Page 26 of Hero Daddy

I pressed my thighs together, conscious of the heat gathering there. My entire body felt different this morning—more alive, more sensitive, as if my skin had been replaced with something thinner, more receptive to every sensation. The brush of cotton sheets against my legs. The cool morning air on my exposed arms. My own fingertips tracing the outline of my lips where his had been.

With a small groan, I pushed myself upright and swung my feet to the floor. The hardwood was cool beneath my bare soles, grounding me in reality. This wasn't a dream. It had happened.

I padded to the bathroom, avoiding my reflection at first. What would I see there? Would I look different? Would it be written on my face, this new understanding of myself? This agreement to explore parts of me I'd never acknowledged before?

When I finally glanced up, the woman in the mirror looked mostly the same—sleep-rumpled hair, shadows under her eyes from too little rest. But there was something else too—a brightness in her gaze, a subtle flush on her cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with anticipation.

I brushed my teeth and washed my face, movements automatic while my mind raced. What happened now? We'd agreed to take things slowly, to build this relationship with care and intention. But we'd set nothing concrete in place—no next steps, no specific plans beyond his promise to do this "completely."

Questions multiplied with each passing minute as I moved to the kitchen to start coffee. The apartment felt unnervingly quiet, the silence amplifying the chaos of my thoughts. I measured grounds into the filter, filled the reservoir with water, and pressed the button, the familiar domestic ritual at odds with theextraordinary transformation my life had undergone in the span of a day.

The coffee maker gurgled and hissed, filling the kitchen with its rich aroma. I leaned against the counter, staring blankly at my small kitchen table. Just yesterday I'd sat there researching DDlg relationships, frantically trying to understand what Chad had shown me at the academy and why it had affected me so deeply.

Now I stood on the precipice of actually living one.

The coffee maker beeped, signaling it was done, but before I could reach for a mug, my phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at the screen.

Chad.

My heart leapt into my throat. My hand shook slightly as I picked it up, swiping to answer before I could overthink it.

"Hello?" My voice came out smaller than I intended, breathier.

"Morning, Little One. Did you sleep well?" His voice was exactly as I remembered—that low rumble that seemed to vibrate straight through me, calm and steady and certain.

"I did," I lied, then reconsidered. "Well, sort of. I fell asleep eventually."

A soft chuckle came through the line, the sound warming me from the inside out. "That's understandable. It was an eventful evening."

An understatement if I'd ever heard one.

"How about you?" I asked, grateful that my voice sounded more normal now.

"I slept," he said simply. "Though my mind was . . . preoccupied."

The way he said it suggested his preoccupation had been similar to mine. The thought sent another flutter through my stomach.

"After everything last night," he continued, his tone shifting to something more serious, "it's imperative we talk today, clearly and thoroughly."

I swallowed hard, unsure if the intensity in his voice was cause for concern or anticipation. "Okay."

"Before we proceed with your training, before we explore anything else, we need to establish our foundation." His words were measured, deliberate. "I'd like to come over this morning, if that works for you, so we can discuss this properly."

Relief flooded through me, washing away some of the doubt that had been gnawing at my insides. He wasn't backing out.

"Yes," I said, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. "I'd like that."

"Good. I'll be there at ten, if that gives you enough time?"

I glanced at the clock. Just over three hours. Enough time to shower, make myself presentable.

"That's perfect."

"See you then, Little One."

***

Atexactly10:00AM,three sharp knocks sounded on my door. I'd spent the intervening hours in a flurry of activity – showering, changing clothes twice, tidying the apartment, hiding the most embarrassing evidence of my research binge. Now I took a deep breath, wiped my damp palms on my jeans, and opened the door. Chad stood in my hallway, dressed in dark jeans and a fitted navy button-down that stretched across his broad shoulders. He carried a small leather-bound notebook in one hand, his posture as perfect as always. Something in his eyes softened when they met mine.

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