Page 60 of Daddy’s Naughty List (Dirty Daddies 2024 Anthology #4)

Chapter Five

Rhett

Therapy days were usually long for Stirling because his doctor’s office was an hour from us, but I started to worry when he was nearly half an hour late.

My worries didn’t fade when I found him pacing in the front yard talking to himself.

Therapy made him frustrated sometimes and it’d made him cry in the past too, but it’d never made him talk to himself in the front yard.

Lecture himself, maybe?

Was it a very stern pep talk?

Guessing wasn’t helping but it kept me occupied while I tried to figure out what my next step should be. My first thought was always to charge in and fix a problem, but that was generally not the right response when dealing with a therapy-related topic.

I could fix a lot of other issues in life by charging in, but I was supposed to be patient and let him do the work when it came to therapy.

It was a terrible system, but so far no one had found a way for a Dom to just magic their sub better.

I had high hopes because of the number of brilliantly insane subs I’d met over the past couple of years, but I was still waiting on the results. A few of them were easily distracted, though, so I probably shouldn’t hold my breath. They might fix the therapy system or have a squirrel moment and go right for world peace.

“He’s not crying. He’s not angry. He’s just being stern… with himself.” Maybe he’d gotten worked up about traffic? He was fairly hard to rile up unless you put him in bumper-to-bumper traffic with idiots. Then he got colorful and it was fun to watch.

This didn’t seem like he was hollering at idiots and telling them they were fucking morons, though.

Stirling had a deal with his therapist where if my cutie was too worried, his doctor was allowed to call me and give me a heads-up that Stirling was upset, but I hadn’t even gotten a text message.

I’d checked twice to make sure.

“Fuck it.”

Being subtle was stupid and unproductive.

Heading toward the front door, I opened it quietly and shook my head as he got to the end of the sidewalk and turned around again. “That’s not going to?—”

He jumped a foot as he finally noticed me, and the squeal he let out made him sound like the last blonde in a horror movie who was about to go down.

I was very glad we didn’t have neighbors close by.

“Don’t do that.” He was so stressed over being startled, he actually glared at me as he clutched his chest. “I’m too young to die of a heart attack.”

He was an adorable drama queen in his own way.

“If either of us gets to complain, it’s me.” He was crazy if he thought I was going to apologize over inadvertently distracting him. “I’ve been worrying about what to do and you haven’t given me any clues. I’ve been patient.”

Very patient.

Stirling frowned, then dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. “Oh. How did that much time pass?”

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Because you were talking to yourself about a problem instead of me. Have I mentioned that I’ve been patient?”

Doing his best not to smile, Stirling let out a breath and aimed an apologetic expression in my direction. “I’m sorry. I was talking through some thoughts and I got distracted. I wanted to have everything worked out before I came inside and my drive just wasn’t long enough.”

Had he switched to solving world peace too?

“That was a wonderful nonanswer.” He’d stay distracted and calm if I kept being dramatic, so I frowned at him again. “Have you been taking lessons from Conner?”

He barely managed not to laugh but it was close. He even had to press his lips together and do his mental counting backward trick to distract himself. When he got it under control, he shook his head. “No. I’m not learning how to be naughty. That was just for the Christmas party.”

Stirling’s eyes went wide and it looked like a cartoon light bulb should’ve gone off over his head. “Santa. That’s it. I should’ve thought about that. I can do that .”

I was going to love him even if he’d cracked, but if his therapist had broken him, Dr. Miles and I were going to have a long conversation.

I was even going to tell his Daddy on him too.

My boy didn’t seem to realize how little he’d shared with me or how worried I’d been, and he just bounced up to the front door and threw himself at me. “Hi. Will you be Santa for me?”

It wasn’t what I’d been expecting him to say, but it wasn’t the strangest request he’d ever given me when he was stressed.

“Sure.” Stealing a kiss since he didn’t seem as worked up any longer, I shifted to a slightly skeptical look that had his giggles trying to come back again. “But I’m going to need a few more words in order to plan out the scene.”

When he frowned and looked adorably confused, I realized he still hadn’t heard himself. “I don’t know why you’re stressed or what you’ve been planning. I would be more than happy to put on the Santa outfit and seduce you or spank you or any number of other things, but I don’t know where to start the scene.”

Or where to take it.

Sure, I’d be Santa, but there was a startling number of ways that scene could develop.

He had another light bulb moment. “Oh, you’re right. That’s a very good point.”

Stirling wasn’t moving quickly to answer me, though.

I got a cute peck and another wiggly hug as he pressed against me, but he seemed to be processing the request for information at the pace of a computer from the early eighties.

Think.

Think.

Think.

When his Winnie the Pooh moment was over and the lights in his head came back on, he smiled brighter. “I would like you to be Santa and the scene starts almost like we’re at the mall. I think you’ll be able to figure out the rest based on the context clues.”

Bullshit.

“Okay, baby.” Giving him another kiss, I tried not to look like he was driving me crazy… even though he was driving me crazy. “Do you need help getting ready or do you know what you’re going to wear?”

And that got me another thinky frown… He even inched back to look down at his clothes. “No. But this will not work.”

He was sexy in his business-casual look, but most scenes didn’t start with slacks and a baby-blue polo.

“I can fix that, though. You like buying me clothes and you’re even subtle sometimes.”

Huh?

I’d done something, though I wasn’t sure what, but he seemed to think it’d be helpful, so I just stayed quiet.

“Yes. I’ll go get ready in the bedroom but where is your costume?” Frowning adorably, his brows pulled together. “The naughty room?”

He refused to call the playroom a playroom or even a dungeon, so it’d been dubbed the naughty room.

I’d gotten really good at ignoring how Little that sounded and just nodded like it was the most grown-up way ever to describe a room with sex toys and a spanking bench.

