“Why?” I plucked at his tie and let the silky material run through my fingers.
He shrugged. “It makes me feel good.”
Nodding, I couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t see my face, though, his eyes were too busy trying to drop right out of his head as he stared at my groin. Laughing, I hooked an arm around him and took him along the hallway. I pushed open the door to my playroom with relish. I’d set the laptop up on a white leather spanking bench, admittedly because I had an evil desire to see his reaction to it. He swallowed hard and eyed me as he went toward the low-built piece of furniture. The position would put my mini rack at his back, a piece I had never actually used much, in clear view behind Max’s shoulder, and that would be a nice touch when he was on-screen with the Doms. So much of BDSM was about the production. It had been nice to have him draped over me quivering with need, not thinking about managing a space or expectations.
My mood fell further, but I ignored it.
As I led him over and gently pressed on his shoulders—he fell so prettily to his knees in front of the laptop—I thought about calling Vane and doing some begging of my own. But he had no idea what I’d done, and it would be smarter to keep it that way. I highly doubted he would fire me, but he was happy for once in his life.
Now that I’d indulged my sick, masochistic need to see Max on his knees in my playroom, a hot ball of jealousy settled into my stomach. I scowled as I nudged him over just enough to be able to get at the keyboard and set everything up for the Zoom call. He stared at the array of paddles hung on the wall, from a cute little heart-shaped one to a wicked cane that leaned in the corner. I sat cross-legged beside Max, not able to stop myself from adjusting his knees the way I liked to see him: with his legs slightly open and on display. Seated as we were, we were level with each other, which was perfect. We would look good on-screen.
I turned to check on him, and his brow furrowed. I wanted to ask if he was okay with this, but it didn’t matter. He needed someone to help him, and I couldn’t be the man to do it. We sat with a heavy silence growing between us until 6:29 p.m. He pouted at me as I connected the call.
Grinning goofily on the other side was Tony Dibbs, with short blond hair that was creeping higher onto his forehead than the last time I’d seen him. He was still irritatingly handsome as he flashed his smile at Max. A lump formed in my throat.
“Well, hello there, boy,” he said and leaned forward. “Jeeeeesus Christ, Jean-Paul, why would you ever get rid of such a fuck-yum boy? I thought you were kidding when you texted earlier.” He winked at Max, and I hated how nicely he pinked up under Tony’s attention. That was good. I forced myself to breathe evenly.
“There are circumstances,” I drawled, aware I sounded like an asshole but not caring. “Please discuss with him. I’m not leaving the room.”
“How about another smile from you, sweetheart? Tell me what you like?”
Max glanced at me like a bear was about to eat him whole, and honestly, that wasn’t far off the mark. “Go ahead,” I murmured and took his hand to squeeze it. He didn’t let go, and I didn’t make him.
He flushed and smiled at Tony. “I’m not sure.”
I could see it, the moment Tony went from intrigued to potentially hooked. That shy tone. Those big brown eyes. That pale, flawless skin. The way he ducked his head just a bit, like he needed a firm hand to help him find his way.
I wanted to spit acid.
At seven o’clock it was time to switch over to the next contestant onWho Will Be Max’s Daddy?, and I was relieved when I had an excuse to stop Max’s adorably stumbling explanation of everything he didn’t know about BDSM—“I think I might like to be spanked, but I’m kind of scared.” Tony shot a look at me to see if Max was teasing, and I only shrugged, loathing the delight I saw in the wide smile he gave to Max. So far I didn’t think Tony was good enough, but Max’s small grin at me when I signed off that call had me ready to punch something, so maybe he’d been just fine.
“Did you like him?” I asked stiffly and switched everything over for the next Zoom call.
“He was okay,” Max said quietly. Not a no, but not a raving yes, either. Sharp, stupid happiness stabbed through me.
Shannon Dawson came on-screen, and he was much rougher in appearance than Tony. He had a strong, masculine face that tended toward somber, but when he smiled it crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him handsome as well. I’d never hated him prior to today and was surprised by how much I disliked seeing Max smile back at him.
“So this is the twink?” Shannon was blunt, as usual.
Max winced. “Hi.”
“What do you think? Is he worth the time to fuck, JP?” Shannon turned his attention to me, ignoring Max.
Max’s hand convulsed in mine, and I didn’t want to make him sit through this. He was probably just going to meet up with Tony, but it would be good for him to experience different kinds of people. Obnoxious people. The scene wasn’t all nice Daddies waiting to coddle him.
“Of course,” I answered smoothly.
Shannon glanced back at Max and licked the corners of his lips. “What are your limits, boy?” he snapped. “I’m interested in hurting you. A lot.”
Max’s eyes widened, and I leaned forward. “He’s looking for a Daddy,” I said firmly. “Not someone to torture him.”
“Let the boy answer for himself,” Shannon barked at me. I viciously poked the Power button and was happy when the screen blinked and went black.
I turned to Max, who was giving me a wide-eyed perusal. “Do you want to meet with Tony?”
“You just shut the computer off on that man.”
“He was disrespectful toward you.”
