Emerson playfully flicks his tongue against my bottom lip, and my body heats from head to toe. I growl against his mouth and kiss him deeper, harder, hungrier.
I’m sure people are staring, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck. The weight of my boy in my arms is perfect. His lips are soft and sweet against mine, just a little sticky from the lipstick he has on, his tongue hot and wet as he slides it into my mouth. I let him have his fun for a minute before taking control of the kiss, sucking and nibbling and savoring his mouth. His body trembles against me, his fingers curling around the lapels of my suit jacket.
Lust and joy and a hundred other emotions rush through me all at once. Nothing in my life has ever felt this right. Emerson is mine, and I’m never going to let him go.
I break the kiss so we can both get our bearings and perhaps take this somewhere a little more private. The crimson lipstick Emerson has on is smeared around his mouth now, no doubt painting mine as well, which is a thought I’m rather fond of. He looked incredible when he stepped through the door, nicely dressed and ready for a fancy evening. But he looks even better now, slightly debauched by me.
“It’s y-y-y-you.” He tightens his grip on my suit jacket, and I nod.
“It’s me,” I confirm with a wry smirk. He loosens his legs from around my waist and slides down my body so he’s standing on his own again. “Why don’t I grab us a couple of drinks, and we can go somewhere to talk?”
Emerson tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and looks up at me through his eyelashes, exactly how I’ve been imagining for weeks…months even. “C-c-can we talk l-l-l-lll…” He pauses and licks his lips. “After?” he finishes.
“After?” I repeat, following his gaze as he looks at the mass of masked guests dancing a few feet away while trays of food and drinks are carried by waiters dressed in white tuxedos. “Of course. I’m an idiot. I invited you to a party just to immediately try to drag you away for a boring conversation.”
He gives me a crooked smile and shrugs. He’s absolutely right; we should enjoy the party and each other. Now that I know he’s not about to run away screaming from me, there will be plenty of time to discuss things later…and hopefully plenty more of those addictive kisses.
I wrap my hand around his, slotting our fingers together neatly. His smaller hand fits so perfectly in mine, just like his petite body fit in my arms. Jesus, I need to keep a handle on myself, or I’ll end up scaring the poor boy off.
I smile and nod at several people as we make our way onto the dance floor, greeting acquaintances and shrugging off curious looks at my date for the evening. It’s rare that I show up to an event with someone unrecognizable, typically sticking with the same gold-digging twinks who worm their way into every society party.
When I find a good spot, I pull Emerson close, keeping our hands clasped while I guide the other to my shoulder and wrap my free arm around his waist. A worried expression tightens his features, and he gestures for me to lean down so he can whisper something to me.
“I d-d-don’t know how to d-d-dance like this.”
I tighten my arm around his waist and turn my head to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “All you have to do is follow my lead. I think you can handle that, right, sweetheart?”
He bobs his head in a quick nod. “Yes, Daddy,” he answers softly, and my heart nearly explodes out of my chest. That word on his lips is even more perfect than I’d imagined. Even hearing it the second time, it’s effect on me hasn’t dulled. Will it nearly bring me to my knees every time this sweet, beautiful boy calls me his Daddy? I suppose that’s a fair enough price to pay. I’ll just have to dedicate the rest of my life to ensuring I earn such a privilege from him.
I waltz us around the dance floor, keeping my boy nice and close, occasionally leaning in to whisper scandalous gossip into his ear about people I spot. Emerson gasps and laughs each time, always holding onto me tighter like he’s afraid I’m going to slip away at any moment.
Barrett catches my eye, giving me a curious expression when he sees that it’s Emerson I’m dancing with. He’ll no doubt be pestering me to hear the whole story later. Based on the look Sterling is giving Emerson, I won’t be the only one fielding questions from friends. But that’s a problem for another day. Tonight is about enjoying my first date with my boy.
“How about a drink?” I suggest after a few dances, and he nods, releasing his grip on my shoulder and letting me lead him off the dance floor.
I snag two glasses of wine from the first waiter I spot, offering one to Emerson. I find us a table, pulling out a chair for him and then taking the seat beside him. He seems to be enthralled with the house…mansion really, his eyes wide as he looks around at the high ceilings and grand staircase that frames the dance floor.
Is this the kind of place Emerson dreams of living? Does he fantasize about a man who will buy him expensive things and drape him in all the finest clothes? I bristle a little internally, not truly thinking of him, but of all the boys before who always seemed to become extra affectionate toward me after I would shower them in gifts or take them on luxurious vacations. I wasn’t a Daddy in their eyes; I was a wallet.
“Something wrong?” Emerson asks quietly, putting a hand on top of mine and looking at me with big, soft eyes.
I flip my hand over and clasp his. “No, Brave Boy,” I assure him, lifting his hand to my lips and kissing the back of it.
He blushes, his eyes locked on mine the whole time. “I c-c-c-can’t believe this is r-r-real. I h-h-hoped…”
My heart leaps again. He hoped for me? Is that what he means? Fuck, I was afraid to wish for that much, to hope he might be imagining me on the other end of the phone just like I was imagining him.
