by J. M. Dabney
A week had passed, and sleep was in short supply. I found a house to rent, and possibly buy if I decided to settle in. It was a nice place to make a home. My savings and the money West paid me for my time would keep me going until I could get my business off the ground. I could deal with cheating spouses and missing person cases, less excitement didn't sound like a bad thing.
At least that's what I kept telling myself when what I was really doing was just biding my time until my boy came back. All I had was an agreed-upon weekly email to tell me if my boy was okay. No details just a he's okay. I didn't want to influence him or myself. Part of me didn't care how we met or if the situation made us see something that wasn't there; all I knew was I wanted him. I needed it to be his choice when he was ready to make it. We weren't reciting vows or promising forever, but I wanted a beginning.
A knock sounded at the door, and I yelled for whoever to come in. I wasn't doing well dwelling in my own thoughts. The door swung open, and I groaned. I started to reach under my desk to where my gun was in the holster I attached to the underside.
"No need to start shooting," West said with a snort, and proceeded to make himself at home.
"What the hell are you doing here?" We weren't very friendly, but in the past, I hadn't wanted to shoot him as badly as I did now. Especially since he tried to proposition my boy in that half-assed, crass way of his.
"I'm bored since they fired me and I have plenty of time on my hands."
"I'm sure you could find better things than bothering me."
He seemed to think it over. "Nope."
I ignored him and started going through the messages I'd gotten the night before. It wasn't anything too exciting, but busy work never hurt anyone.
"When are you going to forgive me? I didn't fuck you over. I just followed orders. And if it’s the other thing, all I did was ask your boy to get on his knees, and that was a joke."
"We don't joke about you hitting on a boy I own."
"You own him now? Where is he then?"
"I sent him away to think."
"You were always so noble. What if he finds a less grumpy and considerably more handsome Daddy?"
A deep rumble filled my chest, and I hated someone hitting me below the belt by throwing my own worries in my face. I knew I wasn't the perfect option. Josh was a lot younger, and damn my boy was beautiful, but he had his choice. I'd made sure he had the tools to make wiser decisions when it came to men. I showed him how he should be treated and loved on, and that he didn't need pain. That's all I'd wanted for him, but then my feelings changed, and he became irresistible.
"If that's what he needs, all I want is him to be happy."
"Come on, man, fight for at least one of them. Playtime is all well and good with a temporary fuck, but this one had you by the balls. You're going to give that up for his happiness?"
I knew he didn't get it. He was selfish and manipulative. Sex was nothing more than getting his dick wet then getting out. He had the emotional depth of a sewage-filled puddle. I didn't need to justify anything to him.
"Yeah, why not? He's had enough bastards manipulating and abusing him. I won't gaslight him and force him to come home. When he's ready and sure, he'll come back, or he'll have a nice life with a different set of priorities."
"I swear, sometimes I don't get you." He shook his head and lifted his right leg to rest his ankle on his knee.
"The last woman you fucked was the barely legal daughter of one of your witnesses."
"She was twenty-five, and she just wanted to fuck. We both had an understanding. Inappropriate or not, mutual orgasms were all we wanted."
"And I think there's more than getting off. We'll agree to disagree."
"Oh please, tell me the last person you fucked before Josh? You probably can't even remember their name. Just because you're smoother about it doesn't make it any different."
He got me there. I'd never gone beyond dinner and one night. If that made me an asshole, I'd accept that. But if I didn't see myself going on date number two, what the hell was the point in drawing it out until the other party got hurt? Maybe I should've put in more effort, but I didn't see the point.
"It makes it plenty different, at least I find my pool of fuck partners off the job." I clenched my jaw as he raised a brow and smirked. "Okay, before Josh. But I'm sure you didn't come around to talk about my possibly non-existent relationship. What do you truly want?"
"I need a job."
"Oh no, that's not happening."
"Come on, Yuri, you know I'm a trust fund kid. But dammit, asking my grandfather for it would mean a nine-to-five corporate job. I can't do it. He'd put me in the mailroom to work my way up just to fuck with me."
"Does it look like I'm overwhelmed with jobs?"
"Moffett is throwing your name around. I hear you got an in with a connected attorney." He pointed at the slips of paper in my hand. "And that's a stack of people wanting to hire you. I'll work cheap. I have some savings."
"I'm surprised the bureau hasn't seized your accounts yet."
He snorted. "Like I'd keep that money in my accounts."
"One day you're going to push your luck too far, and someone is going to shoot you."
"You haven't yet, and I've fucked you over pretty badly."
I went through the messages and found a cheating spouse one and tossed it his way. Outlined pricing and expenses, all the things that would pay my bills, but another thought hit me. "Don't fuck the client."
"But what if—"
"Don't. Fuck. The. Client." I enunciated each word to make it clear. "You don't fuck up that job, and we'll talk about it."
"An audition, really? I've been your partner for years, and you're going to do me like this?" He waved around the slip, and I chuckled at the horror on his face.
"Yes, an audition. If everything works out, we'll see about using you on occasion."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you're just trying to get me to leave so you can obsess over your boy."
