Lonely Liam Read online

  Lonely Liam

  An M/m Age Play Romance

  Laurie Lochs

  Contents

  READ FIRST

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Laurie Lochs

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  READ FIRST

  This book includes consensual “water sports” between a 42-year-old and a 20-year-old.

  Prologue

  Liam

  I stared at my boss, unwilling to believe what he’d just said. Me? Fired? I clenched my fists in disbelief.

  After all you’ve done for this firm.

  "It's not personal," Joe, my boss of three years, said while thumbing through a stack of quarterly reports. “We're downsizing, Liam. We need to move on."

  “But sir,” I protested, “I was working on the LaForest account just this week. We were this close. Give me two weeks. I’ll get it through, I swear.”

  "It's over. There's nothing you can do. Either you resign or we fire you."

  My eyes burned. Fighting back tears, I sucked up my pride and signed the resignation form.

  Liam Maxwell had officially resigned from the only full-time job he’d ever had. Only the pen and paper knew the truth.

  "Like I said, it's not personal,” Joe continued, sipping coffee as if he hadn’t just destroyed my life. “In this economy, we can't afford to keep you on."

  I took a final look into Joe's eyes. Then I rose from the chair, grabbed my briefcase and left Keid and Peele’s, the insurance company I’d worked at for decades.

  It especially hurt because Joe was lying. He wasn’t firing me due to market conditions.

  "It's because you're too old." I clenched my fists as I made my way towards my Honda. "They don't want an old person representing the firm."

  I slid into the Honda and gripped the steering wheel. Age discrimination was a real thing in the insurance sales business. For as long as I could remember the older agents got shuffled out as the new ones came in. Fresh, smart, straight out of college, ready to be groomed to become corporate executives.

  The older ones always got shuffled out. I just didn't think it would happen to me.

  I flipped the key in the ignition and began the drive home. If nothing else, I could find solace in the fact that my daddy of three years would be waiting for me. On tough days, he always prepared a bottle and flipped a sweet movie on for us to watch together. Lately, he'd been distant. But I needed him tonight.

  At last I pulled into the driveway. After turning the Honda off, I hurried into the house and set my briefcase on the ground. After wiping my eyes, I shed my suit coat and hung it in the closet. I pivoted and turned into the living room.

  But my heart stopped the minute I saw my boyfriend wiping tears from his eyes on the couch.

  He glanced up. My heart stopped at once.

  “What’s wrong?" My voice was soft and anxious. He didn’t need to speak. Something was up.

  "Liam," he whispered. He stared at the ground. "Please. Take a seat."

  My heart raced. No, this couldn't be happening. Not to me. I needed him to be there for me. Play with me. Read me a story. This seemed all too much like he was planning to break up with me or something.

  At this point, I couldn’t afford to believe it.

  "Take a seat, please. This is hard enough as it is."

  My limbs trembled. I tiptoed across the room and sat across from him.

  Sebastian took a deep breath. “There's no right way to say this. But I met someone new."

  My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?"

  Sebastian looked into my eyes. "Remember how I told you I met with that group of daddies and boys last week?"

  I nodded. He was talking about Asteria, the kink club on the other side of town. We’d gone there once or twice during our relationship. But lately, he'd wanted to go alone when I was at work. I didn't see a problem with it at the time, seeing how I did work a lot.

  Talk about a warning sign I’d completely overlooked.

  "I met a new little, Liam. I'm so sorry."

  My heart seized as tears formed in my eyes. “A… A new little?"

  "Yes. He's fresh out of college. You’d love him if you met him."

  "This can't be happening.”

  Sebastian stared at me with a forlorn expression in his eyes. "I'm going to move in with him by the end of the month. I didn't want it to end like this. But I have to do this for me.”

  “B-But you're my daddy,” I whispered.

  "No," Sebastian said softly. "I was your daddy. It breaks my heart too, beautiful boy. But I can't be your daddy anymore."

  The room spun before me. I couldn't sit in front of this man. How long had he been going behind my back? Months? Years? Since the beginning of our relationship?

  Remember all those nights he snuck off to "the grocery store?" You know damn well he wasn't buying vegetables.

  "I can't be here." I rose from the seat and tore away from the living room. I passed the playroom, where we'd spent so many beautiful afternoons building worlds. It wasn't going to happen, not anymore. I threw myself into my room and let the tears fall freely down my face.

  I'd been booted from my job because of my age. Now, Sebastian kicked me out for a younger man.

  As if I needed the universe rubbing it in my face that I was too fucking old to function.

  I walked to the dresser with shaking hands. I needed my pacifier and blanket. If I didn't have a daddy to give it to me, I'd have to do it myself. But the dresser drawer wouldn't budge.

