Chapter Three

“ D ad!”

“Well?”

“I’m not going to answer that question.”

“So that’s a no, then.”

Closing his eyes slowly, Key counted to ten, then shot them open when Charles chuckled. “What?”

“Did you reach ten?”

Sighing, Key smiled. “I didn’t meet anyone worth spending time with. I did have a good night with my friends and got drunk.”

“You’re not getting any younger, but I’m not going to give you that speech.” Charles meant the grandkids speech. Once was enough. “I want you to be happy and find someone who makes you laugh.”

“I want that too, but I’m not rushing to find it, either. If it happens, it happens.” Key shrugged and sipped his coffee, watching Charles as he moved around his kitchen preparing their meal.

Yep, Saturday night had been a bust, even though Key had seen plenty of great looking men. He hadn’t felt it, if that made sense. He’d gone out with friends with the intent of having fun, getting drunk, and finding a guy to fuck around with, and when they’d arrived at a club, he’d done the fun and drunk part, but the fucking around had fizzled out.

Sure, hot guys were everywhere and several had shown their interest in him, but he’d smiled and shook his head. Even now, he was puzzled by his own behavior. He’d wanted to fuck. He’d wanted to drink, and laugh, and fuck, and here he was now with a hangover and no orgasm, sitting at Charles’ kitchen table.

Licking his lips, Key stared at the table, his fingers following a grain in the wood. Maybe it was that man’s fault. His stalker. The one he’d decided to put a little show on for and then left him hanging. Maybe he should do more than touch his nipples in front of the window. Next time he should strip and let him see the goods, and… what the hell was he doing thinking this way?

This man was someone Key didn’t know, who followed him practically every night. He watched Key in his apartment, watched him as he moved around, and Key liked it. Maybe he had a wire loose in his brain. That could explain why he had this strange urge to tease his stalker. Tease and torment.

Did he want his stalker to snap and turn up outside his apartment one day? What if he did that? What if Key got home one night and as he was entering his home, the man who followed him came in after him and… Key squirmed in his seat. Fuck, maybe there was something wrong with him.

The idea of letting the man, this stranger, touch him and do things to him had him hard. In his dad’s kitchen. Not the place to be having these strange fantasies, but his mind begged to differ. Different scenarios rushed through his mind, all dirty, all filthy.

Key bound and gagged on his bed while this mystery stalker made Key’s body his plaything. Touching and licking and biting and fucking. Or stripping Key naked by the door as soon as they entered and fucking him against it, making Key beg for more.

Damn, he really should have gotten laid last night. He needed a fuck, and he didn’t care who did what. As long as he was with another man, tasting their sweat on his tongue…

“Son.”

Key lifted his head and blinked at Charles. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted green beans as well, but your head is in the clouds.” Charles put the beef on the table in front of Key, who grimaced as his stomach rolled. He'd done it to himself and Charles had cooked, so he was going to eat even if he didn’t want to.

“Thinking about what you said.” Key shrugged. “When the right man comes along, then who knows what will happen, but I’m not settling because I’ve reached a certain age and it’s expected.”

“I met your mother when we were teenagers. I knew the moment I saw her, and she felt the same way, and that is why I find it hard to move on.” Charles gave Key a pointed look. “She’s a hard act to follow. I still miss her.”

“I miss Mom, too.” Key felt her absence every day, but looking at Charles, he knew he would find love again if he went looking for it. He didn’t want his dad to live the rest of his life alone when he deserved to be with someone. Charles was a great man, a pain in the ass husband, according to Janet, his mom, and a fantastic dad.

Key knew why Charles wanted him to find someone who made him happy. He’d had that for years with Janet until she’d passed away and he wanted the same for his son.

The table was soon filled with bowls of vegetables, enough to feed several people, and Key piled his plate. It smelled delicious, but his stomach still wasn’t quite on board, so he took his time eating. Charles tucked in and Key wasn’t even halfway through his food by the time Charles was adding more.

“Dad,” Key whined as he watched Charles add more meat. “I’ve got enough.”

“You need feeding up and there’s plenty here.”

“Why is there so much?”

“I’m going to do a couple of plates for the Jeffersons down the road. They don’t have much money after the stunt their kid pulled, so I’ll do them a plate each and at least I know they’ve eaten today.”

Their kid, Eric, had taken all their savings and run, leaving them with debts Eric had built up and nothing to pay them with. The Jeffersons were lucky, though. They had great neighbors who had been there to provide advice and help and food when needed.

“Have they found Eric?”

