Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Dylan
Sam was sulking, and it was quite possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
Normally, he only caught peeks of her Little side when she got excited about something, like the time she’d come to visit Ethan at school and the three of them had gone to the National Aquarium in Baltimore.
When she’d squealed with delight the first time a shark swam past them, he’d fallen more than a little bit in love with her.
That had been almost three years ago, and he’d spent every spare moment in the time between then and now learning how to be the best fucking Daddy anyone had ever had.
Now, watching her at the table as she peeled the last potato, her bottom lip pushed out into just a hint of a pout, he was eager to jump in feet first. But the last thing he wanted to do was rush in and scare her off, so he forced himself to wait until she carried the final batch of potatoes to him.
“Thank you.” He deliberately used the same inflection he had when he’d said Good girl earlier, and it was rather delightful to watch her eyes widen, to hear the little hitch in her breath.
“Sure. I can finish cutting those up, if you want.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Have it your way,” she mumbled as she shifted gears to check on the pork chops instead.
“That smells incredible, Sam.”
“It’s just a bunch of stuff dumped in the crock pot. Nothing special.”
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spank or fuck the attitude out of her, but since she probably wouldn’t agree to either option before they had their talk, he forced himself to concentrate on chopping the damn potatoes.
When the last chunks were dumped in the giant metal bowl she’d provided, he moved to the sink to wash his hands. “All yours.”
“Thanks.” They switched spots at the counter and he watched as she pulled out the milk and butter and the hand mixer, fascinated by her graceful movements. It was almost hypnotic, the way she moved, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she would look rising over him in the dark as she rode his cock.
Figuring she couldn’t do too much damage with a hand mixer, even if she got distracted, he leaned back against the sink and studied her a few moments longer. “Would you like to know what I wanted to talk about, now?”
“If you feel like it.”
Brat. He had such a weakness for brats. And even more of a weakness for her, specifically. “First, I have a question.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Do you know what a Daddy is? Not a father or a dad, but a Daddy.”
Freezing in the act of shoving the beaters into the mixer, she looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “Do you know what a Daddy is?”
“I do.”
“Really? Enlighten me, then.” Her tone of voice clearly said it was a challenge. And it was one he was more than happy to meet.
“A Daddy is a type of Dominant. Generally one who takes on a caregiver role with his submissive.” He waited a beat, his heart hammering at his chest as he prepared to drop the real bomb. “Or his Little.”
There it was again, that slight widening of her eyes, the catch in her breathing. “Interesting.”
Of all the responses he’d prepared himself for, that casual, deliberately uninterested tone hadn’t been one of them, and he had to fight back a wave of frustration that she wasn’t playing along as he’d hoped. “I happen to find it incredibly interesting, yes.”
“And why is that?”
Finally. The opening he’d been looking for. “Because I very much want to be your Daddy, Samantha.”
Sam
There was no way she’d heard him correctly. Zero. Zilch.
Nada.
“What did you say?” Even to her own ears her voice seemed too breathless, too full of the painful hope beating at her chest.
“I said, I very much want to be your Daddy, Samantha.”
Okay, so she had heard him correctly. Unless she was actually passed out on her kitchen floor and this was some weird ass dream.
Thank god she hadn’t yet turned the mixer on, because if this wasn’t a dream, she was fairly certain they’d both be covered in chunks of potato by now. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why do you want to be my Daddy? No, wait, back up. What makes you think I’d even be interested in that kind of relationship?”
One corner of his mouth kicked up in a knowing smirk that made her wish she had actually covered him in chunks of potato. “I already told you why. I want to take care of you, Sam. I’ve been wanting to for a really long time.”
“Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t need or want a Daddy.” The lie rolled easily off her tongue, but left her stomach in knots. Maybe she didn’t need one, but she wanted one so badly she physically ached with it at times.
That didn’t mean she was going to confess all of that to a man nearly half her age. A man who happened to be her son’s best friend.
A woman needed some dignity, after all.
