CHAPTER 6 - GUNNER

"Well, the rules are actually—"

"Don't bother. I already had it all memorized," Layland said, cutting me off.

"I was right again."

He raised one of his eyebrows once again. "That I am well aware of the rules?"

I hummed while nodding. "And that you were purposely not following it, which made it even clearer to me how much of a brat you can be."

"If living my life the way I want to, being honest with myself, and not living with a pretense is being a brat, then so be it," Layland retorted in a firm voice and steady gaze. "I will be a brat as long as it means I will have my freedom."

I did not speak right away after that. I just stared at him, amazed at the firmness and the courage that could be clearly seen in his eyes.

I can tell that no matter what I say or do, nothing can convince him to follow the rules of his parents. It was obvious that Layland will stand on his ground and will never be swayed by my words.

Truth be told, seeing him standing firm on what he believes in was astounding. Somehow, he reminds me of myself. Because if I were in his shoes, I am sure I would be doing the same thing—fighting for my own happiness and freedom, as it's one of the few things he will never allow to be taken from him.

But in this situation, his own feelings towards Layland's bravery don't matter. He has a job to do, and it needs to be done without any problems.

It's not like it was the first time that he felt sorry for his client or his assignment, and he's always done an excellent job of not tending to his own opinions and emotions. Hopefully, he can do—no, he will definitely do the same thing with Layland.

He feels sorry for the kid, but he's got to do what he was hired for.

“Look, I commend you for standing and fighting for your happiness and freedom. Not everyone can be as brave as you, especially when the fight is against their parents. But I have a job to do, kid, and I have to commit to it. So I'm sorry, but I will still impose the rules your parents have left me, and I will make you follow it by hook or by crook.”

It was Layland's turn to be speechless, with disbelief filling his face. He scoffed and said, “I can't believe this… So what I feel doesn't matter as long as you can do your job? It doesn't matter that… fuck!”

He bit his lower lip. He looked like there's more he wanted to say, but he was holding it back.

He shook his head; disbelief was still clearly evident in his face. “You're a scum,” he whispered with his jaws clenched, a sign of how angry he was.

“I am just doing my job, Layland,” I said in all seriousness, hoping he would understand even though I already knew that he wouldn't, which was valid. Because even I was barely making myself understand that my job has to come first over my own feelings about the harsh and lonely life Layland’s parents wanted him to live in.

Layland did not say anything for a few minutes. He just looked me in the eyes. And I don't know how he easily did it, but the anger in his eyes has vanished, replacing it with emptiness. He was gazing at me as if he had lost all the hopes he had put on me, and that weighed me down. So I cleared my throat and looked everywhere but at Layland as I started to speak again.

“I know you don't like this arrangement, but I need you to cooperate with me, kid.”

“...”

“Layland…”

“...”

I sighed upon not hearing an answer from him. Did he just make a mission to stop talking to me because I did not yield to him?

“Alright. You don't have to speak. You don't have to say anything. Just listen to me, okay?”

“...”

“From now on, the only place you will be in is this mansion. Unless it's necessary, then you are not allowed to go out.”

It was then that I finally got a reaction from Layland again, making me turn to look at him again, only to see his eyes widening and his lips slightly parting.

I swear it was not my intention, but my eyes, as if they had a mind of their own, went to the brat’s parted lips.

And there goes that feeling again—that feeling of suddenly getting thirsty, that feeling of suddenly wanting to taste his lips so I could know what they tasted like or if they were really as soft as they looked…

I blinked. Repeatedly at that.

Hold on... Did I just think of kissing him?

Holy shit… What the hell…?

"So you're going to lock me in here?"

Layland's sharp voice pulled me out of my shocking reverie.

I forced my thoughts about unconsciously wanting to kiss his lips to vanish as I looked into his sharp, blade-like eyes, which was an indication of how much he wanted to stab me to death.

I almost smiled at his bratty attitude and behavior coming back, which I prefer to him giving me that blank stare. I liked it more when he was childish. I prefer him yelling at me or giving me snarky comments to his silent treatment.

“Technically, yes. I already told you, I will do my job, and doing my job means imposing the rules your parents left me. And as I said, I will have you follow those rules, Layland, by hook or by crook. If I have to lock you up or tie you around my waist just so I don't lose you from my sight, I will.”

That might sound like too much, but I am willing to go to those lengths if I have to. For me, my brother, and the image of our company, I am more than willing to do everything just to get my job done, and that includes using force if needed.

