Page 17 of A Stable Daddy

I suppress a shudder. I don’t like snakes. Thankfully, I haven’t had to treat many during my career…and, yes, I’m aware there’s an irony in being a vet with a fear of a specific kind of animal. So sue me, I didn’t grow up in the country; I was always a city boy before I met Maddox.

I’m shaken from my thoughts as an arm reaches across in front of me and lifts my plate from its setting. Oscar sets about piling on steaming heaps of meat and veggies before he places it back down in front of me, his eyebrow raised expectantly.

I try to suppress the full-body shiver that expression induces.

“Thank you,” I say, managing to bite off the instinctive ‘Daddy’ before I can embarrass myself among his colleagues. The way Oscar’s lips twitch suggests that he heard it loud and clear anyway.

Heat rises to my cheeks. I don’t understand why I have those urges now. Sure, the night with him had been mind blowing and perspective changing, but I’m so much older than him. Submitting to him as a Dom is one thing, but thinking of him as Daddy? Isn’t that…weird?

How is it any weirder than wanting to call him Sir?I question myself.Or Master?

Titles he’s uncomfortable with.

Maybethat’swhy I want to call him Daddy, because I know he doesn’t like the alternatives. I’ve Googled a lot since that night in Brissie, and I’ve been reassured that Daddy kink doesn’t have to include regression play. It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with age regression, mind you, but it just doesn’t appeal to me.

I want to submit…but I kind of like the idea of being taken care of, too.

Maddy used to do both for me.

I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath. Maddy’s been gone for almost a year and a half. I can’t be thinking about him while I think about a new man, can I?

Even while I try, my brain won’t let go of my previous train of thought.

Maddy was more than just my Dom. I called him Sir when we played, but he took care of me as well as dominating me. I always put that down to him being my husband, but…I never took care of him in quite the same way. He made sure that I ate right. He dealt with all the confusing paperwork to do with our business. He generally made all the big, scary decisions for me, and I trusted him to take that stress off my shoulders.

After a couple of months of Googling, I’m coming to realise that I might have called him Sir and thought of him as my Dom, but he was actually more of a Daddy Dom.

Huh.

Maybe I’m interested in Oscar being my Daddy because I miss having one. Even if I never used the word before, thatwasmy dynamic with Maddy. And, if I push the logic a little further, maybe that’s why interacting with other Doms felt inherently wrong after Maddy died. Yeah, I was grieving him, but I was also looking for the wrong kind of Dom, too.

“You okay, darlin’?” Oscar’s breath ghosts over my neck as he leans in to ask me the question, his voice low and calming.

Yeah,I consider replying, feeling lightheaded,just having a lightbulb moment.

Clearing my throat, I nod. “I’m good,” I assure him, smiling to let him know that I appreciate his concern. “I was just…lost in thought.”

“Well, you should eat up before Jim pounces on your plate,” he replies, jutting his chin to gesture to my other side.

The man in question —Jim— grins unrepentantly back at me when I turn to face him, his previously full plate already half-empty. “It’s the quick or the dead here, Doc. Gotta sink your teeth in before someone snatches your tasty treat away.”

I blink in surprise while Oscar groans.

“Ignore Jim,” he says, and I glance back to catch him shooting a pointed glare at his colleague, “he’s got no hope of sinkin’ his teeth into anythin’ you might want.”

“You guys aren’t talking about the roast, are you?” Dusty asks from across the table. His eyes dart from Jim, to me, to Oscar and then back again. His cheeks turn pink when Jim laughs heartily.

“I’m just fucking with them, Dust,” Jim says, waving his hand dismissively as he leans back in his seat. He tilts his head back in a stretch, and he misses the flash of relief across Dusty’s youthful face. But I don’t.

My mind is spinning.

My shock must be written all over me, and Oscar interprets it correctly because he snorts and says, “Don’t mind us, Rye. I think you’ll find this is the most progressive, accepting station in the whole damn country. I got pretty lucky landin’ here with these degenerates.” His thigh, warm and firm, nudges mine beneath the table. “Now, eat up like a good boy, hmm?”

Fuck, but that endearment goes straight to my cock.

I shift in my seat and lift my knife and fork, finally digging into my dinner. It’s just as delicious as it smells. Once he’s seemingly satisfied that I’m eating, Oscar resumes his meal, too.

When I’m certain I can’t fit another morsel in my mouth, I lean back in my chair and rub my belly. I’m full and content…and sleepy.

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