He’s still tearing me up.
Why do I care? He’s probably an out-of-towner who needed a fix, a bedmate for the night, something fun to tell his friends when he goes home. They don’t come often. There isn’t much up in Valley West, but it happens.
He didn’t even tell me his name.
My little prince is enigmatic, nothing I’ve experienced before. Hard and soft, a perfect blend of the two, creating a harmony I didn’t realize I need until now.
I sit on the wooden pallets in the farthest part of the room and just relive our moments. The shared breaths. Moans. My mouth on him. His body painted with my hands, tongue, and teeth.
Not once in all the times I’ve been with a man did I feel the connection my blue-haired sad boy and I shared. He had to have felt it, too. It burned too bright to ignore. It festers even now. He’s only been gone for twenty minutes top, yet it feels like a wisp of memory. His scent still wafts in the room, keeping his memory perfunctory, but that’s all he left. Did he have secrets, too? Ones that forced him out the door?
Would he have stayed if I told him we could meet up again? That even though we only just met and fucked I wanted it to be a permanent thing?
What’s wrong with me?
I drink and drink until the bottle of Jaeger is long gone and spots line my vision. By the time I wake up, my back is sore. My neck feels like it stayed angled wrong too long, and the music from the bar is dead. Shuffling out of the room, I spot a note on the door.
Bossman,
We figured you needed the sleep. Locked up, and left the key in the lockbox outside.
See you tomorrow.
- The coolest employees ever
If my soul didn’t feel so detached from my body, I would laugh. Landon, the smart ass. He had to have written the note. Sandra would’ve smacked me into awareness. She isn’t one to let it slide when anyone drinks on the job.
This hasn’t happened since Whit and I had the conversation. The drinking only truly happened because of the guilt of making her stay so long in a romance-less marriage. It drove me to be less of a man for a while.
Now, I’m foggy, hungover, and cotton-mouthed beyond belief. Unlocking my cell, I notice several texts from my daughter.
Dad? You okay? You said you’d be late, but it’s like five in the morning.
I’m calling Sandra.
I searched the entire house, even your mini man cave in the back. Where are you?
Sandra said you got wasted. That’s so unlike you. Talk to me. What’s wrong?
I’m guessing you haven’t woken up. I’ll wait for you.
Nausea claws its way up my throat, making me heave before I race to the bathroom. I stumble through the door, getting to the sink before hurling up all the liquid in my stomach. That’s all there is. Booze. Did I even remember to eat yesterday? It was a busy day, and duties needed fulfilling… Jesus.
Wiping my mouth, I rinse the sink and mentally chastise myself for the choices I’ve made in the last twenty-four hours. Then, I gargle with some water to clear the alcoholic burn frothing in my throat.
Checking the time, I see it’s nine in the morning. Fuck, I’m such a bad father. Flipping the water to cold, I splash it on my face, hoping to get out of this fog of sadness and culpability. After a few deep breaths, I try collecting myself.
Prim’s going to ask so many questions.
What the hell do I say?
“Hey, princess, I think I met my soul mate last night. Oh, and here’s the kicker. It’s a guy. I’m gay. Sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been in the closet my entire life. Great conversation.”
Yeah, this fucking sucks. No matter the turn of events, it won’t bode well for me.
I drive home on autopilot, hoping to get a shower before her friend stops by. Hopefully, he isn’t there already. That would be embarrassing for me and her. How do I grill the dude who may have bad intentions when I can’t even admit to my daughter that I’m not into women? She’s going to flip. My only wish is that she didn’t really stay up the entire night. She’s a worrier, never willing to back down on the ones she loves.
What a snafu.
Texas
I’ve never run from a situation faster. He wanted my name, and I fucking booked it while he went to get us a drink. Maybe it’s being a closeted gay or the fact that he could tell Prim since her dad owns the place. Either way, fear took over me in an instant. There’s a less than zero chance I’ll forget our time together. His possessive hands are engraved on more than just my skin. How do you get a connection from one simple chance encounter? It’s like fate. We met and found each other, but we both didn’t end up together.
