Rue took hold of my cup of coffee and plopped it right in front of me. “Drink up, Master Ashton. It’s just the alcohol talking. You’ll forget this ridiculous conversation when you wake up tomorrow.”
Chapter One
Callum
“Hey, man, someone’s here to see you.”
I glanced up from the cling wrap I was putting over the pineapple slices to keep them fresh and took in my best friend and business partner, Phillip, who had just entered the kitchen area. His face was suffused with color from laughter he was obviously holding in. The telltale signs were there in his crinkly eyes, the twitching of his lips, and his puffy cheeks.
“What the hell is up with you?” I asked, securing the cling wrap, then taking the slices of pineapple to the cooler.
“What do you mean? I'm just here to deliver the message. You're wanted at the counter.”
“Yeah? By whom? Delivery guy’s not coming in until tomorrow.”
He shrugged. “He didn't give his name, but he looks quite desperate to have you.”
I closed the cooler and pointed at Phillip. “I swear, man, if this is one of your pranks, I'm taking your wife out, and you know she won't say no.”
He finally let out the laugh he had been struggling to keep in. “While you're at it, why don't you do me a solid and take the kids too?”
I shook my head at him, only slightly annoyed at his goofing. His wife would be up for a night out, but it wouldn't lead to extra entertainment. Noelle had been on his case a lot lately for her husband to quit the café for one day and take her out. She would love to be taken out by just about anyone, but her heart and body always belonged to her husband.
“Take that as a hint, dickhead,” I told him as I headed for the door. “Noelle called me earlier today, threatening to bring the kids down here if you don't take a day off to spend with her and the kids.”
“I'll take a day off when you do.”
“I don't have a family waiting on me to haul my ass home, Phillip.”
“Which is just tragic, Cal. Why don't you give that young man a chance? He's been here almost every day for a month now crushing on you. You should be grateful someone so young and good-looking wants to put up with your crabbiness.”
I scowled at him, not particularly wanting to discuss the young man I'd overheard his driver addressing as Master Ashton on one of their frequent visits. Master Ashton? There was nothing dominant about the boy. He practically had begged to be my submissive the first time we met. The look in his eyes, his body language…It was all there.
Fuck. If he was so bold on the first night I laid eyes on him, I didn’t want to think about what he would do if I ever gave in to him.
Since the first night we met, his flirting had grown with every day he stopped by the café. I should have put a stop to it already. The boy didn't know when he'd had too much to drink, and I didn't want that complication in my life. Still, his persistence was a bit endearing. If you were into that sort of thing, which I wasn't.
“There's a stupid suggestion if ever I heard one,” I remarked. “I have two words for you, Phil—”
“I know. I know,” he said before I could finish. “Mario Webber.”
“Exactly. Need I say more?”
The stupid grin on his face turned into a frown. “No, you don’t have to, but I can. It's been two years, Callum. Two fucking years.”
“There's not enough time in the world to have me make the same mistake.”
With that said, I exited the kitchen and entered the main area behind the counter. Usually, things were slow at this time of the afternoon, and I could replenish our supplies and wipe down the tables for our next wave of customers with the late evening crowd. Phillip and I rotated the duty at the cash register so we didn’t have to stay in one spot all day. By my estimate, though, we might have to hire at least a part-time worker to help us out soon. Business was going even better than we’d anticipated when we came up with this joint venture.
“Hey, Mr. Callum.”
That voice. I’d know it anywhere after listening to it order the same cup of coffee, our Libertine, almost every day. I knew his routine like clockwork. On Monday, he stopped by at ten for almost an hour, books spread out on whatever table he occupied as he tried to make up for the weekend of partying. I usually got a break from him on Tuesday, but he was always back on Wednesday at the same time as Monday. Sometimes he brought friends with him and pretended to study when what they really did was gossip. And on Friday and Saturday night, he usually staggered in after too much partying, his disapproving driver with him.
One would have thought that with knowing his routine so well, I’d have been better at avoiding him. All I needed to do was switch my cash register time with Phillip whenever he was due in.
But that meant I would miss seeing what outrageously revealing and tight outfit he had on that day or the way his eyes lit up when he caught his first glimpse of me over the counter. Or the way he insisted I doodled little hearts on his coffee cup. Every single time. He asked for four hearts, and I gave him five. I had no idea why. Or maybe I did know but refused to face the truth.
I was the picture of calm as I turned and greeted the young man who leaned against the counter, staring back at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile. Inside, I groaned, even though I was positive he couldn’t see anything else but the stoic man who rebuffed and spurned every attempt of his to get me to take him to bed. To permit him to call me Daddy.
Never again.
“Hi, yourself, kid.” I always called him kid as a barrier between us to remind him of how much younger than me he was. Damn if it worked, though. It seemed to have the opposite effect on him.
Today he looked exceptional, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was well dressed as usual. Today he made tweed look good. Fashionably skinny tweed pants hugged his ass, which I could see clearly from the way he leaned against the counter. His tight-fitting shirt had several buttons undone, showing off his hairless chest.
