Infuriating - Onley James Page 0,7
nail, afraid to make eye contact with the larger man.
“You okay? You want some water or anything?” Jackson asked.
Day brushed his hair from his eyes, giving Jackson a haughty look. “No, thank you,” he said, voice sounding prim. “I’m fine.”
Jackson grunted, opening up the MacBook in front of him. His fingers were surprisingly nimble on the small keyboard, which sent Day’s mind drifting to what other things Jackson might do with those hands.
“Full name?”
“What?” Day blurted.
Jackson arched a brow. “Your full name. Can I have it?”
“Dayton Lee Daniels,” Day mumbled. He hated how hick his name sounded.
“Birthday?” Jackson asked, his deep voice stirring something in Day’s belly.
“December twenty-first, nineteen ninety-seven.”
“Address?”
Day hesitated before rattling off the address of his shabby efficiency apartment off of Wilcox. Jackson apparently had multiple apartments that he called home, one of which he’d be sharing with Day. Part of him thought the whole thing was stupid, while another was just the tiniest bit relieved that he wouldn’t panic every time he so much as heard a neighbor coming home at night.
Day jumped when the printer whirred to life. Pull it together, crazy. Jackson reached beneath his desk and pulled three pages from the printer and passed them across to Day. They were still warm to the touch. “What’s this?” Day asked.
“Just a standard contract. I’ve removed the compensation part since this is being done pro-bono, but I still need it for the files. Just look it over and sign the line on the third page.”
“Okay,” Day managed, trying to quell the sudden panic arching through his blood like lightning. He glanced down at the page, hands shaking as he pretended to peruse the contract, uncertain if he seemed to be reading too fast or too slow. Most of the words and sentences were as jumbled as hieroglyphics. He understood some words simply by sight, but most made little sense to him.
“You’re so stupid, Dayton.”
He shook the voice away, slowly looking through each page before finally signing on the bottom line with a mad squiggle that looked like it was done by a child. When he finished, he handed the pages back, tilting his chin up to look Jackson in the eyes. He refused to be ashamed. He might not be able to read, but he got by just fine.
“You might be the first person who ever read this contract,” Jackson said with a deep rumble of a laugh. “Most people just sign their lives away.”
“My life is mine, but for you, Daddy, the rest is definitely negotiable,” Day said with a wink.
Jackson stood, coming around to lean on the desk beside Day’s chair. “You can call me Jackson,” he said, a slight warning to his tone.
Day sat forward, pressing his elbow to the chair arm so he could prop his chin on his hand. “You’re no fun.” He pouted.
Jackson shoved his hands in the pockets of his track pants, bending at the waist so he was hovering close enough for Day to feel his breath. “I’m lots of fun, Hollywood. But a word of warning. Don’t call me Daddy unless you mean it.”
Day was positive his heart stopped, his dick hardening in his much too tight jeans. Before he could think of a comeback, Jackson was gone, walking to the copier, presumably to give Day a copy of their contract. What if Day did mean it? Fuck.
Day couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about anything but working. He needed to keep up his hustle if he eventually wanted to make enough money to get out of this industry and out of that town. He’d made a promise to Sarah, but this wasn’t what she would have wanted for him, and he just wasn’t talented enough to be famous for anything other than his body. Sarah had been the talent. Day had always been the sidekick. He’d give anything to be able to be Sarah’s sidekick once more.
Sadness overwhelmed him. He clicked his phone on, checking how many likes and comments he’d gotten on his Instagram story. He smiled when he noted that Wyatt had tagged himself and shared it to his Twitter. That was guaranteed to bring more people to his social media and his OnlyFans accounts.
Day spent the next several minutes losing himself to scrolling, not sure what else to do. Jackson had disappeared into the big conference room with all the other beefy looking security guys. Even Wyatt was in the room, sitting on a chair in the corner, legs criss crossed, as