Third Date

mature audiences only 18+! contains an age gap, dark romance, explicit sexual content/ scenes, crime, light BDSM, gunplay, murder/violence, etc. Some situations will not be suitable for all readers. Read at your own discretion*

Deacon

Another week has flown by in the blink of a fücking eye, since my last date with Myla.

It feels like I haven't seen her in months, though.

We've been talking religiously on fücking Tinder, from the moment our eyes open in the morning, to the time they close for bedtime, and I still can't get enough of her. She's got me feeling things I've never felt before, even with my ex-wife, and I'm not exactly sure how to process all the shït floating around in my fücking head. I'm trying, though; I'm trying hard to let down my steel walls and let her inside little by little. I wasn't expecting it to be this hard, though; then again, nothing is ever easy, is it?

"Come on, old man. Are you ready for this or what?"

My son gets my attention as he slides into the driver's seat of my Jaguar, excited about the driving lesson I've been promising him.

I laugh and do a double-take as he shuts the door to my very fücking expensive car.

I shake my head no and motion for him to get out; he's not taking her for a ride today.

"Are you crazy, Trav? Ain't no fücking way I'm letting you practice driving in my Jag."

"Aww, come on! Can we take the Mercedes then?"

"Again, no. Get in the fücking BMW, I'll let you drive her around today."

"Sweet, thanks, Dad!"

We walk over a few cars and climb into my white beamer, one of many in my car collection.

He starts it up and revs the engine, making the loud sound echo throughout the garage I keep them parked in.

I give him simple instructions on adjusting the mirrors- both rearview and sides and make sure his seat is comfortable for him so he's not leaning back like a fücking hood rat. Once we pull out on the open road, he guns it down the busy streets of LA, while still keeping it right around the speed limit. I pay attention to his every move and our surroundings around us, making sure we're not being followed and he's not driving like a maniac. So far so fücking good, though.

I watch him, giving him a side-eyed look catching the little beauty mark he has on his cheek, just like his mother did; they're identical. I can't blame her that she left me, especially after all the shït I put her through and all of the shït she found out about me But, what I can blame her for, is leaving our fücking five-year-old son without a mother, and disappearing from our lives completely, without so much as a fücking letter or phone call to let us know if she's okay. I never got anything from her, and it's now going on seventeen years since she left without a trace. Travis and I don't talk about his mother often, and when we do we shut the topic down pretty quickly, neither of us knowing what the fück to say. He's getting older, though, and it seems like in the blink of an eye. I know my son looks up to me and thinks of me as his hero. But would he still feel the same way if he knew everything I've fücking done? I'm a monster; the devil. I fear that he'll no longer think of me as the kind of man he wants to be, once I tell him about my past; about our past.

X

I lay here in my bed, in my dark fücking room all alone, wishing I could have Myla here with me right now. I barely heard from her today, but that's not her fault; I had a fücking busy-ass day with work and Travis' driving lesson, which he did amazing during, by the way. I'm so proud of the young man he's becoming right in front of my eyes. And then it fücking hits me like a freight train... Travis and Myla are only five years apart. I don't know why all of a sudden, this thought just fücking hits me now when it's been known the whole few weeks Myla and I've been talking. Jesus, he's gonna lose even more fücking respect for me when I tell him I'm dating a twenty-one-year-old; a girl young enough to be his fücking sister.

I power up my phone and as soon as the fücking thing lights up, I tap on the Tinder logo, anxiety getting the best of me as it creeps up my throat and tightens inside my chest. I told you, I'm like a fücking fein for Myla; I'm having withdrawals from not having her regularly. How can this little tiny twenty-one-year-old have such an overpowering effect on me; a man twice her fücking age?? I get to Myla's profile again and smile at the sexy profile picture she chose. I zoom in on her face and hover my thumb over her lips on the screen, imagining I was pushing it into her mouth right fücking now. Her pouty, pink lips taunt me from the goddamn screen, and all I can think of is what they're gonna feel like when they're finally wrapped around my shaft, and kissing the skin around the base of my dick. By the way, she opens her mouth when she moans my fücking name, I can already tell that she's gonna be great at giving head. With my cock already hard and in desperate need of a release, I tap on Myla's message icon and type out a new one for her, praying like a fücking priest that she's awake and answers back immediately. Pathetic, don't I fücking know it? I decide against a message and just try to fucking get some sleep instead, even with my cock still hard as a fucking rock. I power the thing off and lay it on my nightstand, trying to close my fucking eyes for some much-needed rest.

