Page 6

Chapter Six

Dominic

I like Mikah’s feistiness, and the thought of him on his knees for me is appealing because of it. I love a good brat to tame, and Mikah is such a brat. That alone has me wanting to say yes to him. I know, even without really knowing him, that it would be a good time. Of course, there are terms we’d have to agree to. If he won’t tell me why he needs the money, that’s fine. It’s a limit for him and not necessary. But there are other terms he’d have to agree to.

I’d thought of waiting to see if he would give in and beg. I’d love to see him beg. Seems he isn’t that desperate. At least, not yet. Which is why I’m going to give him an olive branch. I’ll let him know I’ve changed my mind, and we can discuss this a little further. I want to see how far he is willing to go for this. Personal stuff is the hard limit, it seems, but that still leaves me a lot of room to work .

I’ve always been a curious guy. I’m impulsive and not good at controlling myself. The only time I am good at control is when it comes to sex. Then, and only then, do I have self-discipline. Out in the real world? Not even close.

Which is why I’m walking up Mikah’s steps, about to bang on his door. I saw him come home a little while ago, and considered meeting him on his way in, but he had his hands full of grocery bags and I knew it would be an excuse to get out of the conversation. I also saw his note on the window, which was cute.

He pulls the door open, looking a little disheveled. His dark hair is sticking up all over the place and there are bags under his green eyes. Eyes that widen when they see me. His shoulders sag.

“What do you want?” he asks. None of the fire that I saw the other day is there; the fire that I crave.

“Just want to talk. I’ve reconsidered.”

“I’m not telling you my personal business, so you can—”

“I’ve accepted that,” I say, holding up my hands.

“Have you?”

“Yes,” I say with a nod. “It was rude of me to ask for that when we don’t know each other. Besides, you’re doing me a favor. 100k is a good chunk of money. Can I come in?” I ask, but I walk in before he gives me an answer.

I’m surprised when I look around his house, finding it bare. I mean, it’s decorated, but minimally. Everything is pristine, too. Looks unused or brand new. There is no clutter, no junk. It’s nothing like my house. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he just moved in.

“I’d show you around, but you already know where everything is,” he comments, walking to his living room and dropping onto the couch. The Price is Right is playing on the TV, muted, and there’s a mug of tea on the coffee table, on top of a coaster. Yeah, he’s a coaster guy. Saw that from a mile away.

I sit on the armchair that’s perpendicular to the couch.

“So, tell me more about what we would need to do,” I say, keeping my tone even.

He sighs, then sits up and reaches for his tea, taking a sip. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’m good.”

He nods, putting his mug down. “So, I offered the special project to my fans. It’s a calendar from BTL and there will be a video, which was a last-minute addition. At first it was just going to be photos, but I figured the video would be better. There’s a contract. We’d have to get tested, all the normal stuff. There aren’t really any limits, other than the shoot has to be themed to a holiday, which I already chose.”

“What did you choose?” I ask.

“National Chocolate Mousse Day,” he says with a shrug. “Figured the chocolate would be a fun addition.”

It will be indeed. I watch him for a moment, taking in how tired he looks. Kind of feel bad for the guy. Something’s eating him and I don’t think he has anyone to talk to about it. I never see people come and go from his house, and he hardly leaves .

“So, this money offered has nothing to do with BTL, then?”

“No,” he says carefully. “But it would make sense to do the shoot and make the video, since we can get it all done on the same day.”

“But if it’s a BTL video, I can’t put it up on my website for my fans,” I say, which is something I would want to do. He opens his mouth to say something, but I quickly add in my solution. “Meaning we will have to make two.”

“What?” he asks, shaking his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is about the project, nothing more.”

I get up. “Look, I can respect your privacy and not get into your business, but what I won’t do is keep good shit from my fans. I’ll do this if you make the second video with me so I can put something on my site too. Won’t even take any extra for the BTL video or calendar or whatever. I’ll do all that for free.”

He narrows his eyes and just stares at me. After a moment, he still hasn’t said anything.

“Think about it,” I say as I walk toward the door. Pulling a business card from my pocket, I drop it on the table by the door before leaving the house, feeling him watching me the whole time.

Now all I have to do is wait for him to reach out. Ball is in his court. I gave him my terms. He’s desperate for money, that much is clear, but is he desperate enough to let me fuck him twice? Guess we’ll find out.

The club music pounds in my ears, vibrating from my toes all the way through my chest. I fucking love loud music. I hold my hand up to the bartender, letting him know I need another drink.

