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"Are you thirsty?" I grit my teeth. "Do you want anything to drink?"
I wonder if what Wesley must tell me concerns a recovered memory. If so, I want to make him as comfortable as possible. That's what the literature regarding hypnotherapy taught me.
Wesley nods. "Apple juice would be nice. Or cranberry, if you have it. I'm good with either."
I hop off the sofa and step into the kitchen. After reaching my fridge, I pull out a carton of pineapple juice.
"Is this good?" Any other day, I'd offer to head to the store to purchase the juice he desires. But the clock is ticking and I want to hear what he has to say. Pineapple is all I have because I have a thing for piña coladas. It’ll do.
"That's perfect." Wesley rubs his belly as he looks at the pineapple juice in my hand.
I pour the liquid into a glass and take it to Wesley. "Here you go." I pat his back and motion for him to drink it. "Take small sips. Don't upset your tummy."
Wesley shoots me a sheepish look. "You’re so protective of me."
With a groan, I remove my hand from his back. "If it's too much, tell me." I keep my voice fierce to let him know how serious I am. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
An alarmed expression leaps onto his face. "Not at all." He scoots closer to me. "If anything, I like it."
I massage his back. "May I keep my hand on your back?" My voice is gruff, even low. "I’ll massage you, if you enjoy that. If not, that's okay."
Wesley places his hand on my thigh. "At the warehouse, no one ever looked out for me like this. Ollie tried, but he couldn't handle all my problems. I like when you wrap your arms around me and act like my protector. It makes me feel appreciated. Like you care."
I let out a breath as I tug Wesley close to me. Damn, I should take my foot off the gas, because this is a mistake in every way. I’m only looking after Wesley for the next few weeks, then returning him to his family. That's the agreement I reached with my brothers.
But Christ, I'd be lying if I said Wesley didn't speak to the Daddy in me. This poor, sweet angel has spent so long fighting on his own, and he needs a strong man to take over that role for him. I'd love to be that man in his life.
"I've got you, sweet boy." Massaging his lower back, I nestle my nose in his hair. "Finish your juice. It'll help with what you have to say."
Wesley and I snuggle on the sofa as he drinks. When he's done, he sets his glass on the coffee table and turns to me.
"I remembered something at Little Land." His bright blue eyes lock on mine.
"That's often the way recovered memories work. It's called involuntary memory. Did one of your friends say something that triggered it?"
"Yes." Wesley nods. "Rusty made a comment about the size of my dick when we stripped off to enter the hot tub. He said it was big."
I rub the pad of my thumb along Wesley's backside. "Do you have a big dick, boy?"
Wesley nods. "I had the biggest in the warehouse. Actually, the biggest of any man I'd ever seen."
"I'm listening, boy. Tell me what you remembered."
"My dick was so big… it’s the reason my captors designated me as a top. They wouldn’t let me bottom because I was more valuable putting my dick to use. This protected me in a way. Many boys would have throbbing assholes and scream when our captors sent them to the hospital room for punishments. They cried and said their bodies hurt. The worst I needed to do was wear a cock ring so I could maintain an erection while servicing my clients."
"That's terrible." I grit my teeth and try not to let rage consume me. "Your captors are evil, evil men. I'm so sorry you went through that."
"I recovered a memory about one of my captors. It was the only time I ever saw his face."
Wesley explains that his captor removed his ski mask and blew him in his cage. His captor wasn't supposed to do this and he'd have gotten in trouble if anyone found out.
My jaw drops to the floor. "You're joking."
Wesley shakes his head. "He risked his life to play with my dick. I got a good look at his face."
"How long ago was this?"
Wesley bites his lower lip. "I don't recall."
