DANGEROUS DADDY’S BAD BOY
by
Alex Anders
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Published by RateABull Publishing at Smashwords
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. The person or people depicted on the cover are models and are no way associated with the creation, content or subject matter of this book.
Copyright © 2011 by RateABull Publishing
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DANGEROUS DADDY’S BAD BOY
Taylor peeked out his bedroom window as Colin dipped in and out of the pools of light that lit their back patio. Wearing only his robe Colin carried a tray that held a tumbler of Irish whiskey and his silver and gold Star Model SM .380 caliber hand gun. As usual Colin placed the tray on the side of the Jacuzzi and dropped his robe displaying his muscular 40-something-year-old body and his thick daddy cock. Taylor loved the sight. He had seen it every Friday night since he arrived home from his first semester at college. And he knew with his mother away on a business trip, this would be his last opportunity to talk to Colin while he was alone and naked.
Taylor waited until Colin was settled and had taken a few swigs of whiskey before he tightened the straps of his robe and headed for the backyard. When Taylor opened the sliding glass of their one-story middle class home, Colin turned around and stared at the boy.
Colin squinted his naturally small eyes at the boy. As of late things between the two had been tumultuous. Their last argument had even lead to Colin striking Taylor across the face. In Colin’s mind it had been justified, but Colin wasn’t sure how Taylor would eventually react. Taylor was as physically beautiful a boy as there could be with his teenaged muscles and angst. But as attractive as he was, Taylor had an impulsive side that was bound to lead to trouble.
Colin tightened his lips moving the thin hairs of his Johnny Depp goatee. Tense, he watched as Taylor’s bare feet touched each of the marble slabs that dotted the manicured lawn. When Taylor was close enough Colin noticed that his new son wore a robe identical to his own. He had never seen it before. It looked good on him. But even as he admired the boy, Colin measured just how far he would have to reach for his gun if things suddenly turned bad.
Wiping his meaty Black Irish face and running his hands through his trimmed dark hair, Colin spoke.
“ Can I help you?” he asked looking up at Taylor’s square jaw bone and loosely curly and boyishly styled dark hair.
“Yeah. I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier. It was wrong,” Taylor offered submissively.
“You can’t talk to your mother like that,” Colin replied barely hiding his Irish accent.
“Yes, sir.”
“I know that you didn’t grow up with your dad around, but you’re under my roof now and as long as you’re here, you have to do