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Harrison had to hand it to Chris – he was one charismatic and compelling guy. Perhaps this was the reason that Chris was such a successful agent, but it always seemed like he knew exactly what to say in order to get his own way. Harrison wasn’t complaining, after all it had been Chris who had helped put his novels into the world and sell so many copies across the globe.
Still, Harrison really wasn’t sure that he wanted to go to a club.
It will be packed.
Noisy. Sweaty. Silly boys acting out.
But Chris wants to go…
‘Screw it, I’m in. Let’s go,’ Harrison said, the look of delight on Chris’s face making it all worth it. ‘But don’t you go running off and leaving me after fifteen minutes. I know most of the guys there will have their boys with them, so I can’t rely on them for company. I need you as my one source of good conversation, okay?’
Chris nodded, but it was clear that his mind was already in the club.
It was time to drink up, hop into the Uber and haul ass over to The Cuddle Corner…
‘A beer please. Screw it, make it two,’ Harrison said, his gravelly voice in full-on grouch mode.
The Cuddle Corner was as busy as expected. And as loud as Harrison had known it would be. With the most poppy dance music blaring at an almost unbearable level, Harrison wanted nothing more than to be back at home with a roaring fire and a black and white detective movie on his wall mounted television.
Not only was Harrison predictably unimpressed with the club, but as he had predicted Chris had already vanished into the night. The last Harrison had seen of Chris was when an admittedly very cute boy in electric-blue hotpants approached him with a shiny red paddle.
Good for Chris.
I hope he tans that boy’s ass good and proper…
Harrison took his drinks from the bartender and immediately made his way out of the main club room and toward the outside area. Harrison figured he would give Chris the time it took him to finish the two beers before he headed back to his hotel room.
Although knowing Chris like he did, Harrison was betting that he wouldn’t see Chris again for the rest of the night. Still, if that meant that Harrison could head home relatively early then he wasn’t going to complain too much.
As Harrison took a seat on the large bench, he found himself thinking about work. But not his novel. Instead, Harrison was thinking about the lectures he was scheduled to give that next week at university.
Teaching was something that Harrison had never imagined he would have enjoyed anywhere near as much as he did. And to be doing it back on his old stomping ground of Princeford University was an added bonus.
Princeford U was one of the most prestigious schools in the country and had a truly impressive reputation internationally. Harrison had worked his ass off to get in there as a student, and to return as a celebrated author and teach there was something that made him feel proud even on his lowest days where he felt like he couldn’t get a single word out onto his computer screen.
There was something very satisfying about passing on his love for literature onto his students. Some of the students had a lot of talent when it came to their own writing too, and Harrison enjoyed the process of guiding them, helping them to avoid the pitfalls that many young writers fell into.
Maybe it’s the Daddy in me.
Well, if I can’t have a boy at least I have my students…
But as satisfying as it was to offer his help and life experience to students, it wasn’t the same as having a Little to call his own. Harrison knew that, and it was a feeling that just wouldn’t go away. No matter how deep Harrison tried to bury his feelings on the subject, he knew that somewhere inside him there was a desire to administer discipline in a way that only a Daddy could.
Harrison quickly finished off the first beer. It was a nice German lager that he’d had many a time before. But as he was about to sink the second beer, Harrison’s eyes fell upon something, or rather someone, very new indeed…
Who the hell is that?
He’s cute as hell, but he looks sad.
That’s a boy in need of some wise words…
Harrison got up from the bench and walked across the outdoor area toward the boy. The closer Harrison got, the cuter the boy became. He was young and had the kind of perfect complexion and razor-sharp cheekbones that a catwalk model would die for. But more than that, the boy had a body that clearly knew its way around a gym. He, whoever he was, may have been a classically petite Little, but there was definitely a lot of fitness in him too.
‘You okay, boy?’ Harrison said, towering over the downcast Little. ‘You look like you could do with some cheering up?’
‘I feel crappy,’ the boy said.
‘And do you have a name?’ Harrison said, a firm tone in his voice. ‘I’m Harrison.’
