Chapter 9

"You're still happy to stay?" Miles hugs me from behind and kisses the sensitive spot behind my ear as my car gets towed away.

"Yes. Very happy." I turn, loop my arms around his neck, and kiss him.

He quickly takes charge, which I'm more than happy to let him do. Miles is a great kisser and an amazing hugger.

We've already been for a jog through the wood after which we made and ate breakfast together. I've called the bed and breakfast in Scarborough to let them know I won't be arriving after all. The thought of spending the week with Miles sends butterflies dancing in my stomach. I'm no longer salty about my spate of bad luck. It led me to him after all.

"How can I spoil you today?" He slides his hand to my arse and squeezes.

"You can have that later, Daddy. I thought I'd help you decorate your lounge."

He frowns. "You're supposed to be having a relaxing week."

I shrug. "Doing things with you will be relaxing."

"Even decorating?"

"Yes! It'll be fun."

Miles pecks my nose. "You have a strange idea of fun."

I play with his shirt buttons. "I want to spend time with you, Daddy. If I can be helpful at the same time, all the better."

"You're a kind and generous man, Harris. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"You're not, Daddy. I'm offering to help. I want to help. Besides, decorating is dirty, sweaty work, and I'm sure that turns you on." I walk my fingers up his chest, ending up trailing them through his beard as we kiss.

"You don't need to get dirty to turn me on, boy."

"True, but it's more fun this way, and you make progress on your decorating. Come on, Daddy. Let's get to work."

We hold hands as we walk down the driveway to the house. It's a nice day, with crisp air, a gentle breeze, and blue skies. The property will look beautiful in the summer.

"I'll have to come back for your grand opening in June," I say.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I need to convince my bank manager that your plan is profitable."

"Our plan, Daddy. We came up with it together."

He squeezes my hand. "Thank you."

"It was fun. But seriously, I want to come back and see your vision become reality. It will happen. I know it."

"Will you pursue your dreams too?"

He scuffs his sole against the rough ground. "I don't have any dreams as grand as yours."

Miles stops and pulls me so we're chest to chest. "I doubt that. If you could quit your job tomorrow and do anything, what would it be?"

"I don't know. Something I'm passionate about but gives me a better work-life balance than I have now. I want to travel. I haven't seen much of the world, unlike you."

"Where would you want to go?"

I shrug. "Anywhere that's queer-friendly. I wouldn't want to hide or repress who I am to visit a country, no matter how beautiful it is. I'd rather avoid places I'm not welcome."

"I didn't have a choice when I was in the army."

I stroke his cheek. "That can't have been easy, especially once you were out."

"It was what it was. We were there to serve, not sightsee."

We carry on to the house and go into the lounge.

"What job do you want me to do, Daddy?"

"You wanted to get dirty and sweaty for me so you can strip the wallpaper." He gestures to a steamer.

"Is that all you want me to strip, Daddy?"

He rubs my upper arms. "I'll definitely want you to strip all your clothes off. Later."

"After decorating."

He hums as he slams his mouth over mine. My skin tingles in response to the intensity of the kiss. This week is going to be more amazing than I could have dreamt.

"What are you going to do, Daddy?"

"Scrape old paint off the skirting boards."

We get to work. The heat from the steamer has me sweating in no time. I shed my jumper, but I'm still too hot in my T-shirt. I use a scraper to get the stubborn bits of wallpaper off. It's not long before I have glue and scraps of paper sticking to my skin and clothes. Not that I care. It's satisfying to pull huge strips of dated paper off the walls.

"What's your plan for decorating in here, Daddy?"

"It's a big room with lots of light, so I thought I'd do a strong colour on at least one of the walls. Probably the one with the fireplace." Miles kneels as he uses a paint stripper and scraper on the skirting boards. His shirt has ridden up, showing off the small of his back and the top of his arse crack.

"What colour?"

"I hadn't got that far."

"What's your favorite colour?"

"Navy blue."

"Huh."

"What, boy?"

I laugh. "I thought it might have been khaki green."

He hooks his top lip. "I've had enough of khaki green for a lifetime."

"But you'll wear it for promo photos, won't you?"

"If you think it's the best option."

"I do, Daddy. Navy blue would look good. Maybe with cream on the other three walls and gold accents."

He bobs his head from side to side. "It would look good. What's your favorite colour?"

