Spoiled Perfection

  Spoiled Perfection

  A Daddy kink novella

  Gianni Holmes

  Edited by Tanja Ongkiehong

  Spoiled Perfection © Gianni Holmes

  All Rights Reserved

  This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic, in whole or in part, without expressed written permission. This is excluding brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental in nature.

  Warning

  This book contains sexual content that is intended for a mature adult audience.

  Table of Contents

  A Word from the Author

  Acknowledgment

  Epilogue: Ashton

  Chapter One: Callum

  Chapter Two: Ashton

  Chapter Three: Callum

  Chapter Four: Ashton

  Chapter Five: Callum

  Chapter Six: Ashton

  Chapter Seven: Callum

  Chapter Eight: Ashton

  Chapter Nine: Callum

  Chapter Ten: Ashton

  Prologue: Callum

  Author’s Word

  Dear Reader,

  You have been very instrumental in the crafting of this novella. It is with you in mind that I wrote this story as a celebration of the Daddy Kink and Age Gap Facebook group’s one-year anniversary celebration. I will never forget the first Daddy kink novel I wrote and the wonderful response I got from the group. For this reason, I just had to be a part of this giveaway as a way of giving back. There are a few things, though, that I should highlight before you get into this book.

  I wanted to write something a bit deeper, and as I tried to come up with a premise for this story, I contemplated a lot. Ultimately, I discovered my mood statement. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. Sometimes we pretend in our utopian world that we can save someone, and sometimes Daddies take on the weight of their littles/boys, but what happens when they can’t reach their partners? Where does kink end and destruction begin? That’s the premise of Spoiled Perfection.

  I hope you enjoy Daddy Callum and Master Ashton’s story. I thoroughly enjoyed them so much that I will be continuing their story into a full novel. There’s just so much more I want to say and show from these characters’ lives. I originally intended for this to be a 10k-word short story, but it has doubled to 22k words. And I still have much more I want to say. I think you may enjoy where I am taking this story.

  For the most part, hints are given about some events in the characters’ past. They are only glossed over here as this is the first part of the book. As the story develops into a full novel, there will be more that is discussed for you to understand their individualistic nature.

  This story is also meant to be one of hurt/comfort. The hurt/comfort will be evident to a certain degree in this section but becomes more acute as challenges arise for both characters. Hopefully, you will still give this story a chance and love it enough to want to continue their story. In the same way, I fell in love with the vulnerability behind Ashton’s and Callum’s exterior. Both men need each other in ways they don’t even know just yet.

  If you want to stick around to know when the full novel will be released, you can:

  Join my facebook group

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/giannifirsts/

  Love always,

  Gianni

  It’s very fitting that my last giveaway for the year stops right here at the Daddy Kink and Age Gap Facebook group. Thanks so much for making Daddy kink twice the fun.

  Thanks so much to Anna K Neal and all the other lovely ladies, who moderate the group for putting on this group giveaway. Thanks for including me.

  I hope you all enjoy!

  You can’t save a man who doesn’t want to be saved.

  Prologue

  Ashton

  One month and some days ago

  “Never have I ever sucked my professor’s dick to pass an exam.”

  The raucous laughter and excited drunk chatter fell away at the unexpected statement. I stared in disbelief at my ex-best friend, Louis, my hand, which clutched the shot glass filled with tequila, going numb. The smile froze on my face as I struggled inwardly to come to terms with what he had done. This was supposed to be a friendly game, and although I was already deep in my cups, everyone had been good-natured about my wild escapades so far.

  “Damn, Louis, that’s kind of specific,” his girlfriend said on a giggle from her position perched in his lap. Jill wrapped her arms around his neck, her top drooping down her arms and showing off the tops of her breasts, but Louis didn’t notice. He was too busy watching me for a reaction.

  “Shouldn’t your glass be empty, Ash?” he asked, a smirk adding insult to injury.

  His green eyes, filled with anger and spite, met mine. I blinked several times, convincing myself that it was the drink making my eyes watery rather than his betrayal. Three years of friendship since I started university. Three years of divulging my secrets to him. He knew me better than anyone else seated in this circle, and the day we had our fallout was the day he went back on his word.

  I brought the shot glass to my lips and downed the alcohol in one drink. The liquid burned going down, but I was better dealing with that hurt than that of my best friend turning on me. I slammed the shot glass on the coffee table and scrambled to my feet, never taking my eyes off Louis, even though six other pairs of eyes were watching us with interest. They would have noticed the distance between Louis and me of late, but no one had bothered to comment on it. We’d had spats before, but it had never been this bad.

  Irreparable.

  “Fuck you, Louis,” I told him, pointing a finger in his direction. I stumbled a little as I tried to step back, holding on to the side of the sofa we had pushed back to make room for us all. “You’re a fucking asshole, that’s what you are.”

