Rich Kid (The SPARK Files #3)

Chapter 10

Wallace

Volt was a drug and Wallace was addicted.

Every evening he fought with himself. Should he drive home to his miserable, impersonal penthouse to wallow in loneliness or drive to Prism where he could be wickedly touched and adoringly cuddled by his Daddy?

It wouldn’t have even been a question, except that he was trying to not be too pathetic. Too needy.

Hell, the only reason he wasn’t living at Prism now was because, well, he still knew it was a fantasy. Mostly? Because Volt was a sex worker, and he paid him, but still… He was his Daddy?

God, it was so confusing.

Wallace had strictly limited himself to three visits a week.

And today was one of those days.

His car had found a parking spot across the street, and he was practically vibrating with excitement as it pulled up to the curb. His appointment wasn’t for an hour, but he’d had a successful presentation today that looked like it would lead to a very lucrative contract, and after that triumph, he just couldn’t focus on work. So he’d escaped early, feeling a little bit naughty and very free.

He’d texted his Daddy, just a quick little note that it had gone well. That wasn’t technically part of their deal, but Volt’s response had been immediate. I’m proud of you, baby boy.

Which was why Wallace was now sitting in his car, smiling like a fool, and scrolling through his text stream with Daddy. If he couldn’t visit Daddy yet, he could still relive all of their interactions.

The pictures were all mundane. Perfectly normal lunches from the corporate cafeteria, though Wallace had spent an inordinate amount of time making sure the lighting was right and that he’d chosen meals with the most colorful presentation. Then he’d savored every bite, blushing to himself while sitting at a table alone, knowing that he was doing what Daddy wanted him to do.

He’d taken pictures all over the Orbit campus, discovering walkways, gazebos, and flowerbeds that he hadn’t even realized existed until Daddy had given him the task of taking a walk each day.

Your lunch looks delicious, baby boy. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Good night, creampuff. Sleep well.

The pond looks peaceful. You’re such a good boy, taking care of yourself.

The words should have felt repetitive, but each one felt unique, sending a pulse of fluttering warmth through his chest. He read back through them every night before he went to sleep, and again in the morning on the drive to work.

The messages did what no mantra could ever accomplish. Instead of reciting I am confident. I am in charge, he went into work thinking, I’m Daddy’s creampuff. He’ll be so proud of me when I eat a healthy lunch.

It was silly when he thought about it in the abstract, but the praise he got for those photos meant more to him than any title, degree, or accomplishment in his life.

Work was still awful, Ben was still an ass, and his family was still evil. But for just a few moments a day, he felt like he could shine.

He was addicted. Enamored. Totally smitten, or at least closer to it than anything he’d felt in his life before.

Every time he closed his eyes, he just imagined Volt’s smile. That adoring emerald gaze. The husky warmth of his voice whispering naughty, sweet things. Those strong hands all over his body, teaching him delights he hadn’t even known were possible.

Technically, they hadn’t done anything more than Volt stroking him off each time and another round of spankings—for fun this time, and oh, fuck, had it lit up everything inside him—but it was the way Volt did it. The way he made Wallace feel small and adored and sexy.

The way he’d even coaxed Wallace out of his shirt last week, so that he finally stood in front of Volt in just his boxers, nervous about all of his unnecessary blubber… only to have Volt drop to his knees and suck him off, eyes wide with arousal while he moaned in pleasure.

Wallace wanted to wrap himself up in that feeling and carry it with him everywhere.

He wanted… He wanted to let Volt know how good that made him feel. To express his gratitude, maybe.

He wanted to communicate that Volt was special to him. Important. Treasured.

As treasured as Daddy made him feel.

It didn’t seem like any gesture or gift would be big enough to contain that feeling. When Wallace thought of Daddy, he was just… everything.

But how could he show that?

In a way that would be appropriate, of course.

That brought him up short.

They weren’t dating.

God, he fucking wished they were dating. Somehow, that seemed scarier than imagining Volt just magically living with him somehow.

