1. Stanton

1

STANTON

M usic played in the elegantly decorated ballroom of my family home, and as I closed the patio door behind me, I breathed a sigh of relief as it faded. My mother, Clora, still carried on the tradition of employee soirées as celebrations for successful projects and holidays. She was the face of Sanderson's Investments since my father passed away a few years earlier. I hadn't taken my place at the helm yet, and honestly, I didn't believe I ever would. The thought of sitting behind a desk for the rest of my life bored me.

Mama had given up on thinking I'd take over, too. I loved the job I had as an event planner with my own company. People claimed I was a social butterfly—being a trust fund kid caused people to assume a lot. Normally, I just brushed it off; other times, it irked me because every night I played host, all I wanted to do was go home. I'd even tried to get out of my mother's party, but she'd have hunted me down.

I removed my beautifully tailored jacket of my signature three-piece pinstripe suit and draped it over one of the patio chairs. Tipping my head back, I stared up at the night sky. I frowned as I heard a soft sob close by, and I quickly searched the shadows. I noticed a tall, husky frame almost blending into the darkness. I lightened my stride as I approached the huddled form and stopped mid-step as I spotted the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

That's when I noticed the tears wetting his face. A handsome one etched with time and experience. He was vaguely familiar, but I didn't know why. Another hitch in his breathing caught my attention and urged me forward. He flinched as I stopped in front of him. He was tall enough that I had to tip my head back to study his expression.

Slowly I raised my hand, gauging his reaction to him welcoming my touch. "Such beautiful eyes should never have a tear in them." I stroked his spiky lower lashes with my thumb as I smiled at him. His wavy silver hair fell across his furrowed brow. I gently traced the lines beside his eyes.

As I stroked my hand around to the back of his neck, he didn't take his gaze off mine. I gripped him tight to bring him slowly down to me. My only consolation was I gave him plenty of time to tell me no until his breath fanned my lips.

"Oh, baby, are you going to let me kiss you? Yes or no?" I teased him as his attention never moved away from my face. A stuttered yes was the prettiest sound I'd ever heard. His lips were stiff against mine, but a fine tremor moved along his body.

"Open for me, baby." I felt just the tiniest movement of his lips parting, and then the patio door banged open, and he shoved me backward. He darted out into the night without looking back.

I muttered curses under my breath as I shoved my hands into my pockets. It was an employee party, so he had to work for my family. There was nowhere that man could hide I wouldn't find him. That beautiful boy needed a Daddy to make him smile. I'd have more than one kiss at midnight.

Beckett Asher. That was my boy's name. I'd searched every floor the Monday after the party until I'd gotten that information by describing him to a few of my usual informants. I'd worked my way down from the executive floor because I hadn't been ready for the rumors to fly by asking too many questions. When I'd reached the fourth where the legal department was, I'd spotted him behind his desk. I'd barely resisted storming into his office.

The night of the party, I'd thought he was pretty, illuminated only by the small lights in the flower beds. In the full light, he was even more stunning, with his silver hair neatly styled and a gorgeous face with full lips I was dying to kiss again, this time without interruption. His baby-blue dress shirt showed off powerful shoulders and a broad chest.

"I'm going to seduce the head of your legal department," I announced as I watched my mother behind her massive desk. She slowly panned away from the screen of her laptop, her pretty, gray eyes, which matched mine, boring into me. I smiled sweetly; it was the expression that had gotten me out of trouble since I was a baby. The dimples were her weakness. Of course, being the only child also helped. I'd gotten away with a lot in my twenty-seven years.

"Why do you do this to me?" she asked.

"Whatever do you mean?" I attempted to sound innocent. Yet, I'd never been able to pull that off well.

"Why don't you just go to a club and find someone to hook up with? I'd really appreciate it."

The corners of my mouth stretched wider at her suggestion. It was classically her. She always tried to shift my focus to something else when she thought I was going to make a dumbass mistake. In the past, I'd allowed her to do it, but on this, I wouldn't be deterred.

"Nope. He's mine. "

"And he's the head counsel for the legal department. That's sexual harassment."

"I don't work here," I reminded her, smiling because I knew I was about to win.

"Again, why do you do this to me?"

"Mama, you're so dramatic."

As she leaned back in her chair, she shook her head at me. What could I say? The woman spoiled me rotten and expected me to behave. I'd wanted to give her the courtesy of informing her of my plan before I approached my boy, but that's all it was—a courtesy. Nothing she said would change my mind about claiming him. One look, one kiss, and I was already obsessed with the beautiful man. To me, he was perfect. What was I supposed to do? Ignore it? Absolutely not.

I was all for claiming my feral lack of impulse control. Was I going to do better? Hell no. She'd made me the man I was, so she should've known better by now. I just kept staring at my mama, watching her blood pressure rise by the second.

"Which one is he again?"

"Beckett. Silver hair and beard. Big blue eyes. Husky body meant to be cuddled on my lap."

