Kissing Kyle Read online

  But Bruce hadn’t even tried to be understanding towards me, like when I explained that it hadn’t been my fault, that night when the two boys crept into my room after Bruce had gone on a business trip and, unbeknownst to me, climbed into my bed and started… Touching me.

  Doing things.

  Things that would follow me the rest of my life.

  One second, I’d been sleeping like an angel on a cloud. The next, a gaggle of wide-eyed cherubs had climbed into my bed and rubbed their haloes against the tip of my wings.

  And so, without hearing my side of the story, Bruce left me and moved onto a new man that wanted nothing to do with baby things, even though he’d been the one who wanted to do baby things from the start. You know, ABDL shit with diapers and pacifiers. He fucking roped me into it, then drained half my accounts, the cars, and tore the life we’d built together apart. The only thing I kept was the business and the house, which I guess had too many bad memories for him to want to stay.

  I know what you’re thinking. Stop bitching. You got to keep the number-one residential brokerage in the entire Midwest. You’re way too privileged to feel sorry for yourself.

  Well… That might be the case if things hadn’t petered off the day after he filed the divorce paperwork. I didn’t know if it was because I lost my confidence or what, but business hadn’t been the same. For the first two years, I still fought and managed to close enough deals to stay afloat, but over the past six months I hadn’t been able to close shit. Let alone expand, which was my original goal when I started the firm. Bruce’s leaving sapped every bit of confidence I had in my ability to run a successful company. Over the past few years our rating slipped from number 1 to 4.

  And today, of all days, the day that actually held some promise for the first time in recent memory, the last thing I needed was to focus on that which I couldn’t change. Though Fortuna, the Roman goddess of luck, had thrown me for a loop, she hadn’t stopped smiling on me just yet… The firm was still solvent. And on a positive note, I’d signed up to volunteer at a real estate class at a local community college for my friend Peter Higgins, one of the top real estate salespeople in the Midwest, that started next week and was sure to boost my confidence. It was actually the same college I’d taken my courses at, decades ago. There was nothing like students looking up to you as an authority figure to stoke the ego. I was making small steps. God forbid I let some memory of a failed marriage deter me from turning the sinking ship around.

  At last, I reached Nino’s. It was mid-afternoon. I used to come to this very pizza shop every other weekend in college, when I was so drunk I would have traded my soul for a slice of greasy pizza. It was a damn shame the yuppies moved in and wanted shit like salads and fresh Buddha bowls. They left no room for a business like Nino’s to grow. And the coronavirus, which had decimated half the neighborhood, sure as hell didn’t help. I was glad to see Nino’s was still afloat, although I hadn’t done shit to support it since college.

  I parked the slick BMW in the empty lot and walked to the door. I prepared the words I had to say: “Large pepperoni for Mark.” I was definitely not going to say that it was for two people, or that my assistant would eat one slice, leaving me to devour the rest the second I was done depositing quarterly checks at Wells Fargo, which was the next admin task on the schedule. No, I was going to say, “Large pepperoni for Mark.” Four short words. I would be fine.

  I opened the door. Yet before I could speak, a flash of light suddenly darted across the counter. My jaw dropped the minute I looked up.

  It was a boy.

  Not just any boy. This boy, well… Shit. He looked familiar. The light brown hair, soft freckles, pointy nose. His black apron had a bit of flour smudged on it and the rainbow bracelet around his wrist looked at least five years old. And his cheeks were rosy like I’d stumbled across him at a bad moment and embarrassed him.

  I knew this boy. From where, I didn’t know; but I knew him.

  I approached the counter. I wanted to ask his name, but before I got a chance, he suddenly cleared his throat and said, “Large pepperoni?”

  My eyes shot open. I opened my mouth to speak but the words got stuck in my throat. The boy still hadn’t looked up from the register. On his chest, a black and white name tag read, Kyle.

  Kyle… Kyle? No, it can’t be.