“You ever get sick of coming here?” he asks with a smirk.

“Not when you’re working.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs a glass to get me a new beer.

Emmet is my brother and though he acts like he can’t stand me, he loves me. Looks up to me. I’m the best big brother he’s ever had, not to mention the only one—sort of. He’s only a year younger than me and my foster brother, so we didn’t meet until we were teenagers. But we’ve stayed close all these years later. His parents still foster, and I love them for it. Takes a special kind of person to do that shit.

“Guy at the end of the bar stares every time you’re up here,” he says, sliding me my beer. “Pink shirt.”

Oh, I love a man in pink. I bring my beer to my lips, taking a sip as I seek the guy out. There’s no shame in my game. I don’t need to hide the fact I’m checking him out. And when I find him, I definitely like what I see and don’t want to hide a damn thing. I want him to know I’m looking.

“Send him a drink for me,” I tell Emmet.

“One of these days, you’re going to have one thrown in your face. ”

“Until then,” I say, holding my beer up in salute. I lean against the bar, turning my attention to the dance floor. I was there earlier but needed a break and a new beer. Crowd is slow tonight, but it’s a Thursday, so it usually is. It’s a bar that rides the line of club. Some nights it’s more of a club; other nights it’s the biggest dive bar you’ll ever go to. Still a good place to find a hook up though. My job doesn’t make me sick of sex. I think it only makes me want it more.

It doesn’t take long for Pink Shirt Guy to come find me. He slips in right in front of me, our cocks nearly brushing.

“Thanks for the drink,” he says, tilting his head in a cute manner.

He’s a few inches shorter than me, some years younger, too. Dirty blonde hair with a boyish face. I’d guess a college kid, if I had to. He’s old enough to be here, so he’s old enough for me.

“You’re very welcome. What’s your name?” I ask, taking another mouthful of beer.

“Charlie. You?”

“Dominic.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, biting his bottom lip and making a show of looking me over. “You want to get out of here?”

I chuckle. “Didn’t have to work too hard for that.”

“I know what I like, and you’re it. So, what do you say? I suck a mean cock.”

I laugh again, then finish off my beer. “Let me close my tab and you can follow me to my place. ”

Emmet is already slapping down the receipt when I turn around, giving me another exaggerated eye roll.

“Stop being jealous. I tell you all the time I’ll fuck you too.”

“And I’d take you up on it if I liked dick. Now get the fuck outta my bar.”

“It’s not even your bar!” I call after him, shoving a few twenties into the tip jar.

Charlie is looking at me funny, probably wondering why I just mentioned fucking the bartender when I’m about to take him home.

“Stepbrother,” I say as an explanation. It’s easier than explaining the foster care thing because people always have questions about that. “You ready to go?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It’s a twenty-minute drive to my house, and I always get worried whoever’s following me is going to get lost. No one ever has, but the winding roads make it very possible. I pull into my driveway, noting the lights still on in Mikah’s place. I wonder if he’s making content, and what kind of content he makes. He said he does solo stuff… How far does that actually get you? You can only jerk off in so many ways.

I tried searching his name on the BTL website, but couldn’t find him, meaning he uses a pseudonym. A lot of people do. I don’t give a shit, and my name is kind of cool, so I didn’t bother. Made everything much easier when it came to paperwork too.

Charlie pulls in behind me and follows me up the front steps .

“What do you want to drink? I have wine and beer,” I say once we’re in the house.

“Either is fine,” he says, looking around. His eyes settle on the couch in my living room, and I wonder if it looks familiar to him—if he knows who I am.

I grab two beers. “Come on. Let’s go out back.”

He follows me outside, sitting in the chair with his back to Mikah’s house. I hand him a beer, put mine on the ground beside the chair I sit in, and get the fire going. I pop my beer open when I sit and take a long swig. Mikah catches my attention when he walks by the sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard, but he doesn’t notice me. He will soon enough. I’ll make sure of it.

“So, what do you do for work?” I ask.

“I’m in college, so I don’t work much. I do part time graphic design.”

Called it. I’m so good at reading people.

“Nice,” I say. “Have you done anything I may know?”

“Probably not. Mostly mom and pop shops near school.”

“Which is?”

“Santa Clara. I’m in the area visiting family for the week. What do you do for work?” he asks.

I smile in response, trying to gauge if he already knows.

“I’m an accountant,” I say, going along with the running joke. Some people get it, some don’t. I still think it’s hilarious.

