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CHAPTER TWO

LEVI

“Thank you, Margaret. Merry Christmas,” I said when I handed the bill sleeve back to her. “Keep the change.” Sweet Boy—real name still unknown—watched me from across the table with a wicked grin. “What’s that look for?”

“Babbo, thanks for dinner.”

“Babbo? What’s that mean?”

“Italian for Daddy, sorta.”

“You’re Italian? Got a Nonna with a homemade tomato sauce waiting for you at home with a recipe she brought from the old country?”

His snort at my joke was too cute, although he looked embarrassed before his face was hidden behind the napkin he’d used to clean off his chin.

“My Nonna knows how to open a jar of sauce from the grocery store. My Italian roots are limited to nicknames and loud family gatherings. The loudness is probably just them.” His eyes sparkled, and his perfect mouth begged to be tasted. He’d said he wanted to get lucky, and I hoped he still meant me.

It had been forever since my last relationship ended. It’d been the most polite, cleanest breakup I’d ever experienced or witnessed. We’d drifted apart with the insane hours we both worked and decided to part ways. We weren’t living together, even after three years of dating, so no shared finances or pets had needed to be partitioned.

The breakup had left more time for work at my law firm, so my billable hours increased. My boss was thrilled. My compensation package was excellent, but holy hell, I was tired of divorces. It was beyond me why my firm even had a division for it, but as the only family law specialist, they all came to me. More often than not, my clients walked away thrilled with their settlements, but I was never satisfied. The majority of the time, it was pettiness that took the most time to settle.

The only recent bright spot was an odd request to help negotiate a contract between a rich guy and his new boyfriend. It was sweet, with definite Daddy vibes, but in an odd way. The rich one was floundering. After ensuring the less affluent party was of age, I delved no further into their meet-cute. My guess was a rent-boy situation, but it wasn’t my business. The contract was fair, and half the younger man’s cash reserves were in escrow, where only he could access them. The rich guy had also asked me to help procure lost documents from social services on their behalf. That success was the most useful I’d felt in months.

“Sweet Boy, I’m not ready to call it a night. Will you come have a drink with me?”

I stood and reached for his hand to help him out of the booth. Fortunately for me, my tug was a little too strong when he got to his feet, and I pulled him directly into the front of my body. His soft oof was cute, but his body pressed against mine was delicious. I looked down, he looked up, and those lips I’d been fascinated by all night were right there for the taking.

I lowered my head slowly in case I was reading it wrong, but Sweet Boy rose on his toes and met my mouth. The kiss was fleeting and chaste, but my cock swelled anyway.

“Babbo, are we about to make out in the restaurant? Because I’m down for it,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Sadly, I don’t think Margaret would be.”

“Slip into the restroom, and she’d never know.” His eyes sparkled with excitement, and I internally groaned at my own restraint. Fuck me.

“Sweet Boy, when I get lucky enough to experience everything you’re offering, it won’t be quick and dirty in the restroom,” I whispered my response into his ear, and his sharp intake of breath rewarded me.

“Babbo, do you want to do naughty things with me?” His faux shocked gasp and pearl-clutching were adorable.

Christ, I loved the just-this-side-of-bratty ones. My ex hadn’t been into age play, which was a significant part of why we drifted apart. I had thought I could take it or leave it. As it turned out, I wanted to take it more than I had thought. He wasn’t open to it at all, and that wedge grew. He’d suggested we open the relationship for playtime, but that hadn’t been satisfying either. I wanted a boy in my life, not one who worked around my life.

“Naughty with you? Yes, very much,” I answered.

After I helped him put my jacket on, we left The Diner and went to a quiet bar a few doors down. I ushered him inside, and we found a cozy table in the back. The lighting was low and the music was muted.

“Still no names?” I asked once our drink order was taken.

“Nope. I’m like a boy of mystery.”

“Yeah, that you are.”

My hand brushed the hair that had fallen across his eyes. The sweet boy leaned into my hand, and the pressure was a welcome weight. What I wanted to do wasn’t appropriate for here, not even in the bar, so I distracted myself by rubbing my thumb across his plump lips. His tongue darted out for an illicit taste.

