Daddy's Brat (Boston Daddies, Book 3) Page 2

  No matter what.

  “Happy summer, brother," I say to Jayson with a forced smile.

  We both give each other a quick hug. “Just doing what you told me to do,” I say. I pull back and take a good look at Jayson, buying myself some time so that my heart can calm the hell down. “You look good, man. Junior year has served you well,” I say.

  Jayson pats down his hard abs. “Soccer and marketing classes, keeps me disciplined,” he says. "And ripped," he adds, only half-joking about being this conceited.

  "I'm sure Rachel appreciates your physique," I say, referring to his now one and off three-year-long relationship with some chick he met at freshmen orientation.

  He chuckles, but suddenly looks distracted by Cole. Jayson glances over at his dad and raises a brow. ”Are you okay, dad? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the pool during the middle of a workday.”

  I look over at Cole, my body feeling like it’s going through withdrawal as he folds a tight shirt over his wet arms and shoulders. I can feel my stomach flutter and my cock starts to ache with more need, but I muster up every ounce of strength to ignore these ridiculous feelings.

  Cole seems to fake a smile. "These eighty degree days are coming to an end. Before we know it, snow will be covering this entire area.” Even Cole’s words seem forced and artificial to me now, but his own son seems to buy them for the moment.

  Then, I notice that Cole is clearly avoiding making any further eye contact with me. My cheeks flush with the heat of shame and humiliation.

  He’s Jayson's father, and I just put a move on him. What the hell was I thinking?

  Cole seems to rush out of the pool area faster than what would be considered normal. Jayson and I catch up on small talk after nearly a year apart, but the whole time I can hardly think about anything other than his dad.

  Did I misinterpret that entire situation?

  My brain is a mess.

  I could have sworn he was giving me vibes. Like, incredibly strong vibes.

  The whole time.

  I replay it again and again, going through every minor detail and trying to figure out how I got it so completely wrong.

  Jayson follows me back into the pool house. I make sure to leave the towel I snuck on when Jayson wasn’t looking wrapped tightly around my waist, not wanting my friend to see the ridiculous swimsuit I have on underneath.

  I feel so weird inside, like I just cheated on someone or something. A hand lands on the back of my shoulder and I turn to look at Jayson. "We're going to have a great summer, Gav. I’m glad you took me up on this offer. You could use a break from the constant mind-numbing fighting with your parents,” he says.

  I check to make sure the towel is still secure, secretly wishing Jayson would give me some time to get dressed. "I agree. Should be nice to catch up, spend time together like we used to. And yeah, my own dad basically kicked me out and didn’t give me a choice so I really appreciate this,” I say.

  I almost resist the urge, but can’t help from saying, "Hey, you did tell your dad I’d be staying here, right?”

  Jayson rubs his temple as though he’s trying to recall something. Finally, he shrugs his shoulders and says, “I think so, but maybe I didn’t. Doesn’t matter. The fact that my dad went swimming with you is a great sign. That’s not like him, trust me. How many times did you ever see him hanging out with me all those times you came over?”

  My brain freezes as I try to remember a time when Mr. Dunn was ever around whenever I'd visit with Jayson. “Cool, just making sure. The last thing I want is to put your father out in any way. I could always find someplace to crash if I had to,” I say.

  Jayson grabs a heavy dumbbell and starts doing some one arm rows. ”Who are you kidding, Gav? You don't have anywhere to go. Pretty sure that's why you texted me at 2 o'clock in the morning last week."

  I look at Jayson, speechless. He’s right. “Good point. But I’d rather starve than go home to my father.”

  Jayson replaces the heavy dumbbell in his hand with a five pound one. He pretends to struggle as he curls the tiny weight. “I guess my dad has these around for his girlfriends,” he says. "Wish I had half his looks."

  My stomach aches as my thoughts start to spin. That’s right, of course, he can have any girlfriend he wants. And of course he didn’t want me in the pool, a few minutes ago, when I made up in my head some crazy idea that he was about to kiss me. “Yeah, lucky guy your father is,” I say.

