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Daddy’s Forbidden Room
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“Oh, Kevin, no… you don’t need a boyfriend. What you need is a Daddy.”
Kevin knows his worth. He’s a cute twink who, despite his lack of experience, has a lot to offer. So when life deals him lemons, all he needs is sugar to make lemonade.
A Sugar Daddy that is.
Kevin is ready to throw caution to the wind when he meets a mysterious man who offers him the opportunity of a lifetime. A million dollars in exchange for becoming the man’s boy toy and staying with him for one year. Sandro is older, devastatingly handsome, and ready to show Kevin a world of sensual pleasures while lavishing him with luxury.
But Kevin’s new Daddy also has strict rules.
Never leave the island.
And never enter the forbidden room behind the white door.
What starts as a mutually beneficial arrangement quickly turns into a whirlwind of passion. Secrets become too tempting to resist, and whatever hides behind the white door could be the undoing of all that Kevin loves about his Daddy.
“What’s this room?”
WARNING: This story contains scenes of violence, and morally ambiguous characters.
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Kevin flopped to Brandon’s soft white leather sofa and gave an exhale filled with all the despair in the world. “My life is basically over.”
Brandon just laughed, as if this was all a joke to him. “Wow, always the drama queen.”
Easy for him to say in his Kansas City penthouse apartment with views to die for, sunshine bathing him every morning in a king-size bed, a vase full of fresh orchids on the table, and his own espresso machine. Brandon didn’t even need to clean his Persian cat’s litter box, because he had a maid come in every day to tidy up.
“This is serious, okay? I’ve been considerate, I waited with coming out to my parents until I was done with high school, and now they’re like ‘blah blah, we’re not gonna fund your dirty lifestyle’. They said they won’t even pay for my college, and they know how bad I want to go to art school. It’s just so unfair!” Kevin waved his arms in frustration so abruptly he almost hit Brandon’s cat, Cronut.
Brandon pursed his lips and picked up his white Persian as if Kevin wasn’t responsible enough to be trusted around an animal. As if Brandon was all that with his coiffed ice-blond hair, the Gucci shoes and jeans that hugged his ass as if they were his family on Thanksgiving. He wasn’t even much older—twenty three to Kevin’s eighteen—but he acted as if he had all the answers, as if his money had grown in the flowerpots of the balcony. Kevin had an idea where the cash for all the branded shit came from, and it wasn’t from toiling as a bricklayer.
They’d met two years ago at a large New Year’s Eve party where Kevin’s parents had dragged him to show off their little angel. Kevin had seen Brandon discreetly squeezing a man’s hand and, after infusing himself with champagne, Kevin had blurted out to him that he was ‘gay too’. In retrospect—cringe, but it did end up with them talking some more, and even sharing a kiss.
Kevin’s first kiss ever.
It didn’t take them long to work out that they weren’t meant to be, in any way, shape or form, but Brandon had become a friend, a confidante, and supported Kevin through the never-ending dry patch of virginity. Unlike Kevin, Brandon always had a new story of romance and sexy times up his D&G sleeve with golden cuffs, and he wouldn’t let Kevin forget about it.
Brandon petted his kitty with a deep sigh, and the tiniest wrinkle marred his forehead. Kevin wished there was something in Brandon that he could pick on, but no, Brandon was perfect, and his Instagram follower count made that fact abundantly clear. From the tips of his Alexander McQueen shoes to the lilac color of his eyes, everything about him screamed refinement. Though no matter how many times Brandon swore his eye color was natural, Kevin knew it was not.
“Kev, baby boy. You’re eighteen. You can do whatever you want.”
Kevin folded his arms on his chest with a pout, but flinched when he heard the camera in Brandon’s phone clicking. He looked up at the blingalicious phone case pointed at him. “Seriously? You better not put that online!”
Brandon clicked his tongue. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, you might not have Mommy and Daddy’s support, but you’ve got… other assets.” He snorted and winked at Kevin, only infuriating him further.
“Like what? Being a fucking virgin? Not being able to cook? This hole in my jeans?” Kevin put his finger though the rip on his knee.
Brandon sat opposite him on a large three-seater and laughed. “For starters, you’re funny. You’re cute. You’re not jailbait anymore, and for the record, I know someone who might actually consider your virginity attractive.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. Are you saying my only prospect is finding myself a rich”—air quotes—“boyfriend?”
Brandon shook his head. “Oh, Kev, no… you don’t need a boyfriend. What you need is a Daddy.”
The word caught Kevin off-guard, and he tilted his head, offering Brandon his undivided attention. “What do you mean? Like a Sugar Daddy?”
Brandon leaned forward and put his cat on the floor. “Kind of. Let’s look at your options here. Flipping burgers, stacking shelves, go-go dancing… maybe. That’s never gonna get you where you want to be. Where you deserve to be. Wouldn’t you rather meet a hot older guy, use all that loveliness Mother Nature gave you and get there ASAP? I mean…” Brandon whistled. “When’s the last time you checked yourself out in the mirror. Big green eyes—check. Cutie-pie blond hair—check. Tight little ass—check.”
Kevin laughed and grabbed one of Brandon’s expensive pillows to throw at him. “Don’t say that!”
Brandon sniggered. “It’s true, though! You could earn some serious cash if you’re brave enough.”
Kevin covered his flushing face and couldn’t stop giggling at the illicit nature of Brandon’s proposition. “That’s so shady!”