Page 5 of Daddy’s Rules

“Mhm, I told you I had one of those for you, didn’t I?”

Benji shrugged, tilting his head. He was hiding his smile. He knew what I’d said earlier, and now he was playing coy. “Maybe.”

“Come on, you’re a paralegal, I know you can retain information,” I told him. I pressed the keycard to the door, and it clicked, the sensor turning green. “So, maybe I had something brought up here.”

In the hotel room, on the bed, was a new onesie, nothing fancy. Playhouse sold these to customers, so it had just been a case of ordering it. The same with the plush animal. I asked for a lion. They gave him a golden lab dog teddy. It was close enough. Probably. The giftshop hadn’t been on our tour, but I knew he didn’t have much money on him, and I wasn’t a sugar daddy.

“Jesus. Oh my god,” he let out, looking at me with those big eyes. “You did this?”

“Personally, no,” I said. “But I told someone to do it. And they’re yours, to keep.”

He placed his glass on the counter beneath the mounted TV. “And you said you weren’t anyone’s sugar daddy.”

I let out a single laugh, like he’d read my mind. “I’m not,” I said. “These are a treat. You’ve been honest with me, which is important.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled the onesie onto his lap, tearing through the plastic wrap. “So, you’re rewarding me.”

“Exactly. You’ve been a good boy, so you’ll be rewarded. But the moment you become a brat, I’ll let you go—or if I like you, I might try taming methods.”

“Taming?” His brows knitted on his face, his forehead scrunched. “Seems harsh.”

I shrugged, placing my glass on the counter beside his. “A spank here or there. Besides, rules are rules. And I know you’re a rule follower.” I sat beside him on the comfort of the bed. “Now, do you want to change in front of me, or in the bathroom?”

Benji’s voice croaked. “I’ll—”

I placed a hand on his chest. His heart thumped against the palm of my hand. “Or I can change you.”

His mouth opened to answer, his tongue curling inside. “I—”

With a finger at the button of his collar, I’d already started to undress him. “Firstly, this looks a little too tight.”

“You can,” he answered softly.

“Good,” I said. “I don’t want you to stop communicating, so if you’re someone who does non-verbal, you can type, or I know basic sign language, if that’s somewhere you go.”

He smiled, letting out a slight laugh. “What can’t you do?”

“Keep a relationship,” I said. The trouble with being honest was answering questions, even when I knew they were going to make me look bad.

“Why not?” he asked.

I slipped both hands beneath his sweater, peeling him right out of it. Then my fingers worked quickly, untying the shirt buttons one by one—they were easy. He wore a T-shirt beneath, meaning I was still another layer away from touching his skin. He was surprisingly muscular, tensed up, and as I brushed my hand down his chest, I felt abs. “Because I’m busy,” I said. “People sometimes want more than I’m able to give, and I can’t always give myself completely to another person.” With my hand tensing at his torso, I went in on his muscular physique. “You work out, got a sleeper build under there.”

He gulped hard, right by my face, as I was getting to the bottom of his shirt and closer to him, inhaling his scent, which became stronger the more buttons I undid. His warm sweat was pushing his smell out. I liked it.

“It’s part of my routine. Plus, I get a membership with the firm I work at,” he whispered. “Gym. Work. Gym. Work. And in there, I’ll devour like a whole thing of protein.”

“And what can’t you do?” I asked, lifting my head and seeing my job accomplished. All he had to do was shrug the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.

“I—I don’t know,” he said softly. “Things I can’t do, I—well, I practice and try until I can do it. Unless you mean something silly like, I can’t levitate or breathe underwater.” He snickered, snorting. His hand flinched to his mouth. “Like, I can’t do that.”

“Mhmm. That’s funny, I like that. But you’re right, if you can’t do something, you can always keep trying until you can, and I’ve tried, I’ve really tried.” And right now, I was trying my hardest not to think about the people I’d been with in the past, the people who told me I couldn’t be in a relationship, the people who were eager to do their best to knock me down a peg all because I had heights of success they envied. “Either way, we don’t have to try much here. Both of us want this. Right?”

He nodded. “You mean sex?”

I pressed my nose to his neck and moaned lightly in his ear. “Yes, I mean sex.”

His sweet, hoarse moan made my dick throb. “From the moment I saw you, I thought about you fucking me—but that’s because I think a lot about hot guys in suits fucking me.”