Tempting Him by Isabel Lucero

16

“They knew.”

I mean to leave it there, not wanting to go into detail about how they found out, and subsequently how they felt about it. But there’s something in Jay’s eyes that makes me want to say a little more. After all, he told me his story.

“Neither of them were very thrilled about the news.”

His lips draw down into a frown. “Damn. I’m sorry. Did they ever get to the point of acceptance?”

I straighten stacks of papers that don’t need straightening. “Uh, no. They didn’t.”

“Unfortunately, the unconditional love you’re supposed to get from your parents comes with conditions sometimes, huh?”

The laugh that bubbles out of me is laced with anger. “Oh, definitely. One of them being I wouldn’t be in a long-term relationship with a man, because I was to marry a woman and have children.”

“What?” he exclaims, his eyes wide. “Even after finding out you were gay they wanted you to have a family with a woman?”

“My parents were quite old, Jay. Very traditional.”

“Fuck that. Traditional is typically some antiquated way of thinking, because it keeps getting passed down. Lots of awful things were traditional, and it doesn’t make them right.”

I nod, agreeing with him. “Our relationship was rocky, to say the least. They got to a point where they acted like they never knew. They introduced me to women, and if they ever questioned whether I liked someone, it was in direct reference to a woman they tried to force on me.”

He makes a face, a look between disgust and anger. “That’s fucked up.”

I shrug. “They had a plan in mind, and I was deviating from it.”

“Your plan and their plan doesn’t have to be the same.”

“I know.”

I watch as he chews on his bottom lip, his brows knitted as he contemplates his next words. “Is that why you’re a little…” My eyes narrow as I wait to hear what he’s going to say. He hesitates briefly. “I mean, you didn’t seem to want to tell me you were gay. Is it because they didn’t accept you?”

I exhale, shaking my head as I stand up. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

I don’t intend for it to come off rude, and I hope he doesn’t take it that way, but it’s true. Knowing the dirty details won’t fix or change anything, and the last thing I want is someone’s pity. Especially his. I don’t allow myself to be vulnerable with people. I don’t like for anyone to know the dark secrets I keep in my closet.

“Pizza’s here,” I announce, watching the delivery guy get out of his car.

He stands up. “I’ll go get it.”

Once he’s gone, I push a hand through my hair and blow out a breath. Talking about my parents always puts me on edge. Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean I’m free of them. Their words and threats live inside me, constantly reminding me of how I’m supposed to be and what I’m expected to do. Them dying didn’t release me, instead it left me with a lack of closure.

My parents beat into me the need for having a kid. I needed someone to take over the company. It needed to stay in our family since they worked so hard making it what it is.

The fights were constant, especially in the beginning. My dad actually caught me with a guy, and I thought he was going to kill me. After a while, I allowed them to think what they wanted. I didn’t have it in me to keep arguing and trying to get them to understand. It was never going to work. Eventually, I believe they tricked themselves into thinking they had changed me.

Jay’s not far off the mark when he asks if I’m the way I am because of my parents. Typically, children are shaped by their families and people close to them. That’s why things like homophobia and racism still run strong today. Children are being taught to be hateful. Nobody’s born knowing to hate a certain group, someone teaches them to, through words and actions.

On rare occasions, a child will grow up and realize the way they were brought up was wrong, and it is possible for them to break the cycle, but it doesn’t happen enough.

My parents never spoke about gay people until they found out about me. That’s when I learned their feelings on homosexuality. Regardless of how different we are, what they said has stayed with me, and affects me in my relationships to this day.

“I went to the break room and got some paper plates. They're pretty flimsy, though,” Jay says, walking in with two boxes—one holding pizza and one holding pasta.”

I walk back to my desk and clear it off. “That’s fine. Thanks.”

He watches me with curious eyes, perhaps trying to gauge my mood. “I also got some napkins and plastic forks for the pasta.”

I sit down across from him and grin. “Thank you.”

He smiles, and we break into the boxes and start eating. The conversation is no longer heavy, instead we discuss toppings we don’t like on pizza, and debate on the best drink to have with it. I say water, and he claims you have to have a carbonated drink.

“Come on, drink some of this Sprite. I’m telling you, it enhances the flavor.”

I shake my head, chuckling, but grab his bottle of Sprite and take a sip before taking another bite of my pizza. “It tastes the same.”

“No way,” he says with a laugh. “I’m gonna train you to only drink sodas when you have pizza and you’ll realize you’ve been wrong your whole life.”

“Sure,” I say with a snort, taking another bite.

“Okay, what about this? I swear to God, you better answer right. Do you season your popcorn?”

I make a face. “You mean, besides butter?”

He throws his arms up, letting them drop to his sides, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief. “You know they make actual seasonings for popcorn, right? It’s to enhance the flavor.”

“You and your enhancements.”

“Luckily I don’t need enhancements in certain areas,” he flirts with a wink.

“No, definitely not.”

His eyebrows raise. “Oh, a compliment?”

I shake my head, my lips forming a smile while I chew. “Just stating a fact.”

“That I’m well-endowed and probably the best dick you’ve ever had, right?” His grin falls. “Wait. Shit. You haven’t even had my dick.” With a shake of his head, he looks me in the eye and says, “Sir, let me explain something.” I nearly laugh at how serious he gets. “If you allow me to, how should I say this...gift you with my...gifts, then I can assure you it will enhance the pleasure when we’re together.”

“Stop,” I say with a chuckle, grabbing a napkin to wipe my mouth.

His smile grows as he watches me laugh, his eyes bright with glee. “Come on, Mr. Drakos. Let me make you feel good,” he says in a sultry voice that he might’ve intended to be playful, but stirs something inside me.

I clear my throat, attempting to keep things light as I stand up with my trash in hand. “Your ass always feels good. Good enough, anyway.” I wink, letting him know I’m teasing.

He gives me an unamused look before pushing his chair back and standing up. My pulse spikes as he rounds the table, coming up behind me.

Our height is nearly identical, and I feel the heat of his body at my back before the warmth of his hands seep through the material of my shirt as he grabs my waist, his breath on my neck.

His lips touch my skin, brushing across the goosebumped flesh until reaching my ear. With one hand gripping my hip, the other travels up my torso before journeying back down to run a palm over my crotch.

“I’d make sure you felt every ounce of pleasure possible,” he whispers before the tip of his tongue dances under my ear. “There would be nothing to worry about, except that you’d probably become addicted after having a taste of me. But I’ll happily be your supplier, baby.”

He sucks on a patch of skin, his hand groping my growing erection while his pushes into my ass.

I groan, dropping the plate and bottle of water on my desk, ready to spin around and do more. But my phone rings, the sound blaring through the room, killing the moment and drawing us apart. He steps to the side, watching me carefully. I want to throw myself against him. I want to toss him over my desk. I want to feel his skin against mine, and I’m even curious about his proposition. I want too much, especially when I know I won’t be able to keep it.

I pick up the cell. “Hello?”

Jay’s shoulders drop as he makes his way to the other side and gathers his trash.

“Oh. Calvin. How are you?”

Jay’s bulging eyes find mine, his lips parting as he realizes his dad is on the phone.