Page 34 of His Dad Will Do
His cheeks turn pink and he runs his fingers over the keyboard, repeating the final chords of the song. “You think so?”
“I do. There won’t be a dry eye in the house.”
He snorts. “Yeah, if I can ever finish it and find someone to produce it.”
“You will,” I tell him. James Cohen is first on my list, but he’s not the only producer I know.
Silas ducks his head and his hair falls into his face. I come up behind him at the piano and stroke his head. His hair is silky and baby-fine, the strands slipping through my fingers like water.
“It’s just hard, you know?” he says. He’s looking at his fingers, twisting and flexing in his lap. “Living with Lance helped, because I didn’t have to pay rent. I mean, I like my job, actually—it’s great for people-watching and the tips are usually excellent.”
Silas works for a catering company that does high-end events. Not the one my firm hired for its party, thank Christ. I don’t know what he’d have done if the guy blowing my asshole son had been a colleague.
“But I’m gonna have to work more events now and that’s less time to write and there just aren’t enough hours in the day, you know?”
“I know, baby,” I say softly. I shift so that I can massage his shoulders, digging my fingers into the muscles over his shoulder blades, working out the tension there. “I’ll—”
“I’m not asking for help,” he says suddenly. “I’ll be fine, really. I’m just…bitching for no reason, I guess.”
No reason except losing his boyfriend and the place he was living, all at once. Damn Lance for doing this to him. Except that if he hadn’t, Silas wouldn’t be here with me right now.
I hold off on telling him about the arrangements I’ve just made. Later. When he’s not thinking about his ex-boyfriend. When I can figure out a way of explaining how honored and happy helping him would make me. Without damaging his pride or suggesting he can’t take care of himself.
I know he can. I just don’t want him to have to.
“That feels nice,” Silas murmurs. I’m still massaging his shoulders and I press my thumbs on either side of the channel of his spine and drag them firmly down to just about his waistband. Silas groans just like when I suck him and it goes straight to my cock.
I pull him upright so his back is against my chest. He tips his head back and looks up at me. I smooth the hair back from his forehead. “Silas,” I say. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. There’s plenty of time to achieve your dreams.”
His lips purse and he blows a puff of air. “Is that your way of telling me I’m just a kid?”
“Is that what I said?”
Another puff of air and he blinks those green eyes. “No,” he concedes. “But…”
“But what?”
Silas shrugs, which causes his back to rub against the hard line of my erection. I shuffle closer to him and my cock slots along the channel of his spine. “Does that feel like I think of you as a kid?”
“No.” His heartbeat picks up and he squirms on the hard seat of the piano bench.
Nineteen
Silas
I’d managed to forget about the cock cage and the plug in my ass while I was working, but now I can’t think of anything else. Except Logan’s hard dick pressing against my spine and his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight.
I seriously don’t know why Logan puts up with me. Who comes to seduce a man like him and then spends most of the time not fucking? I mean, yesterday, I slept half the afternoon. This morning, Logan promised to fuck me—something I’ve wanted since the day I met him, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time—and now it’s almost noon and I’ve just been dicking around on his piano instead of letting him dick me down.
And to top it off, I keep bitching about Lance. Who wants to fuck someone who can’t keep another man out of their head?
And okay, it’s not Lance himself I keep thinking about, but what I’m going to do now that Lance and I broke up. But none of that is Logan’s problem and if I keep being a buzzkill about where I’m going to live and how I’m going to have to get a real job to pay rent and whatever, then I should go and deal with my problems instead of taking up his weekend.
“Whatever you’re thinking about can wait.” It’s Logan’s Daddy voice. The one that shuts up the constant stream of anxious thoughts running through my brain.
I let my head fall back against his chest and close my eyes. He wraps one hand around my throat. “Look at me, Silas.”
I open my eyes and look up at him. He’s staring down at me, his hazel eyes serious, his lips in a firm line.