Something about him was different, though. His eyes gleamed more than usually, his cheeks were flushed, even in this cooler weather, and he shifted from feet to feet restlessly.
I frowned at him, instantly thinking the worse. Was he high? The rate at which he drank, I wouldn’t be surprised to find he enjoyed shooting up. The very thought left my mouth bitter and dry.
“Guess what today is?” he asked.
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “The day you finally decide to leave me alone?”
He laughed. “No, silly. I’m this many.” He flashed me all ten fingers twice followed by his index finger.
“It’s your birthday?” So that was the reason he looked so excited. I almost sighed in relief.
“Yup,” he replied, staring at me expectantly.
“Then coffee’s on the house,” I told him, moving off to get the coffee he always ordered.
“Big plans today, huh?” I asked him as I made his coffee. I liked mine black, but his coffee was mixed with coconut milk flavored with just a hint of vanilla and almond. He’d once whispered to me that coconut was one of his favorite flavors, all while licking his lips and giving me his dreamy eyes. Damn, he knew how to lay it on thick.
“Big plans tonight,” he said but didn’t elaborate.
And I didn’t bother to ask further. Seriously, the guy was none of my business. He was nothing but a regular customer at the coffee shop. Nothing more. His business kept me in business. If he wanted to mix drugs, drink himself into a stupor, and get fucked tonight, it was his problem, not mine. I’d endured my fair share, and it was high time I stayed away from all the drama.
I doodled the five hearts onto his coffee cup, this time scribbling a happy birthday message beneath, followed by the name of the coffee shop. I handed him the coffee cup, and he turned the container until he found the doodle.
I never thought he could light up even more than he already was. His smile, his personali
ty, made him so likable that I never quite worked up the nerve to tell him to stay away from the coffee shop, which I should have done the second he’d made his intention toward me known.
“‘Happy birthday, and be safe,’” he read aloud. His face softened as he returned his eyes to me. “Thank you. I’ll try to be, but I know what’s better than being safe.”
I had every opportunity to excuse myself and head back into the kitchen. It was Phillip’s turn to work the cash register, but he’d tricked me into coming out to see Ashton. I stood rooted to the spot, though, held there by curiosity.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
He plucked something out of his pants pocket and placed it on the counter at my hand. “You can come to my birthday party and be my da-chaperone,” he said, his voice low and breathy. “You know, keep me out of trouble unless it’s the kind that involves us both.”
“Keep dreaming, kid,” I told him, ignoring the card.
He pouted. “Well, that’s not nice. I thought Daddies kept their word to their boys. You did tell me a month ago that on my next birthday, I should hit you up.”
While he was right, I’d never counted on him still being around for his next birthday. I thought he’d have given up long before now. “But you’re forgetting something. You’re not my boy, and I’m not your Daddy.”
Ashton leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t know what you’re afraid of Mr. Callum, but I promise I can be a really good boy. I just need the right Daddy to make being good worthwhile. I wish that were you, but I can’t force you. Whatever you don’t accept, I’m sure another man somewhere out there will appreciate.”
He stepped away from the counter, and I fought with myself not to go after him. I clutched the edge of the counter and just stared after that slender back and that perky ass of his in those ridiculous tweed pants with the cuffs rolled up his ankle, showing off a gold anklet.
If only I had the right to ruin him for any other man. I’d have liked to hear him promise not to give what was mine to anybody else unless I authorized it. I’d have liked to mark his asshole with my cock, to trail kisses down the curvature of his spine, to caress the—
“So, how did it go?”
I startled out of my thoughts at Phillip’s presence behind me. I swept the card Ashton had left behind off the counter and pocketed it as I turned. If Phillip knew Ashton had asked me to his birthday party, he’d try to convince me to go, but if I went, I might as well tattoo his name over my heart, which was never going to happen.
“How do you think?” I mumbled, striding back to the doors leading into the kitchen. “Stop pushing that kid on me, Phillip. You know as much as I do that it will never happen.”
And I’d never attend some stupid twenty-first birthday rite of passage party. I imagined all the rich, spoiled friends of his being at the party. Definitely not my crowd to hang out with.
I dug the card out my pocket and perused the shiny expensive black material that made the invitation. When I read where his birthday party was taking place, I swore and stuffed the card back into my pocket.
I had tried the clubbing scene before, but I had learned soon after that it wasn’t the kind of life for me. I craved normalcy, not chaos, and that was all I’d get just from thinking about Ashton.
Chapter Two
Ashton
“Oh, dear!”
I rolled my eyes at the dramatic cry of alarm. Ava was one of the servants who had been employed by my family long before I was even born. Upon hearing the knock on my bedroom door, I’d absentmindedly called for the person to enter, but at Ava’s horrified look as she took in my birthday party outfit, I shouldn’t have let her come in.
“Well, don’t have a heart attack, Ava,” I told her, snatching my black sequined jacket off the bed and shrugging it on to make me appear half-decent.
“Me?” she squawked, clutching the rosary beads she always wore around her neck. “What about your poor dear mother? Master Ashton, she will not approve!”
