Page 12 of Coach’s Son (Twin Cities #2)

Drew

I know he thought of me last night. Doesn’t matter if he spent the night tucked up with Charlie doing whatever dull domestic shit they call love.

Once I set my sights on someone, they can’t stop.

That’s the formula of obsession: it doesn’t need an invitation.

It worms its way into the brain, chewing through logic, ravaging what little rationality they cling to.

It festers inside them the way maggots rake through a rotting carcass. Inevitable and unstoppable. At first, it’s just a trickle, a stray thought they try to shake off. But then it multiplies. One turns to ten, ten to hundreds, until their skull crawls with my relentless presence.

There’s this poor, pitiful thing about my baby brother, he actually believes love is enough.

Fucking sad, to tell you the truth. Austin might offer a half-smile when he’s around Charlie during the day, but it’s me he sees in the dark.

In his filthy little mind, that he hides behind those innocent eyes.

I saw the desire, the pleading in his eyes when I was stretching those hammies.

Sneaky bastard that I am, I slipped his location onto my phone.

Now I know where he is whenever I bloody want, without him having the faintest clue.

One swipe of my screen and I can see him moving through the city like a little pawn on my chessboard.

He thinks he’s got privacy, thinks he’s safe. He hasn’t got a damn clue.

I could turn up anywhere. When he’s visiting his father.

Or while he’s picking out pasta at the grocery store.

Standing in line at the chemist. He’d never see me coming until I was right there—close enough to whisper in his ear, close enough to watch the shock and lust burn through his precious eyes.

That’s the exhilaration of it. Knowing I can step into his world at any moment, while he carries on thinking Charlie’s the one protecting him.

Austin should count himself lucky. I’m loaded and fit, know how to use my hung horse in ways that straight blokes would worship and bend over for. Once he knows I’m the real deal and the master, he will be whimpering my name loud enough for London to hear.

I whip out my cell. Well, well, well… little Lover Boy is on the move early this morning. Where could he possibly be off to? An impromptu training session at 6 AM? Or maybe he’s grown exhausted of my baby brother.

My phone buzzes with the update. He’s in his car. A silver Civic, with a patch of rust on the underbelly. See, I may have slipped a tracker under the bumper. I couldn’t be too careful, could I? Got to know where he is at all times.

Austin is my Lover Boy after all. Mine to follow and soon enough, mine to mark.

His location is moving fast, west on 394. Shucks, he’s going to his father’s house. Wonder if sweet Charlie pissed him off. Wouldn’t surprise me. Love is fickle, no matter how much of an endearing fool my brother is.

I’ve got nothing pressing today. Why not?

I’ll meet him there. Watch from the Rover.

Maybe even take a peek through the windows—make sure Lover Boy isn’t up to any shenanigans.

Wouldn’t put it past him to sneak a glance at another lad when Charlie’s not around.

Best to keep him honest. He’ll learn soon that he’s going to give me an hourly report of his whereabouts.

I scramble downstairs to my Range Rover, windows full tint. My heart’s racing for the first time in ages. Who doesn’t love a little chase out to the suburbs?

Glancing down at his location, Austin’s just pulled off the highway strolling his way to his father’s lakeside mansion.

Right in the heart of over-the-top Wayzata.

Minnesota’s posh enclave for the rich and famous.

It used to be Edina, but they don’t have the lakes and yachts to compete.

Only the elderly ghosts of old money reside there now.

I crack open an energy drink and gun it, swerving all around the slow fucks dawdling in the left lane.

I remind myself that speed limits are nothing more than polite suggestions.

After avoiding a few state troopers, I pull off the exit and stroll across the street of the Schmidt mansion and switch the Rover into park.

The house rises against the lakeside, a pillar of wealth showcased with pristine landscaping. Lush green grass and meticulously pruned hedges. Constructed with sandy bricks, with large windows trimmed in white, and a few luxury imports lining the driveway inside the black fence.

The edge of the property is guarded with an eight-foot tall black fence.

I bet I’d be able to vault when the time comes.

Nothing will stand between me and Lover Boy.

