Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Cole
“Do you really think our parents will be okay with this?”
We’d been on the road for hours, and Peyton had been quiet for most of it, aside from asking for bathroom breaks.
In order to make it to Louisville by dinnertime, we’d been up before the roosters, so I didn’t question their silence.
They’d been periodically drawing on their tablet, setting it aside when they grew queasy.
We’d already stopped because of their stomach a few times—something Jesse often complained about, according to Peyton.
They’d always had the tendency to get carsick.
We’d luckily made the long journey without any vomiting but as they set their tablet aside one last time, I braced myself—I did not like the color on their face.
Dressed in their usual alternative style, someone could easily miss the subtle signs of them fighting their regression—the way their thumb would gravitate toward their mouth, or the pacifier clipped to their shirt.
Motion sickness combined with nerves had them hovering on the edge of Little space, and it wouldn’t take much for them to fall right into it.
They’d chosen makeup today, and the bright midday sun glittered off their kohl-rimmed eyes—a deep, festive green versus their usual black. A soft pink blush dusted their cheeks, but it was nowhere near as striking as their natural color.
“Why wouldn’t they be okay with it?” I asked, searching for somewhere to stop to settle their stomach.
“I don’t know,” Peyton mumbled, swallowing. They stared out the window, nail fixed between their teeth.
“Our families have been entwined for years, Peyton.” I reached over, hooking my finger around the pacifier clip and feeling down until I held their soother in my hand. With a quick glance, I offered it to them. Tinted windows made it easy to hide, but they still leaned into their hand anyway.
“I think my brain is just expecting the worst. Jesse already said that everyone’s asking questions.”
I dropped my hand to Peyton’s thigh. Their brother had gone home a few days ago and usually, Peyton would have ridden with him.
I could imagine that him showing up alone would raise some eyebrows.
“If that’s the case,” I said, “then there’s a big chance that they already know. Look how well Jesse took it.”
Peyton didn’t respond to that. They took a few deep breaths, clutching their abdomen, but it was in vain. “I’m about to be sick.”
Thankfully, I’d already pulled into a rest area. Peyton leapt out of the truck and vomited onto the pavement. I stood to their side, rubbing their back and making sure their hair stayed out of their face. “You were right,” they said between heaves. “Coffee was a bad idea.”
I chuckled. I had said that when we stopped for lunch, but I also wasn’t about to lose a finger taking it away from them—even I knew better.
While they caught their breath, I grabbed the bag I’d prepared from the backseat.
When Peyton straightened, emerald streaked down both cheeks.
They made a lazy attempt at wiping the liner away, but it only smeared the kohl across their face.
“I didn’t bring makeup remover,” they said bashfully.
“That’s okay; you’ve got a Daddy to worry about that stuff now.”
People stared as Peyton and I disappeared into the family restroom together, but their opinions didn’t matter much to me.
As I suspected, getting sick had tipped Peyton over into Little space.
The plan had been to go straight to their mom’s place for a late lunch before dinner with my parents but as I helped them get changed, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
I gently wiped the makeup from their face and while they brushed their teeth, I called Jesse to say that I’d be taking them straight to bed.
“They’re going to think we’re having sex,” Peyton said, bending over to spit out a mouthful of toothpaste.
I leaned against the wall, waiting for them to finish. The rest area was quiet, so we’d taken our time. “They can think what they want. We’ll only look more guilty if we argue.”
They rinsed and packed their toothbrush away, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I stepped forward and brought them into my arms, kissing their hair. “Are you feeling better?”
Hesitantly, they nodded. “I just want to get the drive over with.”
We caught some glances as we left the restroom together, but I didn’t care.
I guided Peyton back to the truck, helping them up and buckling their seat belt.
Not that they needed it—they’d been jumping in and out of trucks since they could walk—but judging by the way they simply…
submitted, they didn’t mind. As I moved to close the door, they snapped their hand down to mine to trap it there.