Terrifying or not, Wallace would give anything to meet up with Volt for, well, maybe not a dinner or drinks since that wasn’t a thing with androids, but… a movie? A day at the beach? Hell, a routine trip to the grocery store with Daddy by his side would be heaven.

Could he pay Volt enough to do that with him? To maybe act like his boyfriend sometimes?

Wallace bit his lip.

Somehow that seemed even more pathetic than paying for sex.

He just had to remember that this was a financial transaction. Even when he’d fallen asleep in Volt’s arms, which was happening more and more often, he’d been charged for each of those hours, and the hours weren’t cheap.

A handful of texts that kept Wallace coming back for more were probably just a good business investment.

The clutching dread gripped Wallace’s chest, as it did every time he let his thoughts go down this path.

Volt might have dozens of boys getting texts just like this.

He might have an automated program that dashed off messages like this without even thinking about them.

But they felt so real.

Wallace scrolled back through some of his favorites. Sweet dreams, darling. Daddy’s thinking of you.

Was he really?

Another favorite, a picture Wallace had taken of a hidden pathway lined with trees blooming joyously in pinks and whites. The petals had fallen to the ground in a drift so thick that he’d had to kick through them. He’d even throw a handful up in the air and let them flutter down around him, before quickly checking that no one had seen. He’d written It’s snowing! in an uncharacteristic fit of fancy when he sent the photo.

Volt had written back. It looks magical. The pink reminds me of your adorable blush.

Just reading it was making him blush again.

That had to be real, right?

Which led to the question: was it appropriate to get a sex worker a gift?

Tips, he was sure, were appreciated. He would definitely have to tip more.

But now that he was thinking about it, he wanted a gift that would be meaningful. Treasured. Something that showed Volt how special he was.

Wallace pulled up a map on the car’s dashboard. The area around Prism was trendy, with little shops intermingled with the cute cafes and elegant restaurants. Surely, he could find something nearby.

But what?

He’d never gotten anyone a gift where he actually cared if they liked it.

He bought his father scotch. He gave his brother golf clubs. They gave him the same crap back and he immediately forgot about it. He sent his mother and his office assistant impersonal spa treatments and gift baskets, and then told his office assistant to figure out appropriate gifts for his relatives and employees at the appropriate times. Did they hate those things too?

Shit. He was terrible at this.

What would Volt like?

Wallace realized, with a growing horror, that he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about Volt. His hobbies. His past. His hopes and dreams. Or even stupid shit like his favorite color.

He couldn’t even get Volt some fancy booze because sparks usually couldn’t consume liquids and definitely didn’t respond to alcohol. And it wasn’t like he had skin care regimens.

What did Volt like? His favorite artists? Songs? Vacation spots?

Surely, he didn’t just like being Wallace’s Daddy.

If that wasn’t a ploy to get more money from him. Or, more generously, respecting that Volt was a paid Dominant doing his job to provide an attentive and high-quality service.

Fuck. The dichotomy was driving him insane.

Sometimes Volt felt like the most real thing in Wallace’s life, and sometimes it was all just artificial.

Wallace scrunched his eyes shut.

If his father knew he was sitting here in his car, sweating himself into a frenzy over what present to give a spark sex worker—a male spark sex worker—the disdain and shame would never end.

Wallace read through a few more texts, clutching his phone like a security blanket.

That looks tasty, baby boy. Savor it just for me.

I’m sorry you had a long day, sweetheart. Thank you for taking care of yourself and getting to bed on time.

Dammit, even if it was just for pay, it meant something. Volt wanted Wallace to take care of himself. To be happy. To share his dreams and fantasies.

And Wallace wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way. Especially not his father’s bullying.

He was going to do this, dammit.

He got out of the car and slammed the door. He was going to make this happen.

The map said there was a shop a block away with handmade gifts, a mix of artisan work and traditional crafts from around the world. There had to be something there.

He darted in, probably looking far too sneaky. It just felt like everyone would know that he was buying something for a man he was paying for the privilege of calling Daddy .

But the salesperson just gave him a nod and left him to browse.

The shop was nice, actually. There were some wall hangings that he might even like in his own home. They were painted on silk with patches of glitter, the abstract colors swooping like fairies in the wild.