“Come on, Ava, it’s my birthday,” I said. I stalked over to my bed and plucked my credit card from my wallet. My shorts were so tight there was no place to put it. On second thought, I removed the condom as well and wedged it in with the slim card. A boy couldn’t be too careful.
“It will be the birthday you killed your mother,” she protested, hands fingering the rosary beads.
“Mother’s tougher than she looks,” I retorted. “I assume she sent her birthday wishes through you?”
“She asks that you meet her in the drawing room before you go out.” She dubiously eyed my outfit once more. “You might want to reconsider a change of clothing before you do so.”
“Thank you for the concern, Ava,” I saidand gave her a hug and a kiss on her forehead. “I know you mean well, but I simply don’t have the time to change. I’m already late for my own party.”
Damn my indecisive ass. I had wanted to get to the club on time so I could watch the entrance from one of the higher levels. I wanted to spot Callum when he came to my party. At least I hoped he would. The possibility had me going through my clothes too many times, discarding one outfit for another as I tried to pick out something flattering.
“You’re a good boy at heart, Master Ashton.” Ava patted my shoulder. “If only you didn’t try to pretend otherwise.”
Shaking my head, I walked past her to the stairs. Ava still saw the innocent little boy I had been and not the curious, sexually explorative man I had become. It no longer interested me to enlighten her or my mother.
I hurried down the grand winding staircase, but I lost some of my cool on the landing. My mother wasn’t necessarily a terrifying woman, but I hated the way she made me feel like a disappointment after every conversation I had with her. I had been hoping to head out before she even realized I was gone.
“You summoned me, mother?” I asked, striding into the drawing room with mock confidence. If I showed her the slightest crack in my veneer, she would use it to her advantage.
Julia Keyes rose to her feet at my entrance, her reading glasses perched on her nose. She was a petite woman at five feet two inches, and I had always blamed her for my own short stature and inability to beef up like the guys I went to high school with. Over the years, I had come to appreciate my more slender and delicate built. The right guys knew exactly what to do with my frame, and I had quickly learned that many men out there were after a fun-sized guy.
Mother brushed at her flawless blonde hair, which she always wore in a lob, her intelligent blue eyes roaming my outfit. I braced myself for the disapproval she always voiced, prepared to feed her noncommittal responses after which she usually gave up when she realized I wasn’t really processing her words.
“Going out?” she asked, staring at my stockings beneath my short shorts.
“It’s my birthday, Mother.” She’d likely forgotten, given she hadn’t once wished me a happy birthday. I tried not to be hurt, but it stung nonetheless. “My friends and I have plans.”
“Plans that include you dressing up like a hooker? And not even an expensive one at that,” she fired at me.
I groaned, closing my hands into fists. “I’m old enough to choose what I want to wear and whenever I want to wear it, Mother. I am not looking for your approval.” Not anymore.
“Well, if you were, you wouldn’t have it,” she said. “Not the way you’ve been carrying on as if you don’t have responsibilities.”
“Is that all, Mother?”
Her face went red, and her shoulders rose before she shook her head and let her shoulders drop. “I don’t even know why I try anymore. You’re nothing like your brother.”
I closed my eyes and bowed my head. Those words again. Nobody had expected me to be like Jake until he died. Now all she wanted was for me to replace her dead son, and as much as I had tried, I couldn’t.
“I’ll be going out,” I said. “Have a good evening, Mother.”
I stalked from the
room, turned the corner sharply, and headed for the front door. The hall seemed to stretch forever. I kept my eyes straight ahead, ignoring the dead stare from the paintings that lined the walls. I couldn’t wait to get out of the suffocating house.
I yanked the door open harder than necessary and slammed it shut behind me. Rue was already waiting for me by the car parked in the driveaway. He jerked upright when I approached, and his smile turned into a frown.
“Is everything okay, Master Ashton?”
“Everything is as usual,” I answered, not breaking my stride. He hurried to catch up with me and held the door open.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, sir, but you look rather upset.”
I forced a smile and patted his cheek affectionately. He was the one who never judged my behavior. He’d gotten out of the car and looked the other way while I lost my virginity to some unimportant guy in the back seat. Not once had he called me a hooker for it. I wished I could say the same for my mother, but I couldn’t.
“It’s the night of my birthday,” I said. I had things to do and people to see. The thought of running into Callum at the club brightened my mood. “The night’s just about ready to begin, Rueben.”
“Well, I’ll be here as your ride in case you need to leave.”
“You’re a good man, Rue,” I said, sliding into the back of the car.
I pushed my mother and our conversation from my mind, determined not to let them ruin my night . Instead, I considered Callum and whether he would come to my party. If he showed up, there would be no more need for pretense between us. I wouldn’t have to agonize so much over how he felt about me. If he came, he would be doing so because of me.
That thought kept me in high spirits all the way to the club. I didn’t even want to think of the possibility of him not showing up. Just this once, I wanted everything to go my way. If all went according to plan, tomorrow morning, I’d be climbing out of Callum’s bed with my ass tender from his loving.
Spoiled Perfection Page 2