Page 89 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
I munched on another bite of pizza—it really was amazing—as we all waited for Anson to spill. When he didn’t, Nate filled us in, as we all knew he would.
“So for those of you who didn’t make it through ’til closing”—he winked at me, and I fought a blush—“the final demonstration was actually Henry and this guy named Carter, I think. Haven’t seen him before. He was definitely a sub, though he had to be almost thirty.”
At Nate’s questioning glance, Anson shrugged then took another polite bite of pizza, chewing primly.
“Okay, so thirty-ish. Anyway, they did this whole scene where Carter got into heavy subspace with sensory deprivation and some pain play. I mean,damn.” Nate fanned himself with a meaty hand. “Carter was whimpering and moaning louder each time Henry took something away from him. By the end, he was handcuffed to the bench, blindfolded, ears plugged, with his balls in a vise as Henry dropped hot wax across his torso, even his dick and swollen balls.”
I clenched my thighs together instinctively. That kind of pain was too intense for me.
Nate took a huge bite of pizza and opened his mouth to continue with it half full, earning a glare from Anson. He quicklyswallowed before starting again. “Anyway, the CBT part was super hot. Even Anson thought so.” I heard another growl come from the couch. “And you could tell Carter was super into it. Henry, not so much, I think.”
Ethan tilted his head from the far side of the couch. “Why do you say that?”
Nate shrugged. “Just a hunch. He put on a good show, but still. He’s such a gentle dude, maybe even a Daddy—I don’t think he’s into the really intense stuff. I got the sense he was just giving Carter what he needed, not that he was getting off on it himself.”
I nodded. “That tracks. He’s looking for a boy to spoil, from what I can tell.”
Tristan cleared his throat, his empty plate abandoned in favor of absently petting Prickles’s fur. “What makes you say that?”
I shrugged, frowning, then repeated Nate’s words. “Just a hunch.”
Anson jumped in. “You may be right.”
I smiled, picking up a carrot stick and dousing it in ranch dressing. “But regardless, I don’t think he’ll have any trouble finding that special boy, if he wants one. That man is the definition of a silver fox. Seriously—Google ‘silver fox’ and see if his picture doesn’t come up.” I shivered dramatically. “Plus, I hear the man is . . . um, well-endowed.”
Nate nodded. “I can confirm that. His leather pants were tight last night, and I could see everything from where I was sitting. He may not have gotten off on the pain, but he was turned on by something. Andfuck, that dude’s dick is porn-star-award worthy.”
Anson stared at Nate as he talked, his soft brown eyes full of longing, but I don’t think anyone noticed but me. He might not have even realized he was doing it himself. When would those two see what was right in front of them?
Ethan cleared his throat, pushing to his feet and collecting the empty plates, which was just mine and his at the moment. “You boys finish your food; I can help Cameron clean up.”
I pushed to my feet, relieved for the break from sitting—though the pain in my ass was already lessening—and followed him into the kitchen.
He opened the dishwasher and started rinsing the plates in the sink as I stood by. “Thanks for having us over uninvited.”
I smiled, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter on the other side of the dishwasher. “You brought food—what can I say?”
Ethan smiled back. “Tristan says he brings you food often.”
I nodded, pulling my arms a little tighter around me.
He must’ve noticed because he held up a wet hand between us. “I mean no offense. I just worry about my boys.” He’d taken to calling all of us in the club—even the Daddies, who didn’t seem to mind—his “boys.” He was barely older than I was, but he’d taken on a patriarchal role in our little found family.
I let my shoulders relax a little. “I appreciate that. Yes, Tristan does have to feed me at times. He’s promised to keep me alive until I find my forever Daddy.”
He cocked an eyebrow as he loaded the last plate in the dishwasher and closed it, reaching for the towel hanging from the fridge’s handle and drying his hands off. “And have you?”
Biting my lip, I considered his question more seriously than I probably needed to. I was still working all that out myself. “Maybe? I hope so. I . . .” I trailed off, unsure of how much I wanted to divulge.
Ethan leaned against the counter with his now-dry hands in the pockets of his jeans, silently waiting for me to decide.
“Okay, so I met someone online.” His other eyebrow raised but he didn’t say anything. “We emailed back and forth for a while before he suggested we move to your app.”
He grinned. I knew he loved to play matchmaker—that’s why the app was such a great idea and a perfect fit for him.
“I figured out pretty quickly that he’s a Daddy. Well, he said he thought he was, so we agreed to do an online Daddy/boy thing, mostly anonymously, for a while. That would give him time to feel it out, see if it was for him, and give us time to get to know each other.”
“Hmm,” Ethan hummed, but I kept going before he could say anything else.
