by J. M. Dabney
“Miller,” he whispered the man's name.
“I just came because she wanted me.”
Brent reached out to stroke Miller’s soft hair only to stop when Miller flinched. Out of everything Miller could’ve done, a punch to the dick would’ve been less painful. The little man never shied away from his affection.
“How’s my Baby Bella?”
“Papa, I’m ready for bed.”
“I can see that and look at your hair, Grandpa didn’t brush it.”
“You’re ‘pose to do it.” Another eye roll and he’d have to say something to Troy. The little girl was picking up her daddy’s bad habits.
“Oh, that’s right I am, book and hair.” Miller laughed.
Brent held his breath as the man slipped into his bed to sit behind Bella. As if they did it every night, she opened her book, and Miller began to read—funny voices and all. He slowly brushed Bella’s hair. He belonged there in Brent’s bed brushing his—their granddaughter’s hair.
It was weird that Bella thought they were together. He tried to search his memory for instances where they may have acted like a couple. He couldn’t think of any. Although, five-year-olds got weird ideas all the time and his granddaughter had a colorful imagination.
He smiled at a particularly high and very feminine princess voice, and Bella giggled. Moving around the room, he removed his t-shirt and threw it towards the hamper. Brent noticed Miller’s words stuttered then resumed, and he couldn’t help his smug grin. He grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. The lack of sleep was catching up with him, and Bella would get up early—something about six a.m. made her hyperactive. She never failed to hit the floor running before the sun came up.
Quickly getting ready for bed, changed into the cotton sleep pants and teeth brushed, he walked out of the bathroom. Bella’s hair was neatly plaited into two braids over each shoulder, the book abandoned and she curled up on Miller’s lap. Their heads together as they spoke quietly. He paused to listen in.
“I’m not mad at Grandpa, and no we’re not broken up.” Miller laughed softly and hugged her tight.
“But you weren’t here for our night.”
“I can’t be here all the time, but I promise I’ll be here next time. You ready to go to sleep?”
“You’re gonna stay, right?”
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
“Okay.” Bella slid down the bed to lie down, and Miller followed suit. She easily curled up next to him and tucked her head beneath his chin. They looked cute together.
“Let’s make room for Grandpa.” Miller started to move to the side.
“No, stay right there.”
Brent was taking a huge chance, but really it was now or never. He walked around to the opposite side of the bed, lifted the covers and laid down beside Miller. Pushing flush to the younger man’s back, Brent felt him tense yet ignored it. Instead, he rested his arm across Miller and Bella. “Go to sleep, Miller, we’ll talk in the morning.” When Brent said good night to Bella, she jumped up to kiss his cheek then took her place tucked up against Miller. Something about this felt right. He may have never considered that he’d fall for anyone because he was so stuck in his ways, yet Miller was everything he wanted. Now, he needed to convince the younger man to take the chance—hopefully, a chance Brent hadn’t ruined by being a dick. He closed his eyes, moved closer to the slim body in front of his and waited until he felt both Bella and Miller slip to sleep before he allowed himself to drift off.
7
“Papa, Grandpa, wake up.” Forty pounds of hyped-up little girl jumped on the bed, and Miller groaned pulling the covers back over his head. How could he forget the six a.m. wake-up call named Isabella? She took off toward the steps and Miller hoped Brent remembered the juice boxes or he was going to be cleaning up the floor shortly.
“You know she’s not going to let us sleep in.” Brent’s voice rumbled, and Miller’s eyes flew open. A bristly cheek rubbed the side of his throat then the back of his neck, and a huge hand stroked along his hip and thigh.
“I can’t believe I didn’t go home,” Miller moaned.
His plan was to get up after Bella fell asleep and head home because he didn’t want to have the talk with Brent. Yet, there he was with Brent pushed flush to his back, his muscled body warm and comfortable. Wow, this was going to be a monumental mistake, a painful one at that. Now that Miller was awake, he found himself painfully aware of the thick ridge between his cheeks and the tender stroke of fingertips across his stomach.
“You needed sleep, and we wanted you here.”
“Brent, I should—” The kiss behind his ear shut him up.
“You’re going to stay. We have to talk and get a few things straight.” When firm lips pressed to his ear, Miller shivered. “I’ve been a cranky bastard. Let me make it up to you.”
Oh, that sounded too good.
“Please look at me.”
Miller couldn’t resist the plea in the older man’s voice, and when he turned over, Brent’s mouth came down on his. “What—” The question was muffled by Brent’s lips. Fuck, Brent’s tongue traced over his lips, and his dick went from uncertain to extremely happy.
“You don’t know how long I’ve thought of this.” The rumble in Brent’s voice and the calloused hand curving around the back of his thigh froze the question in his throat.
“Grandma, Grandpa and Papa aren’t getting up.” Bella’s disgusted tone broke the moment and Miller laid his forehead to Brent’s in an attempt to catch his breath.
“Leave them alone, and we’ll go make breakfast. I’m sure they’ll be up soon.” The last sentence was pitched louder in warning, and then he listened to the heavy steps disappearing downstairs.
Now they were all alone, and he needed to get up. Escape was vital because he wasn't strong enough to resist the sexy, older man.
