Infuriating, page 4
Day slid his gaze to Jackson, who looked so relaxed as he drove, his one hand draped over the wheel and the other draped over the center console. Day found himself wondering what it would feel like to just ride in the car, hands clasped together like a couple. Jackson seemed so calm. Day’s outburst hadn’t raised so much as an eyebrow from him, and he’d even said he’d liked it. Day had never been part of a real couple. He didn’t really think love was a real thing, at least, not for somebody like him. There was too much wrong with him.
It sucked, too. Day had never met anybody like Jackson. He exuded this calm that made Day want to curl up against him, like a cat finding a warm spot in the sun. Jackson had this innate confidence. He was tall and large and sexy, and he unapologetically took up space. Day bet he’d never been embarrassed a single day in his life.
He sighed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck Jackson or be Jackson.
Jackson looked over, catching Day staring at him like an idiot. He could already feel his cheeks pinking when Jackson flashed those perfect white teeth in a wicked smile, his eyes hidden behind his Cartier sunglasses. Nope. No. Day was sure. He wanted to fuck Jackson. But worse than that, he wanted to call Jackson Daddy, wanted to snuggle on the couch with him, wanted to know each other’s coffee orders.
Day didn’t even return Jackson’s smile, just snapped his gaze to stare out the window, his heart beating out of his chest as he did his best to hold back the panic attack trying to claw its way up his throat. What the fuck was wrong with him? The whole Daddy thing was a gimmick. A way for Day to work his baby face and pouty lips for the older guys who didn’t know a thing about actual BDSM. Not that Day really did, either. Not in reality. He’d looked on fetish sites, like Fetlife, once, but had panicked when he’d seen how many guys had aggressively messaged him to tell him in detail to sit, stay, or obey as if they had a right, making him feel less like a sub and more like a dog.
Jackson definitely looked like a man who was used to being in charge, not because he wanted to be but because people seemed to naturally turn to him for guidance. Maybe it was his military training. Day couldn’t miss the Special Forces tattoo on his forearm. But just because somebody liked being in charge didn’t mean they wanted to Dom a stranger. Although, when Day had baited him with Daddy, Jackson had responded in kind. So…maybe?
What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d known the man less than a day. This was why Day stayed home. Why he rarely went out or tried to date. He was permanently broken in every way. Too much work for little reward. A dark shadow fell over his mood, chasing away the butterflies Jackson had put in his belly.
Jackson pulled into a parking garage in front of a sky-high building made of chrome, glass, and steel, parking in a spot marked 25. He then walked around to Day’s side and opened the door, once more extending a hand to help him up. Part of Day wanted to refuse and be the bitch he’d always been. Better to pull the tape off quickly, let Jackson know that he talked a good game but was, deep down, a big bag of crazy. When Day hesitated, Jackson gently took his hand and tugged him from the seat before grabbing the bags and leading him to the elevator. Day immediately felt uncomfortable in the mirrored box, meeting Jackson’s curious gaze as the floor numbers ticked off above the doors.
Jackson placed his hand at the small of Day’s back again, guiding him to the last apartment at the end of the hall, pressing numbers on a keypad before using a key to turn what sounded like a heavy tumbler. Jackson pushed the door open and stood aside to let Day in. He stopped short just inside, scanning the enormous apartment. It was ultra-modern with glass windows that spanned two stories, a living room filled with mid-century modern furnishings, a large kitchen with dark wood cabinets and fancy appliances, and a floating staircase that led to a second story with three doors. Day could only assume those led to the bedrooms.
“Jimmy dropped off your things. I had the valet set them in your room. We’re in for the rest of the day if you want to get more comfortable. I can find something for us to watch and put the food out?”
Day looked down at what he was wearing. Did Jackson not like what he was wearing? Was he trying to subtly tell him this was a Netflix and chill thing? Day was not fit to be among normal humans. It occurred to him then that maybe this would be the perfect way to let Jackson know that everything he saw was just a costume. No…armor. It wasn’t that he didn’t like wearing feminine clothing or makeup, but it was also a lot of work. He didn’t always look that way. Maybe Jackson needed to see Day as he was on a normal day before he started the process of getting ready for camming.
