Just Sign Here~ MewGulf Imagine

Chapter 6

Six

Considering I was spending the weekend comparing reports and surveys between our American and European hotels while never venturing far from the pool area, I went easy on Gulf those first two days.

He spent most of the time with Julia anyway, so he was either in swim trunks or casual wear. There wasn't a chance he was ready for me to get involved in helping him into the trunks, resulting in just a quick moment where I watched him put on jeans and a tee.

There was also no privacy granted for me to indulge in having him at my feet during our entire stay in Santa Rosa.

It wasn't until we arrived in San Francisco and to our West Coast headquarters there that I got a moment alone with him. We borrowed an office to go through our contracts one more time, and he kneeled next to my chair until it was time to sign.

"Up you go, pet." I slid my fingers through his hair and gave his neck a gentle squeeze before I withdrew my touch.

He rose to his feet, too shy to make eye contact, and I handed him a pen.

"Just sign here, here, and here."

He'd read through the contracts many times over, and he'd had access to my family lawyer—I'd offered to pay for him to have his own representation too—but he'd declined both. Naïve on his part, even though he'd told me he wasn't new to reading contracts. Even so, for all he knew, I could be some depraved bastard...

"Your trial run is over. You're mine now." I finished with my own signature and stood up. "Look at me."

He lifted his gaze to mine, and it took every bit of restraint not to kiss him. The trepidation in his eyes mingled with something much heavier. It was unmistakable, but I would be patient. His need would grow at the pace he was comfortable with.

That said, the following morning, I dressed him the way I wanted.

We were the only ones awake in our suite, and I'd locked us in the bathroom. Rather, he'd let me in once he'd showered.

I'd already gotten dressed, and I loved the image of us. Me dressed, him in only boxer briefs.

I wanted him in smaller underwear.

"Come here." I sat down on the edge of the bathtub and held his dress pants. "You'd look good in briefs."

He shuffled closer. "I don't know how to respond to that."

I chuckled quietly.

He stepped into his pants and grasped one of my shoulders.

I breathed him in, slowly pulling his pants up, my hands tracing the shape of his thighs. After seeing his upper body exposed in Santa Rosa, I'd longed for this morning. Now I could get a closer look. I could touch him.

His abs were perfectly defined the second he tensed up ever so slightly.

I ghosted my knuckles over the trail of hair leading down from his belly button.

Gulf inhaled shakily, and I wasn't sure he realized that he gripped my shoulder tighter.

His undershirt was next. I stood up, never letting him take a single step back, and pulled the white wifebeater over his head. My hands roamed his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his sides, and his abs again. Then I told him to look at me as I tucked it into his pants. With only a few inches between us, I dipped my hand into his pants, underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, and watched his eyes flutter closed when my fingers brushed over the soft, trimmed hair around his cock.

I was going to do this. Every. Single. Morning.

While he grabbed his button-down with trembling fingers, I adjusted my cock and tugged it firmly.

Fuck.

It was going to be interesting to see who broke first, him or me.

I caught him looking at me more often.

I started coveting the glimpses of lust in his eyes more than a drug addict could crave a fix. It would be so incredibly easy to add amendments of things I wanted to do to him, but I had to hold my ground. And let him come to me.

The toughest moment was Father's Day. I didn't see it coming it all, and I was very moved by his gesture. Gulf helped Julia pick out a Father's Day card for me, and I was treated to dinner at Julia's favorite restaurant—McDonald's.

That night, I almost walked into Gulf's bedroom.

My forty-fifth birthday was next.

We were back in LA after a few shorter trips to Portland, San Jose, and San Diego.

Gulf and Julia woke me up with breakfast in bed, her crawling all over me, asking if she could blow out the candle on my English muffin, and Gulf sitting on the edge of the bed with amusement brimming in his eyes.

"Remember what we were going to do, Julia?" Gulf asked.

She perked up and cocked her head.

Gulf flashed me a slight grin and leaned closer. Closer, closer, closer. Until he brushed his lips to my cheek and whispered in my ear, "Happy birthday, Daddy."

I swallowed hard and felt like a ball of fire had just been dropped on me. It was instantly squashed by Julia landing a wet kiss to my other cheek and exclaiming, "Happ'birfday, Daddy!" but it didn't stop me from seeking out Gulf's thigh. I spread my duvet so it covered his leg, and then I dropped kisses over Julia's adorable face while I stroked the inside of Gulf's thigh, as high up as I dared to go.

"You two are amazing," I murmured. "Thank you for this."

Julia grinned goofily but then declared that this was boring and she wanted "real breakfast."

"Out there!" She pointed toward the living room. "Can't eat here, Daddy."

"I can't? Oh, I see." I chuckled and nodded in thanks when Gulf took the tray from me. "Well, let's have breakfast out there, then."

My birthday marked the end of my touring the West Coast for a while, and we headed for the airport the following evening—after we'd picked up Gulf's first bespoke suit.

He looked like I needed to fuck his brains out.

