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“Look,” I say when I see someone on the trail. They’re speed-walking, not looking our direction. Still, I add, “They know you’re my slut. They know I’m your Sir and that you would do anything for me, that you would bend over and give me your ass anywhere I want it.”

“I would…” He agrees as I rail him.

“I’m going to want you all the time. You’re such a good hole…a good boy. My sweet little sub. I love giving you what you need.” I love that he trembles, melts under my praise and sweet words as much as he does the harsher, more humiliating ones.

I spit in my hand, slow my thrusts, then wrap my fist around his leaking cock and stroke him.

“Your balls are so full for me…you made all that cum just for me. I have a load in my balls I made special for you too. Going to fill up that pretty ass of yours…mark your insides so you smell like me. But not until you lose control. Come for me, sweet boy. Show me all that delicious spunk you made for me. Come.”

“Sir!” he shouts, his hole tightening on my cock, dick twitching in my hand as thick, white ribbons shoot from him and land on the glass. It pulls my orgasm from my balls, my eyes rolling back, body fighting off tremors while I spasm and spill inside him.

Jay collapses back against me, limbs giving out. I hold him up as I whisper soft words in his ear. “So good. You were perfect for me. Your Sir is so proud of you.”

He smiles, looking sex drunk. I lift my hand to his mouth, and he immediately begins sucking my fingers, licking all his cum off them.

“Bend down for me…lick the rest of it off the glass. You have to clean up your mess, and then I’ll take you to bed.”

“Yes, Sir. Anything for you.”

I help him lower slowly, his limbs weak. I kneel beside Jay while he hungrily slurps and laps at his load on my window.

“Good boy.” I pet his head, and when he’s all finished, I help him to the bed. “I’ll get a wet washcloth.”

“No. Please…don’t go.” His hold on me tightens, and my desire to care for him, to protect him and give him what he needs, roars inside me.

“Okay, let’s lie down.”

We climb in together, Jay clinging to me as if his life depends on it. I’m on my back, him half on top of me, arm and leg thrown over me. “Shh,” I whisper into his hair.

“I was good for you?” he asks, clearly needing to hear it again.

“The best. You’ve made me so happy.”

I feel him smile, even though I can’t see it. “Thank you, Sir. So sleepy.”

“Go to sleep.” I tickle my fingers up and down his back, his ass. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“I know,” Jay replies softly, and a moment later, he’s gone to the world.

I lie awake, losing myself in how much I want him, but drowning in what I know it will cost me to keep him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JT

I’ve been nervousall week, worried about how today will go. Marshall and I are getting ready to meet my parents—to tell them about us. I know he’s who I want, and I’m used to standing my ground when it comes to my mom and dad, no matter how difficult it is, but this is different. It doesn’t only affect me, and though Marshall doesn’t talk about it much and puts on a brave face, I can see the worry in him, the fear and sadness. I don’t know everything about his childhood, but Dad told me Marshall’s father left when he was young, and his mom rarely put him first. She wasn’t abusive so much as neglectful, and she spent Marshall’s childhood unsure how to run her own life, much less be a good mom to him.

And the one thing he always had was my dad and my grandparents. Grandma bought him things he needed sometimes, and their house was always open to him. When Grandpa passed away, Marshall helped Dad through it better than Mom or I could. Marshall shared everything with my father, and now my dad is going to hate him, and I can’t help feeling responsible.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Sir before we leave his house. Marshall had wanted to talk to them without me, just him and Dad, but I won’t let him. This involves me just as much as it does Sir, and I refuse to take the easy way out. If he’s going to risk his relationship with my parents, the least I can do is be by his side, try to help them understand and show them how good we are together.

Because we are good.

We’re everything.

“Want to? Not especially, but I don’t see that we have a choice. What kind of man am I if I continue to keep this from someone I love? What kind of friend? Brother? Person? I owe it to John to tell him, and all I can do is hope that somehow, eventually, he’ll understand.”

I can’t help but walk over to him and kneel, right there in the middle of his entryway. “You’re such an honorable man. You make me proud to be your boy. I…I wouldn’t risk this for anyone else.” I say that knowing Marshall risks even more. My dad is going to be pissed at me, there’s no denying that. Mom will be sad and confused. But I know my parents. They would never walk away from me, never turn their backs on me. I can only hope it will be the same for Marshall.

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