Jacob nodded against the cushion. “Yes, sir.”
Tane lifted the paddle, paused just long enough for the anticipation to coil tight, then brought it down in a crisp, controlled arc.
The crack echoed sharp in the quiet room.
Jacob sucked in a breath. “One. Thank you, sir.”
Tane waited three seconds, long enough for the sting to bloom, then delivered the second on the opposite cheek.
“Two. Thank you, sir,” Jacob said, struggling to hold back anowwwas his voice wavered.
By the fifth swat Jacob was shifting his weight, toes curling into the rug, a soft whine escaping between counts. The skin was already pinking up nicely, warm to the touch when Tane rested his palm there between sets.
The second five came faster—Tane angling the paddle to catch the sensitive undercurve where thigh met ass. Jacob’s voice cracked on eight and nine; by ten he was panting, hips rocking minutely against the couch arm.
“Ten. T-t-t-t-thank you, sir.”
Tane set the paddle on the coffee table and smoothed both hands over the heated skin, gentle now, soothing circles. Jacob shivered under the touch.
“Good boy,” Tane murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the nape of Jacob’s neck. “You took that well. We’ll get that butt cooled down soon enough too.”
Jacob turned his head, cheek pressed to the cushion, eyes glassy but bright. “Mmmph, I needed it,” he admitted quietly. “Everything is… soloudin my head tonight.”
Tane’s chest tightened.
He helped Jacob stand, pulled him in close, arms wrapping around bare skin while Jacob buried his face against Tane’s shoulder. The joggers and briefs stayed pooled on the floor. Tane didn’t care. He held Jacob like that for a long minute, one hand carding through blond hair, the other resting possessively at the small of his back.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Tane said against his temple. “About everything. Tonight you just breathe.”
Jacob nodded against him, arms tight around Tane’s waist. “Can we… stay like this a while?”
“Yeah,” Tane said. “We can stay like this as long as you need.”
Tane guided them both down onto the couch. Jacob curled into his side, bare ass still warm against Tane’s thigh, head tucked under Tane’s chin. The city lights kept moving outside the window, indifferent and endless.
Tane pressed another kiss to Jacob’s hair.
The air felt cleaner. Jacob was safe in his arms.
Tomorrow was Game Seven.
Tomorrow the warnings about parties and rival clubs and FBI whispers would have to be said out loud.
But tonight, the paddle had done its job.
Chapter 24
Jacob
“Here we go,” Jacob said, gritting his teeth, ready to do battle.
The Titans” home arena smelled like wet concrete, popcorn grease, and unrivalled hostility. Twenty thousand fans in black and crimson packed the stands, their chants rolling down like thunder every time an Enforcers player touched the puck.
Game One.
Road ice.
High stakes.