  “Ash, come on, man. It was just a joke,” someone said, but I was too hurt and possibly a little too drunk to figure out which of our friends had spoken. The floor tilted before me, and I had to concentrate on getting to the door without falling flat on my face. He would have liked that, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. If Ashton Keyes the third sucked his professor’s dick to avoid failing another course, he wasn’t going to be ashamed of it. Not when the fucking professor hadn’t even passed me.

  “That was an asshole move, Louis,” someone muttered, and before I got to the door, a hand was around my shoulders, helping me from the living room.

  “I can walk,” I said, trying to push the person away.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Keyes,” Justin, who had been somewhat of a friend of mine since high school, stated. I should have made Justin my best friend. I should have confided in him and not Louis. But it was too late, and I had to live with the consequences.

  “My driver’s waiting on me outside,” I said, annoyed that he wouldn’t leave me alone. Didn’t he understand that I had no desire to speak to anyone right now?

  “Good.” We stumbled along the hall toward the front door. “I’m not ready to leave yet, but I’ll walk you to the car, ensure you are in fact not getting behind a car wheel.”

  “I’m not stupid, Jus,” I replied. “Just a little bit wasted.”

  Justin grunted without responding. Once he was at the door, he pushed the double doors open. The cool night air was already doing wonders for my sobriety. Like I was being shoved in the face of reality.

  “Whatever happened between you and Louis, man?” Justin asked, coming to a halt.

  “Nothing,” I answered, r
efusing to get into it. I was the gay guy. If I accused Louis, a “straight” guy, of hitting on me, somehow it would be seen as my fault. I’d been there before.

  “That inside just now was definitely something.”

  I shrugged as if it didn’t bother me. “You worry too much, Jus. So I sucked a professor’s dick to pass Econ because I couldn’t get it. So what if everyone now knows? You know me. Can’t be the worst thing I’ve done, right?”

  “Perhaps not the worst thing you’ll end up doing either,” he said in agreement. “Just be more careful, okay? You take a lot of risks, and I know things have been a little rough on you lately. If you need an ear, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” I slapped him in the chest as my driver, Rueben, walked toward me. “I should get home.”

  Justin shook his head and backed up inside the house. “See ya around, Ash.”

  No sooner had he left than my driver took me by the arm. His face was etched in concern, his lips turned down in reproach. He was always so well put together, and here I was, such a hot mess.

  “Master Ashton, your poor mother will be upset,” he murmured, his tone still carrying a bite. “You promised her after the last episode that you would be more responsible with alcohol, which you aren’t even supposed to be drinking. Your birthday isn’t for another month.”

  I leaned heavily on Rue as he walked me to the black-and-white Range Rover parked alongside those of my friends. Although I had a driver’s license, my mother didn’t think I was responsible enough to take care of a vehicle. Instead, she insisted that Rue drive me around. He had been in that capacity since I attended middle school.

  I sprawled over the back seat of the car while Rueben drove away from the mansion. I should have canceled on my friends after they’d updated me that we would be staying in instead of hitting up our usual club, but I hadn’t wanted to be alone tonight.

  “Rue,” I called to the driver. “Remind me the next time I think of going anywhere with Louis that I’m better off at home.”

  “You never did say what happened between you two,” Rueben remarked, and he met my eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. “You two were as thick as thieves.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I turned my head away from his curious eyes and stared out the window.

  “Very well, sir.”

  Silence ensued between us, and I closed my eyes. What could I have done for things to be different between Louis and me? That night I had spent in his dorm room after the accident, I had been vulnerable but still sober enough to know that sleeping with my best friend would have been chaos I didn’t need. All I’d wanted was a friend, but Louis had tried to be so much more and then hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer.

  I’d been with bicurious guys before, but Louis was in a relationship, and I was sort of friends with his girlfriend. His advances had placed me in an awkward position. Now he blamed me for ruining our friendship simply because I told him no. The worst thing was knowing that even if I had slept with him, it would have ended our friendship anyway. I slept with lots of guys, but I didn’t want to be with any of them. They were but pit stops to the finish line, and Louis could not be that finish line.

  “We’re here.”

  At Rue’s comment, I struggled to a sitting position. My mother was more than likely up, watching for me to arrive home. If she even suspected I was drunk, I’d be forced to listen to a lecture that never came. A lecture would have been more welcoming than the disappointment that was usually on her face when she saw me.

  Rue opened the car door and helped me outside. I frowned, glancing around me at the unfamiliarity of the place. The sign on the front of the lit two-story brick building noted Coffee Crave.

  “Hey, Rue. Where exactly are we? This isn’t home.”

  “God forbid I take you home in this condition, sir,” he said, his tone full of reproach. “We’re at a coffee shop. Hopefully, we can get you half-sober by the time you get home.”

  “I’m not that drunk, Rue.”

  He simply grunted and took me by the arm. I wobbled beside him, mumbling beneath my breath. I was surprised a café was open at this time of the night. We climbed the twin steps and entered, a little bell chiming our appearance. I scowled upward at the offending bell. Why in the world did anyone think the bell was a good idea? It was loud and annoying.

  “Here, have a seat while I place the orders.”