One thing I knew about Peyton? They wore their heart on their sleeve. If you paid close enough attention, they didn’t need to speak to be understood. And in that moment? They were petrified. They truly thought that something would go south the moment we walked into our parents’ homes.
I gave their hand a squeeze, stamping my lips to their cheek. “You have nothing to worry about, baby.”
Since my parents had a spare property that happened to be empty, we were staying there. Once we got settled, Peyton slept for hours.
They hadn’t let me dress them in Little clothes, but they laid next to me in my T-shirt and their underwear.
Even their binder laid on the nightstand, next to the empty bottle they’d insisted on.
I was worried about the milk since they’d been sick, but when they got fussy and rubbed at teary eyes, I couldn’t deny them.
My hand stroked over their stomach, thumb brushing the piercing through their belly button.
With a sweet little sound, they snuggled closer.
“Five more minutes,” they pleaded, clenching my shirt in their fist.
“You make it so hard to say no, Peyton.”
“Then don’t.”
“Come on, sweetheart…” My lips brushed their forehead. A sigh, and they folded into me. “Don’t make me the bad guy. Besides, I can feel your tummy rumbling. You must be hungry.”
“Oh, I’m hungry, but not for food.”
Peyton tipped their head back, sealing our mouths together.
Their warm, wet tongue prodded at my lips, and I happily opened up for them—holding them in place by my hand on their hip.
I could not lose myself in them right now.
Not when we had somewhere to be. There was no way I could duck out of two meals in one day, especially when people likely already knew about us. We had to rip off the band-aid.
But I could indulge my partner for a few minutes.
A slender thigh slid between my legs, providing friction for my rapidly swelling cock.
Wet heat washed over my bare skin. God, I’d never get over that feeling; the one of being able to have Peyton dripping in the blink of an eye.
I ghosted my hand across their waist, clenching onto their ass and hauling them closer.
Sighing, they dropped their head back, a silent plea for me to continue south.
Despite how much I loved that idea, I pressed a single, tender kiss to their neck.
“Get up, Peyton,” I commanded. “Get dressed. If you can make it through this dinner, I promise I’ll eat you for dessert. ”
Before I lost myself, I rolled away and stood from the bed.
Peyton whimpered. They laid in the middle of the mattress, chest heaving.
Dim light streamed in from the bathroom, highlighting their slick, sweat-sheened skin.
When they peered up at me through their lashes, lust-blown eyes fluttering shut, I knew I was in trouble.
“Please, Daddy?” they begged in that breathy moan that drove me wild.
Legs wide open, they gave me a full view of the damp spot on their gray underwear.
With a deep breath to get my libido under control, I beckoned them closer. “Come here.”
Peyton scrambled to the side of the bed, letting their legs fall to either side of mine. They hooked their fingers behind the waistband of my boxer briefs, but I stopped them there. Instead, I leaned in and nosed along their jaw. “You want to be good for me; don’t you, sweetheart?”
They shuddered in my arms. “Yes, Daddy.”
I decided to indulge them, but only for a moment. I let my hand dip between their legs, cupping my palm over their slick arousal. It wasn’t enough, and their hips bucked for more. “That means you’re willing to wait, right?”
“Daddy…”
“Believe me, little one—” I took their free hand in mine, guiding it to my crotch. They squeezed, and my knees threatened to buckle. “I’d love nothing more than to stay here and rail into you until you’re begging me to stop.”
A delicious whimper.
“But what I would love even more is to take you home, knowing that once we get back here, you’re mine.” I growled the last word, stepping out of Peyton’s grip.
They sat on the edge of the bed, trembling. “You’re so mean.”
“I could be meaner.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Peyton slid off the bed and reached for their jeans.
While they had their back turned, I pulled something out of my bag. Then, when they least expected it, I snatched their pants away and bent them over the bed, pulling a gasp right out of them. “Let me show you.”