Hitman Daddy by Aster Rae

9

Christian

Daddy.

I wake up early tangled in my sheets.

I'm holding my favorite stuffy and blushing like I never have in my life.

It's been five days since the barbecue and I think about Nikolai every day.

I thought I'd forget him by now.

Ha.

Apparently, that's not how my heart works.

I remind myself that we’re only business partners and that he'll never be my real Daddy but it doesn't do any good.

No matter how hard I try I can't get him out of my mind.

"Gah."

Warm fuzzies overwhelm me as I peel back my favorite dinosaur onesie and untuck my cock.

My cock is slick and red and I know that I need to jerk off before my shift if I'm going to get Nikolai out of my head.

Pushing my stuffy to the side, I wrap my fingers around my cock and let out a moan as I sink into my pillow.

In my fantasy, Nikolai’s big and strong and he's the perfect man to keep the scary monsters at bay.

"Fuck."

A deep groan escapes me as I jerk my shaft harder.

I grab a tube of lube from my nightstand and squirt a generous amount on my cock.

The sensation is instantaneous and the silky warmth lights me up inside.

I picture Nikolai ripping off his expensive shirt and laying me down on this very bed.

"I want you, Christian. I know this is a business arrangement but you're unlike any boy I've ever met. I'm a greedy bastard and I can't let you say no to me. Spread those fucking legs. Spread for Daddy.”

Uncontrollable moans tumble out of my mouth as I spread my legs and jerk my shaft.

The scent of strawberry fills my nose as squelching echoes through the air.

I picture Nikolai squirting lube into my hole and sliding his fingers inside.

He's dark. Dangerous. But he's an experienced man who knows what I like.

I jerk my cock faster as I picture Nikolai rutting his hardness against my tiny little ass.

Ferocious growls tear out of my mouth as he slides his throbbing cock into my channel.

"You're so fucking tight, Christian. I adore how you saved that tight little hole for me."

"You like it, Daddy?"

"Yes. You're the sexiest fuck I've ever met. Now spread those perfect cheeks."

My climax slams into me like a freight train.

A fire starts in my gut and simmers across my loins.

Jets of come shoot out of my trembling cock and explode onto my tummy.

"Fuck me, Daddy."

Panting heavily, I moan as my orgasm courses through me.

Nikolai – the Nikolai of my fantasy — is right. This is the best orgasm I've ever had.

The best part? He allowed me to call him Daddy.

Daddy.

Who would've thought that one little word could open a whole new world for me?

When I finish squirting, I mop up my load and hop in the shower.

I scrub my body and fantasize about Nikolai putting his manly hands all over me.

It's so pathetic because I know I'll only get hurt in the end but I can't help but allow myself the luxury.

In my fantasy, Nikolai wants to be so much more than my fake boyfriend.

He wants something real.

Tangible.

He wants to be my protector and keep the scary world at bay.

I know I’m safe in Nikolai's arms.

If only it weren't make-believe.

***

When I change, I head downstairs to grab breakfast.

"Where are you going?" Tristan asks through a mouthful of Cheerios.

"I'm meeting my coworker Rowan for the first time outside work. We're going to talk about little things."

Tristan flashes me a thumbs up. "I hope you meet a Daddy."

Tristan is so supportive. I love him for that.

For the first time, I don't feel jealous of Tristan for being so much more attractive than me.

He's a great friend. And it's not like he asked to have such killer genes.

After downing a cup of coffee and a bowl of strawberries, I hop on my bike to meet Rowan.

It's a beautiful day in the Bronx. A light breeze is a perfect counterbalance to the morning sun.

I inhale deeply and smell the familiar fragrant scent of apple blossoms and taste the delicious strawberries I had for breakfast.

My hair ruffles in the breeze as a beautiful chorus of wind rustles through the elm trees.

I start to sweat but I refuse to complain.

Winter in New York is pretty much like winter in Antarctica but without the Penguins.

I live in hell eight months out of the year and suffer through countless freezing months.

I buy expensive coats and fur-lined gloves but even the most luxurious Patagonia gear can't keep out the chills.

That's why I implemented my "no complaining about summer" policy two years ago.

Yeah, I wish the wind wouldn't screw up my hairdo, and I wish I wouldn't sweat.

But I'll take messed-up hair and a sweaty shirt over icicles any day.

When I arrive at Ashwood Park with Rowan, my hair looks like a mess but I don't give a fuck.

"Your hair’s seen better days,” Rowan quips.

"Thanks for the heads up." I lock my bike up with the lock Tristan gave me after his mom bought him a brand-new Marin bicycle last fall. "I have bigger fish to fry."

We roll out a Mexican blanket and pull out our snacks.

My tummy rumbles as I pick up a juice box and a pack of Zebra cakes and dig in.

"This is so good." I blow out a breath as I sip the apple juice and take a bite of the pastry.

My mother bought these pastries when I was little.

But my father stopped purchasing them when I graduated pre-school.

I haven't had them since I was five.

Rowan nods. "This is the life. No shifts until Monday and there's enough sun to get a tan. Can life get any better?"

"Yes," I groan, my cheeks flushing. "The universe could give me a Daddy."

"You and me both." Rowan lets out a laugh. "How's it going with Mr. Dangerous Russian?"