The next day

I woke up drenched in fucking sweat from yet another goddamn nightmare. Julio Lopez being out of fucking jail is hitting close to home for me; it's fucking with my mental state big fucking time. I don't know how many times I fucking logged back into Tinder last night debating whether or not to send Myla a fucking message, but I chose not to; I didn't want to keep her from her rest. I showed up early to HQ this morning since I couldn't sleep. I spent hours in the gym trying to work through the fucking demons screaming in my head. It always helps for a little while, but they're fucking inevitable no matter what method I try. So, now I'm back in the locker room, gearing up for yet another day with thirty-squad, adjusting my bulletproof vest right as Carter walks in looking still half asleep.

"Morning, sunshine." I tease.

"Ugh, fuck off, Deac. There's nothing fucking good about this morning."

"A little hungover or what?"

"Nah, not today, although I wish I was. Some shit popped off in my neighborhood last night, and I've been dealing with a fucking crime scene until about an hour ago"

I shut my locker and turn to him slowly, terrified to my core to ask what happened; because deep fucking down, I think I have a fucking idea.

"Why the fuck wasn't I called?"

"Commander didn't wanna bring you in, Deac."

"And why the fuck not?"

"Because, Street, it involves Julio and I personally don't think you're mentally strong enough to handle a case involving him at the moment."

I whip around at the sound of Luca's voice, fuming on the inside and fucking livid.

"I told you I was fucking fine, Luca."

"Yeah, and I didn't feel like you were fine. There's nothing wrong with sitting one out, Street. We need you well, man, and we always look out for family."

"I get that, Luca, but what the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

"Go home, get some rest, spend some time with your boy, get some pussy; the possibilities are endless."

He walks out of the locker room as I rip my vest off and shove it into my locker, slamming the motherfucking thing so loud that it pierces my ears with a sharp noise, even pissing off a sleepy Carter too. I sit on the bench feeling completely fucking defeated, hanging my head in my hands and taking a breather before I decide what to do next and where to go from here. Julio Lopez keeps fucking my life up even when he isn't doing shit to me personally. Once Carter is in his SWAT gear- all the shit I just took off, he pats me on the back and strolls out of the locker room, leaving me sitting here with my phone in my fucking hands as these motherfucking teenie-boppers do constantly nowadays. However, I put it away, deciding I just want to get the fuck out of the building. I manage to sneak out of HQ and get right into my car without being stopped by anyone and I couldn't be any fucking happier about it. I know I should probably go home right away, but my son has his homeschool teacher over, and since we haven't met yet, it would be awkward as fuck for me. Instead of going home, I head right over to the beach that's blocks away from my house, dying to talk to my little one again. I pass the Dark Desires Gentlemans Club I'm a member of on my drive to the beach, and get an instantly overwhelming urge to whip a bitch into the parking garage, and take my horny, desperate ass right on inside and get me a little play time in. But thinking of Myla, I drive right past it and don't even bother to look out my fucking window at the one place I feel like I can be myself. My cock hardens and pushes against my slacks, making driving a very fucking tedious task for me right now. I need a release; I'm too wound the fuck up. Even if I have to stroke my fucking cock at the motherfucking beach just to feel better, then I will, and with Myla's help too. I pull into the parking lot but park away from all the other fucking cars. I need every bit of fucking privacy for what the fuck I'm about to do right now. I unbuckle, take my phone out, and make myself comfortable as I recline my seat a little. I pull up Myla's message and send one immediately.

"What the fuck are you doing, little one?"

"I'm finishing up a tutoring session, why are you okay?"

"No, I'm fucking not; I need you, Myla."

"Tell me what you need, baby."

"Make me fucking cum, little one; right fucking now."

"Of course, Daddy, tell me what you want me to do."

"Tell me what you'd do if you were here with me right now, little one. Tell me how you'd make me cum down that pretty little throat of yours..."

Seeing her call me daddy is the last thing that pushes me off the edge, giving in to the desirable urge to stroke my cock right fucking now. I unzip my pants and wrap my hand around my dick, squeezing tight as I pump my hand up and down my shaft, watching the phone to see what Myla writes back.

"Well, first, here's a lil pic for you to look at while you jerk off."

"Holy, shit... But, I gave you a fucking order. Tell me what the fuck you'd do to my cock, you bad girl. Tell me how you'd suck me dry, little one, and don't be shy... I'm stroking my cock as we speak, I fucking need you to make me cum, Myla."

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

Her fucking timidness is showing big time right now, even over text. I can tell she was fucking mistreated before, and if I find out which dom tortured her the way he did, I'll fucking kill him.

"I want your cock in my mouth, Daddy... I'll take you between my lips and suck on the tip of your cock, licking the little beads of precum from the tip."

"Lick it all, Myla."