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks. I’ll be down in a few.”
“Your room is the one on the right. You have your own bathroom.”
Day didn’t even speak, just bolted up the stairs like he was being chased. Jackson was right. His meager belongings were sitting in two bags on his king-size bed. The room was huge but sparse with an empty closet open against the far wall and a door he assumed led to the bathroom. He pulled a pair of black joggers free and a thread white t-shirt he’d had since middle school. It really showed off just how slim his frame was. Jackson could definitely do so much better. Once he’d put on his ratty attire, he went to the bathroom and removed his contacts, replacing them with his large black framed glasses. At the last minute, he added his knee length athletic socks and blue furry bunny slippers. There was no way Jackson would find him attractive in this attire, and part of Day died at the notion. He held his breath for a moment, puffing out his cheeks before letting the air leak out. It was no good wishing for things that weren’t for somebody like him. This wasn’t Day’s first crush. It wouldn’t be his last. With that final depressing thought, he skipped down the stairs, stopping short when he saw that Jackson had changed into basketball shorts and a tank-top with the sides cut.
He grinned when he saw Day’s clothes. “Hell, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about. See, already dressed to get messy and pig out.”
Jackson gestured to the ottoman that sat surrounded by a large wraparound sofa. He’d set a ton of food out like a picnic, and on the tv, he’d paused a movie. Day approached the ottoman like it was a trap, that telltale feeling of panic sparking along his skin, telling him to run. Instead, he plopped himself down in the corner of the couch, surveying over a dozen containers of food before looking at Jackson with wide eyes. “How much food do you think I eat?”
“Shit. I’m here, too, ain’t I?” Jackson asked, snagging a set of chopsticks from the middle of the spread and snatching a California roll.
Casual Jackson with his bare feet and tattered clothing seemed like a whole different Jackson, which left Day feeling dizzy and confused because it made him no less attractive. It was all too much to process. Day snagged a fork and picked at a few things before settling on a fancy pasta salad. Jackson pushed play on the remote as he stuffed another bit of food into his mouth. Some kind of cold ramen dish.
The opening music to Moulin Rouge started playing, and Day narrowed his eyes at Jackson. “Really? Was Pretty Woman not available? I’m not a hooker, you know.”
Jackson snorted. “This is my favorite movie. Satine was not a hooker. She was an entertainer. A sex worker. And Baz Luhrman is a god, and Ewan McGregor is hot.”
“You expect me to believe you like the movie Moulin Rouge and that this isn’t some subtle dig at what I do?”
Jackson gave him a look. It wasn’t a mean look or even a stern look. It was this steady eye contact that shot goosebumps along his skin and sent a shot of heat to his dick. “If you think I have time in my busy life to pretend to like shit I don’t just to low-key throw shade at your job, you haven’t been paying attention. I don’t say shit I don’t mean. I’m an adult. I love this movie. If you don’t like it, we can watch something else. Would you like to watch something else, Day?”
“No,” Day managed, gaze falling away.
“You sure?” Jackson asked, voice gentle. “I should have considered you might find this a little…triggering, but you seemed like you really love what you do, so I thought it would be okay.”
“I do love what I do.” For the most part. “I just don’t really know how to deal with people who don’t instantly treat me like a circus sideshow or an easy hookup.”
Jackson gave him an almost feral grin. “When you look like me, all hookups are easy. Now, shut up and let's watch this movie.”
Jackson proceeded to eat his fill, while Day picked bits here and there, far too nervous to eat for some reason. Time ticked by, the blue sky fading to pinks and oranges then navy before finally settling on a star-filled, cloudless inky black. By the time the movie ended, they’d both settled in the same corner of the couch, not touching but close enough for Day to feel the heat of Jackson’s body.