"Whatever you're wearing." I grin.

"As flattering as that is, answer properly, boy."

"Purple. I especially love Cadbury's purple."

"Is chocolate your favorite snack?"

I chuckle. "How did you guess, Daddy?"

"I wonder."

"Do you know what the best way to eat chocolate is?"

He shakes his head.

"Being fed it one square at a time by my Daddy. Preferably while we're naked."

"Is that a hint?"

I flutter my lashes. "Maybe."

"Milk or dark?"

"Milk. I bet you prefer dark chocolate."

"Yes, but I also prefer savoury foods."

I put the steamer down and ease a sheet of wallpaper off the wall. It almost comes away cleanly, only leaving a few scraps behind. I put the steamer over the largest.

"If it's not chocolate, what's your favorite snack?"

"Nuts. Pistachios are my favorites. Are you allergic to nuts?"

"No. Pistachios are best when chopped into tiny pieces and sprinkled on ice cream. Chocolate ice cream." I lick my lips.

"And is ice cream best when your Daddy feeds you?"

"How did you guess, Daddy?"

"I'm afraid I don't have any ice cream or chocolate in the house."

I scrape the scrap of paper I've been steaming off the wall. "No worries. We can go shopping. Unless you plan on holding me hostage here all week."

"I am. In the cellar," Miles says in a deadpan voice.

"I'm okay with that as long as you've got kinky toys down there. I bet you could rail me hard if I were in a sex swing." I moan at the thought.

"I don't have a sex swing."

"Shame." I wipe my arm over my forehead and use my t-shirt to fan my chest.

"I'll open a window," Miles says.

"Or I could take more clothes off." I put my tools on the floor and pull my t-shirt over my head. I toss it onto the sofa, which is where my jumper ended up.

Miles stares at me with hungry eyes. I pretend not to notice as I move on to the next section of wallpaper that needs stripping.

"What's the weirdest thing you've eaten?" I ask.

"Roasted grasshoppers."

My stomach flips. "Seriously?"

"Yes. They're a delicacy in some countries."

"Uh-huh. Gross."

"They were nicer than I was expecting."

My curiosity gets the better of me. "Okay, I'll bite. What do they taste of?"

"Earthy. A bit like mushrooms. When you first bite into them, they're crunchy, but the meat inside is chewy."

I grimace. "You're not selling the experience."

"What's the weirdest thing you've eaten?"

"Deep fried chocolate."

Miles laughs. "I'm starting to think you're a chocoholic."

"Me? Never."

He laughs harder. "You're doing a good job."

"I bet it's more fun decorating in company than alone."

"Much more fun." He pushes me against the wall and kisses me hard, grinding his groin against mine.

"We're supposed to be working, Daddy."

"I am. I'm working on turning my sweaty, dirty boy on."

He nips the skin over my collarbone. I gasp, my pulse racing as blood rushes to my cock. "You're very good at your job, Daddy."

He licks the sweat from my temple. "And you're good at your job."

"What's my job, Daddy?"

"Right now?" He ghosts his lips over mine.

"Uh-huh."

"Being sexy for me."

"We should do more decorating, Daddy."

"We can do more later."

I stroke his chest with one hand and his hip with the other. Why does he have to be fully dressed? "And now, Daddy? What are we going to do now?"

"Turn the steamer off."

"Safety first."

He chuckles and plunges his tongue into my mouth. "Then I'm going to carry you upstairs."

"And be my drill sergeant?"

"Yes."

"I'm looking forward to being put through my paces, Daddy."

"You might not be able to walk afterwards."

I snort-laugh. "Oh, Daddy, I'm counting on it."

* * *

My ringtone drags me out of sleep. What time is it? I rub my face. It doesn't make me feel any more awake. I'm on my stomach, with Miles half lying over me. I fumble for my phone and squint at the screen. Nigel. Calling me at some god-forsaken time of the morning. He can fuck off. I cancel the call, put my phone on the bedside table, and snuggle against Miles's strong chest.

He skims his hand over my bare hip. "Morning, boy."

"Morning, Daddy."

My phone rings again. I press my face against the pillow and whimper.

"Do you need to get that?" Miles asks.

"No." But should I? I check the screen. It's Nigel. I cancel the call again and turn into Miles's arms.

