren’t settled between them, not by a long shot, but Ethan was more than ready to hammer things out. Being with Charlie but angry at him was a thousand times better than being angry at him all alone.

  8

  Charlie Gets to Rescue Ethan

  Charlie walked up to the front door of Ethan's childhood home with trepidation. He had only met Ethan's parents once, and he had the idea they didn't approve of him.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said lamely as the door was opened by a slightly older and heavier version of Ethan. “I've come to fetch your brother.”

  The brother, whose name escaped Charlie, grunted. “He's sulking in his room.”

  “Eddie,” called a female voice from another room, “who is it?”

  “Ethan's ex.”

  “Uh, no,” Charlie said hastily. “Not his ex. We have decidedly not broken up.” He juggled the packages in his arms, trying to locate his phone. In the end, he shoved the packages at Eddie. “Here, take these. I bought presents.”

  “For Ethan?” Eddie asked blankly.

  “No. For you and your family. Ethan's presents are waiting for him at home. Our home.”

  By this point, Ethan's parents had joined them in the foyer.

  “I thought you two broke up,” Ethan's mother said.

  “No, we didn't,” Charlie said. He took the bouquet of lavender roses he'd thrust at Eddie and presented them. “For you, ma'am.”

  She looked torn between thanking him for the flowers and saying something caustic. In the end, she just buried her nose in the roses and sighed.

  “I'll just go get Ethan,” his father said. “But if he wants you to go, I'll expect you to leave.”

  Charlie's heart lurched, but he nodded. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

  Eddie put the gifts down on a side table. He frowned at Charlie. “Ethan has a bad track record with men. I think he needs therapy, not another boyfriend. Don't hurt him.”

  Eddie, for all that he was straight, did an excellent flounce out of the room. That left Charlie with Ethan's mother.

  “I know a very nice accountant,” she said darkly.

  Charlie had no idea what to make of that. “That's…uh…nice—”

  “Charlie, oh thank God. I mean, you've got some 'splaining to do, but—”

  Charlie was at Ethan's side in an instant. He kissed the hell out of his boyfriend, audience be damned. “Are you ready?” He asked when he lifted his head.

  Ethan, grinning ridiculously, tried to scowl and failed. “I haven't forgiven you yet, and we have a big talk about boundaries, mister, but yeah, I am more than ready.” He turned to his parents, who had nearly identical looks of mild shock on their faces. “Bye, guys. Merry Christmas.” He hugged his father and kissed his mother. “I'm taking off now.”

  “But…” his mother said plaintively. “Accountant?”

  “Sorry, mom, but I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a movie producer. I know it's not what you wanted for me, but I think you'll come around. Charlie is the best. Even when he's super-duper wrong.” Ethan frowned in Charlie's direction.

  Charlie didn't care. His heart felt as light as a feather. “Are you ready to go?” He nodded at Ethan's parents. “It was nice seeing you again.”

  They still had looks of mild shock on their faces, but they nodded at him. Then they, too, left the hallway.

  “Let me go grab my bag,” Ethan said.

  When he returned, he grinned up at Charlie. “I'm looking forward to you making things up to me. You're gonna have to do so much groveling. Do you have any idea how awkward things are going to be at work? You better have come on a fiery steed.”

  “How does a limo sound?” Charlie asked.

  “Completely unnecessary and ridiculous.”

  “I can call up a car on Uber, if you insist.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes when he saw the limo parked out in front of his parents’ house, the driver standing next to it, waiting for his next command from Lord Charles Weston. “Don't be an idiot. ” He gave his bag to the limo driver and slipped into the back seat. “Let my rescue-slash-kidnapping commence.”

  9

  Ethan Gets the John Hughes Tour

  Ethan found that forgiveness was more easily given after time spent apart in the company of his family, a liberal application of gin, and a very unexpected treat.

  They arrived at Sacramento Executive Airport, got on a private jet, (“You chartered a jet?” “No, I own a jet.” “Of course you do.”), and arrived in comfort…somewhere. Somewhere cold, based on the thick parka Charlie handed him.

  “Did we go to the north pole?”

  “Not exactly,” Charlie said, knotting a scarf around Ethan's neck, “but it is chilly out there.”
/>
  “But where are we?”