When the credits started to roll, Jackson looked over at Day, close enough for him to lean forward and seal their lips together if he truly wanted to. “Do you want to watch something else?”
“I should probably start getting ready to film,” Day murmured, dipping his head closer as if he couldn’t help himself.
Jackson reached out, his thumb tracing just below Day’s bottom lip. “Anything I can help with?”
Day didn’t think about it, just maneuvered himself into Jackson’s lap in one graceful move, cupping his face in his hands. “You could film with me, be my Daddy for real tonight?”
“I don’t have the kind of job where I can be seen on camera.”
“I’m not going live tonight. I’m just filming for my OnlyFans. You could wear a mask. Hide your face. I’ll even show you the video before I post it so you can see there’s nothing anybody could use to identify you.”
“I’m not going to deny there’s something here between us, but I don’t know if I want to share it with the entire world.”
“I’m flattered you think the entire world subscribes to my OnlyFans account, but, truthfully, it’s only about five hundred people.”
Jackson smiled. “Maybe when you’re done filming your video, you can stop by my room and we could talk more about what this might be between us.”
Day sighed, resigned. “I’ll think about it,” he said, forcing a blasé tone. “And if you change your mind, my door will be unlocked. Just come on in.”
Jackson closed the distance between them, soft lips sliding over Day’s in a kiss that stole his breath. “I’ll think about it.”
Day rose on shaky legs, doing his best to make a quick retreat. “You do that.”
Jackson spent the next half hour putting away the leftovers and actively not thinking about Day stripping down and getting ready to put his hands all over his tight little body for the enjoyment of strangers. The idea of it intrigued Jackson. Day intrigued Jackson. So ballsy, so brazen, so hot for Jackson he worried they might have set the couch on fire if Day had straddled his lap for one moment longer.
There was something about Day that triggered this weird gut instinct in Jackson that had always served him well. Jackson didn’t believe in love at first sight or fairy tale romances, but he did believe there was such a thing as soulmates, and when you find that one person, you just know. He’d never tell a single soul that he had decided, while in line at the grocery store, that mouthy, brazen, beautiful Dayton Daniels was the one for him. He especially would never tell Dayton. Still, if Jackson was a betting man, he’d put money on Dayton being his person.
Jackson was a patient man. He’d waited a long time to meet somebody who stirred that feeling in him, the one his mom said she had for his father the day she first laid eyes on him. And now that Jackson had found it, he had no fucking idea what to do about it. Jackson was good at reading people. It was his fucking job, and it didn’t take an expert to see that Dayton didn’t just have walls around his heart, he had cement barricades a hundred miles high, surrounded by razor wire. For all his bravado and flirting, underneath, he was terrified and wounded. And, like any wounded animal, Jackson knew Day would attack to protect himself.
If Jackson wanted Day, he was going to have to work his way in. It would have to start with sex. It was the only place Day’s walls were weak. He’d let his guard down the moment he called Jackson Daddy.
The way he’d said the word…sensual and seductive, but also hopeful. It was as if he didn’t dare dream it was possible, but if he could make Jackson want to fuck him, maybe he could trust him enough to be whoever he was under all those layers.
Except, he wasn’t wearing any layers right now. Jackson’s cock hardened at the reminder. Just up those stairs, Day was laid out on the bed, his pale skin a stark contrast to the navy blue comforter on the bed. He’d invited Jackson inside. He’d asked Jackson to touch him on camera. Jackson turned the idea over in his head. Showing his face on camera in a porn movie would probably cause a great deal of issues for Elite, a company he’d built from nothing to more than six offices around the country, even with the men he hired and their tendency to marry his clients.
Jackson was walking up the stairs before he was even consciously aware of it. He wanted Day, with or without the audience. Day’s door was cracked open just enough for a small sliver of the room to show. He could see cameras set up all around the bed at perfect angles. It was a surprisingly professional looking setup.
