Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Kevin sat by an open window in the living room, soaking up the sun and admiring the view of the lake as he talked to Brandon over the phone.
“He did say he’ll be coming back today, but I don’t want to get my hopes up too high. Sometimes things come up, and he can’t really do anything about it. He probably doesn’t even remember it’s today.”
Kevin could hear Brandon rolling his eyes. “He better remember, ‘cause you fulfilled your part of the deal.”
Kevin groaned. “Don’t talk about it this way. This year has totally changed my outlook on life. I’m a new man.”
“You gonna write a memoir about it? ‘My year of fucking for cash’? Bet it would be a bestseller.”
“As crude as ever, I see. It’s been much more than that, but that’s private.”
Brandon whistled. “Look at you! Not a gossip anymore?”
What Kevin shared with Sandro was far beyond the crushes he used to tell Brandon about in detail. They had an actual relationship, no matter how unusually it started. “Not about my Daddy.”
“You took to it like a fish to water.”
Kevin laughed. “It was meant to be. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until you get it. I’ve got to start preparing dinner. I want to wow him before we talk about me staying.”
“If he keeps you, please invite me again. I know I’m usually a bitchy fucker, but that focaccia was divine, Kevvy.”
Kevin grinned to himself. He must have taken a million photos of the food he’d made while staying at Sandro’s. When he got to use the internet again, he was so starting a cooking Instagram. He already knew he’d call it Cooking_for_Daddy, and he’d be open about his relationship, because there were so many recipe websites nowadays that one had to stand out to make a name for themselves. Chef Salvatore had already said he’d feature Kevin on his own blog, so that would be a start.
Kevin was on the way to the kitchen when a thud resonated through the vast space, freezing Kevin on the spot.
An icy shiver crawled down his spine despite the warm weather, and he ducked behind the kitchen island without thinking, his heart thudding like mad. The scars of Roberto’s assault were still deep, and even though Daddy promised nothing like it would happen again, even though he’d protected Kevin so fiercely, unexplained sounds inside the house still sent Kevin’s nerves into overdrive.
Ha sat on the floor, telling himself to take deep breaths and calm down. Last time he’d freaked out, it turned out a bird flew into the bedroom upstairs and was too stupid to get out. Something similar was surely the case this time as well.
His phone rang, making Kevin yelp in panic, and he scrambled to turn it off, only to remind himself that weird sounds happened, and he couldn’t live fearing each one. It was Sandro calling too.
“Hey! Are you coming?” Kevin asked a little too nervously.
“Kevin. Baby. I need you to do something for m—” Sandro’s voice was raspy, and the sentence cut short with a cough that made Kevin alert. Something was wrong.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
“No, but I will be. I need your help.” Every breath Sandro took was like dragged over gravel.
Kevin was already getting up. The self-centered boy in him whispered that Sandro intended to get rid of him without having to talk eye to eye, but that couldn’t be it. Not after the way they made love on the morning Sandro had left.
“What can I do?” he asked with determination flowing through his veins.
“I need you to take a pillow, one of the big ones.”
Kevin frowned. “Huh? Are you drunk or—”
“Kevin, listen to me. I need you to trust me. Grab a pillow—” Sandro took a deep, wheezing breath. “And come down here. There is a spare key under the vase in the corridor.”
“What do you mean ‘down here’? Down where?” Kevin’s voice got a higher pitch, and big hairy caterpillars of fear began crawling under his clothes and making him itch all over.
He had subconsciously known the answer before he heard it.
“To the room that I told you was off-limits. I need you here.”
Kevin’s toes curled, and as his heart thudded more loudly. He realized he hadn’t thought about the forbidden room all that often since Christmas. And now, even though he was invited for the first time, he was afraid instead of curious. And that pillow? He doubted he was meant to take it with him so that Sandro could fuck him in a new position in some secret pleasure room.
“Are you s-sure?” Kevin cursed himself for stuttering. Was this some kind of anniversary test? Was he meant to say no?
“Yes, I need you here. Take a pillow, the key is under the vase. The one with artificial orchids. Stay on the line with me.”