“Good morning,” Brent growled out the words.
Brent's big hand was beneath the leg of his pants and stroking upward. Brent thrust a monstrous cock against his belly as the man's big hand completely cupped his naked ass cheek.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought I was playing with my boy. The sight of you in my clothes is too fucking sexy. I want to see you out of them. Now.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He barely resisted letting Brent have whatever he wanted. With more willpower than he thought he possessed, he rolled to the other side of the bed, but the older man's hand circled his ankle. He was trapped.
“Wait, what?”
Brent surged across the bed. Brent shoved his shirt out of the way and licked up his stomach, then bit at his nipple. All he wanted to do was spread his thighs and let the big man have whatever he wanted.
“Brent, what are you—” He moaned loudly as Brent tortured his other nipple. “Stop, stop.” He covered his face and tried to ignore the rough chuckling that preceded a sharp nip beneath his belly button. When Brent rubbed his face over his hard-on through his pajama bottoms, he nearly came in his fucking pants.
“This is so unfair.”
“Me wanting to get you off is unfair? I haven't been out of the dating game long enough to think getting your partner off before breakfast was unfair.”
Brent rested his weight on top of him and his thighs spread wide to accommodate Brent's bulk.
“That was Brenda here the other day?”
“Yep, and if you hadn't run from me, you would've known that.”
He felt stupid now that he'd gotten all hurt about Brent's college girlfriend visiting. He knew the woman was married to a very nice lady. Troy had told him that, but all he'd seen was the back of the woman. What was he supposed to think?
“All I saw was a half-naked woman in your house.”
“Jealous, I like that.”
“Quit being an asshole.”
“Aw, does my boy want to be loved on? I can take care of that.”
“Are you high?”
His voice was nearly a screech, and he wasn’t appreciating Brent’s obvious amusement.
“If you'd let me get up, we could have a quickie and then shower together. Don't tell me the thought of being on my cock doesn't make you want to say yes.”
“Yes, no, no.” He let his head hang off the bed and realized his mistake too soon when the bed dipped then he heard the door slam. Brent was back and stripping him. His shirt was around his neck, and his pants were trapped around his ankles. Brent's mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere. “You're torturing me on purpose.”
“I do like a bit of pain, but it needs a nice edge of pleasure too.”
He couldn't even come up with some smart comment because suddenly his clothes were gone, Brent's shirt was nowhere in sight, and warm, hairy skin was pressed down on him. The man was kissing him and then moving downward, nipping at his skin. He couldn't seem to get his thighs wide enough. He was spread across the bed and unable to catch his breath, then he forgot that he needed oxygen at all when Brent started sucking his cock.
Brent was growling and bobbing along his dick while pinching his overly-sensitive nipples. The man he'd loved for more than half his life was loving on him so good. He fisted his hands in Brent's coarse hair, and all he could think about was coming. He didn't even have time to warn Brent before his body was arching and he was coming down the man's throat. He moaned as Brent was kissing him and he tasted himself on the man's tongue. It was so much better than the kiss they shared at the party—more intense.
At the corner of his mind he heard a drawer opening, and suddenly he was manhandled to his hands and knees. Brent's cock was long and thick, curved just a bit in an upward angle. The tip dripping copious amounts of pre-cum, and he made a choked sound in his throat as Brent painted his lips with his cock.
“Now, open those pretty plump lips and show Daddy how much you like sucking his cock.”
He obeyed without hesitation, and Brent thrust shallowing between his lips. He squeaked around Brent's dick as cold lube trickled down his crack and the big man was playing with his hole. As he sucked Brent's fat dick, Brent finger-fucked him with two thick fingers. He'd always hated being small. It set him up as a target, but Brent fucking his mouth and ass at the same time was amazing.
It was burning pressure with just the right bite of pain. He moaned and repeatedly swallowed around Brent's flared head.
“Fuck, Daddy's good boy.”
Brent rewarded him with a tangy burst of pre-cum and hard smacks to his ass cheeks. When he opened wider for the older man, Brent started to fuck his face in short, hard snaps. He was fucking himself between the fingers and cock, suspended in pleasure he'd never reached before. Before Brent nothing existed—no one else had owned him. His Daddy was it.
A harsh sound made him freeze, and he heard the sexiest words ever. “Daddy's going to come, boy.”
He let Daddy do what he wanted. His cock hardening again and then he choked on cum hitting the back of his throat. He barely controlled himself before Brent was hugging his head to his groin and shooting in spurts. Brent's big hand was massaging his stretched and aching hole.
He was pulled to a kneeling position, and the claiming of his mouth was rough and sweet. Strong hands stroked his back, gentle compared to the way the big man had fucked his mouth moments earlier.
“I've waited so long, been good for years. Let me take you on a date.”
“We just fucked, isn't asking me on a date sort of backwards?”
“Your Daddy couldn't resist.”
He shivered at the words. He hadn't admitted to anyone he'd wanted a Daddy or that Brent was the only one that would fit. He'd always called Brent Daddy and hoped it came across as a joke, but had Brent known?
“Do you want to be my boy?”
“Uh huh.”
