Page 27 of Problems

Jack staggered out of the bedroom as I flipped out slices of cinnamon French toast onto a plate. He rubbed his eyes only dressed in those tight little shorts. His bare chest boasted pierced nipples. I wanted to pop one after the other into my mouth and suck until he fell apart. Instead, I cleared my throat and cracked an egg into the pan.

"Sit down. I'm making breakfast," I told Jack. I glanced over my shoulder as he took a seat. "Once breakfast is done you have chores."

"What?" Jack muttered. "Chores? I've never done a chore in my life."

"You're going to learn," I said evenly. "Everyone needs to pull their weight here, not just us."

Jack pouted. "Come on, man. I've already done enough! I want to lay in bed and do nothing."

I froze before I slowly turned to face him. "Did I ask for your attitude?"

Jack's eyes cut away from mine. "No."

"Look at me."

As our eyes met, I almost walked toward him and dragged him over the island. He was as feisty as Cian. I stood in front of him.

"I said you're going to be cleaning today. Do you understand me?"

Jack tried to look away, but I snapped my fingers, dragging his attention toward me. "Don't make me ask again, boy."

"I- I understand," he muttered.

"You speak louder than that on a daily basis."

"I understand!" He snapped before he shrank away, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Shit, sorry."

Nodding, I moved over to the stove to complete the eggs while I hid the stupid grin that had decided to stretch my lips. Why was Jack freaking out so funny to me?

Focus. My job isn't to play with Jack. I'm supposed to be keeping him safe and setting him straight so he's not such a little brat.

I tried to remind myself of that and wiped the smile from my face. When I moved back to him, I sat his plate down and put syrup beside it. As I went in search of utensils, Ronan's voice made me glance over my shoulder.

"Do you want me to pour your syrup?" He asked.

"I can do it," Jack muttered.

"Are you sure? You don't like when your hands get sticky."

Jack groaned. "Da- Ronan, come on," he said. "Don't tell people that! They'll think I'm weak."

"There's nothing weak about needing a little help," Ronan said as he uncapped the syrup and started to pour. "Let me do it for you."

Jack sighed. "Fine," he muttered.

He slumped, but I saw the smile on his face. I'd always assumed he hated it when Ronan babied him, but from the look on his face, he loved it more than he let on. I laid a fork and knife on his plate. Ronan picked it up, cutting Jack's food into tiny bite sized squares. I raised a brow as I tried to ignore the jealousy that crawled through me. I didn’t want anyone else so close to Jack. He was mine to deal with, mine to mold.

"What?" Ronan asked. "He likes it."

I looked at Jack. "Is that true? Do you like it when Ronan cuts up your food?"

He fidgeted. "I don't know."

"Is that what... your friends, Daddy does for them?"

Jack's face went bright red. He'd brought up his friends having a Daddy the day before, but I hadn't gone into it at that moment. Not when I needed him to see the seriousness of what he'd done. Now that he wasn't brushing him off, I wanted to know.

"I don't know," Jack shrugged. "Not really I guess? They're different."

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