Their Boy (The Game 2)

Maybe it was good enough. Daddy rose to his feet and picked me up.

I kind of checked out. I existed in flashes of brutal pain and glimpses of what was happening around me. Daddy’s low murmurs, the couch was there, Daddy left, but then he was back. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and I was so sorry.

Something wet and cold touched my buttocks. I gasped and groaned and cried. Daddy cradled me to him—on the couch, I was pretty sure—and held what I assumed was a cold towel on my butt.

“Let it all out, baby.” He rocked me slowly, and he pressed light kisses to my damp forehead. “Daddy’s here, okay? I’ve got you.”

He couldn’t leave. I couldn’t let him. I cuddled as close as I possibly could, and I kept apologizing as my cries died down.

“Shh, all’s forgiven, little one,” he murmured. “That’s the beauty of punishments, innit? Soon as it’s over, it’s over.”

“Promise?” I croaked. My heart rate was finally slowing down. I could breathe again, even though every intake of air sounded hitched and hiccuppy.

“I promise.” He brushed his knuckles over my cheek and wiped away some tears. “Do you think you can stand?”

“Already?” I whined.

He flashed a small smile. “Only for a few minutes. I thought we’d take a quick shower together, and then I can put the lotion on you.”

I sniffled and let my eyes flutter closed. “I wanna nap, please…”

“Oh, there will be a nap. Naps and cuddles are mandatory after punishments. But after the shower. Then I won’t have to worry about you scratching your skin off.”

Ugh, fine.

He cared about me. I wasn’t going to argue. He and Lucas made me so happy.

“I have the best Daddies,” I whispered instead. “Even when you’re a pain in my butt.”

Daddy chuckled warmly and kissed the top of my head. “And we have the best little boy. Especially when we’re a pain in your butt.”

I giggled.* * *I, Kit Daniel Damien, had just used my very own SmarTrip card.

Booyah!

I was so nervous, and probably squeezing Lucas’s hand too hard, but I was excited. There were people literally everywhere. It was DC on an early Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer. Tourist alert!

We were supposed to go earlier. Then I fucked up doing laundry, and Lucas had to help me bleach sheets. I had not seen that my dark-blue Superman briefs had been in there.

“Can we get ice cream later?” I asked. Ice cream was a must for where we were going.

Colt, who was walking two steps ahead, looked back at us over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take a goddamn bath in ice cream after this hot hell.”

I grinned and crossed my eyes at him.

He did the same, making me snicker.

“Watch your step, dear.” Lucas cautioned me as we reached the platform and I almost tripped over a child. Oops.

“Pretty drawings.” The little girl pointed to my arm and tugged on her mother’s hand. “Look, Mommy.”

I mustered an awkward smile, still not used to the attention, still not used to people seeing tattoos and not scars.

Lucas kissed the top of my head, then nodded at the dark tunnel at the end. “Train’s coming in.”

This was it. We were going to take the Metro to visit the Lincoln Memorial, and we were departing from one of the stations that was closest…and going to the other station that was closest. Lucas was sure Foggy Bottom—giggle—was closest, and Colt was certain that the Smithsonian was our best option. But since there would be no going on the Metro at all if we went with Lucas’s route, the Smithsonian won. We’d just end up at the same place from another direction.

My heart pitter-pattered as the train slowed to a squeaky and screechy stop, and then everybody was moving. People poured out of the train, and the air became stuffier. I kept my hand firmly in Lucas’s and vowed to apologize later if I broke any bones.

“We’re not going to miss it, are we?” I asked worriedly.

“No, it’s almost our turn. See?” Lucas pointed at something.

He was forgetting that he was almost a head taller than me.

I did see when Colt was the next person to board the train, however, and I dragged Lucas along half a second later. Phew. We made it. It was so crowded in here, but we were on the train now. It wouldn’t depart without us.

I stood right at the doors, and they freaking shook when the train rolled away from the platform. Jesus Christ. I sandwiched myself between Colt and Lucas.

I had to settle for holding on to them. There was no handrail in sight, except for above me, and that only looked easy for Colt. I did appreciate how his biceps bulged when the train jostled.

“Is it everything you thought it would be?” Lucas asked, amused.