Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Mmm. I see. Boyfriend keeping you up late?”
Duke smirked. How cute. “Can’t exactly say that. I sure wish, though.”
His comment was met with silence and Duke thought that maybe he’d grossed the kid out until a moan almost too soft to hear reached his ears, and Duke wondered if Vaughan was doing something… maybe with someone else while he was on the phone. Until he spoke again.
“What else do you wish for, Duke?”
“W-what?” Duke stammered in response to the loaded question.
“Oh, never mind. I’ll find out soon enough,” Vaughan said casually.
Duke laughed, more so from nervousness rather than anything striking him as funny. There was no mistaking Vaughan’s coy tone.
“Good night, Duke. Sleep well.”
The next thing he knew, the line was dead. Duke was speechless. Fuck. And hard.
Vaughan didn’t bother telling his dad that Duke had called. He laid in bed that night thinking about his plan. He’d been attracted to his father’s friend since he first brought him around. Even then, Vaughan knew his true orientation, because Duke could make him hard as steel just by entering the room. All that before the man spoke a word in that deep-southern-down-home-drawl. He didn’t sound like a hick, but sort of like a hot cowboy. Vaughan shook his head as he ran his large hand down the smooth patch of hair in the center of his chest, all the way to his cock. He pulled on his considerable length a couple times, imagining Duke kneeling next to him, watching him pleasure himself.
When he was a junior in high school, he’d come over to his dad’s on the weekends praying that Duke would come by. Whenever he did, Vaughan would have to restrain himself from confessing his love, knowing Duke wouldn’t reciprocate. Would have nothing to do with a kid. At that age, Vaughan couldn’t have taken being laughed or cooed at for having a—what grownups considered—puppy love crush on the older man. Instead, he’d observed Duke from afar. Touched himself as he watched Duke and his dad play catch in the backyard. Daydreamed about Duke sneaking into his room while everyone else was downstairs enjoying the barbeque. Shit. He head a ton of jerk off material. He paused mid-stroke, his back arching from the intense feeling of anticipating having Duke soon. He wouldn’t beat off. Not now. He’d wait. Let all the pent up want and need for the man he was destined to have build until he got what he had desired for so long.
He’d just known that when he came home Duke would be playing house with that big bastard, Judge. Imagine his surprise when he called during finals last year and his father told him that Judge had fallen in love with someone else and chose to end the “arrangement” he had with Duke. Vaughan had wanted to pump his fist in victory, knowing that Judge had been his only real competition. But his celebration was short-lived when his dad told him how upset Duke was. He’d told him that he tried to hide it from everyone, but when he thought no one was looking, Duke got a real forlorn look on his face. It took everything in Vaughan not to leave school right then and run back to Atlanta to comfort Duke. He couldn’t, not then. He had to be a man when he went back, wouldn’t give Duke an excuse to associate him with the kid he was when he saw him last. He was tall like his father, six-two, built strong, with tightly packed muscles, cropped dark hair that required little product, and then his best asset… his mind. He was brilliant. “A force to be reckoned with,” his law school mentor would say.
Now he was back to finally claim his reward. While he wasn’t a virgin by any means—he needed to be good when he got Duke, wanted to know how to give him the pleasure he deserved, but Vaughan had never given his heart to anyone.
“You want breakfast?” his father called out from the kitchen after Vaughan had poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Sure. Just something quick. I have to be there by nine.” Vaughan smoothed down his pale pink and ivory striped tie. He opened up the newspaper already on the table and went for the finance section first to check on his stocks, that would be quickly followed by the real estate section, so he could find his own place.
“You’re dressed like a model, not a DA,” his dad said, setting a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. “Where’d you get that suit?”
“Barcelona. Why? What’s wrong with it?” Vaughan looked down at the charcoal gray, immaculately tailored suit. His light pink, collared shirt matched the tie perfectly. His gray Donna Karan lace-up oxford dress shoes set off the entire look.