Page 39 of Little Boy Toy

“I want to be clear and honest with you, Kendry.”

I knew he wanted me to look at him, but I couldn’t.

“Honey, you can be whatever you want or need to be with me and I’ll still want to ask you to spend the night with me from now on. Even if it’s just to be near you.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t quite comprehend his words. There was no way they were real. They couldn’t be the words I’d been wanting to hear for so long, could they?

“You want to be near me?”

“I do.”

“Like date me?”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss my shoulder. “Not only date you, but exclusively you.” He paused. “What do you say?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?”

“I must be dreaming.”

“Why? Is that an odd request?”

I giggled when his nose tickled my chin. “It is for me.”

“Oh honey.” He pushed himself up just enough to kiss me.

14

Zale

We were possibly more alike than we knew. To be with Kendry was relaxing and more fun than I could remember having in a long time. But he still didn’t call me Daddy except on rare occasions in bed. I made no secret to him that I liked it. That he could go on doing it. Yet he kept himself in check. Too careful.

We had more trust to build.

Over the next couple of weeks, he held my hand almost every time we went out. It didn’t gather too many looks since we both lived in the gay-centric part of town. I loved that he showed that trust. I couldn’t help but want to show him off.

When I suggested a weekend night out at the club, biting my lip that he might be testy after what I’d told him some of his exes had been saying about him, to my surprise his eyes brightened.

“Yes. Let’s!”

“You’re excited,” I accused. “Already wanting to stray?” I laughed to let him know it was a joke.

“Nope. Not even for a second.” He puffed out his chest, then ran to me across the kitchen floor where we’d both been contemplating our next meal and slammed into my chest.

“Good to hear, honey.” I bent to kiss the top of his head. “So good.”

He flexed one knee and lifted his leg to curve around my thigh. He had started doing that a lot, and I finally got it through my thick brain that it meant he wanted to be lifted up and kissed as I held him.

I was all too happy to accommodate him. I ran both my hands down his back until I cupped his ass. It was nearly small enough to fit, one cheek for each palm. I squeezed gently and easily lifted him. He gave a little jump to help, then put both legs around my waist and both hands around my neck. He was face to face with me now and tilted his head back.

Teasing him, I kissed both his cheeks under the eyes, then his nose.

“Zale!” He pouted.

I grinned, kissing his forehead, then pulled back. “What?”

“I want a real kiss and I want it now, Daddy.” He spoke like that petulant spoiled child from the Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory film, also one of our favorite books lately to read out loud to each other.

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