Hide With Me (The Game, #13)

by Cara Dee

“I’m actually here today mostly to find him,” Dean admitted. “I read the attendance list online this morning and saw his name. I don’t want him to hide from me.” I felt my forehead wrinkle some more. “I find it weird that he thought he could.”

Dean and I trailed over to the door, and it only took Kit a couple seconds to spot us. He widened his eyes, then blurted out, “Abandon ship, every man for himself!” and ran off. Fucking hell, I’d missed being around Littles.

“Hey, little one,” I said casually. “You hidin’ from someone?” He winced and bit at his thumbnail. “Maybe?” Excellent timing for Dean to walk through the door and reveal himself to Gael. “Oh crap,” Gael mumbled. “Um, hello, Professor Aavik.” “Hello, dear.” Dean was as amused as I was. “If we pretend I didn’t already know you’re my student, you just gave yourself away.” “Aw, man.” Gael made a face and zipped up his jacket higher, as if he was trying to retreat into it. “So this is embarrassing.” “More like entertaining,” I offered.

At first glance, Santiago was the man you didn’t wanna meet in a dark alley. At second glance, you wanted to beg him to take you there.

My stomach fluttered and tightened when he narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer, then pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Tempting boy,” he murmured.

“Good. There.” He pressed send. “Now we wait for Macklin’s no-doubt dramatic response.” I wasn’t sure it could be more dramatic than Aavik’s message.

then we were gonna eat supper and cuddle the shit out of each other till he fell asleep. No Little of mine was gonna go tired.

“Oh, a peach after my own heart.” Dean gave me a tight squeeze from behind that made me laugh, partly at him and partly at Daddy’s deadpan expression. “He’s a fuckin’ mini-Dean,” Daddy stated flatly. I grinned goofily.

I thought that was a good idea. Gael shouldn’t be alone yet. “But what about Master Dean, Daddy?” The boy actually pouted. First at Joshua, then up at me. “Can’t you come with us to Daddy’s house?” Goddamn. I looked to Joshua for help, which…well, that was stupid. “I’m pouting internally,” he said and took a sip of his coffee.

I’d like to be in charge of our date tomorrow. Is that all right with you? He responded quickly. Hell, baby. Are we hosting a funeral for your resolve? Of course it’s all right.

“I keep telling myself we’re just gonna try, but I really fucking want this.” “So we’ll succeed instead.”

They may be the boring technicalities of BDSM—to discuss who got to come where and when—but each rule made up a framework in which we thrived and nobody was harmed. Pain within a comfort zone, suffering within a structure that brought pleasure, chaos inside a bubble of safety.

“I don’t suppose you’ll feel appeased by the fact that I know how to fend for myself.” He offered a curious little grin in return. “It’s not about that, Master. Of course you can fend for yourself. So can Daddy and I. But now we wanna fend for each other, because we like the together stuff. You know?”

“When you hand over control to me, I want to take a weight off your shoulders as well.” He scrunched his nose and squinted at me. “Surrendering control is a weight off my shoulders, Sir.”

We came at each other with a level of fire that was entirely new to me. For as long as I could remember, Walker had described me as frustratingly mellow and said that nothing could ruffle my feathers, but that was exactly what Gael and Joshua were doing. I was becoming fucking unglued because of them.

Let’s go ask him.” Oh, me too? Yeah, okay. He even grabbed my hand, and it was almost too much. Because a bajillion fucking hells, was this my life now?

We’d attached a blank piece of paper to it for “note keeping.” “Corey,” I said. “Yeah?” I lifted my brows. “Oh shit. I mean, present!” I felt my mouth twitch. They were too fucking adorable, the brats. “Gael?” “Present!” “Tate.” “Present, Sir.” “Nobody likes a brownnoser, dude,” Corey told him. “Write up Corey for insolence,” Greer said. I nodded and jotted down Corey’s name and insolence, minus one point. “Fuck,” Corey whispered.

Corey legit balled his hands into fists. “I’m. So. Over. The. Notebooks.” Greer tossed me a smirk. “It’s possible I have one at home. Kid gets riled up every time I make a note.” I let out a laugh. That was a good idea. “Don’t even think about it, Daddy,” Gael blurted out. Oh really? Don’t even think about it? Colt and Greer shook their heads at the boy. “I reckon that’s one for insolence there too,” I said, dropping my gaze to the clipboard. “Gael getting bossy with his superiors—won’t look good on your report card, chiquito.” “But it’ll look great in my brat book,” Corey told him. “I think we should start our own note keeping. You just scored ten points.”

“During our lecture, we’ll also assist you with helpful advice on how to sit and behave properly,” I added. “Aren’t you kind,” Corey mumbled under his breath. “For instance! When you wish to speak, you raise your hand first,” I declared. “Then when we allow you to run your mouth, you stand up beside your desk and say what you have to say.” Gael raised his hand, and I inclined my head. He rose from his seat, positioned himself next to the desk, and simply said, “Yikes.” Then he sat down again. Don’t laugh. Tate and Corey couldn’t help it—they laughed and hurriedly stifled their sounds, and I was thankful Kingsley stepped in because I was too happy Gael was settling in with his goofball behavior as much as he was with his new friends. “Think twice before you brat off again, little Gael,” Kingsley told him. “Next time, we will deduct five points from your final score. Same warning to the rest of you. Choose your words wisely.” This time, the “Yikes” was only visible in Gael’s expression.

Corey made a face and scratched his forehead. “If I’m gonna carpe friggin’ diem, I can’t worry about the regrets I’ll have tomorrow.”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Greer spoke up from behind me. “I just found out I have to carpe both a diem and a brat, so I thought I’d do that out on the lawn after we’ve eaten.” “Oh, Corey,” Kit snickered from the crowd. “Crap,” Corey sighed. “Sometimes, regret comes faster than I do.”

Lane was smirking at his cousin, Shay was filming on his phone, and Noa went, “Take it like a champ, Corey!” “But crying is encouraged.” Reese threw that out there. “We like it when y’all write checks your asses can’t cash.”

“Ugh, let’s get this over with. It’s cold out here—and the rain is freezing!”

“Maybe we shoulda put chemistry on the schedule, though,” Greer went on. “You see, when rain freezes, it becomes snow.” “What’s your point?!” Corey barked out. “Oh Christ.” Lane cracked up and face-palmed. Greer bent down a bit to get to Corey’s level. “I’ll spell it out for you, brat. The rain ain’t freezin’. You’re just bitching over a little water.”

“I’ve freakin’ had it!” Corey yelled. “Do you know how cold it is?!” “It’s not freezing,” Reese supplied helpfully. “Maybe it’s time to warm him up,” Sloan said. “I’ll go get a paddle.” Amazing. The entertainment continued.