Jackson pushed the door open but stayed where he was, leaning his large frame against the door. Day’s nervous gaze jumped to Jackson and then away, his tongue darting out over his full pink bottom lip in a show of nerves that quickly disappeared, replaced by a seductive smile.
Jackson didn’t know where to look first. Day was naked from the waist up, his skin shimmering like a rainbow whenever the lights hit it just right. His lips were glossy pink once more and his long lashes were tinted black, but other than that, he wore no other makeup. Without the baggy clothes he’d lounged in, Day’s body was slight, lean and lanky, almost feminine. If anything, Day was delicate, all long limbs and elegant fingers.
“What do you think?” Day asked, slowly spinning in a circle.
Jackson accepted the invitation to look his fill, taking in the red lace garter belt that skimmed his trim waist, the satin underwear that barely covered Day’s bulge in the front and left most of his pert, perfect bottom on display in the back, highlighted by red lace thigh-highs. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Despite his slow turn and request for the compliment, Day still seemed taken aback by this declarative statement, his gaze snapping to Jackson’s as if to see the truth of his words in his expression.
“Thank you,” he said, sounding a little breathless. Jackson pushed himself from the doorway, closing the distance between them, but Day held up a hand. “The cameras are hot. I can edit you out, but I didn’t want you to think I was trying to trick you or something.”
Jackson moved closer, capturing Day by the elbows and tugging him in close enough for their size discrepancy to be obvious. Day’s pupils dilated, and he chomped down on the corner of his lip, gazing up at Jackson through thick lashes.
“You wouldn’t trick me,” Jackson murmured, using his thumb to tug Day’s lip from between his clamped teeth and rubbing the impressions left in their wake. “Brats get punished. You wouldn’t want me to have to punish you our first time together on camera. Would you?”
Day’s eyes went glassy and he nodded. “Yeah, probably.”
“Is that how you speak to me?” Jackson asked, his hands dropping to give Day’s ass a squeeze before he gave him a gentle swat.
“No, Daddy,” Day whispered.
Jackson rubbed the spot where he’d spanked Day, but then he cupped his face. “Say it again.”
Day swayed toward him. “No, Daddy.”
“Good. I need something to cover my face.”
Day stumbled back and walked to the dresser, pulling open the second drawer, sending all kinds of lace and fluff spilling out. He dug for a minute before turning back with two masks in his hands. One looked like something out of Phantom of the Opera, but the other was just a black hood that left his nose, mouth, and chin exposed. The Phantom mask wouldn’t cover much, but the other looked like he was a professional wrestler. He took the hood and slipped it on.
This time, Day’s hands came to rest on Jackson’s cheeks, his shiny nails scratching gently over the older man’s beard. “You’re so hot, but you look a little like a thief,” Day said before chewing on his lower lip once more.
“Oh yeah?” Jackson said.
Day could only nod. Jackson wrapped his arms around him, gripping handfuls of his ass as he lifted Day up. His arms and legs came around him, and, for the first time, Jackson could feel how turned on Day was. “I mean, yeah. A really kinky one. One I’d let steal my virginity…if I hadn’t already promised it to my fans.”
“Is it stealing if you let me have it?” Jackson murmured.
“Would you take it if I refused?” Day countered, sounding like he hoped Jackson would be willing to play rough. Rough was fine, but Jackson wasn’t one for taking things by force. He preferred to ask nicely, then dole out punishments when they were necessary.
Jackson shook his head, his lips finding Day’s in a kiss that lingered. He smelled like a flowery light perfume, and Jackson buried his nose behind Day’s ear where the scent seemed strongest, inhaling deep, dragging Day’s hips against Jackson’s so Day could feel what he was doing to him. “Limits?” he growled against Day’s ear.
Day didn’t hesitate, his words coming out in a breathless rush. “No penetrative sex. No water sports. No blood play. No humiliation. All my results are negative, and my safe word is unicorn. You?”
Jackson chuckled. Day was…something else. Something completely different than anything Jackson had encountered before. “The same?”
