Page 22 of Kash
I laugh, a harsh sound that echoes in the small room.
“You think you’re gonna save me, boy?” I laugh. “This ain’t a skatepark trick you can pull off with a grin and some luck.”
His eyes flash, that reckless spark I’m starting to crave.
“I’m not an idiot, Kash,” Spike snaps back. “I know this town—every alley, every hideout. I can throw them off. Spread some bullshit at the skatepark, say I saw a biker heading north to the state line. Get them looking somewhere else.”
I stare at him, my mind racing.
It’s not a bad idea.
Cresthaven’s small, and gossip spreads like wildfire.
If Spike plants a rumor, it could buy me a day, maybe two. But it’s risky—too risky for him.
“You open your mouth, you’re painting a target on your back,” I say, my voice hard. “The Vipers don’t play games, and neither do the cops they’ve bought. You get caught spreading lies, they’ll come for you.”
“I can handle it,” Spike says, his chin tilting up, all defiance and no fear. “I’m not some kid you need to babysit, Daddy.”
That word—Daddy—hits me like a spark, igniting the heat in my gut. I step into his space, close enough to feel his breath, my hand itching to grab him.
“You keep pushing, boy,” I growl. “You’re gonna find out just how much I can handle you.”
Spike grins, undaunted, his green eyes locked on mine. “Promise?”
Fuck. He’s gonna be the death of me. I grab his wrist, pulling him against me, my other hand gripping his jaw.
“You don’t get it, Spike. This isn’t a game. You’re playing with fire, and I’m not gonna let you burn. Listen. It’s a good idea. You spread the rumor. Say you saw a biker heading north, near the old quarry. But you do it careful—no names, no details. And you come straight back here after. No detours. Got it?”
Spike nods, but his smirk says he’s already planning to bend the rules.
“Yes, Daddy,” he says, the word dripping with mischief, and I nearly lose it right there.
“Don’t test me,” I warn, my hand tightening on his wrist. “You break my rules again, and last night’s spanking will feel like a fucking silky caress.”
Spike’s eyes darken, a flush creeping up his neck, and I can see the memory of that punishment—his ass over my lap, his cock hard between my legs—playing in his mind.
“The spanking wasn’t even that bad,” Spike says, clearly trying to push my buttons.
I know I shouldn’t let him reel me in so easily, but I can’t help myself.
My control snaps. I push him against the wall, my body pinning his, my lips crashing into his.
The kiss is hard, hungry, all the frustration and want I’ve beenholding back pouring out. Spike moans into my mouth, his hands gripping my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I taste salt and rebellion, the same fire that drew me to him that first day at the pier.
My hands slide under his tank top, feeling the taut muscles of his stomach. The boy is all defiance and need, and I want to claim every inch of him.
I break the kiss, my chest heaving, and grab his hips, turning him to face the wall.
“You want stern, boy?” I growl, my voice thick with desire. “You’re gonna get it.” My hand slides to his shorts, tugging them down just enough to expose his briefs, the same ones I yanked down last night.
Spike gasps, his body arching back against me, and I can feel how much he wants this.
“You broke my rules,” I say, my hand resting on his ass, feeling the warmth from last night’s spanking. “You came here without permission, didn’t you?”
“Y-yeah,” he stammers, his voice shaky but eager. “But I had to warn you, Daddy.”
