Chapter 8 HENRY
Asking Leo to stay the night was something I’d wanted to do last night but he’d gone to sleep with his teddies. I wanted to be as close to him as possible; it was a nice feeling when he was around. Like the sun was directly on me but without the fear of burning alive.
I occupied myself with getting some more baking done and sending out more of the taster boxes to the town mayor and other businesses, but not the competing bakery, which I wasn’t in competition with as they mostly did bread and pastry—okay, perhaps there was going to be a little bit of competition there because I enjoyed toying around with a croissant here and there.
Leo arrived at the bakery just after eight. He had a huge backpack almost weighing him down and he smelled fruity but fresh. I helped him into the store with his bike before I could really get at him with a hug and a kiss.
“All afternoon, people asked if I was sick,” he said. “Think they thought the soup stain was some type of disease.”
“Good to see it’s gone now,” I said, kissing him again on the lips. “And you smell so good.”
“I managed to grab a shower and do some laundry,” he said. “I didn’t want the soup to stain my clothes. Luckily, I put some stain remover detergent in with the load and viola, it was gone.”
As I began hooking my fingers under the bag on his back, I felt the real heft and weight behind it. “Are you moving in?” I asked.
“No, why?” his face dropped into an innocent smile. “Oh. I brought things.”
“I was just joking. Have you eaten?” I asked. “I haven’t, so I’m ready to make some supper.”
“I had a little snack earlier, but if you’re cooking, I can definitely eat.”
“Good boy, that’s what I like to hear.”
I locked up the bakery and walked through with him into the kitchen. I’d thought about supper quite a bit. I’d surfed the internet, seeking information for what I could make for him. It had resulted in a lot of different ideas.
“Every time I come in here, my stomach kicks into gear and it’s like my mouth is just open wide,” he said, placing his bag on the counter with a thud. “I did bring my special bowl and cutlery too.”
“What do you want to eat?” I asked him. Better to ask the source rather than make a guess, but I was prepared for anything. “And I was wondering if you had special things like that.”
“Well, I have a collection at my place, so maybe this one can stay here,” he said. “Not like I’m moving in, but if you’re making food and I’m eating food, I want to make sure I’m having it from my special bowl.”
I leaned in and put a hard kiss on his forehead. “That’s some good forward thinking,” I told him. “And I like cooking for you. In fact, let me show you the fridge. I’ve added a couple of new things to it.”
There was a fridge upstairs, but I really didn’t like using the upstairs kitchen when this incredible one was right here. That would all change once the bakery was fully operational, though, mostly because it would be too busy to also accommodate lunch and dinner.
In the large fridge, I’d sectioned off an area with food I’d bought earlier in the day, and some I’d ventured out for upon learning from the internet.
There was fresh fish—cut, breaded, and ready to make some gourmet fish sticks from.
There were also hot dogs and a whole bunch of different meats for sandwiches too.
“You have macaroni?” he asked.
“Ding!” I said, pointing at him. “I bought some today. Mac and cheese?”
“Really?”
“Yep, something”—the internet—“told me you might like mac and cheese. Call it a hunch, or maybe I just know you so well already.”
He giggled. “I always make it from the box and then put it in one of those little oven trays and bake it with some breadcrumbs. It makes the best ever.”
“Best I can do is fresh. No boxed mac and cheese here.”
“Whatever you think is best, I trust you. And I also want to help.”
“Then let’s get you an apron.”
It was nice to have someone who wanted to be in the kitchen with me, and this one was big enough for the two of us, especially when we had the same goal. A delicious mac and cheese to fill his little stomach.
As I put an apron on him from behind, I gave his neck a little kiss. He shuddered and giggled, letting out a shimmy that had him backing up against me.
With all the ingredients out, we started to cook up a storm for this non-boxed mac and cheese that I was sure would blow Leo’s mind right out of the water. He’d never be able to go back once he’d tried mine.
“You know, I’m not just trying to feed you,” I said after a moment of inner concern.
“I know, you’re also wanting to read and play too,” he said.
“Okay, good, I’m glad you know that, because I do love cooking for you, I just don’t want you to think I’m here trying to force you to eat every time we’re together.” It was a running theme, even before we were making out and discovering this new dynamic.
He chuckled. “I’d love to cook for you, but I always burn most of my food, and don’t get me wrong, I love the taste of burned, but it’s an acquired one.”
