Chapter 3 LOGAN
I didn’t know what we were going to do. All I knew was that he was coming to meet me in town.
I’d had a mulled wine and continued to walk around, making sure I wasn’t going to stop and get cold.
Jamie was gorgeous, and just what I needed.
He was funny, playful, and best of all, he was willing to come give me a tour.
Since I’d been near the chocolate shop, it was easy to meet him.
He appeared from the alleyway, a darkened side path I hadn’t noticed, his messy red waves of hair desperately calling for my fingers to comb through them.
I was letting my thoughts run wild, no longer pushing them behind the hetero identity I was always trying to force onto my face.
“You okay?” he asked, hugging his puffy blue coat tightly around himself.
“Better now,” I said.
“So, what did you want to do, besides the tour?” he said. “And is that code for something, because I really wasn’t sure what it was you wanted? You know, a lot of people come to town, and they’re looking to hookup and you know . . . stuff.”
Slowly nodding, I was staring into his eyes and holding his gaze. “I like to take things a little slow. Like, I want to get to know you a bit.”
That lasted all of ten minutes before we were in my suite at the hotel. Jamie’s confidence was thrilling. He was on his knees for me, unzipping my boots and getting my feet out of them before his own.
“You do this for everyone?” I asked.
He shook his head and licked his lips. From his knees, I could feel he wanted to reach into my trousers. “If this is too fast, let me know.”
“I still want to get to know you,” I said, reaching out and placing a thumb beneath his chin, and raising it slightly.
Giggling at the action, he stuck his tongue out and tried to lick my hand—with no success. “Ask away. I’m an open book, and you’re . . . here for the weekend, or the week.” He shrugged.
Pulling my hand away, I could see he’d done this before. “How often do you do this?”
“Flirt?” he asked, standing now. “Or go back to strangers’ hotel rooms?”
Fuck. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay. I think it’s important to talk about,” he said. “As long as everything is consensual and safe, I don’t really think a number should be applied.”
“Jeez, kids these days, they’ve got all this fancy lingo,” I snorted.
“How old are you?”
“Forty. Just turned a couple of weeks back,” I told him.
Jamie placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Well, I’m twenty-three. So there’s what—”
“Seventeen years between us.”
Now gnawing on his lip lightly, he nodded. “I have a confession to make,” he said, his hand sliding down my chest like he was ready to tear my sweater off me.
“You know who I am,” I grumbled into a sigh. It was going to be obvious. I hadn’t meant to wear the team merch, but the beanie was comfy and I didn’t own any other scarves. “You can’t tell anyone. Please.”
Jamie shook his head. “No, that’s not—wait, who are you?” he asked. “I was gonna say, I usually go for older guys because I have a—”
“Fuck.”
He snorted and giggled. “I’m into guys who like to be called Daddy, and guys who want to treat me like a good boy.”
“Fuck, yeah. Okay, I love that.”
Jamie continued to press me against the wall. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. “But who are you? If you think I know you, I wanna know before this goes any further.”
“I’m an assistant coach for the—” I mumbled the team name as he leaned in close trying to catch it.
He shrugged. “The guys at Maplehaven?”
“No, no, I—you know—” I gestured to the hat I’d placed on the hook with my scarf.
“The fucking Maple Kings,” he let out. “Oh my god, oh my god, what?”
I’d really dogged myself into that one. He didn’t know, and now he knew. “Just keep it down,” I said. “I’m—”
“They’re on a losing streak right now,” he said. “My dad’s been obsessed since you guys formed two years back.”
I nodded. “And if we keep that losing streak up, we’re toast.”
“Aren’t you backed by those same billionaires who run Whitespire Academy?”
That I didn’t know, but I knew it was one of those elite schools where those same billionaires no doubt were trained to be money hoarders. “Can we not talk about any of this?” I asked. “I’m trying to get away from everything.”
“I promise not to mention it,” he said. “But if my dad asks, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it down. The assistant coach to the Vermont Maple Kings was in our chocolate shop, and now . . .” He blew a raspberry, walking off and spinning around in a circle.
“Take your shoes off,” I said, seeing the snow falling off them and wetting the coral-cream tile.
“Yes, Daddy,” he said, turning sharply and pouting.
A thrilling shiver tickled through me—and tingled in all the place I’d been too stressed to pay attention to.
“Okay, okay,” I let out, watching him follow my orders and place his boots beside mine at the front door.
“This could work. I kinda boss people around for a living, but this time, I’m not going to be getting you to shoot pucks. ”
On his knees, he crawled to me. “I thought you said no more work talk,” he said. “We have a rule like that in our house. No work talk.”
It was reasonable, but there was something in me that made it impossible not to have work on my mind.
A curse and sometimes a blessing. “So, I’m here for a week.
I’ve met a cute guy, and we both want to have fun together.
I’m down for whatever you want to do. Call me Daddy, and I’ll call you my boy. You like being submissive.”
He let out a slight whining moan. “Really?”
“Yeah, it’s not my first time,” I told him. “So, you regress?”