"I will, Daddy, and I'll suck your cock down my throat, and I promise that I won't gag."

"You'd better not fucking gag... I'll push your fucking head down and choke you with my cock as I fuck your mouth while you gasp for air, Myla."

"Yes, Daddy, push my head down and fucking choke me. Make my spit drip everywhere and tell me what to do, Daddy."

The last line sends me over the edge immediately. Her vulnerability comes out tenfold when she thinks she's in trouble, and it makes me even harder than I've ever been. My seed jets out thickly, seeping through my fingers and onto my pants, but I don't give a fuck and I keep pumping my cock with force.

"Little one, you're okay. I just came all over the fucking place."

"I did okay? I wasn't bad at it?"

"Absolutely not, Myla. You're fucking perfect and you're such a good little girl. You're my fucking, good little girl; do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy; I understand that I'm yours and only yours."

I smile as I wipe the cum off of my hand and pants, already ready to fucking bust another load just thinking about her fat ass in the last pic she sent me.

X

Back home I open the good bottle of bourbon and pour myself a glass, taking it to my office to try and unwind before I see Myla tonight. Tonight isn't going to be like our other dates- nope. As much as I want to go right into pounding into her tight little pussy, there are some things we have to fucking talk about first. Here I go again, sounding like a fucking woman, but Myla and I do need to talk about a lot. We've been doing this whole little message back-and-forth thing for almost an entire month already. I can already tell she isn't just a hit-it-and-quit-it type of girl. This is fucking fantastic for me because I'm not looking for a hit-it-and-quit-it type of girl, at least not anymore; not since I met Myla. She's too fucking pure, too goddamn innocent to just be able to fuck and walk away from. She's everything I've been looking for and then some. How am I so sure about her already? I don't fucking know, to be honest; call it intuition if you must. I nurse my first glass of bourbon, enjoying the rich taste that lingers on my tongue after each sip. Sitting here alone and in the dark is normal for me, but now I find myself missing the light that Myla brings into my life. She makes my dark world bright like she was made just for me or some shit like that. There are so many fucking things I need to ask her but I've been too much of a damn pussy to open my damn mouth. When I'm around her, every single thought leaves my head and turns me into this man that I've never been before. I'm not the same sadistic, cold bastard that I usually am. I'm a better fucking version of myself thanks to Myla. Ah, my sweet fucking Myla... my little one. Finally, on my second glass of amber-colored liquor, I make a mental note of the things I want to talk to Myla about tonight before we even get to fuck. Although I'm a fucking dom and a damn man, I have other things on my mind than pussy. I love to fuck, don't get me wrong, and I love it rough and violent, but if thing between Myla and I has any chance of working, we have to face our demons together, even if it might be fucking uncomfortable as shit.

I need to tell her about some of my past... I need to tell her who I really am and what I like before we get further in and she decides she's not into the same shit as I am. That'll fucking break me into a million fucking pieces, and shatter my soul until even the shell of the man I am is fucking broken too. A part of me is screaming on the inside to just walk away from her; she's too young and innocent. The other part of me is screaming to not let her walk the fuck away from me. She might be too fucking young and innocent, but the good girls are usually the ones who have the dirtiest secrets and fantasies; I want to know what Myla's are. I want to know what turns her on and what gets her to cum. I wanna be the one to make her cum and scream my name as she fucking does it. I will be the only fucking man to make her cum. My name will be the only motherfucking name that leaves her perfect, plump lips when she's riding my cock and soaking me with her fucking sweet juices. My strong, dominant personality might be too much for her when I show her the real me and not some PG version I've created. Then again, all of our little interactions so far, have been pretty intense and if I must say so myself, she's very fucking good at following directions and seems to love the way I order her around and make her call me daddy. I love it when she calls me Daddy. That my friend, is a kink of mine, in case you haven't fucking figured it out by now. I might be ready to share my sexual desires with Myla and let her in about my son and ex-wife, but I'm nowhere near ready to tell her the one fucking thing that nobody knows about me. I don't know when I'll be ready, but if I hurt her again like I did when I choked her out, it's either I tell her the truth, or just let her go for her own fucking safety away from me; away from the devil himself.

I'm no fucking angel, I'm far fucking from it. Shit, even Lucifer was an angel at one point. I'm not proud of the things I've done or the person I can fucking be sometimes, but I never claimed to be in the first place. I'm ruthless and twisted, some might say sick in the fucking head. I just wrap it up to I'm the fucking devil, point blank period. Everyone will eventually find out, though, and I pray for every single fucking person who finds out my secret; I'll be coming for them. Looks like it's time to start getting ready for my third date with Myla...

Little one, here I fucking come.

-to be continued...