“What’s taking so long? I’m starving. You need tip money or something?” Wyatt called. When he saw the woman in the doorway, he frowned.
“Wyatt,” the woman called with a wave. “Miranda Rodrigues for theMiami Sun. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your father’s campaign.” She looked Linc up and down, one brow raised and a smirk spreading across her face. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later.”
Linc’s blood pounded in his ears. “He’s not answering questions for the press. How did you get up here?”
She shrugged, once more attempting to look around Linc’s massive frame. “So, you have no comment about your father’s recent decision to vote no on a bill for equal pay for women?” she asked, voice raised.
Behind her, the elevator dinged and a teenage boy with greasy brown hair and acne stepped off with a box full of food in his hands. When he got to where Linc and the woman stood, he frowned in confusion. “Uh, delivery?”
Wyatt appeared at Linc’s side, snatching the box from the guy and sliding him a fifty before disappearing once more. “Hey, guys. Food’s here,” Wyatt yelled over his shoulder like there was a room full of people hidden behind the door. The delivery kid was already at the elevators, not interested in whatever drama unfolded behind him.
“Wyatt—” the woman started, but Linc cut her off.
“Listen, he’s not interested in answering your questions. This is private property. If you come back here again, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“Well, aren’t you the protective one,” she said with a snicker.
“That’s my job, lady.”
“Well, my job is to report the news, and the senator’s son’s been nowhere to be found for months and suddenly he’s back on the list for every major function. I just thought there might be a story here.”
Linc glared at the woman, but she was unimpressed. “There’s no story. Don’t come back.”
He closed the door in her face, locking it and sliding the deadbolt into place before he returned to the living room. He needed to pull his head out of his ass. He should never have answered the door without looking. Sure, there was no actual physical threat to Wyatt, but anybody could have been on the other side, including the senator himself. Could they have justified their lack of clothing, sure, but if anybody, including that reporter, had seen the fingerprint bruises on Wyatt’s hips or the bite marks on his chest and shoulders, they couldn’t have explained those away.
They both sat in silence for a few minutes as Linc placed the plastic to-go containers on the table and handed Wyatt a set of chopsticks. Wyatt studied the side of Linc’s face as if trying to gauge his mood. Linc took the remote Wyatt had abandoned and set the movie back to the beginning, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal.
Wyatt popped open the lo mein container, digging in with his chopsticks. “So, what’s so great about this movie, anyway?” he asked, voice hesitant like he wasn’t sure Linc wanted him to speak.
Linc glanced over at him, reaching for the rice. “Uh, sword fights, pirates, sarcasm, torture, giants, Mandy Patinkin?”
Wyatt held the noodles in the air before tipping them into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully before he smirked at Linc. “The dude fromCriminal Minds? Oh, yeah. He’s cool, I guess.”
Linc scoffed. “Pay attention. This movie’s gonna blow your mind.”
Wyatt slapped a sloppy kiss on Linc’s jaw. “If you say so, Daddy.”
Linc chuckled. “Brat.”
Wyatt was having the best dream ever. Linc’s mouth was on him, sucking him like he was attempting to pull Wyatt’s brain out through his dick. Wyatt tried to thrust deeper into the hot suction, but Linc’s hands held him in place, gripping him tight enough to bruise.Wyatt fisted his hands into Linc’s hair, begging him to take more, to let him push deeper, but each time Wyatt spoke, Linc would pull off, content to wait Wyatt out until he quieted.
It was maddening—each time Wyatt went silent, Linc’s mouth started again, working him harder, driving Wyatt toward his climax until he was a babbling mess, which would only cause Linc to stop once more. Whenever Wyatt begged, Linc would laugh and play with him more, licking and sucking at the crease of his thigh or the spot behind his balls—anywhere but where Wyatt needed it most—until Wyatt was a sobbing, panting mess.
“Tell me when you’re about to come,” Linc demanded in a low rumble, biting at the inside of Wyatt’s thigh hard enough to rip him from sleep and show him he wasn’t dreaming at all. Wyatt blinked heavy lids at Linc, who kneeled at the foot of the bed, Wyatt’s thighs over his massive shoulders.“Oh, God,” Wyatt moaned.
“Daddy will do,” Linc said around a smirk. “Tell me when you’re close. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Wyatt promised, tossing his head back as Linc took him to the back of his throat.
Linc was the best Daddy ever. First, the rimming and then the hand job last night and another in the shower before he tucked him back in, and now the perfect suction of Linc’s mouth as he gave him the hottest blow job of his life. Wyatt arched his hips and this time Linc let him. He lost himself in the sensation, fucking deeper without thought, caught up in the feel of Linc’s lips working him over and the way he tongued at his slit, his stubble burning against all Wyatt’s most sensitive spots.
“I’m close… I’m so close… Daddy—”
The perfect heat of Linc’s mouth disappeared. Wyatt tried to force his brain to process the sudden absence. Linc hovered above him now, resting his weight on his hands, a self-satisfied smile on his stupid, flawless face. Wyatt blinked up at him in confusion.
“You don’t get to come again until I give you permission. Your punishment begins now.”
Wyatt felt his face collapse. “Punishment?”
