Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Well, hell. He didn’t have to do that.
“Soft-boiled,” I replied. “For the record, that’s not your responsibility, Danny.”
He quirked a smirk and revealed a lot more than a carton of eggs. I spotted a bakery bag and something wrapped in newspaper. Which meant he’d been to Frank’s Deli the next town over. Everything in our own sleepy village was closed till ten.
“Can a guy express his gratitude to his new PMC instructor?” he asked.
Fuck, he was too cute. Too goddamn gorgeous.
“I guess you don’t have to twist my arm,” I answered. Then I went to shallower waters to wash my junk.
Danny averted his gaze and headed up the porch steps. “The water can’t be too cold,” he muttered.
I coughed around a laugh, a little surprised. Did he make those comments every time he showered with the guys in his detachment? Our kind couldn’t spell modesty.
While he disappeared inside to get breakfast ready, I finished washing up. I supposed fresh bread and eggs beat oatmeal, which I was used to. It was easy. Oatmeal and cinnamon was sort of the trademark Emerson breakfast.
It was possible the twins had gotten sick of it.
I submerged myself once more and scrubbed myself free of suds, and then I was sufficiently chilled down.
The morning sun felt amazing on my back as I got out of the water.
I tossed the soap bar onto another rock, then picked up my towel to dry off.
If Danny was gonna be blunt about things that were usually more…private, so to speak, I would have to come up with verbal shields to change the topic. It would be too easy for me to do the opposite. Life was too short to beat around the bush, and I usually didn’t have the time. In between work assignments, I put my cards on the table pretty damn fast if I was interested.
Partly because it happened so rarely, too. Sticking my cock into the closest willing hole hadn’t appealed to me in ages. Arden and I had bitched about it together, because he was the same. We needed that mental connection. Something that reeled us in and stimulated our minds.
I tightened my towel around my hips and left the soap for tomorrow’s repeat.
“Payne, would you recommend the fireplace or the grill to make coffee?” Danny hollered from inside.
“The fireplace. Did you find the strainer for the coffeepot?” I climbed up the porch steps and stayed in the doorway.
“Yup, right here.” He was a busy bee at the counter. He had a pot for the eggs too.
“Do you need a hand?” I asked. I didn’t wanna get dressed yet—or go inside. The sun felt too good.
“No, sir. You go sit down on the porch,” he replied.
Very well. I wasn’t gonna turn down getting spoiled for breakfast. “Don’t make a habit out of this, boy. I’ll get too comfortable.”
He flashed me a grin. A fucking beautiful grin that reached his eyes. He was relaxing, wasn’t he? I’d never seen him at ease. This was a whole other Danny.
“Good to know,” he said.
I left the doorway to clear my head. The stuffed animal was at the forefront of my mind too. I wondered what kind of smile he’d give if someone tucked him in at night and placed that toy next to him.
Did Arden really think Danny could be a Little of any kind?
I could see it just as much as I couldn’t. Psychologically, it made perfect sense. A young man robbed of his childhood, of safety, of protection, of…so many other fundamental things. Always carrying the world on his shoulders. Always the tough guy. Serving his country, saving lives, ending some too.
Even those men and women needed to let go every now and then.
In my circle of BDSM friends, I’d met women who were submissive through and through, women who rocked a CEO title by day and a slave label by night, men who shed the suit to become a boy, men who played across the entire spectrum, and soft-spoken kinksters who wielded one hell of a whip.
I got comfortable in one of the chairs and planted my feet on the cooler at the center.
Being a Daddy Dom was my way of tending to that other side of me. The one who wanted to take care of his Little and just make him happy. See the good in the world and focus on nurturing. Balancing spoiling someone rotten with providing firm structure and guidance.
Spending the past five months with the twins was making me miss kink more and more. I’d made my choices when it came to work, but that didn’t mean it was wonderful all the time. Shit got lonely, and temporary arrangements barely scratched the itch.
I rubbed my chest absently and closed my eyes. If only the sun could heat up my cold center too.