He looked at them with longing. What would his father say? Were they too bright? Too whimsical?

He loved the sparkle of gold on green. The pinks drifting into blues like a star-dusted sunset. The burst of fuchsia that felt like magic taking flight.

He could throw out all of the meaningless grayscale landscapes he’d let his father’s interior decorator bully him into and install these instead.

His chest felt tight, but he decided that he wasn’t brave enough to change his apartment and find something for Volt at the same time.

So he kept browsing the shelves, turning over hand carved wooden figures that curved into his palms, brushing his fingers over woven tapestries.

He turned the corner and knew what he wanted the moment he saw it.

It was an abstract sculpture, maybe a foot and a half in height, a tangle of metal and glass, bright colors and burnished glows. Azure and copper, aquamarine and silver, vermilion and gold, all coming harmoniously together.

It was strong, yet gentle. Humanmade, but alive with warmth.

It reminded him of Volt.

Or maybe how Volt made him feel.

He’d never felt like he had a poetic bone in his body, but Volt was showing him so many new sides of himself.

He checked the price tag at the wooden base, and it was not cheap.

But what did he have all of this money for if not to spend it?

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d bought something just because it made him happy.

Maybe he never had.

God, that was a dismal thought.

No, he was going to think about how things were different now. How he got in a rush every time he bought lunch and sent a picture to Daddy.

That was who he wanted to be now.

Daddy’s boy.

He alerted the salesclerk and got it boxed up, paying extra for gift wrapping and making sure to get a gift receipt.

If—God forbid—Volt hated it, he could at least return it and keep the cash.

Wallace would die in a puddle of shame and probably never leave his apartment again, but at least Volt would have a choice.

Wallace picked up the gift bag, which was rather bulky and obnoxiously visible now that he thought about it, but what else was he supposed to do?

Prism was only a short walk, and by the time he realized that he still had half an hour before his appointment, it was too late. Angel was beckoning him in with what looked like a genuine smile on his perfect face.

Wallace came to a stop just inside the door. The little podium where Angel greeted people was the same as always. Was Wallace here too early, though? He didn’t want to wait in the lounge, where everyone could see him.

Inspect him.

Know what he was here for.

Shit. What if Volt was with someone else?

Wallace knew that it was his job, but knowing it could be happening right now…

His stomach churned.

“Good evening, Wallace. Would you like me to take that for you and keep it somewhere safe?”

That was Angel, who was just doing his job.

Wallace swallowed twice past the lump in his throat.

He definitely shouldn’t have bought the gift.

It was wrong.

Totally not the right thing to do.

“No, I, uh, I’d like to keep it with me,” he managed to say.

Angel gave him a beaming smile which was… encouraging? Good business? “No problem. I’ve just told Volt that you’re here. He’ll be down in a few minutes. Would you like to take a seat while you wait?”

Wallace nodded, kind of dazed. Angel’s too-gorgeous looks still left him a little flustered, and the relief that Volt was only a few minutes away—and not otherwise engaged—left him almost faint with relief.

“Here’s a cozy little nook,” Angel said with a wink as he led Wallace to an out-of-the way chair, half hidden behind a lush, green-striped plant and away from the rest of the crowd. It was exactly the seat he would have chosen for himself, and he marveled that Angel had figured him out so quickly. “Let one of the bots know if you’d like a drink.”

“Thank you,” Wallace said with a bit more confidence.

Angel’s eyes sparkled, and he smiled almost like they were sharing an inside joke. Wallace had no idea what it was, but he still felt warm with it.

The guys at Prism were way too good at this.

Angel sashayed away and Wallace slid the bag between his feet. After that, there was nothing to do but look around.

Before, he’d focused on the scenery. The plush couches and polished tables. The colorful cocktails in people’s hands. All the little understated touches that said: money.

Now he looked at the people. Many were dressed in business clothes, having just come from work. Others wore ripped jeans or athletic wear. He assumed most of it was designer—not that he knew enough to recognize it by name—but he knew affluence when he saw it.

