The Better Brother

“Ah, don’t take it personally,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re teenage boys. Their hormones are raging. Their little peckers are doing the thinking for them now. They won’t have cognitive brain function for at least another ten years or so.”

I felt my cheeks getting warmer. I glanced at him from over the rim of my cup and smiled. “I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, if there’s one thing I know, it’s teenage boys.” He took a sip of coffee and let the smile fade. “Trust me, I gave my dad lots of grief. I was hell on wheels, but I like to think that I turned okay.”

Yes, you certainly did, I thought. I licked my lips and cleared my throat. “So, can you tell me more about the position?” I asked.

He smiled at the word “position” and I wondered what was going through his mind. Tyler Jenner wasn’t a teenage boy anymore, but I got the feeling that he was still hell on wheels.

“Sure,” he said after taking a sip of coffee and wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “I plan on using this as my private retreat,” he said, nodding around the room. “Whenever I’m in town you’ll be expected to be here to prepare all of the meals. Some days that may be breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Other days it might just be lunch. It depends on how hungry I am.” He paused to gaze into my eyes. “I’m known to be ravenous at all hours of the day and night, so you would be on-call. Would that be okay?”

“Um, sure, I think so,” I said, trying to smile. I was feeling a bit like one of the three little pigs, facing down the big bad wolf.

“Since the position is on-call rather than full-time, you’d be paid a salary of $1,000 a week whenever I was in town, which will probably be six to eight weeks a year for now.” He blinked at me. “I trust that’s a little more than you’re making at the steak house.”

“It is,” I said with a nod. Jesus, a grand a week just for feeding this guy breakfast, lunch and dinner? Jackie was right. This could change our lives, or at least get us back to even with our creditors.

“Will it be okay with the old folks who own the steakhouse if I have to pull you away at times?” he asked. “I mean, will they be okay with you working a flexible schedule whenever I’m in town? I don’t want to mess up whatever you have going there.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure they’ll be fine it.”

“Good.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment. I get nervous when no one’s talking so I asked, “What kind of food do you like?”

“I’m a basic carnivore,” he said, flashing his teeth at me. He braced his palms on the top of the island and his arms roped with muscle. “For breakfast I like eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, coffee, orange juice. Lunch is usually a sandwich o

f some kind; turkey, roast beef, ham, lots of cheese. Dinner is meat and potatoes.”

He gave me a playful look and wagged his finger at me. “Do not try to impress me with anything fancy because I do not eat anything I can’t pronounce.”

He smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. He drained his cup in one gulp, then narrowed his eyes at me and licked his lips. “So, what do you think?”

“I think it sounds wonderful,” I said, gushing a little. “I can start right now, if you like. You said you were hungry.”

“Ravenous,” he said, his voice a low growl. He smiled at me again and I knew at that moment, it was too good to be true. He narrowed his eyes at me and showed me his teeth, like the wolf that had just gotten the little pig comfortable and was now ready to rip out its throat.

Tyler took a step back and let the towel drop from his waist. My eyes immediately went to the thick patch of black curls below his abs and the long cock that dangled from them. His cock wasn’t erect, but it was impressive nonetheless. It hung seven or eight inches long down his right leg. The shaft was thick and veiny, with a round head the size of a golf ball.

“See anything you like?” he asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest again. “We could talk about other duties if you like. I could easily increase your salary accordingly.”

I could barely believe my eyes and ears. Who did this prick think I was? I shook my head back to reality and brought my eyes up to his. He was grinning proudly.

His eyebrows arched. “Well? Shall we talk about a position?”

Without a word, I slid off the stool and grabbed my parka and started pulling it on. The smile left his face.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Thank you for your generous offer, Mr. Jenner,” I said as I wrapped my scarf around my head. “But I’d rather starve than work for an arrogant asshole like you.”

He covered his cock with his hands and gave me a confused look. His voice took on a nasty tone. “This arrogant asshole could buy and sell you, sweetheart.”

I blinked away the tears and gritted my teeth at him. “No, Mr. Jenner, you couldn’t. Because I’m not for sale. Not to you or anybody else.”

I turned and ran for the front door.

As I was crossing the marble foyer, I saw another man dressed in an expensive suit coming down the stairs with a red head that I was sure worked at the Classic Cat with Jackie.