Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I’d done it a lot over the past few months.
That had him cracking a smile. “I was practicing being a Daddy?”
“Good try.” That wasn’t his natural default state, though. “But let’s get some of this fixed.”
He looked slightly skeptical about that, but the nosy waiter at lunch had given me a lot more time to process what Chipmunk had been saying.
“I was honest, albeit fucking with you slightly, when I said that I wanted to pick the serious option with other stuff included.” He didn’t seem to have been expecting that answer because he went still and blinked at me.
With other guys I’d have worried, but not with Teddy.
My Chipmunk didn’t hide what he was thinking, even when he was surprised. “You want to be my Daddy and do stuff?”
Oops.
My Chipmunk really liked to pop out at the most interesting times…like when he was stressed.
Changing the words around in my head, I smiled as he wiggled closer and his expression shifted to an adorable mix of curiosity and cuteness. “Yes, I want to be your Daddy and to do relationship stuff with you.”
“A real Daddy or a just visiting one?” My expression must’ve clued him in that I didn’t know what he meant because he kept going without a verbal prompting. “My online friend has a part-time Daddy that just comes over so he can play. He’s not an everyday all-the-time Daddy.”
Oh.
“A real one.” I would not be a good part-time Daddy. “I would get…frustrated if we just did Daddy and little stuff once in a while and you dated other people.”
I knew my expression showed how I felt about that when he giggled. “You’d be cranky.”
“Oh yeah.” That would be an understatement. “So real Daddy who sees you on a regular basis and takes control when it’s necessary.”
I thought I was being polite but he giggled again and crashed his face into my leg. “You have lots of necessary, Daddy.”
Maybe.
But to play along, I huffed and shook my head. “Just when it comes to food and playing and bedtimes and organizing our day.”
That got more happy sounds from him, but he finally rolled his head to the side and peered up at me again. “Do real Daddies make bathtime necessary?”
Would I control bathtime?
“I will take any and all control you will give me, so think about that carefully.” His snicker was a mix of silly and wicked, so I knew he was processing what I was saying at the very least. “But yes, I think helping with bathtime and doing things like changing your clothes is perfectly reasonable stuff for Daddy to be in charge of.”
Nodding against me, Chipmunk wiggled again and somehow ended up tucked completely between my legs. “You said no last night.”
He was never going to forget that.
“Because I needed to make sure you knew what you were asking for and that I knew your limits.” Going back to petting his head, I approached the subject from a different way. “I wanted to give you a bubble bath and get you in your jammies, but I didn’t want to do something that might upset you.”
Just because he wanted it didn’t mean there wasn’t some unexpected trigger I needed to be careful of.
I’d already been a big enough ass without accidentally giving him a panic attack.
“Aww.” Chipmunk didn’t seem to see it that way. “But I wanted a bath and cuddles.”
His words were technically innocent but they didn’t really sound innocent.
“That’s why we’re going to talk and figure out if there’s anything scary or that you don’t want to do.” I wasn’t sure I liked the devious way he was studying my face. “Once I know what makes you happy and what makes you scared, I’ll be able to be a better Daddy.”
He sat up just enough to press himself against me and the couch so his head was resting on my stomach…low on my stomach. “A better Daddy does bubble bathtime and puts on his boy’s jammies.”
Chipmunk clearly needed some hands-on time with Daddy to feel important.
Pushing back questions about how much he’d dated lately, I nodded. “Yes, if that’s what the boy likes, that’s what the Daddy would do.”
Hearing my agreement laid out clearly seemed to let his brain shift gears again. “What else does a good Daddy do? What does a good boy do?”
Was he asking what was important to me?
“A good boy asks for what he wants because his Daddy can’t read minds.” Even if we weren’t strangers to each other. “He also…gives kisses and hugs?”
That got a giggle out of him as he got permission to wiggle closer. I got a smacky kiss on the cheek and somehow his hands ended up resting high enough on my thighs that his fingers were on my dick.
Good fucking god.
How was I supposed to be a good Daddy with temptation literally on my lap?