7. Dom
SEVEN
DOM
I was in over my head and I did not care.
I wanted to drown myself in the waters of him and never surface. I was glad we’d talked, though I’d not covered everything I’d wanted to talk about. But whenever he was near, I lost all reason and good sense and wanted to immerse myself in him.
In being a daddy to him. Having him as my boy.
He was so fucking perfect, and this roleplaying thing we had going was better than anything I could have dreamed of.
And god, how I’d dreamed of this.
Seeing him in the pyjamas I’d bought for him—shorts so small and tight they were obscene and a little singlet top that emphasised his slight frame.
God, I could almost get both hands around his waist.
Well, not really, but not far from it.
The way he played into his part, looking up at me with his big boyish eyes, batting his eyelashes, pouting his perfect lips. Leaning his little body against me and whimpering.
He knew damn well what he was doing.
Don’t even get me started on the lollipop.
Christ.
He was the perfect boy.
And I’d called him that, which scared me. But he liked to hear it, and I needed to learn from him.
When he’d stood in my kitchen, his dick tenting those tight boy shorts... I damn near lost my mind.
I made him come then took him to bed, where he fell asleep in my arms. His pretty lashes and cupid bow lips were the prettiest sight I’d ever seen.
But the way he clung to me did nothing to stop my own arousal. The way he pressed against my cock in those damn shorts.
I wasn’t sure if they were the best or worst idea.
Best. Definitely best.
I ran my hand down over the swell of his arse, slow and firm. I spread his cheeks a little, giving him a gentle rub. He stirred, his face in my chest, and he startled awake.
I froze, not moving my hand. Until he relaxed and hummed, his fingers stretching through my chest hair. “Mm, daddy,” he mumbled.
Then he noticed where his face was, right next to my nipple.
He licked it slowly, sending a jolt of pleasure to my already aching dick.
He licked my nipple again, sucking on it lightly, then a little more, and a little harder... until he was really sucking it. He wrapped his arm around me, fully latched on to my nipple.
I made the mistake of looking down at him just as he was looking up at me. His half-lidded sleepy eyes and his lips fully around my nipple, sucking on it.
He sucked so hard it was a level of pleasure that bordered on pain. I couldn’t have pulled him off, even if I’d wanted to. He wasn’t letting go, so I let him have what he wanted.
I stroked the side of his face, the corner of his lips as he continued to suck. I wasn’t sure how long I could let him do this. I tried to ignore my aching cock, but it wasn’t easy. “Good boy,” I bit out, voice tight.
He released my swollen nipple. “Daddy’s milk,” he whispered. “Need daddy’s milk.”
And any and all self-control I had was gone.
I pulled him off me, pinning him face down on the bed. I reached for the lube and pulled his shorts down, barely enough to expose his hole. I was rough and frantic, out of control, and so fucking desperate to be inside him.
Nothing could have stopped me.
I poured lube down his crack, pinned him down with my body weight, my cock pushing against his hole. He made a wonderfully pitiful sound and I whispered in his ear. “You want daddy’s milk, then take it.”
I pushed into him, hard and deep.
Relentless.
Unforgiving.
Perfect.
Fitch cried out, his body fighting the intrusion. I gripped his wrists and pinned them to the mattress above his head, and I rolled my hips, pushing up and deeper into him.
“You can take it,” I murmured, my voice strained. “Daddy knows you can. Be a good boy and breathe. Take a deep breath in.”
He did as I told him.
“And out.”
He exhaled, tension leaving his body with his breath.
“Good boy,” I whispered, kissing his ear, his neck. “Such a good boy.”
“Thank you, daddy,” he replied, meek and soft.
He pulled his wrists from my grip, only to push his fingers through mine, interlocking them, holding on tight.
So I held the back of his hands and rocked into him, thrusting in and out nice and slow.
He was so tight, so hot, better than any arse I’d had before. This was more than sex. This was nurturing something else inside me, something I’d denied myself for years.
This felt like home.
Like the neglected part of me had found where it belonged.
“You’re daddy’s little boy,” I crooned in his ear, pleasure building fast.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“You want daddy’s milk?”
He cried, sniffling. “Yes, please, daddy.” He tried to raise his arse to meet the roll of my hips. “All of it, daddy, please.”