  Jayson's eyes point towards each other. “Well played, Yoda.” His phone buzzes from a text. He looks down at it and presses his lips together as he grins. “You up for some reunion shots tonight? Tate’s having some people over at his place.”

  Honestly, the only thing I'm up for tonight is curling up in a ball and crying.

  “Jesus, I haven’t thought of that guy in well over a year. Honestly, I’m pretty beat,” I lie. I just don’t feel like drinking with a bunch of people from high school that I no longer have anything in common with, especially after how this day has gone.

  Jayson blows his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. “”Suit yourself, you can rest here and play bingo with my dad all night. But you need to man up sooner than later."

  I snatch a crisp, neatly folded white towel by the water cooler and chuck it at Jayson. ”Don’t worry about me manning up," I say.

  Jayson pretends to scoff at my comment. ”You do realize you're stepping to a division one athlete, right?" he says lightly.

  "You're still allowed on the team?" I joke.

  Jayson’s faces turns serious for a split second.

  His eyes soften as picks up the towel from the floor. “Whatever, dude. Let’s go, I’ll show you to your room.”

  “I thought I was sleeping in here?”

  Jayson laughs and then walks right past me, patting my shoulder out of pity. “What’s the point of having a rich friend if you have to sleep in the pool room?” he says.

  “Maybe because this pool room is nicer than my regular home? About four times nicer to be honest. Maybe six,” I say back to him.

  “Calm down. You can sleep in bedroom number five. It’s right next to my dad's room. So don’t get too crazy, or you never know… you might end up getting grounded.”

  I catch a glimpse of myself in the gym mirror and swallow hard. I can hear Jayson calling for me in the background. I look outside and realize that the smart thing to do would be to leave, even if it means sleeping in a cardboard box. Then I get real, and realize that I don’t have a choice for the time being.

  I need to find a way to make peace with the fact that I’ll be sleeping in a room adjacent to Cole Dunn. And after everything that just went down in the pool, I’m not so sure I’ll be getting much sleep at all.

  I thought coming here was going to fix things until I could get a job and get my own place.

  But now, I'm starting to think that my life just got even more broken.

  Cole

  I don't know what the fuck just came over me.

  What was I thinking, putting myself in a situation like that? A situation that I knew right from the moment I set eyes on another boy as impossibly sexy and naive as Gavin Delane, that something bad was going to take place.

  And it did.

  Thing is, Gavin is light years away from that shy kid who I'd pass by in my home and hardly even notice over the years. He must be a good 6’3”, maybe more. His innocent, crystal blue eyes kept screaming my name, sending the same message to my weak brain over and over again…

  Teach me how to fuck, Daddy.

  I hated the way he looked at me, the way his eyes made my stomach feel all weird inside.

  And of course, the thing I hated the most is that he’s my son's really good friend they were riding on training wheels or something.

  My son Jayson walks into the kitchen just as I grab a beer out from the fridge. He shoots me a look and says, “Really? 3:30 in the afternoon? I knew something was off with you today.”

  I shoot him a look back
. “It's almost happy hour and I’ve had a long week. And why am I answering to my son right now? It should be the other way around.”

  He raises a suspicious brow and says, “”You always have long weeks. But I've never seen you drink beer in the middle of the day. In fact, I'm pretty sure those Sierra Nevada's have been there since March when you had that so-called assistant chick from your company over.”

  I use the edge of my granite counter to pop open the cap to the beer bottle. “All the more reason, I wouldn’t want these beers to expire. You're good with details when you set your mind to it, must be the school work paying off."

  Jayson’s eyes dart to the side for a split second as he takes a deep breath. ”What are you doing tonight, besides rescuing beers that are at risk for expiration?" he says, moving the subject in another direction.

  Not that I mind. I was about to change it myself either way.