We boarded a red-eye without Mathis, because he was the only one who wanted a layover—specifically in Denver, where he had friends. But he didn't have to be outside my building until Monday, so he could make his way home however he wanted.

Julia was as calm as ever when we flew, and she slept most of the way. But Victoria and I knew it wouldn't last long. The time difference was too much for Julia on this route, and we prepared ourselves for an epic tantrum.

"Are we in a hurry?" Gulf blinked blearily as we deplaned.

He was starting to look like a seasoned traveler, although the neck pillow around his neck could take a hike.

"If we're lucky, she won't throw a fit until we get home," I said. I carried Julia toward baggage claim, quick strides to stay ahead, and Victoria told us to head straight for the cabstand while she grabbed our bags.

"Daddy," Julia whined.

"I know, darling. We're almost home." I side-eyed Gulf and shook my head in amusement. "Are you going to take that off? You look ridiculous."

He scowled, then stroked the pillow lovingly. "I love my neck pillow. Julia likes it too. Don't you, sweetheart?"

"No!" she snarled.

The face Gulf made was the very definition of "Yikes."

I grinned and kissed her cheek.

"Haters," Gulf muttered. "I'll go help Victoria instead. Bye."

"Bye-bye." Julia waved.

I laughed and aimed for the exit.

It was a crisp morning in Boston, and it felt nice to be home. Summer was on its way here too, but we were in no rush.

"It's nice to be home, isn't it?" I murmured against Julia's hair. She'd buried her face against my neck and let out an occasional complaint to remind me of her presence. "I think we need McDonald's today, too. Don't you?"

"Yeah," she whined. "I'm sleepy, Daddy."

"We'll take a nap on the couch with some movies when we get home," I promised. "Then I believe your toys have missed you."

She sniffled and nodded.

When Victoria and Gulf emerged from the airport, I told him to grab us a cab so I could relieve Victoria of the luggage and Julia's booster seat.

"Get one for Victoria too, please," I added.

"Yes, sir." Gulf walked over to the line for cabs.

After Victoria had returned the cart, she let out a big sigh and smiled tiredly.

"Looking forward to a weekend off?" I asked knowingly.
She chuckled. "Yes and no. I know I'll just have to start cleaning the house. The odds of Tom having done much are not in my favor, and the boys probably need me to go restock the cupboards."

I winced in sympathy. "I've told you to use my cleaning service," I reminded. "Use my delivery service too. In fact, I'll tell Gulf to put in a request as soon as we get home. Don't argue with me."

She smashed her lips shut and gave me a frustrated look.

I smiled.

I liked to win.

A weekend in Boston turned out to be exactly what we needed. I was able to set Gulf up with his own work phone, a corporate card, and all the access codes he could need. Everything would be at the office on Monday. Julia would get some much-needed downtime, and plans were made for her to spend tomorrow with my cousin's children. Lastly, Gulf brought warmth into my home, even as he criticized my decorating style, which, frankly, wasn't mine at all. A company had done it.

"Glass table? Is this the eighties? Come on, sir."

"Jesus Christ, you're wasting this beautiful penthouse when you hide exposed brick with fucking velvet."

"You know, this is a Renaissance revival building. Maybe you've heard of something in New York called the Flatiron Building? Same style. But whereas they send tourists to the Flatiron, you hide yours. Shame on you."

"You make me wanna cry. Bronze statues?"

"I bet there are gorgeous hardwood floors under this hideous carpet."

"Thank God you left the spiral staircase alone. Judging by the rest of your additions, I'm surprised you didn't install an escalator."

"Black marble. Interesting."

The historian in Gulf was making an appearance, and he was a sassy little fucker who didn't hold back.

It was difficult to take the criticism personally, though, when I hadn't truly ever liked it myself. But the penthouse on its own suited me perfectly. I liked old buildings, and I had two floors all to myself, along with a rooftop terrace. Three bedrooms upstairs, then living room, kitchen, and office downstairs.

"First bedroom upstairs is mine, second is Julia's, the guest room after is yours," I told him. "But you might want to use my bathroom. The other one is shared between your and Julia's rooms."

"You're not going to have a go at me for so brutally annihilating your style?"

I smirked and patted his cheek on the way to the stairs. "No, I understand you're just upset that I hurt your feelings about the neck pillow."

"I'm really not, sir!" he hollered after me.

I laughed. "So, do something about it, then. You know how to use my credit cards. Go nuts."

He huffed, glancing around the foyer. "Again, I never know if you're joking or if you're serious."

I liked it that way. It kept him on his toes.

Julia went to bed early that evening. She'd been cranky and throwing fits all day.

Now I received my reward for surviving them. The house was quiet, I'd enjoyed a long, hot shower, and it felt fantastic to be in my own bed. I'd landed stark naked on top of the duvet—everything was fresh and smelling of softener—and I had no intention of moving anytime soon.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd read for leisure.

I couldn't remember the last time I was in bed before ten either.

After adjusting my reading glasses, I placed a hand behind my head and turned the page on my tablet.