  I claimed a seat at a small table with matching chairs, glowering that the line I had glimpsed at the cashier was so long. I closed my eyes. Why were so many people lining up to buy coffee anyway? The only place I was willing to stand in line for was at a club, although my name was usually on the guestlist and I never had to wait.

  I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Rue was patting my shoulder, and I startled.

  “I ordered the coffee,” he said. “Are you going to be okay until I get back from the restroom?”

  “Of course, I’ll be fine. Rue, I’m not a baby!”

  “Hard to tell sometimes, Master Ashton.”

  I scowled at his disappearing back, and my eyes dropped to his waist and round ass. It was such a pity Rue was straight. Maybe he’d have been able to give me what I was after, but for all his nurturing, he didn’t get physical. Not even once. I had a feeling he and my mother had an affair going on, but I’d never ask, and I didn’t want them to confirm it either.

  Some truths were better left unknown, especially when they dug up skeletons.

  I had dozed off again when I sensed something different about my surroundings. I blinked my eyes open and stared at the man placing the coffee cups on the table. His shadow had fallen over me, which I must have picked up behind my eyelids.

  He was a vision to look at. Had my drunk mind conjured this handsome older man with hair as black as coal brushing the collar of his shirt? His piercing blue eyes met mine, and he paused, staring right back at me as though struck by the same stupor.

  “Here are your coffee orders,” he said, the first to recover, and I shuffled to sit up straight in my chair—as straight as my droopy drunk body would let me. “Your partner asked for the best kind we have to cure a hangover, and this is it: The Napoleon.”

  “Napoleon?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was saying. “Isn’t that the guy who they said ‘off with his head’?”

  “You’re thinking of King Louis XVI, which is also on the menu,” he replied, frowning at me. “I guess you’re not the brightest when it comes to history.”

  I giggled and hiccuped, not having the grace to be embarrassed. I was too enthralled by this handsome man. My pulse fluttered in my throat wildly, and my cock lengthened in my skinny jeans.

  “I’ll tell you a little secret,” I said, cupping my hand over my mouth in a stage whisper. “I am not the brightest when it comes to anything, really, but my mother insists.” I adopted my mother’s voice in my falsetto. “Ashton, all Keyes matriculate from university with a degree, and so will you.”

  The barista chuckled, the sound deep and masculine, sending shivers down my spine. He raised his hand in a little wave, and I stared at the knuckles in disbelief.

  “Well, enjoy your coffee and good luck with the studying.”

  “Wait!”

  My loud outburst filled the café, but it stopped the handsome man, who was about to get away.

  “May I see your right hand, please?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your hand,” I added, excitedly moving to the edge of my seat. “I thought I saw the letters D-A-D-D-Y spelled out on your knuckles.”

  “You saw wrong,” he said, his face closing off as he stuffed the same hand into his pocket.

  “I may be forty percent drunk,” I said. “Okay, maybe a lot more, but I know what I saw. Problem is finding out if you’re a Daddy for a boy or a girl. Perhaps for both?”

  This time, he placed both hands on top of the table and leaned forward. I sta
red at my confirmation, beaming at him. My eyes hadn’t deceived me at all. He was…Daddy.

  “It doesn’t matter what you see, kid,” he replied. “You haven’t even cut your teeth as yet. Perhaps hit me up on your next birthday?”

  He didn’t give me a chance to respond but walked away. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him as I tried to commit everything I could to memory. The way his dark hair curled at the back, the wide shoulders, broad back tapering to narrow hips, and his ass. I sucked in a deep breath. What wouldn’t I give to sink my nails into that ass as he fucked me mercilessly?

  “Master Ashton!”

  I tore my eyes away from the barista’s back. Rue was seated across from me. “Sorry. What is it?”

  “Your coffee’s getting cold. You don’t like the flavor? Should I order you something else from the menu?”

  “Oh, I know exactly the flavor I like,” I said, licking my lips as I returned my eyes to the older man, who had brought our coffee. He had stopped at a table a few feet from mine and was doodling something on a cup while chatting with the patrons. His smile was gorgeous.

  “If you tell me the flavor, I can get you another cup,” Rue offered, getting to his feet.

  “I don’t mean coffee,” I answered, waving him to regain his seat. “I meant I want him.”

  “Him?”

  “Yes, the barista.”

  Rue resumed his seat and reached for his cup of coffee. “Master Ashton, with all due respect, we’re here to get you sober, not to find you a hookup for the night.”

  “I don’t want him for just a hookup.” As if he could sense us talking about him, the barista glanced sideways, and his eyes connected with mine. I wanted to melt right under the table from the heat in his gaze.

  “I’m not sure he’s interested in whatever you’re offering, sir.”

  “Oh, he’s interested,” I replied, his words coming back to me about seeing him on my next birthday. He probably thought it was a long way off, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. I had patience enough to get to know him, and it wasn’t like he could avoid me once I was a customer. “I don’t care what it takes. I want him. I want him. I want him.”