Page 81 of Penalty Zone
I maneuver him under the warm spray, lathering up my hands, then wash his underarms. His abs quiver under my touch, and I avoid his hard dick, kneeling to wash his legs and feet. When he lifts each foot, I pummel his arch with the heel of my palm.
“I could come from that alone.” He steadies himself on my shoulder.
“Don’t you dare,” I say as sternly as I can. “Step forward.” I rinse his front, then spin him to face me. “Half clean. Tip your head back.”
After his hair is wet, I step in between him and the water to shampoo his hair. He’s putty in my hands as I massage his scalp.
“Have I told you today that I love you?” he asks.
“I love you with all that I am.” I step back and allow the water to wash the shampoo down the drain. “Do you want conditioner?”
“You spoil me.” He smiles with his eyes closed.
I leave the conditioner in while I order him to put his hands on the side wall and bend at the waist. The water adds to the sound of the satisfying slap.
“Thank you,” he whimpers, spreading his legs and bending deeper.
“You want Daddy to turn your ass red?” I strike again, and it stings my palm.
“Please,” he keens.
“You’re doing so good.” I pepper his ass with a combination of taps and hard blows. “Daddy loves how pretty you look.” His cock leaks precum, and I’m on fire, ready to bury myself in him. “Let me finish washing you, and then you can lie on my bed and show me how much you love my marks on you.”
“Yes, please.” He stands and rinses his hair while I soap up his ass and dick.
“I can’t wait until I have days with you all to myself instead of hours.” I lead him from the shower and dry him.
“What’s that?” he asks when my buzzer rings.
“Probably the food delivery.” I shrug into my bathrobe and check my phone. Strange, there’s no alert. “Get in bed, and I’ll be in after I put the groceries away.” I peck his pump lips and answer the buzzer, but no one’s there.
I wait another minute, and as I turn toward the bedroom to claim Caleb again, there’s a knock on my door. Instead of a delivery person, Mason strides past me into the apartment.
“Hey, Dad. Got a minute?” Mason eyes my bathrobe, the state of the kitchen, and sees two plates in the living room with two glasses of water.
“Actually, there’s something—”
“There’s someone here.” He smiles and backs toward the door.
I’m torn between stopping him and telling him the truth, and letting him leave without an explanation.
“Leo, is this for me?” Caleb comes into view, holding the towel around his waist with one hand and twirling a purple jock strap around his finger. He yelps and, in his haste to run, he lets go of the towel so Mason sees my handprints on his ass.
“What. The. Fuck!” Mason explodes.
Chapter 36
Caleb
Holy-fucking-mother-of-earth-tit-shit. Mason hates me. I search for my clothes, but it’s hard to see and there isn’t enough air to breathe.
Mason hates me.
He never gets really mad, and he’s pissed, snarling at me.
Clothes. I can’t explain naked.
Leo’s going to leave me because Mason hates me.
