Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Ace huffed, throwing his arms up and almost knocking his root beer over. I quickly grabbed the glass and slid it back, shooting him a stern look, to which he shot me a sheepish smile. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he pouted. God, he was so fucking adorable.
“I know if you don’t stop being overdramatic, I’m going to bend you over my knee and spank you,” I warned him. “You almost knocked over your root beer.”
His eyes did that hazy thing they always did when I threatened a spanking, and I smirked. My boy was a slut for my palm on his backside. He gave no fucks who might hear either—clearly. He begged for a spanking every single night, even when the house was dead quiet and he knew Blakely and Jax would overhear.
“I dare you,” he tested.
I slid my chair back and patted my thigh. He froze, his breath hitching in his chest. Jax leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, amusement glimmering in his dark eyes. Blakely looked a mix between horrified and a little excited. I arched a brow at my boy when he continued to just sit in his chair, practically vibrating with nervous energy.
“Well?” I asked. “You dared me. So come on. Get over here and drape your pretty body over my lap, sweet boy.”
“Sweet my ass,” Jax muttered. I ignored him, though my boy, of course, rose to the bait.
“Oh, fuck you,” Ace snapped at him.
“Ace!” I barked, dragging his eyes back to me. “My lap. Now.”
That did the trick. He quickly got off his chair and walked over to me, laying his torso over my thighs. He gripped my pants in his fists, his body quivering as I dragged his sweats down just enough to reveal the curve of his backside.
“Papa…” he croaked.
I rubbed my palm over his soft skin. “Color?”
He shivered. “Green, Papa,” he said quietly.
I smacked my palm down on his ass, the crack loud in the otherwise silent room. Blakely gasped at the same time Ace did. I paid her no mind, my attention on my boy. I rubbed my palm over the sore spot, then smacked him again. He whimpered, thrusting his hardening length against my thigh, not even caring that Blakely and Jax could hear and see him.
After three more smacks, I sat him up, fixing his clothes before I tugged him onto my lap, peppering kisses to his cheeks. “Feel better?” I asked him, gently kneading the tender skin of his ass.
He nodded, his eyes all hazy and warm. “Yes, Papa.”
I scooted back toward the table and slid his bowl over to me, along with his soda. Scooping up a spoonful of stew, I held it to his lips. He obediently opened for me.
“You good, sweetheart?” Jax asked. I looked up to see him looking at Blakely, an intense, dark look shimmering in his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils were blown wide.
“I—” She cleared her throat, nodding at him as she licked her lips. “I’m okay,” she croaked.
He smirked at her, something dark and primal lingering in his gaze as he raked his eyes over her like a predator who’d finally caught sight of his prey. “I’ll give you yours later, sweetheart.” He reached out and pulled down her bottom lip, revealing the bottom row of her perfectly straight, white teeth. “Don’t you worry.”
I looked back at Ace, who was still lost in the little haze spankings put him in. I nuzzled his cheek before turning his head to softly kiss him. “You took your spanking so well. Papa’s proud of you.”
He beamed at me, then opened his mouth for another bite of food.
God, he was fucking everything, and I was the lucky son of a bitch who got to call him my boy.
EPILOGUE
Ace
Shaw’s heavy sigh brought me back to our conversation. “You’re sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked me.
I rolled my eyes before focusing back on my sexy as fuck Papa, who was wielding an axe and splitting firewood like it was as simple as breathing. My dick had been hard for the past fifteen minutes… which was about how long I’d been standing at the window watching him. Snow was falling and the ground was covered in the white slush, but he was out there in just a long-sleeve shirt and jeans as if it was just a brisk, fall day.
“I’m fine,” I told him for the umpteenth time since he’d called me five minutes ago. “Gunner has me seeing a therapist virtually. You should be checking on Jax. I swear, he’s turned into some kind of caveman. Did he tell you I almost broke my fucking neck in one of his dumb ass traps?” I’d gone into the woods yesterday for a walk. I had a walkie that Gunner sent with me. I wanted some time alone, which he understood, but he wanted to be able to keep in contact with me. I’d gone about fifty feet from the cabin and damn near broke my neck falling into one of the traps Jax had set “in case we had intruders”.