"No, I just want to get rid of you. Don't mess up that job. Word of mouth makes or breaks a business, and I don't want you thinking with your little head and put me out of business."
I really did want to get rid of him. It was coming up on the end of the day, and I was going to hit Vices for a drink before heading home. He looked like a chastised two-year-old as he stomped out of my office and slammed the door behind him.
I wasn't looking forward to going home. I was sleeping on a thrift store couch in a sleeping bag. I needed to do something. If my boy came home, I had to at least have it ready for him. That meant doing up the guest room too. I wanted him to have a choice if he wanted to be in my bed or do the whole dating thing since we hadn't had the traditional start.
Shit, I needed to stop thinking about him, or I wouldn't make it. I had to remember this was my idea. I removed my weapon from under the desk and slid it into the holster at the small of my back. I concealed it with my t-shirt and grabbed my backpack. With my keys in hand, I left my office and jogged to the street below and walked right into the club.
"Sorenson, you're early today." Kiki, the regular bartender stood tall behind the bar, and it had nothing to do with her six-inch heels.
"Just starting out…not much to keep me busy."
"Your usual?"
"Yes, thanks."
"Not a problem."
She poured me a double of top-shelf bourbon, and she winked as she heavy poured. Her life hadn't dimmed her happiness yet. She was recently divorced and going back to school to finish her degree. She said dancing made her the money, but it was also a way for her to decompress when life was too heavy. She set my drink in front of me and then left me alone to enjoy it.
The music didn't drown out my thoughts or worries. I was forty-five and starting over, but all I wanted was Josh to come back. And that was something out of my control.
Twenty-Eight
Josh
I got out of the car in front of Glittering Vices and stood
there, tipping my head back to look toward the third floor where his office was. I was unsure about being there. Weeks had passed since we’d parted ways at the courthouse, and all those earliest insecurities about us tried to play out in my head. I knew he would’ve come to me to tell me that what he felt was a mistake. He’d have shown me that much respect, but every day, I’d waited.
Vernon was sentenced to ten years and went on trial for the additional attempts against Yuri, West, and myself. He wasn’t going to see the outside anytime soon. Without his Senator daddy’s help, he wasn’t doing well in his little cell fending for himself. He wasn’t exactly up to taking on the other prisoners, and that didn’t bother me in the least. Knowing he was learning what it was to be defenseless and without choices made the years I’d spent with him worth it. I’d put him away, and he couldn’t hurt anyone else. I only regretted that the Senator hadn’t shared the same fate. Although, that was the way the world worked. That was all over now, and it was time for me to start building my life—the life I deserved.
With a deep breath, I took the first step, and the next, each one I told myself he would be happy to see me. I grinned as I took the Help Wanted sign where it was taped on the heavy door and entered the building. I jogged up the stairs to the offices above the strip club and stopped when I reached his door. The age-etched glass had his name stenciled on it. This was it. I lifted my arm and knocked, wondering if I was about to make a fool of myself.
"Come in." Yuri's gruff voice easily traveled through the office door, and I was nervous. I'd spent a month at the compound and going to a therapist three times a week. At first, I'd been hurt when he'd told me I needed to find myself, and when I was ready, I could find him. Arianna had ridden my ass the whole time I was there. Without his influence, I'd started to spiral downward a bit. The confusion became almost more than I could handle.
That's when I'd made a decision and the reason I was standing outside his office. I wanted my Daddy back. And in the end, I understood that he wanted me to make the decision for me and no one else. I'd decided he was the best for me.
I opened the door and smiled to find him sitting behind his desk, his reading glasses on, and he looked sexy as hell. I'd missed him. I leaned my shoulder on the door frame.
"Hello, sir, is the job still open?" I held the help wanted sign between my hands.
He raised his hand and removed his glasses, and then he relaxed back into his desk chair. He carelessly tossed his glasses on the desk, and that stare I remembered seemed to see right through me. I hadn't said a word, but I felt as if all my secrets and failings were on display.
"Do you think you're qualified?"
"I don't know. What are my responsibilities? I'm a quick learner, and I'm not averse to some stern correction."
"Is that right? Do you feel you'll need a lot of correction?"
"Oh yes, I try to be good but sometimes—"
I couldn't help smiling as his laugh slowly built.
"Took you long enough, baby boy."
"Been interviewing other boys to take my position?"
"Lined up around the block to my house."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, wore this old man out."
I knew he was joking, but my jealousy took over, and I gave an unimpressive growl.
"Get your ass over here," he ordered, and patted his desk. He pushed his chair back to open the space in front of him.
I inhaled one more time and walked into his office, closing the door behind me. Before I could go to him, he held up his hand.
"Lock it."
Swallowing hard, I turned the deadbolt and tossed the sign on an empty desk to the right of the door. I cautiously approached, still fearful of what would happen in those next few minutes. While I felt more comfortable in my skin, I'd lost some of the confidence and safety he'd fostered in me in our time together. Sometimes it seemed like a lifetime together, but I knew we'd only spent a month trying to stay alive.
