Page 63 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

“Now, what?” I ask, gripping his hand. “Tell me.” His eyes are locked on my neck, and I can tell there’s a quiet storm brewing in him. A hurricane about to touch land.

“Now,” he says quietly, “things have changed.”

“Good change, I hope?”

His eyes lift to meet mine. “The best change. I want you, Tatum. There are things I want to tell you. Dark things. The ones I haven’t shared with anyone. I do not open myself up to anyone, but you open me up without trying. Every time I see you, I want to—” He bites his lip, stopping the words from falling out by force. I’m taken aback by the neediness in his eyes. Someone else might call his clinginess a red flag, but the longer I see that look on his face, the closer I am to throwing a white flag of surrender. He wants me. He loves me. I hold the power to shape the future of his world, and it’s a level of responsibility no one should ever hold. Because Abi Kincaid’s world? That’s a world worth living in. It’s a world one flourishes in.

“Every time you see me, you want to ... what?” I finally ask.

He shakes his head. “I cannot say. I should not have said anything.”

I move even closer. “Tell me.”

“Each time I see you, I wish to fall to my knees.”

My eyebrows lift, because that’s not where I pictured this admission going, but that’s okay. “I mean, if you insist.”

“Not like that,” he says. “I wish to fall to my knees and beg you to stay. To let me keep you.” His eyes fall, and it’s only now I realize we’re no longer touching each other’s packages. His hands are resting on his thighs, and I’ve got my hands clasped around his, softly stroking the sides with my thumbs.

This moment—this one insignificant, unplanned moment of connection—makes every physical interaction I’ve ever experiencedpale in comparison. With one simple touch, Abdulov Kincaid has shifted my entire world. I didn’t even realize my world was off. I didn’t know I’d been living on shifting sand, always tilting left to right, the threat of collapse constantly looming overhead. Abi has steadied the tremors. He’s taken me on, endless faults and all, never pushing for more than I was willing to give. I want to provide that relief for him, too. To be his shelter in the storm.

“Please, may I keep you?” he whispers, the shame clear in his voice. There’s no shame here, though. Not with me. Doesn’t he know that by now?

I open my mouth to respond, but before any words make it out, we’re in motion. The wheels beneath the wooden cake squeak, and I hold on to him during the ride. It doesn’t take long. Maybe thirty seconds at most. When it stops, he slides the mask on my face.

“Go on, sweetheart. Let go and enjoy yourself. Then, when it’s over, let me enjoy you.”

I flash a quick smile. “Yeah. Okay, Abi.”

Outside, I hear a man’s voice playing through the sound system. He’s making some idiotic pun involving blowing out candles, but right now, I kind of want to blow out Abi’s again. The memory of his taste lingers, even days after the fact. I wonder if he’ll let me suck him off once we leave. If he’ll shoot in my mouth and let me keep it there for a while, just so I can taste him. I open my mouth to ask, but a hand reaches into the cake and pulls me out. I stumble during the ascent, almost toppling over the side and landing on my ass. Thankfully, Abi’s got a hand on said ass, holding me steady.

Once I’m out, my skin turns to gooseflesh, the hairs on my arms prickling as they stand on ends. Ahead of me, just past the edge of the stage, are fifty of my closest friends. “Friends” is probably an overstatement. Most of these men are just patrons from the bar who used to slide cash into the elastic band of myjockstrap while I stood on speaker boxes, shaking my ass for anyone who desired to watch.

With every eye on me, the music starts, and I roll my hips to the beat. It’s been ages since I’ve danced properly. Even longer since I’ve done so in front of a crowd. When I used to cover for Nito’s go-go boys when they called out sick, the sight of a crowd made my cock twitch and my blood run cold. It was like being bathed in both scalding and freezing water at the same time. Now, there’s no chill, only heat. Every eye is on me. Admiring. Adoring. Fucking me without fucking me.

I’m hard. I don’t know how long I’ve been erect, but it’s straining against the fabric of my jock, and when I look down, there’s a wet patch in the pink fabric. Everyone’s eyeing me, and as I eye them back, I can see the tightening of denim around several of their crotches.

Fuck, this has no right being as hot as it is. I have no desire to do anything with these men, but I do desire to do something to myself while they watch. There’s a small stool toward the end of the stage, and I make a mental note to collect it once my dance is done.

I twist and pop, shaking my ass to the sound of the music as their applause makes my dick twitch. When I dip, I know every inch of my crack is on display. My hole as well. There’s nothing hidden from them aside from my dick, and that won’t stay hidden much longer.

I try not to distinguish between the faces in the crowd, because that would make all of this real. If I were to see a childhood friend out there, eyes widening in shock as I slowly stroked myself to completion, it might pull me out of the moment. Or it could push me over the edge. Honestly, at this very moment, it’s a bit of a toss-up.

There’s sound behind me, then the crowd erupts again. When I look over my shoulder, Abi is climbing out of the wooden cake. Dry ice blows through vents in the wooden cake, sending out pink mistthat wraps around his feet. It’s honestly ridiculous, and he looks like a fool, but somehow the fool has stolen my heart. Said heart slams in my chest as he approaches, stopping when only inches separate us. He’s wearing no mask, so the whole room can see who he is. Can see the love he pours out from his eyes, right into me. His hand touches my cheek, soft and affectionate, and he trails a fingernail down my jaw, my neck, and then my chest. Abi stops when he reaches my jockstrap, and somehow, the room’s gone silent around us. Up here, on this stage, he’s all I see. He’s the only soul left in the world.

“May I remove this, my love?” he asks, his fingertip spilling over the waistband of my jockstrap. I’m ignoring the fact he’s essentially molesting me in front of everyone, and our friends will probably think he’s cheating on me now. That’s a battle we can wage another day.

All I can say is, “Please?”

His smile widens as he lowers himself to his knees, tugging my jockstrap down. My cock springs to life, flying out of the fabric and slapping his chin. It’s a bit painful because the son of a bitch hasn’t shaved in a few days, and I’m fairly confident my dick now has road rash. Again, that’s going to have to be a battle we fight another day, because his mouth opens and he takes the head between his lips, sucking softly.

“Jesus, Abi,” I moan, my head falling forward as my hips thrust. I’ve got one hand on my chest, but he takes my wrist and guides me lower until I’m holding my shaft. Our eyes are locked as he slowly pumps his hand over mine, getting my engines roaring to life. The longer he guides me, the more I want this. To come undone at his touch. To come in front of everyone, painting his face.

“Stroke it,” he commands, but his voice still has an affectionate tone, letting me know he’s here with me, and I’m not in this alone. With his back to the crowd, his massive body hides me away from their prying eyes. “Are you ready?”

I look down at him and give a goofy grin. “You’re not going to leave are you?”

He slowly rises from his knees to stand in front of me before kissing my lips. “I will never leave you. Not unless you ask me to ... and even then, there are no guarantees.”

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