Page 4 of Jace (Wolf Rider MC Daddies #2)

Caleb

“Let’s goooo !” I holler, surprising myself at how loud I shout.

But maybe that’s to be expected…

The world is a blur of wind and thunder. My arms are locked around Jace’s waist, my cheek pressed against the leather of his vest, and the Harley’s roar vibrates through my bones.

I’ve never felt anything like this—wild, reckless, alive in a way that terrifies and thrills me all at once.

The road stretches out ahead, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through Willow Creek’s outskirts, and the fading sun paints the sky in hues of orange and pink.

I should be back at school, grading essays, safe in my quiet life…

Instead, I’m here, clinging to a tattooed biker who’s everything I’ve always avoided. And God help me, I don’t want to let go.

And just like that evening at the bar, I’m already embarrassingly hard. My cock is straining and pulsing, loving every second of this ride. Maybe it’s the engine’s vibrations, or maybe it’s who I’m holding onto…

Jace’s body is solid under my hands, all muscle and heat, and I’m hyper-aware of every shift he makes—leaning into curves, throttling the engine, commanding the bike like it’s an extension of him.

Jace’s scent—leather, smoke, and something raw and masculine—cuts through the rush of air, and it’s doing things to my head I’m not ready to admit.

When he showed up at my classroom, all cocky charm and danger, I should’ve said no. One ride, I told myself, just to prove I’m not as predictable as he thinks.

But now, with my thighs pressed against his and my heart pounding like a drum, I’m not sure who I’m proving anything to…

The bike slows, and Jace veers off the main road onto a dirt path, the tires crunching over gravel. My stomach flips—not just from the change in terrain, but from the realization that we’re alone now, far from the school, the bar, the world I know.

Jace pulls into a clearing, a secluded lookout overlooking Willow Creek’s rolling hills, the town’s lights twinkling faintly below. The engine cuts off, and the sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the chirp of crickets and my own ragged breathing.

Jace swings off the bike, offering me a hand.

“You good, boy?” His voice is low, rough, with that commanding edge that makes my knees weak.

I nod, but my legs are shaky as I dismount, my fingers brushing his. His hand is warm, calloused, and the brief contact sends a jolt through me.

“That was… intense,” I manage, pushing my glasses up my nose, trying to regain some semblance of control, and all the while trying to adjust my trousers so that my all-too-obvious boner is at least partially hidden.

Jace chuckles, a deep sound that feels like it could unravel me.

“Told you. Nothing like it.” He steps closer, his eyes locked on mine, and I feel the weight of his gaze, like he’s seeing every thought I’m trying to hide. “You held on tight, though. Not bad for a first-timer.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips.

“Don’t get cocky,” I shoot back. “I’m still deciding if this was a terrible idea.”

“Oh, it’s a terrible idea,” Jace says, his grin wicked. “But you’re here, aren’t you?”

Damn, he’s good.

Maybe too good.

But I can’t argue with that. I turn away, walking to the edge of the lookout to steady myself, the cool evening air a relief against my flushed skin.

The view is beautiful, all soft hills and distant lights, but it’s Jace who’s got my attention.

He’s leaning against the bike, lighting a cigarette, the flame casting shadows across his sharp jaw.

His tattoos peek out from under his sleeves, and the wolf skull patch on his vest reminds me who he is—a Wolf Rider, a man whose world is built on danger and defiance.

I should be running, but I know that I’m going nowhere.

“Why teaching?” Jace asks, surprising me. He takes a drag, the smoke curling around him like a ghost. “You’re smart, Caleb. Could’ve been a lawyer, a doctor, some big shot. You could be earning those big bucks. Driving a Porsche. All that fancy shit. So why teaching, and why here?”

I blink, caught off guard by the question.

Nobody’s asked me that, not really. I wrap my arms around myself, the breeze chilling my skin.

“I wanted to make a difference,” I say, the words feeling small but true. “Not in some courtroom or hospital, but with kids who need someone to believe in them. I don’t need money. Not really. But it’s not like it’s an easy life. Willow Creek’s not exactly a fairy tale, you know.”

He nods, his eyes softening just a fraction. “Yeah. I know.”

There’s a weight to his words, like he’s seen the town’s underbelly in ways I never will.

I want to ask—about his life, his scars, the club—but the intensity in his gaze stops me.

Jace flicks the cigarette away, closing the distance between us, and my breath catches as his hand brushes my thigh, a fleeting touch that feels deliberate.

“You’re different, Caleb,” Jace says, his voice low, intimate. “Most people around here, they’re just surviving. You’re… living for something . I…”

My heart stumbles. He’s so close now, his heat cutting through the cool air, and I’m torn between stepping back and leaning in.

“And you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you living for?”

He smirks, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—conflict, maybe.

“The ride. The danger. The…” Jace says. “Who the hell knows.”

“Come on, you can do better,” I say, a hint of sass in my voice. “I want to give you a B+ but right now you’re scraping a C-.”

He steps even closer, his hand resting on my hip now, firm and possessive.

