No, scratch that. I already knew heneeded. A spanking. What I wanted to figure out was... what was making him need it right now?
We’d been fine—amazing, actually—all week, ever since our “permanent” talk, and I was confident hewantedto come home with me for Christmas, but now he was so jittery he was going to bounce right out of his skin if I didn’t do something about it.
I pulled up in front of the gas pump.
“I’m going to go inside and grab a bottled water,” Jordan said the minute the engine stopped, reaching for his door handle. “Want anything?”
“Yeah, baby,” I said, grabbing his arm. “I want to know what’s wrong.”
He opened his mouth, but since I already knew what was about to come out of it, I talked right over him. “And don’t say nothing. You’ve already earned the spanking you wanted, so we’ll get to that. Right now, just tell me what’s going on so I can help.”
He snapped his mouth closed, then looked out the passenger window again.
I reached over and grabbed his chin, turning his face back toward me. “I know we haven’t talked about the specifics of what we want the Daddy-boy part of our relationship to look like,” I said. “But you’ve got your safeword, and we’ve both agreed that we like it when I’m in charge, so Jordan, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you: tell me what’s going on.”
“What, you just get to tell me to do things and I have to do them?” he asked, some of the tension going out of him. “All the time? Not just when we’re naked?”
“Is that what you want, petal?” I asked, biting back a smile at just how badly I could see hedidwant it.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Looked away.
“Maybe,” he finally mumbled. Then his eyes darted back to mine. “But that’s weird, right?”
“Nope,” I said. “That’sus. And if you want, we can print out some BDSM checklists online about limits. Read through them together to get a better idea of what we both—”
He shook his head, his eyes so wide that it stopped me in my tracks.
“No?” I asked carefully, not sure where I’d gone wrong. “Have you… changed your mind?”
“No,” he said, letting his head fall back onto the headrest. “Fuck. And don’t even bother with that ‘language’ fetish of yours, Andy,” he added, his head popping back up as his voice started rising. “Because you know what? It’s the only fucking word that fuckingfits. You think you want to do all this Daddy shit with me, you tell your family whatever to get them all excited to meet me, but if you actuallyknewshit about me, you’d changeyourmind.”
“Change my mind about you?” I asked, my lips twitching. Not that I thought it was funny that he was upset, but just… no. That was never going to happen. Not ever. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know enough about me if you think that’s true, baby.”
“Andy—” he started.
“Daddy,” I corrected.
“I thought you said it didn’t matter what I called you,” he snapped, his knee bouncing again.
“You know I never said that. Everything about you matters to me, Jordan. But I think maybe you do need a few more rules, don’t you? So let’s make that one of them. It’s not dude. Not even Andy. I’m your Daddy.”
He stared at me, breathing too fast, too hard. “Our lease isn’t even up yet, and Paolo’s already sick of me,” he finally blurted... which just proved that I reallydidunderstand him, because I followed that apparent non sequitur with ease.
“Paolo’s not your Daddy.”
“Yeah, but he’s just like everyone else. Already fucking tired of putting up with me. I’m going to be homeless as soon as our damn leaseisup, just because I don’t read his damn notes.”
I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck again, anchoring him. “I’ll help you find a place of your own if that’s what you want, sweetheart—” definitely not my first choice, “—but homeless? I think we both know I’m never going to let that happen.”
“Get my own place?” He was already shaking his head. “I can’t do that. I’d mess up the bills and shit. Besides, I don’t even have a regular job, so no one’s going to rent to me on my own.”
I was pretty sure that wasn’t true, unless he meant…
“Is money a problem for you?”
