Page 76

Normally, Colby brought a buzzing, busy sparkle with him, all boyish charm and too-quick chatter and that bright, irrepressible smile I could never get enough of. But tonight he looked frayed, like he was holding himself together with duct tape and resolve.

And I wanted to fix that. But I also wanted—no, needed —to find a balance between slowly starting to pull back to make the end of the contract easier, while still allowing myself the indulgence of his company.

Once he was seated, I poured us both a glass and slid his in front of him, biting my tongue to keep from going into an overbearing Daddy mode and demanding he tell me what was wrong.

Besides, it wasn’t like I couldn’t guess. The boy was an open book, and I almost knew more about his life than I did about mine.

He was about to complete his degree. He had finals coming up. He still hadn’t secured a job offer for post-graduation, but had a few options lined up. Of course he was stressed out and a little bit anxious.

And none of that, I sternly reminded myself, was mine to fix. But what I could do was offer him a happy distraction.

He twisted his wine glass in his hands, not drinking it yet. He stared at it blankly, not teasing me about trying to turn him more cultured like he usually would, or turning his big puppy eyes on me to ask about dessert.

“So, I’ve been thinking about your graduation gift,” I said, keeping my tone light and hoping that my distraction would at least spark some excitement in his eyes.

He looked up, startled. “My what?”

“It’s in the contract,” I reminded him. “A bonus at the end of our… arrangement.”

His shoulders slumped, but at least he tried to give me a smile this time. “Oh. Right. The, um, the big-ass bonus clause.”

“Your words, not mine,” I teased him.

“Still counts,” he mumbled, gaze drifting back to his glass.

Fuck, I just wanted to pull him into my arms. No, onto my lap.

But if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d have it in me to talk about having to let him go, so this was better.

“I know the contract states it will be monetary,” I said, turning to the stove to dish up the risotto, “but I thought maybe you’d want something different.

Something to really treat yourself with after graduation.

A trip? A new MacBook Pro? What do you think, baby?

Tell me how I can spoil you one last time. ”

I got back nothing but silence, and when I turned around… oh fuck.

Colby had his lower lip caught between his teeth. His chin was trembling, his eyes glassy as he kept his eyes locked onto his wineglass, clutching it so tightly that his fingertips have gone white.

“Baby—” I started, my resolve to stop bending my own rules destroyed by the need to figure out how I’d just fucked up and comfort him already.

But before I could, his spine suddenly straightened and he cut me off with a soft, brittle laugh. “So I get a prize at the end, huh? Like a consolation prize? For being good?”

My eyebrows shot up. That had some bite to it, which wasn’t like him.

“It’s what we agreed to,” I reminded him gently. “It’s in the contract, baby, don’t you remember?”

“It’s optional. For good behavior,” he said, his voice flat in a way I’ve never heard from him before. And that I didn’t like at fucking all.

“You are good.”

He was perfect.

His fingers tightened around the stem of the glass, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Okay,” he said, still not looking at me. “Thanks. And… sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

I moved closer, squeezing his shoulder as I leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry about it. We can talk about your gift later.”

He nodded, the motion choppy, then quickly brought his wineglass to his lips.

I made myself turn back to the stove to give him some space. Well, and to get our dinner, of course.

“No, it’s fine,” he said from behind me after a minute. “We can talk about it. I just need to know what exactly qualifies as ‘good behavior.’ You know, so I don’t miss out.”

His tone was light. Too light.

I glanced over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“For the bonus.” He flashed me a tight smile, then gulped down some more wine.

I frowned.

“Is it, like… points-based?” he asked, his eyes skittering away from mine and his knee starting to bounce. “Do I get extra credit for never being late to a date? For helping to clean up after dinner? For wearing the shirt you like?”

Okay, now the bite is back, and my baby is never snarky.

I turned fully to face him. “Colby.”

He gave me a brittle smile. “I should’ve kept a spreadsheet. Tracked it like a school assignment. Maybe I’d have a higher score if I’d made more jokes, or been a little more mysterious. Or—I don’t know—called you ‘sir’ a few times? Would that have made you happier?”

That one landed hard. Not because it was sharp. But because I saw the doubt behind it. The twist of insecurity, as if somehow, he actually thought he might have messed up somewhere along the way.

Oh, sweet baby. Never .

“You didn’t need to do anything except be yourself, Colby. You’re?—”

“But that’s the deal, isn’t it?” he snapped, cutting me off—then immediately flinched. “Be good, get paid. Be really good, get a parting gift, too.”

His breath hitched, his voice cracking as he looked down, wiping at wet cheeks even as he shook his head, like he thought he could push the emotion back down through sheer force of will.

“ Baby ,” I said, turning off the stove.

Fuck the risotto. He needed me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t— fuck,” he said as I pulled his head against my thigh, squeezing his shoulder, rubbing his back, carding my fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbled.

“You can… You can take it out of my monthly stipend. I’m not a very good date tonight. ”

“You’re the best date. My favorite,” I said far too honestly, giving up completely on my effort to start pulling back emotionally, at least for tonight.

“You’re just a little overwhelmed tonight.

Isn’t that right, baby? You’ve been pushing yourself so hard, but you’re so close to the finish line now.

You’re almost there. Almost at the end. You can get through this last stretch, I know you can. ”

It seemed to be working. He’d started to relax the minute I pulled him against me. But now, for some unknown reason, he’d frozen up again.

I stepped back a little, frowning as I tipped his chin up so I could see his face. “Baby?”

He opened his mouth, the shape of another unnecessary apology forming on his pretty mouth… and then burst into tears.

My heart cracked wide open.

I still didn’t know what had set him off tonight, not really, but I did know what my sweet baby needed in order to calm down.

He needed me to take charge, ground him, give him something visceral and steady and reassuring on the most basic of levels. He needed to know that I had him. That I valued him. That I was here for him.

I needed to help him really feel it.

And with Colby, the best way to do that was to give him my cock.