My hips bucked at his desperation, his pleading. While I wanted this feeling to never end, to last forever and stay inside him for hours, I was too turned on, too desperate to come.
To give him what he begged me for.
My nipple was still swollen, still tender and tingling, and remembering the way his lips had curled around it, sucking it hard, was all it took. “Take my milk, boy. Drink it all,” I growled.
I gripped his hands tight and drove my hard cock into him one last time.
He cried out again, moaning as I emptied my load inside him.
Ecstasy so sublime barrelled through me, consuming me, and I was grunting and groaning as I chased every synapse of bliss with every pulse.
My body wanted this high forever.
I never wanted to come down.
The gift this boy gave me.
I could have wept with the power of it.
I let go of his hands and slid my arms underneath him, wrapping him up tight. “You’re daddy’s good boy,” I murmured.
He whined out a long moan. “Thank you, daddy.”
My body felt made of lead, my brain was crawling to a stop. I knew I should provide some aftercare but damned if I ever wanted to move. I kissed the side of his head. “Want to stay here all night,” I mumbled.
“Mm, stay inside me,” he whispered, sleepy, eyes closed. “Wanna sleep with your cock in me. With your arms around me.”
Warmth settled in my bones, and I kissed his neck with smiling lips. “Okay.”
“Thank you, daddy,” he whispered. Then he clenched his arse around my sensitive cock. “Daddy’s milk helps me sleep.”
I hummed happily. I knew I couldn’t stay on top of him or inside him forever, but his breaths evened out and he slept with a smile.
This fucking boy.
For as short a time as it had been, he already owned a piece of my heart. I had no idea how long this arrangement would last, but I was grateful for it.
I was happy.
I reluctantly pulled out of him but quickly wrapped him up in a full embrace. He slept soundly with his head on my chest, my arm around his small frame.
I studied the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his pale cheeks, how his lips parted.
I wanted to cherish and protect this boy for as long as he’d have me. I wanted to be everything he needed. When he was here with me, whatever limited time per week we had, he was mine.
I put the rest of the mess—his job, the court case—out of my mind, kissed his temple, resting my chin on his head, and I closed my eyes.
Morning came all too soon. I made him breakfast, made him eat. Then I made him shower and made him come.
He rewarded me with cuddles and kisses, curling into me and purring like a damn cat.
I dropped him home and he sat in my car for a long moment, his hand on the door handle, but he made no attempt to leave.
I didn’t want him to.
“So next week then,” he said.
“Absolutely,” I replied quickly.
His blue eyes met mine, searching, and so god help me, he looked vulnerable.
“Hey,” I said, reaching out and taking his hand. “Where’s the bratty kid with the big mouth?”
He groaned, his head leaning against the headrest. “Ugh. You’re making it so hard to leave.”
Telling him to stay another day was on the tip of my tongue...
“I had a really good night,” he whispered. “But I should go.”
Tell him to stay. Tell him to stay...
But how could I? That’s not what we agreed to, and if one of us was supposed to be the adult, it was supposed to be me.
Boundaries were important. Limits and self-control by the guidelines that I’d insisted on.
“Next Friday,” I said. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
He squinted at me and made a pitiful whiny sound. “That’s so far away, daddy.”
I scowled at him, feigning annoyance when we both knew I loved his bratty side. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll give you a reward.”
He grinned at me. “Do I get any hints?”
“No.”
“Is it milk?” He leaned toward me and purred. “Because this little kitty loves daddy’s milk.”
Resisting the urge to groan, I grabbed his chin. “Behave.”
He grinned at me, that cheeky spark back in his eyes. “Yes, daddy.” He opened the door but stopped. “Just so you know, I’m going to text you. It’s probably going to be filthy. Maybe even some photos of me naked. Maybe a video? Depends how horny I am without you.”
Before I could chastise him, or thank him—I wasn’t sure which was about to come out of my mouth—he laughed and got out of the car.
I sat and watched him as he walked to the end of the block and turned the corner. I was smiling, shaking my head, my heart happy. And, if I was completely honest, a little disappointed that he didn’t turn around for one last look.
I got my first text from him about half an hour later.
Miss me yet?
God, if only he knew . . .
Though, honestly, it was difficult to miss him when he’d barely left my thoughts at all.
