“Bored as shit” wasn’t even close to how I felt. Jesus, I had more to do here than I had since I was a child with a room full of toys. But at least back then, my parents knew to give me shit that I could do with my hands.
Sure, I had holovision channels galore to watch any show I could ever dream of, including reruns of shit from way back in the nineteen hundreds and early two-thousands. I had video games out the ass. There were shelves upon shelves of books to read, not only in my room, but Casersis had a full fucking library on the second floor. Now that I lived with Casersis, I had tons of warm clothes so I could go outside. And if Beth tried to teach me how to knit one more time, I would lose my entire mind.
Everything I had around me, though, couldn’t come close to holding my attention for long. I couldn’t sit still long enough to watch a half-hour program, let alone a movie, or read a book. Playing a video game held my attention for maybe twenty minutes before my skin started itching for me to move. Beth kept hounding me to try knitting because it was something to do with my hands. But even after explaining ten different ways that knitting still had me sitting on my ass and thus wasn’t an activity I was inclined to care about, she still didn’t get it.
I was so fucking done.
At first, I had started cleaning. Yeah, Casersis had staff to do that shit, but I was bored, so I rooted through every cabinet, cupboard, and hidden door in the entire estate until I came upon some furniture polish and a ratty rag that looked like it had seen better days and wouldn’t be missed. The estate had a ton of wooden furniture in it, and it could always use a fresh polish, right?
Right.
But when I started on the east parlor’s furniture, I had six maids on my ass. They swarmed me like a hive of frustrated, confused bees. They weren’t angry per se, but they weren’t happy, either. They bustled around, their mouths working, hands fluttering until one lady finally found her voice, “Master Dustin, what… what are you doing?”
I didn’t even bother looking up from the coffee table I was buffing. “Polishing the wooden furniture. What? Do I have the wrong furniture polish?”
Her hands fluttered again, reminding me of anxious birds. “N—no, but… But you shouldn’t be worrying about such menial tasks!”
“I’m bored,” I admitted. I still didn’t bother looking up at her as I moved to another spot to apply the polish and buff out tiny scratches in the wood finish. “Needed something to do with my hands.”
“But surely there is something more interesting for you to do!” Her anxiety must have been rising because the poor girl’s voice had almost gone into the range only dogs could hear.
I finally looked up at her, and when I met her gaze, the poor thing flinched. Sighing, I sat back, resting against the settee. “You’re not going to get into trouble for letting me polish some wood. I’d kick Casersis’s ass if he scolded you girls for that. You know that, right?”
The girl paled and shrank back from me. Was I that scary? Sighing, I dropped my head until it thudded against the coffee table I’d been polishing. “I wouldn’t actually hit him, you know.”
One of the girls giggled. It was a start. Sitting back up, I glanced around. This room had yellow everything—yellow upholstery, yellow curtains, yellow vases. It was like the sun vomited in this room, and I was starting to hate it already. No wonder Casersis liked the north parlor. Everything was in shades of green and brown—earth tones—warm, welcoming colors that weren’t eye-bleed blinding.
“Master Dustin… please,” one of the other girls said, breaking me out of my thoughts, “these tasks are beneath you. Master Casersis would be cross.”
Cross. Were these girls for real? He’d be cross. And why did they keep calling me master?
“He can’t be cross with you because that would be stupid, and I wouldn’t let him.” I picked the rag up and started polishing out my forehead print. Stupid face creating stupid forehead prints. “He can’t be cross with me because he doesn’t know how.”
After ten more minutes of that kind of back and forth, I finally let the girls chase me out of the room, but I wasn’t done yet. I promised not to polish any more wood. I didn’t promise to stop cleaning. So, instead, I went to the second floor and started dusting the bookshelves in the library, complete with removing all the books from a shelf before cleaning.
It didn’t surprise me one bit when a group of men came and chased me out of that room. Again, undeterred, I went to another parlor and started cleaning these weird, expensive-looking vases. They looked like they were worth more than my entire life, mostly because they seemed older than Moses.
