Page 3 of My Family

I lean against the stainless steel of the serving counter and let my head drop forward. My hair falls over my eyes. I'm tired in a good way. My shirt is damp, my socks are wet from kneeling in mop water, and there's a faint ache between my shoulder blades. But I'm still thrilled about our little snow cone adventure. Fuck, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

I could stay like this for a while. Just breathing.

When I lift my head, he's already here.

He’s three feet away with his hands at his sides, watching me with those green eyes and an amused frown that only he can create. How can he look so mean and threatening and annoyed when he’s smiling? God knows how.

He knows I've been bad.

Oh, hell yes.

I straighten up against the counter, but I don't step away from it. I couldn't if I tried. He always makes me fucking nervous, so much so that I usually freeze on the spot, waiting for my fate.

One of his eyebrows goes up in that ridiculously sexy way only he can muster. He lets the silence stretch. He's good at this, at letting the quiet do the work, letting me fill it with my own heartbeat, my own breathing, my own imagination running ahead to what's coming, my own cock hardening.

"You two made quite the spectacle today," he says with that magnificent low voice that sometimes becomes almost a growl, which produces a spectacular heat that makes my skin tighten. "Aren't you lucky I can't punish you, Jack?" he asks him, ignoring me.

Jack laughs from somewhere behind me.

"You're fucked. Daddy is angry."

My cock throbs. Instantly. So damn fucking embarrassing. I press my hips back against the counter.

Ethan doesn't react to Jack. Doesn't break eye contact with me, and now he's grinning like the Joker, which is scarier than his serious face. He takes a step closer.

"Do you think what you did in here was acceptable behavior, puppy?" he asks quietly—looking only at me. Fuuuuuuck.

"No," I say. It comes out barely above a whisper. I want to sound brave. I never sound brave when he's like this.

"No, what?"

"No, Daddy."

His eyes darken, my cock throbs, and he takes another step. I feel like a fucking bunny trapped by a wolf, and my cock goes to town with that thought. He's close enough now that I can feel the warmth radiating off his body, and I really fucking want to hug his waist, but I stop myself. My two sides: wanting him to hunt and punish me, wanting him to comfort me. My breathing is shallow and fast, and I can't control it. His hand lifts. I think he's going to touch me, my face, my neck, anywhere, please, but instead he places it flat on the counter beside my hip. His thumb is half an inch from my body.

"Mm." He leans closer. His lips brush the shell of my ear, and every nerve ending in my body fires at once, a full-body shudder I can't suppress. "Cleaning the cafeteria wasn't enough. You know that, right?"

I swallow. My throat clicks. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." His hand comes up, finally, and his fingers trace along my jaw, feather-light, a touch so gentle it's almost worse than if he grabbed me. I want him to grab me. He gives me only the tip, and I want the whole thing. "...you're going to come to my office during rec time tonight. And I'm going to give you proper discipline. Since Griff clearly went easy on you."

My blood goes hot. I can feel my face flushing, feel the heat spreading down my neck and into my chest, and lower. I try to meet his eyes and can't because I'm so fucking embarrassed in the best way possible. I try again, and his green eyes are dark, pupils wide. He loves to tease me like that; it's the most fun he has.

"Yes, Daddy," I whisper.

“Such a good boy when you want to be,” he whispers. I feel even more embarrassed and delighted. He pulls back just enough to look at my face. His eyes drop to my mouth. They stay there for two full seconds, long enough that I feel my lips part on their own, long enough that I lean forward an inch before catching myself. He sees it. A flicker crosses his face, and it's a hungry expression. His thumb brushes my lower lip. Then he steps back. Straightens his shirt. Adjusts his expression back to neutral. I don't know how he can fucking do that. It's like he becomes a different Ethan, from one second to the next, and I'm always the same messy Liam, clearly shaken by him, clearly unable to play it cool, ever.

"Finish up here," he says, normal volume. "And stay out of the kitchen. Both of you."

"Yes, boss," Jack jokes, fake-saluting.

Ethan turns and walks away. The cafeteria doors open and close behind him.

I stay pressed against the counter, breathing hard. Heartbeat so loud I can hear it in my ears. My whole body is buzzing, blood too hot. Fuck.

Jack gives me one of his cheeky smirks.

"Don't," I say.