  “You'll see.”

  In the limo, Ethan said, “Illinois?”

  “Mm hm,” was all Charlie allowed.

  It was early morning, and their first stop was at a bakery for pastries and coffee. Outside, Charlie pointed down the street. “That bridge was in Risky Business, but you can't tell. They rebuilt the whole thing.”

  “Charlie?”

  “Yes, sweet?”

  “Are you taking me on a John Hughes tour?”

  “I might be. Is it working?” Charlie's lips quirked in a half-smile and his eyes crinkled in the way that made Ethan want to get down on his knees. Only he was wearing Armani and no one should kneel on slushy pavement in Armani. It was a rule or something. He would give Charlie's cock a rain-check.

  “Fuck, yes. I'm not cheap, but everyone has their limits.”

  “It's one of the many reasons I love you,” Charlie said solemnly. “Now, let's get back to the limo. We have more stops to make. But unlike Ferris Bueller's Day Off, we're going to take more than an afternoon to see it all.”

  They checked into a suite with a lake view in the Ritz-Carlton, and the first few days they spent sightseeing. They visited houses in Highland Park that had belonged to Cameron, Jake, Wyatt, and Deb, Ferris’ high school in Northbrook, the school library used in The Breakfast Club in Des Plaines, and the house from Home Alone in Winnetka, the church the wedding took place in from Sixteen Candles in Glencoe, and then they went to all the Chicago landmarks seen in Ferris Bueller.

  By the third day, Ethan was exhausted.

  “I'm beginning to subscribe to the theory that everything that happened in Ferris Bueller's Day Off really was a fever dream,” Ethan said, stretching luxuriously on their hotel bed. “I'm don't think I can look at one more thing. My eyeballs are closed.” He smiled and flung his arms out on the bed. “It's been great, though. Best make-up present ever. Thanks, Charlie.”

  Charlie leaned over and kissed Ethan's nose. “I'm still not totally forgiven?”

  Ethan scrunched his nose. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

  “I should let you fight your own battles.”

  Ethan opened one eye and looked up at Charlie. “Close. You should let me fight my own battles unless I ask you for assistance. This thing we have. It has to be a partnership or it won't work. I can't let you make my life work the way you think it should go. I want you to be my equal. Not my keeper. Okay?”

  Charlie nodded. “Okay. I know it’s something I have to work on. It’s not easy. I want to fight all your battles. Be your knight in shining armor. Your hero. Your—”

  “My Daddy?”

  Charlies sighed. “Yes. I’m so sorry, sweet boy. I can’t promise I’ll never do it again, but I’ll try my damnedest to respect your autonomy. Promise.”

  And really, what more could Ethan ask for? “Good. Now what?”

  “I know it's New Year's Eve, but how would you feel about staying in today? We can get room service instead of fighting the crowds. I made a reservation, but I can cancel it.”

  Ethan looped his arms around Charlie's neck. “Perfect, Daddy,” he whispered. Which both knew also meant, I forgive you.

  10

  Charlie Gets His Boy

  Despite being slightly angry with him, Ethan had consented to Charlie's efforts at make-up sex immediately, starting in the limo in Sacramento. Still, no matter how wanton and passionate he seemed, Charlie could sense Ethan holding part of himself back.

  That small bit of distance seemed gone, though, and Charlie was thankful. He loved Ethan with every fiber of his being, and he would do anything to keep him, even if it meant groveling. Especially since, in this case, the groveling was warranted.

  They spent a lazy day in bed eating hors d'oeuvres sent up by room service and drinking champagne. They played, but Charlie wouldn't let Ethan come. Time after time after time Charlie licked and kissed and stroked and sucked his boy, and every time Ethan got close, he backed off. Hour after hour, until his sweet, perfect boy was a crying, incoherent mess, having traveled first through anger (“You bastard.”), denial (“You can't do this to me.”), to bargaining (“I will never bring up what a douchey asshole you were if you just suck me off.”), and lastly to begging (“I'll be good, Daddy, I promise. Please. So good. You'll see. Please.”).

  “Not yet,” Charlie said, again and again, then he'd kiss Ethan's hip bone, or bite his neck, or shove four fingers and a tongue up his boy's pretty ass.

