Kevin squeezed the handset harder, smiling at his own reflection. He’d never felt this empowered. He wasn’t just a boy now, but an object of desire. He ran his palm across his cotton-clad ass. It wouldn’t stay virginal for long. “Anything for Daddy.”
Sandro groaned. “Such a tease. I want you to wear stockings, baby. Color is up to you, but I want the pants to match. I want the pants to be lace. With room for your cock at the front and an open back. How about that?”
Kevin saw his own face redden further, and his mind went blank. That wasn’t what he’d expected. “Y-you want me to cross-dress?”
“No. I just like a boy in some lace and stockings. Other than that, just bring your lovely self.”
A giddiness bloomed in the pit of Kevin’s stomach. “And if I don’t dress up?”
“Well, then I might just need to spank you, if you wish to stay despite ignoring my request,” Sandro said in a husky tone that made Kevin imagine himself bent over the lap of the elusive, masculine presence of a man who didn’t yet have a face.
It was an attractive image, but he wanted to know what sex was like first.
“I think I’ll be good, Daddy.”
“Thought so, Kevin. I can’t wait to have a taste of you. Keep that cherry for me.”
“I will,” Kevin said, his heart blooming with newfound desire for an older man.
“See you next week then.”
Sandro disconnected, leaving Kevin to stare at the phone as if the device had somehow transported him to another dimension. One in which he was a sex god, lusted after by every man around and paid a thousand bucks for the pleasure of his company.
Kevin’s eyes went wide at the onslaught of details sent in the next text message.
He was to meet Sandro on his yacht?
Who was this guy?
Chapter 2
Kevin was an idiot. An idiot who would end up murdered. But he was also an idiot who’d been stuck living on Brandon’s couch last week in defiance of his parents, and as soft as the white leather was, it couldn’t compare to financial security.
He’d texted with Sandro a few times, but while his prospective Daddy eagerly accepted pics from last week’s lingerie shopping, Kevin couldn’t squeeze a photo out of the man and was stuck with Brandon’s assurances that Sandro was in fact ‘hot’. But tastes in that department varied so how was Kevin to know what his reaction to the guy would be?
He happily pocketed the cash Sandro had sent him for expenses, but no matter how charming Kevin’s benefactor seemed, the prospect of entering a sexual relationship with a stranger was daunting. Kevin was getting more nervous as the time to meet Sandro approached and had shared his doubts with Brandon last night when Sandro had called to express just how much he couldn’t wait to see Kevin. His deep voice was like warm milk and honey, soothing Kevin’s stress and tickling his ego until his heart fluttered from excitement.
But despite having lost sleep, Kevin was wide awake as he breathed in the fresh air blasting at his face in Brandon’s vintage convertible Ford Mustang as they drove through the Ozarks. The closer they were to where Sandro moored his yacht, the more trepidation filled Kevin’s heart. But despite all the doubts, he was exhilarated about the perspective of having sex today, and the fact that he was wearing lilac lace under his jeans felt illicit, like that time he’d stolen strawberries from a neighbor’s garden—naughty, but also undeniably satisfying.
He was no good boy, but Daddy didn’t need to know.
Tonight, he’d be serving himself up on a platter to an older man who paid for the privilege and he couldn’t even find the concept immoral. If he thought Sandro was hot and if Sandro had money to burn, what would the harm be in pursuing a mutually beneficial situation filled with cash and orgasms?
“You know he actually owns an island somewhere in the Ozarks?” Brandon asked with a grin. His lilac eyes hid behind large sunglasses, but Kevin had no doubt he was being assessed for a reaction.
In fairness, he was a bit overwhelmed. His family wasn’t poor, and he’d been friends with Brandon for a while now, but the kind of money that allowed one to own a yacht and their own island was a level of wealth he wasn’t accustomed to.
“What does he do? I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask on the first date.”
Brandon snorted. “You’ll be sucking his dick, Kev, so I don’t think you should worry what’s ‘appropriate’.”
Kevin groaned and sank lower in the pale blue leather seat, glancing at the shimmering lake nestled among trees. “No need to be an ass about it.”
“Okay, okay. He’s some kind of businessman. I don’t think he’s exactly out, so he likes to keep a low profile, hence the pleasure house on the island. But I don’t know if he’ll even take you there.”