“The night we first started talking, I hoped it was you too,” I confess. “I knew before tonight…” I want to be completely honest with him. If we’re going to go headfirst into this relationship, I don’t want any secrets hanging between us.
He squeezes my hand. “A f-few more dances and th-then we can l-leave and talk?”
“Anything you want,” I agree, kissing his hand again and taking a sip from my wine. There’s no rush. I’m simply eager to have everything completely out in the open between us. But he’s right. I would rather take him home for that discussion. I wonder if he’ll be open to spending the night in my bed. I ache with longing at the thought of spending the night with my boy wrapped in my arms.
I turn the conversation toward more insignificant topics while we both sip our drinks. I snag some appetizers from waiters who pass and, before long, Em seems to be relaxing, stuttering less and smiling while we discuss the book he sent me home with the other day.
We do end up dancing again, waltzing to the live music until our feet are sore. The best part of the evening is the way my boy laughs so beautifully when I spin him on the dance floor. He relaxes when I dip him, trusting his weight to my strong arm around his back. The subtle show of submission, of putting his faith in the knowledge that I wouldn’t let harm come to him, is enough to make my dick hard and my heart soft all at once.
I pull him upright and duck my head to whisper into his ear.
“How would you like to come back to my place and enjoy the pool with me?”
Emerson leans into me, his earlobe brushing against my lips and his fingers tightening against my shoulder. “I don’t have a s-swimsuit.”
“Even better,” I purr, and he makes a small noise that I almost don’t hear over the din of the party. It’s a sweet, needy noise that makes my already hard cock throb.
Tonight isn’t a night for sex though. Tonight, we’re going to talk, swim, and hopefully fall asleep together. After everything is on the table, and Emerson has had the chance to sleep on things, we can go from there.
“L-let’s go.”
Chapter 14
Emerson
I feel like I’m in a living daydream. It’s Kiernan. After all of the wishing and hoping, LonelyDaddy is Kiernan. I wave to Sterling as we pass him
on our way out to Kiernan’s car. He mouths call me, and I nod in agreement. I’ll call him, but not tonight. Tonight, Daddy and I have a lot to talk about, but I hope that’s not the only thing that will keep us busy.
My cock starts to harden as I imagine all the things he might want to do to me, all the ways he’ll worship and use my body. A quiet whine slips out of my lips, and he casts a curious look at me over his shoulder, pausing for his driver to open the car door for us. I lick my lips and stare up at him, eagerly picturing the two of us naked, his massive body all mine to climb and rub against.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, a wicked grin spreading over his lips as if he can read my mind. “Behave,” he says, and a shiver of desire ripples through me. When I realized it was him earlier, I had a brief moment of wondering how I didn’t recognize his voice on the phone. It’s because his Daddy voice is different: deeper, somehow both commanding and softer at the same time, like the sound equivalent of a simultaneous warm hug and a slap on the ass.
“Yes, Daddy,” I answer without giving it a second thought, and his gaze heats.
The driver steps away, climbing into the front seat of the car while Kiernan gestures for me to get in. I slip past him and slide all the way in, the buttery leather of the seats like a dream. Oh god, he’ll be horrified if he ever rides in my car. My passenger seat has a large duct tape patch over the torn worn-out upholstery. Not that I couldn’t buy a newer car if I wanted; it’s just nowhere near the top of my list of things to worry about.
Kiernan gets in behind me. “Buckle up,” he says firmly, and I hurry to obey. Will he call me a good boy like he did on the phone? Fuck, I want to hear those words on his lips while he pins me down, naked and horny beneath him.
My cock twitches and another quiet sound tries to force its way out of my throat, but I manage to swallow it back. I’m going to behave, just like he said. For now, at least.
The car starts to move, and I slide my hand onto the middle seat between us, hoping he’ll reach for it. Kiernan doesn’t disappoint, twining our fingers together, his large hand practically swallowing mine up.
Now that we’re away from all the noise of the party, and the initial shock of discovering the truth about Daddy, my mind starts to buzz with thoughts and questions. What does all of this mean? Does Kiernan feel the same way I do? Daddy promised me so many things about what would happen once we met, but I’m having a hard time reconciling the two men in my mind into one. As much time as I spent hoping they were one and the same, Daddy still feels like someone else.
But there’s one question pushing its way to the forefront of my mind, and I think I’m ready to ask now.
“When d-d-did you know?” I ask, keeping my gaze focused outside the window, watching as the lights of the neighborhood fade and we head in a toward less populated area. I remember him saying his house was somewhere dark and quiet, where we’d be able to see the stars.
“I had my suspicions early on, and the unicorn safeword was a bit of a flashing sign,” he says, and I giggle. “But I knew for sure after the night we had dinner. You went home and texted me about your guilt, and I knew.”
I think back over all of our interactions. Did he change when he realized who I was? Not that I can remember. But he did encourage me to give Kiernan a chance…give him a chance? This is kind of confusing. I finally tear my eyes away from the window and look over at him. Can I trust him?
My grandpa always used to tell me that I was too naïve, that I let people manipulate me because I was so desperate to be liked. I know he was right, but what I don’t know is if that’s what’s happening right now.