Two quiet knocks interrupted my peace, followed by, "Sir, are you awake?"

"I am," I responded. "You're free to come in, but I should warn you that I'm not wearing anything."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "Um, can you cover up, then?"

I stifled a smile and turned another page. "No, I'm too comfortable."

He huffed.

I drew up one knee a bit and waited. Would he faint if he saw the dildo in my nightstand? There was one in the bathroom too, with its own shower mount.

"I wanted to show you something, okay?" Gulf grated.

I chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, I hope I get to see it."

He wasn't anywhere near breaking point, so it couldn't be anything that resulted in the gratification I'd denied myself in the shower.

Gulf cursed. About a second later, the door opened slowly. Pleasure filled my chest, and I took a deep breath. Good boy. Come closer. I peered at him over the rims of my reading glasses, wondering if he was going to lift his gaze off the floor or not.

He'd showered too. His hair was still damp, and he looked comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Well. Comfortable was a relative term.

"What did you want me to see, pet?"

He swallowed hard and shifted his stare the bare minimum, and it seemed to be enough. But rather than quickly averting his gaze, he got stuck. Heat bled across his cheeks, and he just stared. That would cause a reaction soon if he wasn't careful. His eyes on me turned me on beyond belief.

"I, uh..." He closed the door and forced his stare back to the floor. "I haven't kneeled today, and um, I b-bought the underwear you said you thought I should have."

My God.

I took off my glasses and placed them on my nightstand with my tablet.

"Show me." It was impossible to keep the lust out of my voice completely. Soon, it would be impossible to hide it too. "Get on your knees right here next to me and show me."

He let out an unsteady breath, a sound that filled the silence, and walked over cautiously.

At the side of my bed, he gulped in some air and dropped his sweatpants, letting them pool by his feet.

I had no words. The tight, soft-looking gray cotton briefs clung to his skin so fucking perfectly. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I tilted my head and eye-fucked his delectable little ass. Then back to his front, where the fabric hugged his cock and balls. Never before had I envied fabric.

Gulf's breathing sped up as he climbed up to kneel on the mattress, and I followed his gaze to my semi-erect cock.

I tested the waters and brushed my hand up his thigh. "You have no idea how much this pleases me."

His abs clenched when I traced my fingers along the edge of his briefs.

"Do they feel good?" I asked.

He nodded quickly but didn't say anything, nor did he tear his eyes away from my cock.

Wanting to get more comfortable, I wedged another pillow behind my back so I could half sit and stay close enough to touch him. Then I reached down and wrapped my fingers around my cock, stroking it unhurriedly. He kept watching. He kept fucking watching. Christ, I needed him to break soon. I had to have him.

It brought me relief to see he was far from unaffected himself. His cock bulged under the fabric of his briefs, and I couldn't decide whether or not to touch him there. God knew I wanted to.

"Do you enjoy kneeling for me?"

"Yes, sir," he exhaled.

I let out a quiet groan and stroked myself a little harder.

He sucked in a breath.

"Such a beautiful little boy." I couldn't help myself. I slid my hand to his ass and kneaded one of the cheeks firmly, and the whimper that escaped him almost did me in. His cock was straining in his briefs at that point, and I spied the smallest of wet spots darkening the gray fabric. It made my mouth water. "You're going to watch me come, aren't you?"

He nodded jerkily and balled his hands into fists along his sides.

"Very soon," I promised. "All mine..." I groped at his ass, squeezing it until I could see redness appearing in blotchy prints after my thumb. "I own you. Don't I, Gulf?"

"Yes, sir," he moaned.

"That's a good boy." The urgency built up rapidly, and I slipped my hand underneath his briefs. "Say, 'You own me, sir.'"

"You own me, sir," he gasped.

I groaned loudly, fisting my cock tightly, stroking it faster and faster, and felt the pleasure pooling lower and lower. "Say, 'You own me, Daddy.'"

His breathing stuttered, and he quickly cupped his cock, squeezing it. "You own me, Daddy."

"Don't touch yourself," I grunted and pushed away his hand. "Fuck, boy. I'm gonna come. Oh God, Gulf. Daddy's coming." I succumbed to the euphoria, and it ripped through me with a force that would've floored me if I hadn't been in bed. Ropes of come splashed against my abdomen, flooding the air with the scent of sex.

God-fucking-damn.

There was no word to describe how much I'd needed that.

I swallowed dryly and collapsed against the mattress.

"Sir," Gulf gritted. "M-may I be excused?"

I frowned and blinked, squinting up at him, and worry was the first thing that shot up my spine. Until I got a proper look at him. He was practically shaking with need. The wet spot in his briefs had grown larger, and I'd never seen him strung so tight.

He needed to get off. But he wasn't bold enough to ask me to help him. Or maybe he wasn't ready yet.

"If you assure me that everything's all right," I told him seriously, still catching my breath.

He nodded furiously and scrambled off the bed. "Everything is fine, sir, I promise. I promise, I promise. I just gotta go. Oh my God." He tumbled for the door and fled the scene.