“Sometimes . . . but it’s never deep,” he said. “Like some littles I know.”
A slow head nod of realization. “You’re a little; you should’ve said.” This was the perfect distraction from my life. Jamie was perfect to help get my mind off everything.
He slowly undressed out of his thick winter clothes and revealed there was a cute onesie beneath it, all white covered in a pattern of candy canes and Christmas trees. “I was in bed when you texted,” he said. “I was about to—” He gulped hard.
“What?” I asked.
Like he didn’t know if he was sure about the words he was about to get out. “I was going to—to fuck my teddy bear.”
I met him on his knees. “One thing I want to be clear about . . . I’m a top.”
“Just because I fuck a fleshlight inside a stuffy, that doesn’t make me a top,” he giggled. “I’m a bottom, obviously, I like to feel my Daddy—deep, hard, pulsating, throbbing—” Before he could get another word out to tease me, we locked lips and fell into each other’s arms.
The floor was far too uncomfortable to fool around on. I picked him up and he wrapped his legs around my waist, still kissing my neck and . . . sucking.
“What are you doing?”
“Am I not allowed to leave a mark?” he asked. “Wait—” He tried pulling away. “You’re not one of those guys married with kids and this is like a secret life thing.”
I held him tighter, closer. “Absolutely not. I’m single. I’m here, and I want to explore your body. If that’s okay with you?”
Jamie nodded, pouting his bottom lip it.
I leaned in close, taking his lip into my mouth and playfully giving it a bite to see what all the fuss was about, biting someone’s lower lip.
It was soft—pillowy. I placed him on the bed and he held his arms out and legs in the air like he wanted me to pick him back up.
“And you can leave your little bite marks, but not anywhere people can see,” I told him.
“Oopsy,” he giggled. “Do you wanna punish me?” He rolled over on the bed as I sat and undressed on the edge. “You can gave me a spank if you want. You can . . . bite me back. You can—you can do anything you want to me. I’m all yours, Daddy.”
It was the speed of it that surprised me the most, how perfectly it fit in with the moment. I was so ready to play, and I had all of this stress to work out as pleasure on his body. I nodded. “How do you like to be spanked?” I asked. “With a hand?”
“Unless you’ve got something else.” He giggled, wiggling his bum in anticipation, ready for me to rain down my sweet little spankings.
“Can I add additional spanks?”
“What for?” he asked.
“Well, for selling me that big chocolate bar, and for making me chase after that flimsy receipt you wrote your number on,” I told him.
“Okay, but you should think of a fourth, to make sure it’s even, you know, two on each cheek.”
“Then . . . maybe you should get an additional spank for being too cute, and somewhat unable to resist,” I said.
“I accept those terms,” he said, unzipping his onesie and sliding it down to his ass. He pulled up the tight black briefs until they were between his cheeks like a thong.
I stared at that peachy ass on the bed. He kept looking back at it and shaking it like they were jellies on a plate.
Wobbling them around, hypnotizing me. I climbed onto the bed behind him in my T-shirt and boxers, my chubbed cock tucked safely into the waistband, hiding that surprise from him—I knew he was looking for the tent in my boxers.
“You know how to spank?” he asked.
“You think you’re the first? I’ve spanked my fair share of asses, just like you’ve probably been spanked by your fair share of . . . Daddies?”
“Some of them hated the title, but it didn’t matter, because what a little wants, a little gets—even if the Daddy doesn’t really embrace it,” he said, wiggling his ass a little more, thrusting his hips into the bed itself.
Spreading his legs, I made room for myself there.
And down I went. I had to plant my face firmly on them, rubbing my cheeks against his soft peachy ass.
I moaned onto them, out of nowhere. It was a guttural groan.
I actually hadn’t had sex in months, and this was probably everything I needed, my face between those cheeks, tasting his sweetness.
But before I could get to the sweet core, I had to tease those cheeks red and watch my little as he braced with his teeth in his lips and some deep-throated moans. I spanked him, once, right where the peak curvature of his ass was. My hand didn’t leave a mark, and he saw that.
“Harder, Daddy,” he said. “If you want to leave a reward on my skin.”
“A reward?” I asked, patting the spot where I’d spanked as if I was comforting it.
“Yeah, it’s a funishment,” he said. “Fun punishment. It’s a reward for being a bit of a brat. But if you’re not into that, I’ll tone it down.”
I shook my head, running a hand up his back.
“Never tone yourself down.” My hand reached his head with me leaning over him.
I was finally pushing my fingers through his gorgeous hair.
I pulled him up by it for a kiss, and my hard cock slipped out of my boxers and with perfect precision, like I hoped my players would have, it rested between his ass cheeks, a hot dog for his firm buns.
“I’ve got another spank before we get there,” he giggled.
“And I’d hoped you would greet him before then.”
He nodded, wiggling his ass as my cock was getting ready to burrow itself into him prematurely. “One more spank coming up, and this time, I’ll make sure you can see my fingerprints from it.”