Page 48 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
I smirked. “He gave me two options if I wanted to come.”
Tris’s wide eyes and gaping mouth left no secret as to what was coming out of his mouth next. “You have to tell me right now.”
I felt my face heat yet again—a regular occurrence today, it seemed—then divulged the details of the hottest sex of my life. When I finished, Tristan slumped back into his chair then started a slow clap. By the end, he was on his feet as if giving me a standing ovation.
“Shit, Cammy, I have to give you props. That was the hottest damn thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve read your books, so the bar was already fucking high.” He stopped clapping, thankfully, and dropped back into his seat. I didn’t miss his wince.
“Hey, Tris, you okay?” I reached out my hand, placing it on his.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just left over from the other day with Behemoth. I always need several days to recover after I take something that huge.”
I tilted my head, appraising him. “So why do you do it?”
He met my gaze. “Are you sore today?”
I gulped. “Well, yeah.”
“And do you enjoy feeling that way, knowing why you’re sore?”
I smiled, just a little. “Yeah.”
He spread his hands wide as if presenting the secrets of the universe. “There you go. Plus, I had the added bonus of interacting with a fan that made it that much better in the moment. Almost like—”
“—he was fucking you?”
Tris nodded his dark-brown head of curls. “Yup, exactly. I take it you felt the same way?”
I crumpled my wrapper and started collecting the trash onto our plates. “Yeah. Of course I wished we were in person so I could feel him touching me, feel himinsideme, but that was definitely a close second. Every time I fucked myself with that plug, I felt like he was fucking me himself. I could barely keep myself under control. My brain was starting to scramble I was so hard.”
He laughed, standing and scooping up both plates before I could. “Been there.” He tilted the garbage into the trash and set the plates in the sink. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter before turning back to me. “So where do you think this is going?”
I squirmed in my seat for a few seconds before realizing I was doing it. I pushed to my feet, matching his stance against the opposite counter, near the stove. “I’m not sure it’s going anywhere at this point, but I hope it does. He said he needs seven months of doing this Daddy/boy thing virtually before we meet.”
“Sevenmonths?” He raised his eyebrows.
I covered my face with my hands. “I know! It’sforever.”
“Agreed. Why do you think he’s wanting to wait so long? And why the weird number?”
“That’s what I thought!” I frowned, considering it. “Maybe he has some life stuff going on right now. That’s a thing, right?”
Tris shrugged. “Maybe. Does it feel like a red flag to you? Or do you want to invest seven months in this relationship—as unconventional as it is—to see if it could become something more?”
I swallowed, mulling it over. “I don’t know, Tris, he . . . ever since S.M.C. emailed me for the first time, we’ve had this connection I can’t describe. We’ve shared so much with each other, and after last night, I feel like I can tell him anything. He straight upcommandedmy body, Tris, before I even heardhis voice. Something in me wanted to submit to him, let him do whatever he wanted to me. It was terrifying, but it also felt right. So right.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that Sam had done the same thing at yoga yesterday, and a connection started forming, taking root. But I ignored it for now.
Tris sniffed, and I could’ve sworn I saw his eyes shining. “Cameron, man, I’m so happy to hear that. I really hope this works out for you. You deserve all the good things in life, especially the love of a Daddy who will take care of you and make sure you eat fast food for lunch every once in a while.”
Now I was tearing up. I offered a watery chuckle. “So do you, you know. And thanks, man.”
Without warning, Tris launched himself into my arms and squeezed me tight. I held him right back, not caring if the hug went longer than what was socially acceptable. I missed human touch, and being held by my best friend was the next best thing to having the man I loved hold me. Or so I imagined. I’d never had that—not really.
My relationship with the first man I thought I’d loved, the man I’d started dating near the beginning of my first and only “real” job in accounting, had lasted as long as it took me to get comfortable with my gender identity and decide to come out as a trans man. When we’d started dating, Vincent and I had appeared like any other straight couple, but over the years, I’d started to feel a certain disconnect.
We’d appeared happy for almost a decade. But then my world shifted,Ishifted, as I realized my true identity and told him I was trans.
He’d lost his shit.