  “Large pepperoni?” the boy repeated, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand so as not to get his palms dirty. He glanced up but quickly looked back down, sending a bead of something translucent and light-tinged flying to the counter.

  Oh, shit. He’s crying.

  Well… Fuck. It looked like he’d been crying for hours. Did he get bad news? Was a customer mean to him? I remembered my days working in food service when I was a teenager. God, I’d cried like a baby when a customer chewed me out for not having his bacon cheeseburger ready in five minutes even though there had been a line out the door and there was no way I’d been able to make his order on time. If something like that happened, I wanted to comfort the boy, bring him close and let him know that, though customers were assholes, I was anything but. Well, for the most part. I could promise I wouldn’t be an asshole to him, even though I was to everyone else, at least according to Bruce…

  But I did nothing of the sort, mostly because that would have been insane. Instead, I simply nodded. Yes, one large pepperoni. For Mark. Say my name, boy. Call me Mark. I’ve never been a Daddy to a real boy before, but… Something about you makes me want to try.

  I was about to speak to him, but before I could get the words out he whipped around and retreated to the back of the counter, where he began tidying with a mop. His eyes never met mine.

  So instead of comforting him, I paid for the pizza and left. But not before slipping a $100 bill in the tip jar. Over my shoulder, I took one last glance at him. He was eyeing the $100 bill and staring up at me. But the minute our eyes met, he quickly looked away and sniffled.

  I had no choice but to leave. The tip would have to be enough. I felt like a blushing seventeen-year-old virgin instead of a grown man. What happened to my confidence? When did I lose my Man Card, and where could I get it back?

  I pulled out of the empty lot and hurried back to the office. I’d done little more than park the BMW when it all suddenly came rushing back. The night, the cherub dreams, the boys…

  Blakely… The bratty one’s name was Blakely. But the sweet one?

  “Oh, fuck,” I said, freezing in the BMW. “It was Kyle.”

  Chapter 3

  Kyle

  * * *

  Oh, my God. It was him.

  I wiped my eyes as the realization hit me. I hadn’t even seen him when he came in, and I certainly hadn’t thought that the man ordering the large pepperoni — he’d said “Mark” on the phone — would be the same goddamn Mark whose life I almost ruined when I was fourteen years old.

  I took a sharp breath and tried to stop more tears from flowing. But there was no denying it now… The second I saw the $100 in the tip jar, I knew it was him.

  Mark fucking Godin. The same Mark Godin who’d been a real estate agent to Minnesota royalty before Blakely and I wrecked his marriage and life. And holy shit, did that make me feel guiltier than hell.

  Before we "came onto” him, Mark Godin had been one of the most successful real estate agents in the entire Twin Cities. I knew it because he had billboards all over the Metro area and always advertised on TV. His firm competed with top players like Berkshire Hathaway, Edina Realty, and even Keller Williams, the largest firm in the country. But after that night, nothing had been the same…. His husband left him at once. And the business? It nosedived into the ground. At least that’s what Ms. Molly said, the woman who looked after us at Safe Boys.

  And after I’d heard the rumors, I tried really hard to change my ways and force myself to stop loving grown men. Because Ms. Molly had explained to me just how bad it was. She let us know that it wasn’t just highly unethical but against the law, and that we wou
ld all get in trouble if anyone found out or if I ever did it again. “Kyle,” she explained, “what you did to Mr. Godin was wrong. I know the man well and he would never — listen, boy — try this, not with a placement. You need to apologize and promise me never to do this again.”

  And so I promised to Ms. Molly that I would never, ever in my entire life try to seduce a grown man again.

  And… Well, shit. I didn’t. I forced myself to only stare at the boys in my classes and ignore the beautiful, fully grown teachers.

  Blakely on the other hand hadn’t been able to stop. He’d gone on to be kicked out of five more foster homes throughout his teens. But it was the reason I gave up on daddies and focused on boys my age. I’d promised Ms. Molly that my little bullshit attempt to seduce Mark was the last time I tried a stunt so stupid again.

  And it had been.

  For the most part.

