"That's not what it is. I mean, yeah. But I know you well enough to know that something's been bothering you all night. What is it? Tell Bottom Boy so that he can suck your dick and make everything all better."
He smirks. "I went to see my mom today."
"Oh, is something wrong? Why didn't you tell me?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. I've just been doing a lot of thinking."
"About?" I'm surprised by how desperate the word sounded as I said it. It's this worry that lingers in the back of my mind-that he's going to back out of this. That he'll realize we've gotten in too deep and leave.
Because the other shoe has to drop at some point. That's the way it always is.
I curb my suspicion. I should at least hear what he has to say before I start driving myself crazy with what he might want or not want with me.
His eyebrows pull together the way they do whenever he's in deep thought about something, and his gaze keeps drifting, as though he can't just focus on the moment.
"Us … "
"Yeah, I've been thinking a lot about us, too."
I can tell he's taking this way too seriously, so I try to lighten the mood for him.
"About that dick of yours in my tight, needy hole. About you having me propped up on the bathroom sink as you fucking take me."
I take his hand and slide it back into the front of my jeans, under my briefs. "See what you do to me?"
He grins, and I feel like I've just claimed some victory, if only for easing this tension he's been carrying around all night.
"I'd say that cock's yours anytime you want it," I tell him, "but I think that it's the other end that really gets you going."
"I mean, the cock isn't bad either."
"So I've been told."
He laughs. "You know it's more than about your body, though, right? You're very special."
As his words hit my ears, I feel like any tension that lingered within me has dissolved.
"You make me feel special every time we're together. A talent Daddy has."
"You just love calling me Daddy, don't you?"
"You like it when I say it, too. When I beg you to fuck me, Daddy. To fuck me-"
"Holy shit," someone beside us says.
I turn sharply to see a young guy flanked by two other guys around his age.
His gaze jerks between me and Jackson before it settles on my crotch … and as much as I don't want to admit it, he looks familiar. Like a younger version of Jackson.
Fuck. He still has his hand in my pants. He pulls it away as quickly as he sees the kid.
"Zane," he says.
Oh, fuck. This is a shitty way to come out to his kid.
Or … I guess come out to each other … or, God, I don't even fucking know right now.
"Dad?" Zane asks, and I can tell by the confused expression he makes that he's totally thrown right now. "Did he just call you Daddy? What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"Um … I think I know why you're both here," I say because I can't help myself. It was too obvious.
Jackson glares at me. Reminds me of when Gary shouts at me, "Not helping!"
31
Jackson
My head spins. I was just about to tell Derek I wanted something more serious with him, that I wanted to give this a shot for real and now my son is looking at me like he doesn't know who the fuck I am.
What had I been thinking? I should have talked to Zane first. Should have eased him into the idea. Should have-"What the fuck, Dad?" Zane interrupts. "You just had your hands down his pants and he called you Daddy."
I can see how that would be confusing to him but that's not what comes out. The first thing I say to him is, "Watch your language."
"Watch my language? Watch my fucking language? Are you kidding me, right now? Jesus Christ. How old is he? He looks younger than I am."
His friends stare at us with wide eyes. Some of the people around us stop dancing and start watching, Zane's voice rising above the music.
"I'm not. I'm twenty-six," Derek cuts in. "I know it's a shock. I get it but-"
"Fuck you. You don't know shit. Don't pretend to know how I feel catching my dad jerking off some kid in a club, while the guy calls him Daddy." He says the last word on a sneer.
"Hey." I step forward and hold my hand up to him. "I get that you're confused and you're pissed at me, but don't talk to Derek that way. This isn't his fault."
"And now you're going to take his side? I asked you to hang out tonight and you said you couldn't because of him? I … " He shakes his head and my heart breaks with it. I've never wanted my son to look at me with disappointment. Never wanted him to wonder if he was the most important person in my life. Never wanted him to feel like his father was a bigger child than him, but here I am jerking someone off in a club? What the fuck is wrong with me?