Daddy for His Shy Little

Chapter 1

Kairo

“Truce! Truce! Truce!”

The chant grew stronger and the club crowd parted.

But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Besides, drunk guys egged fights on, didn’t they?

When the crowd by the door parted and I could see what was happening, my throat went instantly dry.

There, walking forward as if parting a sea, was a man wearing a black vest, no shirt, and tight black pants. Even his tall boots were black. It was startling. His tan glowed, his dark hair was slicked back and chin held high.

A slow tremor worked its way through my body.

Flamboyant described him. And as he enjoyed every moment of attention, clearly narcissism. He must have been famous, at least for this two-story venue, since everybody seemed to know him. Truce.

My mouth dropped open. I should have been embarrassed. Not my type, I kept repeating to myself. But it was as if my brain and my thoughts we're two different entities because I couldn't make myself look away.

Truce.

It was his name, but it felt like a command.

He was definitely older than I was, maybe by ten years. Or more. He didn’t give off any vibe I might allow myself to look for. Not soft-spoken. Not mature. Not “Daddy.”

I hugged my butterfly squishy close to my chest. My mouth stayed open. I forgot to breathe as he came closer and closer, the crowd surrounding him like a human cloak. Then, he walked right by me without even a glance.

I let out the huge breath I’d been holding. Good. No worries there. Sure, he was handsome. Devastatingly so. Maybe my insides might be melting. Maybe if he had given me one tiny split-second gaze I might have even fainted. But that certainly didn’t create any connection.

In an eyeblink, he was quickly gone. Out of sight.

I told myself I’d dodged a bullet. Instinct told me his type were takers, not givers. They won all the gay community popularity contests but most likely couldn’t hold a conversation longer than to say, “I’m an Aries. What are you?”

Yep. It was best to close my mouth, stop sweating and ask the bartender for my next drink to be ice water. Or better, a juice box.

Deep breath. Forget about him. Someone named Truce was surely trouble. It had to be a nickname. Something he’d earned because he was manipulative, forceful, controlling.

Controlling?

Nope. Not going there.

Another deep breath. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw,” I whispered to myself.

Just then, someone bumped my side. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Did you see that guy?” It was Kimmie, another little I’d just met in the drink line.

This had been my first night out in years.

Kimmie had been around the block once or twice.

His blue eyes had sparkled as we’d talked, me asking questions, Kimmie all excited to lead me around like he had become my own personal adviser.

We soon discovered we had similar kinks.

We spent the past couple hours paling around. I liked him.

An elbow gently poked my ribs. “You saw him, right? That was Truce. He always makes a dramatic entrance.” He yelled a little to be heard over the pounding dance music.

“Yeah. I saw.”

“Well?”

I tilted my head. “Well, what?”

“Mouth-watering, right?” He giggled. “I’ve never met him but a boy can look, can’t he?”

“Uh huh. I need to go grab a water.”

Kimmie bounced along at my side. “I’ll come with you.”

Kimmie had a pixie look, all curls and cheekbones, like he belonged in a forest with unicorns. He wore jeans shorts, glitter nail polish, and a see-through pink net tank top. A lot of eyes followed us as we made our way to the bar. The gazes were for him. An energetic twink. The perfect boy.

I wasn’t like that. I’d brought my butterfly squishy not so much to advertise my kink—well, maybe a little—but to hide my face. And to give me something for my nervous hands to clutch.

Kimmie grabbed a cranberry juice as I got my water. We sat on the barstools side by side, swinging our feet.

I’d gone out tonight mostly out of long pent-up curiosity and boredom.

I was the sort of guy who stayed by himself.

In my current situation, it was hard to have friends I could trust, so I hadn’t dressed to flirt.

I had on a red turtleneck and baggy, off-white cargo pants.

In truth, I was hiding. No skin exposed but my hands and face.

My hair slid forward to help cover even that.

I’d washed my hair, sprayed it but it didn’t stay.

It was past my shoulders and needed a trim.

Kimmie turned to me, leaning toward my left ear so I could hear him through all the noise. “So, let me tell you everything I know about Truce.”

“That’s okay, you don’t—”

He interrupted as if he didn’t hear me. “He’s into kink. Wanna know how I know?”

Without waiting for me to respond, he continued. “Like I said, I’ve never met him, but I’ve seen him around. I go to Kings and Queens sometimes. You’ve heard of it?”

I shook my head.

“It’s a super popular kink club. I’ve seen him there but I haven’t gotten close enough myself to watch him.

” His eyes widened. “He’s done scenes to crowds so huge they have to send security to guard the doors because of fire laws.

You know, the rooms have limited occupancy.

” He sipped his juice. “I’ve asked around.

He’s like a myth. Lots of rumor and speculation but I’ve never met anyone who ever, you know, dated him. But I’ll tell you what I do know.”