  “I have some huge client deadlines coming up next week that I need to get ready for if I intend to retain those clients.”

  My son grabs a sub roll and some turkey slices out of the fridge. “Some Friday night plan you have there, reminds me of Gavin's. You two are going to get along well,” he says sarcastically.

  I reach into the fridge and grab the mayo, anticipating my son's next sandwich move. “You never told me he was going to be staying with us,” I finally say to him.

  Jayson grabs a long bread knife from one of the cabinet drawers. “Yeah, I did. I texted you like two weeks ago. Check your phone.”

  I shake my head and narrow my eyes. “No, I'd remember that.”

  "What's the big deal either way? It’s not like you’re ever here,” he says, slicing through the soft bread with the knife.

  I open the jar of mayonnaise and hand it to him. “The big deal is that…” my voice trails off, and for the first time in a long time I can’t come up with a quick rationale to prove my point.

  There is a moment of complete silence between us. My son and I lock eyes, and I simply say, “Tell him he can’t stay here. This conversation is over.” Jayson flashes that familiar look of disappointment my way. Like I’ve let him down for the thousandth time.

  He slides the plate of food away and shakes his head. “Are you for real?"

  "Completely," I say, without further explanation.

  I can’t take any chances, I think to myself.

  "So much for paying it forward,” he says before walking out of the kitchen.

  Ideally, I'd call after him and explain myself. Just enough to not push my son further away than I already have. But what am I going to say? “Oh yeah, by the way, Jayson, I’m gay and your friend has to leave because I almost kissed him in the pool earlier.”

  How did shit get so complicated this weekend, so quickly? This is the last thing I need with everything I've got going on at work right now.

  I make my way up to my bedroom, but as I walk past one of our guest rooms, I can hear my son talking to Gavin. I can't hear what he's saying, but it’s immediately clear from Gavin's tone that my son has already broken the news to him.

  As I walk closer towards my own room, I find myself almost uncontrollably wanting to see him again…

  Wanting to see the expression on his sweet, sexy face.

  Wanting to tilt his chin upwards with my hand and tell him that he’ll be fine somewhere else… tell him I didn't have a choice.

  My chest tightens and my cock feels all achy in my briefs, another sign that I'm doing the right thing here.

  But I can't stop the massive wave of guilt that sweeps through me for kicking him out like this.

  I walk into my bedroom, the master suite, and lock the door behind me. I head into my bathroom and strip down, completely naked, facing the vanity mirrors head on.

  Inside, my body feels restless in a way that it's never felt before. Echoes of Gavin’s voice pulse through my mind.

  I’m forced to have thoughts, ones that no grown man should ever be having about his own son's closest friend.

  Someone fifteen years younger than me.

  But the thoughts keep coming…

  What would happen if Gavin was in here with me right now? Could I control myself?

  What would I do if he was bent over this quartz countertop?

  How would I not smear a bunch of lube on that tight, inexperienced little hole of his?

  How would I not jam my fat cock in his body and make him beg for mercy?

  I grumble to myself as I look down and see that my dick is now a full-blown erection. I turn the air vent on to drown out some noise, and then reach for some lotion to lube myself up. I watch myself in the mirror, stroking my dick slowly as I imagine its Gavin's tight bum strangling my cock.

  Oh my god, I’m instantly about to come… another sure sign that this kid needs to get the fuck out of my house. If he’s already doing this to my insides, imagine the damage that would take place if I let him stay here as an overnight guest for the entire fucking summer?

  I hear a door shut in the hallway, and the noise excites me into having one last dirty thought. I fantasize about Gavin walking into my bathroom, seeing me all naked, thinking he was just coming in to say goodbye and thank me for my effort. Then I imagine his eyes widening, his teeth biting down on his lip the moment he sees me, and then me tearing every article of clothing off his fit, young body.

  I jerk off harder as thoughts of me fucking Gavin up against this sink drive my body, and my mind, crazy inside. I picture him reaching his head backward, and then me making out with him as I fuck him from behind.

