Page 59 of Ruined

I slide my hand further up his thigh, the tips of my fingers brushing his cock over the covers. Only a touch, then I pull back.

“Let’s get ready.”

He bites his lip. “But…”

“Do you remember what I told you about good boys?”

“They’re patient,” he mutters.

“That’s right. Now be patient and let Daddy take you shopping, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, and I lean in to give him a soft kiss.

“Good boy.”

22. NOT ENOUGH

I shouldn’t have freaked out about the pancakes. It’s like he said—things are different now. It’s symbolic, in a way; he didn’t make them for me that day, but he made them for me now, which means he’s staying, not leaving.

I try to keep that thought in mind as we walk to the clothing store. The sun is shining, and the air is crisp and pleasantly cool. Walking down the street, we see several couples holding hands. We even see a few gay couples. I’d take Logan’s hand, but I’m unsure how he’d react. More than that, I don’t know how the people around us would react.

When that waiter assumed I was his son, Logan got uncomfortable, so I better not risk it. I want to, though.

At the store, I sift through the jeans aisle and pick out a couple of pairs. After mumbling that I want to get something comfier, too, Logan shows me a selection of linen pants. I pick the cream-colored ones and head toward the fitting rooms.

The first pair of jeans fits well enough, but when I turn to the mirror, I feel unsure.

“You okay in there?” Logan asks on the other side of the door.

“No,” I groan. “Can you come help?”

Logan clears his throat in a moment’s hesitation before the door opens, and he slips inside the tight space. Sitting on a chair in the corner, he watches me squirm in front of the mirror.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“They’re a little loose.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He grabs the fabric right where my leg meets my ass.

My cheeks heat. “Um, they’re not that comfortable anyway. Let me try these.” I grab the linen pants from the hanger, and Logan holds them for me while I drag the jeans off and kick them into a corner.

The linen fabric is soft when I pull the pants on. Alone in this tight space with him, I can’t help the heat gathering between my legs, even though we’re practically in public.

The stretchy waistband feels a lot comfier than the jeans, and I turn around to see myself. My breath hitches when Logan puts a hand on my hip.

“Let me see.” He turns me slowly all the way around, until my ass is on display for him. “Yeah, that’s better.”

I glance back at him, my already-simmering arousal surging at the equal parts thrill and embarrassment of having his attention on me like this.

“They’re a bit loose at the front,” I mumble.

“Are they?” His voice is low, as if my own arousal has affected him.

With a gulp, I turn around, and he pulls at the bunched-up fabric by my groin. My dick responds immediately to his touch, twitching in my boxer briefs. Calm down, I try to tell it, clenching my hands by my sides. He’s only checking the fit—not touching you like he wants to… Like he wants to…

“Not so loose anymore, are they?” he asks in that same low voice, his gaze focused on the part of me he’s touching—where he’s stroking his knuckles directly over the base of my cock, which by now is embarrassingly hard.