Page 8 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. “I was scared. Scared you didn’t feel the same way. Scared you’d tell my mom and dad.”

His hand grips mine. “I would never betray your trust like that, Dare. Especially with something like this. I know your father, and I know he’s a monster. Do you think I’d do something to put your safety at risk?” He pulls me closer. “At least I know now.”

“Yeah,” I say, laughing bitterly. “You know now, but you won’t remember it tomorrow.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You sound sad. Please don’t be sad.” His lips press firmly on my cheek like he’s trying to seal his plea with a kiss. “I don’t ever want to see you upset.”

I shake my head, not wanting to fall into a troubled headspace. The time I have with Miles each night is the best part of my day, and I won’t waste it feeling sorry for myself.

“Will you read to me?” I ask, resting my head on his chest. He reads to me every night, proudly narrating his books, telling the stories with pride and passion and so much heart.

Miles reaches over my side of the bed, and I don’t miss the sharp intake of breath when his half-hard cock drags across my stomach, shielded only by his underwear. He rolls his hips forward, seeking friction, but I place my hand on his arm and shake my head. He closes his eyes and sighs before grabbing the book and returning to his original position in bed, right next to me. I lean against him like a pillow and wrap an arm around his waist.

We’ve been making our way through his backlog, devouring six of his books in only a few months. The one he’s reading now is his latest release. It’s about a pastor who falls in love with a member of his church. The story is about a man and woman, but he’s mucked up a few pronouns along the way, and he must have missed them during his editing stage. Whether that was a simple slip of the keystroke or if he’s subconsciously writing gayromance, I’m not entirely sure. The man and woman, Charlie and Kelly, have gone on several pastor/parishioner outings, helping to feed the homeless, rescuing wayward kittens stuck in tall trees. They’re a true tour de force when they’re together, and it makes my heart long for something I don’t know that I’ll ever get. A happy life with my precious pastor.

Catching me by surprise, Miles weaves a scene where Charlie and Kelly are protesting a Lady Gaga concert. He looks up from the book and scowls at me.

“What?” I ask.

“As much as I dislike your father, I can’t say I disagree with his dislike for her. She’s filled with demons, Dare, and you’re wearing a shirt with her likeness. One of those demons could latch onto you. It could infect you with its filth.” Suddenly, he whirls me around until I’m resting on his lap. “Those demons will drag you straight to Hell. You’d be on the other side of eternity without me. Is that what you want? To spend forever without me?”

I don’t have the heart to tell him I no longer believe in eternity, so I simply shake my head. “No, Daddy.”

He guides my head to his chest and runs his fingers through my hair. “Good boy. I’ll buy you a different shirt to make up for it. Something that isn’t so sinful. I can get you a picture with someone Christlike on it.”

I roll my eyes, but my face is buried in his chest, so it’s not like he can see. “But I’m a Little Monster, Daddy. Gaga is my queen.”

“That sounds a lot like idolization, Dare. You know what the Bible says about false idols. God won’t be mocked.”

“It makes me feel more like myself. It makes me feel like the man I was when I was away at school.”

“You were living in sin.”

I pull away from him and arch a brow. “Do you really want to talk about sin right now? Because I’m pretty sure yourcock is about an inch away from penetrating me through your underwear.”

He grinds against me. “Is not.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groan.

A growl rattles in his throat, and then the motherfucker spanks me, making me cry out in surprise. It doesn’t hurt, but I wasn’t expecting it. As he holds one hand over my mouth, he uses the other to caress the place he just spanked me. “Watch your dirty mouth. You’re getting really lax with your language lately. I let thehellsanddamnsslide, but I will not abide the f-word. And don’t scream, you’ll wake . . .” He winces like the realization of what we’re doing is finally settling in. Though Miles hasn’t fucked me in weeks, hehasfucked me before, and I guess that makes him a cheater. It’s probably something he worries about—breaking his wife’s heart—but I can’t find one iota of a fuck to give about Mal. Hate her. Hate her forever.

I cup his cheek. “I’ll be quiet as a church mouse,” I promise. “You surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to be spanked.”

He looks down at where his hand is resting on my hip, the tips of his fingers touching my cheek through my shorts. “I’m not going to apologize for spanking you—because that word is filthy, and it doesn’t belong in your mouth—but I’m sorry for startling you. I’ll warn you next time.” He blinks slowly, like he might fall asleep soon. “What were we talking about?”

“You said you were going to buy me a shirt with someone Christlike on it to make up for the one my dad made me bury. Please, don’t.”

“Christlike,” he repeats. “Candace Cameron Bure.”

“Huh?”

“Television’s Candace Cameron Bure.”

“Oh, hell no.” I blurt, only to squeak when he pops my thigh again. “What the hell was that for, Miles?” I hiss.

“You saidhell.”

“You said you were overlookinghellanddamn.”

---