“Fair warning, once you agree to be my Little girl, lies like that will get you a clothespin on the tongue.”
There had to be something fundamentally wrong with her that her clit throbbed at his threat. “First of all, I’m not lying. Second of all, why would I agree to let anyone, let alone you, put a fucking clothespin on my tongue?”
“Because you crave it.” Pushing away from the sink, he moved behind her, boxing her in with both of his hands on the counter on either side of her, his chest pressed to her back.
Even through the thick denim of his jeans, she could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her ass.
“You want to be able to let go, to let someone else be in charge for a little while. To let someone else, anyone else make all the decisions you’ve been making all by yourself for the past twenty-four years. ”
He wasn’t wrong. But there was no possible way she could go there with him. “Even if that were true, I wouldn’t want that with you.”
“Why not? Because I’m a few years younger than you?”
“A few? Try almost seventeen years younger than me. I’m literally old enough to be your mother, Dylan. And in case you’ve forgotten, I am your best friend’s mother. Which is the main reason why what you want can never happen.”
“Ethan will understand. Eventually.” Lifting his hands from the counter, he gently pulled the mixer from her hands and set it off to the side before turning her to face him.
The earnestness, the hunger in his gaze nearly stole her breath away.
“Sam. Just give me a chance. I promise you won’t regret it. ”
Without giving her a chance to answer, he bowed his head, capturing her lips with his own in a kiss so tender she actually sighed as the sweetness rolled through her. As far as first kisses went, it was really rather nice.
And then he pressed her back against the counter, his fingers digging into her hips, and everything changed.
In a lightning strike, he deepened the kiss, and she swore she could taste his need and frustration as he forced her to open for him. Her hands came up, clinging to his shirt for dear life as he swept her up in a torrent of want and need and promised decadence.
By the time he lifted his head again, her lips felt swollen and bruised, and every inch of her ached with need. “Dylan…”
“I’d much prefer Daddy,” he said with a low chuckle. “But we’ll get there.”
“No, we won’t. We can’t.” Someone had to be the adult here, and she was pretty sure it was going to have to be her. “Ethan—”
“You’ve lived an entire lifetime doing what was best for Ethan. He’s a big boy now. Don’t you think it’s time to do what’s best for Samantha for once?”
When he said it like that, it was almost enough to convince her. “I wish it were that easy.”
“It could be, if you’d let it.”
“No, it couldn’t. It would still be messy and I don’t like messy.”
“All right.” Disappointment laced his tone as he eased back. “But I’m not giving up on us, Samantha.”
As if he hadn’t just rocked her entire world by declaring he wanted to be her Daddy and then kissing the living daylights out of her, he stepped to the side and opened the cabinet where she kept the plates. “I’ll set the table while you finish up the potatoes.”
With her body still humming with need, she turned back around to face the bowl of potatoes she no longer had any interest in. Her entire being was consumed by thoughts of Dylan. Of Dylan kissing her, touching her, fucking her.
Daddying her.
Forcing the distracting thoughts from her mind, she shoved the remaining beater into the mixer and plugged it in.
But when she stuck the beaters into the bowl and flipped the switch, she wasn’t met with the soft, giving flesh of boiled potatoes but the completely rock-solid form of raw ones instead.
It took her a moment before her brain processed why the potatoes weren’t mashing, but once it did, she immediately dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.
Standing at her kitchen counter, with the mixer still uselessly beating at the raw fucking potatoes, she laughed until tears streamed down her face and her sides ached.
“Sam? Are you okay?”
She was dimly aware of him taking the mixer from her hand and turning it off, of the panic in his voice as he repeated her name over and over.
Finally managing to draw in a gasping breath, she did her best to explain through the giggles. “We… forgot… to… boil… the… fucking… potatoes!”
There was a long, dramatic pause, before his laughter joined her own. “How the hell did you forget to boil them?”
“You distracted me!”
