Page 5 of Weston & Cyrus (Beautiful Shame #6)

Weston

“I…” What had I been going to say? “I like dinner.”

My brain wasn’t catching up to reality, but the fact that I didn’t want it to was part of the problem. Cyrus seemed to know that based on the skeptical expression he was wearing but he didn’t point it out verbally. “I’m glad. I think this was a good idea.”

He was probably being too nice, but after the scolding Conner had given us both, I didn’t blame him. He didn’t seem to be worried in general, but my inability to function was probably making him second-guess what to do next.

He’d really thought about collaring me?

“What do you think about going to that action movie next week? I don’t remember the name but it has that hot actor you like.” Cyrus frowned like he was trying to figure out the name, but he didn’t like those movies and had a hard time with actors’ names in general.

“Sure.” He suffered through them for me on a regular basis, but we traded off being slightly bored. “That documentary you’re excited about is coming out at the end of the month, right? The one about World War II?”

His grandfather had gotten him hooked and I seemed to be his only friend who would watch them with him.

Wait.

Was that a date?

Were those two dates?

Would they be vanilla dates?

“Trying to decide how I can make the movies humiliating or did something else throw you off?” His question was so calmly delivered it took me several seconds to process what he’d said. Whatever he saw on my face made him chuckle but he didn’t rush me.

I wished he’d rush me or at the very least jump to another topic.

But no…he seemed to like being patient and waiting for me to respond…probably because it made me squirm and that started the next round of our humiliation cycle.

Ugh.

I was already hard again.

“I…um…” Hands off my dick. I was in public. What was I supposed to be responding to? “Oh, both.”

One eyebrow went up and his slightly disappointed expression had me squirming and reminding myself that I needed to keep my hands on the table. “Part…part of my thoughts were about if they’d be dates…vanilla dates.”

Nodding slowly, Cyrus set his fork down and leaned back against his side of the booth. “Is that a question or were you answering mine?”

Oh.

Um.

“Both?” Yeah, probably both. “It should’ve been a question?”

“Why?” Cyrus was either trying to be a pain in the ass or make me think about something. I was hoping pain in the ass. However, since it didn’t seem like he was trying to make me hard, I decided it was the thinking option.

So I thought.

Mostly random shit that had nothing to do with the question, but after wondering if I needed to brush my teeth before he kissed me and if he’d kiss me and if he could make that humiliating in some way, my brain finally got back to the starting point. “What was your question?”

I was a distracted idiot, but he’d done it to me, so I wasn’t going to worry about the consequences of his actions.

“Why should your response have been a question?” He paused, managing not to laugh, but it felt a bit like he was trying to decide if I remembered the previous conversation.

I didn’t…but it came back to me after a few seconds.

The date.

Vanilla versus nuts and chocolate.

“Okay, in my defense, you’re still really distracting even when you’re just being you.” I had a lot of practice ignoring that stuff and now I wasn’t supposed to be ignoring it anymore…my brain couldn’t shift gears that fast without grinding to a halt.

His smirk said he was enjoying my stupidity.

“I promised Conner not to deliberately try to turn you on in the restaurant, so I’m not going to respond to that part. I will, however, be patient while you think.”

He was such a dick.

He hadn’t been trying to turn me on?

No. I had to stay on track.

Why should answering his question have actually been a question ?

Oh.

It was a stupidly easy answer I should’ve realized to begin with. He was being too nice to me for it to be complicated.

“Because I wanted to know what you were thinking. I should’ve asked instead of worrying because you don’t want me obsessing over romantic or relationship stuff when it’s something I should talk to you about.

” And honestly, of all the stuff we needed to talk about, it was probably the least worrisome or embarrassing.

Unfortunately.

“Can’t you just get me a little bit more wound up? A few dirty insults? Subtle ones. It’ll be fine.” We couldn’t go too far because the family that owned the restaurant really didn’t like it when people got up to shenanigans there.

Okay, when anyone from B & C got up to shenanigans there.

“He’ll find out.” Settling back more comfortably against the bench, Cyrus flashed me a grin before trying to look serious again and raising one eyebrow. “Are you asking me if you’re worth upsetting Conner?”

Was anyone worth that?

“No.” I wanted us to be able to go back, and he’d find us if we broke his two-week deadline. “But…but we’re going to take things in a different direction after dinner? That was the plan, right?”

Ha. I could ask questions.

His smirk said he was probably going to regret making my brain work, but he nodded and didn’t make me guess what he was thinking. “Yes, that was my plan as long as you’re still comfortable with it and as long as we get some boundaries laid out.”

Limits.

Yeah, the big brain needed to work for those.

“Didn’t you want to know about our dates, though?” His teasing expression did wonderful things to me but that was as far as he let it go. “I thought that was what you were curious about.”

“I am. I was.” Ugh. Thinking and talking at the same time was hard. There wasn’t enough blood in my brain to make it work. “Um, my thoughts are bouncing around a lot and won’t stay put. Or even in a straight line.”

There was no hope of that and he needed to understand my current limitations.

“On a scale from squirrel to racquetballs, how bouncy are your thoughts?” His question made me want to laugh and groan at the same time.

“I’m pretty sure I’m a high squirrel on some kind of psychedelic that’s riding the racquetball.” That might’ve been downplaying what my brain was doing. “I don’t know if I need to apologize but it’s where I am at the moment.”

“No.” Cyrus was shaking his head before he’d started to answer. “It gives me a better understanding of why you’ve taken so long to answer some of my questions, so thank you for making it clear.”

“What questions?” What had I missed?

“I tried to have a conversation with you about dessert and you just told me that kissing was important.” He shrugged as I groaned. “I was hoping it wasn’t a mental breakdown, so this is a better explanation.”

