"Yeah... thanks," I mumble, eyes already drifting shut. "Night, night. Love you guys!"
They laugh softly—warm, not mocking—and the light clicks off.
The door shuts with a quiet snick, and I'm out like a light, Lexi clutched tight, dreams swirling with stern chefs and spinning bars.
“Gaaah, what the hell?”
The alarm blares like a jackhammer in my skull, yanking me from sleep. I groan, slapping at my phone on the nightstand until it shuts up. My head throbs—hello, hangover—and my mouth tastes like old socks.
What time is it? Seven AM.
Site starts at eight, but breakfast is downstairs in the hotel lobby at seven-fifteen. Xander's big on team meals, says it builds crew spirit.
I shift under the covers, and something pokes uncomfortably. I lift the sheet and peek down—yep, just my briefs, tented with a massive morning boner.
Great. My body's wide awake even if my brain's still foggy!
And just like that, my mind flashes to Olivier. Those dark eyes pinning me at the bar, his voice low and commanding:Behave yourself, Danny.
The way he promised a lunch box if I was good—sandwiches, cookies, juice. Like a reward for a Little. Heat pools in my gut, my cock throbbing at the memory.
Damn, he was so intense, soDaddy.
Smaller than me, but he ruled that space like a lion.
Olivier owned me with just a look.
I reach down, palming myself through the fabric. It's been forever since I hooked up with anyone, and last night's tension has me wound tight.
Just a quick one, to take the edge off...
I imagine Olivier's hands instead of mine—firm, callused from kitchen work—stroking slow, teasing. "Good boy," he'd murmur, and I'd melt. My breath hitches as I slide my hand under the waistband, gripping hot skin. Yeah, this'll be quick?—
A sharp knock at the door jolts me upright. I yank my hand out, heart pounding.
"Who is it?"
"It’s Xander. Rise and shine, Danny. Breakfast in ten. You need to move your butt if you're gonna make it." His voice is cheerful, but boss-like too.
"No problem!" I call back, voice cracking a little. "Be right down!"
I flop back against the pillow as his footsteps fade.
Shit.
Close call. I mean the last thing anyone wants is for their boss catching them masturbating. I can only hope that my voice wasn’t a dead giveaway.
But as the adrenaline fades, last night crashes back in fragments: the bars, the beers, Taylor and Mikey helping me... and oh God.Lexi.
I asked for my stuffie.
Out loud.
Tothem.
My face burns, hangover forgotten in the wave of cringe. They'll know for sure now. The whole crew probably does—the rumors about Construction Boys being Littles were true, but I wantedto ease into it. Share on my terms, when I was ready. Not drunkenly blurt it out like some oversharing idiot.
What if they think I'm too needy? Too soft for the site?