He welcomes me with a toe-curling kiss, which reminds me of all the fun we had yesterday afternoon and last night. We got a tiny bit more decorating done between enjoying each other. He is wonderfully virile.

My ringtone lances through my thoughts.

"He's going to keep ringing if I don't answer."

"Your brother?"

I nod.

"You could turn your phone off." Miles nuzzles my jaw and neck.

"Tempting, but what if something's wrong?" I grab my phone. "Hi, Nigel."

"Where are you?"

"Um, on holiday."

Miles gives me a crooked smile. I raise my eyebrows in a ‘what?' expression. I can't tell my older brother I'm in bed with a sexy Daddy, can I? Miles moves down my body slowly, kissing every inch of my skin.

"Cut it short. I need you here."

"No."

"What do you mean, no? Yesterday was hell without you."

"Nigel, I need this break. I'll be back on Monday."

"Do you want me to grovel?"

"No."

"All right, I'll grovel. I can't cope without you, Harris. Please come back to the office today." He draws please out to four times its normal length.

I roll onto my back and flop my arm over my forehead. Miles pauses kissing me. He rests his chin on my stomach.

"I'm on holiday." Does my voice sound weaker than it did a moment ago?

"Take your holiday another week."

I pinch my lips together and take a long, calming breath through my nose. "I explained why I had to take this week off."

"You can carry the week over."

Somehow, I doubt that.

"Stop fucking about, Harris. You've got a job to do."

"I'm not fucking about."

Miles smirks. Okay, maybe I am fucking about. I stick my tongue out at him. He pinches my nipple. I bite my tongue so I don't moan or whimper down the phone.

"I'm on holiday. I'll see you on Monday."

"You're not irreplaceable," Nigel says.

What's that supposed to mean? "I know."

"I could find someone else who'll be here when I need them."

"You won't find anyone willing to forgo all their holiday allowance. You'll cope without me for one week. I'm hanging up now."

"Don't you dare."

"Bye, Nigel."

"Harris—"

I hang up, switch my phone off, and drop it on the bedside table. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Almost."

I raise my eyebrows.

"You should have hung up earlier. No offense, but your brother is an arsehole. Did he really think you'd give up your holiday time to return to work?"

I squirm. "Yes."

Miles holds my gaze. "Because you have before?"

"Nigel's financial year runs from when he founded the company rather than from April. It ends on Friday. This is the first leave I've taken this year. I know. I know. I'm a mug."

Miles shakes his head. "No. You're generous and care about your brother and his company, but that doesn't mean you should let him take advantage of you."

"I know."

"Do you?"

I sigh.

"No wonder you needed to relax this week."

I chuckle. "You're doing a good job of helping me do that, Daddy. A very good job. My arse is going to remember this week for a long time to come."

"Just your arse?"

"Me. I'm going to remember it." I wrap my arms around him and pull him to me for a kiss.

"We've still got most of the week left."

"We do." But we won't be able to say that tomorrow. Why does that make my heart heavy?

Miles lies beside me, stroking my hair as he gazes at me. "You're beautiful."

My face flushes with heat. "Are you trying to get into my pants?"

"You're not wearing pants."

I chuckle. "I'm not wearing anything. Nor are you."

He kisses me. "Perfect."

"Are we going to do more decorating today, Daddy?"

"No." He holds my face in his large hands and kisses me repeatedly.

"What are we going to do?"

"Stay in bed for a bit longer."

"Yes, please, Daddy."

"Go for a run together."

I wrinkle my nose. "You're not going to let me slack off, are you?"

"You said you enjoy jogging."

"I do."

"And that you used to do it every day."

"I did."

"Then you shall."

"Yes, Daddy."

"We could go to Scarborough for the day."

"I'd like that."

He nibbles my lower lip affectionately. "Maybe we could stop for chocolate and ice cream on the way home."

"Sounds amazing."

"And have a relaxing evening together."

"Not too relaxing, I hope, Daddy."

He laughs. "Oh, we'll work out together if that's what my boy wants."

"It is." I don't want to waste a second of our time together.

He wraps his arms around me and turns onto his back, pulling me on top of him. We kiss for a few seconds. Then he rolls us again, grabs my wrists, and pins me to the bed. He kisses me harder, his tongue doing wonderful things to my mouth.

"Cuddle. Jog. Day trip." He kisses me between each statement.

"Sounds like a perfect day."