“No. The bastard has dropped off the radar. When I get my hands on him…” Charles shook his head, his jaw hard. “How could he do that to them after everything they’d done for him? Got him into one of the top universities with the money they saved up, bought him that stupid car he’d begged for, helped him get that job he didn’t deserve. I hope they find him and bang him up. Bastard needs to be punished and I want to be there to see it.”

“Are things still that bad for them?”

“No, things are getting better, but every cent they make, they use to pay off the debts he’s left them with. Imagine retiring and planning your life and then having to find work again. Bastard needs his neck wrung. Apologizing isn’t enough for what he’s put them through.”

And that was another reason Key loved Charles so much. His loyalty and the way he made sure his friends were taken care of. Key also knew for a fact if Charles got hold of Eric, he wouldn’t walk for a very long time and he knew many of the neighbors around here would help Charles as well. The Jeffersons were well thought of.

Key pushed his plate away and smiled ruefully at Charles. “Doggy bag?” Charles snorted and carried on eating, but nodded. Key knew Charles would send him home with a plate as well. “Mine next Sunday?”

“You learned to cook, then?”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You could burn water. Not sure how you’re still alive.”

“I’ve progressed. Water survives now.”

“How many times has the smoke alarm gone of this week?”

“Only three.” Key smiled smugly. “Three is a huge improvement.”

“Three.” Charles shook his head, then grinned. “That first week, though.”

“It was only every meal I cooked.” They both stared at each other, then chuckled. “Three is better. I don’t even burn toast now.”

“You have no idea what a disappointment it was to your mother that she couldn’t teach you to cook.”

“I do know. She told me repeatedly. Usually after she’d had to open all the windows and doors. Who knew getting food poisoning several times would help me figure out how to cook?”

“I wouldn’t say you could cook, but at least you don’t threaten anyone’s lives now when they eat your food.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“It’s only the truth.”

“I know. That’s what makes it worse. I’m never going to be a chef.”

“Something we both agree on. You need to find a man who can do the cooking, then.”

“Does one exist?” Key stared at his plate, then picked up the fork to push a piece of broccoli around.

A slap on the hand had him dropping the fork and sucking his lips in. “Behave.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“I’ll have a coffee if you’ve finished playing with your food.”

Key looked at his dad, then laughed. Charles had a huge grin on his face. “I’ll make us both one.”

Key made the drinks, then began to clear the table, leaving the food on the counter so Charles could make the plates for the Jeffersons. Loading the dishwasher took the hassle of washing and drying them away, and once the kitchen was clean, they both went into the living room to watch some reruns on the TV.

It was a nice way to spend the day, but Key knew he would have to leave to finish that fucking presentation he’d been given. He’d managed a huge chunk of it the day before, but he wanted to go over it and add the final pieces. Oh yeah, they would regret thrusting that thing on him by the end of Monday. By Key’s estimates, the presentation would last almost two hours. He’d gone into every single teeny tiny piece of information and detail that he knew they knew, but fuck it. They wanted a presentation; they would get a presentation.

Smirking, Key eventually said goodbye to Charles, took the food thrust into his hands and drove home.

No sooner had he entered his apartment and turned the lights on, than that familiar feeling crept over him. His stalker, watcher, follower, whatever the hell he was, was there again. Key was tempted to tease again, but who was he really teasing and what would the repercussions be? Did he care?

Licking his lips, Key stood by the window, staring out into the dark night. He couldn’t see much, but it was the feeling, the sensation that told him what he needed to know. He placed a hand on the window, feeling the cold seep into his skin. What would he do if another hand appeared?

Well, he’d freak the fuck out considering he was on the top floor.

Maybe he should leave one open and… what the fuck was going on with him that he was standing there thinking about leaving a window open?

Ignoring his hard dick, no, fuck that. He ran a hand over his bulge, licking his lips again, and gave in to the feelings coursing through him. He tilted his head to one side, exposing his neck. Why, he didn’t know. He lifted his hand from the window and ran his fingers down it.

He squeezed his dick, gasping, then rubbed it with the heel of his hand. He could feel the man still there, still watching, and he suddenly grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it off, letting it slide from his fingers and hit the floor with a dull sound.

His nipples were hard, and he lifted a finger to his mouth, letting his tongue slide out and sucked one inside. Slipping it out, he rubbed his nipple with it, then grinned and shut the curtains. Maybe he had a kink for voyeurism because he shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t be taunting the man who watched him.

But he wanted to, because he liked it and that could lead to trouble. Which Key wanted.