Dylan's POV
A million possibilities played through my mind but I shoved them aside. Andy wouldn't do that. He wasn't the type of guy my father was used to dealing with. But at the back of my mind the little voice still whispered. Why was he talking to my father at the charity? I'd assumed that it was because my father would've done his research on him, but what if it was something else? What if he had known Andy from before I'd met him? And obviously there was something going on, since he had his number.
"It's not what you think," Andy had said. I nodded woodenly throughout his explanation. This was the man that didn't like secrets, keeping one. The feeling soured in my chest and I felt an anger begin to rise.
He kissed me goodnight at my door, and backed away slowly, painfully aware that I was mad at him. His forehead creased with worry and he chewed a little on his lower lip. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it. I just... I can handle your father Dylan, I didn't want to worry you." He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. "Goodnight."
He didn't reach far before I made my decision. Call me a horny bastard, but I didn't go through everything I just did for a fucking kiss, the deal was, 'I get lucky'. "Andy?" He spun around at the sound of my voice, relief flashing over his face. "Technically it is the second date... want a nightcap?"
I woke sore and happy, with my face pressed against Andy's smooth chest. I breathed him in, wondering if I would be able to sniff out an answer. Was he another Stanley? All I got was a lungful of Andy, a musky scent that reminded me of the river again. The thought made me giddy. I was sure we'd put on quite the show out there for anyone who wanted to see two gays get some action in water. Damn, I would've wanted to see it myself. When was the last time I'd awoken in a mood like this? Probably never.
Andy seemed like he needed the sleep so I slipped out of bed, not waking him and lowered myself in a nearby chair to watch him. He always seemed as if he was at peace with himself, but right now, asleep, I found that he reminded me of a younger version of himself. Looking back later, I would recognize this as the moment that I fell in love with him.
I got the best idea for waking him up. Last night he didn't allow me to touch him. Insisting on making it all about me, he'd even busted out the nipple clamps. Fucking amazing! Despite the deal, I came first, and he felt the need to discipline me for it. But now, it was time for me to play. I got under the sheets, I loved how the wine colour made everything look that much sexier from underneath. I settled between his legs and got to work, licking every bit of flesh my tongue could reach.
I felt when he stirred, with my tongue just barely rimming him so that he came awake all of a sudden. He got impossibly harder and a hand found my head even under the sheets to guide me back onto his dick.
"Wake me up any day." Andy sounded drunk after he came. I could tell he was thinking about waking up to me every morning and smiled to myself. He was so into me.
Louisa messaged me as I was on my way to work. The text was simple and direct, with no familiarity whatsoever. If she had the steel for seeing blood Louisa might make a great secret agent. "Change of schedule: your parents want to see you over brunch. At the suite they're staying at right now in Tennessee."
I could've spent the entire drive imagining the breakfast topics my father likely had in mind. I just couldn't find it in myself to care. If it wasn't about Andy it would be something else. But right now I could walk on fucking sunshine.
I met my mother in the dining room, already seated as usual. My father liked to keep her waiting. I suppose it was acceptable, since she did nothing to keep her busy. I leaned in to kiss her cheek and she rested a hand around my neck and played with my baby hairs. "Hey."
She smiled a sheepish smile and tossed her wavy black hair as she replied, "Hey. Your father will be back in a minute."
"I prefer it this way actually," I told her, settling into a chair opposite her as she hushed at me, raising a finger. "Right," I amended, "He walks on water, heals the sick and casts out demons. Yadda yadda. In which state is it a sin to badmouth your dad?"
She didn't respond to that, switching the topic instead. "How's the house?" It was always the house. Never my house. She had never stopped pining away for Liam, and if I was being totally truthful, neither had I.
"Still has standing walls and a roof but I'll knock those out soon," I teased. "Mom, why am I here?"
"Can't a mother want to see her son? You never call, or visit or even say hello..." Mothers knew how to buy you a fast ticket to the guilt train instantly. Regardless of my feelings I felt sorry for her. It couldn't be her fault after all. It was my father I wanted to punish anyway.
"Yeah well I've been busy. But seriously, this family doesn't do anything just to say 'hi', and you know it. If I told you something would you even hear me out?"
"Of course I would! You're my son," she rattled.
"I've always been your fucking son!" I hissed at her. "You conveniently remember that fact. You don't know anything about this family, or if you do you just shut your eyes and wait until your husband pays for the problems to go away. I doubt you even know me." When she stayed silent I added, "Or your husband..."
Her eyes widened, then fixated behind me and I knew that my father had entered the room. She only ever had eyes for him in the room. It was disgusting how little individuality she had left. I refused to turn around as my father crossed the room.
