Page 51 of Daddy's Pride
“But, uh, I’d understand if you’re not interested. It’s a big step to take when we’re?—”
He puts his hand over my mouth. “Don’t say strangers, Daddy. We’re not strangers. I’ve spent more time with you in the last four days than with my last boyfriend in as many weeks. I know you. I trust you. I—” He takes my hand, holds my palm against his cheek, and presses into it. “I’d love to get tested so we can catch me and fuck me bare, Daddy. It will be an amazing way to end a wonderful week.” His chin wobbles.
Does he feel the same way as I do? An ache deep in his chest every time he thinks about saying goodbye on Saturday? The ache gets worse with every moment I spend with him. It’s ridiculous. At least, I thought it was until his earnest words crept under my skin and found their way into my heart. We do know each other, and as I learn more about him, I adore him more.
“Is that when you want to do it?” I lean closer to him so his breath warms my face.
“Yes, Daddy. Friday night. Is-is that okay?”
I crush my lips to his and kiss him long and hard. “It’s perfect, boy. Let’s get tested.”
Chapter 11
Harris
Spending time with Miles is easy. He’s fun, caring, attentive, and sexy. Between jogging, decorating, taking photos and making short videos to create a stock of promotional material, and fucking, the week flashes past like lights on a motorway. Before I know it, it’s late on Friday, and I’m bouncing like a kid on Christmas Eve.
Everything is ready. Negative test results. Check. A clear plan of how our play will pan out. Check. A dry evening with clear skies and bright moonlight. Check. Comfortable clothing I can run in, but that’s quick to take off. Check.
“Are you all right?” Miles wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck.
We’re standing to the side of the house, with open land and then the wood in front of us.
“Yes. Excited.”
He chuckles and nips my earlobe. “So am I.”
My pulse quickens. “I’ve never done anything like this. Except for running away from you the other day. I’ve never been hunted by a lover before.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Uh. Yes. Surer than I’ve ever been of anything. It’s going to be hot.”
He nuzzles my jaw. “You get a five-minute head start.”
“Five minutes. Got it.”
“Do you need longer?”
“No.”
“Whenever you’re ready, boy.” He steps away from me.
I blow out a breath, clench and unclench my fists, and take off, my feet pounding over the grass as I hurtle toward the woods. Miles and I have explored every inch of his land during our jogs. My chest burns as I sprint. I want to put distance between us before going to ground. I have no intention of making it easy for him to find me. He has to work for his prize.
I twist and turn, leaving our normal jogging track to plough through undergrowth. Silvery moonlight streams through the canopy, creating an ethereal, spooky atmosphere. Pockets of deep shadows hold snuffling animals. An owl hoots somewhere to my left. My pulse races. My breathing comes in rasps. Has Miles begun the chase yet?
I dart behind a huge oak tree and flatten my back against the rough bark. I fight to calm my breathing. Twigs crack in the distance. Miles. He’s coming this way.
I push away from the tree. I have to jump to avoid twisting roots that seek to trip me up. Sweat makes my T-shirt cling to my body. The air is cool, but running and exhilaration warm me.
I go in circles, retrace my steps, and scrape over my footprints. Anything to lead him on a merry dance. Trees loom around me. Their branches creak and crack in the breeze. Any sense of familiarity with the wood fades away. Miles knows the wood far better than I do. He’s going to hunt me down with ease. Would I mind if he caught me within moments? Yes. I want to be quivering with need and primal terror.
My foot squelches and slides. I pinwheel my arms. Mud splatters my legs. I overbalance and fall onto my knees and hands. Pain jolts through my arms. My teeth clatter together. Cold, squishy, damp seeps through the knees of my jogging bottoms. I jump to my feet and surge forward, arms pumping at my sides.
“Boy!” Miles’s firm voice cracks like a whip through the wood.
I freeze, shoulders hunched. How close is he? It’s impossible to tell. The trees warp the echo of his voice. Run. I have to run.