“Fair enough.” Again his hands came to rest on her hips, his head dipping down so he could nuzzle at the side of her neck, sending little shockwaves of need arcing through her. “Why don’t you put some water on the stove and let me distract you some more?”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“One hundred percent.”
Shaking her head, she crouched to pull a pot from one of the bottom cabinets, her gaze landing on the unicorn decorating her hand. Dylan had been so sweet as he’d bandaged her up. Making sure the cut was clean, taking care of her.
Being a total Daddy.
With those thoughts rolling around in her brain, she rose again to fill the pot with water as her guest moved around the kitchen, setting the table as promised. Once the pot was filled and heating on the stove, she turned back around to find him seated on a chair, watching her.
Had he been doing that the whole time they’d known each other, and she just somehow had never noticed? It was entirely possible, considering the thought of him wanting her had never even crossed her mind.
Leaning back against the counter, she studied him right back, letting the silence fill the space between them.
Not the heavy, oppressive kind she’d gotten used to toward the end of her marriage, but the easy kind that often settled between two people who had long since grown comfortable with each other.
Though there was, undeniably, a charge in the air that hadn’t ever been there before. Or if it had, she certainly hadn’t noticed it.
Which begged the question. Was she that oblivious, or had he just been more careful about hiding his attraction?
A little of both, if she had to guess.
“I have a question,” she said at length, amused when he instantly sat up straight, an eager student waiting to show off for his teacher.
“Ask away.”
“Why do you want to be a Daddy? It can’t just be because you want to take care of me. Even if we were going to start a relationship—which we are not—there are plenty of ways to take care of your partner without being a Daddy.”
“That’s a good question.” The approval in his tone spoke to the parts of her that yearned to please, to be told she was a good girl, and she just managed to stop herself from beaming at him in response.
“I’ve had an interest in kink for as long as I can remember.
So when the opportunity came up to join a group in Baltimore and have someone mentor me, I jumped at it. ”
Jesus, this conversation was surreal. And completely inappropriate, but it was a little late to turn back now. “Someone taught you how to be a Daddy?”
“Eventually, yes. At first, I was just interested in being a Dom. But the more I learned, the more I realized I wasn’t interested in the harsher side of BDSM. I wanted someone to take care of. I was drawn to the idea of having someone depend on me, look to me for guidance.”
“You could get that from any relationship.”
“Possibly. But I don’t want just any relationship.
I managed to get myself invited to a Littles event, and I was hooked.
It’s difficult to explain, but it was like…
like I’d just discovered the missing piece of my soul.
” Looking somewhat embarrassed, he shrugged.
“That sounds like I’m waxing poetic and being ridiculous, but it’s the truth. ”
“It doesn’t sound ridiculous.” It sounded like exactly how she’d felt the first time she’d read a Daddy book. Like someone had ripped her open and put her own thoughts, her own desires right there on the page. “Have you had a Little before?”
Dangerous ground, girl. And it was, especially since it was none of her business. Those were the types of questions she would ask someone she was seriously considering as a partner. Which she wasn’t. At all.
Not even a little bit.
“I’ve talked to several, even played with a few so that I could learn. But no, I’ve never had a long-term relationship with a Little. I’ve never really had a long-term relationship with anyone.”
That surprised her, even more than his declaration that he wanted to be her Daddy. “Really? Why not?”
“I wasn’t really interested in romance in high school. I had… other priorities.”
There was more there, and she wanted so badly to dig up whatever it was. Ethan had hinted a few times that Dylan’s childhood had been less than ideal, but she’d never pressed for details. Now, she was wishing she’d been just a little bit nosier.
“What about college? The way Ethan talks, you had girls throwing themselves at your feet.” Young girls with nubile bodies that hadn’t gone soft with age and child-bearing.
“I suppose. But they all had the same fatal flaw.”
“And what was that?”
Rising from his chair, he closed the distance between them to cup her face in his hands. Just that simple touch sent her heart racing and slicked her palms with sweat. “They weren’t you.”