Was LonelyDaddy some elaborate scheme for Kiernan to trick me and seduce me? It’s almost laughable to consider. Why would anyone go to that much trouble to get me into bed? I can’t shake the uneasy feeling all the same.
He’s completely quiet, not offering any defense or explanation, simply holding my hand and waiting for me to sort through the confusing tangle of thoughts I’m wrestling with.
Before I manage to get my head straight, we pull into his driveway.
He helps me out of the car, and I look up at the looming house. It’s exactly what I’ve pictured any time I let my mind wander down the path of Kiernan bringing me home. Of course, in all of my fantasies, we can’t keep our hands off of each other as we stumble inside, our mouths fused while we grope to strip each other bare.
Not that I’m ruling all of that out, once I’m sure I can trust him.
Kiernan dismisses his driver and leads me up the stone steps to his front door. I notice a tenseness to his shoulders when he stops to unlock the door. Maybe he’s as nervous and confused as I am. Maybe we’re both a bit out of our element right now.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he offers as soon as we’re inside.
“I could eat s-s-s-sss-something small,” I answer.
“Why don’t I show you to the pool, and then you can relax and enjoy the view while I put a snack tray together for us.”
“Okay.”
I follow him through the house, stopping at the back door to take off my shoes and then walking out onto the patio. It’s absolutely beautiful, an infinity pool that looks like you could swim right off the edge, a seating area with a couch and chairs as well as a separate row of loungers. On the far end of the patio, I spot what looks like a sauna as well as a hot tub. His house is like a five-star resort.
“Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says before disappearing back inside the house.
I loosen the top few buttons on my dress shirt, sauntering over and sitting down on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool.
Make myself comfortable…does that mean I should get naked? It was implied before we left the party, but that was before I let my thoughts complicate everything. My hands start to sweat, my heart beating faster with the uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty.
I swallow around the tight feeling in my throat and try again to work through my jumbled emotions. Am I upset that Kiernan has known the truth for weeks and let me go on thinking I didn’t know him?
I try to imagine what I would have done if I’d known. It was early enough that I might’ve clammed up, gotten nervous wondering what Kiernan might be thinking of me, where things were going, if I was saying and doing the right things. It was easy with LonelyDaddy because he didn’t put any pressure or expectations on me. I’ve wanted Kiernan so badly since the minute we met that I’m not sure if I would’ve had the confidence to get to know him the way I did when I thought he was someone else. LonelyDaddy made me brave.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll to the conversation when I told him about dinner with Kiernan so I can remind myself of exactly what he said at the time. The gap in time between my confession and his response is like a snapshot of his hesitation. He got confirmation of my identity, and he took a few minutes to gather his thoughts before responding.
It’s obvious he wasn’t lying about discovering the truth at that moment. Then he tried to nudge me to stop messaging him and instead get to know Kiernan in person. I told him no. I said I wasn’t ready and that our chats were what I needed. The knot in my chest loosens as I read back over that conversation.
I told Daddy what I needed, and he gave it to me.
Since the very first message he sent, he’s been patient and sweet. He’s been everything I was afraid to even hope for in a man. I glance back toward the house, my heart stuttering now with a different kind of nerves. This thing between us could be so good; all I have to do is be brave enough to jump and know he’ll catch me.
With new resolve, I finish undoing the buttons on my shirt, shrugging off my jacket and shirt and laying both on the chair.
Kiernan
I take my time cutting up various fruits and arranging them neatly on the tray. I want to give Emerson the chance to gather his thoughts before I go out there and plead my case, explain to him my reasoning for keeping him in the dark and hope like hell he’ll u
nderstand.
I could practically see the moment in the car that the reality of the situation crashed down around him. I had a feeling it might once the party was behind us.
I add some crackers and a few different types of cheese to the tray as well, and then grab a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator. Balancing everything in one hand, I tug open the glass door and step outside. My eyes do a quick sweep of the patio, finally landing on Emerson lounging next to the pool, laid out on a nautical chaise, his eyes closed like he’s sunbathing. I take in the peaceful expression on his face for a few moments, a sense of tranquility settling over me as well. Maybe I haven’t botched things too terribly.
I drag my eyes off of his face, and my breath catches. The boy is completely nude. I was careful to leave my invitation for him to get comfortable open-ended, not wanting him to think I had any specific expectations for what that would look like. But maybe that caused him to get nervous and attempt to guess what I might want.
Setting the snack tray down on the glass table next to the outdoor couch, I stride over to Emerson, making my steps loud so I won’t startle him with too quiet of an approach. As I near him, his eyes open slowly, a smile tilting the corner of his lips.
“I hope you know that nudity wasn’t a condition of being here,” I say delicately, forcing my eyes to remain on his face until I’m sure we’re clear on the subject. He may have sent me dozens of beautifully pornographic images over the past few weeks, pictures of nearly every inch of his petite, tempting body, but this is an entirely different situation.
“You said to g-g-get comfortable,” he points out, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the chair to face me. In his seated position, he has to crane his neck to look up at me, the long line of his neck beyond tempting. I wonder how he would feel about a collar…when the time is right, of course.
Brave Boy (Perfect Boys Book 2) Page 11