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Chapter 7
Cade
* * *
I honestly might have wondered if I died out in the middle of the ocean tonight and went straight to Daddy heaven, except I can’t be dead, can I? Because I’m pretty sure spankings that are as deliciously sexy as the one I just witnessed aren’t allowed to happen in any version of heaven I’ve ever been taught about.
The memory makes my dick throb against the front of my pants, and I have to bite back a groan as I reach down to not-so-subtly adjust myself.
Henry—I mean, Daddy—tightens his grip around my waist and I can see that he’s grinning when he looks over at me. “Everything okay, sweet boy?”
Yaz’s head peeks out from around the other side of his broad chest as the three of us walk, arm in arm, across the beach and back to his villa. “Looks like I’m not the only one who enjoyed my spanking tonight. Maybe if you’re good, you’ll get one too, babe.”
“I thought it was for being bad,” I say, her teasing setting off all sorts of butterflies in my stomach. And not even just because of what she said, but because it suddenly feels like we’re us again.
No, better than us if I’m thinking about the version of us that led to the breakup tonight, because now that we’ve a hot Daddy in the middle, holding us together, we actually can joke about things like this without any of that underlying joking-but-not-really discontent seeping through.
Henry chuckles. “Neither of you are bad, but poor life choices need to be corrected.”
“Hey,” I laugh, but the sound that comes out is more like a high-pitched, nervous squeak. “I haven’t done anything that needs to be corrected yet. I don’t need to be spanked.”
Except damn, my cock seems to think differently, so maybe I do.
Henry’s possessive grip tightens against my side, a sexy-as-hell growl escaping him. “Are you sure about that?”
“No. I mean, yes?” I say, flustered and aroused and more than ready to be corrected. “If you think I-I need to be spanked, Daddy, then you’re in charge.” I shamelessly go for puppy dog eyes as I look up at him, a part of me that hasn’t had free rein to do shit like that in a long time giddy with the freedom to put myself in his hands. “I promise I’ll try to be good.”
Totally shameless… and Daddy doesn’t seem to mind at all based on the way his hand moves lower, giving my ass a firm squeeze. “I know you will, sweet boy. And in your case, I think it’s entirely reasonable to treat spankings as a reward, not just a punishment.”
“Hey,” Yasmin says with a sexy pout. “Don’t I get rewards too, Daddy?”
He gives her a hot look that’s almost enough to send me over the edge. “I think watching your boyfriend get spanked will be a very nice reward for you, little girl, don’t you agree?”
Her breath hitches, her beautiful eyes going wide, and I can’t stifle the low whine that squeezes out of me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been a tiny bit jealous watching him with Yasmin a little while ago, but not jealous in the way I might have expected. Not jealous that he was touching her, or that she was so obviously into it. Not even close.
But seeing her squirm in his lap and hearing the desperate, needy little noises she was making while I cradled her pretty head? That was, without a doubt, the singularly hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Hotter than any porn I’ve ever seen. Hotter than anything I’ve dreamed up on my own, by far, and that includes a lot of the erotic fantasies Yaz and I have shared with each other over the years while compiling the List.
But yeah, I was still jealous. I wanted Daddy’s hands on me, too. Not instead of him taking care of Yaz, but it’s like I wanted him to suddenly, somehow, grow more hands, just so he could take care of us both at the same time.
But now, as he leads us up a winding, landscaped staircase from the beach to the door of his personal villa, I’m starting to realize that Daddy doesn’t need more hands after all. He’s completely in control, effortlessly alternating back and forth between us and putting us both at ease in his arms.
And God, I really hope that means it will be that way in the bedroom, too.
Yaz flashes an excited glance my way as we step inside the villa. “Is this where you live, Hen—Daddy?”
I can tell it gives her the same thrill to call him that that it does for me, and Henry likes it, too.
“While I’m on the island,” he answers her, giving us an enigmatic smile. “My living arrangements are… flexible, though.”
I almost joke that so are ours, since neither Yaz nor I have secured a full-time position yet, and could end up anywhere. But I don’t want to think about that right now, or do anything else to bring the mood down.
This is not how I imagined this night ending up. Not in my wildest dreams. And yet, as unexpected—and, frankly, almost magical—as it feels, it also feels like we’re finally completely in sync. Yasmin and I, but also like Henry completes us. Almost as if we’re only finally in sync because Henry is here to complete us.
After how devastated I felt earlier, on the jetty, I’ll do anything to hold onto that feeling, and I chew on my lip a bit as Henry shows us around, bantering with Yaz, trying hard not to get ahead of myself and start hoping that it all means more than it probably does; that the teasing comments he’s dropped about stuff happening between us in the future are something I can count on.
Except, with Henry, with Daddy, everything he does makes me feel like I can count on him.
He ends the tour in the bedroom, and when Yaz’s eyes go wide and she gushes about how gorgeous he is, he laughs, low and throaty, and makes it really hard for me not to think about a future for all three of us when he says, “I’m glad you like it. I want you both to be comfortable here. Do you think you can do that for me, sweethearts?”