His father could try and guard him, but it wouldn’t work.

Once Austin gets a real taste of me he’ll be trotting behind me like a loyal puppy. Unable to stray away from my orbit.

His location stays still for the most part, ping-ponging back and forth as he walks around inside the house. He must think he’s safe in the family palace. No one is safe from me.

I imagine him wasting away on the couch, thinking about me.

My touch and my command. How obedient he’d be for me.

Bending over with a twirl of my finger. He’s probably fingering himself right now, thinking about my cock spreading his bloody cheeks.

Stuffing my fist down his throat as he gags. Both holes filled by yours truly.

Awww… yes. That’s how it will be. I’ll have him call me King.

He can be my little Lover Boy Prince, kneeling at my side where he belongs.

He’ll worship me at my feet, tongue lapping the filth from my boots, licking the sweat off my skin when I tell him to.

There’ll be nothing he won’t do to please me.

I can feel it already—the way his pouty hunger rages inside him, the way he aches for a master, a reigning supreme to kneel before.

I’ll be the center of his universe, his dark star.

Ominous, yet alluring. Without me, he’ll be nothing.

Just a void comet spinning off course, lost and helpless without the pull of its master's gravity. When Lover Boy finally surrenders, he’ll accept the crown I give him.

He’ll kneel at my throne—my bed—and he’ll never rise again. I won’t ever let him leave.

A tall figure speeds through the living room.

A tall son of a bitch. Must be Austin’s father—Coach Schmidt himself.

He's handsome in that DILF way, grey streaking his black hair.

He has a few years on me, but I can appreciate his physique.

I can definitely see where Austin got his looks.

The striking jawline and broad shoulders.

On the mental side? Austin is insecure, begging for the presence of a strong man. A son that was neglected by his father. Left to rot in the shadows while his father chased his own glory. Too distracted to see the boy standing there, whimpering for approval.

Don't worry, Lover Boy. I too, know what it feels like to be mistreated and abused. When you are my prince, you won't have a care in the world. They will all be about me. Your King.

I see Austin—every flaw and shard of beauty that he has.

I’ll care for him in a way that he has never felt before.

Wrap those broken flaws taut to my bed. Stretch them far enough to demolish them from our existence.

So that he never has to question his own security ever again.

I’ll be the answer he’s been waiting for his whole life.

His king. His dark salvation.

I’ll show his dad who the real man is. Who has the balls to show his son what a real bloke is really capable of.

I know I’m a rare breed. Fit and commanding.

Carved from the depths of hell. You don’t come across men like me more than once in a lifetime.

I’m a black hole—sucking everything into my core, light, and hope.

The humbling shadow that swallows the sun during an eclipse.

A man not afraid to use chains to get what he needs.

I can’t help that my passion for Austin is irresolvable, a passion that rattles my heart.

He resists me when no one else dares. It's precisely what makes him so exquisite and novel. I know he’s fighting his temptation for me, attempting to bury his lust beneath his fragile armor, pretending his innocence can hold out against me.

He’s been successful so far, but I know he’s about to crack, like a cement foundation buckling from the pressure.

He’s moments from collapse. I can tell from the way his face shows weakness as he speaks with his father, Adam’s apple bobbing, obviously preoccupied by the fantasy of what I can offer him.

Perhaps he needs a little nudge to push him off the edge.

King: Hey Lover Boy. Everything okay in father's palace?

King: By the way, you will call me your King from now on…

I expect him to take a few minutes to reply, but seconds later:

Lover Boy: WTF how do you know where I am… You are creepy as hell.

King: Let’s just call it intuition.

King: I’m parked across the street when you are ready. When you are finally ready to embrace the truth.

I turn off my phone. Let him simmer on that. See how long it takes for him to burn up for me, like garlic sautéing in a stainless-steel pan, releasing the sweet aroma of desperation to penetrate the air.

He’ll be begging me to unlock the doors so he can see me, big ole eyes pleading to me. His lips quivering as he tries to fight back the tears.

King, please. I’ll do anything you ask of me.