Perfection
Gianni Holmes
Cover Artist: Black Jazz Design
Book Format: Perin’s Pen (Icons)
Edited by: Tanja Ongkiehong
&
One Love Editing
Perfection © 2020 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
Perfection
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Thank You
Become a Gem
So You Loved Perfection
More About Gianni Holmes
A Word from the Author
Dearest Reader,
I never intended writing Spoiled Perfection with such difficult topics. Yes, I love a hard fought and won HEA, but initially this book was meant to tread a bit lightly on alcoholism with the underlying tone that some issues can’t be fixed by love.
As I started writing the first book, however, I had the opportunity of facing my past, and some of my painful memories became of Cal’s and Ash’s.
I didn’t want to portray alcoholism in a romantic light where poof, there’s love and the problem is solved. It took one night of utter devastation and drunkenness, a bottle of pills, followed by hospitalization and parts of my memory I will never get back, to scare the shit out of me and made me face what I was about to become.
Pain and hopelessness can drive you to do things you never thought you’d ever contemplate when sober.
The second book especially took me down a lane of brokenness, but in a good way. You know when something was never fitted properly and you have to break it apart to put it back together? That’s exactly what I experienced writing about the pain that Callum and Ash had to go through as a couple and as individuals.
The pain was heartbreaking, but at times it was also healing. They needed that as much as I did.
It might not be alcoholism, but many of us would have gone through a period of loving someone so much we stay even when their actions hurt us. In that way, I hope you can empathize with why Callum stayed when staying should not have been an option.
Some events from book 2 are based on my real life experiences of alcohol abuse and coping with grief.
I don’t just hope you will enjoy reading this book. I wish for you a deep reading experience.
XO
Gianni
Recovery is about progression, not perfection.
Blurb
Perfection n. The state of being complete and correct in every way.
Callum
I learned the hard way that love doesn't change anyone. Yet, here I am for the long haul with Ashton on his road to recovery. I have to make tough decisions for his own good, but I have to believe in the end we'll be better for it.
Ashton
Local AA or an anonymous rehab center in another state? It's no hairbrainer why I chose the former. I don't think I can make it through recovery without my Daddy's support. But will he continue supporting me when he finds out what drove me to the bottle in the first place? How can anyone forgive me for what I've done when I can't even forgive myself?
Perfection is the second book in the Spoiled Perfection duet. This book cannot be read as a standalone.
Perfection
Chapter One
Callum
“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” I asked Ash, who sat across from me in the coffee shop.
He gave me a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which wouldn’t settle on me for too long. His gaze flickered around the half-empty coffee shop, his anxiety showing in the way his knees knocked against the underside of the table.
“I’m a big boy, and Rue’s already on his way to get me,” he said.
“You know what I mean, Ashton.” I hated seeing him so uncomfortable with the idea of going to AA, but we’d agreed. If we were going to be in a relationship, he had to get treatment. “To support you. You know I support you, don’t you?”
His cheeks grew pink, and his chest moved rapidly. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, please?” His gaze finally landed on me, and I couldn’t tell if he was as angry as he sounded or terrified. “I feel like you’re pressuring me to be better already, and I haven’t even gone to the first meeting yet!”
I sat back in my chair, struck dumb at his words. I never thought about how much pressure he might be under. All this time, I was just trying to support him, not demand anything from him.
“Shit, Ash, I’m sorry. Believe me. I’m the last person to expect you to change overnight. It will be a long process.”
“And now you make me sound so hopeless.”
He pushed his bottom lip out like a petulant child’s. I frowned at him acting up tonight. His behavior had been quiet since two days, after we reconnected and made plans for moving forward.
He would go to AA, and that was nonnegotiable. I wasn’t willing to waste my life on another alcoholic who had no intention to seek help.
I deserved better than that heartache again.
“I don’t think you really believe that.” I cocked my head to one side and stared at him. What am I not getting? “Why are you on the verge of throwing a tantrum? You know I’ll have to punish you if you do, don’t you?”
His lips curved in a smile, and the worry in his eyes turned to desire as he peeked at me beneath his eyelashes.
“Maybe I want you to punish me before I go. Please.”
