Page 50 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

“I can’t just live off you, Dare. I would feel like a mooch. I’m the Daddy here, I’m supposed to be the one who provides.”

“You already provide everything I need.” Rolling off me, he curls up at my side and places a hand over my heart. “You give me love. You give me friendship. Miles, you’re making my biggest dream come true just by loving me back. I want to take care of you. Please, let me. You’ve hurt enough to last a lifetime. Let me show you comfort.”

The prospect of depending on Darren when he ought to be depending on me feels paralyzing, but so does the hopeful smile on his face. He’s staring at me like I’m Jesus escaping the tomb. Like the world has taken everything from him, but by simply emerging from the tomb-like closet, I’ll have paid the price for all our sins combined, taking away the hurt, leaving only hope.

And hasn’t Darren hurt enough? Haven’t we both?

“So, what comes next?” he finally asks.

I give him an affectionate smile and pull him a little closer. “We get your things, and then you come home to me, baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can grab your stuff this morning if you want.”

I feel colder when he pulls away, but then he stands up and walks toward the window, giving me an unobstructed view of his perky ass. God. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He pulls back the curtain and peeks out.

“The car is gone. Dad must be at work already. Mom’s probably in her prayer closet. She usually stays there all morning. ” He glances over my shoulder and smirks when he catches me staring at his butt. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll run over and get my things, and when I come back, I’ll sit on your cock.”

Said cock rises, though I don’t know how, considering I just shot the biggest loads of my life multiple times. The idea of claiming my Dare again makes it twitch, and I notice a drop of pre-cum formed at the tip.

Yeah, there’s no way I can risk running into his mother with an unyielding erection, so I nod my approval. He approaches, then bends down to give me a kiss.

“I’m going to get dressed, and I’ll be in and out in no time.” Surprising me, he takes my cock in his hand and kisses the bead of pre-cum away. “And I’ll be seeing you very soon,” he tells my penis.

A few minutes later when he’s walking out the door, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “I love you, Daddy.”

I could melt right now.

“I love you, too, baby.”

chapter eighteen

He’s been gone a lot longer than it should have taken to get his things. He’s not a packrat by any means, so it should have only taken two or three trash bags. There’s a small sparkof dread coursing through me, and I rise, making my way to the window, my throbbing cock guiding me along my journey. Downstairs, there’s the sound of plates rattling as Mal unloads the dishwasher.

When I peel back the curtain, there’s no sign of life at the Matthews’ home. The curtains are drawn, which I’ve never seen shut before, and it makes me uneasy.

I pace the room for the next five minutes until I decide to send Dare a text to make sure he’s okay. A few seconds after I hit send, his phone buzzes on my nightstand. Crap.

Something is off. This doesn’t feel right.

I slip into a pair of jeans and a Polo shirt, sliding into my sandals before rushing downstairs. Popping my head in the kitchen, I spot Mal dancing around the kitchen in . . . good God, why is she doing the dishes in her panties? What if Darren saw her?

“Mal,” I call out, and she looks over her shoulder, smiling. “Dare’s been gone a while. I’m going to head across the street and make sure everything’s okay.”

She gives me a smile and nod. “I had Bible study in an hour but all three of them text and said they weren’t comfortable being taught scripture by the wife of a sodomite.” My heart sinks, because Bible study is one of Mal’s favorite things. They don’t actually study anything, it’s more an excuse to get together and chat. I’ve cost her that. This thing Darren and I have started may have just cost my wife her only friends.

“Sorry,” I say, but she just shrugs me off.

“More time for me to dive into the secular world. I’m actually looking forward to it. I think I might wear jeans in public today.”

I give her a smile and a nod. “You look beautiful in them. I think you should wear whatever makes you happy.” The admission earns me the sight of her rare blush, and it just makes me so dang happy to see her like this. I want it for her. I want herto live her big, beautiful life, living by no one’s rules but her own. I want her to be the apple of someone’s eye, because Mallory is magnificent and she deserves to have someone look at her in the way I never could.

I head into the hall and pause in the foyer, staring at a painting of Jesus on the wall—the one my momma painted during the congregation’s craft club, back when the church was still thriving—like I’m staring into my redeemer’s soul. Pouring out the words I couldn’t ever bring myself to say aloud. They’re words I cling to on my darkest days, when holding on feels harder than letting go. I’ve given this man my soul. I’ve laid it in His Holy hands, and I’ve trusted Him to keep it safe.

“I choose Darren,” I tell Jesus. “Every time, I’ll choose Darren.”

I half-expect to be struck down by a lightning bolt, because defying God is unforgivable, but I’ve said it, and I won’t take it back. I’ve given Him my entire life, and all He’s given me is fear. Terror that if I step out of line—even an inch—I’ll be cloaked in fire for eternity. Before, the thought terrorized me. It was the source of my secret shame. Now, at Darren Matthews’ side, I’ll walk willingly through the flames.

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