Page 17 of Screw Me Daddy

I feel irritated and like I could do with a good session on my personal trainer’s heavy-duty punch bag. But with my trainer being away on vacation for the next two weeks, I know that there’s no realistic option for that any time soon.

No, if I’m going to break out of this mood I’m going to need to lift my focus my attention in another way.

And then it hits me – after the issue with Xander making the adjustment on the house plan without my permission, I decidethat what Xander needs is a nice long list of specific instructions for the build.

I open my laptop and begin typing a series of very clear instructions for a variety of specific details relating to the build. I’m not the kind of guy to leave anything to chance, and Xander needs to understand that in the clearest terms possible.

Oh, and if Xander is still in any doubt about my intentions, then the final line of my email should make things very clear indeed…

Failure to meet these instructions will lead to severe punishment – the type of punishment that I will administer at my discretion, and you will receive without complaint. I hope this is understood, boy. Yours, Daddy.

I smile and send the email over to Xander. It might have been presumptuous to sign my name off as Daddy, but instinctively it feels like the right thing to do.

In fact, something tells me that Xander is going to enjoy reading the last lines of the email far more than what comes before.

And speaking of enjoyment, it’s time for me to hit the shower and soothe my body under the hot water with thoughts of Xander’s hunky body, handsome face, and perfect baby boy booty…

Chapter 7

Xander

The early morning clouds didn’t exactly put me in a great mood. I love working outdoors, but if I wake up and see that the sky is full of ominously grey clouds then I often think the worst.

Working in construction, there’s nothing worse than a rainy day.

Wet equipment, wet work surfaces, and soaking wet clothes aren’t exactly conducive to a long, hard day of manual labor.

And given the fact that Reece sent me a long email detailing all his highly specific demands last night, the last thing I want to attempt is sticking to all the many instructions in work conditions that resemble a tropical monsoon.

But…

I’ve been on site with the other Blue Collar Boys for nearly three hours now and slowly but surely those dark, thick clouds are making way for a far more welcoming blue sky.

Instead of rain, we’re looking at another day of sun – and none of us are complaining!

‘Yo, Xander, how is the steel delivery doing?’ Lane calls out, looking jacked in his white vest and blue work pants.

‘Should be here in an hour, maybe forty minutes,’ I reply, putting my heavy duty mallet down and taking a moment to soak in the sun’s rays. ‘Fingers crossed, but I think we can check off a lot of the week’s work today.’

‘Right, and hopefully we don’t cop any shit from Bellham either,’ River grumbles, his shoulder length blonde hair tied back and his tanned torso on full display.

‘Something tells me Reece Bellham will have plenty to say no matter what we do,’ Jason says, putting down his hammer and taking a long drink from his water bottle. ‘Another millionaire client with a million demands that all must be met. Right, guys?’

I look around and see the rest of the crew chuckling in agreement.

I mean, don’t get me wrong – Jason makes a good point. We’ve had many projects that have involved rich people, and it does seem like the richer the client the more demanding they become.

But this time it’s different.

This time I think I’ve got some pretty real feelings for the rich client.

Of course, the guys know that something’s going on between me and Reece, and I’m pretty sure that both Jason and River are doing their best to get a rise out of me with their comments.

Part of me thinks I should laugh along with them and not give the guys any reason to tease me. But I feel a protective overReece too – he might be as dominant a Daddy Dom as I’ve met, but this is my kingdom and I want to protect my Daddy…

‘You know, if he wasn’t so demanding, Reece would never have made it to the top of the soccer world,’ I say, immediately cringing as I realize how much of a fanboy I sound like. ‘But whatever. You guys just keep roasting him. See if I care.’

I’m making things a million times worse, and the sound of my friends laughing makes this even clearer to me. I couldn’t help but step in and try to defend Reece. I know from personal – andpainful– experience how controlling he can be over the details of his project, but I actually kinda like it.

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