Page 11 of Daddy Marc's Gem (Club Sensation #2)

Foster had pretty much given up on pretending the plug wasn’t shifting around inside his body. Not that he truly believed such a thing was possible, but he lived with a lot of hope. He retrieved a finer grain of sandpaper from the built-in workshop drawer in the garage. He mused that an overabundance of hope had sometimes erased common sense in how he dealt with life.

Smiling, he folded the sandpaper to reach a small groove in the Victorian etagere he was bringing to sell at the Boston Holiday Market. But first, it needed to be refinished. The ornate oak shelf was one of five littler pieces of furniture he planned to take with him. The remaining items would be smalls that were good for gift-giving and the promised vintage holiday decorations.

The days were gradually getting shorter, but since meeting Marc the month before, the days when they weren’t together seemed endless. It had reached the point where he could no longer imagine how he could survive without a Daddy.

Without Marc.

Foster finished the edges of the top shelf, then switched to stripping the old stain off the surface part. It was almost four, so as soon as he finished this section, he’d wrap up for the day. Marc was coming over later and he wanted to have plenty of time to get ready.

Foster bit his lip, smiling to himself, heat filling his cheeks as he ran various scenes with Marc through his head. For tonight, getting ready meant making sure he was nice and clean so Marc could fuck him before they went out to dinner, fill him with his cum, then plug it inside him. He’d been getting quite the kink education in the past few weeks and was loving every minute of it.

Dolly burst into a round of ear-splitting barking, and Foster dropped everything to see what had gotten her so worked up. He wiped his hands on a rag, wincing as the plug shifted inside him.

“Dolly! What is it, girl?” he called, quickly making his way from the garage to the front of the house.

The sight that greeted him made his stomach drop. Edward was halfway up the front steps, appearing annoyed at Dolly as she continued her frantic barking. He wore an expensive-looking suit and carried a manila envelope, his face set in that condescending expression Foster knew all too well.

“Edward?” Foster's voice came out higher than he intended. “What are you doing here?”

Edward turned, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, hello to you too, Foster. I see you still have your loyal mutt.”

Foster pursed his lips. Damn, but Edward was condescending. How had he not realized this before?

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Edward’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t have to be rude , Foster. That’s so unlike you.”

Foster grunted. Yeah, there were plenty of things that were unlike him these days, at least in Edward’s eyes. He was so grateful to Marc for opening the door to endless possibilities and for helping him find his true self.

Foster held up his palms, shrugging. “Well? You’re here because…?”

Edward frowned, his features clouding. “Yeah, so I don’t know what’s up with you, but we need to talk. Why don’t we go inside so I can go over a few things with you.”

Edward reached for the door latch, and Foster bolted forward. “Hey! This isn’t your house anymore. You’re not welcome inside.”

Edward froze, his hand hovering over the latch, surprise crossing his face. “Excuse me?”

Foster crossed his arms, trying to appear confident despite the uncomfortable fullness in his ass. “You heard me. Whatever you need to say, you can say it out here.”

Edward's eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve found a backbone somewhere. Fine. I'm breaking the lease early. You’ve got thirty days to get you, your mangey mutt, and all that old crap that’s in the garage out of here.”

“What?” Foster's voice cracked, his jaw falling open. “You can't do that. We had an agreement.”

Edward waved the manila envelope. “Actually, I can. I've already spoken with the landlord. Brad and I are buying a house in Cambridge, and we need to clear my financial obligations to secure the loan.”

The casual way Edward mentioned his new boyfriend—the man he’d left Foster for—made his stomach twist. But it was this new betrayal of breaking their agreement that truly cut deep. His chest tightened as he struggled to process what was happening.

“But we had an agreement.” Foster’s voice sounded smaller than he’d intended. “I gave up everything to move here with you. You dumped me without a backward glance, never fulfilled your promise with the shop, so, and now you want to throw me into the street? The least you could do was keep your word on this one thing!”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Plans change, Foster. That’s life. You’ve always been so naive about these things.” He trotted down the steps and thrust the envelope at him. “All the details are in here. The landlord agreed since I found someone willing to take over at a higher rent.”