He looked at the crowd differently today, wondering who the people were. They looked relaxed here. Kicking back after a long day. Chatting with friends. Casually eyeing the merchandise and lifting a lazy finger to beckon someone over.

A businessman, who’d been intently typing on his phone, looked up suddenly, pointed to a slender male in a loincloth and started walking toward the elevators without even confirming that the bot was following.

A trio of college guys, boisterously teasing each other, pointed at different models until they came to some sort of agreement. Two chose nearly identical female bots with stereotypical long, blond hair, barely contained cleavage, and tiny waists, while the third selected a metal and plastic bot with visible hinged joints and three waving pincer arms on each side, which somehow still managed to give an air of masculinity. Volt thought it might have been a dare, but the man seemed happy with his choice, still joking with his friends as they left the room.

A mousy little woman walked in the door and chatted quietly with Angel for a moment like they were old friends, cupping his larger hand in hers. She barely looked around the room before a muscular male and sultry female glided into place, one on each arm, and escorted her upstairs.

It was fascinating seeing all of these people here, in such different ways, and all without an ounce of shame.

How did they get that confidence? That freedom?

Wallace was still watching the room when something touched his shoulder, and he turned with an undignified squeak. “S-sorry,” he stuttered. Volt was somehow more gorgeous than he’d remembered.

Had Volt’s abs always been so ripped? His skin so smooth? His jaw so rugged and his eyes so deep and striking?

This was his sixth visit, and he still couldn’t quite believe that it was happening.

“You startled me,” Wallace added. God, how had he ever imagined that someone like Volt would actually be interested in someone like him ? It seemed surreal that they’d been intimate together. There was no way this god among men would care about the stupidity of his eating habits.

Volt was grinning, though, his eyes crinkled up in delight. “You know, before I met you, I was calling you little hamster in my head.”

Wallace shook his head. There were too many thoughts to process at once. “Before you…”

“I was watching you across the street. You were so timid, like a little hamster, but so bold at the same time.”

God, that was even more mortifying. Especially since… “Hamsters are fat.” There. He’d said it.

Volt manhandled Wallace out from behind the little table and pulled him close, one arm wrapped around his back and one tilting his chin up so their eyes met. “Hamsters are adorable and squishy and lovable. They’re built in exactly the right chubby little shape to snuggle and pet. And even when they’re rightfully cautious, they’re also brave. Just like you, baby boy.” Then he dropped a kiss to Wallace’s lips.

And now Wallace was swooning again.

Sex workers didn’t just give out nicknames, did they? And now he had two of them. It was silly—absolutely ridiculous—and he knew he should protest, except that he actually kind of loved it.

“Plus,” Volt added with a mischievous smile, “hamsters squeak.”

Wallace squeezed his eyes shut, even though he was laughing. Volt was laughing too, nuzzling against Wallace’s neck and dropping little kisses.

The truly embarrassing part wasn’t the nickname, but how much Wallace liked it. He felt like he was floating. “Is this a Daddy thing?” he asked.

Volt considered, still grinning. “I guess so. Now, are you going to be my good boy and come upstairs?”

Wallace nodded, happy to go along with anything Volt suggested, until he remembered the gift. And saw all the people who’d be able to watch him carry the bulky bag to the elevator.

For a moment he’d actually forgotten what this whole thing was about. Volt was acting like… his boyfriend or something. No one else traded kisses in the lobby. But was that just part of the Daddy service?

Should he give him the gift or not?

Wallace had read up a lot more about sex work—and Daddy kink—over the past few weeks. He knew now that some people visited sex workers just to be touched. Or listened to. They didn’t always even have sex.

There were also professional Dominants who would send texts just like the ones Wallace was getting. You could pay for that service even without the sex.

So was this just an emotional support service Volt was providing? Part of the experience he’d suggested to allow Wallace to explore a new kink?

It was all too confusing, especially when Volt’s wide hands were palming Wallace’s very ample middle like he couldn’t get enough.

Wallace finally picked up the bag—he couldn’t just leave it there—and allowed Volt to lead him down the hall.

