Page 115 of My Responsibility
I straighten up against the counter, but I don't step away from it. I couldn't if I tried. He always makes me fucking nervous.
One of his eyebrows goes up in that ridiculously sexy way only he can muster. He lets the silence stretch. He's good at this, at letting the quiet do the work, letting me fill it with my own heartbeat, my own breathing, my own imagination running ahead to what's coming, my own cock hardening.
"You two made quite the spectacle today," he says with that magnificent low voice that sometimes becomes almost a growl, which produces a spectacular heat that makes my skin tighten. "Aren't you lucky I can't punish you, Jack?" he asks him, ignoring me.
Jack laughs from somewhere behind me, then to me: "You're fucked. Daddy is angry."
My cock throbs. Instant. Embarrassing. I press my hips back against the counter.
Ethan doesn't react to Jack. Doesn't break eye contact with me and now he’s grinning like the Joker, which is scarier than his serious face. He takes a step closer.
"Do you think what you did in here was acceptable behavior?" he asks, quietly. Looking only at me.
"No," I say. It comes out barely above a whisper. I want tosound brave. I never sound brave when he's like this.
"No, what?"
"No, Daddy."
His eyes darken, my cock throbs, and he takes another step. He's close enough now that I can feel the warmth radiating off his body, and I really fucking want to hug his waist, but I stop myself. My breathing is shallow and fast and I can't control it. His hand lifts. I think he's going to touch me, my face, my neck, anywhere, please, but instead he places it flat on the counter beside my hip. His thumb is half an inch from my body.
"Mm." He leans closer. His lips brush the shell of my ear, and every nerve ending in my body fires at once, a full-body shudder I can't suppress. His breath is warm against my skin when he speaks. "Cleaning the cafeteria wasn't enough. You know that, right?"
I swallow. My throat clicks. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." His hand comes up, finally, and his fingers trace along my jaw, feather-light, a touch so gentle it's almost worse than if he grabbed me. Iwanthim to grab me. He gives me only the tip and I want the whole thing. "...you're going to come to my office during rec time tonight. And I'm going to give you proper discipline. Since Griff clearly went easy on you."
My blood goes hot. I can feel my face flushing, feel the heat spreading down my neck and into my chest, and lower, unmistakably lower. I try to meet his eyes and can't because I’m so fucking embarrassed in the best way possible. I try again and his green eyes are dark, pupils wide, and there's something in them that's predatory and absolutely certain of what he's doing to me. He loves to tease me like that, it's the most fun he has.
"Yes, Daddy," I whisper.
He pulls back just enough to look at my face. His eyes drop to my mouth. They stay there for two full seconds, long enough that I feel my lips part on their own, long enough that I lean forward an inch before catching myself. He sees it. A flicker crosses his face, and it’s a hungry expression.
His thumb brushes my lower lip. Then he steps back. Straightens his shirt. Adjusts his expression back to neutral. I don’t know how he can fucking do that. It’s like he’s another Ethan, one second to the other, and I’m always the same messy Liam, clearly shaken by him, clearly unable to play it cool, ever.
"Good boy," he murmurs. "Finish up here," he says, normal volume. "And stay out of the kitchen. Both of you."
"Yes, boss," Jack jokes, fake-saluting.
Ethan turns and walks away. The cafeteria doors open and close behind him.
I stay pressed against the counter. Palms flat on the surface. Heartbeat so loud I can hear it in my ears. My whole body is buzzing, blood too hot. Fuck.
Jack gives me one of his cheeky smirks.
"Don't," I say.
"Didn't say anything."
"Don't."
He grins. I'm going to die before rec time.
I replay his words for the rest of the day. Every single one.Proper discipline. Good boy. The way his mouth moved next to my ear. The almost-touch that was worse than touching. The hunger in his eyes when he looked at my lips.
I can't focus on anything else. How would I ever be able to?
