Page 48 of His Holy Chaos

"Go look at yourself," he says, and I'm off the desk and in the bathroom. The eyeliner transforms my face. My honey eyes look enormous, framed in black, vulnerable and vicious. Combined with the harness cutting across my bare chest, the leather pants, I look fucking hot.

He leans against the doorframe, watching me.

"Daddy," I say, staring at my reflection like I'm meeting someone new. "I look…"

"You look delicious and mine," he finishes for me. "Which is the point."

I spin around, and for a moment I want to launch myself at him, but I catch myself, remembering the rules about respect, and instead stand buzzing with restrained energy, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

"Can I hug you?" I ask, and it makes me feel so small, so submissive, but in the best way.

"Come here," he says, and I crash into him like a wave, arms wrapping around his torso, face buried in his neck. He holds me there, one hand on the back of my head, the other splayed across the bare skin of my lower back.

Chapter 23. Ford

Clubs are fun, but I'm too old for them. Too loud. The music, the talking. Too many people, too much going on, drugs, drunks looking for trouble. I prefer to stay in bed, watching TV, with my daughter, or with Jude, having our own kind of fun at home.

But if it makes him happy, I'll do it.

Tonight, right before we go in, he looks like a mix of excitement and guilt. I know that face, and I don't want him spiraling, so I decide to nip it in the bud.

"Look, I know you're still thinking about what you did last time. Don't worry about it. I told you I forgive you. And when we make a decision to forgive someone, we should. Otherwise you're just going to keep punishing this person forever, and that's no way to be, and that's not what I do. So you've paid for it. Now I want you to forget it and try to do better this time. Alright, puppy?" I ask him, and he looks at me with those gorgeous eyes, now glassy with tears.

"I don't deserve you," he says, and I frown, grabbing his chin to make him look at me.

"What did you say? Don't repeat that. I wouldn't waste time with an unworthy sub, would I? Do you think I don't use my time wisely?"

He gulps, but then he's smirking again. "No, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"You should be. Now let's have some fun."

We go in, and he waves at everybody. He's really popular here. He told me he used to manage the place with Glynn. He didn't even do it for the money. He did it because he loved it so much. He used to come here several times a week, and my heart shatters when I think about the isolation he went through after the breakup. I know his ex could be here somewhere too, but I'm not worried about it. Not this time. I trust him.

He finds a tall, beautiful Black man with dreadlocks, standing next to a spanking bench, who grins when he sees Jude.

"This is Callum," Jude tells me with a huge grin on his face. Callum is wearing a pink dress that hugs his frame. "We used to be collar brothers."

"Hey, everyone, nice to meet you all, or see you again," I say with a general wave, and I shake Callum's hand. They all look at me with a similar expression, almost as if I'm a savior of some kind.

"Wow, Jude, you did really well," Callum says with an easy smile. "I'm so glad you're being so good for him. You should have seen this kid at his worst," he tells me, and there's an actual brotherly tone to his voice. Jude just laughs.

"I can't even remember that anymore," he says, and I know he means it. One of the things I admire most about him is his ability not to hold grudges. Whenever he's healed, he simply lets go of the pain. He cherishes good things and loves easily. It comes naturally to him. It's not something I can do as easily.

Callum pulls Jude and me into a quieter corner near the bar, and I follow, content to observe. There's something about the way they move together. Not romantic, nothing like that, but synchronized, like two people who know each other in their bones. Callum drapes an arm around Jude's shoulders, and my boy leans into it without a second thought.

"So you're the one who finally got a leash on this disaster," Callum says to me, and there's warmth in it, but also something probing. His dark eyes scan me. He's measuring me. I respect that.

"Yes, a leash, but also a mutual agreement that he'll stop running into traffic."

Callum laughs. "That's more than anyone else managed." He turns to Jude. "Remember when you climbed that fire escape at Emmett's old place because you were bored?"

"I wasn't bored. I was proving a point," Jude says, stealing my whiskey the second the bartender sets it down. But before he drinks it, he looks at me with these huge eyes. I smile and let him with a nod. He takes a sip and winces at the burn, and I can't help the small smile that tugs at my mouth.

"The point being that gravity is optional and you're insane?" Callum shakes his head, but he's grinning.

They fall into stories I haven't heard, and I listen carefully. The time they both got punished for switching each other's collars as a joke. The night they sat on a rooftop somewhere in Brooklyn, sharing a cigarette after something Callum won't name. His voice just dips and trails off, and Jude fills the silence, redirecting. They protect each other's wounds without being asked. I notice the way Callum watches Jude when he thinks no one is looking, checking for cracks, for signs of the old damage. I want to tell him I do the same thing, that we're not different in that regard, but it feels too early to claim that kind of kinship.

"He's eating regularly? Not Cup Noodles washed down with Monster?" Callum asks me directly, and it's not a casual question. "What about leaving the house? He was the worst about it. Emmett had to threaten him constantly with no orgasms if he didn't go on his daily walks."