He rolls his eyes. "Okay, this isn't fun. That's not the kind of daddy-play I had in mind. I'm a big boy. I don't need you to tell me what to do."
This time it's him that shoves off the couch. "Where are my shoes?" He stomps around, clearly pouting and as much as I try to fight it, a smile tugs at my lips.
"Sit down," I tell him.
"No."
"Yes."
"No," he says again.
"Yes." Holy fuck, why in the hell am I letting myself argue with him? "Would you sit your ass down? You're giving me a headache, and I didn't even drink last night. You have to feel like shit. In case you don't remember, you were drunk enough that you climbed into my goddamned car and passed out on my lap."
He perks up. "On your lap? Damn it! Why don't I remember that?"
I roll my eyes at him, and he finally sits. "Just so you know, I'm sitting down because I want to, not because you told me to. I only listen to someone else if they have their dick in my ass at the time."
What the-"Who are you?" I ask.
"I'm Derek." He gives me a huge smile as though we're not in the strangest situation in the world. "And you are?"
"Out of my fucking mind." I should never have brought this kid home with me. I make my way to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. "First of all, how old are you?" It's obvious he's legal, but I'm not sure quite how legal he is.
"Twenty-six. You?" Some of the heaviness in my gut lessens. He's got such soft features, smooth, unaged skin, and with him being so much smaller than I am, I thought he was younger. He sure as shit looks younger.
"Thirty-seven," I reply.
"Oh." He sounds sad about that. "You looked older."
I turn to look at him. "Are you shitting me right now?"
"In a good way! I told you I like daddies. I love the gray in your beard." So he told me last night. "It's hot-trimmed well too. Not too much. I love the way the short, rough hairs feel when they rub against my-"
"Don't," I cut him off, already feeling exhausted but I have to admit, if the situation was different, I wouldn't mind making his skin burn from the rub of my facial hair.
I finish making the coffee, and as it starts to brew, I lean against the entryway to the kitchen and cross my arms. There's something intriguing about this kid … about Derek.
"You're looking at me like you don't know what to do with me. I have a few ideas but you're going to have to let me drink some coffee first, 'Out-of-My-Fucking-Mind.' "
"What?" I ask.
"I told you my name and you said yours was 'Out-of-My-Fucking-Mind.' I'm assuming that's not what you meant but until you tell me, it's that or Daddy. Your choice."
"Jackson," I grumble.
"You're grumpy, aren't you?" he asks.
I swear, I don't even know what to say to him. "Yes, I am. I've been divorced for a few months. I went out last night, hoping to get laid, I might add. That didn't happen and then as I'm on my way home, some drunk kid stumbles into my car and passes out on my lap. I offer to call his friend, but he asks me not to, leaving me no choice but to take him home … where I end up sleeping on the floor because I didn't want him to choke on his own vomit while he was sleeping. Now that he's awake, he's done nothing but give me shit, so no, I'm not in the best of moods."
There's a flash of hurt that sparks across Derek's face so quickly, I'm not sure if I imagined it.
"Man or woman?" he asks.
"Huh?" I can't keep up with him.
"You said you were divorced. Man or woman?"
"Woman."
"Who were you looking to fuck last night?"
"Man," I admit.
"Oh God!" He flops against the back of the couch dramatically. "Are you just out of the closet? Please say yes. That would be so hot. Why is that so hot?"
I rub my temples because he really is giving me a headache. "I'm not just out of the closet."
"You're still in?"
"I'm … " Why am I considering telling him anything? "I'm not in or out. I'm … exploring my options," I say which is partially a lie. I've always known I was attracted to both men and women. I just didn't get a chance to experience men because of my circumstances with my ex-wife, Stephanie.
The coffee finishes. I make us each a mug and take one over to him.
Derek looks at the coffee, then at me, and back at the coffee. "It's black," he says.
"That's because I drink it black and for this morning, you will too."