The Prodigal Son (The Goode Brothers, #4)

by Sara Cate

Like a long-term fuck buddy. I’m pretty sure that’s a boyfriend, idiot.

The loneliness, the shame, the fear. All of that shit is Isaac’s problem, not Theo’s. Because things will probably never be as good as they are right now. So who the fuck am I to complain?

But I’m drunk, so I fake it and focus on how nicely muscled his thighs are and how good he smells and how nice his lips would look around my cock.

Maybe I should. If I had any good sense, I would take this beautiful woman to bed and fuck her like any normal straight man would. But I don’t. Because I’m not.

Then, just before the doors close, Jensen shoves his hand in to stop them. Bursting into the elevator, he says, “Just one more.” Taking my face in his hands, he kisses me hard again, and I grin like a fool against his mouth. Oh yeah, I’m fucked.

I have another hotel room, will he enter it this time? Will he sleep by my side? Will he let me undress him and explore his body the way I so desperately want to?

Not all that long ago, he was just a favorite singer of mine. Now…he’s so much more to me. He’s a man I’m growing feelings for. A real person with wounds and scars. After only a week, he has me wishing I could be the guy who makes sure he never gets hurt again.

“Jensen,” he cries out. “You’re going to make me come in my pants before the show.” “Good,” I reply with a smile. “Then you’ll have no choice but to think about me the entire time you’re up there.”

“What are you doing to me?” I gasp. “I’m showing you how good I’m going to take care of you,” he replies. “I want you to be mine.” On that word, mine, he squeezes just under the head of my cock, and my eyes start to roll. “I want to be yours,” I breathe. “I want to be the one to make you feel good, Theo. I’ll be here after every show, and I’ll take care of what’s mine. I’ve got you, understand?”

But then he growls in my ear and says, “Now be a good boy and come for me.”

“That’s it,” he whispers in my ear. “Good boy.”

There’s a dynamic between us I’ve never had before, and I’m intrigued by it. He’s so dominant and possessive, and I actually like it. I want him to own me, control me, take care of me, brand me. I want to be his.

His commanding presence catches me off guard, and my blood quickens in my veins when I realize just how much I like saying that to him. Honestly, who the fuck am I?

I want to savor this man.

He is sex and sin incarnate. All of my temptations wrapped up into one. Theo Virgil will be my downfall and my destruction, and right now, I welcome it. Let me burn in the fires of hell forever for that mouth of his. I won’t regret a thing.

“Theo, you are by far the hottest thing to me, and I think you always will be.”

“Yes, Isaac. Because I don’t just work there…I’m a pastor.”

“Yes, God, please,” I shout. “Don’t scream for God, Isaac. Scream for me,” he mutters in my ear.

on the rim makes my eyes roll. “That’s it. Lie down. I want to watch.”

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he mutters. “And you’re all fucking mine, aren’t you? My good boy.”

“Yes,” I cry out. “Fuck yes.”

might sound odd, but it’s the truth. I’ve spent the whole of my adulthood trying to live two different lives, avoiding relationships and running from my sexuality. I never once gave a second thought to starting a family. I was just trying to survive. But now…I have someone I could imagine raising a child with. I could see Isaac as a father. I could see us five or ten years down the road with a life like this, eating breakfast together, cleaning up after a messy and chaotic toddler, building something greater than ourselves.

Because I’m a sinner. I’m broken and unworthy. And wishing for anything more is futile.

The first time, I watched as a fan, then as a friend, and now through the lens of a lover. He is mine, and as long as I am alive, I will keep him. Not Theo Virgil, but Isaac Goode, the young, carefree, and sometimes adorably obnoxious love of my life.

Loving him is not evil. So why do I feel so sinful?

My head and my heart are at war.

And I’ll never have to see Truett Goode again.

They are the ones who are supposed to protect us, not change us.

I’m so fucking nervous, but I’m also so fucking ready. I’m ready for all of my closeted days to be behind me. Whatever the world throws at me, it couldn’t be worse than what I’ve already been through. So give me your worst.

When I bring my mouth back to the mic, the crowd quiets again. I close my eyes, and I speak my truth. Not just for myself and not just for Jensen. But for every single person out there who has been afraid to be themselves. For everyone who felt they had to hide. For everyone who has thought the best thing to do is to run away—either like I did or like Jensen tried to.

“Sorry about that,” I mumble into the mic. “My boyfriend is here.”

“This is for you. You know who you are.”

This connection between us is more than I ever imagined love could be. He is everything to me. My own soul. My own beating heart.

“Thank you for loving me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll love you until the day I die, Isaac Goode.”

“Right back at you, Jens...

These are the things people write songs about, and I have. These are the moments where I thank God for the mistakes I’ve made and the choices that led me here. These are the moments when I realize that I wouldn’t have it any other way.