“Yes, Daddy,” he agrees breathlessly, his complete trust and submission taking my cock from half-hard to nearly ready to burst in seconds flat.
“It’s time to get up,” I say again.
“I hate you a little right now,” he complains when I roll off of him, but he pushes the covers away nonetheless and swings his legs over the side of the bed. His hair is messy, and his eyes are still half closed, but he’s up, so I’ll call that a win.
“Love you too,” I tease, kissing the back of his shoulder before climbing out of the other side of the bed.
Sterling shuffles into the bathroom, and by the time he re-emerges a little while later, he seems more awake and slightly less annoyed with me. “You got business meetings today?” he asks.
“Kind of,” I answer. “We’re going to head over to the vineyard I’ve invested in, and then hit a few more places. It’s somewhat informal; I just like to drop in every so often. Plus, it’s a great excuse to visit Nice.”
“You want me to come with?”
“I always want you with me.”
He seems to be in better spirits than he was last night, holding his head up as we walk down the street to jump on the tram that will take us close to the vineyard. I hold his hand and lean over to whisper things to him as we walk. He’s all smiles and sweet looks, giving me hope that even if there are hiccups like last night, his confidence is growing little by little and one day he’ll look in the mirror without quickly looking away.
When we reach the vineyard, Albert, the man who has been managing it for the past several years, meets us.
“Barrett, Bonjour, such a pleasure to see you again. Ça va?” He approaches, kissing me on each cheek.
“Ça va bien,” I answer, using most of the French I know, which is a bit pathetic considering I took years of it in all the fancy ass schools I attended, but most of it never stuck.
“You are more handsome each time I see you,” he flirts, keeping his eyes on me until I clear my throat and draw Sterling under my arm.
“Albert, this is my boyfriend, Sterling.”
Albert’s smile falls as he glances at Sterling, his attention lingering on the birthmark for far too long. To my boy’s credit, he keeps his head high, staring right back until Albert finally looks away.
“C’est fantastique,” he says, awkwardly kissing Sterling on each cheek as well.
An air of tension hangs between us for the rest of the visit. When we leave, I see Sterling visibly sag, like the effort to keep a smile on for the past hour has cost him all of his energy.
“Come on, Pretty Boy. Let’s blow off the rest of our stops for the day and hit the beach again,” I suggest.
“Yeah?” he asks, perking up. “That won’t mess everything up?”
“It won’t mess anything up,” I promise him, kissing the top of his head and leading him back to the tram.
For the rest of the trip, he’s in his own head to the point that I’m almost tempted to order him to tell me what he’s thinking. But I decide to let him have the time to work through whatever it is. Hopefully he’ll tell me once he’s ready, and if he thinks for one second that I’m going to let him go, he’s crazy.
*****
“Daddy?” Sterling’s voice cuts through the quiet of the hotel room. We’ve had a fun few days in the sun and sand with relatively few other incidents. But he’s stayed quiet and more reserved than before. I look up from my computer where I’ve been working from the living room couch while Sterling read on the balcony. A grin jumping instantly to my lips.
“Come here, Pretty Boy.” I wave him over, but he still looks unsure.
“It’s not too important if you’re busy,” he says.
“I’m not too busy. In fact, if I don’t take a break, I might start to get cross-eyed reading through all of these proposals. So, please, come save me.”
His nervous expression morphs into a reluctant smile, and he comes closer. I set my laptop aside, and pat my lap before he can wonder where I want him to sit. The answer is always on my lap.
He climbs on, tucking his head under my chin and letting out a content sigh as soon as he’s settled.
“I didn’t know you had to read all these emails yourself,” he says, gesturing to my computer.
“Not all of them.” If that was the case, I’d never get through them all. “I get so many emails from people with funding requests that Gannon goes through them first and any that he thinks would interest me go into their own folder, and then I read through all of those,” I explain. “Did you just come for cuddles, or do you need anything?” I’m more than happy for a cuddle break, but considering how standoffish he’s been for a few days, I’m thinking there’s more behind his sudden interest in seeking me out.
“There’s somethin’ I wanted to talk about,” he answers, fiddling absently with the buttons on my shirt.
“I’m listening.” I slip my hand under the back of his shirt, teasing my fingers along his spine.
“I’ve been looking into it, and I found this doctor in Las Vegas who might be able to remove my birthmark.”
My fingers still against his skin. My gut reaction is to reject the idea right off. There’s nothing wrong with Sterling exactly the way he is. But I can feel the way he’s vibrating with tension, bracing for my response. He’s taken the time to look for a doctor on his own, which means this is important to him, and even if I don’t agree with the way he sees himself, I’ll always support him.
I blow out a long breath, and he bumps my chin with his head as he looks up at me. “Whatcha thinkin’, Daddy?”
“I’m thinking that you’re absolutely perfect exactly as you are,” I answer honestly. “But, if this is important to you, then you should tell me more about it so we can make a plan together.”
“Really? You’d be okay with me doin’ this?”
I frown and try not to grumble. “I’m okay with hearing more and making an appointment for a consultation. We can go from there.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” He throws his arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. After that, he pulls out his phone and starts to show me the doctor he’s been looking at.
