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One time—one goddamn time—I’d told him I was an exclusive top, and the kid throws it back at me like this? It was a good thing he was family and I loved him, because he really was a little shit.
A little shit who was apparently on a crusade to poke his nose into my business tonight.
“We’re here to talk about your future,” I reminded him. “And to celebrate what you’ve accomplished.”
“Yeah, but you know what? Everything I’ve accomplished has been with a hell of a lot of unconditional support from you, grumpy pants. You’ve done so much for me. I just want to see you live a little, too, you know? I want to talk about your future.”
“That’s… sweet,” I admitted, lightening up a little. “But I don’t need your help.”
He snorted. “You keep going after the wrong guys, and you’ve been single for way too long. I think you do.”
It was sweet of him, but good intentions or not, the kid just didn’t know when to quit.
“We’re done discussing my sex life,” I said with finality.
“You’re right,” Jackie said much too cheerfully. “Talk is totally overrated. So it’s a good thing you’ve got me around to help you get some action, isn’t it?”
Before I could even try to fathom a response to that—or brace myself—Jackie made a beckoning motion with his hand, calling the too-pretty busboy over to our table.
The sweet little thing immediately jumped to do my nephew’s bidding, and fuck if my cock didn’t take notice again.
There was an eagerness about the way the boy responded that went above and beyond good service. It was a quality that attracted me like a bee to honey, because the truth was that yes, I would enjoy being in charge in the bedroom, just as much as I did in the boardroom. But healthy, mature relationships weren’t about taking control, they were about give and take. About respecting your partner as an equal. About dating equals, not… not eager little things like the bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked piece of delectable eye candy who Jackie had called over to our table.
The off-limits piece of eye candy. Jesus, the busboy was even prettier up close than I’d realized, but he also looked even younger and more innocent than when I’d mentally labeled him “jailbait.”
“Did you… did you need something, sirs?” the busboy asked, his breathless, eager-to-please tone as he turned those big eyes on me before looking back at Jackie forcing me to stifle a groan, thankful as all hell for the concealing tablecloth.
The boy’s palpable eagerness had a sweet, vulnerable quality to it that practically begged to be given some direction; to be petted, praised, and guided with a firm hand. He may have been doing his job, but it was clear as day that what he wanted most was to please someone.
To please me, my cock insisted, responding with extreme interest.
“We need to know how old you are, sweetness,” Jackie told the boy, toying with his empty wine glass as he lounged back in his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Acting as if the question was actually reasonable.
The pretty little thing blinked, then—like the good boy I could tell he so desperately wanted to be—he answered. “Um, I’m eighteen?”
His voice lilted up at the end, betraying his confusion about why my nephew was grilling him on personal details. He stayed where he was, though, clearly willing to wait until he understood what we needed from him.
“Eighteen,” I repeated to Jackie, not letting my eyes stray back to the temptation standing next to us. Not technically jailbait, but still too close for comfort. I was in my mid-forties, for God’s sake. “Are we done here?”
Jackie ignored me.
“And when did you turn eighteen, honey?” he asked the kid, as if that was relevant. Adding a few more months to his age wasn’t going to change anything. I could never let myself pursue a boy like this one, no matter how many times Jackie’s taunts replayed in my head.
Imagine how good it would be if—
I clenched my fist, cutting that thought off before I let it go any further. No, I was not going to imagine it, no matter what my cock had to say about the matter… at least, not until later. In private.
“Um, last year?” Breathless-and-Eager answered, all wide-eyed with curiosity.
“So your birthday is…” Jackie said, leading the boy to give us more information.
“Next week.” He nibbled on his lip for a moment. “Can I ask why you want to know?”
Jackie’s grin was positively wicked as he tilted his head in my direction. “Because I think my Uncle Callum would love to give you a birthday present.”
“Jesus, Jackie,” I exploded, bolting to my feet. “Enough.”
Jackie laughed, completely unrepentant, but the pretty little busboy flinched at my outburst, immediately making me feel like the world’s biggest ass and awakening protective instincts that I hadn’t even known I had. Before I could apologize—or rip Jackie a new asshole for harassing the sweet boy—the boy’s gaze slid down my body and came to rest on the unmistakable outline of my erection.
