More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Benjamin Thomas was scary. Some people said he had ties to the mafia. Some people said he was the mafia. I didn’t necessarily want to stick around to find out, but I had little choice. When my body acted like this, my choices were ripped away.
“Then explain to me why you were asleep on the floor of my company’s locker room. I’ll give you sixty seconds.” “And then what?” He went rigid. “Excuse me?” “What will you do when my sixty seconds are up?” He pinned me with a hard look and flexed his fist like he was contemplating wrapping it around my throat. “Are you curious or stupid, Tobias?” “Both, I suppose.”
He was such a tiny thing, my boy, curled up in his big bed, the gift I’d chosen for him bundled at his side. I want to keep him.
“Is that the issue here? That you don’t know me?” His eyes bulged. “Uhm, yes? You are a stranger. I can’t live in a stranger’s house. Do you know who does that, who allows that? Crazy people!” My eyebrow quirked. “Are you calling me crazy?” “Yes.” He nodded. “You are a head trip. You bring me here, and the minute I ask a question or two, you get prickly and tell me to leave.” He sat up straighter. “So, I left, and you’re pissed about that too.”
“I thought we were past this. You are not going to die. Not from lupus and certainly not from a goddamn bullet.” “Well, technically, we all die at some point.” His tumbler hit the table. “I am nearly twenty years older than you. If you die before me, I will be royally pissed off.” “As opposed to what? You’re always pissed off.” “Shut up.”
“You are mine.” His voice was thick, dripping in certainty. “My baby. If you need something, I’ll provide it. If you’re sick, I’ll fix it. Your smiles, your laughs, your freckles, and those godforsaken tears all belong to me.”
“I’m not a nice man, baby. When Ryan is here, it’s possible there will be little reminders of that—of who I am. I need to know you won’t run away again.” I frowned. “What?” “I’m not mean Benji around you but that doesn't mean he doesn’t exist.” Forehead to mine, fingertips slipping across my freckles, his eyes seared, and there was something there I recognized. Desperation. “You are safe here, Toby, I swear with every goddamn inch of me no harm will come to you.”
“Fine. He will get one chance. If he fucks it up, he’s done.” “So I can meet him for lunch? Alone?” He looked at me, amusement painted throughout his handsome face. “Baby.” “What?” “Do you think you are alone when you go out?” I cocked my head. “I’m sorry?” “Toby, my men follow you everywhere. You never go anywhere alone—not to ballet, not to pizzeria’s, and sure as fuck not to lunch with Dan.”
“My baby!” He snarled, petting my hand. “Mine, mine, mine!” “Daddy.” The word left me with a whimper, and I solidified the second it was free, past my lips and hanging in the air between us like a loose tether—one wrong breath and I’d snap. “Say it again.” “Daddy.”
“Benji, everybody is going to call me a sugar baby.” “A what?” “Sugar baby!” He sat up and poked me in the chest. “You are the sugar daddy and I am the sugar baby.” That seemed accurate. Fuck yes, I was his Daddy. Fuck no, I didn’t care who knew. “Why are you smiling, Benji?” I looked down at him. “Baby, it makes me so fucking hard to think about all the ways you’re mine.”
It was wild—these feral, all-consuming thoughts I had about Toby. He was my treasure, something personal and priceless and I worshiped him accordingly. Just a few months ago, I scoffed at the idea of loving anybody but myself. Now, holding his body in my arms, I felt like a fucking king. I lived for the moments he got on his knees for me, staring up at me as if he knew I would set the earth on fire if he asked.
“What?” “Oh, I’m just checking to see if you’re still alive.” “I think I’ve proven time and time again that I can’t be killed.” I sat back in my chair, eyeing my computer. “Are there articles circling about my death I don’t know about?”
“Making you happy, sweet pea, is my greatest honor.” “Do I make you happy, too?” I jolted, peering down at him, frowning at the insecurity looped through his features. “Of course you do.” “I wish I could give you the things you give me.” “I don’t need things, Tobias, I just need you.” I pinched his cheeks and forced his head up. “You are the literal air in my lungs, and there isn’t a fucking thing I won’t do to keep you. Understand?”
He’d said he missed me terribly, and if he could, he’d tear off his skin and wrap me in it so I didn’t have to be alone. It was morbid—but also romantic and very Benji.
“Tell me he’s gone.” I took several breaths, face in Benji’s chest while I forced myself back to reality. “Tell me you killed him, Daddy.” “For touching you?” He lifted my chin, licking at my tears. “Sweet pea, I peeled the skin off his bones.”
He turned me inside out, and I would tear my skin off my bones to drape it around him if I was capable. Until Toby, I didn't believe I possessed a soul. Now I knew I had one, because it was hungry for him. I owned him—his fear, his happiness, his body, and his breaths. He was mine, and I was his.
“Ryan’s father used to say lack of compassion was what made men into monsters. You are my compassion, Toby. My love. My soft side.” Leaning forward, he placed a pillow soft kiss on my lips, whispering his next words. “Any shred of good in me will always remain because of you.”