  Panic filled me. I gripped the handle again, twisting it hard. It still didn't move.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Just open.” I took a sharp breath and slammed the drawer with my fists. A second later, I cried out, my wrist screaming in pain.

  I was breaking.

  My body was just as fucking shot as my heart.

  1

  Liam

  Clouds lingered overhead as I finally pulled up to the anonymous ranch house that, for some reason, was completely unlisted on Google Maps. For miles, trees stretched into the wilderness. Up ahead, the mountains spread before me, blotting out the sun. I couldn’t deny the place was seriously beautiful. But all I could think about was Sebastian.

  Get over it. Scrub him from your mind.

  I took a sharp breath and clenched the steering wheel. Pain seared up my arm but I forced myself to ignore it. Our breakup had been more than two months ago. After he left, I’d had no choice but to move out. Without a daddy to help with the rent, I needed to make it on my own. Starting over at the tender age of 42 wasn't easy. But it was to be expected. Everyone at the insurance firm had to do it eventually. The only difference was that I'd been accustomed to
having a daddy for so long.

  But that all changes today. Once you meet the men inside the ranch, you're going to make an excellent first impression and start your new life. You don't have a choice.

  It was true. I had to focus on the task at hand and bring my A game if I was going to make my brand-new career as a real estate agent work.

  "Deep breath." I inhaled the crisp mountain air and forced myself to focus on the men I’d be meeting soon.

  The men, whose names I could only vaguely remember, had invited me to do a light appraisal of their ranch house. When they bought the place in April, it’d been a rehab project. But they'd done a ton of work, even enlisting the help of two young men to get it spick and span. They wanted to see if the value had jumped on account of their hard work.

  I presumed they’d bought it under market, which was the reason they knew to hire a real estate agent instead of trying to figure out the value themselves. Which meant they obviously saw the value in my services.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure I was qualified to appraise a dilapidated barnyard, let alone a beautifully renovated ranch house nestled snug in the Little Rocky Mountains.

  “Stop," I said through gritted teeth. "You provide value. You're going to help these people see if they’ve made progress on their home."

  I grabbed the folders and heaved myself out of the car. But one look at the ranch house had me jumping back in and slamming the door behind me. Nerves overwhelmed me, causing my breath to grow short and anxious. I turned the car on and blasted the air conditioning, wiping sweat from my forehead. There was no reason to be so nervous.

  Well, no reason except for one.

  Sebastian.

  I bit my lip. All at once, memories of our life together flooded back into my mind. The mornings he’d make a warm cinnamon bottle for me and hold me in his arms. His firm massages, his butterfly kisses. Though I should’ve thrown them out weeks ago, I still had the three onesies he'd bought me over the course of our relationship. I kept them in the top drawer of my dresser, pulling them out every so often for memories. Without a daddy, I needed to make my own bottles, put my own pacifiers in, and tie my shoes myself. But since the breakup, I didn't know if I wanted another daddy again.

  Especially if they could be so flip in casting you aside the second they meet someone young and new.

  I glanced at my watch. I had exactly 5 minutes before I needed to meet the man named Brent for our presentation. Over the phone, he'd told me he was the head of operations at the ranch. I hadn’t paid attention to the details. My mind had been elsewhere, even though I'd been attempting to focus on the task at hand. My thoughts had been with Sebastian, our life together that he'd disrupted in the blink of an eye.

  All due to my goddamn age.

  I had to rein it in. Remember the principles I'd been taught in the real estate course last week. I needed to give them a fair estimate of their home. That was the only way they'd recommend me to their friends and future clients. The only way to build my business.

  I stared at my fingers. They were shaking. I wiped my palms on my black pants and heaved myself up. I was about to open the door when, without warning, a black sedan with a beautiful young man at the wheel flew by and nearly slammed into my car.

  2

  Max

  "Jonah," I said with a laugh, swerving to avoid an unoccupied car. "You can't possibly expect me to get to Bozeman tomorrow. I'm in the middle of nowhere at some godforsaken farmhouse. I don’t even know if I’ll have GPS.”

  My best friend laughed. "I'm not telling you to get to Bozeman. But you’ve gotta know you have clients lined up at the door. Samantha tells me you're going to lose business if you don't hurry back."

  "It's one night. I'll be back tomorrow."

  He let out a sigh. "There's only so much I can do to keep them waiting."

  "I guess everyone is pining after the services of Max Johnson, physical therapist to the stars."

  My friend laughed. “The stars? Really?”

  I grinned. “All my clients are stars. At least, that’s how they feel when I jumpstart their aching bones.”

  "Bullshit."