What if he'd changed his mind about me being his boy? That I'd romanticized my Dominant—my Daddy. Things could still so easily get mixed up in my head. I circled around his desk and sat down on the edge, scooting back until my legs were dangling.
"Use your words, baby boy."
"I want to come home."
"And where is home?"
"You are." I saw him readying a protest, but I spoke before he had a chance. "I've been seeing a shrink three times a week since I went back to the compound. My head isn't perfect. I still get confused. I wonder if all my progress will collapse in a single blink. I'm not fixed, and who knows if I ever will be. You told me to take my time and think. To decide what's best for me without pressure or expectation."
"And what did you decide?"
"I want you. Those first few weeks I thought maybe I'd made you into the Prince Charming that swept in to save me."
"And now?"
"Still want you, but I'm scared to death."
"It's okay to be scared. To not know what the hell you're doing. I sure as fuck don't."
"That's encouraging." I rolled my eyes but froze as he moved his chair forward and pushed my thighs open.
"Josh, all I've had is my job. I'm still working on what to do with the rest of my life. So we can deal with what comes next together. It won't be perfect, but we both know this is going to take work. I've never done long-term, and you're going to keep going to therapy. A month isn't long enough to heal everything. In some cases, it's something people need to work on for years."
"I know, and the therapist has an office in the city, and I already set up a weekly appointment."
"Where's your things?"
"In my motel room."
"Why didn't you bring them?"
"I didn't want to presume that I'd be going home with you."
"Silly boy. Now that you’re here, this is what you're going to do…"
He had his left arm around my waist and grabbed a pen and pad with his right hand. He scribbled onto the paper. "This is my address. You're going to go to your motel, check out and go home. You'll start work here Monday, but until then, you'll settle into the house."
"You're not coming with me?"
"No, I have to drop off a few files to finish up a couple cases. You have a few hours to decide if you're going to be settled into my room or the guest room."
"You don't want me in your bed."
He growled as he slipped his hand up to fist in my hair and brought my mouth down on his. I whimpered as it all rushed back. How I loved the tease of his beard. The roughness of his hands as he controlled me. The heat and passion of our one and only morning, loved and fucked in equal measures. I'd thought about it many times after realizing how lonely a bed was without him. Sharing a bed with him had spoiled me in the weeks we'd hid out in our cheap motel room.
"Fuck, baby boy, you stayed away too long." His voice was gruff as he spoke between kisses—his tongue teasing mine. I rubbed my hard dick against his stomach as his fingertips dug almost painfully into my back.
"Daddy," I whimpered as he withdrew and I stared down under heavy-lidded eyes. "The door is locked."
"We're not fucking on my desk. Now that I have you, I'm gonna make sure to take my time. Something we didn't have before."
"Why did I have to get a gentleman Daddy?"
"Don't get used to it. You're going to get brutally fucked plenty."
I whined as I tried to tighten my arms around him and bring him back to where I needed him. Part of the old me that still existed felt a bit of fear at his promise to fuck me. Although through the spankings I'd earned, I'd always felt cleansed afterward. The pain he inflicted was about correction and not abuse. He'd never touched me in anger, only disappointment. He evaded my attempt to make him kiss me again. He just chuckled and leaned to the side, pulling out his wallet.
"Here’s money to get something for dinner. You'll find the keys for your car—"
"My car?"
"You're going to need a safe ride to get around.
" The look he gave me stopped all my protests.
I didn't argue anyway because I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere. Happiness filled me at knowing he'd prepared for me to come back to him. He'd wanted me there even after the month of separation. My Daddy had waited for me.
I took the several twenties he handed me, then the house key he worked off his keyring and shoved them into my pocket. I had money. Arianna gave everyone who left some startup cash until they could get settled.
"The fridge and cabinets are pretty empty. I've been living on a lot of take-out."
"I'll make a list before I go to the store."
He cupped my cheek and stroked the calloused pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. The scar there had faded some, but the thick tissue was still raised. I'd accepted my flaws, embraced the ridges of flesh as proof I'd survived. He'd shown me that my naturally thin frame and scars weren't ugly, but it wasn't until I'd spent time away from him that I'd found myself seeing them for myself in a different light.
It hadn't been easy, and I hadn't fully accepted my body, but I was getting there. He'd helped start the healing process; I knew the rest was up to me to finish.
"Where did you go?"
"There's been so many changes. And I know you helped me with that, but I was mentally reminding myself that I had to finish healing for me."
"You do, but you know I'll be here."
"I do. Okay, I'm going to take care of your orders, and I'll have dinner ready when you get home. Two hours, right?"
"Should be. Give Daddy a kiss before you leave."
I started to lean forward, but he stood, and he gripped my hips to tug my ass to the edge of the desk. His hands slipped beneath my t-shirt, and I tensed at the rough perfection of his fingers and palms on my skin after too long. When his mouth finally touched mine, I forgot to breathe—to think. He could control me with nothing more than a kiss. I couldn't wait until we were alone at his house with nothing between us and no one to interrupt. It felt as if I'd waited a lifetime to finally come home.