“I will be going back to college next week,” Layland said through gritted teeth. “Don't tell me you'll still follow me around even when I have to go to my classes.”

“I won't tell you then.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me!”

“I'll drive you to your college, wait until your classes are over, and then drive you home again,” I said nonchalantly. “Basically, I'll be following you around everywhere you go like your damn shadow.”

“No. No fucking way. There is no way I will allow you to make me look like a child that needs supervision.” Layland's nose was flaring, and his eyebrows were so furrowed he was creating wrinkles on his forehead. He's mad, alright? But there's nothing I can do about that. I've got to do my job.

“Actually, you're worse than a child,” I said while grinning, causing his eyes to widen even more.

“What did you just say?” He yelled as he stood, looking so mad it looked like he was so close to strangling me to death.

I grinned. Yep, that's what I wanted to see.

His jaws clenched. “You…”

"Chill, Lay. Relax,” I said immediately, my voice remaining calm although I was grinning.

“Do not call me that,” he answered with his teeth still gritting in anger.

“But why? Layland is too long. Lay’s much easier to say,” I replied indifferently before crossing my arms over my chest while still grinning at him.

He stared at me in silence once again. But only for a few seconds this time, as it seems that he quickly realized that I’ll still call him whatever I want no matter how many times he tells me not to.

He returned to his seat and did the same sitting posture I have—crossing his arms over his chest while his legs were apart.

Again, it wasn't my intention, but my eyes landed on his parted legs. I don't know how I ended up in that thought, but damn, Layland looked sexy as hell.

I shook my head as I internally pulled my own hair. Seriously, what the fuck is happening to me?

A deep sigh from Layland brought me out of my reverie once more.

“I go out on weekends,” he said without looking at me.

“Where?”

“Bars, clubs,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It would be a no then.”

But as if he didn't hear me, he continued speaking. “Weekends are my sex days. I'll go out and search for hot and sexy guys to fuck me.”

I gave him a look so sharp that if only looks could kill, he would already be lying on the floor right now.

“You won't go to bars or clubs, and you definitely won't fuck around,” I said with an edgy voice.

“I can't fuck around?” He asked with one of his eyebrows raised.

“You won't,” I repeated, my jaws clenched.

Goddamn. Just imagining him getting fucked by someone was enough to make my blood boil.

No. Hell no. There's no fucking way I'll get him to sleep around.

“Give it to me then.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“The sex. Give it to me.”

It was my turn to gape, which rarely happens.

What the… Did I hear him right?

“If I am not allowed to leave the house, if I am not allowed to fuck around, then let me have it in this house then. And since you're the one who is so adamant about not letting me have sex with other people, then be the one to give it to me. Give me the sex, the fucking, that you do not allow me to get from anyone.”

It took me a couple of minutes before I found my voice again. “Have you gone nuts?” I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged as if he just didn't say something so fucking shocking it made me speechless. “I have needs, Gunner. Needs that have to be fulfilled and satisfied. But since I can't get it from the usual people that I find in the bars and in the clubs, then let me have it from someone near me, which is you.”

Once again, I was speechless. I don't know what to say. I'm just… flabbergasted.

Then all of a sudden, an image crossed my mind. It was an image of Layland, naked on the bed, while I was on top of him, thrusting my cock inside his asshole.

I gulped as I felt my body heating up as that image continued to float inside my head.

But when my manhood twitched, that's when I shook my head to mentally get rid of that image.

No. I can't think of that. How did my brain even come up with that image? I'm not into men. I'm not into gays. I'm straight, for fuck’s sake!

But no matter how many times I recited that I am not interested in Layland, the image of us fucking just wouldn't go away. And it even got worse when my fucked-up eyes landed on Layland's beautiful and luscious lips. And just like that, the thought I had a while ago—the thought of wanting to have a taste of his lips—came rushing back, causing me to curse.

That's it. I can't stay here any longer. For the sake of my brain and my manliness, I need to get away from Layland.

So without saying anything to Layland anymore, I quickly stood up and turned around, then walked hastily towards the room reserved for me, which was right next to Layland's room.

I can hear Layland laughing while calling my name, but I did not, not even once, stop to turn and look at him. I just continued walking with the hopes of relieving myself without needing that mental image of Layland and me fucking.

Fuck! A cold shower should be all that I'll need. It should be, or else I'm really going to go crazy.