I hesitate, legs feeling like jelly. But Olivier’s eyes don’t leave mine, and there’s a command there I can’t ignore.
Okay. Okay, I can do this.
I slide onto the stool, hands wrapped around my beer, trying to ignore the fact that the entire crew is watching like this is the best entertainment they’ve had all week.
Olivier leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. “Start talking, boy…”
And just like that, I’m in way over my head.
But God help me. I don’t want to be anywhere else right now…
Chapter 4
Olivier
The Chainsaw’s air is thick with beer, sweat, and the kind of easy camaraderie that only comes from men who swing hammers and shift heavy metal for a living.
And I Goddamn love it.
I’ve been sitting across from Danny for the better part of an hour, and every minute has been a delicious form of torture. He knows who’s in charge and hates it and loves it in equal measure.
Danny’s massive—six-five, maybe six-six, with shoulders that could block out the sun—and yet he fidgets like a schoolboy when I lean in and ask him direct questions.
His cheeks go pink every time I hold his gaze a second too long.
His voice drops to something soft and uncertain when he answers.
And when I deliberately lower my own voice, letting a hint of command slip in, his eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bobs like he’s swallowing down something far more dangerous than beer.
Little.
He’s a Little. I’d bet my Michelin star on it.
The boy is practically radiating Little vibes. The shy glances, the way he grips his glass like it’s a juice box, the nervous little laugh when the crew teases him. And God, the way he blushed when I called him “boy” earlier. My cock twitched so hard I had to shift on the stool.
The crew’s getting restless now, pitchers running dry, Mikey and Taylor already arguing over who’s buying the next round somewhere else. Xander claps his hands together like a coach calling an end to practice.
“Alright, boys. One more spot before we call it a night,” Xander says. “There’s a place a few blocks down. O’Malley’s I think Danny said. Live band tonight. Let’s move.”
Everyone starts grabbing coats and tossing cash on the bar for tips. Danny stands, towering over the table, and I rise too. I’m not nearly as tall as any of them, but I don’t need height. I’ve got presence, and I’m not afraid to use it.
I step close to Danny—so close he has to look down to meet my eyes. The noise of the bar fades a little around us.
“You heading out with them?” I ask, voice low.
He nods, swallowing. “Y-yeah. Just one more drink, probably.”
I let my gaze linger, deliberate. “Behave yourself, Danny.”
His lips part. A soft exhale. His strong chest looks fit to burst from out of his fitted t-shirt.
I lean in another inch.
“This is my town,” I say. “Word travels fast. If I hear about any bad behavior—any at all—there will be trouble. And with trouble comes consequences.Understood?”
The flush starts at Danny’s neck and climbs fast, painting his cheeks crimson. His eyes go wide, pupils blown. He shifts his weight, and I’d bet everything I own that he’s at least semi hard right now.
“Y-yes, sir,” Danny whispers.