They never claimed fate wasn’t cruel.
Bartender was not only my first. He left his mark in more than one way.
After staring at myself for an insanely long time in the mirror of the little inn, I jerked off several times just to ease the tension rolling off me in waves.
My body has many colors. All are beautiful and all from a man with more experience than I have. I’m such a piece of shit. He cared. Anyone could tell. I’m not sure why, but I cared too. Even with us barely meeting, you couldn’t hide the way his eyes held me up and that nickname…
Little prince.
My body warms at the memory.
I didn’t sleep at all, unable to get the memory of us together and, to top it off, how I left. It shouldn’t bother me that we’re strangers and had a one-night stand of sorts, but somehow, it does. This hasn’t happened to me ever. Not a single soul in this shitty town has ever caught my attention, yet the single time I walked into that bar, lost and confused, a man as big and as powerful as him gave me a simple look and stole my soul in one night.
Now, as I head to Prim’s house on zero sleep, feeling like shit, I hope I make a decent impression on her pops. I’m also praying she can’t somehow tell where and how my night was spent. I’ve literally got hickeys and bruises all over from Bartender. He took and gave and made me want the touch of no one else but him ever again.
I’ll have to come up with some story just in case she asks, a lie to somehow not get a job with him. How would that work? My being employed by my best friend’s father while employed by that man? It won’t work. I’ll be a mess, and they’ll all know something is up.
Instead of my cut-off shirts, I wear a black Falling in Reverse hoodie with their last tour on the back and Everybody’s on Drugs on the front. Probably not the smartest move when I’m going to meet someone who I need to make a good impression on, but it’s my good luck shirt.
If I show my neck at all, she would know. The only thing helping is the fact that the jacket covers most of my chest-to-neck area. Even still, there are colors everywhere. Marks. Tattoos from his mouth. My jeans, like usual, are ripped and skinny, and I’m topped with a beanie over my blue locks, hoping it will distract her from the hickeys under my ear where he wouldn’t stop caressing, sucking, and owning.
That’s what he did.
He owned every part of me last night.
Seems like he hasn’t quite let me go, either.
As soon as I’ve arrived at Prim’s, the anxiety comes rushing back. Everything depends on whether this man accepts me. My own father wouldn’t, so why would this complete stranger?
Her Tesla is parked in the drive. A huge truck that looks like it’s meant to be in a competition is parked next to it. I wonder if he has something to make up for with such an unnecessarily large vehicle. That’s what they always say, at least.
Parking on the curbside of their house, I breathe out a shaky sigh. It’s full of angst, despair, and a lot of desperation.
My mind travels to where life will lead if this plan doesn’t work. I wonder how long it’ll take for my dad to turn off my phone. I’ll have to get a new plan. School starts soon, and I’m nowhere near being prepared. Luckily, the deadlines for financial aid happened last winter, or I’d be shit out of luck for money. Valley West doesn’t have on-campus dorms like normal u
niversities. The housing is through a nearby complex. It’s way too expensive. Staying with Prim and her dad will save me.
If it happens, at least.
Their house is much bigger than Prim made it seemed. It’s modern, and the bottom half of the house is layered in stones—river rocks, I think. The top almost looks tiled in slabs. Its cool gray tones and shuttered windows make it appear as the perfect house. The front door and garage one are both black, and the pillars leading to the entrance give it a grander appeal. Prim never said her dad was loaded.
As I raise my hand to knock, the door opens. Her cotton candy pink hair greets me. It’s in piggy tail braids today. Her face is makeup-free, which is a nice change. She usually goes for a glowing angelic appearance, but her fresh face shows her natural beauty and charming freckles.
“Hey,” I say, my voice sleepy, almost too dragged out.
She smiles. “Hey, yourself. You look exhausted, Tex.”