Foster shifted his weight, wincing as the plug moved inside him. The discomfort only added to his growing distress.

Edward’s eyes narrowed again, his gaze tracking Foster's subtle movements. “What the hell is wrong with you? You keep squirming. If you’ve got to take a leak, don’t let me stop you.”

Foster’s face went hot, mortification washing over him. Before he could stammer out a response, the rumble of a familiar engine caught his attention. Marc’s black sedan pulled into the driveway, and relief flooded through his body like a physical wave.

Edward turned, his eyes widening slightly as Marc’s imposing figure emerged from the vehicle. A small smile tugged at his lips despite the situation. Marc looked gorgeous as always—dark jeans, a navy button-down with the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms, and his beard neatly trimmed. But more than his appearance, it was the quiet confidence he radiated that made Foster’s heart skip.

“Everything okay here?” Marc's deep voice carried across the yard as he approached, his gaze moving between Foster and Edward.

“Marc,” Foster breathed, unable to keep the relief from his voice. “This is Edward. My ex. He’s just informed me he’s breaking our lease agreement. I have thirty days to move out.”

Marc’s expression remained neutral, but Foster noted the slight tightening around his eyes—a tell he’d begun to recognize when his Daddy was displeased. Marc closed the distance between them with measured steps, coming to stand beside Foster, his warm presence immediately steadying.

“I see,” Marc said, his tone deceptively mild as he extended his hand. “Marc Jameson.”

Edward hesitated before accepting the handshake, his eyes darting between them. “Edward Prescott. Foster and I have some business to discuss, so if you don't mind—”

“Actually,” Marc interrupted, his grip visibly tightening on Edward’s hand before releasing it, “I do mind. Foster appears upset, and I don’t like seeing him upset.”

Edward took a step back, his confidence seeming to waver under Marc’s steady gaze. “Listen, this doesn’t concern you. This is between me and Foster.”

“That's where you’re wrong.” Marc‘s calm voice carried an undercurrent of steel. “Anything that affects Foster concerns me.”

The possessiveness in Marc’s tone made Foster’s heart race, and he moved closer to his Daddy’s side. Edward tilted his head as he regarded them, realization finally dawning on his face.

“Oh, I get it now. You two are...” He let out a derisive laugh. “Well, that didn’t take long. Found yourself a protector, Foster? How predictable.”

Marc tensed beside him, though his Daddy’s expression remained impassive. A month ago, Foster would’ve shrunk under Edward’s mocking tone, would’ve allowed himself to believe that everything was his fault, that he didn’t deserve to be treated fairly. But standing next to Marc, feeling the solid warmth of his presence, he knew he was no longer that person.

“That’s right,” Marc said, his hand resting at the small of Foster’s back. “Foster and I are together, and I take care of him because he’s the most precious thing in the world to me. Unlike some people, I know how to treat someone with respect and decency.”

Edward’s lips curled into a sneer. “Well, good luck with that. Foster’s always been a bit needy. Clingy. Never could stand on his own two feet.”

Marc’s fingers pressed slightly firmer against Foster’s back, a subtle sign for him to stay calm. “I think you’ve said what you came to say. It’s time for you to leave.”

“Look,” Edward continued, ignoring Marc’s dismissal, “I’m just being practical here. The lease is broken. It’s all legal.” He gestured vaguely toward Foster, who was shifting his weight again, the plug making it impossible to stand completely still. “Do yourself a favor and move on.”

“I have,” growled Foster, surprising himself - and it seemed Marc and Edward - with the anger in his tone. “I’ve got the papers, got the message. I assume this means I never have to see or speak to you again?”

Edward’s eyes widened momentarily then narrowed again. “That’s right. Once you’re out, we’re done. Forever.” He glanced between them, lips pursed. “Maybe someday you’ll find someone who’ll put up with all your—”

“He already has,” Marc cut in, his voice low and dangerous. “And I'd suggest you watch how you speak to him.”