Volt’s mouth descended on his in the elevator, devouring and licking and making him forget why he’d been worried. Strong hands pulled Wallace closer, encouraging him to rub himself against those acres of muscles, as if Volt had been thinking about him just as often as Wallace had thought about him in return.

Wallace faintly heard the doors chime, and then Volt was scooping under his legs and hoisting him up into his arms. Wallace clung to his shoulders, disoriented and elated, the bag thudding against Volt’s back—the spark couldn’t possibly mean to carry him down the hall, could he?—and let out another ridiculous squeak.

Volt chuckled against his neck. “I wonder how many more times I can get you to make that sound.”

Wallace didn’t answer, because Volt truly was carrying him down the hall, his pounding erection pressed against Volt’s firm abs, while Volt’s very noticeably hard cock rubbed against Wallace’s ass.

For a moment, Wallace let himself forget how ridiculous it must look, because it was hot as fuck. He felt lighter than air. Small and cute and adored.

He’d never felt that way.

He stroked Volt’s bare shoulders, eager to absorb every moment of the experience, reminding himself that he was allowed to , and daringly kissed along Volt’s neck.

His skin was satiny smooth over the thick pull of muscles beneath. Just faintly salty, like clean sweat, unless he was imagining that. Wallace wanted to lick him everywhere. Discover every plane and angle with his tongue. He’d barely had a taste, and he was addicted already.

“Mmmm…” Volt hummed in obvious pleasure, squeezing Wallace’s ass and somehow pulling him even closer.

Real or fake, the response made Wallace burst with pride. He was the one who’d made Volt, a being literally designed for sex, moan out loud.

“You’ve been so good for Daddy, baby,” Volt told him, flooding his body with warmth, before they’d even reached the room. “You’re definitely getting some rewards today.”

Wallace’s head spun as Volt maneuvered them through the door, still kissing him, then let him slide to the ground with delectable slowness. Wallace took a step back, more to regain his balance than anything else, but Volt used the opportunity to tug at his bowtie.

“These are so cute,” he commented, pulling the knot apart. “Makes me want to make a mess of you.”

God, how could he just keep saying things like that?

Volt went on to open Wallace’s collar and a few more buttons, then dove in to kiss and nip at his neck. “You like that, creampuff?”

“Ye… yes.” How was he even supposed to think when Volt was touching him? When Wallace could run his free hand over all of Daddy’s glorious muscles?

“I could leave a mark here,” Volt whispered. “No one else would know it was hiding under your clothes.”

Was that a question? It didn’t matter, because Wallace wanted it. “Please, Daddy!”

Volt sucked harder, pulling blood to the surface. Then he bit down, and Wallace’s eyes rolled back in his head.

Pain and pleasure and possession, all rolled into one. Volt was marking him. Claiming him.

Volt’s strong arms held him up, because otherwise he surely would have fallen. How was everything with Volt so good?

He hardly noticed it when Volt’s hand drifted down his arm, then brushed over the hand where he held the bag. “Shall we put this somewhere?” Volt asked.

Oh, right. The present.

Wallace clutched the handles instinctively and drew in a deep breath, shaking himself out of clouds of lust.

He made himself step back, still panting. Should he give it to Volt or not? What if he’d gotten it all wrong?

The knots started to return to his stomach, but Volt was just giving him that soft, supportive look while he figured himself out.

He drew in another shaky breath. What was he going to do with it, if he didn’t give it to Volt? Keep it in the back of his closet?

No, Daddy was trying to help him be a better person. To be more himself. He had to at least try. “It’s for you.”

Volt’s eyes widened. “For me, pet?”

Oh! That was another new nickname. Even through his nerves, he found himself starting to smile. He’d never had nicknames before, and now he had dozens of them. From Daddy .

“Yes, Daddy,” he made himself say, even though his cheeks were burning. “I got it for you.” Please like it. Please, please, please like it .

Please like me .

Volt gave him another look, which Wallace still couldn’t quite work out. Surprise? Concern? He was smiling but it wasn’t quite as warm as before.

“Should I open it now?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Better to get it over with.

