“Yeah, there are definitely more of them.” With the simple statement and the slight emphasis on the wordthem, I outed myself to him.What about you?There was no way I’d ask that question. It wasn’t any of my business.
Maybe he read my mind. “I’m bi. I was with Evie’s mother for a long time, but she… Well, she wasn’t ready for parenthood.”
People passed by on the sidewalk. Others ordered coffee and snacks from the food truck. I glanced down at Evie, whose eyeshad closed as she lay back in her bundle of blankets. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Gil shook his head. “It’s okay. It’s more important for children to have parents who want them. Quality vs. quantity, right?” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on. I have to pick up an order before we head back to the inn. If we wait too long, Evie will fall asleep in the car again on the ride back, and that will mess up her sleep schedule later.”
We stood up, and I dared to rest my hand on his arm for a moment. “You’re a good father, Gilbert. I see a lot of parents in my line of work. You’re doing a good job.”
For a moment, I wondered if he was about to hug me. He leaned in, his eyes fixed on mine, and his hands flexing. His next smile looked happier. “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot.”
Evie stayed asleep through the pickup at a party supply store, the walk back to the parking lot, and the drive back to the inn. I unwrapped her from the blankets and outdoor layers carefully before lying her down in the pack-and-play in Gil’s room. It wasn’t the first time I went in there to manage naptime.
Halcyon Inn meticulously washed the linens, of course, but the unique combination of sweet baby scents and Gil’s lemon and sage body wash scents lingered. I saw the bottle in his shower when I fetched the towels for the laundry service once, and if I picked up the bottle and sniffed the cap, no one would ever know.
The day wound on just like the others despite the revelations on our outing. Gil met with his clients, worked on his laptop, and made a few phone calls in the bedroom with the door closed. I played with Evie, organized dinner, which arrived in the neat, insulated basket from the inn like all the others, and tried to stop thinking about just how good a man Gil seemed to be. And how hot. And single. And bisexual.
I checked the school portal to see if my professor graded the last paper yet – no – and tried to distract myself by chopping up green beans and dicing potatoes onto Evie’s little plate. By the time Gil emerged, hair messed, shirt rumpled, and feet bare, I’d done a pretty good job of pushing any fantasies about my client from my mind. Who knows how I’d avoid them after I clocked off for the day and headed to bed? I couldn’t control my dreams.
Chapter 4
Gilbert
Late that night, I stared at the ceiling and pulled the blankets up under my chin. Evie slept on the other side of the room, peaceful and completely oblivious to her daddy’s angst. I shook my head against the smooth pillowcase and smiled ruefully to myself.
Sam’s words from earlier echoed in my mind. Not the sweet ones about me being a good father. I truly felt like I did my best, and Evie seemed well-adjusted and as happy as a baby could be. No, my brain kept replaying the ones about there being a lot ofthem, meaning straight people. Sam wasn’t straight, I’d told him that I wasn’t either, and where did that leave us?
I shook my head again and turned to my side. It left us in the same professional spot we’d started in. I’d hired him to take care of my daughter, not put up with a single dad’s clumsy flirtations. As if I even knew how to flirt with a man… or anyone anymore. As if that wouldn’t be wildly inappropriate.
Paige had approached and asked me out on that long ago afternoon at college. She moved into my apartment gradually without any real discussion about living together officially. She got me exactly where she wanted me, and then she taught me how to be the man she wanted in her life and in her bed.
The times Paige wanted another man there with us had been some of my favorites. At least they had been at first when she got off on watching me touch and please our partner for the night. I never paidtoomuch attention to those hot strangers, never ignored Paige in favor of rougher skin and harder muscles. I loved her fiercely back then and wanted to do everything to please her. Our sex life was supremely satisfying… until it wasn’t.
I blew the guy too long. I touched him a bit too much. She suddenly didn’t like it when I tasted like another man’s cum. She demanded most of the attention for herself. The things that turned her on in the beginning transformed into nagging complaints. The threesomes were about us, though, and I would never do anything to hurt her.
In the end, she wasn’t happy unless I focused solely on her while the other man touched my back, my thighs, and never anywhere that could bring real pleasure. She still wanted him to pleasure her, though, and there was nothing forbidden when it came to what she could do to him.
Soon enough, our regulars drifted away, and she blamed it on me. I was too forceful, too needy. She hated hearing them beg me to do the things that turned her on at the start… the thingsthat she used to convince me to let other men into our bed in the first place.
I growled and pulled at my hair. It was no good. There was no way I could fall back to sleep with these thoughts bouncing around in my head. I rolled out from under the covers, peeked at Evie to make sure she slept peacefully, and snuck out the door to the bathroom.
Splash icy water on my face? Take a quick cold shower? I didn’t want to do either of those things. Memories washed over me as I stood in the dark bathroom in front of the sink, mental images of a variety of men writhing on the sheets with Paige hovering in the background. She faded away as the memories turned to fantasies of strong arms, flat chests with hard nipples, firm asses, and cocks leaking just enough for me to get a taste.
I closed my eyes and reached down to palm my own throbbing cock and stroke it once from base to tip. I shoved my pajama pants down my thighs and tucked my t-shirt up. My hand knew exactly how to move to make things feel the way I liked them as more fantasies filled my mind. I bent to lick a cock. My fingers pinched a pink nipple. I looked up to see… My eyes shot open as I recognized the face in my fantasy.
Sam with his bright red hair and adorable freckles tilted his head back, his mouth open and gasping, as I explored all those naughty things that Paige hadn’t let me do in the end. I stroked myself faster, gripped harder, precum drooling over the tip to slick the way.
Would he let me…? Did he like…? A jumbled mess of bold things and hidden desires sent shockwaves of pleasure down my spine, and I came with my lip caught between my teeth, my cry strangled in my throat so no one would hear. My breath shuddered as my heart returned to its normal rhythm.
In the dark bathroom, I caught my eye in the mirror over the sink. Shame coursed through me, stealing all the good feelingsthat came post orgasm. What kind of creep jerked off to thoughts of the person paid to watch his child? I scrubbed my hands under the faucet and washed away any evidence of my guilty fantasy.
A crash sounded from beyond the bathroom door, the sharp, shattering sound of glass, and I yanked it open and bolted out before I could think. Was Evie hurt? What happened?
It didn’t take a minute to realize that of course Evie wasn’t in the kitchen by herself, nor could she reach the glasses in the high cabinet. Everything was quiet in my bedroom. In the silent moment after the crash, a low voice cursed. I rounded the corner, took a step past the table, and saw a sight that stopped my breath in my throat.
The nightlight by the sink glowed just enough to line Sam’s body, the pale stretch of his back and the trim, muscled length of his arm as he reached out for another shard of glass on the floor. His thighs tensed and flexed as he supported himself on the balls of his feet. The perky globes of his ass cheeks were covered in pale blue briefs so sheer I could make out the dark cleft between them even in the dim light.
Maybe I moaned or made some other kind of hungry sound, or maybe it was just the sound of the bathroom door and my feet on the boards.
