Chapter 9 - I'm not gay

Garber's POV

I couldn't believe he passed out right underneath me.

I twitched as I came inside him, and as much as I wanted to keep going or at least stay inside him, I needed to catch up on a lot of things.

So I turned down the music, cleaned him up, and then sneaked out the window the same way I came in.

Landing nimbly on my feet like a cat, I straightened up and looked around for any eyewitnesses before immediately tracing my way back through the secret corners and secluded areas of the streets. I took a long detour, stopping at a bar for an alibi and then taking two different taxis before landing back at the back door of the hotel I was in.

I pulled my cap down to cover my face better before making my way back to the VIP room I had escaped from.

Three girls lay asleep on the bed like logs, exhausted, no doubt from what I had done to them.

I'd used them to my heart's content, yet the satisfaction never came.

My dick never stopped raging until Luis calmed it.

But that was the last time because I could never be gay. The first time was because I was drunk, and the second time was because I needed confirmation.

But no matter how much I enjoyed it, I could never be the reason my children had to suffer humiliation and fear.

I climbed onto the bed and lay in the midst of the ladies whose names I couldn't remember because my mind was stuck on Luis until I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes, it was daylight, and I felt almost nauseated by the sounds that hit my ears.

Too feminine. Not dirty enough.

I was receiving a blow job.

"Good morning, papi. Do you like it?" The girl with the blonde wig asked as she slurped my length out of her mouth like a suction cup, but I couldn't get harder than my usual morning wood.

"Hmm," I grunted, but I really just wanted to bang and send them all out.

The other two were busy cupping my balls and sucking my feet.

The saliva, the moans that came out of her mouth as she slurped and sucked, didn't appeal to me.

They were such a turn-off that I had to force myself to fake an orgasm.

"We just pleasured you. It's time for you to take us like you did yesterday," the blonde said. But I was already off the bed, throwing on my clothes without an answer.

"I'm sorry, not today," I said, faking cheer in my voice as I told them how much I enjoyed the night. "There's a bag in the other room; the money is all yours," I said and watched their faces light up.

It's all they were after in the end.

The money.

The excitement they had around me was all fake. None of it was real.

But when I think back to all my encounters with girls, it's either for fame or for money.

Right now, as I watched the three of them squeal and run to the conjoined room, I couldn't help but feel disgusted.

So I left before they could return.

This time, I didn't need to be discreet, so I checked out and took the front door.

I didn't turn on my phone until I reached home because, there in the big, beautiful mansion standing tall in front of me, I always needed a distraction.

It was bad enough that I was the only teenager in it since my older sister, who is an archaeologist, rarely comes home.

"Welcome home, young master."

I was greeted by the house staff, who almost did a 90-degree bow, and I replied with curt nods and a sharp smile.

Once again, I was in a place where I was only being interacted with based on my status.

It was a realization I had come to hate, given how the reason I embraced it couldn't be embraced.

He was probably still lying on his bed, worn out from exhaustion but satisfied from yesterday.

I had made sure of that.

So yeah, the main reason I was loitering outside the door and turning on my phone was because I didn't want to go in.

My U-phone came to life, and I wasn't particularly excited about anything.

It would have been nice to doom-scroll for a long time and end up feeling guilty about the time I had lost.

But I didn't even get the chance to log into my alt account before I noticed the notifications flooding my phone to such an extent that I almost threw the device against the wall.

The anger in me erupted as I opened one and saw the cause of the buzz. Eventually, I slammed it against the ground.

"Young sir!" One of the maids nearby was terrified by my outburst. She ran, picked it up to check for damage, and then stretched her hand out to return it to me. 

It took me a minute of ragged breathing to eventually take the phone and turn it back on.

I'd rather deal with the devil inside than the fame-seekers dragging themselves all over social media.

The moment I pushed the door open, I wasn't surprised to see my mom acting cozy with a guy barely older than my twenty-four-year-old sister.

"Oh, baby, welcome home," she straightened up as soon as she saw me. She was even beaming, which I found strange for my mother, who was always in a sour mood.

Having a man that wasn't my dad cuddle her like that must have given her some dopamine to get excited on.

"Mom," I only looked her way and tried to sidestep her before she got to me.

I needed some quiet. I needed my room.

"Oh baby, don't try to ignore me. I am your mother, you listen to me!" Her sharp voice shot through the room from where she was standing in front of the TV, and I froze in my steps.

"Good boy," her voice softened as she chuckled, and this was one of those times I was convinced that my mother's extreme mood swings weren't normal.

She had to have bipolar disorder or something worse.