Wallace could barely breathe as Volt set the bag on a small table and lifted the box from its nest of tissue paper, then carefully peeled back the tasteful stickers from the shop that held it closed.

While Volt revealed the sculpture, Wallace clutched his arms across his chest.

“Wallace, this is stunning.”

Wallace exhaled in a rush. Good. Volt liked it. But what did it mean that Daddy was calling him by his first name?

Volt drew the sculpture from the box and set it on the table, neatly settling the boxes underneath. He looked at it for a moment in the soft glow of the lamp, then he took Wallace into his arms.

“What made you think of this, creampuff?”

Oh, and now he was creampuff again. Everything was right in the world.

“Uh, I saw it and it, uh, reminded me of you.” No reason for Volt to know about all the stress that had been filling up his mind. They were together now. He had nothing to think about but Daddy. He tried to put all of his thoughts into words. “It feels joyful with all the colors, and it’s whimsical, like a dance, but strong at the same time.”

“I don’t even know how to describe it,” Volt told him, still looking at the statue. “It looks like dancing feels, maybe. And this is how you think of me?”

Wallace could feel himself blushing as he met Volt’s emerald green eyes. “Yeah, um, I, I hope you like it. And that it, uh, wasn’t inappropriate.”

“It’s… unexpected. Atypical.”

He’d known that.

“I’ve had patrons try to buy me very expensive things.”

Wallace nodded. This had definitely been expensive, and he wasn’t sure from Volt’s tone how he felt about that.

“Sometimes I have to return them,” Volt continued, “if someone’s trying to buy something that’s not for sale. Sometimes I keep them, if they’re given in the right spirit.”

Well? Which one was it? Wallace needed to know.

“No one’s ever given me something so thoughtful. I love it, baby boy.”

Wallace’s heart started to beat again. This was good. Very good, even. The gift was special. Maybe even Wallace was special.

Volt kissed across his hair to whisper against his cheek. “A beautiful gift from a beautiful man.”

Wallace shook his head. There was no way that was true. He was sweaty and short and fat, and probably the color of a lobster under his scruffy beard. But when Daddy said it, he felt beautiful.

“And I don’t know how you knew it, creampuff, but I enjoy dancing. It’s one of my favorite things.”

“You do?” Wallace pounced on the information, aching to learn more. “What kind of dancing?”

Volt’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure if it’s really a kind of dancing. I just… like to move.”

“Could I see?” Wallace asked eagerly, then backtracked when he saw Volt’s face. “I mean, if that’s not crossing any lines. I mean, of course it is. Sorry. Forget I said anything.” Now he knew he’d fucked it all up. “Do you want me to leave?”

There was a long pause, and Wallace tried to extricate himself from Volt’s embrace. Of course he’d fucked it up. Even when he was paying for sex, he couldn’t get it right.

He almost pushed away when Volt pulled him close. “You really want that, baby boy? I mean, it’s not like… it’s not sexy. It’s just me moving around a room. You probably wouldn’t like it.”

Wow. Was Volt nervous?

He totally was.

Somehow, that made Wallace feel bolder. “I’d love to see you, Daddy. It doesn’t have to be sexy. I just want to see you do something you love.” Was that too much? Too mushy? Too real?

It was probably all of those things.

And Wallace had probably said it wrong, too. He wasn’t exactly a pep talk person. He wasn’t good with people.

“Sweetheart, I’m…” Volt paused and put a hand over Wallace’s chest. “I’m honored. But are you sure that’s what you want to do? I could think of a few other things you might enjoy.” Volt went from sincere to seductive in an instant, running his hand down Wallace’s chest.

Wallace was very interested in where that hand might go next, but this was more important. “I’m sure,” he said. Then, feeling daring, he looked upward with his best attempt at being at least a little cute. “Please, Daddy?”

Volt shook his head, but he was smiling. “That look. Alright, creampuff. But don’t set your expectations too high. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Nervous Daddy was back, and it was adorable beyond belief.

It was like Wallace had drawn back some kind of curtain, and now he could sneak a peek at the real Volt. “That’s okay, Daddy,” he said, smiling broadly. “It doesn’t matter because it’s you.