Page 21 of Snuggle Bug

I force Calloway to look into my eyes. I don't give him any leeway to not be in the present. He needs to hear exactly what I say and internalize it.

"I will never lay a hand on you. I will never raise my voice with you. You’re the boy I’ve wanted all my life, and the only thing I’ll ever use my palm for is to cup your bum while I lean down to kiss you. That’s it. You never have to worry about me scaring you or making you cry. You’ll never have to scrub your bits alone in the bathroom, either. I’ll take care of that for you. I’m your Daddy—the protector you never had growing up. You’re mine."

"Hopefully, you use your palm on my bits, too!"

"You bet I will. And to push a finger into your hole before I put my cock in when I make love to you for the first time. I’ll also use my hand to help you brush your teeth, cut your sandwich the way you like, and tuck you into bed at night. I’ll also use it to direct my cock into your mouth when it’s time for you to learn how to blow me. How to suck my cock the proper way. Not secretly in our bed. One thing at a time. You’re my angel, Calloway. My precious, perfect angel that I love with all my heart."

Calloway’s blue eyes rain down tears on my chest. They stain my pajama top, tattooing raindrops into the cozy fabric.

I lean in and dab his leaky eyes with my pajama shirt sleeve. "I’ll also use my hand to dry your tears. I hope there aren’t many more."

Calloway sobs even harder. "These are happy tears, Daddy. You gave me Constable Charlie, you helped me heal from my past, and you treat me gently. I don't know how I got this lucky to find you."

"We were Daddy and boy in Heaven, sweet one. The gods helped us reconnect here on Earth."

It’s time.

There’s no more waiting.

Leaning in, I press my lips to Calloway’s. He pushes out a soft moan, surrendering to my firm kiss. I grip the back of his head, angling my mouth at just the right angle to do it again, this time holding my lips there for what feels like a lifetime.

Calloway’s tender breath hitches, and he parts his lips when my tongue pries its way into his mouth. I swirl it around, tasting his petite tongue for the first time, and basking in the mouth that I’ve wanted to enjoy for close to a year.

This kiss changes me. The particles that comprise my soul rearrange themselves and give life to a new me. A me who only cares about his boy.

My fingers move to Calloway’s cheeks, and as I grip them to stabilize his head, I’m blown away for not the first time at how absolutely downy, silky, and buttery soft they are. Oh, gods. This feels so right it ought to be wrong.

I pull Calloway’s head back. "I think it’s time to go get Constable Charlie and give him to you."

"Does that mean we’re leaving the cuddle room?"

Oh, my sweet boy. My perfect, precious boy. He has no idea how cute he is. How smart. How much he means to me. "We’ll be back."

NINE

CALLOWAY

"Constable Charlie!"

I rush toward the teddy that Greyson holds out to me, then bury him in my arms. This is my favorite stuffy, all right. Constable Charlie.

Every time Greyson and I head to the Hug Club, Constable Charlie is who I gravitate toward first. All the other, newer stuffies that line the shelves are cute, but they’re too new to speak to the old soul in me. Greyson has never told me I have an old soul, but he doesn’t need to. Deep down, I know I do.

Greyson tousles my hair. "Constable Charlie is all yours from now on."

Tears bloom in my eyes as I squeeze Constable Charlie tight. I hold him, just hold him, the same way that Greyson holds me. It’s so funny—I’m Greyson’s old teddy’s Daddy just like Greyson is my Daddy.

What goes around comes around. The boy Greyson has given a home and life to is now a Daddy, only a stuffy Daddy. I’m also a Daddy to my puppy Luna, but she lives at my parents’ home still, so that doesn’t count.

With blurry vision, I make out Greyson’s face. The mere sight of him prompts me to forget how to breathe.

His kind, hazel eyes lend reassurance to my nervous soul. His chiseled jaw and pronounced cheekbones promise bastions of protection. And his fluffy body, well, that’s what I adore most. I stare at this man who finally overcame his hesitation to be open and honest with me, the man who battled so many internal demons before we went into the cuddle room, and feel a wave of awe wash over me.

Greyson is my dream Daddy come to life. He’s the protector figure I pictured I’d have someday when I was old enough to make these decisions for myself, the man who never raised his voice with me, never threatened to hurt me, only covered me in a blanket of love. I think back to the rainbow blanket we cuddled under in the cuddle room, and fight back a laugh. Yes, that blanket is a fitting metaphor for the sparkling rainbow of love that Greyson lavishes upon me.

He smothers me in the best way possible, like two big slices of white bread that lock peanut butter and chocolate together in a Little’s snack time sandwich.

I look down at Constable Charlie, then burst into tears all over again. I press him to my heart. Happiness and hurt blend together in my chest. That’s because sometimes in life, the things that are the most beautiful and precious cause us to cry, too.

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