Page 56 of Melt For Us, Daddy (Big Daddy Energy #4)

Jacob

A lmost a week had passed since his disastrous night at the club, and the days since had been both the happiest and the most stressful days of his life.

The happiest because he’d been able to see what a life with Cordelia and Ivy would be like, long term.

They’d given him some basic rules to follow, made space for him in their closets—which had been something of a feat because holy crap did they have a lot of clothes—and even incorporated him into their daily routines.

Every day was something new to learn about how they operated as a unit and every day he felt a little more like he was becoming a part of that unit.

But the threat of his father still hung over their heads, and it was taking a toll on all of them.

Holden had come to the apartment the morning after their trip to the club and after another heated argument with Cordelia it was decided that Jacob would return to his job cleaning the club.

And although Holden’s men would be close by, watching his every move, he wouldn’t have a guard by his side the way he had before.

The idea was, Holden had explained, to make Jacob’s father think they no longer considered him a threat so he would feel safe enough to risk being seen in broad daylight.

Today was day four of that plan, and as Jacob made his way down the sidewalk from where Cordelia had dropped him off a block away just as she had every other morning, he could feel his nerves fraying with every step.

How long were they going to play this game?

Part of him wished his father would just grab him off the street so they could get the whole thing over with.

Even if he couldn’t see Holden’s men, he trusted that they were there, and he knew he’d be safe if and when his father came for him.

The sooner he made a move, the sooner they could all get on with their lives and he could finally ask Cordelia and Ivy the question he’d been working up the nerve to ask them since the first time they’d all lain together back at the safe house.

But apparently, this was not the day. He made it all the way to the club without incident and he tried his best to put his father out of his mind while he worked.

It surprised him to realize how much he actually enjoyed cleaning.

There was something soothing about it, about the routine and repetition.

Eventually, he wanted a different job, but considering that the only option ever presented to him growing up had been to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a leader of the church, he had no clue exactly what he might want to do with his life.

For now, however, cleaning the club was enough.

It gave him spending money of his own so he didn’t have to feel like he was completely taking advantage of Cordelia and Ivy, and it gave him something to do.

A purpose, and though he knew his father would scoff at it as ‘women’s work’, he knew it was so much more than the menial task the men of the church had made it out to be.

People relied on him to have a safe, clean environment to play, to connect, to be their true selves.

And maybe it was silly, but it felt… important, he decided as he wiped down a spanking bench. He still wasn’t sure exactly why it was called that, or how it worked.

Pausing with his hand on the soft leather, he tilted his head to the side, trying to imagine himself on it. Did the person being spanked just bend over it? Or maybe those two pads were for kneeling?

A quick glance around confirmed he was alone.

His heart raced a bit, even though he didn’t really think Braden would mind if he tried out any of the equipment as long as he cleaned it afterward.

Still, it felt illicit, like he was doing something naughty as he climbed up on the device, his knees settling on the pads as he leaned over the longer piece in the middle to brace his elbows on the other set of pads.

The position left the most vulnerable parts of his body exposed, which he assumed was the point. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine being in this position when the club was open. With a crowd of people around the podium as Cordelia spanked him.

Look at our filthy baby boy, Ivy. Just waiting for us to punish him in front of all these people.

A shiver raced up his spine as his cock hardened, pressing into the leather-padded wood beneath him. In his mind, the fantasy spun out, with both his women circling him as they told him what a naughty, dirty boy he was.

“Your Daddy is going to be very disappointed she didn’t get to see this.”

Eyes flying open, Jacob stared at Braden, horror filling his chest as he pushed up from the bench. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I was just cleaning and I got curious and… sorry.”

Braden waved a hand as if batting away Jacob’s apologies.

“You’re fine. But I would prefer if you didn’t try any of the other equipment without someone around, for safety reasons.

Cordelia may work for me, but just between us I’m more than a little terrified of her and I do not want to have to call her and explain how her boy got hurt on my watch. ”

Heat flooded Jacob’s face. “Yes, Sir. Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Thank you. How’s it going down here? Are you almost done?”

