Chapter 7

Mason’s POV

This was exactly why I hated coming home. I did not want to be here at all. In fact, I was already starting to regret why I even showed up. If my mom had not told me that Alaric was coming over for dinner, and that it would be rude for me to skip after she had already said I would be there, I would not have come. But now, with how things were going, I wished I had just stood my ground. I should have said no, no matter what she said. I could have been at my apartment right now, alone with my thoughts, or maybe chatting with that man online who made my cock throb with his commands. Instead, I sat here, trapped in this house full of expectations that choked me.

The backyard felt too open, the sun beating down on my skin as we sat around the table after eating. Jane kept talking non-stop about her son in college, going on and on about how well he was doing, how he got into the same school my dad had gone to years ago. It dragged on endlessly, her voice high and proud. And to make it worse, my dad started nodding along, clearly impressed. He even hinted that it was not too late for me to go back to school. He looked at me with those eyes, the ones that made it clear he thought I was failing him.

I shifted in my chair, my jeans tight against my thighs as I tried to ignore the pressure building in my chest. My mind wandered, searching for an escape. I pictured Alaric sitting across from me, not as my dad’s friend, but as something else entirely. As the kind of man who could pin me down, his strong hands holding my wrists in place while he leaned in close and gave quiet, firm commands.

My cock stirred at the thought, half-hard under the table. I crossed my legs quickly to hide it, heat rising up my neck and into my face.

I could not get into school next year anyway. The deadlines had already passed. Sure, my dad would love it if I went there, just like Jane’s son. But deep down, I knew it was not really about the school. He just hated what I did now. I worked at a restaurant, served tables, came home tired but free and that was not enough for him. He wanted more, he wanted me in classes, studying to become something big and something impressive. A doctor, a lawyer, or just something that fits his idea of success, not mine.

I stared down at my plate, the scraps of food blurring as my thoughts spiraled. My chest tightened with frustration. If he knew the real me, the part of me I kept hidden, the one that craved control, that wanted to give myself over completely to someone stronger, he would lose it completely. I imagined what he would say, how he would look at me, like a weak and broken person but it was not weakness and was what I needed.

I just need someone older, confident and in control, someone who would take over without hesitation, who would not question it, who would see me for exactly what I was and not try to change it.

Alaric sat there quietly at first, his broad shoulders filling out his shirt. I caught myself stealing glances at him, my eyes tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the dark scruff that looked rough enough to leave marks if it brushed against sensitive skin. He was older, in his late forties, but he carried himself with strength. His arms looked powerful, the kind that could hold someone down easily, control every movement without effort.

My breath hitched slightly.

Why did he have to be here and why did my body react like this?

I had known him my whole life. He had always just been Alaric, my dad’s best friend. But now, things felt different. Now, I saw him in a way I could not ignore. Something about him pulled at me, made my body react in ways I could not control.

I wanted him to notice me and to really see me, to look past everything else and recognize what I was underneath.

My dad got up and went inside to use the bathroom. Jane followed soon after, heading into the kitchen to help my mom with dessert. The table felt quieter now and emptier as it was just me and Alaric.

His eyes met mine and held it.

“Are you okay?” he asked

I shrugged, trying to act like it did not matter. “I’m fine… despite what other people seem to think.”

I did not hate Alaric. He was a good man, very solid, successful and living life on his own terms. He had his own place, his own money, living his life with his own rules, with no wife, no kids, and with no one tying him down. He lived freely, and I envied that more than I wanted to admit.

And maybe that was part of the problem because I could not stop thinking about what he was like when he was alone.

“What do you mean?” he asked, leaning in slightly.

His scent hit me, it was clean and it made something twist low in my stomach.

“It’s nothing. Not a big deal,” I said quickly, trying to brush it off.

His brows pulled together slightly, his eyes sharpening as he looked at me more closely. It made it hard to look away. Those eyes felt like they could see straight through me, like they were searching for something I was not ready to give.

“I know this is about your dad,” he said, “but I want you to know that he cares about you.”

I let out a quiet, bitter breath and shook my head.

“Well, his ways of showing it aren’t exactly great,” I muttered. Then the words came out before I could stop them. “Can’t you see how he wants me to be him so badly? You say he loves me, but he’s not proud of who I am. He’s disappointed in me.”

My voice cracked slightly at the end, and I hated that it did.

“Okay…” Alaric said slowly, watching me carefully.

“Nothing,” I added quickly, looking away. “Don’t mind me. I’m just ranting.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” he said after a moment. “But one thing I want you to know is that you’re allowed to feel how you feel, Mason… and you’re allowed to live the life you want.”

His words hit me harder than I expected.

My head turned back toward him immediately, my eyes locking onto his. I really looked at him then, at the strength in his posture, the calm certainty in his expression, the way he said it like it was simple, like it was obvious and maybe it should have been but hearing it from him… it felt different.

My heart started to race, something shifting deep in my chest and lower, my body reacted without asking me first, my cock hardening fully, pressing tight against my jeans as I sat there staring at him.