Page 7 of Wrestling with Daddy

Now that he was moving out with a Sir of his own, Parker sounded even more insufferable. Nathan hadn’t thought it possible.

“So when are you gonna let one of the guys fuck you, Nate?”

Nathan hissed. Most of his relatives abbreviated his name, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“If I wanted to be fucked, I’d just go on Grindr.”

“Is that it?” Parker scoffed, perfectly poised while everyone was sweating bullets around him, carrying boxes and running up and down the stairs. Nathan was sure half of them wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t because Parker’s Dom was one of the founding members of the community, and no one wanted bad blood spread. “Your standards too high?”

At first, when Parker had gotten on his last nerve like this, Nathan had just wished to himself that his Dom would break up with him soon. Given that they were moving together and had a collaring celebration in a couple of months, though, Nathan had given up that hope.

“If only.”

He didn’t have high standards, but he also didn’t want to get into it with Parker of all people.

“Hey, Nathan,” Marcus—another Dom in the community—greeted him as he walked past the main door, where Parker had him trapped. “Wanna take a break outside? I’ll take over.”

“Appreciate it, Sir.”

Marcus was one of the few Doms who dared to speak an ill word about Parker and his entourage. Nathan guessed he must’ve slipped at some point and let his distaste be known.

Or maybe Marcus had some ulterior motive to want some one-on-one time with Parker.

It wasn’t Nathan’s problem, though.

He even bowed his head down as he walked out, because he could have manners and respect protocols when he wanted to.

The atmosphere felt definitely less oppressive once he was outside of the building and sitting by the crosswalk, away from the moving truck and the couple of guys who had noticed him stepping away.

Nathan didn’t care enough to explain anything to them.

He cared more about the text he’d not surprisingly missed with all the trekking up and down.

Daddy

What makes you think you’ve earned the right to call me Daddy?

Fuck.

Nathan slumped down, his head hitting a wired fence, but not loud enough to alert anyone.

He hadn’t thought anything of it when he was teasing the man, but apparently he couldn’t stop putting his foot in his mouth lately.

Was that what his boss had meant when he’d said a change of scenery would do him good, while convincing him he was the perfect person for the South Lake Tahoe stunt?

Nathan

you’re a Daddy Dom according to your profile. I can call you something else, but I don’t think of honorifics as a right to be earned. It would be different if I was calling you my Daddy

which I’m not

Daddy

Nice save, brat

Nathan shook his head. He’d just started talking—writing—out of his ass, but he guessed he couldn’t complain if another crisis had been averted.

He definitely couldn’t tell Ken how he had listed him in his contacts with simply that honorific.