Page 62 of Daddy’s Naughty List (Dirty Daddies 2024 Anthology #4)

Chapter Seven

Rhett

Listing off all the things he knew he liked had my brain jumping to all the things I knew. Like, I knew he wanted to be a helper, not a Little. I knew I was Santa, not Daddy, but I got to do Daddy things because I could buy him toys and give him bubble baths.

He was also not doing his best to look grown-up and was even slouching over and had his hands between his knees again as he wiggled against me.

I knew he could handle me buying him toys because he’d done his field trip to Walmart to prove it. I understood why he’d done it that way, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. But I wasn’t going to pout because I was supporting his journey and not doing it for him.

That wouldn’t be helpful and wasn’t what a good Dom would do.

I also didn’t have to like that the reminder about that always ended up coming out in Dr. Miles’s voice in my head.

But I did like cuddling with Stirling, so I kissed his head and snuggled him closer as I reached down to flip the handle that would turn it into a glider. He made a happy sound when I started us moving back and forth, and it felt like he was finally starting to relax.

“You do a good job of making me happy.” Brushing my lips against his head, I used my feet to keep us going and tried to make sure he knew we didn’t have to move until he was ready. “But I like making you happy too… that might be me picking out a snack or dessert for you later.”

He usually grabbed something quick after work while he was driving to therapy, but goodies were always fun. What else would he like? “We might find a book that I can read to you.”

That got a happy wiggle and a surprised inhale, making me laugh. “Oh yes, Santa can read to his helper too. I think you’d like that. We could find something on your Kindle. Something not naughty.”

Giggling, Stirling shrugged. “There are all kinds of cute helpers. I bet one of the Littles at the club would like a silly story for their bedtime.”

Probably.

But my dramatic groan got another giggle from him. “Oh, I’m not sure I’m that kind of Santa. Naughty books? Really ?”

He managed to keep his laughter silent for about five seconds and then it came bursting out again. “You’d be so funny.”

Little Stirling and big Stirling would both think that was funny.

“Hmm, I guess if I get enough hugs and kisses… cheek kisses, I might think about it.” When Stirling finally stopped giggling, he sat up and kissed my cheek. “Hey.”

And that got more laughter.

So I had to pout. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

He thought he was hilarious and looked very proud of himself. “But I’m not all clean yet, Santa.”

I could fix that.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Wrapping my arms around him, I picked him up and headed for the bedroom. Stirling squealed and wrapped his arms around me tight, but he was still grinning ear to ear when we got to the bathroom. “Bubble time and then kisses time.”

He was doing his best to look casual as he shrugged, but it wasn’t very believable. “I have to figure out which kind I like. So that’s a good plan. But I got to get all clean first.”

“ Very clean .” Giving him a quick peck on the lips, I shrugged back as he smiled. “Well, you seem to like lip kisses, so there’s one spot down.”

His eyes lit up as he smiled. “I do. I like it lots and lots.”

“Then we’ll make sure you get lots of kisses.” And since he’d done his best to make sure I knew what he liked, I did it again as I took off my gloves and jacket. “Ta-da. More kisses.”

That got me a big hug and he pressed his face into my shoulder. “I love your kisses, Santa.”

“Because you’re the best helper ever.” The title was starting to come more naturally, although I was going to have to keep it at the front of my head for a while. “And soon you’re going to be the cleanest helper.”

“And then I get more kisses.” His adorable snicker said he was feeling feisty. “I think I’m going to like kisses.”

Me too.

“Then let’s get you all clean.” My plan was bubbles first and naked second, but as soon as I turned around to look under the sink and see what we had, he skipped ahead.

By the time I turned back around with some bodywash that promised lots of lather, he was half-naked and working on his socks.

Seeing him in just socks and his shirt had me trying not to laugh… especially when he started to tip over. “Gotcha.”

He didn’t need another concussion or we’d get flagged in the ER for me beating him or something.

Stirling didn’t seem to realize how close it’d been because he smiled as he looked up. “I got it. I did it.”

“You did.” And I’d kept him from getting his brains rattled against the wall. So we were both amazing, just in different ways. “And you were very fast.”