“Fine, I’ll answer Mr. Teacher,” Jace says, his voice low. “Right now? Right now, I’m living for you, boy.”

My cheeks burn, and I’m glad for the dim light hiding my blush.

Jace’s touch is bold, commanding, and it sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the breeze. I should pull away, but my body betrays me, leaning into his warmth.

“Jace,” I start, but his name comes out softer than I mean it to, like a plea.

“Hush,” Jace murmurs, his thumb brushing my hip, slow and deliberate. “Don’t think so hard. Just feel .”

And then he kisses me. His lips are firm, demanding, tasting of smoke and whiskey, and it’s like the world falls away.

My hands find his chest, gripping his leather vest, and I kiss him back, tentative at first, then hungrier, matching his intensity.

Jace’s hand slides up my back, pulling me closer, and I feel the hard muscular tone of his body, the strength that could break or protect. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and I’m drowning in him—his scent, his heat, the way he takes control like it’s his right.

This is something else. It’s something I’ve dreamed of but never dared to admit to myself…

But just as I’m losing myself, Jace’s phone buzzes, loud and insistent.

Jace freezes, cursing under his breath, and pulls back, leaving me breathless and reeling. My lips tingle, my body humming with need, but the moment’s gone.

He checks his phone, his jaw tightening, and I see it—the shift from Jace, the man who just kissed me senseless, to Jace, the Wolf Rider.

“Trouble?” I ask, my voice shaky, trying to ground myself.

“Yeah,” he says, his tone clipped. “Club shit. Gotta go.”

The disappointment stings, but so does the sense of fear washing over me. The way he says “club shit,” like it’s more than a bar fight or a bad deal… it makes my stomach twist.

I’ve heard whispers about the Wolf Riders—drugs, guns, blood. The whole package. The kind of things that I don’t ever need to be associated to or come into contact with.

And yet. I want to ask, to know what I’m getting into, but his expression is closed off now, all business.

But I can’t let it go. I have to know more…

“Wait, you can’t just leave and not say why,” I say, hands on hips.

“I told you… club shit,” Caleb says, evidently unimpressed with my continued questioning.

“And I told you , I want to know more!” I snap, rolling my eyes.

“Last chance, boy,” Jace answers, his patience wearing thin. “Ask me again, and I’ll have you over the side of the Harley with your pants around your ankles and that ass glowing redder than a tomato.”

“ Pffft . Right, okay, sure,” I say, my cheeks flushing red and my voice wavering despite my show of bravado. “I don’t think so. Tell me. Tell me now. What is this business?”

Before I know it, Jace has taken me by the hand and marched me over toward the motorcycle. This can’t be happening, can it?

“Safeword,” Jace says. “I need a safeword, boy.”

“Falafel,” I blurt out, not knowing why I’m consenting to this madness other than it just… kind of feels natural.

Jace grunts and nods, but before I can say anything else, he yanks my trousers down and leaves them at my ankles.

“Jace, please!” I beg. “What… what if someone sees?”

“Well they’ll see a boy getting his ass spanked for disobeying a Daddy,” Jace says, a hint of menace in his voice.

This is scary. It’s wild. But I’m into it… I think.

I gasp as Jace pulls my briefs down and wastes no time in landing the first spank, my left buttock jiggling as Jace cracks his hand, hard and flat.

“ Yowwww !” I call out, my voice disappearing into the night as Jace lands the second spank, this time on my right cheek. “That hurts!”

“You’ve got your safeword if you need it,” Jace says, pausing for a moment to allow me to use it. “I thought so. Time to get things moving. I don’t have all night.”

I look down as Jace lands a swift double spank and see that my dick is fully erect and rubbing up against the leather of the motorcycle seat.

There’s something about being in such an exposed, vulnerable position that’s making me all kinds of horny, and that’s not even factoring the reality that I’m being spanked by a devilishly handsome, dangerous biker.

“And that… is just about… that!” Jace roars, landing the final two spanks and making me yelp in pain, grateful for a cool breeze as it passes through and takes a tiny bit of the heat off my glowing butt cheeks.

“Jace… I…” I say. “Thank you. That feels… different. But good. I don’t know. I’ve never been spanked before.”

“Well you know what to do if you want more,” Jace says, a knowing smile on his face. “In the meantime, we need to ride. And ride fast. But before you pull those briefs back up, allow me to get some cream on those cheeks to cool them down a little.”

I turn my head and let out a gasp as Jace takes a pot of cooling gel out of the small compartment at the rear of the Harley.

“I think that’ll help,” I smile, letting out a giggle as Jace applies the cream to my butt, one cheek at a time.

“Yup, it’ll do it,” Jace says, busily ensuring that my entire ass is covered with the gel. “But now’s not the time to talk. We need to move.”

And with that, Jace pulls up my briefs and trousers and we’re back on the bike again.

This is all so new to me, but I’ve got a feeling that this won’t be the last time Jace takes his hand to my ass, and I’m not complaining either…