Dear Daddy, Please Spank Me - Chara Croft Page 0,56
clothes that hugged him like an invitation. So whatever had happened to set him off, it had been after he’d already gotten himself ready for me.
“Tell me, baby,” I said, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist and stroking his neck. “Tell me what happened.”
“What, you don’t even care if I swear now?” he asked, his pulse fluttering so fast it was almost a blur. “That’s it, huh? All your stupid 'language' reminders and I show up late one time, and now it doesn’t even matter?”
I smiled. “It matters, but we’ll get to that later. Now tell me what happened.”
“It was nothing,” he muttered. “Just… you know, the usual shit.”
“And what’s ‘the usual shit’?”
“I meant to bring your coat back,” he said, looking away. “But fucking Paolo was just… he was on me, you know, and—”
“Your roommate?” I interrupted, my whole body tensing up as I grabbed his chin and made him look at me again. “Is he abusive, baby?”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “What? No.”
Oh God. Thank God. I… didn't know what I would have done if he’d said yes. It wasn’t like I was a fighter. But for Jordan? Jesus. I didn’t give a shit if it was too intense—or more like flat out ridiculous, given that Jordan could probably hold his own in a fight better than I could—I’d still kill anyone who hurt him.
“Okay,” I said, leaning my forehead against his as I tried to get a grip. “Okay.” I forced out a slow breath, then wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and straightened up. “Tell me, baby.”
Jordan swallowed. “Nothing much to tell,” he said, shifting nervously and then reaching up to play with one of his earrings, tugging on his left ear just like he used to back in high school, every time he’d been nervous. He shrugged. “I’m just a fuck up and Paolo likes to point it out is all. It’s whatever. He just, our lease is up and he, uh. It’s nothing. He’s got this thing happening for Christmas. I mean, for Christmas Eve. Like, of course he doesn’t want me there. And then I ran out of gas on the way over. I mean, almost. I had to stop to fill up because my gas light was on and, just, you know what? It doesn’t fucking matter, Andy. How about we just fuck? Are you not a top? Not interested in my ass? What’s up with that? Are we hooking up or what? Why do you even keep having me come over if we’re never going to fuck?”
He pushed me away, slammed his hands into my chest and backed a step up himself when I failed to move... but not that hard. Not that far. Just enough that he could glare up at me again and wait to see what I’d do about it. And it was such an open dare to do something about it that I couldn’t help grinning. Probably a post-adrenaline reaction on my part, but God, he was gorgeous. He was needy and scared to admit it. He was trying to provoke me into showing I cared. He was everything I wanted. Everything I'd ever want.
“Sounds like you had a bad day, sweetheart,” I said, taking his hand again.
I laced our fingers together and he clung on like a vise, practically crushing my hand as he kept glaring at me.
Then, when I refused to back down, the glare turned into an angry pout, and the angry pout into a smirk.
“Well, the day would get a fuckton better if you’d stick your dick in my ass,” he said, reaching for my cock with his free hand and rubbing it into thickness through my pants. “Come on, Daddy, you know you want to fuck me.” He moved in closer, his voice dropping to a husky invitation that made me groan. “You thought my mouth was good? Wait until you get this thing—” he squeezed my cock, “—buried in my hot little hole. Been waiting for you. Fucking dreaming about it. Want to feel you split me open, Daddy. Want—”
I grabbed his hand and pulled it off my cock, not sure I could think straight if he kept touching me.
“Oh, I get it,” Jordan smirked. “We’re playing Daddy’s in charge again? I’m down with that. Whatever you want, Andy. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“I know you will, sweetheart,” I said, trying to ignore how hard I was. I would