Chapter 17
Miles
The hum of the Knox him leaning against a cherry-red sports car; him shaking hands with suited men I don’t recognize, all smug confidence.
My stomach twists as I take it in.
This is the real Kyle Knox—flashy, greedy, a man who loves the trappings of wealth. It’s like looking at the owners of Horizon Agro, the agribusiness that bullied my grandfather off his ranch, tearing apart his community for profit.
How did I miss this?
I’ve worked here for years, believed in Knox & Rain’s mission, but standing in this office, I see it clear as day: Knox is motivated by money, not justice. Just like the men who broke my grandfather’s heart.
I shake off the anger and get to work, my hands trembling as I rifle through his desk drawers.
Papers, pens, a monogrammed lighter—nothing useful at first.
Then, in a locked drawer I pry open with a paperclip, I find a notepad with scrawled names and numbers. “Rodrygo—10/2, 8 PM, The Vault.” “OV—transfer complete, 3M.”
Vague, but my gut says it’s tied to Obsidian Ventures and Victor Rodrygo, the cartel fixer Travis’s tracking. I snap a photo with my phone, my heart pounding, and keep digging.
Under a stack of contracts, there’s a flash drive, small and unmarked.
My breath catches.
This could be nothing—or everything.
I slip it into my pocket, the weight of it heavy with possibility, and close the drawer, careful to leave no trace.
I’m out of the office in under five minutes, my prop papers clutched to my chest as I slip back to my desk. No one looks twice, the office still humming along, oblivious. My pulse doesn’t slow until I’m back at my computer, pretending to type, the flash drive a secret burning against my thigh.
I don’t know what’s on it, but I know it’s big. And I know I need Travis.
By the end of the workday, my nerves are shot, but I’m buzzing with adrenaline.
I text Travis:
MILES: Done. Meet me at The Sugar Spoon? Need to talk.
His reply is instant…
TRAVIS: Be there in 20. I’ll trail and make sure no one is following you. Stay safe.
I grab my backpack and head across town, the city’s evening lights flickering to life. The Sugar Spoon’s pink and yellow sign is a beacon of comfort, and when I step inside, the familiar scent of sugar and coffee wraps around me.
Travis’s arrive just after me and we immediately hit a corner booth, his black jacket blending with the shadows, his eyes locking onto me the second we sit down.
I get comfy in the booth, my heart skipping at the sight of him—broad shoulders, sharp jaw, that Daddy intensity that makes me feel safe and unsteady all at once.
“Hey,” I say, taking my cherished Bean out of my bag and setting him on the table. “Got something.”
Travis’s eyebrow raises, but he doesn’t push, just orders us a shared milkshake—chocolate, extra whipped cream. We sip from the same glass, our straws bumping, and it’s so normal, so us, that for a moment, I forget the danger.
But the flash drive’s weight pulls me back.
“I went into Knox’s office, Daddy,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Found a notepad with names—Rodrygo, Obsidian Ventures, some meeting details. And this.”
I slide the flash drive across the table, my fingers brushing his.
Travis’s eyes darken, and he pockets it, his jaw tight.
“Good work, Little. That’s… big,” Travis says. “Daddy is very proud of you, but you took a hell of a risk.”
“I had to,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I’m in this with you.”
He nods, a flicker of pride in his eyes, but I can see the tension in him too—the weight of the mission, the cartel, the threat.
The milkshake’s soon gone, and the air between us feels heavy, charged.
“We need to let off some steam,” I say, my voice softer, a little daring. “One of the playrooms?”
Travis’s grin is slow, wicked.
“You read my mind, Little.”
We head to the back, where Logan, the co-owner, nods us toward a private playroom. The door closes behind us, the pastel walls and plush rugs a familiar comfort, but my pulse is racing, my body alive with anticipation.
Travis’s close, his presence overwhelming, and I know whatever happens next, it’s going to be intense.
“Do you know what funishment is, Miles?” Travis asks, a wicked look in his eye.
“I know that Jack and Logan do it…” I tease. “And it sounds totally awesome!”
I watch as Travis circles around me, slowly but surely removes all my clothes until I am totally naked—all the while he remains fully clothed.
“Naked. Vulnerable. Totally at your Daddy’s mercy,” Travis growls, the shape of his hard cock unmissable as it hardens inside his trousers. “Now walk over toward the edge of the cozy couch and bend that ass right over it.”
I do as I’m told without hesitation, my entire body tingling with excitement as I wonder what’s coming next.
“Stick that round bottom up in the air, part those cheeks and hold them wide open for Daddy,” Travis commands, his tone leaving me in no doubt that he’s in total control right now. “This will feel very cold indeed…”
I don’t dare turn as I hear Travis opening the small fridge in the corner of the room and then walk back toward me, my body totally on display and powerless to stop whatever is headed my way.
“Hold still,” Travis grunts, an ice cold squirt of lube onto my asshole making me gasp and giggle in nervous excitement. “Now for the fun part.”
I feel the butt plug press up against my lubed ass hole and let out a long moan as Travis eases it inside me. It’s thick, wide, and for a second I think it might be too wide for my tiny little hole.
“Daddy knows best,” Travis says, his hand on my lower back to keep me in place as my ass gradually stretches to allow the widest point of the pug to slide inside me and then sucks back into place to hold it there. “Good boy.”
Travis then hands me a small remote control… and I think I know where this is going.
“You press the red button to make it vibrate,” Travis says, mischief in his voice. “But you only get to press it every five spanks. Got it? And the more spanks we get up to, the longer you can let that bad-boy buzz and hum inside your tight little ass.”