She groaned and started to rub her hands over her face but stopped short the moment she seemed to remember doing so would mess up her flawless makeup. I knew every professionally covered gray hair she had was all my fault, and I took pride in each of them. It would be dishonest to deny I grabbed every opportunity to remind her that my gay ass didn't ask to be here. Although, my homophobic male genetic contributor was rolling himself dizzy in his grave. If the afterlife existed, he was screaming into the abyss, listening in on Mom and my conversations.

"How old is he," she asked as she shifted in her chair.

"I don't know. Gloria in human resources wouldn't give me his employment record even though I asked nicely and everything. She forgets that my name's on the building."

"Your name isn't on the ownership papers. There's nothing I can say to talk you out of this?"

"Nope," I said and popped the P.

The heavy sigh she released told me everything I needed to know about her opinion on my latest scheme.

I didn't blame her. It wasn't like I'd taken much seriously in my life, but this, Beckett, my boy … I was making him a priority. Although, I had to anticipate my reputation wouldn't go over well with a man like Beckett. Yet he was worth the effort.

"Get the hell out. Don't you have some party to plan?"

"No, Mama, I was going to do some recon and maybe say hi to my boy again."

"Again?"

Aside from spending time there with her, I didn't bother coming to the office often. She was curious how I'd encountered her employee. If I'd known Beckett worked there, I'd have stalked the office a lot sooner.

"Oh, yes, he was at the party. I found him hiding outside, and he was crying, so I kissed him to make him feel better."

"That's why I never let you work here. Our sexual harassment suits would bankrupt us."

"I'm offended. If they work in this building, they're off limits—well, until now. Any other time I have control of my dick."

She sucked her teeth at me and went back to typing on her laptop. And she wondered why I turned out the way I did. All her eggs were gay. She'd have had a whole army of gay children if she hadn't shut that shit down after one. I wouldn't have made a good sibling anyway. I'd never liked to share.

"Stanton, I adore you; I've pampered and spoiled you for twenty-seven years, fostered that overabundance of confidence, but this gentleman sounds mature, and you're… you." She motioned at me with a sweep of her slender arms .

"I can be mature…"

She arched a perfectly groomed brow.

"I can! I'll show you," I promised. "There's something different about this one, Mama. He's hiding something, a vulnerability that he just needs to feel safe enough to show. I want to be his safe space, and, yes, I'll admit, I'm a bit on the flakey side and rarely take anything seriously, but I really want this one." I pleaded with my eyes in that way I knew she'd never been able to deny.

"Fine." She huffed, giving in like I'd known she would. "All I'm saying is that some people don't want to be played with. They want something real, and when people reach a certain age, they have no time for games. So be careful with this one, and in the process, try not to get that tender heart of yours broken."

"Thanks. As I said, I'm going to do some recon to get some likes and dislikes. I looked, and he has no social media presence. This was harder than I planned."

"Good thing you're sneaky and most everyone around here adores you. Your antics have always amused them."

"Points in my favor." I pushed up from the chair in front of my mother's desk and smoothed my suit, doing up the two top buttons on my jacket. My flawless model stroll caused a choked-off laugh as not to encourage me. "How do I look?"

"You're exceptionally handsome, and you know it. That's part of your problem. Now, away with you, I have things to do."

I told her I loved her, rushing around the desk to loudly kiss her cheek as she batted me away. As I crossed the room to exit her office to the rest of the executive floor, I glanced around, looking for any of my usual informants. If there was one thing I was good at, it was making friends. I was personable, charming, and handsome with a bright smile. I wasn't vain, I was confident, and that wasn't a bad thing. My friends had wondered aloud many times over my life that charming people were just sociopaths with a pretty exterior. At least I had an ego made of steel .

No one caught my attention for possible new information. Knowing my mother, she'd already put the word out as a companywide memo just to annoy me.

Instead of waiting around, I made my way to the fourth floor. As I stepped off the elevator, I eased to the side so I wasn't in full view of my boy's office. He always seemed to be behind his large desk, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he alternated flipping through files and checking something on his laptop.

Fuck, he was more gorgeous every time I saw him. His wavy, silver hair was barely tamed. His broad jaw was covered with a neatly trimmed beard that framed the most kissable lips. I remembered the exact feel of them—how they cushioned mine when I'd kissed him. Why was a man with his sleeves rolled up to expose strong forearms so damn sexy? Forearm porn. Yet when he was standing, that belly of his was cuddle-worthy, and Daddy was dying to get his hands on it.

There was an edge of insecurity, too, because my mother was right about one thing—he was a mature man and probably past the bullshit stage of his life. That meant I had to prove to the older man I was serious about making him mine and that I wasn't too young to be his Daddy. Overall, I wasn't very Daddy-like or even screamed Dominant Top, but no one would be better to him than me. I'd spoil him in every way if he gave me a chance.

First, I needed to learn a bit more about him, and his schedule was a great place to start.