Suddenly, I wanted to go home, curl up in my footie jammies in front of my big fireplace with my toys, pillows, sippy cup and my yellow duckie blanket.

The housekeeper and cooks were gone for the day.

Sorel would be at his cabin behind the estate.

I’d have the whole, huge house to myself and could make my bed on the hearth and sleep like the little I longed to be.

Kimmie kept talking. “He looked young, right? But no one knows his real age. Some say early thirties. Others say he’s actually forty but I don’t believe it. Thirty-two at the most, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“I think he’s into rough stuff. Like ropes and swings. At least, that’s what some say. Others say he likes the crosses. He wants the flesh of his lovers red and burning before he takes them.”

A tickle of interest tapped danced through me. “You mean he hits them?”

“What else did you think I mean? I can picture it. His perfect hair falling forward as he uses the paddle, then the cat o’ nine tails. His muscles bunching up. His dark eyes all glazed.”

“Have you talked to someone he did that to?” I asked.

“No. Never. It’s just what I hear all the time from people who like to watch.”

Rumors. Gossip. Kimmie seemed to love both.

I glanced about. “Where do you think he went?”

“Probably the second story. There’re big tables up there. He always collects an entourage.”

I wanted to go up and see for myself. But why? This wasn’t my usual behavior. Yet, something was happening to me. Like my body had a will of its own. I was beginning to regret my decision to go out at all, but hanging out in my echoing big house got old fast. And boring.

“Kimmie, I think I’m going to go.”

“What? It’s not even late.”

“I forgot I’m expecting a guest.”

He frowned at the obvious lie but didn’t confront me about it. “It was great to meet you. Wanna exchange numbers? I can let you know when I’ll be here or at Kings and Queens.”

I liked his sweetness. Though I didn’t have plans to go to any kink club, I liked this place and wouldn’t mind coming back. I nodded.

On the way out, I got friendly looks from all sorts of guys. So did my stuffed butterfly. I hadn’t realized I needed that confidence booster until it happened.

There were two staircases on either side of the building that led upstairs. As I passed by one staircase another man smiled at me and I stopped to smile back, then looked up. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek.

When I saw two men coming down I moved to one side, then slowly made my way up.

I had no clue what I was doing. I wanted to steal another look at Truce, but that made no sense.

He didn’t know I existed plus he was way out of my league.

And the impact stuff Kimmie told me about was super scary.

But I couldn’t seem to stop my body from cresting the second floor.

Just a glance, I told myself. Then my curiosity would be done. Finished.

When I reached the last step, I was surprised at how clear the air was and how much quieter. The tinkle of glassware and men’s murmuring voices surrounded me. The lights shone brighter. The polished wood floors gleamed.

To my right, huge windows opened onto the night. Large green plants in terracotta pots stood in corners and beside the windows. Tables, some low and square, some high and round, created uneven aisles. Cushioned benches lined two walls.

The guys here weren’t dancing, but instead they talked and laughed. There was a small bar serving drinks.

Some people at the tables closest to me looked up.

Instinctively, I took a step back. If anyone asked me my reason for coming upstairs, I wouldn’t be able to tell them anything.

I didn’t want a drink. I didn’t know anyone.

I just wanted to see Truce. One more time.

And I had questions. So many questions Kimmie hadn’t answered.

Thankfully, no one bothered me.

I crept toward one of the windows, pretending to look out. In reality, I saw only reflections of things behind me in the glass. The bright lights created a mirror affect but details were unclear. I leaned sideways to widen my view and searched for Truce but couldn’t see him.

Boldly, I turned. In that split-second my gaze landed directly on him, the perfect hair, the cheekbones, the tan against the V of his vest, head high.

He wasn’t sitting. He had just come from the bar holding two drinks, one in each hand, and approached a tall round table where at least a dozen guys hung out, some sitting, some standing draped over a partner’s shoulders.

One of the guys let out a loud laugh. Truce opened his mouth and laughed right back at him.

That laugh filled the air. It embodied him.

His eyes glistened. His drinks sloshed. Then the rest of the table joined in the laughter.

As he set the drinks on the table, his head came up too fast for me to react. Suddenly, dark eyes seemed to swoop straight through me. A cold panic took hold at being caught. I had no reason for my fear. Why should I be afraid? I simply… wanted him.

What?

His look held no emotion. Almost a glower. A quick intrusive thought that I was not his type caused me to jump forward and rush down the stairs.

With no memory of time passing, I was in my car and driving away.

The streetlights nearly blinded me. Everything was overly defined, the roads shiny, the darkness itself like a liquid. I wasn’t drunk, but definitely my experience had put me in a funny state.

Only now did I realize why I’d panicked. From this one man, this overly handsome guy with a weird name, I was terrified of rejection.