“Daddy! This is wicked!” I say, my blushing profusely and yet at the same time feeling hornier than ever. “Please, start spanking!”
“A pleasure,” Travis laughs, and wastes no time in landing five rapid fire spanks, alternating between cheeks and then watching in delight as I press the red button to set the vibrator off. “Not too long. You only cum when I say. Understood?”
“Y-y-y-yes, Daddy,” I say my legs quivering as I turn the vibrations off and take another five spanks—hard and fast—to my rapidly reddening cheeks.
And so it goes on until I can’t resist any longer…
“Daddy, Daddy, I’m going to cum, I can’t stop myself,” I call out, pushing the red button as hard as I can and feeling my legs wobbling as an orgasm rushes up inside me.
“Leave it on, I’ll spank and you cum,” Travis roars, clearly enjoying every moment of this almost as much as I am.
And I do indeed cum. I totally lose control of myself as I buck and writhe against the couch, my entire body and mind set alive by a combination of my flaming hot butt cheeks and the turbo-charged vibrating plug lodged deep inside me.
“Fuck, fuck, I can’t stop,” I call out, so lost in the moment that I begin to think that my climax will never come to an end. “Daddy! Help me!”
Travis watches on for a moment as I wriggle and moan out louder, my orgasm truly finishing me off. And just like a perfect Daddy, Travis steps in at just the right moment to stop me from sliding off the edge of the couch.
“So… funishments, eh?” Travis says, cradling me in his arms. “I think that could be something we’ll be revisiting, don’t you?”
All I can do is nod and smile.
My eyes are wide and my whole being is in post-orgasmic bliss—and it’s all down to my devastatingly handsome, dominant Daddy.
After an intense day in the office, this was just what I needed.
But now? Now I need to go back home with my Daddy and try to get my body and brain working again…
The city’s nighttime glow spills through Travis’s apartment windows, casting a soft shimmer across the hardwood as we stumble in, still buzzing—not literally, thankfully!— from the playroom at The Sugar Spoon.
My backpack’s slung over my shoulder, and the flash drive in my pocket still feels like a lead weight, heavy with secrets about Knox and Obsidian Ventures.
But right now, with Travis’s hand brushing mine, his Daddy presence warm and steady, the weight of the day feels lighter. But I’m super tired.
Travis seems to sense it, his eyes flicking to me as he tosses his keys on the counter.
“How about a bath, Little?” he says, his voice low, that Daddy growl softened by a playful edge. “You’ve had a big day. Let’s wash it off.”
My heart skips, a giggle bubbling up.
“A bath? With you?” I ask, my cheeks flushing at the thought.
It’s intimate, different from the playroom’s heat, but the idea of being close to him, surrounded by warmth, makes my whole body tingle.
Travis grins, that rare, boyish smile that makes my knees weak.
“Yeah, of course with me. Who else? Channing Tatum?” Travis chuckles. “Come on.”
Travis leads me to the bathroom, the same sleek space where I caught him stepping out of the shower days ago. He pours in bubble bath—lavender and vanilla—and tosses in a handful of rubber ducks and toy boats from a basket under the sink.
The sight of them, bobbing in the growing sea of bubbles, makes me laugh, my Little side sparkling to life.
“Get comfy,” Travis says, nodding at my clothes.
I slip out of my jeans and shirt and he does the same, stripping down to his boxers. His body—broad, muscled, all hard lines and quiet strength—makes my breath catch, but it’s the way he looks at me, soft and protective, that has my heart racing.
Soon enough we’re both naked and ready to relax.
We climb into the tub, the water warm and enveloping, bubbles piling high around us. I sink in, a rubber duck bumping my knee, and Travis settles across from me, his legs brushing mine under the water.
We start playing, splashing water at each other, my giggles echoing off the tiles. I grab a toy boat, making it “sail” through the bubbles, and Travis counters with a duck, quacking dramatically as he chases my boat.
“You’re gonna lose, Little,” Travis teases, flicking water at me.
“No way, Daddy!” I fire back, splashing him hard, bubbles flying. The word slips out so naturally—Daddy—and it feels right, like it’s always been his name.
Travis pauses, his eyes softening, and I seize the moment, my heart pounding.
“Travis… can I call you Daddy whenever I want now?” I ask. “Like, all the time?”
He leans back, water dripping from his arms, and for a second, I think I’ve pushed too far. But then he smiles, slow and warm, and reaches for my hand under the water.
“Yeah, my darling Little,” Travis answers. “You can call me Daddy whenever you want. Always.”
My chest feels like it’s bursting, joy and warmth flooding me.
I squeeze his hand, bubbles popping between us, and in this moment, surrounded by rubber ducks and toy boats, I can’t help but feel it—this could be Forever.
Him, me, this connection that’s grown through danger and spankings—both serious and fun—and an ever growing list of steamy moments.
Travis’s my Daddy, my protector, the man who sees all of me—lawyer, Little, everything—and doesn’t flinch.
I want this, him, us, for keeps, and the thought makes my heart sing even as the weight of the flash drive, the cartel, the threat, lingers in the back of my mind.
We play a little longer, splashing and laughing, the water cooling around us.
Travis pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me, and I rest my head against his chest, the steady thump of his heart grounding me.
“You’re safe with me, Little Lawyer,” Travis murmurs, his lips brushing my forehead. “And that’s on Guard’s Honor.”
I used to think the Night Ops Guard were the bad guys.
Not anymore.