Perhaps it was petty but I didn't want to even acknowledge him until it was absolutely necessary. I hadn't felt this confident in years. Something about Andy had returned a little of me to myself. The bile rose in my throat as I realised that it was a similar dependency that made me like my mother.
A curvy young woman with bangs took a seat to the right of me and I frowned automatically. Who the heck was she? Panic set in as I realised what this meeting was about and I wanted to get up and leave. When I stood my father intervened, placing a hand on my shoulder and casting me a threatening smile, "My boy, glad you made it. Geez, you're tense," He laughed and squeezed my shoulder, so hard that my eyes smarted, "Sit down, we can eat like a family now and then, no big deal."
He practically pushed me into the seat opposite the woman, who seemed genuinely surprised as he sank into what was previously my seat. I regretted not spitting in the cup of tea when he rose the cup to his lips and drank deeply. When he was finished he introduced us, "Alyssa, this is my son Dylan Ryman, Dylan, I'd like you to meet Alyssa Clarke." He said the name with obvious emphasis on her last name. What was wrong with the man? This was too obvious, and pretty darn low even for him. Clarke owned everything from aquariums to Hospice for the elderly and infirmed. They were another old family name like ours. I knew they had a daughter of course, but never paid much attention.
"Pleasure to meet you," I responded to Alyssa perfunctorily, but made no attempt to get up and shake her hand. She hadn't moved either. In fact she had done very little except stare at me from the time she sat at the table. I watched my father go red in the face, likely embarrassed with how I was behaving. That's good, more please. "So do you wanna get married Alyssa?"
My mother let out her very motherly embarrassed gasp, "Oh Dylan, really. Alyssa I'm so sorry for -"That was always my mother's job. To be sorry for things, and to insist on the courtesies so my father didn't have to say words that didn't exist in his vocabulary.
Alyssa snorted, very unladylike, "I don't believe in marriage."
"Then we agree on something now, at least we can be friends. I'm glad that's settled, good to know," I said and began smile, polishing my palms and getting up.
"Sit down Dylan!" I sat. "And Alyssa, I don't believe in God but I go to mass." It was true. And he was a very generous contributor to the church, which somehow would redeem him from the very depths of hell. I never got how that worked.
Alyssa looked away, seeming pissed at being handled. I tried to communicate my understanding from across the table. My father handled everyone and everything. What dirt could he have on Alyssa now?
"I need a drink," I snapped and looked around the table which only had cups and saucers for tea or coffee and scones and bread rolls accompanied by little jars of marmalade and honey. I felt frustrated as I signaled for a waiter. "Scotch please." My mother huffed.
"Make it two," Alyssa added.
I heard my father's breath, like that of a fire breathing dragon but he let me order the drink without a word. He began to break apart rolls rather gleefully, drizzling each with honey before biting into it. I wished diabetes on him with every sugared tea cup and bite of sweetened roll. Maybe he heard my thoughts because he said, "One day you'll be taking over the company... but I have a condition. You need to marry before I will anything over to you."
"I don't want your company or your money," I retorted, knowing it wasn't that simple. Turning my back on them wouldn't be just the money and the name. It would mean me in an asylum, or me cut off completely and blacklisted on the job markets. I would be undesirable number one.
My father ignored my comment like I hadn't said a word and continued, "Alyssa's father and I made a deal, and the only thing left is to tie the knot."
"Wow. Courtship and choice really are dead to you," Alyssa muttered. 'It's not the fucking 1920's."
"And then there's the problem of me liking cock," I threw out there to see the reactions. My mother's spoon clattered to the table as she insisted that I apologize. My father's jaw clenched so tight that I began to imagine him with the dentures he'd need as replacement for all his teeth. Alyssa appraised me with a new respect. I definitely was surprising her by the second. Fuck I was surprising myself.
My mother proceeded to lecture to me about the punishments of hell for homosexuality and I rose a hand to her, "All along with the fornicators, adulterers, drunks and the like, I won't be lonely mother, you can stop worrying. Only problem is I might see my father there."
"Up. Now." My father commanded and gestured towards the balcony. "You'll excuse us now," he directed at the table and I got up smiling in the face of his death glare. "My son and I need to talk."
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A/N: Nothing like a healthy cloud of doubt over a relationship for a book.... I'm looking forward to playing that out so watch out for it. As usual you can always let me know what's on your mind about the book. You can even torture yourself by trying to get me to tell you what happens but you should know those amuse me more than anything else LOL.
Stay golden!
-Ender Xen