  I mean, okay… I’d considered other things, but I’d never allowed myself to follow through. Like with my second host family, the one that was kind enough to take me in after I’d fucked things up with Mark and Bruce… I was horribly attracted to the most beautiful young, thirty-something-year-old uncle living in the basement bedroom, who I always saw wandering around the house, shirtless and sometimes even without pants on… He’d given me the eye more than once. But I never let myself go through with it, even if I spend many lonely nights in my room pretending he’d jumped me in the hall. I’d stayed on the straight and narrow and minded my own business, just like I taught the other boys at Safe Boys to do. I led by example. And I was a good leader, not a seducer of men.

  But seeing Mark… Well, that sure as hell opened the floodgates, didn’t it? I mean, the man was gorgeous. He was like a living version of the Apollo Belvedere, the epitome of male beauty that currently resided in the Vatican Museum, a photo of which I suddenly remembered Mark had in his house, which was probably the reason I made the connection in the first place. I hadn’t seen Mark in over five years but he still looked like the Romanesque warrior I remembered from that afternoon I saw him walking out of the shower in nothing more than a seafoam-pink towel, the soft fabric hugging his muscular curves like a lover…

  God, how I wanted to throw off my Nino’s uniform and run to him, just run, and bury myself in Mark’s thick arms. Even though he hated me, I bet he could hug me and protect me in his arms forever. Maybe he would even be okay with me wearing diapers and sucking on pacifiers. He might even buy me a toy…

  But what I really wanted to know was if Mark was into kinky shit… Blakely had told me some of the stuff he and Emerson Lane had gotten up to, and I couldn’t lie, it definitely turned me on. Like when Emerson pinned him to the crib and came in his diaper, or when Emerson fucked him on top of the diaper with his hands wrapped tight around Blakely’s neck. I mean, I didn’t know if I’d actually ever have the balls to do that, but… Jesus, it was kind of hot just thinking about it. I’d never heard of something so naughty in my life.

  Except the last thing I needed to think about was sex with Mark. I’d just gotten fired, for God’s sake. I wouldn’t have money coming in to pay bills or support Ma for months. And my heart fucking broke for Nino, because I knew he was only trying to keep costs down and save his struggling pizzeria. Still, it still put me in a horrible position. Thank God I was starting my real estate classes soon. I would soon have a full-fledged career, not just a job that I could get fired from in a moment’s notice.

  Suddenly, Nino appeared behind the counter and snapped me out of my daze. He rested his arm against the stainless steal and smiled weakly at me. “I’m so sorry, boy. You’re one of the best employees I’ve ever had… I’d love to keep you on, but it’s just not possible right now.”

  “It’s okay, Nino. I understand.”

  Nino bit his lip. “If you want, you can take the rest of the afternoon off, boy. I’m afraid we don’t have any customers for you to serve.”

  I took a deep breath. “Are you sure?” The truth was I had nowhere to go. I wasn’t allowed back home for at least another three hours which was when my shift ended. Ma rested throughout the entire afternoon and so I couldn’t exactly come home early and disrupt her sleep.

  “Yes, boy. I’ll tidy up and close early.” Nino rubbed his eyes. “Please go, boy. It’s the only gift I can give.”

  My heart broke. “Oh, Nino,” I cried, rushing to his side. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his chest. He was soft, fragile, and looked like he was on the verge of cracking in two. I quickly let go of his body and looked him in the eye. “Thank you for your gift. I appreciate it so much, Nino.”

  “Thank you, boy.” Nino smiled weakly and nodded at me.

  I fought back a fresh round of tears as I untied my apron and handed it to him. Nino ran his fingers over the fabric and closed his eyes. I gave my former boss one last hug and then departed the building forever. My mind was racing. I couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t see Nino’s cheery face ever again.

  I walked to the bicycle rack and unlocked my ten-speed. “It’s okay, Kyle. His business is just going through a rough patch. But the pizzeria has been around forever. He’ll get through it, he always does.”