“Oh? I wouldn’t peg you as someone who sits behind a desk all day. ”

My grin widens. So, he doesn’t know who I am then. This sometimes makes things easier.

“Well, that’s because I do the pegging.”

He grins, taking a swallow of beer before getting to his feet and walking over to me and dropping to his knees. He has no shame, and as much as I love a submissive man, I do love one who knows what they want. Especially when that something is my cock down their throat.

“You like numbers?” he asks, reaching for my jeans’ button.

“I like money.”

He hums a sound of approval. “Don’t we all?”

Charlie pulls my dick out, taking me right to the back of his throat. I groan, resting back and shifting down to get more comfortable. I keep my eyes on my neighbor’s window, hoping he walks by again.

Charlie sucks dick like a champ. He definitely does this shit all the time. I find the back of his head, grasping onto his hair. My neighbor walks by again, still not noticing.

Damnit, Mikah. Pay attention to me.

I don’t know what’s got me so wound up over this guy and why I suddenly want all of his attention and approval and his ass that I bet is perfect, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. It’s as annoying as he is.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good,” I say as he suckles on the tip, then drags his tongue down my shaft to lick my balls. “Goddamn. ”

Charlie licks his way back up my dick, taking me into his mouth again. I sneak a glance down, watching him swallow my cock. It’s a nice view, but I’d much rather a dark-haired bratty boy be here instead. My eyes fall closed and I lean my head back, enjoying the feeling of getting head. Something I rarely like for long. Not sure I’ll come like this, but it’s fine. I love watching someone swallow my dick, but I always want to fuck. Charlie can either deal with the struggle of making me come like this or let me fuck him.

I open my eyes when I feel someone staring at me, and there he is. Standing in the window, not even hiding himself from view.

Though all I see is his silhouette, I know he’s staring right into my eyes. I know he’s angry. Mad at what a shitty and disrespectful neighbor I am. Good. Be mad. Hate me. It’ll be all the better when he lets me fuck him. Knowing him, he’s going to throw a fit. Close the blinds, the curtains, and then storm off like he always does. I do enjoy his little temper tantrums, and I can’t wait to put him in his place. He’s such a brat, just looking for someone to teach him how to behave.

At first, I thought he was a pompous prick who hated everyone. But after chatting with him, after learning his demeanor and seeing his house, I see him . He’s looking for attention the same way I am, only in a different form. We’re practically perfect for each other. He hasn’t figured that out yet, but he will.

It hurts he hasn’t texted me yet, I won’t lie. But I need to be patient, which fucking sucks .

When my sexy neighbor doesn’t go running for the hills, doesn’t slam his curtains closed, but instead removes his pants, I nearly come right down Charlie’s throat.

Fuck that. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he made me come that fast. It isn’t him doing this.

I smirk at Mikah, knowing he can see me thanks to the flames flickering in front of me. I can’t make out the look on Mikah’s face, but I do see the shadow of his arm moving back and forth.

He’s jerking off.

Fuck, he’s jerking off, watching me get sucked off by some dude I met at the bar. Holy fuck, that’s hot. Why is it so hot?

Gripping Charlie’s hair tighter, I hold him in place and thrust up, testing how much he’ll let me take control. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in charge, but I don’t go for that. He lets me do my thing, lets me fuck his mouth, all while I keep eyes on my neighbor, who’s jerking his dick a lot faster than he was a moment ago. Charlie has no idea, which may be a little fucked up, but it’s too good for me to stop.

I wonder what Mikah’s dick looks like. How big it is. What does it taste like? I bet he’s fucking delicious. Bet his ass is nice and tight, too. Bet he loves getting eaten out and sucked off and fucked real hard. So hard that he’ll feel it for days and it’ll be a nice reminder not to be a brat. But he’ll push my buttons anyway, to get fucked even more, because that’s what brats do.

Mikah shifts his stance, still jerking his dick, still keeping his eyes on me. I thrust into Charlie’s mouth, and I don’t know how I know this, but Mikah is close. He’s so fucking close, and so am I.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I’m almost there.”

I nod, hoping Mikah understands what I’m saying, if he’s even paying attention the way I think he is. Hope he understands that I’m giving him permission to come whenever he wants because I’m about to come too. And then he does. His arm slows, body trembles, and then I’m coming. My eyes squeeze shut as I release down Charlie’s throat. He takes all of me, swallowing every bit. My orgasm goes on and on, my dick pulsing and squirting down his throat. When I look up, Mikah is gone and all that’s left is his cum, splattered and sliding down the glass doors. This little brat.