Page 45 of Fitch

I shook my head and smiled at him. “Uh-uh.”

Still gripping my chin, he drew me up onto my tippytoes and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “You are trouble,” he murmured, then let me go and disappeared back into his walk-in robe. He came out a second later holding a folded shirt.

I could see it matched the shorts. White with blue trim, and he handed it to me. I dropped the shorts into the basket and held up the shirt so I could see what was written on it. It reminded me of one of those American football shirts with a name and number on the front and back. The big blue writing across the top saidDaddy’s Boyand the number was1.

Daddy’s boy, number one.

I gasped and looked up at Dom. “I love it,” I whispered. But there was something I didn’t understand. “Why were you not sure?” It was perfect. It couldn’t have been more perfect. “Do you not like it?”

His eyes flinched. “I love it,” he admitted. “Especially with the shorts and the socks. I pictured you in it and had to get it.”

“But?”

“Is it too soon?” He winced. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to misunderstand or give you the wrong impression. I mean, it’s just a shirt...”

I took his hand, gently interlocking our fingers. “The wrong impression of what?” I met his gaze and shook my head. Ky’s words echoed through my mind—that this daddy/boy relationship was nothing more than a sexual fantasy, not reality. He was right, and it stung. But it was the truth. “What is there to misunderstand, Dom? That while I’m here, I can wear this because Iamyour boy, and you find it hot and you imagined fucking me while I wear it.”

He winced again but gave the smallest of nods.

“And it’s not a lie,” I said, aiming to lighten the mood. “Because I am your number one boy... well, I better be. And if I’m not, then you better teach me how to be number one.” He was looking down so I leaned in and peeked up at his eyes. “Okay, daddy? As many lessons as it takes.”

He eventually smiled. “Okay.”

“Shall I wear it now?” I asked. The pj’s were awesome but the sports outfit won easily.

But Dom shook his head. “No. Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”

So I folded the shirt neatly and popped it back in the basket. “Let’s make a deal,” I said. “When I get here, just have whichever outfit you want me to wear on the end of your bed, and I’ll wear it.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

“And if there’s nothing on the end of your bed, I’ll just assume you want me naked the entire time.”

He laughed as he put the basket back in his wardrobe. He came back out smiling and rewarded me with another soft kiss. “If you insist.”

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

But then he looked me up and down, taking in the tight-fitting, very small pyjamas, and he groaned. He turned me around by the shoulders and walked us out and toward the kitchen.

“I ordered Thai food,” he said. There were three containers on the kitchen counter and he cracked the lid on one, and stopped. “Do you have any allergies?”

I shook my head. “No. I eat everything.” Then I looked up at him. “Do you have any allergies?”

It seemed to catch him off-guard, that I would ask such a thing. He shook his head, almost smiling. “No.”

He dished up two bowls with a bit of everything, and surprising me by not going to the table, he walked to the sofa instead. He sat at one end and put his feet on the coffee table, and I sat in the middle with my feet all tucked up underneath me.

It was different to see him in such a relaxed mood.

“Something about your food funny?” he asked.

I shook my head, smiling. “Not at all. I was just thinking how nice it is to see you relaxed. You were stressed out before, all high-strung in your expensive suit. Now you’re in your comfy clothes, all chill.”

He made a face as he chewed and swallowed. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh, absolutely not. A happy daddy means a happy boy. Was it the awesome sex? I have to say, I’m going to need to buy more lollipops.”

He cut me a side-eye but his smile told me there was no heat in it. “Hmm. Maybe I should have a supply here for you.”

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