I smile at Rowan. He's wearing blue coveralls with jeans shorts and a fluffy white T-shirt underneath. His dark hair is quaintly gelled to one side and his LGBT rainbow necklace glistens in the sunlight.

A pang of warmth shoots through me for my friend.

Rowan is so sweet and he looks adorable AF.

If he can't find a protector, there's no way I can.

"It's going," I say at last, taking a big bite of the Zebra cake. "I went to a barbecue at Nikolai's brother’s house last week and met his family. We drank, laughed, and had a good time. He introduced me to everyone and I met his incredibly sexy brothers. But he made it clear that this is still a business relationship and nothing more."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I sent him a text joking that I wanted to drink milk from his bottle. He either didn't get the message or thought I was messing around. Whatever the case, he isn't my Daddy."

I recall the way Nikolai and I texted at the party.

A thrill zings through me as I remember how it made me feel.

It was like we almost had a secret connection or something that no one knew about. We texted and his brothers had no clue.

Rowan sighs. "It doesn't sound like he's interested in you. But I saw the way he looked at you at the ice cream parlor. He was practically drooling as he stared into your eyes."

"He was being polite," I groan. "He needed me to be his fake boyfriend. But not because he likes me. It's to manipulate his cousin."

As fun as it is talking about my problems, I'd much rather get the focus off me.

"How’s dating going for you?" I ask.

Rowan pokes a hole through his apple juice and takes a thoughtful sip.

"Great," he says sarcastically but with an obliging smile. "I posted on Reddit and got zero responses. I also downloaded a fetish app and made a profile that went live last Friday but I haven't heard anything back. I'm starting to think men aren't interested in boys like me."

"What kind of men are you interested in?"

Rowan takes a bite of a Zebra cake. "Older men. Someone mature and established in life to take care of me."

It's so cool learning about Rowan outside of work.

I realize that we've only covered the tip of the iceberg at the ice cream parlor.

There's so much more to know.

"Do you want to be a full-time little?" I ask.

"It depends on the Daddy. I'd love to keep working at the parlor, but I also want to spend time on my crafts. I’m starting a clothing site on Etsy. I want to do it full-time. I'd jump at the chance to have a man who'd help me follow my dreams."

My heart soars. "I had no idea you made clothes."

Rowan's cheeks flush. "I actually brought a test product for you today. I hope you don't think it's too dorky."

Rowan pulls something out of his backpack and hands it to me.

It's a dinosaur bib with all my favorite dinos.

I nearly melt into a great big puddle of warmth as I hold it to my chest.

"It's beautiful." I run my fingers over the soft fabric and impeccable stitching.

"I threw it together last weekend with some leftover onesies,” Rowan explains. “It's super expensive to make bibs that way so hopefully I can figure out a better solution soon. A Daddy can help me achieve my goals faster."

I'm speechless as I tie the beautiful bib around my neck.

I had no idea my coworker was so talented.

"You have to sell these full-time,” I say. “People would pay a lot of money for custom products like these."

"Should I post it on Etsy?”

"Hell yes. Nikolai would totally buy it for me."

My face falls. "Oh wait."

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot Nikolai isn't actually my Daddy."

Rowan lets out a laugh as he takes another bite of his pastry.

"Maybe Nikolai is more into you than you think,” Rowan says. “Maybe he's rusty at dating."

"He introduced himself by complaining about my fake ID."

Rowan shrugs. "He's an older gentleman. You're incredibly good-looking. Maybe he didn't know how else to start the conversation."

"That's a good point,” I say, “but I don't think so. He made it clear that he only wants to be with me until his cousin's wedding. We’re splitting up then."

Just then something dark flashes in the corner of my eye.

I squint towards the pines on the far side of the park just in time to see a man in a black suit vanish behind the trees.

Something uncomfortable settles into my gut.

What the hell?

"There's something else." I pry my eyes away from the trees and focus on Rowan.

Rowan takes a sip of apple juice. "Tell me."

"Nikolai is a total hunk but he lies to me. He hasn't told me anything real about his life. And he keeps talking like he's in the Mafia or something. Maybe it's the Russian accent but I think there's something more nefarious going on."

"Maybe he reads too many Bratva novels on Amazon," Rowan jokes.

Rowan loves reading Russian Mafia romances on Kindle. He has a limited attention span so he loves short reads like Olivia T. Turner and Jessa Kane. He thinks Jessa Kane is one of the best writers on Amazon even though she doesn't write MM. He also has a weird theory that Jessa Kane is actually a college professor who writes romance on the side because her descriptions are so good. Rowan's tried to write a few Mafia romances in his day but he's not a good writer.

"I don't think so,” I say.

A phrase from the barbecue flashes back through my mind.

"The passwords to my security cameras are encrypted. No one can get in unless they know the code."

"So I'm guessing someone besides you knows the code?"

"We may have been compromised recently. But it won't happen again."

Nikolai’s comment about the security tapes at Crave was totally suspicious.

I asked him who had access to the tapes but he didn't answer my question directly.

He also gave Igor a nasty look when I asked.

He didn't think I saw it but I did.

"None of it matters." I set down my empty juice box and lay down on the blanket.

"Why?"

"It's a business arrangement and nothing else. Why should I let myself get carried away by a man who’s breaking up with me anyway?"