“Then fucking say it.”
“Yes, Daddy, I want to be your boy.” Brent's sudden grip on his hair stung his scalp.
“Then I'm taking my boy on a date.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Keep saying it in that sweet way, and you're gonna find yourself on my dick in the shower.”
“But, Daddy.” All tension left his body, happiness and contentment made him cuddle closer to Brent.
Brent knee walked off the bed and then scooped him into strong, thick arms. He accepted more kisses as Brent placed him on the counter and started the shower.
Brent's body was all hair-roughened, bulky muscles and he loved looking at his muscled ass. He imagined what it would look like flexing as the big man fucked him. He laughed as Brent picked him back up and stepped under the hot spray and he tipped his head back.
“Don't tease Daddy. We can play more when we have the house to ourselves.”
The only answer he could give was a quick nod as Brent started washing his hair, then every inch of his body. Then played briefly around his hole with soapy fingers. He was painfully hard but knew they didn't have time to take care of that. For the time being, he let Brent wash his body and then he reciprocated. Once they were clean and ready for socializing, he was turned on again and couldn't wait to be alone with his Daddy.
8
He had second, third, hell, fifth thoughts about what had happened between him and Miller. It wasn't regret because he loved his little man, but the time hadn't come for him to confess it yet. They had their first date that night, and he was checking his reflection. His beard was trimmed and oiled, his wavy hair neatly combed.
His little man was beautiful and outgoing, fancy restaurants and he was a homebody, happy with a cold beer. The twenty-year age difference apparent and he wondered if he could hold his boy's attention. He straightened his tie and turned away from the mirror. On the way to his bedroom door, he snagged his leather jacket.
Brenda had left the day before, and she'd made sure to tell him to keep his head out of his ass. He snorted as her disgusted expression flashed in his head. When him and Miller had entered the kitchen, his old friend had given him a knowing and approving look.
He was worried about his son's reaction. Troy and Miller had been friends since high school. At the halfway point of his life, he didn't anticipate finding love and claiming a man a lot younger than himself.
He made sure the house was locked up, and everything was turned off, then exited. Jogging to his truck, excitement at seeing Miller took over. They'd exchanged texts and bedtime phone calls but hadn't seen each other. During their talks, the strong urge to invite Miller back to his bed became almost too much. He couldn't do it because he needed his boy to know this was more than sex
The drive to Miller's place didn't take long, and within half an hour, he was knocking on the man's door. His little man was all bright smiles and twinkling blue eyes.
“Hey, baby.” He slipped his arm around Miller's trim waist and gave him a quick kiss.
“You're early. Come on in.”
The man stepped back to allow him inside. It had been years since he'd visited Miller's home. The apartment was neat and homey—a place you could just relax. He closed the door behind him.
Miller's nervousness was unmistakable. He let his gaze move over his boy, taking in the pink dress shirt and navy slacks that hugged Miller's lean legs. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks. You're not too bad yourself.”
“So glad you approve.”
“Where are we going?”
“That Irish Pub you mentioned you wanted to try out a few months back.”
“Great, I haven't made it there yet. Let me grab my jacket, and we can get going.”
His hand shot out to circle Miller's wrist and stopped his boy from disappearing. “Boy?” He couldn't allow his boy's nervousness to take over and ruin the start of their night. He felt the tug at the corner of his lips as he smiled when his boy seemed to relax.
“Yes, Daddy?”
He pulled his boy to his side then kissed Miller's soft hair. “Tell me what's wrong? I can't make it better if you're not honest with me.”
“Nothing is wrong. This is just our first date, and I've thought about this a lot.”
“How long?”
He wanted to know how long they'd thought about a relationship between them and if it was the same for Miller. He didn't want to think he'd suffered alone with the attraction for each other. It was almost embarrassing how long he'd wanted Miller as his own. All the months he'd suffered through treatment and the sleepless nights fighting sleep unsure if he'd awaken. He'd savored every touch his boy gave him. The soft stroke of Miller's fingertips always soothed him when his insides felt like they were on fire. Miller had been there through the sickness caring for him without complaint. Every apology he'd whispered to Miller and the man's only answer a beautiful smile and a soft kiss to his brow. How the fuck could he resist falling in love with a man who gave him so much while expecting nothing in return?
“Since I discovered my best friend's dad was sexy as fuck and drove my best friend crazy with my crush.”
“Troy knows?”
Miller tipped his head back and wore his brattiest grin.
“How much have you traumatized my poor son?”
“So, so, so much.”
He cupped Miller's adorable face in his hands and kissed him, his boy's hands came to rest on his biceps. That was all it took, he turned Miller and backed him to the nearest wall.
“Years, I've thought about turning those flirty kisses of yours into something else.”
“You did?” Miller's question was breathy, and his voice trembled a bit.
He could see the need in his boy's eyes, also a hint of insecurity. He didn't like that it was there and he took Miller's waist in his hands, lifting him off the ground. The groan that slipped from between Miller’s lips was unrestrained and filled with need. Lean yet strong legs twined around his waist. He loved the feel of his boy's body writhing against his. His tongue teased Miller's lips and when his boy opened for him, he took advantage.