I chuckle at the way she scrunches her nose. “Didn’t sleep.”
“Me either. We’ll match.” She yawns, covering it as she moves to let me in. “Dad’s in the shower. He’ll be out soon. Coffee?”
I nod, even though my body is tingling with more nerves than my fingertips have. While she makes the coffee, I sit in an anxious stupor, waiting for something to blow up. That’s how my life always works.
“What are you doing here?” I hear his gravelly voice sound out from nearby.
Jerking my head, I gape, and my heart stops.
It must be a trick. I left him last night. Am I asleep? Drunk? My eyes rake his frame. He’s in a buttoned-up shirt, and his near-black hair is wet and sexy, little wisps flicking in every direction. He looks as exhausted and as sad as I feel.
His amber eyes meet mine.
Lifeless. Loveless. Pissed.
Wondering if I’m imagining things, I shake my head, which causes my hair to reveal part of my throat. A growl rumbles from my bartender.
“Oh! Daddy, looks like you’ve met Tex.” She’s holding two mugs in her hand, giving one to me and one to him.
It hits me that she just called him Daddy. Daddy? My eyes must look like fucking saucers because he offers a clipped nod, and I’m trying to hide my neck in the next breath.
“Daddy, this is Texas Silver. Tex, this is Devin Loveless. My dad.”
Devin. That’s my bartender’s name. Not bartender… Owner.
I swallow. It’s more like a dry sand-papery gulp, forcing a discomfort able pang and a soft hum to burst through my body simultaneously.
He hasn’t stopped glaring, and his gaze is pointed at where he touched me last night. It’s like he’s angry but possessive. There’s this greedy and envious look in his eyes that has me shifting from foot to foot. It’s like he’s tearing off my clothes but choking me while he does it. I can’t tell if I’m terrified or aroused. Both? my treacherous mind offers.
“Hello,” I try, failing at sounding normal. Putting my hands in my pockets, I watch as his attention roams lower, and I’m praying that he can’t see the stiffness I’m hiding.
Prim smacks her dad’s chest lightly, not noticing his steely expression is for me because of last night and not for reasons she’s probably shuffling through.
“Don’t be rude, Daddy.” He hands her his cup and steps toward me. Too close. Too fucking close. T-Too… close.
She doesn’t know I’m gay.
A shiver goes through me. With him so close, I’m ten times tenser than before.
“Hello, little prince,” he whispers low enough for only me to hear.
My dick jumps in my pants, straining against the fabric, wanting its master. His hot, heated body somehow emanates into mine, making me feel so many things I’m not allowed to feel about my best friend’s dad.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he rumbles grumpily, loudly, wanting Prim to hear. “Primrose has said a lot about you.”
“I-I, uh,” I stumble over a response. “She has?”
“Daddy! Don’t be embarrassing,” she hisses from behind him.
He steps away from me, giving me a look that isn’t decipherable. His face almost seems pained when she pulls me into her arms. She kisses my cheek, and it takes everything in me to not flinch at the sensation.
He narrows his eyes at us both, honing in on me as if I’ve physically hurt him. And maybe I have. He asked for my name, and running was my only answer.
Even my heart throbs from my actions, especially now. Prim never mentioned her dad is gay. Not that it would have ever came up, but she bleeds her truths and information without trying. She knows I’m not one to talk. I listen.
“How was last night, Tex? I got worried when I didn’t hear from you.”
Prim’s words are laced with offense. She’s right. I should’ve made sure to check-in. After all, she’s saving me. Or trying to.
She pulls away, and her makeup-less face making more sense now. She stressed over me and this meeting. I’m such a dick.
Tipping her chin up, I try to convey how sorry I am. “I’m sorry, Prim. I am. I should have texted you, but I got caught up in my own issues.”
Her eyes light up, and I let her go. She’s so understanding and caring. I feel like utter shit for making this harder on her.