He shrugged. “Faster naked, faster bubbles.”

And faster to kisses and snuggles and book time.

“That’s a good plan.” Kissing his head as he finally got the rest of his clothes off, I pointed to the toilet. “Potty while I get the bubbles started.”

He’d never been pee shy, so he bounced over to the toilet without bothering to close the door behind him. “Bubbles and fun and kisses and… oh, and books and a treat. That’s good helper time, Santa.”

So that was a good way for my little boy to have fun?

“I think it sounds perfect.” And I couldn’t see any stressors in that plan either. “What kind of treat should we have? Popcorn while we read a book? Cookies?”

I wasn’t sure what we had, but there were definitely options. I was a snacker, so there were always options.

But Stirling was not the same kind of random eater that I was. For him, it had to be what he was passionate about at the moment, but he’d never let himself indulge in anything Little-related. Hell, we didn’t even keep kid cookies in the house… just the expensive ones.

“Hmm?” Giving himself a shake as he flushed, Stirling started wandering in small circles around the bathroom. It was definitely going to end up being his helper thinking face, so I let him be adorable and turned on the water.

As I got everything ready, he made more thinking sounds before giving me a big shrug. “We don’t got it.”

What didn’t we have?

“What kind of snack were you thinking about? Is it something we can bake?” Helper or grownup, baking would be something he liked.

“No.” The overly casual way he waved his hands as he watched the soap start to bubble wasn’t believable at all. “But that’s okay. We can have cookies.”

It was getting more and more unbelievable every time he opened his mouth.

“Well, I guess if Santa’s helper doesn’t want to tell him, then that’s okay.” It was my turn to shrug and act like it didn’t matter. I wasn’t any more believable than he was, but I hadn’t tried very hard. “We can do cookies. I like cookies.”

Sighing, I pouted slightly and just watched the bubbles continue to build. “But it’s sad I won’t get the chance to try to make my helper happy.”

Guilt was a wonderful thing.

“Oh.” Rocking back and forth on his toes, he swung his arms and sighed. “I guess I have to let you try. You’re Santa. That’s what you do.”

Hopefully.

“Yes, trying would make me happy.” I really hoped it would make us both happy and he wasn’t going to ask for something ridiculous.

“Making you happy would make me a good helper.” He was stretching out the problem, but he wasn’t upset and he hadn’t lost his headspace.

I could only assume it was something he wasn’t ready to ask for and was working up the nerve. It made me incredibly curious, but I did my best not to show it as I went to grab a washcloth in the small linen closet.

By the time I walked back over to the tub, the water was high enough for him to get in and it’d seemed like he’d figured out what he wanted. He didn’t volunteer it right away, but as I took his hand, I could feel him relaxing. “Careful. Santa will not be happy if you fall.”

“It was only once, Santa.” Rolling his eyes as he sat down in an exaggeratedly careful manner, he sighed as I scoffed. “Two times.”

Three.

It’d been at least three.

It was why he wasn’t allowed to shower by himself when he was distracted or even tipsy.

“Thank you for being careful.” Sitting down beside the tub, I suds up the bubbles with my hand before mounding some of the froth on his head. “Now you look old too.”

He snickered but shook his head. “No, Santa just has white hair.”

I’d take that logic.

I had plans to talk about it for long enough to distract him too, but he jumped back to the snack conversation before I could get started.

“Goldfish, Santa.” He paused for a second and then seemed to decide he hadn’t given me enough information. “For my treat. We don’t got that stuff.”

Making an exaggerated thinking face, I nodded. “Yes, I don’t have cheese fish. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them in the meat department.”

Stirling couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to laugh or roll his eyes again, so he settled on a slightly frustrated sigh like I’d told a bad Dad joke. “Santa… that’s silly.”

“I like being silly.” Giving him a beard proved that. “But I’m special and very smart. So I can make cheese fish appear.”

Shifting so I could pull out my phone, I chuckled as his mouth dropped open. “Santa, we don’t do that. We’re not lazy. We buy our own groceries so the stupid people don’t get it wrong.”

One time.

I complained about the asshole delivery guy one time and he was going to make sure I remembered it for the rest of our lives.

