Page 7 of A Little Spilled Milk

Sitting beside him, I asked if he wanted to tell me what was wrong. “Maybe I can help.”

He sniffed again, and I handed him the tissue box. I made a mental note to cure his sniffing habit, but again, I had to remind myself we were strangers. Not Daddy and Little.

Vinnie fiddled with the tissue, his eyes lowered. Seeing him so vulnerable, my chest ached and milk leaked from my teats. He couldn’t see it as I was wearing a sweater, but if it continued, it’d be dribbling over my chest and seeping through the wool.

“I got home and the power was off in my apartment. That’s not so bad except…” He dabbed at his eyes. “Except, the fridge had been off for maybe days.”

Oh, I had an inkling of why he was so upset.

“Go on.”

“Everything was ruined. All the food, and the ice had melted.” He studied me through a fringe of dark lashes. “Everything.”

“That’s too bad.”

I could help him, but he needed to say it.

“But that’s not the worst of it.”

He was almost there, and he slid over the sofa so our thighs were almost touching.

“There were other things in the freezer, not just ice.”

“Something precious?” I was giving him a little nudge.

“Very.” He sobbed again and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “It’s hard to say.” He chewed his lip and tugged off bits of tissues until I put the waste basket beside him. “But you know that milk I spilled?”

“Yes.” I needed a shower to rid my skin of the smell.

“I had milk in the freezer, but it was ruined, and what I dropped out there.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Was the replacement. And I drove to the other side of town to get it.”

“Raw milk?” I knew people bought unpasteurized dairy this way to avoid the legal guidelines, but milk, pasteurized or not, wouldn’t get this kind of a reaction, would it?

“Ummm.” He didn’t meet my gaze. “Not exactly.”

Not cow’s milk then. Interesting. “And now you have none.”

“I can’t sleep without a…” He looked up and caught my eye. “A bottle.” Vinnie tensed. “A bottle of milk and my stuffie.”

“I understand.”

“You do? Most people wouldn’t. They’d judge me.”

“I would never.” I longed to drag him onto my lap and have him latch on. Maybe while he was suckling, I could make him feel good by stroking his length. “There was no need to go anywhere, especially a long drive at night.”

“There wasn’t?” His thumb was creeping toward his mouth, probably because he needed a paci.

“I have exactly what you need.”

His face brightened. “You buy milk too?”

I shook my head and winced, my chest aching, milk spurting from both teats.

“No, I don't usually drink it.” I patted my chest. “But I supply it.”

His mouth formed a huge O. “You’ve been living beside me and I didn’t know.”

He needed milk so badly, and I needed relief. But more importantly, I wanted his mouth on me, his head resting on my chest and lips latched to my teat. Just the thought of him sucking made my cock engorge.

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