“Here you go. Can I get you anything else?” the server asked when he returned with our drinks. I knew we were only here to ensure we wanted to move to step two of this dance.

“We’re good, thanks. No change.”

I paid the tab and returned my attention to the fabulous boy sitting beside me in the booth. His hair, artfully styled earlier in the evening, had fallen and now covered his eyes. His peacock outfit was bold and bright blue. There was no mistaking him for anyone else. It was tight where it mattered and showed off his bubble ass to perfection. When I’d been watching him earlier in the evening, something I was sure he was unaware of, he’d been bright and bubbly with a take-no-prisoners attitude. Once away from the audience, he was quieter and more subdued. The stark difference piqued my interest.

“Babbo, we need to hurry with our drinks.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can’t wait to get my hands on you, and I’m sure the server, who seems bored enough to do nothing but watch us, wouldn’t mind the show of me sucking you off under the table, but the other people might.”

“What makes you think you’ll get your mouth on me?”

“Because you want me too much to say no,” he answered with a devilish gleam.

“No reason to argue when you’re right.” Sweet Boy’s fist pump was at odds with his painfully stylish outfit. He was a mess of contradictions. And he was correct—I wanted to strip it all away and waste no time getting to the part we both wanted. “Finish your drink. We’re done, and there’s a hotel down the street.” The sweet boy sitting next to me didn’t hide his self-satisfied smirk.

* * *

“Here’s your key card, sir. Checkout is at eleven a.m., and our restaurant opens at six. Do you need help with your luggage?” The desk clerk looked puzzled by our empty hands.

“We don’t have luggage. We only get stolen moments together…” The sweetheart with the devil on his shoulder said his fib with a deep, tragic sigh. “But lucky for us, we find ways to be together. Maybe one day it’ll be permanent.”

“I certainly hope so, sir, but in the meantime, there’s always hotel rooms.” The desk clerk gave my boy an appraising look before he turned and gave me a similar one. His interest wasn’t disguised. The gleam wasn’t quite as bright, and admittedly, that stung a little, but it was understandable. The man next to me was a goddamn diamond.

“Thanks so much,” I said when I took the card and my boy’s hand. The flirt who held my hand turned away, but not before giving the clerk a wink on our way to the elevators. “C’mon, Sweet Boy, we’ve got lots of time to make up for.”

We waited in silence for the elevators. The air crackled with electricity as the doors opened to an empty car. We stepped on. I pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and immediately turned to crowd the man standing next to me. His chest rose and fell in short breaths that caught in his throat when my hand slid across his neck and tightened at his nape.

I dropped my mouth to his, and I was done. His lips immediately parted and granted me access. Our tongues swirled and swept against each other in a preview of what was to come. My fingers tightened at his neck, and my cock swelled at his whimpered, breathy sounds. I wanted to devour him and wreck him and put him all back together again. His moans sent shock waves through my veins.

I’d kissed men before, but it had never punched me in the gut like this. My veins thrummed with blood that rushed to my dick. Each stroke of my tongue led to him pressing tighter against my body. Holy fuck, I wanted this beautiful boy under me.

The elevator ding was a distant sound, but the catcalls broke us apart. We turned around and gave the group of ladies, all part of a bridal party, sly grins before we stepped off the elevator.

“Sorry, ladies. He’s all mine tonight.”

When they started chanting “Kiss, kiss” while they waited for the doors to shut, I had no choice but to oblige. I slid my hands to either side of his face and drew him close. Sighing, he rose on his toes and met me halfway. His lips curved into a smile that matched mine. The cheering faded as we stayed rooted to the spot.

“Babbo, stop teasing me ’cause I’m not sure I can wait.”

“We’ve got all night, boy.” It was a wonder he didn’t trip on his lip with his pout when he turned away. I grabbed his hand and led him down the hallway to our rented room. Instinctually, I knew this boy was used to getting his way, even if he was relatively compliant and sweet tonight.