  “Absolutely not,” I said with a self-assured grin. I was feeling very smug. Teasing my best friend of 10 years never ceased to put a smile on my face.

  "Just hurry back. You’ve got a shitload of clients waiting.”

  I shook my head and snapped off the phone. I leaned back in the seat of my BMW. I slid my phone into my pocket and grabbed my backpack.

  Forcing the conversation with Jonah from my mind, I prepared myself for my inevitable meeting with Oscar, one of my closest friends who I hadn’t seen in 2 years. Last week, I’d been with a client when he invited me to spend a week at the Neverland Hills age play ranch in the Little Rocky Mountains. I couldn't help but say yes. An entire night seeing how daddies and littles operated in the real world without the pressures of society? How could I say no?

  It was a dream come true, especially for a daddy like me.

  Yeah, I said daddy.

  20-year-olds can be daddies, too.

  I grinned and ran my fingers through my hair. My relatively young age wasn't exactly par for the course in daddy/boy relationships. The typical arrangement was for the younger to be the little. But I'd never been a little, and I sure as hell wasn't about to submit to anyone. Since I'd been a teen, the desire to dominate had coursed through my veins like fire. Only when I finally turned 18 was I able to act on it.

  And act on it, I had.

  The first year out of high school, I’d played with close to 10 littles. I’d had two full-time littles I took care of on my own. When I graduated with my associates degree in physical therapy last spring, I'd been able to actually afford a full-time little for the first time in my life. Kyle, the beautiful boy, had been a handful. But he'd been the boy of my dreams.

  Up until the night he broke my heart.

  "Forget him," I muttered, clenching my jaw. Kyle had been the one to take me out of my playboy lifestyle with his voracious need for love and attention. In my gut, something told me he was a dangerous co-dependent. But I didn't care at the time. I adored the way he fawned over me and needed my help. He was barely 18 but I was a perfect daddy to him. Yet as the relationship progressed, he grew distant. Though that was to be expected, eventually our relationship hit an obstacle we couldn't overcome.

  "Max," he'd said one day when I came home from work. I’d spent the entire day helping people with physical ailments. All I'd wanted to do was take my baby boy in my arms and feed him a warm bottle. But one look in his eyes told me that wasn't going to happen.

  "What is it, sweet angel?"

  "We need to talk."

  My heart leapt into my chest. "Is everything all right?"

  “I… I can't do this anymore."

  My jaw dropped. "Get over here and sit next to me, boy. Let's talk this out."

  But he didn't budge. “You’re not getting it. Every time we play, you want to do things that I’m not comfortable with. I tried to tell you but you didn't listen. This weekend, you pushed me pass my limits. I can't forgive you."

  My jaw fell to the floor. "Baby," I'd said. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Please."

  "I can't do golden showers. I thought I could for you. But it's not going to happen."

  I bit my lip. ”If you don't remember, you're the one who said you wanted to try golden showers. I'd never done a golden shower in my life. I thought I was helping you out."

  “No, Max. I've never been into that kind of play."

  "Then why didn't you tell me?" I whispered. "We have a word for that. We've discussed it many times."

  "I didn't want to hurt you."

  It was a punch to the gut. "Baby boy," I whispered. "I was doing this for you. If you’re uncomfortable, you have to say so out loud. That's the only way I'm going to know."

  “No. You needed to intuit that I like gentle play. Bottles, bibs, watching animated shows. I don't like ha
rdcore BDSM."

  "That wasn't what you wrote in our contract. I was going by what you’d said.”

  "I changed my mind."

  I brought my palm to my forehead. "We had a deal, boy. We put open communication at the forefront of our relationship. I was always upfront and honest with you. There were times when I didn't feel comfortable with something and I let you know. You needed to do the same for me."

  "I didn't want to hurt you. I thought if I went along with it you’d let me stay here. But it's too much. I can't keep doing this."

  Then he left forever. In my mind, it was all my fault. What kind of daddy pushed their little past their limits? Yet at the same time, I knew the onus didn’t lie entirely on me. Before our relationship began, I’d sat him down and gone over everything. We’d drafted a detailed contract we both agreed to. At the core of that written agreement was that if he ever felt uncomfortable, he needed to tell me.

  I hadn't played with a little since.

  I didn't know if I would ever again.

  That's not true. You know damn well you'd love to play with a little. But an immature 18-year-old boy who doesn't value communication?

  "You need someone mature," I murmured to myself. "Someone who can express when they're not comfortable."

  I got out of the car. Suddenly, I realized that the car I'd nearly slammed into earlier was running. Someone sat inside.

  I furrowed my brow. Why was someone parked in the driveway? Oscar hadn't mentioned there'd be visitors.

  Then it hit me.