Page 35 of Wrestling with Daddy

“Or this thing is off,” he tried to answer as nonplussed as possible.

He walked toward the restaurant’s double doors before his face could betray him. He knew that his poker face wasn’t as good as it used to be.

“Seriously?” Nathan spluttered, following him into the restaurant after only a few seconds. “I mean, I understand there’ll be things you don’t want me to fight you on, but asking before I kiss you seems oddly specific.”

“It’s not about the specific request; it’s about showing respect and following orders.”

“But that’s not fun!”

There was a hint of hesitation before he finished the petulant exclamation, though, one that gave Ken pause and made him turn around before the waitress reached them to guide them to their table.

“Are you sure about that, boy?”

“But like…” They were already seated before Nathan spoke again, a laminated menu in front of each of them. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth. “Am I really supposed to ask if I can kiss you every time?”

“A ‘May I kiss you Sir’ or ‘May I kiss you Daddy’ would work. You can start practicing after we’ve had our food.”

Ken was teasing, he thought. That was certainly a rule, a protocol, that he’d never endured with a sub, past life or not. He’d just needed to say something to gain back control, to reel himself in from the desire and pent up frustrations running through his veins as he took in the daring boy in front of him.

The brat who could be everything or envelop him in flames like history repeating itself, with no one to blame but Ken himself.

“It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“How hot you’ve just made it sound,” Nathan grumbled before he was adjusting himself in his seat.

Ken smirked.

Perhaps his need for control, for setting protocols and more rules than he usually cared for, would end up benefiting them both.

“Good.” He nodded, diverting his attention to the menu. “Anything you especially recommend? It was your suggestion, after all.”

“Aren’t you going to take over and order for the both of us?”

Ken snorted. “Not when I’ve never been here, and I don’t even know if you have any allergies.”

“Oh.” Nathan’s mouth opened, then closed. He repeated the action a few times. “We should share their Supreme Nachos. I didn’t eat anything before coming here. But I don’t have any allergies. That I know.”

“Noted.”

From his quick glance at the different plates offered, Ken hadn’t seen anything he’d dislike, so he simply raised a hand to wave the waitress over and let Nathan order.

He was impressed when the boy asked for non-alcoholic margaritas after a quick but heated gaze in his direction.

“You come here often?”

“Maybe once a week or so,” Nathan admitted. “Probably not the best finance decision, but I’m also not the best cook, so…”

“Is that something you’re happy with?”

Cooking had always been Ken’s task when he’d lived with his parents, and it had remained his go-to activity when he wanted to turn off his brain for a while and hitting the clubs wasn’t an option.

He couldn’t say he’d be a great teacher, but part of being a Dom, in his book, had always been figuring out what the sub’s needs and wants were, both in and outside a sexual dynamic.

“I’m not itching to join a cooking class if that’s what you’re asking.” Nathan ran a hand through his tousled hair, laughter in his voice. “To be honest, I’d probably burn down the building or something.”

“Why would you do that?”