“Yes. I’ve got it hanging up in there.” I couldn’t see a traditional social event where I’d wear it out in public, so it’d gone in the sexy costume stash. “I’ll go get ready in there then.”

“Thank you.” Stirling was trying not to giggle but his attempt was failing badly. “I know you like to get me ready but I want it to be a surprise.”

“You’re sounding more and more like Conner.” I didn’t like it. My glare just got a snicker from my normally sweet boy. “If you start prancing around in high heels and wearing see-through skirts, we’re going to have a long conversation.”

With his giggles completely breaking free, he gave me a peck on the cheek and wiggled away. “I’ll keep my clothes on. Don’t worry. But everyone looks better in heels, so no promises on the shoes.”

That was another line of adorable bullshit.

He’d tried the shoes but his brain wandered a bit too much, and every time he got distracted, he almost killed himself. So we’d stuck with playful panties and things like that because they were sexy and wouldn’t give him a concussion by making him fall and hit his head against the dresser.

Shaking my head got more laughter from him as he bounced into the house and sounded like an elephant thundering up the stairs.

How someone so short could be so loud I’d never know.

“If you fall through the stairs, I will tell the ER how you got hurt.” I wasn’t going to take the blame for that either.

“I’ll be good, Santa.” His cheeky response said he wasn’t taking me seriously enough.

“Santa gives out punishments too. So remember that.” Hmm, more laughter.

Yep, I was going to need to be scarier once I was done being Santa.

I hadn’t come up with any good threats or scenes by the time I got dressed, but that might’ve been because being dressed as Santa did not inspire me to stressful scenes. So I decided it’d have to wait until I was changed and didn’t have the desire to ask wiggly subs if they wanted a sucker after talking to Santa.

“Santa is going to the living room.” Because it had a good oversized chair and nothing in the playroom shouted Santa to me unless things at the North Pole had taken a very interesting turn.

“I’m almost ready.” Stirling was doing his best to sound relaxed, but it was on the forced side, not the actual calm side. “You go sit down.”

“You’re being really bossy. You know that, right?” My cheeky retort got another giggle from him. “Yeah. You know.”

As I grumbled about cheeky boys just loud enough for my cheeky boy to hear, I slowly made my way down to the living room. I wasn’t sure if he needed extra time to get ready or just to give himself another pep talk, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t accidentally rush him.

It turned out to be a good decision when he came down five minutes later looking slightly flustered but adorable.

He was wearing the Scooby-Doo T-shirt I’d bought him and simple cotton shorts he’d always said made him look too young.

Interesting.

Okay.

I was starting as Santa at the mall and he wouldn’t let any kid surprise him, so I smiled and held open my arms. “Who’s next to sit on Santa’s lap?”

There was nothing overly sexual or even flirty in my tone, so I wasn’t surprised when he gave me a big innocent grin. I was surprised, however, when he bounced over to my lap and sat down just as innocently. “Me, Santa. It’s my turn. I’m Stirling.”

Nothing flirty there either.

What was his game?

“I’m so excited to meet you, Stirling. Do you know what you want for Christmas?” I’d never played the role of Santa straight before, so making sure I didn’t sound like a dirty old man was distracting as fuck.

Primarily because Stirling didn’t do Little stuff.

He actively avoided it and while it technically wasn’t a red on his limits list because of some interesting mental gymnastics, he’d made it clear he didn’t want to do it.

To say his first experience with age play had gone badly would’ve been a massive understatement, but we’d figured out ways for me to get my caretaking needs out in ways that didn’t feel overly Daddy to him.

I’d been good with that.

I didn’t need the title or to buy him toys to take care of him… but this was an interesting development.

What the fuck had he been doing in therapy lately?

Even Conner knew about Stirling’s limits and he hadn’t done anything to push Stirling to sit on my lap and tell Santa what he wanted. We’d both been worried that would be too close to a trigger for him.

So if it wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t Conner’s… it was definitely therapy’s fault.

“Yes.” Slipping his hands between his knees, Stirling wiggled and didn’t do anything to make himself look older or sexier. “Toys.”

“Oh.” Doing my best to stay in character, I gave him a wide-eyed smile that hopefully looked sweet. “Tell me about the toys you want.”

Sex toys?

A new game for his system?

A computer game might be called a toy.

Was he practicing to see how close to Little he could get without panicking?

I really should’ve put my foot down about the more answers thing.

“I want a truck and a coloring book and a trampoline for my backyard, Santa.” Stirling looked greedy as fuck when he got to the trampoline part, rubbing his hands together like he was the villain in a Disney movie. “I’m going to bounce.”

Stirling didn’t bounce.

We’d gotten invited to a silly party at a trampoline park when we’d first started seriously dating and one of the staff members had asked him if his parents were there. Even that had been too much for my boy and we hadn’t gone back.

“That sounds like a wonderful present.” Carefully resting one hand on his knee and another on his back so I could gently rub it, I did my best to sound like a happy mall Santa who had no idea the person on his lap had asked for a trigger. “Do you like bouncing?”

I needed more information before I was going to promise him a fucking trampoline.

Nodding excitedly, Stirling squirmed again and I had to remind my dick he wasn’t supposed to be paying attention to what we were doing. “I really like bouncing, Santa, and I’ve been talking to my friend about how much I liked it. He said I should ask for a trampoline since I liked it so much.”

Oh.

He’d been talking about trampolines in therapy?

Toys?

Ways to relax?

“Then I think that would be a wonderful toy to get you for Christmas.” It’d need to have one of those nets around it and he’d need supervision, but it wasn’t an unreasonable request. “Now let Santa think. What else did you say? A truck and a coloring book?”

Wait.

He hadn’t been talking about a new car.

A coloring book?

What the fuck had he been doing in therapy?