Page 85 of Wishes and Research

I had the best Daddy.

And the naughtiest because he growled and his eyes did their sparkly thing. “If you keep trying to make me happy, cutie, you’re going to succeed.”

Oops.

“I…I think Daddy’s all clean.” Yes. But I was careful and made sure I was gentle and we both pretended I hadn’t been getting him very clean.

Being a good helper was hard.

His smile was wicked and he looked like he was ready to press me up against the wall and do…do something, but he just waited for me to stand up and gave me a soft kiss. “Thank you. You take very good care of me.”

“I…” Taking a deep breath, I tried to sound like a good grown-up. “I’m going to be a very good big spoon to you, Daddy.”

“I know you will.” He gave me another kiss, still soft, but then he licked and nibbled and used his tongue to stroke mine. When he finally released my lips, he pulled us both under the spray and held me tight. “Because you love me lots and lots and you’re a wonderful cuddler.”

Yes.

That was what was important.

Love and cuddles.

Chapter 24

Fraser

He was clearly trying to kill me, but I loved him enough that I’d die a happy if sexually frustrated Daddy.

The fact that he was hiding in such a cute headspace wasn’t exactly a surprise. The one and only time I’d tried to get him to discuss penetrative sex he’d nearly turned purple. I’d gotten about three words out of him before he’d asked me if he could give me kisses and then have apple juice.

That.

No.

Clean.

Then the adorably delivered offer of a blow job.

Yep, it hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to understand that whatever he’d done in the past hadn’t turned out like he’d expected. Nothing in his reaction said trauma, but he didn’t seem to have any desire to talk about it. The only concession he’d seemed willing to make as far as information went was to forward me a copy of his last negative test results once he’d decided he was safe from evil conversations.

But the big spoon, little spoon analogy worked fairly well.

He’d top but he hadn’t done it before.

He also wasn’t scared of topping me because he’d been hard as a rock just talking about it.

My best guess was that some moron had told him he was a boring bottom and that he’d done something wrong. Based on his dating history, it seemed to be the most likely reason he’d avoid it since he didn’t mind me teasing or penetrating him with my fingers.

Eventually we’d figure it out, but for the time being, his cock was a very good indicator of how he was feeling.

Bottom. No.

Top. Yes.

Well, as long as we didn’t have to talk about it beyond spoons and making me happy.

Of course, he kept reaching down to tug on his dick every time he said big spoon, so I was using that as one of my sexual barometers. Another was the number of times he licked his lips and whined…because he didn’t seem to realize he was doing that either.

I also thought it was interesting that he didn’t question me on if Daddies could be the little spoon. He’d accepted that idea very quickly for someone who didn’t want to talk about it. I’d have loved to get a peek into his mind or his search history, but as I started drying him off, that really didn’t matter.

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