Page 9 of Tantrum Interrupted (Blue Collar Daddies in the City #10)

HUNTER

Roman had a way of turning even the most mundane day into something special.

If I scrolled back through my camera roll, there’d be a hundred silly selfies with my hair sticking up and Roman looming over me in his busted Carhartt with his version of a mean mug on. Mostly it was just funny. And hot. All of his pictures were hot.

He didn’t bring his fancy cameras when we went on dates, but he hated using his phone as a camera because apparently even the most advanced technology wasn’t close to whatever he used for his jobs. Whatevs. He was a camera snob, but he was my camera snob.

I made him smile as I snapped us together at the bowling alley and at mini golf.

And when we were sitting in the Sonic drive-thru with giant slushies.

Everything we did together was fun and exciting, even when it was just running errands or cuddling on the couch.

Sometimes, those were the best moments we shared.

As soon as we started going on “real” dates, I stopped feeling insecure about his feelings for me.

He was showing me off to the world and introducing me as his boyfriend, which was something I didn’t take lightly.

It was a big deal for both of us, and it meant we were serious. Like, seriously serious.

The first time we went bowling, Daddy made me wear this ridiculous shirt he’d bought from a thrift store that said “HUNTER’S PRO SHOP” across the back in glitter vinyl.

I think the only reason he wanted to go bowling was because he found that shirt.

I wasn’t much of a bowler, but Daddy let me keep the bumpers up, so at least I got some pins down on every throw. Well, almost every throw.

Roman bowled a 245. I bowled a 63. Not gonna lie, I was pretty proud of myself for that.

He whistled through his teeth at every pin I hit, and after every round, he nudged me back to the plastic chair and wiped the sweat off my forehead with his calloused thumb.

“You’re a hot mess, baby. Wanna get some ice cream? ”

“Always, Daddy!” I always wanted anything he had to offer. Fortunately for me, it was usually a yummy surprise.

Unfortunately for me, he always paid. That was a rule, not a conversation. He’d hand over his credit card without ever looking at the total, but it made me feel guilty. I made a lot more money than he did. Like, a lot.

But I had a plan to rectify that issue.

Soon enough, we’d live together, and then we’d have to pool funds. I was just giving him a little more time to figure out that we were ready for that.

We also had a date at the go-kart place. Daddy drove like a maniac and clipped my bumper at every turn. When he made me spin out, my engine died, and I finished dead last. When I pouted, he dragged me out to the car and gave me the best blow job of my life. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

It was amazing and another way he showed how much he enjoyed taking care of me.

Every time I woke up in his bed, my arms and legs were wrapped tight around his body. Every inch of my skin was pressed up against him like we were two halves of a puzzle.

Roman always slept hot, so the sheets were usually kicked to the floor and I got lots of peeps at his perfect ass or gorgeous cock. Either way he slept was great for me to gawk at my sexy Daddy.

Whenever he woke me up, it was by spooning me and humming into my hair. “Good morning, baby boy.” I never wanted to move. There was peace in the way he made me feel, like I was weightless and safe at the same time.

I shifted, the crinkle of plastic loud in the hush. “Morning, Daddy.”

“Hungry?”

“Not yet.” But my stomach betrayed me with a loud, miserable grumble.

Roman grinned into my neck. “Liar. Let’s get you changed first.”

I blushed as I always did, even though this was our new normal. I wasn’t shy about the diapers anymore, but my body still had a natural reaction to talking about them. “Yes, please.”

Roman stretched and slid out of bed. He had his own routine for taking off my wet diapers and getting me dressed in my cute printed briefs and whatever big clothes I was wearing for the day.

When he finished, he’d lean down and kiss my forehead. I always laughed when his stubble tickled me.

We went on more dates, sometimes out with people from his work and sometimes just the two of us. When we ran into his boss at the grocery store, Roman introduced me as “his Hunter,” and that made me feel weirdly proud.

I loved being his.

One night, we were at a bar and he wanted to slow-dance.

Neither of us had a whole lot of rhythm, but he put his hands on my waist, pulled me close, and swayed side to side like no one was watching.

When the music stopped, he kissed the top of my head and whispered, “You’re the only one I wanna do this with. Ever.”

That night, back at his place, I crawled to the living room and flopped on the carpet, giggling at the way my diaper made me waddle. “Hugs, Daddy.”

Roman sat on the couch and watched with love and tenderness in his eyes. “You’re my cutie patootie.” He pulled me up onto his lap and held me there. “Never change, baby.”

I nuzzled into his chest, breathing in the smell of his aftershave. As usual, my brain switched off, and I dropped the last ounce of adult responsibility for the day. Daddy was in charge.

We stayed like that for a long time as he played with my hair and told me stories about when he was a kid. He was a menace.

I told him about my own childhood. It was much quieter and less chaotic, but with its own little dramas. Like the time I set the microwave on fire trying to cook ramen and all the years I spent alone in my room, wishing someone would come in and tell me to put down my book and go to bed.

“You got any regrets?” I wasn’t asking about anything specific, but I knew he’d understand.

Roman shrugged. “Sure. But not the kind you’re thinking.”

“What kind then?”

He squeezed me tightly, always holding me close. “I regret all the years I wasn’t looking for you.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just curled up tighter and let his words fill the spaces in my heart that used to be empty.

The days blurred together, but our nights were always spent tangled up in each other’s arms. He didn’t say he loved me, but he showed it, every damn day.

And when he was ready to say it, I would happily say it back. Because I did love him. More than anything in the world and with my whole heart.