“But you’re more important than laziness or stupid people.” Or people who deliberately managed to get every item wrong.

Every item.

“Aww.” Leaning over and getting bubbles everywhere, he kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Santa.”

Ignoring the mess and his blatant manipulation, I smiled. “What kind of goldfish do we want? I’m really hoping you mean crackers.”

That got more silly giggles, but thankfully he nodded. “Yes. The good kind.”

Not helpful at all… and for an adorable helper that was saying a lot.

By scrolling through the stupid delivery app, we finally narrowed down what the good ones meant and I had a feeling he’d been sneaking them on his own because he had a lot of opinions on Goldfish crackers.

But through trial and error and a Dom with a thing for snack foods, we got several packages ordered before the bubbles fell flat.

It made me the best Santa ever and it also made me realize that I was going to drop a note to Dr. Miles and make sure he knew that Stirling had been sneaking stuff he wanted but didn’t want to admit he wanted.

It might’ve made me a bad Dom but I wasn’t going to worry about that unless he complained or Dr. Miles tattled on me.

“Alright, how about we get you cleaned up?” We’d looked for the crackers for so long his water was almost cold, and without toys, I wasn’t sure what we’d do in the tub.

Luckily for me, I had a helper who was more into bubbles than the actual bath, so now that they were gone, he was done. “Clean and kisses and snacks and books.”

“That’s right.” I reached for the bodywash since making sure he was actually clean seemed to be the next step. “We need to figure out if we want an adventure book or if we want a funny book.”

There had to be electronic kids’ books, right?

I saw parents giving kids tablets all the time… at least some of them had to be reading a book? Statistically, it just made sense.

“Hmm.” Giving me cute thinking faces while I ran a washcloth over his chest and arms, Stirling finally shrugged when I got lower on his torso. “I don’t know.”

“Me neither.” We’d fix that, though. “Up on your knees.”

As he giggled and scrambled to obey, actually managing not to kill himself, he wiggled his hips so his dick swung back and forth. “Happy book?”

I was a terrible Santa and rolled my eyes. “A romance novel? Really?”

His answer was to kiss my cheek and snicker as I started to wash his penis. “Happy books, Santa.”

Groaning, I ignored the way his body loved the attention he was getting and the idea of reading happy books. “Alright, but a low-heat happy book.”

I was not reading incest porn or something like that to my helper.

Nope.

Stirling’s grin was wicked but he nodded enthusiastically. “Town witches. Little happy, Santa.”

If I was remembering the series he was talking about correctly, his complaint had been the low heat. “Alright, we can try one of those books. But Santa is not reading big happy scenes to his cute helper.”

As my hand slipped between his legs to wash his ass, he cocked his head and watched me curiously. “Santa no happies?”

He’d definitely slipped into a younger headspace from either getting the Goldfish confession out or just from his stress finally fading, but I thought I understood the question.

I hoped I understood the question.

“Santa has no problem giving his special helper happy tickles or just doing happy things in general with his cute helper.” I proved that by wiggling my finger and getting a giggle from Stirling as his dick perked up again.

“But… but reading about other people doing happy things seems… I don’t know how to explain it.” Frowning, I worked on arranging the words in a way that wouldn’t be triggering to him or make me sound like a dick, but it was taking a second and he finally leaned over and kissed my cheek again.

“Limits, Santa.” He gave me a big smile and patted my other cheek with a wet hand. “Good Santa.”

“Thank you.” I’d have to figure out what my limits were, but for the time being he seemed content. “But we can find adventure books or mysteries or aliens?”

Stirling snorted and gave me a look like he thought my IQ had slipped several points lower. “Aliens always happy, Santa.”

Oh.

Yes, I could see that. Humans would really appreciate the attention of happy aliens. “Okay, we’ll stay away from the aliens for now.”

Did they make Amish gay romance?

Murder, She Wrote gay romance?

“We’ll find lots of options and we can curl up and read any time you want.” With him clean and in a good mental state and with his snack en route, I pulled the plug in the tub and kissed his forehead. “Let’s go find jammies and a book.”

First Santa and helper activity time was going to be considered a success… so I was curious to see how round two would go.