Edward flinched, taking a small step back. Foster observed the calculation in his ex’s eyes—the realization that Marc wasn’t someone to be trifled with. Edward might be wealthy and arrogant, but Marc possessed a quiet authority that made his ex seem small.

“Whatever,” Edward muttered, retreating another step. “Thirty days, Foster. Not a day more.”

He marched off as if he’d somehow won a mysterious award for having the last word. Once he sped off in his BMW, Foster’s knees wobbled, and he felt as if he might faint.

“Hey, be careful.” Marc wrapped an arm around his waist, steadying him. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you inside.”

Foster put a hand to his forehead, his vision a bit swimmy. “I can’t believe what nerve he has. Why wasn’t it obvious before? What’s wrong with me?”

Marc let out a low growl. “Not a damn thing, now that you’ve gotten that asshole out of your life for good. I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself. That was an amazing, brave thing to do.”

Foster breath caught, and he swallowed past a lump in his throat. “You mean that?”

Marc paused from guiding him to the front door and embraced him. “Of course I do. Remember, I never say anything I don’t mean. Now, let’s get you inside.”

Once they reached the living room, Marc guided Foster to the couch, his large hands gentle as he eased him down. Foster winced as the plug shifted again, and Marc's eyes softened with understanding.

“Let’s get you some water, sweetheart.”

Marc’s voice was low and soothing, and Foster needed a whole lot of that right now.

Marc disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass and taking a seat next to him.

“Drink this, boy. Slowly.”

Foster took the glass with trembling hands, grateful for something to focus on besides the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Dolly padded over, sensing his distress, and rested her head on his knee. He absent-mindedly stroked her fur as he sipped the water.

“What am I going to do?” Foster set the glass down on a side table. He rubbed his forehead, frustrated and upset at how Edward had managed to throw his world into complete upheaval once again. “Thirty days isn’t enough time to find a new place, especially with deposits and moving fees. I’d planned on using the money I made at the Market for that.” He held in a sob. “And I need somewhere that will take Dolly...”

He peered up at Marc, who had remained silent. Marc’s brow was creased, his expression thoughtful. At last, he spoke. “I know exactly what you're going to do.”

Foster straightened. He knew his Daddy would have a solution. “What?”

“You're going to move in with me." Marc reached out, brushing a strand of honey-blond hair from Foster's forehead. “My house has plenty of space, a fenced backyard for Dolly, and I have that large, detached garage you can use as a workshop for your antiques.”

Foster blinked rapidly. “Move in with you? But... we've only known each other a month.” He shifted on the couch, the plug making its presence known again. “What if you decide I’m too much of a hassle, or you get tired of me, or…”

His chest tightened, and he fought back tears. This was exactly the poison Edward had filled him with yet again just moments ago.

Marc covered his hand with his own. “I would never view my sweet boy as a hassle. In the month I’ve known you, I've learned more about who you are than that asshole did in how long?”

Foster winced. “More years than I care to admit to.”

“I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for, but if you’re worried about me, please don’t.” Marc placed his palm on Foster’s cheek, stroking his skin with his thumb, the touch so calming. “I’ve fallen hard for you, sweetheart. All I want is to be your Daddy twenty-four-seven. It’s agonizing when I come home at night, and you’re not there. When I wake up in the morning, and you’re not in my arms. If you don’t feel the same or need more time, that’s all right, too. I’ll be your Daddy no matter what. But I’d hate to think you didn’t accept my offer out of fear that I don’t truly want you as mine. This is me doing to the best job I can to take care of my boy.”

Foster could barely breathe and wondered if he was hallucinating. This unbelievably amazing man wanted him. Him . Edward’s nastiness and his own insecurities hadn’t chased Marc away. Hadn’t made him second guess.

