Page 29 of Daddy Enforcer
He’s lying on his stomach, his legs kicking lazily as he colors in one of those unicorn books we picked up in town, his new snow leopard stuffy, Felix, propped up beside him like he’s supervising.
The boy’s glitter pens are scattered around him, sparkling in the firelight, and he’s humming softly, lost in his own little world. It’s the most relaxed I’ve seen the boy since we got here, and it’s doing something to me, seeing him like this—so soft, so… Little.
My chest tightens, and I have to look away, focusing on the flames to keep my head straight. As cute as he is, I cannot forget that this is still a client, a person who I have been entrusted to protect and give my life for should it be required.
That kiss in the forest earlier—it was electric, like a spark that could’ve set the whole damn mountain on fire. Billie’s lips were desperate, hungry, and I kissed him back with everything I had, my hand on his face, his body pressed close.
Iwantedto keep going, to pull him into me and forget every rule I’ve got, but I was right to pull back. We were out in the open, too exposed, and with the threat hanging over us—Trent’s shady dealings, that cryptic email about financial irregularities—I couldn’t risk it.
But damn, I didn’t want to stop.
It might have been cold, but I know I could have raised the temperature all the way right there on the spot. I could give the boy feelings that he’s never experienced before—and I think he could do the same for me too.
The memory of his taste, his warmth, is still burning in me, and watching him now, all innocent and carefree, makes it harder to keep my distance. Billie’s not just a job anymore. He’s my Little, whether he fully knows it or not, and I’m starting to crave being his Daddy in every way.
Focus.
Shake it off, Max.
This isn’t about you and your feelings…
I brush off the thought and head to the kitchen, needing something to do with my hands. The blizzard’s got us trapped, so we might as well make the most of it…
I pull out a saucepan, milk, cocoa powder, and those mini marshmallows Billie loves, deciding to whip up some hot chocolate. Something warm and sweet to keep him grounded,to keep us both focused on the moment instead of the storm outside—or the one I’m starting to suspect is coming.
As the milk heats, I glance at Billie again, his tongue poking out as he carefully colors a unicorn’s mane bright pink. He’s so damn cute, and it’s hitting me hard, this need to protect him, to give him the safety he’s been craving.
“All good there, Picasso?” I ask, playful and smiling.
“All good!” Billie replies, dreamily and full of optimism in his voice.
The hot chocolate’s ready, steaming and topped with a handful of marshmallows, and I carry two mugs over to the rug, setting them on the coffee table.
“Time for a break, Little One,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “Come sit up. Got something for you.”
Billie looks up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the mugs.
“Marshmallow hot chocolate? Oh my gosh, Daddy, you’re the best!” Billie squeals.
He scrambles to sit cross-legged, clutching Felix to his chest, and I can’t help but smile. That excitement, that pure joy—it’s what I’m starting to live for. I hand him a mug, and he takes a sip, his eyes closing as he hums in delight.
“This issooogood,” Billie says, carefully slurping on the drink. “Way better than the fancy lattes I used to get.”
“Glad you approve,” I say, settling on the rug across from him, my own mug warm in my hands. “You’ve been good today, sticking to the pact. Deserves a treat.”
Billie’s cheeks flush, and he ducks his head, focusing on his hot chocolate, but I see the spark in his eyes, that mix of pride and shyness that tells me he’s feeling his Little side.
He takes another sip, then sets his mug down, his fingers fidgeting with Felix’s ears.
“You know,” Billie says, his voice quieter now, “I’m not used to this. Like, having fun like this, just…playing.” He gestures at the coloring book, the pens, and I can tell he’s opening up, something rare for the guarded pop star I met a few days ago. “My life’s been all about work for so long. The tours, the shows, the interviews—it’s like I never get to just…be.”
I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, listening.
“Tell me about it,” I say, keeping my tone gentle, encouraging. I want to know him, not just Billie B, but the boy underneath all the glitter.
With that, Billie sighs, his eyes distant as he stares into the fire.
“It started when I was a kid, you know?” Billie begins. “Child actor, always on set, always performing. Then Trent came along, turned me into this pop star machine. I love singing, I love my fans, but… it’s lonely sometimes. I’d see my dancers, like Zane, laughing and goofing off between shows, and I’d want to join them, just have fun, be silly. But Trent always said no. ‘Stay focused, Billie,’ he’d say. ‘You’re the star, not one of them.’ He’d even lock me in my hotel room sometimes, saying it was for my safety, to keep me away from the ‘wrong influences…’”