And I nearly dropped one when a hive of more confused, frustrated staff came to chase me away. I swear, it was like they enjoyed their jobs or something because if I had to keep a place like this clean every day, I damn sure wouldn’t mind someone helping out.
But then I thought about my job at Nichol’s Construction and wrinkled my nose as I meandered through the hallways. I loved my job, and if someone came in and fucked up my hard work, I’d be more than pissed. Could I blame these people for chasing me away from their hard work? Not really.
Since they wouldn’t let me clean, I headed for the garage. I had to do something so I wouldn’t start climbing the fucking walls. It was getting ridiculous how much I wanted to find something constructive to do, and even more ridiculous how much I wished Casersis would come home so he could climb me like a tree.
Shit, I had it bad.
Just as I popped the hood on one of the cars in the nearly endless fleet in the garage, Kevin came to stand over me, glowering and grumbling, his arms crossed and his square jaw clenched. He looked a cross between a pissed-off bulldog and concerned brother. Part of me wanted to pet his platinum blond hair, or what little of it he had since he wore a military buzz cut, and the other wanted to shove him away and tell him to find his own fun.
Then I looked under the hood and sighed. It was just a tangle of wires.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Learning about cars, apparently. Though I can’t find the engine. Why? Got a job for me? I’m bored out of my mind, Kev. Either find me something to do or fuck off.”
“All of the mechanical shit is under the car,” Kevin said, sounding like he was at the frayed end of his patience. “You’d need to get under it to learn about the engines.” He hauled me back by the scruff of my neck and closed the hood with a soft thunk. “And there is no way in hell I’m letting you under a ton of metal.”
“Spoilsport.”
He snorted and shoved me back toward the house before I could get a look at any of the other cars in the gigantic garage. “Dad’s on his way back home. Get your ass back in the house before you give someone else a heart attack. The cleaning staff is going berserk because you were cleaning.”
Shit. At least the garage was warm. Walking between the buildings made me wish I’d brought a jacket with me, even though it was only a short walk. I sighed and shoved my hands into my pants’ pockets, and glanced over at Kevin. “Is that a crime?”
“No, but they are well aware that dad would have a fit if he knew you were—”
I glared at him. “If you tell me he’d have a fit if he knew I was doing something beneath me, I’m going to punch you.”
He gave me the side-eye and snorted. “Heard that already, have you?”
“I’m a construction worker. How is cleaning somehow beneath me?” I threw my hands up in frustration. “And why the fuck does everyone call me master?”
Kevin shrugged and opened the door for me. “You’re dad’s boyfriend. Which means you’re basically family. Which means you’re not supposed to be doing the menial shit.”
The glare I gave him this time made Kevin flinch. “Yet, you’re Cass’s head of security, and Beth is his chef and head of housekeeping. And I know both of you are his family.”
Kevin said nothing, and that just pissed me off more. We headed into Casersis’s parlor, and once I sat down, Kevin wandered off. I hadn’t expected him to. Frankly, it surprised the shit out of me. But the moment he left, I got up, headed into my room, and waited for ten minutes. Then, I headed back out into the house to find something to do.
Just when I was starting to rearrange the furniture in the south parlor—I had already moved the sofa and had a feng shui layout in mind—Casersis threw open the door. I swear, my heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of him. It didn’t.
Okay, maybe it did.
“Beauty… what are you doing?”
“Rearranging the furniture.”
“Why?”
“I’m bored to tears, Cass.” I sighed and flopped into the burgundy upholstered armchair that sat askew from the rest of the furniture. “There is nothing to do in this place. I’m going crazy.”
Casersis knelt in front of me, stroking my thighs, and God, I was hard in an instant. Seeing him on his knees in front of me did strange things to my already insane libido. “That’s a low blow, Cass. You’re playing dirty.”
The bastard gave me a sultry grin and rubbed my aching cock through my well-tailored trousers. “At least it would be a vigorous activity. It should ease your boredom, yes?”
