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That doesn’t make shit easier—I’ll tell you that right now!
"Follow me." My voice is firm. Deep. Packed with emotion.
Faro’s eyes light up as he hurries into my house, his breath eager and expectant. I know what he wants—dirty boy.
You’re fucking crazy for doing this.
The first time I caught Faro spying on me, I brushed it off like it meant nothing. I wasn’t aware of how great I looked buck naked.
I’ll be brutally honest—as I’ve aged, I’ve dealt with insecurity regarding my looks. It’s not easy getting wrinkles, gray hair, and losing the muscle definition that comes with youth.
To say nothing of my metabolism—I’ve had to go pescatarian to keep off the pounds. It’s not something I enjoy, especially when I smell my neighbors cooking juicy steaks. Yes, fish is delicious, and healthy food is great for the heart, but sometimes, I wish I was young again—twenty, active, able to do and eat whatever I craved.
My stint in prison didn’t help things. It only reminded me of my own mortality—the fact that I wouldn’t be here forever. There are so many things I wanted to do with my life, so many goals I didn’t reach. At one point, I wanted to be an artist—sit and watch the sunset over the Mediterranean. Paint it. Then, I discovered the lure of easy money and quickly became a billionaire.
The main reason I’ve been avoiding my nosy next-door neighbor is because he reminds me of who I used to be. Happy-go-lucky. Unwilling to compromise who I was. Idealistic. Horny—oh-so-fucking horny.Watching him bring me treats was like entering a time machine and gazing at my former self.
Now—now—I’m acting on my desires. It’s a damn problem. I swore I wouldn't, and I’m breaking that promise.
Faro is a little horndog—don’t feel guilty about playing with him today. He deserves to be roughed around a bit—to learn he can’t throw himself at grumpy men.
Faro grips the back of a chair in my dining room. "Unbelievable."
I tick my head up. "What?"
"The interior of your house," he breathes, his curious eyes darting around. "I’ve seen this space through the window a few times—I mean, when I bring you treats. I’m not stalking you or anything. Up close, your taste is even more impressive."
I palm my forehead. "Zip it."
"It’s so…mature." Faro turns his gaze on me. "You clearly know what you’re doing—it’s taken a lifetime to hone this skill. It’s so different from my Nonna and Nonno’s house it’s insane. I feel like I’m in the presence of a genius. One who’s seen the world—traveled amongst different cultures. My family only leaves Italy to track down their enemies—you’ve obviously been to Indonesia and Japan judging by these wall tapestries.Amazing."
I don't want to let his words sway me—yet at this moment, an invisible pump of air swells my heart. Is Faro… serious?
Don’t fall for his tricks. This is the type of boy to lead you around on a leash if you let him—like the last one. He’ll break your heart and leave you worse off than before.
I take a menacing step forward. "Pants off. Or leave."
Faro’s cheeks flush pink. "Ah, so now you’re interested. All it took was a little compliment."
My hands go to my hips. "I won’t ask you again, little tease."
"It’s Little with a capital L," Faro whispers, bringing his hands to his waist. Like a stripper, he unbuttons himself, then tugs his shorts and briefs to his feet. "Because guess what? I want you to be my Daddy."
He’s stark naked now.
With a groan, I remove my clothes, then march toward him and tick his jaw up.
"On your knees, boy." My voice doesn’t waver—because I know Faro is trying to drive me nuts. No doubt about it. I must put him in his place.
He’s that unique type of youth that gets off on corrupting older gentlemen. A polite man who resists temptation, stays in his lane, and doesn’t let the siren’s call of desire tempt him.
Faro’s probably the type to enjoy blackmailing his lover, too. That’s what young men like him do—they relish in their power, their ability to make another claw back their vows of self-imposed chastity.
Faro marches toward me, his shaft bouncing. "Yes, Daddy."
Dropping to his knees, he brings his lips toward my dick—then swirls his tongue around the tip.
I groan, my head jolting back, my muscles tensing. Christ—why does this feel so good? I’m the one who should be taking control. Forcing him on his back. Pile-driving my hard cock into his wet mouth.
