Page 180 of Daddy's Pride
In a small corner, a dance floor had been set up, packed with barely clad bodies pressed tightly together. One collared sub had been pushed against the wall by his Dom, and everyone who wanted to could have a go at his ass.
In another corner, Brody’s younger roommate, Elya, was kneeling for his Dom-of-the-night, a man Brody knew well and who would treat the kid right. As much as Brody loved being a Dom, he’d made it clear when they’d met that he wouldn’t cross any lines with Elya. The kid was cute and super eager, but they were roommates and nothing more. Elya had wholeheartedly agreed, and now he was like a little brother to Brody.
Brody sighed. As arousing as it all was, it didn’t tempt him in the least. The scene had become a repetitive dance that no longer quickened his pulse or stirred his yearning. A craving for something new, something unpredictable, gnawed at the edges of his consciousness—a hunger for a connection that transcended the physicality of the club’s offerings. He loved dominating, and he loved fucking, but something was missing.
As he contemplated the weight of his solitude, the club’s heavy door swung open, admitting a gust of cool air and a quartet of men. Brody knew three of them, all regulars of the club. But the fourth one was new, a vision of youthful confidence clad in tight red hot pants and sexy-as-fuck black thigh-high boots. Brody couldn’t take his eyes off the newcomer as he walked with an effortless grace that spoke volumes of his innate sensuality. His harness showed off his slender frame, and his makeup accentuated rather than obscured his natural beauty. His blond hair fell in a casual sweep over bright-blue eyes that sparkled with an inner fire. He was, in one word, precious, like a rare gem among pebbles.
Brody’s gaze followed the boy as he navigated through the crowd, the pulsating lights casting a hypnotic glow on his fair skin. The music throbbed like a living heartbeat, bass notes reverberating through the floor and into Brody’s bones. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt in months, maybe even longer.
The two Doms kissed their sub, then left the two boys on the dance floor, mere feet from Brody, and he kept his eyes on them. The boy’s laughter, musical and free, carried over the din as he interacted with his companion, the bond between them palpable even from a distance. His movements displayed an air of flirtation, a playful tilt to his head as he teased and bantered. Yet beneath the veneer of confidence, Brody sensed a thread of vulnerability—a fear of being too much yet not enough—that drew him in further.
He watched, entranced, as the boy danced to the beat, the sensuality of his movements arousing. The choreography between him and his friend was unspoken yet perfectly synchronized. They were close. It was etched into every gesture, every laugh they shared over the music. And as much as Brody appreciated the bond between them, he wanted the boy for himself.
“Brody, you old hound, eyeing up the fresh meat?” Jake, the bartender, teased. As a longtime acquaintance, he knew Brody’s tastes well.
“Perhaps,” Brody said with a half-smile, sipping his Coke. “There’s something about him—something different.”
“He’s pretty.”
“That, he is.”
“He’s wearing a green wristband. You better move in fast before someone else claims him.”
Brody’s heart picked up tempo as the boy navigated the throng of bodies with the ease of one who belonged yet stood apart. Brody’s intrigue deepened, his Dom instincts homing in on the subtle cues of submission the boy unconsciously projected. It was a siren call to Brody’s dominant nature, one he felt powerless to resist.
Jake wasn’t wrong that someone would snatch the boy up if Brody didn’t move quickly. Brody set down his glass with newfound resolve. He wasn’t a dancer, but he would be whatever he needed to get closer to this boy.
Compelled by a force stronger than mere attraction, Brody strode toward the dance floor, his larger frame cutting through the mass of bodies with purpose. He reached the edge just as the boy spun, his blue eyes catching the light and his gaze locking with Brody’s.
“Mind if I join you?” Brody held out his hand.
The boy’s eyes widened before he caught himself and took Brody’s hand. “Yes, Sir. I mean, not at all, Sir. I don’t mind.”
He was nervous. Somehow, that reassured Brody. He tugged the boy’s hand, inviting him to come closer, and after a quick look at his companion, he did. “What’s your name, pretty?”
“J-Josiah, Sir.”
“Josiah. It fits you. I’m Brody.”
“Hi. Sir.”
He was adorable.
“Jo.” His friend leaned in and whispered something in Josiah’s ear. Josiah nodded.
“Sir?” his friend addressed Brody. “Just wanted you to know that one of my partners is a cop and the other a federal agent.”
Brody swallowed back the trickle of alarm that always emerged when he heard words like cop and federal agent. Nine years later, the thought of someone discovering his real identity was as frightening as it had always been. Would that ever change?
But he shouldn’t overreact. Maybe it wasn’t even entirely the truth. The boy was looking out for his friend, and Brody appreciated that. “Message received. I promise I’ll take good care of him and deliver him back to you when we’re done, okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
After a last nod to Josiah, he walked off, leaving Brody with Josiah. He pulled him closer. “Seems like I have you all to myself now.”
Brody’s body instinctively moved to guide Josiah’s with gentle firmness.
“Yes, Sir.” Josiah matched Brody’s pace step for step.