I groaned, and I wasn’t proud of how my body betrayed me. My hips rolled, grinding into Casersis’s hand like a cat demanding to be petted. I felt like a slut, and for a moment, I forgot what I was mad about. Was I mad? …Hell, yes. But with his hand on my dick, it was hard to stay that way.
The whorish moan that slipped out broke my haze of lust. Mostly because it mortified me. This place was always crawling with staff, and I knew someone heard me, even if they were paid well enough to keep their mouths shut. Sure, Casersis didn’t care, but I did. The last thing I wanted was to never be able to look any of the staff in the eyes again. With that in mind, I pushed Casersis’s hand away and sat forward so he couldn’t get at his prize as easily.
“We need to talk, Cass.”
His expression shuttered, and I sighed. “It isn’t that bad. Jesus, stop acting like I’m about to kill your favorite puppy every time I say we need to talk.”
When that cold mask stayed in place, my blood started to boil. My boyfriend was shutting me out, and we weren’t even arguing yet. Yet. With his shutdown, it was highly likely that’s where our conversation was headed, and it pissed me off even more that I was aware of it and knew I was helpless to avoid that fucking train wreck.
Every time Casersis thought I was about to push him away, he would instantly shut me out. Yeah, I got it. His son did that to him during his exile. The thing is, I wasn’t his son. I’d already told him I would stick around because I loved his overemotional ass. And I did. I didn’t know why I did, but he’d somehow burrowed under my skin like a parasite, and I liked it.
But now, with him on his knees, blocking me from getting up so I could get some distance, some space to calm down, and with his emotions so tightly closed off that he seemed like a completely different person, all I wanted to do was scream. Not at him, but just… at the situation. The pressure got to be too much, and if I didn’t open the valve, I’d most likely end up validating his fears. And I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t that cruel. But damn, did he make it extra hard when he did this shit.
“Casersis.” He flinched at my hard tone and the use of his full name when I usually called him Cass. “Get your ass up and go sit on the sofa before you ruin your favorite pants.”
At least that got a reaction out of him. Casersis pursed his lips in a moue of disgust and glanced down at his knees with a sound that reminded me of a pissed-off cat’s sneeze mixed with an almost childish whine. The man hated messing up his clothes, and I wasn’t proud. I used that fact against him every chance I got. And once he was on the couch, I stood, crossed my arms over my chest, and looked down at him.
“Shutting me out is stupid, you know? It doesn’t work, and we both end up feeling like shit in the end. Quit it.”
Casersis sighed, and some light came back into his gorgeous blue eyes. He’d let go of his glamor some time ago, probably when he entered the parlor, and the tips of his pointed ears poked out through his hair. I reached out and caressed one, making Casersis shiver. “That’s better. Thank you.”
“What did you wish to speak with me about?” he asked in a breathy voice. I loved how such an innocent touch to his ears could turn him into a breathless cock slut, but I wasn’t going to use it against him this time. We really did need to talk.
“Things need to change.” To soften my words, I straddled his lap because I wasn’t really mad, just frustrated. “Either you need to find something constructive for me to do every day with my hands, or I need to be allowed to go back to my job at Nichol’s Construction. I’m bored, Cass. Even when you’re not at work, I’m bored to tears. When you’re at work, it’s a thousand times worse. I’m going insane and making everyone here insane right along with me. It isn’t fair to anyone.”
I rested my hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing against the knots I felt under his suit coat, probably wrinkling it beyond his tolerance levels. “I can only work out for so long. I can only sit on my ass and watch holovision for so long. I can only play games for so long.” I sighed and nuzzled against his cheek. “I’m used to hard, manual labor. I love it. I crave it. And I’m not getting it here. I need something, Cass.”
Casersis still hadn’t said anything after nearly an entire minute. He rested his forehead against my shoulder, let out a deep sigh, and squeezed my waist. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, half teasing. “Just fix it.”