“Yeah, maybe we should leave the hot food to me. You can take over cold stuff, like sandwiches.”
He nodded. “I do make a mean s’more, though,” he said. “Because you’ve got to burn those.”
“Well, not quite burn, but sure, you char the marshmallows on the outside, and make sure they’re all soft and gooey and a bit like molten lava on the inside,” I said.
And I’d bought ingredients for s’mores, they were on the list of playful foods, alongside messy, which was another running theme for our encounters. It was fitting, though.
We had the mac and cheese together, all mixed in and thickened with many different cheeses. It was time to put it in a glass tray and add a layer of crumbs and a little more cheese before baking. Once the top was covered in foil, I slipped it into the oven. I turned and looked at my little chef.
“Oh,” I said, looking him up and down.
“What?” he asked.
He’d managed to get melted cheese down the front of the apron. “Were you helping yourself to it when I asked you to stir?”
Wiping his chin as if that’s what gave him away, he shook his head. “No, I’d never do that.”
“Did you just lie to me?”
Finally, he caught on to what I’d seen. “Oh. That’s not from—okay, I lied. I tried a little bit, but I needed to know it was good.”
“And is it?”
He nodded. “Very.”
“Okay, well, we’ve got about half an hour. You wanna help me clean?” I asked.
“Only if you’re not mad at me for lying,” he said with a big pout on his lips.
“I think a kiss would solve that.”
A single kiss just wasn’t enough, though. Leo jumped up and wrapped his legs around my waist. There was no stopping our tongues once they’d started, and this time there was no whipped-cream canister between us to make a mess.
“I think I’m ready to see your bedroom,” he said into my ear, and his breathy whisper made all my muscles contract. Squeezing him in place around me, I carried him up the stairs and made a beeline right for my bedroom door.
Leo’s lips latched onto my neck, sucking and kissing.
“Are you leaving me a hickey?” I asked, gently lowering his back down onto the bed. “Or are you secretly a vampire?”
He shied away from me as he lay on the bed. “I just wanted to make sure nobody else tries it on with you.”
“So you were leaving a mark.” It was good to know. “Now I get to leave one on you.”
“Be my guest, Daddy,” he said, wiggling around. “Also, your bed is so comfy. You’re never going to get me to leave now.”
I knelt at the foot of the bed and pulled his shoes off. “You can stay in this bed for as long as you like, but there’s a rule I haven’t told you about.”
Picking his head up to look at me, he asked, “What?”
“When you’re on Daddy’s bed, you’re only allowed to wear Daddy approved clothes, or you’ve got to be completely naked,” I said. “And I haven’t approved any of your clothes yet.”
He didn’t need a reason to get naked, he was already there, thumbing the loops in his shorts and pulling them down his thighs, his crotch now only covered by the end of the apron. “I think I’m complying with those rules, Daddy.”
I slipped a hand up his thigh, but before getting too high, I pulled it back, yanking his shorts all the way off him. His dick was imprinted in the apron, but it was already due to be cleaned from the mess he’d made on the front. “Not quite,” I said. “You’ve still got plenty of clothes on.”
Pushing himself up on his elbows, he nodded. “And what about your clothes?”
“I’m not on the bed.”
“You put me on the bed.”
“There’s another rule,” I said, a smirk widening across my lips. “No talking back when you’re on the bed.”
He lay back again, wiggling himself in place. “I would get up, but it’s too nice.”
I sat on the bed, and he immediately sprang into action, his hands under my T-shirt, trying to pull it over my head.
It wasn’t going to happen that easily, though.
I took my shoes off, then my socks . . .
slowly, measured, teasing him although we didn’t have time to tease.
In fact, we were practically being timed.
“Can I leave another mark?” he asked. “I just want something to suck.”
“Oh, you’ve got a naughty tongue, little one,” I said. “Only if I get to give you one in return.” I gave in, removing my apron and in turn giving in to his help removing my clothes.
His hands were all excited, scrambling across my body, going through my chest hair, and even giving it a gentle tug and pull like he was making sure it was real. “I have ideas on where I want to bite next,” he said.
“You’ve got fangs all of a sudden, huh?” I asked, removing his apron and beginning to get him undressed at the same time. “As long as you give those little bites some big kisses.”