  I climbed onto the bicycle and took a deep breath. In my head, I mapped out a mental route to the library. If I couldn’t return home for another few hours, at least I could spend the afternoon buried in a book.

  But before I had the chance to take off, my mind suddenly shot back to Mark. His beautiful face, his knowing eyes… Why the hell had he randomly showed up at Nino’s? Gorgeous rich men like Mark fucking Godin didn’t just pop into struggling pizzerias and order pepperoni ‘za. They had assistants pick it up for them or some shit.

  But I couldn’t shake the vision of Mark from my mind… I wanted him to fill me, kiss every inch of my flesh, even pin me to the counter at Nino’s while I had my uniform on and slide his finger up my hole. He could kiss me while he did it, then put a pacifier in my mouth while he got on his knees and blew me. “Daddy likes you so much, little one,” he might whisper, spreading my thighs.

  “N-No, Daddy,” I’d cry, “what are you doing? T-This is supposed to be my working place, Daddy. You can’t do that here.”

  But Mark would only moan and pull down my pants. He’d flip my legs up and pin me to the counter. “Sweet boy, open your boy hole… Daddy needs to do this right now or — or—”

  And then Mark would fill me, he’d snap himself into my body and fuck me into the wall. “Oh, Daddy,” I’d cry, “f-fuck me, Daddy… Fuck my boy ass and make me yours.”

  “Yes, sweet boy. Daddy’s going to fill your tight hole and make you come.”

  And when we finished fucking, maybe Mark would even bring me to his house and let me be his baby boy. Like, his actual “little.” He’d dress me in rocketship pajamas and make me a warm bottle, before pulling out a great, big storybook and lulling me to sleep on his lap.

  Gah.

  Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine.

  “Stop, Kyle,” I whispered, adjusting the seat and mounting my bicycle. The chipped paint glistened in the hot sun. “Mark doesn’t even know you. He probably didn’t even recognize you. He only gave you a big tip because he saw you were crying. That’s all.”

  I took a deep breath and forced the visions of Mark from my mind. I pulled out of the parking lot and started the twenty-minute ride to the library. But I’d only gotten to the Wells Fargo on Hennepin when my chain suddenly hitched and sent me flying.

  Chapter 4

  Mark

  * * *

  After Rachel and I finished the pizza I cleared my desk and made the dreaded trip to Wells Fargo. As of now I’d been standing in line at the teller for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for the smart ass in front of me to hurry up and deposit his cash. I’d never seen someone argue with a clerk over $50 before. But the real reason I wanted him to hurry was because I wanted to rush out of the fucking bank and go straight back to Kyle…

  Becau
se Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe it was actually him. I hadn’t seen the boy in 5 years and yet I recognized him at once. His beautiful eyes, smooth pale skin, red lips… Fuck, even his forearms looked stunning, if forearms could in fact be “stunning” at all. They were completely hairless and had two beautiful freckles in the exact same place on each arm.

  I took a deep breath and forced the vision of the boy from my mind. It would do no good to think about him, because I would never see him again. I had no intention of going back to Nino’s… Ever.

  The clerk called me forward. “Sir?”

  I snapped out of my daze. I approached the window to deposit my checks.

  “$16,301?” the clerk said, shuffling the checks. I nodded and smiled weakly, embarrassed about our meager revenue last quarter. Though $16,301 might be a knockout quarter for a newer firm, it compared little to the six-figure quarters I was used to when business was strong. It’s just that the last month had been slow as fuck, and it was only going to get slower as fall and winter approached. In Minnesota, the “off-season” was notoriously difficult for selling homes. The time to sell was spring and my firm hadn’t been able to capitalize on that this year. Not without me at the helm, leading the outfit to victory.

  What I really needed to do was ramp up advertising. Rachel had gone over quite a few different proposals with me just last week. “Mark,” she’d said, “why not an ad where you show a luxury home in a sports jersey? You know how much Minnesotans love the Vikings. You could attract an entire new market. The sports-home selling market is more or less untapped.”