The downside of having a friend who knew you inside and out, he supposed.
“What’s it like, then? Because to me, it looks exactly like…” Glancing around, Ethan frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure what the fuck it looks like. What’s with all the stuffed animals?”
“Oh mygod.” Groaning, Samantha buried her face in her hands. “This could not possibly be any more humiliating.”
Every bit of Dylan’s attention shifted to his babygirl. “Sam, why don’t you go get changed while—” He caught himself just before the wordDaddyslipped out. “While I clean up and talk to Ethan.”
Her head snapped up, fire flashing in her eyes and he knew before she even said anything he was about to have a fight on his hands. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, Dylan.”
Temper sparked in his chest, but he shoved it down. There were times for him to be a hardass, and there were times for him to be understanding. This was clearly the latter. “I know. I just thought you might prefer to have this conversation in some more… comfortable clothes.”
Sam glanced down, her cheeks turning bright red as she took in her clothes—or lack thereof. “Fuck my life,” she muttered, shoving up off couch and tugging at her shirt. “I’ll be right back.”
Ethan’s eyes went wide and for a moment, Dylan assumed he was simply shocked by the sight of his mother in nothing but apair of knee-high socks, adorable panties, and a shirt that barely covered her stomach.
But then Dylan glanced over, and his heart dropped into his stomach at the sight of his babygirl’s ass and upper thighs. Still blazing red and with hints of darker color coming through that were likely to be bruises, she looked exactly like what she was—a Little girl who’d recently been spanked and spanked hard.
Fuck.
“Mom, what the hell happened to you?” Striding forward, Ethan grabbed Sam’s upper arm, holding her in place while he surveyed the damage. “Did he do this to you? Did he—did hehurtyou?”
“It’s not like that, honey.” Sam’s tone turned placating as she twisted out of her son’s grasp, turning so he could no longer see her reddened ass. “It was… We were…”
“Samantha.” He kept his tone even, as calm as possible given the thundering of his heart. “Go get changed. Now.”
Thankfully, she obeyed, hurrying off toward her bedroom, leaving Dylan alone to face his best friend’s wrath. “Look, E, this isn’t how?—”
But his explanation was cut off by the sudden crunching of bone as Ethan’s fist plowed right into his face. Pain bloomed, hot and agonizing, and Dylan raised a hand to his nose, unsurprised when his fingers came away covered in blood.
“Feel better?”
Fury burned in eyes that were so much like Samantha’s it made Dylan more than a little uncomfortable to meet his gaze. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
“With all due respect, Ethan, it’s Sam’s house. If she wants me to leave, she’s more than capable of telling me so.”
“Was this your plan all along?” Lip curling up in a snarl, Ethan’s hands tightened into a fist again and Dylan braced for another blow. “Pretend to be my friend so you could get close tomy mom? Tell me, did you target me specifically or were you just hoping you’d get placed with someone who happened to have a single, desperate mother you could take advantage of?”
He let the anger come, let it burn hot enough to match Ethan’s. But before he could rip his friend a new one, another voice joined the fray.
“Is that how you see me?”
They turned as one toward Samantha, who had pulled on a pair of leggings over her “Little girl” outfit without even bothering to change her shirt. Hurt radiated off her, so palpable it made Dylan’s chest ache.
Before either of them could speak, however, her eyes went wide with shock. “Dylan! What happened to your face?”
“Nothing. It’s fine, baby, I promise.”
Fire flashed in her eyes as she rounded on her son. “What the hell iswrongwith you? I didn’t raise you to go around punching people in the face!”
Ethan’s fierce expression only faltered for a second before he jerked his chin up, again looking so much like his mother when she was settling in to be stubborn about something that Dylan nearly laughed. “He hurt you, Mama! I saw the bruises! And your eyes are all red and puffy like you’ve been crying!”
“Oh mygod.” Color flooded Sam’s face. “He didn’t hurt me, Ethan. He just spanked me.”
“He… what?”
Under other circumstances, the pure confusion on his friend’s face would have had Dylan doubled over with laughter. But he was wise enough to know that laughing now would just piss off both mother and son, even more than they already were.
“He spanked me,” Sam repeated, her face still glowing hot and bright. “It was completely consensual, and that’s all I’m telling you, Ethan Samuel.”