Ashton resumed tapping his foot under the table. Dammit, why did I take so long to figure it out? He was nervous about going to his first AA meeting and wanted something familiar.
I rose to my feet and held out my hand to him. “We don’t have much time, but we can use the office.”
He nodded, and without a word, we weaved our way around the tables. Brayden was watching us, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t quite hide his grin, though.
“Phil, we’ll be in my office,” I called.
Phil raised his head from the cup of coffee he was making. He glanced from me to Ashton, then back at me.
“Okay, won’t disturb you.”
Ever since I found out he was the reason Ashton ghosted me the last time, our friendship was strained. He tried to make up for it by being even more a
greeable than usual, but I was still hurt he’d gone behind my back like that and talked to Ash about Mario.
Ash and I ducked around the back to my office. I kept ahold of his hand as we walked inside. The space was more of a storage room than an office, our stock on shelves that rested against the walls. Smack in the middle stood my desk with a computer and a printer. The only things I really splurged on were for this business. I needed efficient tools to keep us in the green where profits were concerned.
“This is your office?” Ashton asked, glancing around, his face showing his horror.
I chuckled, his reaction just what was needed to break the ice. This office was definitely a step down from what I was used to on Wall Street, but I liked it. It was all mine, since Phil rarely set a foot through the doors.
“Snob,” I half teased, letting go of his hand. “What did you expect?”
He walked over to the single window in the room and looked out, then turned back to me, his nose all scrunched up. “Definitely not a view of your dumpster.”
“Hmm, why don’t you give me a better view, then.” I sat behind my desk. “Come here, boy. Daddy’s got to teach his spoiled brat a lesson.”
He shuffled closer, his eyes shining. “You know, it only looks bad on you if I’m a brat. You spoil me.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t have the means to begin spoiling you, Pretty Eyes.”
“It doesn’t take money to spoil me.” His laughter gave way to a pensive expression, brows knitted in a frown. “Money means nothing to me. You give me all the things that really matter. Your time. Your love. Your patience. And your coffee.” He grinned at me again. “You always find a way to make mine extra special.”
“Hmm, maybe because I have an extra special boy.” I nodded at him. “Now unbuckle your pants.”
He undid his belt buckle, his eyes full of mischief. It was good to see him this way and not as tense as he’d been earlier. We both hurt over the past forty-eight hours, but laughter was the medicine that could help us heal.
“No, turn around while you do it.”
He turned to his side and smiled impishly at me. “Like this?”
“Your ass is going to be so sore,” I threatened. “All the way around.”
He did exactly what I said. But instead of a one-eighty, he did a three-sixty and faced me once more.
“That’s all the way around, right, Daddy?” He gave me his best innocent expression, hands behind his back, biting his bottom lip and batting his lashes at me.
My lips twitched as I barely contained my smile at his antics. How could I give up on him? He brought so much laughter and joy to my life.
I grabbed his hips and spun him the way I wanted him. With his back to me.
“You know it’s your ass I want to see, boy. Don’t play with Daddy, or he won’t let you suck his dick when he’s finished swatting your ass.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll be good.”
Yes, I just want you to be good, baby.
I didn’t say the words. I suppressed them to keep the mood playful. Ashton made quick work of his belt. He grabbed the waistband of his jeans to push down his hips.
“Leave them hanging from your thighs,” I told him.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Sorry. Okay, Daddy.”
“Don’t forget who’s your Daddy.”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “You are. I’ll never forget.”
He shoved his jeans roughly down his thighs. The jeans were indecently tight and clung to his legs. His purple shirt hung down over his bottom, giving me only the barest hint of white underwear.
“Bend over the desk,” I instructed him. Is that his heavy breathing or mine?
“Yes, Daddy.”
He was careful to shuffle the computer to the side so he could find enough space to sprawl his torso on the desk. His shirt rode up to his waist, and there he was before me, those round buns hidden from my sight in his tighty-whities.
“Slowly pull down your underwear.”
He reached back and yanked it down all at once. His ass was perfectly plump and smooth. My dick was hard, but I ignored it. I got to my feet and placed a hand firmly over his left cheek.