  “When?” Ethan cried, sounding full of despair, but he hadn't said his safeword, not even when Charlie had reminded him it was an option.

  Charlie looked at the clock. “Soon,” he promised. “It's almost midnight.” He half-dragged and half-carried an unresisting Ethan out of their bed and over to the window. Nearly all the lights in the room were off, so they had a spectacular view of the lake.

  He kissed Ethan's shoulder and dragged his lube-slicked cock along Ethan's soft and ready hole. “Are you ready?”

  “Screw…you,” Ethan mumbled. “Been…ready…ages asshole…Daddy.” He braced his hands and forehead against what had to be chilly glass. “Fuck me…now. Else.”

  Charlie thrust inside him, bottoming out in one stroke. “Else what?”

  Ethan just moaned and cried and then screamed.

  Charlie bit Ethan's shoulder as a distant boom was heard. “Open your eyes and come for me, pretty boy.”

  11

  Ethan Gets His Happy Ending

  The first thing he saw was the dark lake, then it was lit up with what seemed like a hundred fireworks lighting up the sky. Charlie's cock was in his ass and his hand stroked Ethan's aching erection, and everything exploded.

  “I love you,” he cried, helpless to stop. “I love you I love you I love you.”

  “Happy New Year, baby,” Charlie growled as he thrust again and again into Ethan.

  It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, or done, or felt.

  Later, after Charlie had also come, they stood, panting, watching the fireworks through foggy glass.

  “I love you,” Charlie said, “and I am so sorry.”

  “I know.” Ethan nestled in Charlie's arms. He never wanted to be anywhere else. So he looked into the reflection of Charlie’s eyes and said, “Marry me, Daddy.”

  Charlie froze, then hugged Ethan hard. He also began to laugh.

  “Hey. That was not a joking proposal. I meant it. You should make an honest man out of me. Also, this way I can take half of what you own, including your Bentley, if you end up trying to trade me in for a younger model in five years.”

  Charlie only laughed harder and stumbled off. He grabbed his robe, put it on, then opened the door to a knock, as if expecting it.

  Ethan turned away from the fireworks display to glare at Charlie, hands on his narrow hips. “Stop laughing, mister.”

  Charlie wheeled over a cart with yet another champagne bucket on it and a dish covered in a silver dome. Which was odd. None of the rest of the food had come that way. Charlie lifted the domed cover theatrically and on the plate was strawberries. Ethan squinted. And a small red enameled box shaped like a strawberry.

  “Open it,” Charlie suggested. “It's for you.”

  Ethan snagged it and opened it up. Inside was a wide platinum band, studded with sapphires in several shades of blue from pale ice to darkest midnight. He sucked in his breath.

  “Yes, sweet boy, perfect boy, my boy, I'll marry you.”

  Ethan snorted. “I stole your thunder.”

  Charlie smirked. “That you did. But I love you, and I don't care. Spend the rest of your life with me. Please.”

  Ethan slid the ring onto his finger then threw himself into Charlie's arms. “Yes, dammit. I am hanging onto you forever. Just try to get rid of me. Now. Pour me more champagne, husband-to-be.”

  Later that night, Charlie lay on his back and Ethan rode his cock, pleasing himself, and his man, and thinking that each year with Charlie might be bett
er than the one before. And even if it wasn't, they had each other, and they would get through whatever came their way together.

  “I want to spend every year with you. Every. Single. One.” Then Charlie came again, his seed hot inside Ethan, claiming him, owning him, but the reverse was true. Ethan was the sole owner of the key to Charlie's heart.

  “God, yes.” Ethan's hand was busy, his hand jerking himself as he fucked Charlie's still stiff cock. He also came, painting Charlie's chest, claiming him just as certainly as he himself was claimed. “Happy New Year, Daddy.”

  It would be the first of many. A lifetime's worth.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my alpha, Savannah, and to my betas: Lisa, Brittany, Emo, and Mel. Much appreciation and thanks to Judith Singer, my editor. You all made this better.

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  Also by Lynn Van Dorn

  North Shore Stories:

  Be My Mistake

  Damage Control

  Daddy Issues

  * * *

  The Oleander Chronicles:

  Reunion

  * * *

 

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