I was in the supermarket and contemplated sending him a photo of my basket, showing the snacks and juice boxes I bought for him but worried he might think I was being ridiculous.
And that wasn’t even the most ridiculous thing...
Because when his text buzzed in my pocket, I was in the underwear aisle, looking specifically at what to get for him. I wasn’t even sure why... just something to wear under those tiny shorts. Because why not?
I was torn between getting him some dinosaur print actual boy underwear but wasn’t sure if that was a step too far.
Or some cute pink girl underwear instead. It was a strong contender... but again, was it a step too far?
Or the very normal boy trunks in sensible shades of blue.
Maybe I should ask him which he’d prefer... Would he think that was weird?
Then I thought fuck it. I was allowed some fun, right?
So I replied to his text.
I lined the three different packs of underwear up on the shelf and took a photo. I sent it to him.
Help me decide. Which little underwear should daddy buy for his very good boy?
A second later my phone rang, Fitch’s bee emoji lighting up my screen.
I smiled as I answered. “Hello,” I said, trying to be stern.
His laughter was warm and it sent a shiver through me. “Why are you buying me underwear?”
“Because I was under the impression you don’t own any.”
He laughed again. “I don’t wear them to your place because it’s easier access for you if I don’t.”
“Hm.” This was probably true, but still.
He made a happy sound. “If you don’t get me both the dinosaur and the pink ones with hearts on them, I’ll be devastated.”
I laughed. “What about the blue stripey ones?”
“They would have been perfectly fine if you just bought those and didn’t show me the other two options. I see a stegosaurus and cute little love hearts. Which ones do you think I’m going to choose?”
I chuckled as I put the blue ones back and tossed the other two into my basket. “I got the larger size, but they might be a bit tight on you.”
“Oh, I will squeeze every bit of me into those,” he murmured. “Make you work to get me out of them.”
“Hm,” I grunted at him. “I wasn’t sure on the pink ones,” I admitted. “Didn’t know what you’d think.”
“But you clearly like the idea of me in them,” he murmured. “You clearly know me better than you realise because I love the idea of them. But just so you know, I will wear whichever you put out for me. Whatever you want, daddy. However you like it.”
I damn near groaned in the middle of the grocery aisle.
His voice was small and smooth. “Are you thinking about it right now, daddy?”
Jesus H. Christ.
“How you’re gonna fuck me when you see me next? Gonna cram that huge cock into my tiny body, daddy?”
I bit back a groan and urged my dick to behave. I was in a supermarket, for fuck’s sake. “You’re being a brat.”
He laughed, such a happy carefree sound and I needed to change the subject.
He was totally playing me.
“Is there anything else I can get for you while I’m here?” I asked, trying to be as casual as I could. “Food, I mean. Nothing obscene. I’ll have to look online for that.”
He laughed again, though it faded to a hum. “Lollipops. I think we’re gonna need a lot of lollipops.”
He sent me another text on Monday night, and after the day I’d had, it made me smile.
Of course, it was a body shot of him. He seemed to be laying down on a bed, the room small and the walls a dirty blue. But he was wearing nothing but black trunks, his pale abs on display.
And a comment followed directly after.
Proof I do own them
I wanted to reply but didn’t know what to say without it sounding corny, so instead I hit Call.
He answered with a smile in his voice. “Hello, daddy.”
I leaned back on the sofa with a sigh. “Are you being a good boy?”
“Of course. I’m lying on my bed, watching TikToks on my phone. But I got bored and wondered what you were doing.”
“I’ve been home for twenty minutes.”
“You sound like you had a bad day.”
I sighed. “It was . . . long.”
He hummed. “Poor daddy. Is there anything I can do?”
If only he knew how much he was doing already. “No. Your text made me smile. But it was easier to call you than reply. I’m old, remember?”
He gasped. “You’re not old. You’re the perfect age.”
I smiled despite how old I felt. “Perfect age for what?”
“For being my daddy.”
Kinda walked right into that one.
God, how I wished he was here right now. Just to lie on the couch with me, to cuddle and hold.
Which was a dangerous thought... because that was more than just a sexual arrangement.
“Not working tonight?” I asked, and I regretted asking it the second it was out of my mouth.
“Nope. Mondays are quiet. Ky’s in his room. Benji’s not here so it’s kinda boring.”
It was quiet, no background noise even. “Nothing to watch on TV?”
