Daddy's Forbidden Room

“And you’ll pick me up tomorrow?”

Brandon patted Kevin’s shoulder. “Unless you tell me otherwise, I’ll be picking you up at noon tomorrow. And if you change your mind, he said he’ll call you a taxi and pay for a hotel. The guy’s dirty but classy. If you know what I mean.”

Kevin hid his face in his hands with a groan. “I’ve literally got no idea what you mean.”

Brandon laughed so loudly Kevin kinda wished he’d choke on a mosquito carried by the speeding air. “I mean that he likes a bit of kinky fun, and you’re a horny twink who, I assure you, can’t wait to jump his dick. There we go. I see it.”

Kevin looked up, but had to rise in the seat when trees obscured the view for a moment. He might end up being the one to catch a fly in his mouth, because the yacht was stunning even from afar.

A sleek white double decker was anchored at the end of a long floating jetty in the marina, and Kevin could’ve sworn he spotted someone standing on the deck, but then a tree almost slapped him in the face with a branch, and he was back to sitting down like a good boy.

“Have you ever…” Kevin tried to find a nice way to say it, “put him in touch with other guys?”

Brandon smirked as they drove into a small parking lot bathed in warm sun. “Are you asking me if I’m a pimp?”

Kevin groaned. “I was just—”

“Have I asked you for a cut?”

“No.”

Brandon stopped close to a small store selling boat supplies and switched off the engine. “There you go. I like matching people with those who compliment their needs, and I know a lot of people, so it only makes sense that I have many opportunities to do that.”

Kevin was far too cynical to believe it. “So I’m not paying you a cut, because he already did?”

Brandon shook his head. “Stop being such an ass. I’m giving you a ride, and I’m getting you laid.”

More like earning cash to get his cat a diamond-studded collar, but Kevin shut up, deciding to go with the flow. At the end of the day, he wasn’t financially desperate enough to do things he didn’t want, but he’d be lying if he claimed the prize of ten grand wasn’t tempting enough for him to overlook some of Sandro’s imperfections. If he had any.

Kevin’s stomach clenched with nerves as he took his overnight bag and glanced toward the white swan of a yacht awaiting his presence. Despite the oddity of this situation, Kevin was hit by the serenity of the shimmering lake surrounded by dense woodland. He hadn’t swam outside of a pool since the summer camp he’d gone to at twelve, but now the view triggered a sense of nostalgia.

Apart from the extravagant underwear and stockings, he wore a simple pair of pale jeans and a fitted white T-shirt paired with sneakers. He expected to see Sandro in a suit even in this lovely weather, but he figured there was no point in pretending he was someone he wasn’t. Sandro was attracted to him for his youthful appearance and swiped right on a photo of Kevin in just his underwear. Kevin had no delusions about the nature of his exchange with Daddy, but that also meant he shouldn’t mind Kevin’s casual style.

Kevin took a deep breath and steadied himself before stepping onto the wooden planks of the jetty. It took him several steps to realize Brandon wasn’t following him, and he looked back, feeling as if another rug had been yanked from under his feet.

“You’re not going to introduce us?” Kevin asked, losing some of his confidence when he saw his friend stay in the car. As eager as Brandon had been to help him, he wasn’t intent on walking Kevin to the luxurious yacht where he might end up losing his virginity.

Brandon groaned. “Do you really need me to? You’re a big boy, Kev. Call me if something’s off, but you’ll be fine. Enjoy yourself.” He sent Kevin an air kiss.

Despite all the reassurance, when the car engine started behind Kevin’s back, he choked up, drowning in anxiety as if Brandon had taken him to the end of the jetty and pushed him into the green waters. The lace under his pants itched, he was painfully aware of how the naked skin of his buttocks rubbed against jeans, and his palms became sweaty when he thought back to the way Sandro had whispered to him last night that he couldn’t wait to taste Kevin.

Kevin’s mind was numb by the time he got halfway down the walkway, but his focus became razor-sharp when a man got off the yacht and headed his way at the steady pace of an arrow aimed at his heart. The sun shone from behind this stranger who might—or might not—be Sandro himself, blinding Kevin, but the way the man moved showed that he was no aging retiree, unless he was one of those so-rich-I-retired-in-my-thirties people.