The Daddy Deadline
MM Daddy-Kink Romance · by Jace Wilder
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Pairing: MM
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Editor/Author, Forced Proximity, Snowed In, Grumpy/Sunshine, Brat/Tamer, Praise Kink, One Bed, Hurt/Comfort
He has six weeks to finish his book. His editor has one rule: never sleep with an author. The blizzard disagrees.
Bestselling romance novelist Raffi Sloane has one problem: the manuscript he owes in six weeks doesn’t exist.
Actually, he has several problems. His publisher is threatening to claw back his advance. His social-media disasters are making him impossible to market. His ex has sold a vague essay about their breakup. And his editor, Aurel Voss, is forty-four, terrifyingly precise, emotionally impossible, and apparently immune to Raffi’s best flirtation techniques.
Aurel has built a career rescuing talented writers from their own chaos. He also has one absolute rule: never sleep with an author. But when a blizzard traps him and Raffi at an Adirondack writing retreat, six weeks from Raffi’s deadline, Aurel offers the only thing he knows how to give—structure.
Morning pages. Word counts. Meals. Bedtimes. Consequences for missed goals. Praise when Raffi earns it.
Raffi thinks he can handle a few rules. He thinks the word Daddy is a joke.
Then their professional arrangement becomes a private one, and the man who has spent his career hiding behind wit and excess discovers that being cared for feels more dangerous than failure. To finish the book, Raffi must stop confusing chaos with creativity. To keep Aurel, he must prove he wants a partner—not an editor who can save him from every deadline.
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ Negotiated Daddy-kink without age play
✅ Grumpy editor × bratty bestselling author
✅ Snowed-in forced proximity with one bed
✅ Praise kink that will rewire your nervous system
✅ “Good boy” said in a voice like aged whiskey over gravel
✅ Sex so emotionally devastating you’ll need aftercare too
✅ HEA guaranteed
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MM scenes), negotiated Daddy/brat dynamics, praise kink, light restraint, strong language, depictions of anxiety, insomnia, and writer’s block. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One: Deadline Daddy
The trick to reading a sex scene aloud in front of two hundred strangers is the same trick that works in bed: commitment.
You can’t mumble through it. Can’t go half-speed and hope nobody notices you skipped the part where his hand slides between her thighs. If you’re going to stand at a podium in a Brooklyn bookstore with good lighting and better acoustics and read the sentence he fucked her like he was trying to leave a message she’d feel for days, you have to say it like you mean it.
I always mean it.
“Keep going!” someone shouted from the third row, and I grinned, flipping the page with a flourish I’d practiced exactly zero times because it looked better unrehearsed. The trick to looking unrehearsed is a different trick. That one I learned from my publicist.
“‘Lena’s back hit the wall and she stopped caring about the paint,’” I read, pitching my voice low enough that the front row had to lean forward. “‘His mouth found the spot below her ear that made her architecture degree feel like a waste of a perfectly good neck, and she grabbed his belt like it had personally offended her.’”
Laughter. A few gasps. One woman in a Raffi Sloane Book Club tee covered her face with both hands and peeked through her fingers.
“‘She got his zipper down on the second try—first try was nerves, second try was fury—and wrapped her hand around him. He made a sound she’d never heard from a man who color-coded his bookshelf.’”
The room was mine. I could feel it the way you feel weather changing—the air pressure shifting, two hundred people breathing at the same rhythm, leaning the same direction. They wanted more. They always wanted more.
I gave them more.
“‘He dropped to his knees like gravity had finally made a compelling argument.’” I paused. Timing is everything. “‘And Lena, who had spent twenty-seven years being polite about what she wanted, put her hand in his hair and said: Lower.’”
The room erupted. Cheering, clapping, someone banging on a table. I closed the book with a snap, tossed my curls out of my face, and hit them with the smile—the big one, the one that launched a thousand Instagram saves.
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Red Ink — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon
Six months after the epilogue. The upstate house. The library. The fountain pen. Aurel leaves a fake sticky note in Raffi’s handwriting, and what follows is the filthiest, most emotionally devastating desk scene in the entire series. Full Daddy/brat dynamic. Full aftercare. Full 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ heat.
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