Page 4 of Spoil Me, Daddy
At lunchtime, he ate his couscous and salad at his desk so he could continue his work. He didn’t feel like he was making any headway, but he must’ve been. His school was a mixed ability school, which meant it included all children regardless of their protected characteristics or special requirements. He didn’t see why he couldn’t provide what each child needed with a bit of research and funding. It was the funding that was the problem. He’d argued with the education committee many times already about the need for more cash, but as usual, money was what made the world go round.
Pamela brought him a cup of coffee, for which he was eternally grateful, and slipped out of his office again.
Aaron rested back in his chair with another sigh, probably the fiftieth that day, and thought back to the previous Friday night. He’d gone out with Nora, his best friend of thirty-odd years. They had met in secondary school in Lincoln, and after college, Nora had moved with her then-boyfriend to Cambridge. After Aaron’s departure from his previous role, Nora had suggested he relocate. He loved Cambridge, always had whenever he had visited her, and more so now he lived there.
Friday had been the first time in several weeks when he’d had enough energy to venture out. Nora had told him about a free-for-all night at one of the clubs, and as she and her now-husband, Geoff, were in a Mistress and puppy relationship, it allowed Aaron and Nora to go together rather than have to split up as they had to occasionally. Apparently, some clubs thought Daddies and Mummies, and Masters and Mistresses shouldn’t mix, which was a rather silly notion, which was, thankfully, not seconded by many places.
He’d been talking to Nora at the bar, waiting to be served when a guy shouted his order near his ear. Despite the pounding music, the voice was piercing and had Aaron wincing and twisting to tell the guy to wait his turn. The guy, dressed in an eye-catching red halter-neck, gave him the cold hard facts ashe’dbelieved them to be and promptly received his drink within minutes. Giving Aaron a final word, he’d sashayed off, his hips and skirt swaying with the beat of the music.
After the guy had left, Aaron had raised his eyebrows at Nora and shrugged, then shouted their order to the bartender. Several minutes later, their drinks were in front of them, and he’d wished he could thank the guy.
Later that night, he’d seen the same guy give a dressing down to someone who had bumped into him. Okay, his perfectly fitted clothing had possibly been ruined by whiskey, especially as he heard the word satin being bantered around, but the accident-prone guy didn’t deserve the words thrown his way.
When the guy had muttered and left, Aaron couldn’t help but follow. As he saw the guy stare at the sky, words escaped before he realised what he was going to say. His tongue reprimanded the guy’s response, and apart from the initial push back, the guy had taken the slap on the wrist well. It hadn’t been Aaron’s place, but he couldn’t help but make the guy aware his actions had been way over the top.
If he had been his boy, he would’ve been spanked and denied orgasms and Aaron’s cock until Aaron believed he understood. The guy hadn’t been, though, and a verbal reprimand was the best he could do.
Aaron shook his head, knowing he needed to find himself a boy, or someone, to hook up with. He struggled to find someone who pushed his buttons because he was more attracted to a person’s personality than their looks, and many people hid behind a social curtain instead of being themselves. But maybe getting laid would clear his brain.
When Pamela knocked on his door that afternoon with a report from Uma, Aaron was grateful for the interruption.
“Uma says the sub,” Aaron’s heart rate increased atthatword even though the meaning was different, “is amazing, and can she have him forever?” Pamela smirked as they stood there.
Aaron chuckled. “Okay. Could you see if the guy is around so I can have a chat with him, please?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Ten minutes later, Pamela knocked again. “Are you okay to see him now?”
“Sure.”
Aaron closed the file he had been working on and stood from his desk as the guy walked in. As Aaron’s gaze lifted to the guy’s face, he stalled, eyebrows raising. This should be interesting.
“Thank you, Pamela.”
They closed the door behind them. As silence descended, Aaron studied him. The black styled hair; warm, amber-coloured eyes; soft-looking, clean-shaven skin and full lips holding a hint of a smirk.
“We meet again…” Aaron held his hand out as he paused for the guy to finish Aaron’s sentence with his name.
“Zaire…Morgan.” A hand clasped his in a strong but not challenging grip.
“Aaron Brown. Please take a seat.”
They both sat, eyes locked as they sized each other up.
“I apologise for the way I behaved on Friday.”
Aaron wasn’t sure who was more shocked by Zaire’s apology: him or Zaire. He saw Zaire clench his jaw and fidget in his seat, so Aaron took pity on him.
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”
Zaire snorted. “I wish I could say it was a one-time thing,” he rubbed his fingers across his mouth, “but thinking back on previous nights out, it probably wasn’t. I can be…” Zaire paused, his focus moving off to Aaron’s right as he seemed to search for a word.
“Temperamental?” Aaron supplied.
Zaire flicked his gaze back to Aaron and laughed. “Yeah, that pretty much covers it. But only outside of work.” He held his hand palm forward, letting Aaron know he was serious. “Within work, I am reliable and respectable. I keep the two sides separate.”
“So, I’ve heard. You come highly recommended, Zaire. I don’t think those words will inflate your ego any more than it is already,” Aaron declared with a smirk.