“Just about. The private rooms are done and I just have a few more pieces down here to finish.”

“Perfect. I forgot to let you know I need to leave in about an hour to meet Lottie for our cake tasting. Because apparently ‘Whatever flavor you like’ is not an acceptable answer for wedding cake.”

He looked both exasperated and confused by the whole situation and Jacob had to swallow a laugh. “I can definitely be finished by then, Sir.”

“Excellent. I’ll let Holden know we’re both leaving early so his men can be ready for you.”

It took him less than half the allotted hour to finish up downstairs and stash his cleaning equipment in the closet at the back of the club.

Pushing open the door to Braden’s office after a perfunctory knock, he poked his head inside.

“I’m going to wait out back, if that’s okay. Get a little fresh air.”

“Don’t blame you. Those chemicals can get a little overwhelming. I’ll be right behind you, just need to finish going over this estimate for these cages I commissioned for the new pet-play room. You wait right outside the door for me and don’t go wandering.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Pulling the door shut behind him, he let his mind wander to the new room Braden had been talking about.

Ever since he’d asked Cordelia and Ivy exactly what ‘pet play’ entailed, he hadn’t been able to get the concept out of his mind.

What would it be like to be a puppy or a kitten, crawling around after his women as they led him around on a leash?

Embarrassing, he was sure, but part of him wanted the humiliation.

Craved it the way he craved Cordelia’s purring dominance or Ivy’s soft touch.

The fantasy kept his mind plenty occupied as he made his way out the back door, dragging in a deep breath as soon as he stepped outside.

Braden was right that the smell of the chemicals he used for cleaning tended to get overwhelming after a while and most days he ended up with a mild headache before he left the club.

The fresh air helped clear most of the ache away and he let his eyes close as he pulled in another fresh lungful of air.

“Hello, Jacob.”

Panic and fear wound twin tendrils around his lungs, squeezing the oxygen from them as he slowly forced his eyelids open. Forced himself to look into the eyes of the man who had tormented him and his sisters for so long.

He looked… Ragged was the only word that came to mind.

As though he hadn’t slept or showered in several days.

From the wrinkled suit to the scruffy beard on his normally clean-shaven jaw, he had the look of a man who’d been fighting for his life.

Figuratively and potentially literally depending on how things were going down with grandfather being so near death.

Although it was generally accepted that Harlan would step into Silas’s role after his death, he had plenty of brothers willing to fight him for the mantle.

“Hello, Father.”

Even looking as haggard as he did, Harlan Redding still managed a smug smile as he slowly approached. “I see you still remember who I am. Who you are.”

“Of course I remember. I never forgot.”

“I’d wondered, since you’ve been spending so much time with that whore, Esther.”

Fury erupted in his veins, burning away the icy fingers of fear that had threatened to choke him. “Her name is Cordelia. And if you want to walk away from this conversation with all your teeth intact, you’ll keep her name out of your mouth.”

If he’d hoped to intimidate his father, the attempt fell flat. If anything, Harlan only grinned wider, his eyes flaring with something that almost looked like approval. “Well, well, well. It seems my son has finally managed to grow a backbone. I suppose the whore has done you a favor, after all.”

“Call her a whore one more time and I’ll?—”

The slap caught him off guard. Not only because his father had never struck him like that before, but because he hadn’t realized he was close enough to do so until the back of Harlan’s hand connected with his cheek.

Pain radiated through his face, and his vision went black at the edges for a moment as he stared at the ground, struggling to breathe through the pain.

“You dare to threaten God’s holiest Prophet? If you weren’t my son, I’d have you locked away in a cage, forced to drink your own piss as repentance. That option isn’t entirely off the table, so I’d keep that in mind if I were you. I can always have another son.”

The laugh burst out of him, sharp and bitter. “If you could, you would have already. And yet, you only have me.”