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Owning It (Metropolis #3)(68)

By:Riley Hart


He pauses, then says, "No … they don't. Only you."

"Because I saw you by accident."

This time when he looks away, I let him but only because he's burrowing his face in my neck and licking at my skin again. "No … I have a feeling you would have known regardless. I would have told you."

My heart goes wild and I pull him close. I feel his breath on my skin and his pulse against mine.

"That's because you're Daddy's good boy," I tell him, and my voice cracks when I do.

"Yes," he replies and then I hold him the rest of the night.





28




Derek


"Jesus fucking Christ," Gary says between heavy breaths. "We can stop for like two seconds, right?"

"What are you complaining about?" Hayden asks. "This is a breeze after all our practice runs."

"You obviously weren't up all night getting reamed by a fat cock."

"Shows what you know," Hayden says with a wink before adjusting the red sweatband around his head, which matches his shorts.

"Pfft," I interject. "As far as I'm concerned, you're both amateurs."

Hayden shakes his head. "Everyone's an amateur next to you."

I run between my buddies as we finish the last stretch of the 10K with the crowd that makes its way through Boulder Crest Park. It's a good turnout, which is reassuring because last year wasn't so great. But it means a lot to me to see so many people caring about an event that will raise so much for Alzheimer's research. As we work together, nearing the finish line, I think about how fucking lucky I am to have friends like Hayden and Gary who, when I suggested this, said yes without skipping a beat. Not even knowing why I wanted to do it. Not asking questions. Just signing up because I asked them to. I figure, like with Jackson, they know something's up. It's not every day that I suggest we participate in a fundraiser, and even though I used the hottie boys who'd be in the run as my excuse, I doubt they totally bought it considering there are plenty of similar fundraisers and events that I've never asked them to be involved in.



       
         
       
        

I feel like I should say something-just spit out the real reason. I've needed to tell them for a long time, and after discussing it with Jackson, I feel like this is something I can do.

"You know, about this run," I say.

They turn their heads toward me, awaiting my confession. Judging by their expressions, it's like they already know. Not the details, but that I'm about to tell them something important.

"Yeah?" Gary asks, continuing to huff and puff, and now that he mentioned it, I notice he's kind of running funny. Definitely like a guy who was plowed a little too hard last night.

"Thank you, guys, for helping me out; it means a lot," I say. I want to tell them about Uncle Randy, but the words are stuck in my throat, and it seems like so much work to force them past my lips.

"No biggie," Hayden says.

"Yeah. We got you, Derek. Was there anything else you wanted to tell us?" I can see the look in Gary's eyes, like he's asking me if I need help right now. And even though I do, I don't think I'm ready yet, but I can't figure out why the fuck not.

"You guys are just really great friends," I say. "And I don't tell you that enough."

"You're a good friend, too, Derek. Sometimes hard to deal with … "

"And sometimes just hard," Hayden adds. "But you know, we're always here for you if there's anything you need to talk about … if you need us. We're like those Muppets who show up at the end of Labyrinth."

"What?" Gary asks.

"Nothing, sorry. Cody and I are just on a Jim Henson kick lately."

I appreciate the subject change, and that even though I wasn't ready, they both made it clear that I could come to them when I am.

As we reach the finish line, we lock hands and raise our arms in the air for the big pic.

Jackson, Travis, and Cody stand off to the sides, taking pics and hollering out their support. We collect our gift bags from a table and wipe down with the towels in them. I throw off my shirt and change into the one in the bag, noticing how Jackson ogles me during the change-like all he wants to do is pull me aside and fuck the hell out of me.

"Patience, Daddy," I tell him.

We head out and get a bite to eat down the street at Mike's before returning to Metropolis, where we split up. I'm pretty sure everyone in the gang has the same idea right now: we need to clean up our filthy bodies and fuck our hot men.

Ooh, gonna be sore tomorrow.

As we enter my condo, my phone buzzes, and I check it.