I swiped the key card and let us into the darkened interior. The door was barely shut before I had the man who’d flirted and teased me all night up against it. He immediately melted against me while he snaked his arms around my neck.

“Boy, you want to do this?”

“Fuck yes.” I smacked the side of his ass and reared my head back to look down at him. His low groan said it all. “I meant to say, ‘Yes, Babbo.’”

“Then say that.”

“I want to do this, Babbo.” Thank effing god. Our mouths crashed against each other in a battle for supremacy. When the boy in my arms yielded, I felt like a conquering hero returning from battle. I pulled his arms from around my neck and slid my hands under his jacket to work it off. He tried to help, but it only served to get it stuck on his arms. His frustrated noises shouldn’t have turned me on, but they did. I chuckled softly when he huffed about my lack of assistance. Instead, I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it aside to reveal a lightly furred chest and the slight round of his belly.

“Babbo, help me get my jacket off.” He pouted.

“I will, Sweet Boy. You need to be patient.”

“I don’t wanna be patient.” His declaration included a stomp of his foot. Silly boy.

“Patience is a virtue,” I whispered before tracing the shell of his ear and nibbling on his lobe. My reward was a slight shiver, so I repeated the motion. The second time, I got a low moan. “Good boys get rewarded.” My mouth moved down the column of his throat. The sweet boy in my arms shuddered while his hands flapped helplessly at his side. “And bad boys are punished.” My tongue traced along his clavicle.

“Babbo, please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

I pushed off his jacket and then his shirt while I mouthed along his throat. His soft whimpers fed my soul. It had been so damn long since I’d been in this position, and now here I was with a beautiful boy who set me on fire. Once his arms were free, I threaded our fingers together. My head dropped until our foreheads touched and our panting breaths fanned across each other.

“It’s a shitty time to mention it, but I hope like hell you have a condom.”

When I’d tagged along with Owen and Barrett tonight, I’d expected to eat snacks in exchange for small talk. Meeting the sexist boy I’d ever seen hadn’t crossed my mind as a possibility.

“I gotchu, Babbo.”

“Good boy.”

The phrase sent him melting into me and his cock grinding against mine. I’d teased myself and him enough. With a tug, I pulled him farther into the hotel room to get to the bed I hoped we’d put to use soon. With quick fingers, I undid his belt while he toed off his shoes and socks. He busied himself undoing my shirt.

“Sweet Boy, get the condom.”

With a nod, he fished it out of his wallet and tossed it on the bed with a small packet of lube. Grinning, I pushed him back until he sat on the edge of the bed while I stood over him between his legs. The urge to unbuckle his belt and finally feel the cock that strained behind the zipper made my fingers twitch. My mouth watered to taste him. “Sweet Boy, you’re killing me.”

“Babbo, I know you’re older than me, but you can’t die until I come because I’m too young to be disappointed for the rest of my life.”

I choked out a strangled laugh. “And me being dead?”

“That would be sad too.”

“I can’t disappoint someone so young and in the prime of their life.”

I dropped to my knees—thank effing god for thick carpet—and worked on his buckle. Sweet Boy, for lack of anything else to call him, had a self-satisfied smirk while he leaned back and watched but made no effort to help me. With a bit of maneuvering, I pushed his pants down to discover a jockstrap with game controllers printed all over it. “Damn, Sweet Boy, what’s this?”

“It makes me feel pretty.” The defensiveness in his voice pissed me off. Everyone got to like whatever the hell they wanted.

“Pretty?” I traced my fingers over the top and felt him twitch. “Nah. You’re already gorgeous. This is just the wrapping paper.” My nose replaced my fingers and nuzzled along the juncture of his thigh. His soft whimpers hardened my cock, but I did my best to ignore it. “Fucking beautiful.” I mouthed along his shaft while Sweet Boy’s moans rang in my ears.

In a single movement, I pulled down his jockstrap, and his sweet cock sprung free and bounced against his stomach. It was as pretty as the rest of him. A respectable five inches of cut cock. The shiny tip left a smudge of precum on his tummy, and I stretched to swipe it off with my tongue. Delicious.

