Page 16 of Sweet Shots

“Stop being jealous. I tell you all the time I’ll fuck you too.”

“And I’d take you up on it if I liked dick. Now get the fuck outta my bar.”

“It’s not even your bar!” I call after him, shoving a few twenties into the tip jar.

Charlie is looking at me funny, probably wondering why I just mentioned fucking the bartender when I’m about to take him home.

“Stepbrother,” I say as an explanation. It’s easier than explaining the foster care thing because people always have questions about that. “You ready to go?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It’s a twenty-minute drive to my house, and I always get worried whoever’s following me is going to get lost. No one ever has, but the winding roads make it very possible. I pull into my driveway, noting the lights still on in Mikah’s place. I wonder if he’s making content, and what kind of content he makes. He said he does solo stuff… How far does that actually get you? You can only jerk off in so many ways.

I tried searching his name on the BTL website, but couldn’t find him, meaning he uses a pseudonym. A lot of people do. I don’t give a shit, and my name is kind of cool, so I didn’t bother. Made everything much easier when it came to paperwork too.

Charlie pulls in behind me and follows me up the front steps.

“What do you want to drink? I have wine and beer,” I say once we’re in the house.

“Either is fine,” he says, looking around. His eyes settle on the couch in my living room, and I wonder if it looks familiar to him—if he knows who I am.

I grab two beers. “Come on. Let’s go out back.”

He follows me outside, sitting in the chair with his back to Mikah’s house. I hand him a beer, put mine on the ground beside the chair I sit in, and get the fire going. I pop my beer open when I sit and take a long swig. Mikah catches my attention when he walks by the sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard, but he doesn’t notice me. He will soon enough. I’ll make sure of it.

“So, what do you do for work?” I ask.

“I’m in college, so I don’t work much. I do part time graphic design.”

Called it. I’m so good at reading people.

“Nice,” I say. “Have you done anything I may know?”

“Probably not. Mostly mom and pop shops near school.”

“Which is?”

“Santa Clara. I’m in the area visiting family for the week. What do you do for work?” he asks.

I smile in response, trying to gauge if he already knows.

“I’m an accountant,” I say, going along with the running joke. Some people get it, some don’t. I still think it’s hilarious.

“Oh? I wouldn’t peg you as someone who sits behind a desk all day.”

My grin widens. So, he doesn’t know who I am then. This sometimes makes things easier.

“Well, that’s because I do the pegging.”

He grins, taking a swallow of beer before getting to his feet and walking over to me and dropping to his knees. He has no shame, and as much as I love a submissive man, I do love one who knows what they want. Especially when that something is my cock down their throat.

“You like numbers?” he asks, reaching for my jeans’ button.

“I like money.”

He hums a sound of approval. “Don’t we all?”

Charlie pulls my dick out, taking me right to the back of his throat. I groan, resting back and shifting down to get more comfortable. I keep my eyes on my neighbor’s window, hoping he walks by again.

---