“It’s…my brain, I mean…it’s going too fast.” Hmm. “Sorry about missing the conversation, though. I…I don’t need dessert.”

I was full and getting antsy.

“Then would you like to try to have our conversation here or while we move?” Cyrus chuckled when I sighed and nodded. “Either one or are you saying you want to move?”

Oops.

“Moving, please.” The sitting still thing was starting to make me itch. “And…and maybe you hold my hand?”

Once upon a time, the area the club was in probably would’ve been too sketchy for me to suggest it but that was years ago.

And Cyrus was big enough that I wasn’t worried about anyone hassling us no matter what part of town we were in.

“Yes. I think that sounds like a good way to transition our date.” For some reason, he thought that was enough.

“Transition to what?” He was right…questions were good. “You made it sound like I should ask questions. I’m being good.”

Someone behind us snorted, but they could kiss my ass.

Cyrus shook but managed not to laugh out loud. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll answer anything you want to know.”

Perfect.

And it didn’t even take very long because they seemed anxious to get us out. So before my brain could trip and block out another conversation, we’d paid, escaped, and were slowly making our way back to the club where we’d left the car.

Cyrus was even holding my hand.

“Does this make it more of a date to you?” His question probably should’ve made me obsess but I nodded before I could think about it.

But he was going to need more than just me bobbing my head.

“Yes.” Why? He’d ask that next. “Because we hang out doing stuff like dinner on a regular basis, maybe?”

As I tried to think about what else I should say, he squeezed my hand and his fingers started stroking mine. “If there are other things that would shift it to a date feeling to you, I want you to let me know.”

What made it go from friends to dates?

“I don’t know…but…but I guess doing more…more of the stuff Conner said we couldn’t?” I wasn’t sure that made sense and Cyrus’s chuckle didn’t help. “My brain is confused and is going in different directions than the lower head.”

Understatement of the year right there.

But it got a laugh from Cyrus, which said he probably understood that.

“So we shift gears a bit and make sure we talk, but we focus more on kicking up the heat level of the date and make sure to include the stuff the lower head wants.” Cyrus agreed so easily it made me nervous.

“You…” Shoot. As we got closer to the club parking lot, I knew I shouldn’t say it but I was going to anyway.

The memories of the club were too confusing and too fresh and seeing the building didn’t help me feel more confident about what was happening.

“I’m going to preface this by reminding you that you said I could ask questions. ”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Go for it.”

He was so dramatic.

“You want that too, right?” Okay, maybe I could see why he was being ridiculous. “I know you said you did, but…”

“But the too close to a friend’s dinner date didn’t help solidify that confidence and now you’re questioning the reality of what happened at the club.

” Cyrus didn’t call me out for second-guessing what he’d said but he started swinging our arms as he got his thinking face.

It was usually about work or workouts or something he loved like the financial news.

Now it was about me.

Me.

Okay, maybe that made it feel more like a date.

“I know Conner wanted us to be somewhat logical but…but I don’t do well with that.” It always fucked things up. “It’s taken me a while to figure out what I like but I haven’t been able to make it work with anyone.”

He snorted.

Brat.

“I’m not anyone .” Instead of stopping by the car, he whirled me around and pinned me against it.

Wow.

“I’m your Dom and I’m going to be the one fucking with you later.” As he crowded closer, he rocked his hips and rubbed his erection against me. “I might even be the one fucking you later if you’re a good boy and beg sweetly.”

He.

I.

Yeah.

Thinking was highly overrated.

“But I’m not anyone and I’m not lying about wanting to humiliate you and to fuck with you and make you beg to come.” His words made my legs go wobbly, but luckily for me he was using his body to hold me up.

The thigh that was braced between mine was definitely helpful in more ways than one.

“I think you can feel that, though, can’t you?” Giving me a skeptical look, he ground his cock against me, making me ride his leg. “Show me you’re a good boy and answer my question.”

I…I could be a good boy.

“Yes…I…I can feel that.” Yes. I was a good boy. “What…what do good boys get?”

Hadn’t we talked about that?

Smiling like I was adorable, he gave me a soft peck on the lips that did crazy things to my stomach. “Are you going to be my good boy? Are you sure?”

I could feel my face heating up but I couldn’t help the way I shook or the way my head bobbed. “Yes. I…I can be good.”

Making a tsking sound, he frowned and sent a shiver through me. “No, how do you need to say it?”

Fuck.

He was really good at that.

“I…I can be a good boy.” Once I stopped shaking and my dick stopped trying to burst out of my pants.

I’d been hard for hours and desperate for days, and it was making it impossible to think, much less follow through with promises of behaving.

“Very good. Yes.” I was going to try, though. “Very good.”

“Then I think it’s time to reward my slut.” Going back to looking excited and proud of me, he patted my head and sent a wave of humiliation and pleasure through me. “Good boys get humps. Hump time, slut.”

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

It…it was our first date.

It might’ve been our first date.

“That’s right.” My hips didn’t listen to what my head was trying to point out. “You’re a good humper.”

God.

That was so.

He just.

I crashed my head into his chest and gave up trying to deny his order. Between his excitement and his tone and his sexy body keeping me trapped, I couldn’t fight it.

God.

It was so good.

He was so hard.

He was so big.

He praised me so perfectly.

“Good boy. Oh, you’re so fast. I bet that feels good. Is my good humper going to come? Show me how happy my humper is.”

Evil.

He was evil.

How had I never realized that?

How had I never realized how sexy that was?

Fuck.

“Oh yes, that’s my good boy.” As my orgasm crashed over me, Cyrus ground his leg against me and kept the pleasure and humiliation rushing through me. “I bet that feels so good. Such a cute, dirty little slut.”

Then he shut down my brain completely.

He kissed my head.