He’s animated again, light and excited as he tells me about the procedure. I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, and he stops talking for a second to smile at me, turning his head so I can kiss his lips this time.
I will bring him the moon if it will make him this happy. He’s my boy; his happiness is my job.
Chapter 22
Sterling
Barrett waited until we were home from Nice before dropping a bit of stressful information on me that he seemed to think was somehow good news. He’d told Kiernan and Alden about the mobile library idea, and they wanted a pitch from me and Em. Worse yet, we only had a week to prepare it, which turned out to be plenty of time seeing that we didn’t have the first clue what kind of a pitch to do other than just telling them the idea like I told Barrett. Well, hopefully not just like I told Barrett, ‘cause I don’t think I’d wana shave either of their backs if I have the option not to.
“W-why couldn’t we submit a w-w-w-. Fuck,” Em grumbles. “A p-proposal in w-w-w... On paper.”
“I dunno. I think this is how they always do it? Or maybe this is Barrett’s way of tryin’ to encourage me to be stronger or somethin’,” I answer, flipping through our notes, which ain’t much more than two pages of our thoughts and ideas scribbled into a notebook.
Barrett’s office is plainer than I expected it to be, but still nice. It’s also quiet. I guess I didn’t realize that it really is just the three of them and a few assistants running the company.
Gannon comes over to us and hands us each a bottled water without saying a word and then limps off again.
“He’s h-hot,” Em whispers and then giggles. “Big and broody does things to me.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I chuckle.
“Maybe let’s focus on this presentation first and worry about oglin’ hot guys later,” I suggest.
“Boring, but f-f-fine,” he agrees.
I offered to do the talking, but Em insisted on doing his part. So, he’s practiced what he wants to say for days on end, making me listen to our meager pitch over and over while we shelved books and in between helping customers until he could make it through the whole thing without stuttering at all.
The door to the conference room opens, and Barrett peeks his head out. “We’re ready for you two, come on in.”
I hop up and Em follows right behind me. The room consists of a large table, surrounded by several leather rolling chairs and a projector screen against one wall. Were we supposed to have visuals? Like graphs or something? I trade a look with Em, who shrugs at me, which makes me feel a tad better that I’m not the only one with no clue about this whole thing.
Kiernan and Alden are already inside the intimidating room, both of them standing politely as we enter. Alden nods at each of us, just barely tilting the corner of his lip in what I’m guessing is meant to be a smile. Kiernan is much more welcoming, coming around the table and shaking my hand before pulling me in and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Barrett growls at that move, and the shit eating grin on his friend’s face makes me think that reaction was the whole point.
He greets Em next, his eyes heating as soon as they land on my friend. His attention drops down to Em’s t-shirt with his signature purple unicorn on the front, and I wonder if we prob’ly shoulda dressed more professionally today.
“Cute,” Kiernan says, his voice dripping with amusement.
I glance over and find Em blushing like crazy. He tries to pull his hand back, but Kiernan holds onto it for a few extra seconds before releasing it.
“Don’t scare people who are here to ask us for money, Kier,” Barrett scolds.
“Who’s scared?” he asks smoothly, still shamelessly raking his eyes over Em, who looks like he’d really love to find a hole to crawl inside.
“Are we planning to stand around with our dicks in our hands all day, or are we going to hear this pitch?” Alden asks, spurring Kiernan to give him the finger before he goes back around to his chair and sits back down.
Barrett makes a move to kiss my cheek, but I put my hand out to stop him, giving him a stern look. “This is professional, Daddy. You wouldn’t kiss anyone else who came in to pitch an investment, so you shouldn’t be fixin’ to kiss me.” He looks both affronted and amused by my rejection, but takes a seat anyway. “I still love you,” I tack on, just to soften the blow, which makes both his friends laugh under their breath.
Holding my head high, I put a hand on Em’s shoulder to steer him to the front of the room. Maybe if we stand right in front of the projector it’ll be less obvious that we ain’t got visual aids for this presentation. If you can even call it that.
He’s supposed to start by presenting the problem we’re planning to solve—I looked it up and that’s what Google said to start with, which sounded smart. I glance over, and he’s gone from blushing bright red to looking mighty pale, so I put my hand back on his shoulder. He looks over at me with pleading in his eyes.
“I c-c-c-c-,” he starts to whisper, and I give a sharp nod to let him know I understand.
“Thank y’all for lettin’ us come in today and talk about our idea for mobile libraries in rural communities,” I jump right in.
As I talk about the struggle of getting my hands on books as a kid, my confidence grows. We may not have had a real formal presentation made up, but this is an experience I lived, and I have a chance to help kids who were just like me.
“Seems like a big project; do you have any funding ideas outside of our potential contribution. Long term things to carry you after the initial investment?” Kiernan asks when I finish talking.
I look to Em again to see if he’s feeling ready to try to talk yet. He gives me a small nod. To my surprise, he grabs onto my hand. I squeeze his fingers so he knows I’m here while he does this and ready to take over if he needs it again.