“I’m not afraid, Daddy. I love you.” Foster’s eyes went wide. He’d meant to say something less blurty. Marc hadn’t said anything about love. What was he thinking? “Uh, what I meant was…” He winced.

Marc snaked an arm around Foster’s waist and tugged him closer, his mouth pulling into a wide grin. “You meant to say you love me. Own it. Because you know what? I love you too.”

The tension that had built in Foster’s chest released in a flood of emotion. He buried his face against Marc’s shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of his sandalwood cologne.

“Really?” Foster whispered, his voice muffled against Marc’s shirt. “You really love me?”

Marc wrapped his palm around the nape of Foster's neck. "With everything I am, sweet boy. I think I've known it since that first night at the club’s restaurant when you looked at me with those blue eyes full of trust.”

Foster pulled back to meet Marc’s gaze, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty and finding none. Just warmth, affection, and something fierce that made his heart race.

“I knew that night at the club when you came to my rescue. I couldn’t admit it to myself right away, but I knew. The longer we’ve been together, the more real it became.” Foster let out a satisfied sigh. “I wish I could say you’re who I’ve always dreamed of, but that would be a lie. I’ve imagined a man could be as kind and loving as you.” Foster lifted his chin, aching for a kiss. “You’re mine, too.”

Marc’s eyes glimmered. “We belong to each other.”

He lowered his lips to Foster's, the kiss deep and possessive, Marc wrapping him in a strong embrace. Foster melted against him, Marc’s solid warmth akin to a promise of safety in his arms.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Marc rested his forehead against Foster's.

“So,” Marc said, his voice husky, “Does that mean you’ll move in with me, sweetheart? Let your Daddy take care of you properly?”

“Yes, Daddy. I want that more than anything.” Foster swallowed hard as a thread of doubt coiled in his gut. He supposed he had to acknowledge that insecurities didn’t magically evaporate overnight - miracle Daddy notwithstanding. “But what about our contract? There’s only two months to go.”

Marc sat back but draped his arm around Foster’s shoulders. “Ah, yes. Well, before this abrupt event, I was planning on discussing that with you tonight.” His expression softened. “How do you feel about a permanent contract?”

Foster sucked in a sharp breath. “Permanent? Like…” He drew his eyebrows together. Being honest was part of the current contract, so he should probably just come out with it. “Wouldn’t that be like getting married?”

“As Daddy and boy, yes. We can discuss a legal marriage at some point, too. Right now, one step at a time. I don’t want you getting too overwhelmed. As it is, a move and committing to a long-term relationship is a lot to handle at once. Plus, you’ve already had one move this year, and that was a huge one.”

Foster considered Marc’s words. “I’m ready for us to be together, though. I think I’d be more stressed out not having somewhere to go and being uncertain about where we stand.”

Marc nodded. “Agreed. Which is why I’m not hesitating to ask you to move in with me.”

“But we can still do the permanent contract, right? And everyone will know we’re a real couple?”

“Baby…” Marc threaded his fingers through Foster’s hair. “We already are a real couple. But after you’ve settled in, we can plan a collaring ceremony, a celebration we invite our friends to witness.”

“Ooh.” He liked the sound of that. “Okay, that sounds cool.”

Dolly seemed to have decided that he was in good hands because she was curled up in her bed, snoozing.

“Good.” Marc rubbed the top of Foster’s back. “We can discuss the details of the move and everything else later, but for now, I need to check in with you on something else.”

“What?” Foster was lost in competing visions of collaring celebrations, packing, moving vans, change of address notices, and a bunch of other random things.

“How are you doing with the plug?”

“Oh, right. That.” Someday, a burst of embarrassment wouldn’t hit him every time they discussed the toy. “It’s still in.”

“Good job. That’s a new record.” Marc let his fingers trail down to Foster’s chest, teasing a nipple through his shirt. “Ready to try the next size up?”

Foster licked his lips, his cock twitching in his jeans. He had a feeling he’d be trying lots of new things now that he was Daddy’s permanent boy.