4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Stanley

Two weeks and no sighting of Jobe.

Hadn’t been seen at Cordes.

Texted Devon, no sight of him at that club, either.

Asking for his number from the Head Mistress at Cordes was against the rules.

Showing up at his condo could be construed as stalking.

What the fuck was wrong with me and why the hell did I even care what’s going on with Jobe?

So, what did I do after that enlightening revelation? I circled the block a few times until a parking spot in view of the main doors to his building came into view and snagged it to wait.

Soon enough, a familiar person came into sight. The same one who popped out from the door beside Jobe’s as I left the morning I drove him home. That day when I’d turned just before the elevator and peered back, that guy emerged from his place and stepped into Jobe’s.

“Hey!” I called out as I jogged across the street, narrowly missing a car that honked at me. He turned just then, and his eyes widened. “You’re the guy who lives next door to Jobe, right?”

“Yes, and you’re that grouchy Daddy.”

Okay, not off to the best start.

“Honestly, I’m not grouchy. There’s just something about Jobe…”

“I get it but why are you here?”

“I wanted to check on him. He hasn’t frequented his usual haunts which concerned me.” He cocked a brow and I retraced. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Why didn’t you just call him?”

My face flushed, not the norm for me for sure. “I don’t have it. If I give you mine will you give it to him, please?” Too much?

“Look,” he chewed on his nail and side-eyed me. I nearly told him it was a bad habit and to stop, but I wasn’t his Daddy. “This goes against my better judgment. Jobe is okay, but he isn’t. If that makes any sense? Give me your phone and I’ll put his number in but under no circumstance are you to tell him I gave it to you. Deal?”

“Deal and thank you. I promise not to abuse this power you’ve bestowed upon me.” He grinned and I mentally cheered, having chosen the correct verbiage. I wonder if he has a Daddy.

Stay on track, Stanley.

Not for me, brain, but another Daddy.

Focus!

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I’m Stanley.” I shot my hand out and he shook it though reluctantly.

“Beck. And, Stanley,” his gaze met mine. “Don’t fuck this up. Jobe is my best friend and what he wants isn’t what he needs.”

“Noted.”

Beck stepped inside and I crossed back over to my car. It took a few minutes to talk myself out of texting right away and in the end, my brain won out when I realized I’d be checking for a return message while driving. Not safe by any means.

Not long after I got home, I fixed a drink then sat out on the balcony and stared at the phone.

“Fuck it. Worst that happens is he tells me to piss off and blocks me. At least I’ll know he’s fine.” Though Beck’s words pretty much confirmed that.

Me: How are you feeling?

Jobe: Who’s this?

Well, at least he asked who it was before he responded. Did I say Daddy Stanley? No, I wasn’t his Daddy, even though it’s my inner Daddy currently running this show.

Me: Daddy Stanley

The dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. I could only imagine what was coming next.

Jobe: Right…he won’t give me the time of day. Now, who the fuck is this?

Sassy boy in dire need of a firm hand for sure.

Me. Watch your mouth.

Jobe: Let’s both watch it while it’s wrapped around your cock.

And just like that, he was back to being a jackass. What was it about this boy that triggered me?

The need to make him submit without causing bodily harm.

Me: Was only checking to make sure you were fine and obviously you are, so I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your night.

“Fuck, why did I do that?” I slammed down the rest of my drink but by the time I got to the desk in my home office I was no better off. As soon as my laptop woke I searched for Jobe. Far too much came up to narrow it down, then it dawned on me. Beck put Jobe’s last name into the contact profile.

Jobe Worthy, twenty-seven, born in Las Vegas, Nevada. Child model.

I clicked on the first article and by the time I finished it I was angrier than when I’d started. At the young age of twenty he’d sued his parents for the rights to his own money after years of negligence and overspending by the two people he should’ve been able to trust.

The second article was no better than the first, recounting a lawsuit against a local Dom for damages bringing Jobe’s private life to the forefront. The pictures were horrific but given the last time I’d seen his back it was covered in blood, there was no way to see the scars that lay beneath the angry, crimson-stained skin.

“I remember that asshole.” That Dom was banned from every club nationwide. If these wannabe Doms didn’t think the club owners talked, they were fools. No wonder Jobe’s walls were thicker than Fort Knox. He’d been through hell and back at such a young age.

Proceed with caution , my brain lit up in neon red flags.

From there it was a series of less than desirable inebriated shots the paparazzi got of Jobe coming and going from various gay bars around town. Not his finest moments for sure. Along with some model shots for various clothing companies he’d contracted with over the years. He’d had quite a lucrative career for as young as he was.

Did I risk it and give him a chance and hope for the best, or did I heed the warning signs and run?

Well, Fuck it. Couldn’t call myself a caring Daddy if I didn’t reach out to a boy I felt was in need. Even if he was his own worst enemy.

Me: I’ll pick you up Friday night at seven.

Jobe: What if I already have plans?

Me: Do you?

Jobe:…No. But what makes you think I’ll go out with you?

Me: You’ve been trying and failing for months and now you have an opportunity. Take it or leave it. The choice is yours and I will not ask again.

Jobe: If this is just for sex, I’m down to fuck. No dinner required.

Was I up for the task of completely reprogramming a human?

Past me who created the multi-million-dollar app in my younger years would be all over that challenge. Forty-year-old me, not so much.

Me: No sex. Real, adult human date and conversation.

Jobe: Oh. Umm, okay?

Me: Don’t worry about it. Sorry I asked. Go back to whatever you’re doing.

Jobe: Sewing

Me: Excuse me?

He shot me a picture of a sewing machine surrounded by cuts of materials.

Jobe: See, sewing

I had no words. It was like the entire English language had been erased from my brain.

Me: What are you making?

A few minutes later pictures of various lingerie pieces filled the screen. I had to admit, they were sexy as hell.

Me: Wow, those are incredible. Are those outfits you’re modeling?

I could already picture those long, sexy legs bared with the skimpiest of lace covering his private bits. Jesus, down boy. I won’t deny I’ve always found Jobe attractive but once he opened that mouth of his and turned on the snark I checked out. Sweet littles were more my style, though peeling back the layers of Jobe had become my latest obsession it would seem. No denying the boy required a leash and muzzle, though.

Jobe: Those days are long gone. I take it you’ve googled me and landed on my tainted past.

Me: Something along those lines.

Jobe: And yet you still asked me out?

Me: I did.

Why did it feel like we were talking in circles?

Jobe: Now I’m intrigued, Daddy Stanley, as to why a man I so clearly do not fit the requirements for is interested in little ‘ol me.

And now I questioned my own sanity.

Jobe: All right, I’ll bite. I’ll be ready and waiting Friday at seven.

Too late to turn back now, Stanley. Remember, you started this and if it goes south you have no one to blame but yourself.

Me: See you then.

Now to figure out what to do with him.

If he were one of my littles it’d be a no brainer. I had a fantastic playroom in my place they all loved. Dinosaur nuggies and tots in the freezer, the whole deal, but with a boy as clearly jaded as Jobe was I’d have to wing it.

Shit, how long had it been since I went on a real date? If this could even be considered that.