AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bryce slides my earplug back in, then places his hand on the small of my back to lead me into the rally.
I shake my head because this isn’t right at all, no sir.
I tap Bryce’s side, willing him to figure out what I truly want.
He smiles and bends down, allowing me to swing my legs over his shoulders.
I laugh as my fingers find purchase in his hair, gripping it tight as if I’m steering him.
"I'm the tallest boy at the rally!"
The working guys walk all around us protecting us from judgmental strangers. There are some mean-looking motherfuckers here (I can swear if it’s true), covered in tattoos. With Bryce letting me ride him, and the working guys acting as our bodyguards, nothing anyone can do can hurt us.
We step into the rally right before it starts.
Bryce pauses as he glances to the right. "Herrrrrrrrm."
I can barely hear him because of my earplugs, but I still sense his hesitation. "Is something wrong?"
I think I’m speaking quietly.
The dozens of heads that turn in my direction tell me otherwise.
Bryce pats my foot. "Keep your voice down, bud. Okay, Daddy’s hungry, and he wants a hot dog, hamburger, cheese fries, and popcorn, and peanuts."
We’re like a giant amoeba that seeps through the hallway. The working guys spread out around us, bumping into smaller amoebas of two or three people to push them away, keeping us safe.
"Tell Daddy what snack you want," Bryce says when we reach the counter.
"What?" I scream.
"SNACK. TELL DADDY."
"Popcorn." I beam, knowing that I’m now using my indoor voice. I had to use my outdoor voice to learn what my indoor voice was.
The working guys all order things, and Bryce orders the entire restaurant for himself. That’s what you need when you’re as tall as he.
Bryce pays for everything with his credit card. It sounds like metal when he drops it on the counter, and my dick hardens. Only the most exclusive cards are made of metal. Or so I’ve heard. My mother pays my bill, so I still have the starter one with the one-hundred-dollar limit she got me after I turned eighteen.
When our food is ready, the working guys carry all of it. Even Bryce’s. I’m in shock and also totally jealous. Bryce has servants in a way, except he’s not ordering any of them around. He paid for their treats, and now they’re thanking him in the way that they can. It’s important to show gratitude to people who do you favors in this life even if you think that the way you’ll repay them is too small. The thought is what counts more than the money.
Bryce even bought the one working guy who wanted more Mountain Dew a new Mountain Dew. This working guy sips it happily, skipping down the hallway, which makes me happy. I start to skip until I remember that I’m on Bryce’s shoulders and that if I skipped, I’d fall off.
We settle into our seats. "Perfect," Bryce says, plopping down.
He devours his burgers first. One, two, three. They vanish without a trace, and he licks his fingers clean. He pops an antacid before starting on his hot dogs, which have hot chili and cheese. He gobbles down two, then spreads his legs. He eats his peanuts next. The shells scatter all over the floor, creating a small mountain of shells.
It’s while I’m watching Bryce eat that I realize that because I’m still on his shoulders, I’m blocking at least ten rows of seats.
"Hey," someone snaps behind me in a rude voice. "Get off his fucking shoulders."
"Yeah, asshole," another grumpy asshole yells. "Your kid doesn’t need to be blocking our view. And what’s with his fucking hardhat? This is a monster truck rally, not a construction site."
Bryce whips around. "He’s not my kid. He’s my boy."
Bryce pulls me down and crushes his lips to mine. I moan, losing myself in his mouth, loving how he claims me. I taste the burgers, chili dogs, and peanuts on his breath, and for some reason, this makes me feel even more like a working guy.
"Want some Mountain Dew with that kiss, Daddy?" I tease.