  This imaginary kiss pushes me over the edge as I start to shoot my load into my sink.

  My body shutters as I try to recapture my breath and not collapse on the floor from the orgasm.

  I take a shower to rinse the pool water off my body, and to calm myself down, fully expecting thoughts of Gavin to completely evaporate from my mind now that I’ve jerked off and got the release that I needed.

  Problem is, I need something more. I don’t know what it is, but there’s still some vague, lingering feeling eating away at me.

  Doesn't matter, I'm choosing to put him out of my mind for good now. Time to re-focus.

  But somehow, the nerves in my stomach and the fact that my neck feels like it's on fire are telling me that re-focusing isn’t going to be easy.

  I dry off and dab my neck with some cologne, and then put on a crisp, blue dress shirt with a black sports coat and matching black dress pants.

  I have three or four hours of work to do back in the office before my Friday night can really begin. Not that I will be having much of a Friday night. Lately, most of my social life has consisted of pouring through spreadsheets and emailing clients and stock analysts.

  And I’m fine with that, whatever it takes to put bread on the table and be the absolute best wealth manager in my field here in Boston.

  I head into my garage and decide to take my Tesla tonight. As I pull down my private drive, my stomach wrenches the moment I see him…

  Gavin, bags in hand, is leaving my estate.

  Why the fuck is he on foot? Does he have some place safe to go?

  Suddenly, I feel another unfortunate wave of guilt. I feel other things too as I can’t help but look him up and down from behind, the way his athletic legs fill out his jeans, and the way his arms flex from the weight of his bags.

  I feel trapped. I just want to punch the accelerator pedal and fly past him in my car without saying a final word to him, but I feel all torn up inside.

  As I get even closer to him, and desperately try to persuade myself not to stop and talk to him at all costs, I feel an urge in my leg… as though my own body is fighting against me, trying to reach for the brake pedal.

  Luckily, I’m able to fend off this ridiculous urge, but not without punishing myself by taking one last glance at Gavin out of the corner of my rearview mirror. And even as I drive further and further away from him, and the outline of his beautiful body gets smaller and smaller, his eye
s look differently than they did back in the pool.

  Damn, why do I even care? Why do I feel this painful ache in my chest, knowing that I just threw him out of my house, and wondering where he’ll go next?

  This shit has to stop. I did the right thing, right?

  I voice-activate the volume on my car radio to give my mind some sort of distraction. Lucky for my own sanity, Gavin is no longer in sight. And as I make my way back to my office, I power down the windows on this crisp, cloudless day and take in the smooth, quiet ride that only a luxury model electric car can provide.

  Meanwhile, my mind is anything but quiet.

  I pull into the underground parking garage at my building. I walk past the Whole Foods that's situated on the ground level of my office complex and immediately see a young man who’s similar in size and age to Gavin.

  So much for attaining some semblance of sanity. I was only able to forget about him for all of five minutes. I quickly dart into a bathroom and splash some cold water on my face, desperate to wash away these thoughts from my mind….

  Thoughts of him being lost. Wandering. Not being safe.

  It’s official, I’m most likely sick.

  Here I am, operating a company that manages billions in assets, and yet…

  My train of thought is interrupted as one of the building's security guards, a retired veteran who never misses a beat, walks into the bathroom and looks at me as though there’s something wrong with me.

  Which there is.

  His eyes follow a trail of water that drips from the sides of my face onto the sink counter.

  I check myself in the mirror, and suddenly feel like my own reflection is strangely not one I’m totally familiar with. I quickly grab some paper towels and dry my face off, and then smooth out my hair with my fingers. I straighten my tie and glare back confidently at the security guard to send him a non-verbal message… I’ll be just fine, thank you.

  I make it to the top floor and then walk past my receptionist, Jessica, hoping that a simple nod will do. She holds out four or five sticky notes and starts to talk. “Your board meeting is still set for 6:15 today,” she says, handing me the notes.