Page 35 of Part-Time Daddy

Dean disappears into the bathroom, and I quickly strip off my clothes. Piling everything into a ball on the floor, I dance in front of my dresser, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. My eyes dart back and forth over two closed drawers—one holding my little clothes and the other my grown-up pajamas.

I can’t decide what to do. As Daddy, I’m sure Dean would be fine with whatever I want. But what if he’s expecting me to stay mostly out of my little headspace until we’ve both agreed to all his rules?

I should wear flannel pajama pants and a plain shirt, right?

“I can see your wheels turning, baby bat. Everything okay?”

Whirling around, I gape at Dean. I was a little off in my guesstimate of Dean’s size in clothing. The sweats and shirt are stretched to their capacity over his muscled arms and thighs, the pants landing a few inches above his ankles. I’m so mesmerized by the sight of his body rippling against the fabric and my silent wish that the threads will give up and shred off his body that I completely skip over the fact that I’m almost naked.

“So unfair.” I pout. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off you when you walk around looking like that?”

“I could say the same,” he says. “Were you trying to seduce Daddy by shaking that cute tush of yours wearing nothing but a tiny pair of undies?”

“No,” I protest indignantly. “I was trying to figure out what to wear to bed. What you would expect me to wear.”

“I expect you to wear what’s comfortable,” he answers without hesitation. “I can pick if you’d like?”

Relief floods through me. “Yes, please, Daddy.” This right here is all the good I hope for in giving this Daddy/boy dynamic a try. I don’t have to make the decisions. Dean will. I only need to voice if he’s meeting or approaching my limits or if I’m uncomfortable.

Stepping farther into the room, he stops right in front of me. “Which drawer has your pajamas?”

I point to both, letting him choose how the rest of the night goes. Dean smiles, dropping his gaze to the drawers. He opens the one on the left, takes one glance inside, and immediately closes it. Opening the other, he starts fingering the bright patterns and soft fabrics. After a brief deliberation, he pulls out a matching cotton set.

Daddy’s silent decision has my little headspace floating closer to the surface.

“These are cute and exactly what my baby bat needs.” He closes the door with his hip and turns to me. “Do you want me to help you get dressed?”

Any other time, I would expect Daddy not to ask. But we’re learning our roles together, and until it’s routine, everything needs consent. Smiling shyly, I answer, “Yes, please, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” he says. Taking my hand, he guides me to the center of the room. “Hands on my shoulders.”

Planting my hands as he asked, I lift one foot a few inches off the floor, giving him space to slide the pant leg on. I do the same when he taps my other foot, standing flat while he pulls my pants up and ties the strings at my waist. He’s careful to keep this from becoming sexual, his touches brief and staying far away from tempting areas.

As Daddy dresses me, my adult thoughts drift further away.

“Arms up,” he says, slipping the shirt over my head. “Perfect.”

I run my hands over my chest, looking down at one of my favorite little outfits. These pajamas are black cotton pants and a matching shirt with constellations dotted all over them in silver print. “I match Luna’s wings!” I say, then dive for Luna to show Daddy.

“You sure do. Cutest bats in the world,” he says. “Now let me hold Luna. I need you to brush your teeth and use the potty.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I say, my voice raising a pitch or two. “I’ll be right back.”

Dashing across the hall, I brush my teeth as quickly as possible, humming the birthday song twice as I scrub over every tooth. Once I’m done, I use the toilet and wash my hands, dabbing them dry on a hand towel.

Rushing back to my room, I skid to a stop when I see Daddy has straightened out my bedsheet, folding back a corner for me to climb beneath. He’s even found my starry night sky humidifier and turned it on. I do a little jig in place, happy feelings accompanying the sight.

“Come on in, silly bat,” Daddy says, lifting the corner of my sheets.

I scramble across the bed, flopping to my back in the center. Daddy tucks Luna under my arm, then raises the sheet and blankets to my chest. Warm and cozy, I peek up at his smiling face. “Thank you, Daddy. I’m happy you’re staying—even if it’s not in my bed.”

Daddy chuckles. “Me too, baby bat. Now close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He tucks the blankets around me and kisses my lips, sweet and fast.

“G’night, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, Tanner,” he says in a whisper, flipping off the lights and stepping through the door. And like the best Daddy in the world, he leaves it open a crack, enough to let the hall light spill in.

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