When my eyes meet Devin’s, every shade of envy and discourse cover his features. Why and how did this happen? Was it fate fucking me or giving me the best outcome?
Prim leads me to a couch, gesturing me to sit. As soon as I do, she sits next to me, her skin burning mine as it’s too close. Uneasiness has me wanting to move away, but what kind of friend does that?
Touch doesn’t feel good to me like it does others. It makes me want to hide in my own skin, fade away from sensation. Except Devin. My bartender. Not once did my skin crawl, not once did he make me want to separate, not once did I feel the need to escape. His touch is different.
He sits opposite of us, holding his mug tightly. His knuckles are so white that I know he’s feeling as affected as I do.
Chapter Six
DEVIN
It takes every ounce of restraint to stay seated. My heels strain against the couch to keep me grounded. The way she squeezes his knee in comfort has me aching. Actual, physical, pure ache. His distress is visible when she touches him. It never occurred to me last night he didn’t enjoy being touched. He sank into me, not the opposite.
It’s obvious now that Primrose likes him and not as a friend. Does she not know he’s into men? Into me…
Maybe he’s in the closet too.
It’s not surprising in this small town. How I missed ever meeting him has another sadness settling over me. Texas Silver. My little prince has a name.
When we were close just now, just barely, his bruises showing just briefly, it was insanely hard not to take him, kiss him, and fuck him into submission. Tease his cock until it hurt for not giving me his name. Stave off his orgasm until he apologized for hurting me by leaving.
I was troubled this morning, having to meet a guy who could be interested in my baby girl, not to mention losing the man I’d shared my body with carelessly, never realizing he was one in the same.
The man my daughter is into and her best friend is the same one who took my cock deep inside his body last night. My entire system flares with an animalistic hunger to kiss him senseless, to claim him, to tell her he’s the one I’ve been looking for forever.
It would ruin everything.
For now, I’ll have to allow him to live here under the guise of helping him for her. In truth, I’m only looking at my interests and how to get him under my body again. She said he was kicked out? I’ve got inkling I know exactly why.
Wonder if he got caught with someone in his pants. A growl escapes at the imagery, catching my little prince’s attention. No, no one touched him. I can’t believe he would go from one person to me. Then again, he didn’t argue with me over last night. My heart snaps, crippled and beaten over an imagination I can’t keep at bay.
Wh
en my eyes connect with him, it’s like he knows where my mind went. His eyes almost reassure with a surreal kind of innocence, settling me immediately.
How can a conversation happen between the two of us so easily? Without words. Only amber and honey. Seamless and shameless beauty.
“So, this is a little stiff,” Primrose states, making an awkward face. “We should have a conversation.”
I look to Texas, seeing his posture uncomfortable and wanting nothing more than to sooth it.
“I thought about it all day and night last night,” I enunciate the first night, and it almost looks like he stopped breathing in result. “He can stay.”
She squeals, grabbing him in a tight hug that he doesn’t return. His pain saddens me.
She pulls away. “See! This is great!”
He nods solemnly. Why is this kid so sad? Why do I want to fix him?
“You’ll start work tomorrow,” I add. “We can talk tonight about that. I’ll have Sandra and Landon cover for me.”
“I’ve got spin class tonight. Can we resch—”
“No, it’s okay. Texas and I will be okay,” I reassure her softly.
He visibly relaxes next to her, and she doesn’t argue, but she seems disappointed.
“Don’t worry your little head, Prim. I’ll be okay,” he says gently.
Her body lights up at the softness in his tone.
That’s what he does, lightens his voice to be gentle for her benefit. It’s apparent that he feels what she feels and maybe even catches what I feel.
He’s empathetic while most people his age care less and less every year. I can’t help the warmth settling in my stomach at the knowledge of my little prince caring for my daughter. It’s a weird sensation that feels too close to love, but love this soon isn’t possible, right?
Forbidden: A Romance Anthology Page 12