Page 11 of Kiren

“It means I’m glad you told me, because I am a fan of all of that.”

“In college, my experiences were mostly big guys who wanted me to call them Daddy while we—while we hooked up. Maybe they’d make me pancakes the next morning shaped like dinosaurs, but that was it. Never anything permanent.”

I leaned forward on my elbows, my food only half-eaten. “I assume they were young, too, still figuring it all out. I’m thirty-four and I can assure you I’m not exploring the daddy label or whether it fits. It is who I am. It’s what you get with me. But only if that’s what you want.”

Kiren stirred his spaghetti around and around with his fork. “I do want it. I’ve been dreaming of it for years.”

“You can’t know how happy it makes me to hear you talk about your feelings right now.” I wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but it was too soon. “Secrets are easy to keep when you’re alone. But being alone isn’t great all the time.”

Kiren’s eyelids lowered. “I know.”

“Hey.” I looked at the top of his head and all those mad waves of golden hair. “Nothing to be ashamed about.”

He glanced up, a small smile curving his cheeks.

“It’s like a good fortune or luck or something.”

“What is?” His voice came out small.

“That I noticed you. Found you. And even then, I could’ve just let it pass. I don’t date just anyone. I have to go to special places to find what I want.”

“Special places?”

“Like clubs.”

“Clubs? Like kink clubs?”

“Yes. That very thing. Then you know who you’re meeting. There’s no second-guessing or feeling like you won’t be accepted.”

“Because everyone is kinky?” He was still smiling.

“Yep. Not all the same. But accepting. Open.”

“I always wondered?—”

“Maybe I’ll take you to one some time.”

He dropped his fork. His mouth opened. “I’d be way too shy.”

What a sweetheart he was. A baby, really. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Remember that, okay? I am firm about that in all my relationships. You have to speak up if you don’t like something.”

“Okay.” He started to say something else, then stopped.

“What are you thinking, Kiren? I’d like to know.” I kept my voice at a low rumble, easy and comforting.

He looked down at his plate again. “This is really dating, then? Not just a hookup after dinner?”

So that was what was on his mind.

“I think I made it clear, didn’t I? I want to date you. Get to know you.”

When he still didn’t look up, I added. “Truly, baby. I’m looking for something more than one night.”

Finally, he looked up. His eyes were shining brighter than the plates and glassware. “Me, too. Something more. Exactly that.”

“We’re on the same page, little one.”

“And Christmas is coming. It would be fun to have a boyfriend for Christmas.”

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