“Babbo, please. Suck me. I’m so hard it hurts.”

I smiled against his skin because there was no way I’d turn down such a needy boy. Gone was the bravado and left behind was a desperate boy who needed a Daddy to help him find relief.

Without a word, I swallowed Sweet Boy to the root. His torso jackknifed off the bed at the suddenness, but his guttural groan was a welcome sound. I swallowed around him and savored the leaking precum that trickled down my throat. His muttered words didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter. I had a mouthful of cock, and damned if it didn’t feel good.

After Sweet Boy adjusted to my mouth on him, his hips pumped tiny thrusts to fuck my face. I concentrated on dragging as much pleasure from him as I could. He carded his fingers through my hair and then flexed his fingers. The sting of my pulled hair was nothing compared to the painful hardness of my cock. My goal of being patient and taking my time was rapidly losing to the idea of railing him.

I pulled off his leaking cock with a pop and immediately moved up to blanket his body with mine. Our cocks rubbed and ground against each other while our tongues battled for supremacy. When Sweet Boy ceded control to me, our frantic movements became a slow exploration of each other’s mouths. The mellow bite of his drink from earlier teased my tongue. The only sounds in the room were the steady hum of the A/C and labored breathing. My cock begged for attention, and if I didn’t bury myself in him soon, I faced the distinct and horrifying potential of coming in my pants. The clearest sign yet that I needed to strip, which I did at record speed. I didn’t even bother to fold them.

I grabbed the lube off the bed and drizzled some on my fingers before I did the same to his puckered hole. His gasp fed my desire, and I eased my fingertip inside him. His sweet moan echoed around the room, and I carefully pushed myself farther into him. When he’d become accustomed to one finger, I added a second and scissored them to open him. His moans and muttered curses were all I needed to hear. When I added a third, he ground against my hand and fucked himself.

There was no more waiting. I opened the foil packet lying on the bed, rolled the condom down my shaft, threw one of his legs over my shoulder, slathered the remaining lube on me, and lined up my cock with his hole. “Sweet Boy, you ready?” Rather than answer, he attempted to impale himself on the head of my cock.

“Babbo, hurry up. You’re taking too long, and I need you to fuck me.” Rather than answer, I thrust sharply into him. His gasp was followed by labored panting. I loved a brat but damned if I would be ordered around by one.

“You want more of this dicking?” I asked with steel in my voice. Begin as you intend to go on .

“Oh god, yes.”

“Then behave yourself. Find some manners, or I’ll pull out, jack myself off, and won’t be anywhere near you when it happens.”

“Please don’t do that, Babbo. Please fuck me. I’m sorry. Please, don’t pull out. Fuck me.”

“Much better, brat,” I said, punctuating each word with a hard thrust of my hips.

My boy whimpered while his cock bounced against his soft stomach. The sticky precum was making a mess on this skin. I swiped it up and then fed the sweet boy underneath me. His eyes locked with mine while he sucked my fingers then twirled his tongue around them.

After that, there was no more talking, only whimpers and moans followed by guttural groans. My cock nailed his prostate with each pass, and his keening caused me to fuck him even harder. As the familiar tingle began at the base of my spine, my movements became more erratic and jerky. The boy underneath me begged for every stroke while he jerked himself off. By fate or luck, we reached release at the same time. His cum spurted from his cock and landed across his stomach and chest. Mine flooded the condom instead of splashing inside his tight channel.

It was vaguely unsatisfying, but only because something about this guy made me want to claim all the parts of him. I wanted more.

* * *

Levi

You were gone this morning.

Sweet Boy

Yeah, I had some errands that couldn’t wait. But I had a good time.

Levi

Me too, Sweet Boy. Thanks for leaving your number.

Sweet Boy

Sweet Boy still?

Levi

Since you won’t tell me your name, I gotta keep calling you something. I like Sweet Boy.

Sweet Boy

I can live with it.

Levi

Success.