“W-we t-t-t-thought we could approach local b-b-bookstores t-t-to help with ongoing fundraising. Things like d-d-d-days w-where part of their p-p-profit is donated to us. It gets the c-c-community involved.”
“Bookstores?” Alden repeats. “Why would they want to contribute? Wouldn’t it be counterproductive for their business for them to support giving away books like that?”
“N-n-n-no, actually. These kids can’t afford b-b-books anyway, so they were never potential c-customers. And most indie b-b-bookstore owners love books and will w-w-want to help pass that on to k-kids who can’t get books.”
Barrett shoots me a proud look that makes me warm all over.
“What are we looking at for start-up costs?” he asks.
I read off the amount that he helped me figure out a few days ago. “We figured we can keep start-up costs low by seein’ if we can do book drives to get donations and buy up some decommissioned school busses.” Thank you, Barrett for that ten-dollar word. “And we can start in just one or two counties to work out the kinks before expanding into new counties and states.”
He gives me a covert thumbs up for nailing the answer we practiced.
After that, the three of them start talking about how much they could put in and how much they’d want to fundraise ahead to spread out their risk. Which, I guess means they’re gonna give us the money?
Barrett
I lead Sterling and Em back out into the hall and pull my boy in for a kiss, which he doesn’t protest this time.
“What happens now? Did we get the funding?” he asks excitedly.
“You got the funding,” I assure him. Of course, he was going to get it; I just thought it would mean more to him if he had the chance to do this the same way we’d make anyone else do it rather than simply having me hand him the money. “What happens next is the two of you make a full business plan and start organizing your own next steps.” Sterling’s eyes go wide, and he looks over at Em who’s looking equally nervous. “Don’t panic; you can borrow Gannon to get you started. Anyway, on our end, I’ll get Nolan working on putting a fundraising event together, and by the end of next month, you’ll have a check in your hands to fund your mobile libraries.”
“Holy heck, I can’t believe this is real,” he says. “This was a silly idea I had on a whim, now I have to create a whole organization to make it real?”
“You are capable of huge things, little rabbit. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” I ask, and he blushes.
“I couldn’t do it without you, Daddy.”
I scoff. “I’m throwing money at an idea you came up with, that’s all.” I kiss him one more time. “I’d better get back to work, but why don’t I take the two of you out for a fancy dinner to celebrate tonight?” I suggest.
“F-f-free food, count me in,” Em agrees.
“Great, I’ll decide on a place and let Kane know where to take you in a few hours.”
I make sure they get back down to the car okay, and then join Alden and Kiernan again in going over the numbers.
“Gotta tell you, even if he wasn’t your boy, this is a solid plan. Not as thorough as most, but I don’t think it’ll be a money pit.”
“That’s good news seeing that I was planning to fund it regardless,” I deadpan.
“You know, just because you’re his Daddy, doesn’t mean you need to be such a cinnamon roll,” Alden points out with a half smirk.
“Don’t be jealous,” I shoot back, and he doesn’t bother to argue with my assessment. We both know if he had a boy, he’d be spoiling them just as much. He plays at being a hard ass but the last time he had a boy, he was softer than hell. Then again, that didn’t exactly work out well for him, so there’s that.
“Who, uh, who was Sterling’s friend again?” Kiernan asks, as if Emerson’s name isn’t written on the papers he’s currently shuffling absently.
“Emerson,” I answer with a smirk, earning the exact glare I was anticipating in return. “What exactly do you want to know?”
He shrugs, and I wait him out. “He was cute,” he says off-handedly.
“And now he’s a business associate. It’s not exactly appropriate. In fact, we’re giving them money, if you come onto him it could be seen as coercion, and not in the sexy, playful way,” I point out.
Kiernan deflates, blowing out a breath and running his fingers through his auburn hair, causing it to stick up in several directions. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“Yes, it’s quite the tragedy. God knows you aren’t swimming in boys dying to snag a ginger Daddy,” I tease.
He sighs. “I guess.” He sounds surprisingly disappointed for a man who’s never brought the same man to two different fundraisers.
Chapter 23
Sterling
I bounce my knee and chew on my bottom lip, watching as one beautiful person after another comes and goes through the waiting room. I can’t work out what all these people who already look perfect are doing going to see a plastic surgeon, but I guess some folks ain’t never happy with how they look.
Barrett puts his hand on my knee, and I force myself to sit still.
“You know, if you’re nervous, we don’t have to do this,” he says, and I scrunch my forehead, trying to figure out what he’s going on about. Course I’m nervous; we’re talking about lasers on my face, but I’m doing this for him. He’s the most handsome, wonderful Daddy in the world, and he deserves someone on his arm he’s proud to show off. A few lasers on my skin are more than worth knowing it’s true when he calls me his pretty boy.
“I want this,” I tell him firmly.
He sighs, tightening his fingers against my knee and not saying another word. It’s weird, I thought he’d be more excited after I told him about a surgery that could make me look normal, but he don’t seem too thrilled about it.
“Mr. Davis?” The nurse in light pink scrubs calls my name, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves before standing up. Barrett stands right along with me, twining his fingers through mine.
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