He paused. “Wouldn’t know. We don’t have one.”
They didn’t have one?
“No? Why not?”
“Couldn’t afford one. Plus, we were rarely here, so I guess we just got used to not having one. I dunno.”
That just made me feel even worse.
“I’ll buy you one,” I said.
He snorted. “You’ll what? Why would you do that?”
“Because a daddy should look after his boy, yes?”
“You look after me plenty.” He paused for a long second. “Did you get the underwear though? Like I’m serious, that is something I will let you buy for me.”
I chuckled. “Yes.”
“I can’t wait to wear them.” He sighed dramatically. “But Friday is so far away!” Then his tone changed, “You know, and this is just general information I’m saying for no specific reason at all, but Ky meets with his daddies twice a week. It started once a week, but now they have him on Wednesday nights as well. Isn’t that just the craziest thing?”
I smiled. “That is crazy. And you’re just saying this for no specific reason at all?”
“Noooo reason at all . . .”
God, I think I had actual butterflies in my belly.
But this game he was playing, the sound of his voice, wishing he was here with me and not just on the phone...
Fuck, was I about to do this?
“Wednesdays, huh?”
“Tuesdays would work just as well,” he said quickly. “Probably better even. You know, Fridays, then Tuesdays. Kinda spaced out more evenly.”
For that moment, I was kinda glad he couldn’t see my face because I was grinning like a fool.
“And how would Tuesdays work?” I asked him.
“Well, they just happen all by themselves after Mondays,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything to them at all.”
I growled at him. “I meant how would they work for us, bratty boy?”
He laughed. “However you want. Actually, however you want me, you just say the word, and I’m down. But if you’re talking about times and cost, another hundred bucks and I’m yours from whenever you pick me up until you drop me off.”
Another hundred bucks. That made it a total of four hundred per week. Jesus. I mean, I could afford it easily.
The truth was, I’d pay a thousand.
I must have been too quiet because his voice sounded different on the other end.
“If you don’t want?—”
“Deal,” I said, because fucking hell, I wanted it. He had no idea how much. “I will pick you up on my way home from work every Tuesday.”
Fitch let out a long happy eeeee sound. “Thank you, daddy. God, I cannot wait.”
“Me either,” I admitted, then remembered that I was supposed to be stoic and stern. I cleared my throat. “I will text you when I’m leaving work with my ETA. Be ready.”
“Oh, I will.”
Happiness burned through me. I was fucking elated. “Be a good boy,” I said. “Go to bed early. You won’t be sleeping much tomorrow night.”
He laughed and it made me smile. “Good night, daddy.”
“Night.”
I disconnected the call before I could say something stupid like sweet dreams or sleep tight.
Then my phone beeped with another message.
This was a photo, very similar to the last one he’d sent me. Though this time, he was lifting the waistband of his trunks up so I could see his erection hiding in the fabric.
I’m hard for you already, daddy
Oh fuck.
Not trusting myself to call him again and tell him I was on my way to get him, I thumbed out a quick reply instead.
Don’t touch it. Save it for daddy tomorrow night.
I could just imagine him cursing me out while I couldn’t hear or see him.
Instead his reply was short and sweet.
Of course, daddy
I’d expected something bratty in response but no, it was serious. And it was the perfect good-boy response. That happiness that burned in me grew a little hotter. Something that might resemble contentment if I’d cared to study it a bit more.
But I didn’t.
Because overthinking this would kill it, and I didn’t want that.
I had no idea how long this arrangement would go on for, but I fully intended to enjoy it every second.
I wasn’t expecting to see Nolan at work the next morning, but with a quiet knock on my door, it was a nice surprise to see him. “Hey,” he said. “Got a sec?”
“Absolutely,” I said, pushing my keyboard away. “Come in.”
He sat across from me, and he looked a mix of tired, stressed, but something in him was different.
It took me a second to realise what it was.
Peacefulness.
“Benji’s down the hall, just going over some things with his new legal team,” he said.
I gave him a smile. “How is he?”
“Good,” Nolan said. “He’s happy now that he’s going ahead with the new evidence submission, like he’s stopped running. He just wants it all over with now.”
“Understandable.” I studied him some more, noting more of his tiredness. “And how about you?”
