Page 160 of Daddy's Naughty List

Guessing wasn’t helping but it kept me occupied while I tried to figure out what my next step should be. My first thought was always to charge in and fix a problem, but that was generally not the right response when dealing with a therapy-related topic.

I could fix a lot of other issues in life by charging in, but I was supposed to be patient and let him do the work when it came to therapy.

It was a terrible system, but so far no one had found a way for a Dom to just magic their sub better.

I had high hopes because of the number of brilliantly insane subs I’d met over the past couple of years, but I was still waiting on the results. A few of them were easily distracted, though, so I probably shouldn’t hold my breath. They might fix the therapy system or have a squirrel moment and go right for world peace.

“He’s not crying. He’s not angry. He’s just being stern… with himself.” Maybe he’d gotten worked up about traffic? He was fairly hard to rile up unless you put him in bumper-to-bumper traffic with idiots. Then he got colorful and it was fun to watch.

This didn’t seem like he was hollering at idiots and telling them they were fucking morons, though.

Stirling had a deal with his therapist where if my cutie was too worried, his doctor was allowed to call me and give me a heads-up that Stirling was upset, but I hadn’t even gotten a text message.

I’d checked twice to make sure.

“Fuck it.”

Being subtle was stupid and unproductive.

Heading toward the front door, I opened it quietly and shook my head as he got to the end of the sidewalk and turned around again. “That’s not going to?—”

He jumped a foot as he finally noticed me, and the squeal he let out made him sound like the last blonde in a horror movie who was about to go down.

I was very glad we didn’t have neighbors close by.

“Don’t do that.” He was so stressed over being startled, he actually glared at me as he clutched his chest. “I’m too young to die of a heart attack.”

He was an adorable drama queen in his own way.

“If either of us gets to complain, it’s me.” He was crazy if he thought I was going to apologize over inadvertently distracting him. “I’ve been worrying about what to do and you haven’t given me any clues. I’ve been patient.”

Very patient.

Stirling frowned, then dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. “Oh. How did that much time pass?”

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Because you were talking to yourself about a problem instead of me. Have I mentioned that I’ve been patient?”

Doing his best not to smile, Stirling let out a breath and aimed an apologetic expression in my direction. “I’m sorry. I was talking through some thoughts and I got distracted. I wanted to have everything worked out before I came inside and my drive just wasn’t long enough.”

Had he switched to solving world peace too?

“That was a wonderful nonanswer.” He’d stay distracted and calm if I kept being dramatic, so I frowned at him again. “Have you been taking lessons from Conner?”

He barely managed not to laugh but it was close. He even had to press his lips together and do his mental counting backward trick to distract himself. When he got it under control, he shook his head. “No. I’m not learning how to be naughty. That was just for the Christmas party.”

Stirling’s eyes went wide and it looked like a cartoon light bulb should’ve gone off over his head. “Santa. That’s it. I should’ve thought about that. I can dothat.”

I was going to love him even if he’d cracked, but if his therapist had broken him, Dr. Miles and I were going to have a long conversation.

I was even going to tell his Daddy on him too.

My boy didn’t seem to realize how little he’d shared with me or how worried I’d been, and he just bounced up to the front door and threw himself at me. “Hi. Will you be Santa for me?”

It wasn’t what I’d been expecting him to say, but it wasn’t the strangest request he’d ever given me when he was stressed.

“Sure.” Stealing a kiss since he didn’t seem as worked up any longer, I shifted to a slightly skeptical look that had his giggles trying to come back again. “But I’m going to need a few more words in order to plan out the scene.”

When he frowned and looked adorably confused, I realized he still hadn’t heard himself. “I don’t know why you’re stressed or what you’ve been planning. I would be more than happy to put on the Santa outfit and seduce you or spank you or any number of other things, but I don’t know where to start the scene.”

---