“Boy, am I going to enjoy making your ass red for your disobedience,” I murmured softly. His shallow breaths filled the room, and I hadn’t even done anything to him yet.
“Yes, Daddy, I’ve been bad,” he gasped. “Punish me.”
“I want you to count. Six smacks on each side.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Remember your safe word?”
“Pineapple.”
“Good, use it if I spank you too hard.”
I crouched behind him and planted a kiss on each cheek. “Such a pity you won’t be able to sit comfortably when I’m done with you.”
“Yes, please, Daddy. Make me hurt.”
I rose with a smack to his left ass cheek. My fingers immediately printed out in red on his white skin. He let out a moan.
I slapped him sharply on the other butt cheek, and he cried out. “You’re not counting.”
“Two!”
Smack!
“Three!”
With each slap I landed on his ass, he cried out. Halfway through, his ass cheeks were red as a tomato, and he squirmed from each contact with my throbbing hand. There was no mistaking who was breathing hard this time. We both were.
The sight of those blushing cheeks reddened by my hand made me so hard. I was a second away from unzipping and fucking him across my desk.
But this wasn’t about me and what I wanted.
The next two slaps rang out in the office, one right behind the other.
“Seven, eight!”
His body was tense, and he clutched the other side of the desk tightly. I grasped him by the hair and pulled his head up so I could see his face. He looked beautiful with tears wetting his cheeks, his bottom lip red and swollen where he bit into it with those pearly white teeth.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I told him, and he blushed a rosy pink.
It was seeing him at times like this that made me not give up on him. He still had such innocence and vulnerability in him. If he could just see the potential that I did.
“It’s a pity my inside doesn’t match what’s on the outside, right?”
I frowned at him, the spanking temporarily forgotten. “What do you mean?”
“I’m horrible on the inside. That’s what you were thinking.”
“No, I mean you’re beautiful inside and out.” I released his hair and stroked his face. “Perfection. That’s you, baby boy.”
He gave a huff of laughter, but it was mocking. Dismissive. “I’m so screwed up. You can’t honestly believe that.”
I smiled at him. “Spoiled perfection. That’s what you are.”
He wrinkled his nose at me. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Doesn’t it? Being perfect doesn’t mean flawless.”
“Ugh, you’re confusing me, and I don’t want to think too much right now.” He curved his spine and pushed his ass out more at me. “I believe you owe me four more slaps. Daddy should deliver on his promise to his boy, you know.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Consider it doubled.”
He smirked at me. “Whatever for?”
The last word ended on a gasp when I slapped his left cheek. He clenched and released, his face scrunched up from the pain, but his eyes were heavy with the endorphins rushing through his veins. He didn’t look away from me as I smacked him.
I made the last slap hurt more than the others. My hand stung from the impact against his ass, and he yelped, his body jerking.
“Shh,” I murmured. He lay limp on my desk, his body shuddering from his sobs. I knelt behind him and kissed his ass cheeks. “Shh, Daddy will kiss and make it better.”
“You promised your cock in my mouth,” he choked out around his tears. “That’ll make it better.”
I hadn�
��t planned to deliver anything else but to soothe him before letting him get moving for his meeting. I glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. We had enough time for him to blow me off. Barely.
If this was what it took for him to loosen up about going to AA, I wouldn’t deny him.
“Don’t move,” I instructed him.
I walked around to the other side of the desk and unbuckled my pants.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
He obeyed and sniffled. He had stopped crying, and his eyes were fixated on where my hands worked at the zipper of my jeans. I pushed a hand into my underwear and pulled out my erection.
“Oh god, Daddy,” he moaned. “You’re so big.”
“And it’s all for you.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you, Daddy. May I suck it now, please?”
“Go ahead. Keep your hands behind your back, or I’ll take your treat away.”
I stepped closer, and he latched greedily onto my dick. Watching him struggle to take all of it was a sight to behold, those lips spreading to accommodate my girth, his eyes opening wide when I pushed down his throat.
By now, I knew how much he could take. I slid a hand into his hair, clutching tightly as I fucked his face. Slowly at first because I didn’t want it to end too soon. He was always so fucking good at blow jobs, and just seeing the blissed-out look on his face was enough to send me over the deep end.
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