“I’m... I’m probably the best I’ve ever been,” he said, then shook his head at himself. “I mean, I’d probably sleep better without this whole godawful court case hanging over us, but...”
“But what?”
“But he’s worth it. He’s, um... he’s just really fucking great.” He laughed, his cheeks tinting pink.
“So the tiredness isn’t from lack of sleep by worrying all night, but rather he who shares your bed?”
His smile became a grin and he scoffed as he shook his head. “Like you can talk. A little bratty birdie you may know told my little birdie all about it.”
I looked around the offices, the glass walls, the people working, but no one was paying us any attention. “A little bratty birdie, huh? Pray tell, what has my little bratty birdie been whistling about?”
Nolan laughed and put both his hands up. “No details. Well, not to me. I’m sure he tells Benji all about it though. Those two are terrible when they get together.”
I found myself smiling despite myself. Little bratty birdie indeed.
“He’s... uh, he’s trouble, that’s what he is.”
“Your smile tells a different story.”
I shot him a glare for calling me out like that, but then I rolled my eyes. “I’m seeing him again tonight,” I admitted quietly. I probably should talk to someone about this and maybe Leon and Marek were a better fit, but Nolan was sitting across from me and asking questions, so... So, Nolan it was. “We’re moving on from one night per week to two nights per week. He has a basket of clothes in my wardrobe and his own toothbrush in my bathroom.”
Nolan’s smile became a knowing smirk. “Sounds serious.”
“It’s absurd how fast this has become... something it was never supposed to be.”
“Or,” Nolan began, his smile turning wry, “you could just roll with it.”
I sighed, because sure, that was so much easier said than done.
“For what it’s worth, Dominic,” he said, serious now. “Benji said Fitch is happy. Happier than he’s been in a long time. And that he likes you. Whatever you do to him,” he said. Then he put his hand up. “I don’t want the details, but whatever it is you two have going on is what Fitch needs.”
I stared at him for a long moment, the urge to say it’s what I need as well was right on the tip of my tongue...
But I didn’t say it.
“And you need it too, I’m guessing,” Nolan said. My gaze shot to his and his smile turned wry. “You’ll get no judgement from me, you know that. We like what we like, and if we’re all consenting adults and happy, then what’s the problem?”
I sighed and Nolan stared at me for a long beat.
“The problem,” he answered for me. “The problem is you like him. You have feelings for him and it scares the shit outta you.”
I winced and covered my face with my hands before running them through my hair.
“And this is part of the problem,” I said. “The fact you can pick me apart in under two minutes means that whatever Fitch has done to me isn’t good. I feel... exposed. Like he’s blown me wide open.” I shook my head, exasperated. “I don’t know... I don’t know what to think or what to feel. He’s young, he’s going to move on eventually. How do I know if he likes me for me or is just after the money? He’s a rent boy for fuck’s sake,” I whispered.
Nolan leaned forward, his eyes defensive and furious. “He’s a grown man who was dealt a really shitty hand in life, and he finds solace with you. Don’t you dare lessen his humanity by what position he found himself in, because that means you think less of Benji too, and I won’t fucking stand for it.”
I cringed back, mad at myself. “No, that’s not what... that’s not... fuck. Sorry. I know that. I don’t think any less of them. I don’t, honestly. But you’re right. I have feelings for him, and I worry about what that means for me when he wants to move on. I haven’t let myself feel this way in...” I sighed. “A long time.”
Nolan sat back in his seat. “And?”
“And I worry... what do I tell people?” This was so fucking stupid. “What do I tell people when they ask how we met? Or what he does for a living? It’s not exactly legal and—” I motioned between us. “And we are public defenders, Nolan. I’m also twenty-six years older than him. Twenty-six years. Jesus Christ.”
“Then end it,” he said flatly.
I stared at him, stunned. “What?”
“Break up with him. Tell him your agreement is over.”
The thought alone made my heart squeeze painfully. “Why? That’s not what I want?—”
He smirked at me. “That’s your true answer right there. If you really want to be with him because the thought of not seeing him again makes you feel ill, then everything else is inconsequential.”
Fuck.
“Have you considered being lead counsel?” I asked flatly. “Because you walked me straight into that.”
He laughed. “Nothing else matters,” he said. “If he means to you what I think he does, then what other people think or say doesn’t mean jack shit.”
Could it really be that easy?
“You know,” Nolan added, “when you came to my place with the file on Benji, it was a pivotal moment for me. Like tossing a coin and making me choose which side I had to defend. It was Benji, without doubt. Not my career, not even you. I chose him, and none of that inconsequential shit mattered.”
“Your career and friendship with me are inconsequential shit?”
He smirked. “If you asked me to choose again right now, I’d choose Benji every time. Is it going to be easy? No. Will it always be sunshine and roses? No. But I’d choose him anyway.”
“What’s your point?”
“You need a pivotal moment. A split second to choose. Not a hypothetical; a real yes or no moment. Is he worth risking it all for?” Nolan shrugged. “Pretty sure you already know your answer. You’re just trying to justify the collateral damage.”
Collateral damage . . .
Because being with Fitch would have fallout.
“I don’t think it’s a question of whether I think he’s worth it,” I admitted quietly. “Because he is. The question is whether I’m brave enough to withstand the fallout.”
Nolan didn’t have a response for that. Or maybe he was just letting me get my thoughts in order.
“I want to spoil him,” I said quietly. “I want to give him everything. And the thought of another man even touching him makes me so angry. Like fucking livid. Every time I ask if he’s working later or if he’d worked the night before, jealousy burns so deep I can barely breathe. And it’s not fair on him. I want him to belong to me, every goddamn day, not just twice a week.” I groaned, mad at myself for saying this shit out loud. “Sorry.”
“You need to speak to him,” Nolan said simply. “Tell him everything you’ve told me.”
I rolled my eyes because sure, nothing like putting your heart on your sleeve.
“He might surprise you,” Nolan added. Then he grinned. “He’ll probably want to be your full-time live-in boy. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
God, how I loved the sound of that.
Nolan laughed. “Yeah, I can tell you think that sounds terrible. Lemme tell you, it’s perfect. Having Benji staying with me is like?—”
A sharp rap on the door made us both turn. It was Adrian, the new lead in Benji’s case. “Got a sec?” he asked Nolan. Then he looked at me. “Both of you.”
I sent Fitch a text at 6:05 pm.
Leaving now. I’ll pull up on Wylde. Don’t be late.
His reply was almost instant.
Already waiting
The heaviness in my chest eased up a little, simply knowing I’d be seeing him soon.
It was ridiculous, this infatuation, this obsession with Fitch. With just having him with me, having him close, it settled something in me.
A beast I didn’t even know needed taming.
And when he opened the passenger door and slid into his seat, smiling at me, that peaceful feeling settled over me.
Was this my pivotal moment?
My deciding factor?
Knowing the peace I found with him was saving me?
I wasn’t sure if it was pivotal, but it surely brought home a few truths.
My need for him was without question.
Would I risk everything for him?
That, I wasn’t sure.
“You have no idea how long today dragged,” he said, his eyes big, his smile contagious. “I was so excited all day, waiting and waiting, I think Ky was glad to get rid of me.”
I fought a smile. “Excited, huh?”
“Oh yes,” he replied. “I now have two favourite days of the week. Monday, Daddyday, Wednesday, Thursday, Daddyday.”
I couldn’t help it. I chuckled. “Daddyday.”
He nodded happily. “Yep. Which outfit does daddy want me to wear tonight?”
I groaned, my balls drawing down at the thought. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, just so you know,” he said, “I’m fully ready for you, and I’m not wearing any underwear again. So if you want, you can fuck me the second we get through the door.”
Now my dick was already filling. “You being a brat again?”
He shook his head earnestly, eyes wide, feigning innocence, and sliding his hand up my inner thigh. “No daddy. I thought it would make you happy. Do you not like it when I get myself ready for you?”
I spared him a side-eye, trying to be stern. “I do like it, yes. You’re a good boy for daddy.”
He preened at the compliment, genuinely happy. “Thank you, daddy.”
“Have you eaten?”
He shook his head shyly. “No, daddy.”
“Then I’ll be sure to feed you.”
He licked his lips and his hand got closer to my crotch, like the slutty brat he was. “Oh yes, thank you, daddy. I’ll drink it all.”
I growled at him. “I was talking about real food.” He sat back and pouted, and it made me smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll get enough of both.”
He gave me a sultry smile. “I’m a hungry boy, daddy. Just so you know.”