Page 15

As much as it was something that was on my mind the moment I found out he was gay, it wasn’t something I was ever going to act on, at least not instigate. I was a little, and I had little needs, like a Daddy to call me a good boy and to take care of me with hot cocoa and meals, bubble baths and rubber duckies, and blanket forts, of course. All the things Hardin had already been doing for me.

We showered off the excitement and I got into a onesie with little gummy plastic bits on the feet that stopped me from slipping and sliding everywhere. Hardin got changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater, saying something about checking on the animals one final time before they felt the full effects of the storm. I volunteered to go with him, but he wanted me to stay safe in here where it was warm.

He was outside for about thirty minutes. Snow fell in large thick clumps, whipping at the window and sliding down to create tiny mounds. I watched and waited until he got back, covered in the snow. The wind howled the moment the door opened. His hat, however, still firmly planted on his head, and covered in a thin layer of snow.

“It’s gonna be a beast,” he said, holding two shovels. “Just in case we have to dig ourselves out in the morning.”

“Dig ourselves out?”

“Yeah. It happens from time, these storms are unforgiving,” he said. “But we’ve got enough fire wood to see us through until midday tomorrow, if we must.” He closed the door and locked it before pulling a small piece of wood from the baseboard on the ground in front of it.

“What about the animals?”

“I spread some extra feed for them,” he said. “It’s gonna be stressful for a few of them, but I’ve reinforced the doors with extra hay bales so they should be ok.”

I didn’t know much about taking care of animals. I only knew how to take care of soft, cuddly teddy bears, and I’d occasionally failed at that, spilling food and drink on them. “Well, do you want to come and share body heat with me so we don’t get cold?” I gestured to the fort which had gone through a little refresh after the mess we’d made, and some of the blankets over the top had come away.

“I’m gonna get out of these clothes first, but then I’ll come join you,” he said. “You need anything from me?”

“Well, I didn’t get that—”

“More cocoa, I’m on it,” he said, stripping out of his snow covered clothes. “I’m thinking soup later. Bread bowls, perhaps too.”

I wasn’t going to say no to being taken care of with homecooked meals. “Yummy.”

While Hardin changed, I retreated to the fort. I was surprised the dogs hadn’t been in here and tried chewing my teddies, but Hardin had them in his room on their dog beds. It was probably for the best. I had my crayons and coloring book at the ready. I was in such a happy headspace, and that hadn’t always been the case, even when I was in my little world.

Laid on my belly, kicking my feet around, I colored a page and whistled a tune. There were no words this time, but it was all about the teddy on the page. A teddy with a bow between its ears, it wore a long dress, and held a bouquet of flowers.

“Who’s that?” Hardin asked, startling me.

A sentence of garbled gibberish came out.

“Oh, I don’t know what this is.”

“It’s a coloring page. I’m just coloring,” I said.

“I was coming to ask if you wanted whipped cream again. I know you spilled it all over yourself last time.”

“Yes, of course.” I wouldn’t make the same mistake. A lie, I definitely had done in the past, but I was committing myself not to make it now. “And the marshmallows too.”

“They’re still on this tray out here,” he said. “I’ll bring them back in once it’s warmed up.”

Earlier had taken me by surprise, but now we’d done it, there was no awkward, I want him to screw my brains out. He’d already done that. I could now tick, cowboy off my list of men to have sex with, even if I had assumed cowboys were fictional before meeting him.

I didn’t think we would enjoy each other’s company as much as we did.

Together in the tent, drinking cocoa and listening to the winds pick up outside, we were actually bonding. I colored in pictures and he was reading my books, without commentary, I’d told him I didn’t want to hear anything, good or bad. I was nervous to know his thoughts, so I just flat out refused any of them.

“Since I’m probably gonna be staying here,” I started. “I think you need to get a Christmas tree.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. A Christmas tree would bring so much life and fun to the house.”

“As well as pine needles and whatever insects are living on the tree,” he said. “I’m not against it, well, not completely. But I don’t do Christmas.”

I locked eyes with him, my brows hurting to furrow so deep on my forehead. “That doesn’t sound like a nice way to live.”

“I’ve never done Christmas, I like to live the way I’ve been living,” he said, closing the comic book. He clearly knew I was about to get into this topic with a lot of passion.

“And I’m not telling you to change, I’m just asking you to accommodate.”

Compared to the face I’d seen when I arrived, Hardin was completely softened now. “I’m willing to get a tree, but you’ll have to decorate it. I’ll supervise, of course. And I’m not sure if there will be any of those twinkling lights. So, it’ll just have to be old tinsel from the storage.”

“Or, I ask June to come up, once the storm has cleared and she can bring some.”

“Maybe there are some lights,” he said. “I don’t want June to have to go out of her way to come up here. Not when we’re cohabitating. I don’t want to overwhelm or confuse her.”

“You need to let loose a little, June is lovely.”

“She is, but I don’t need her or the town knowing every detail of my life,” he said. “I’m happy to keep them all at arm’s length. I tried that with you as well, but I guess I got a little carried away with—” He blinked wildly for a moment, staring into my eyes.

“With what?” I asked, popping my lips together.

“With a side of myself I’d not paid much attention to.”

“The Daddy side?”

“You can call it that. Yes.”

“As someone in desperate need of a Daddy, I think the ideal one for me is someone who has a Christmas tree, real or fake, I don’t mind. And someone who makes good hot chocolate, which you do, so check . And my ideal Daddy would also have to be someone—”

Hardin tucked a thumb under my chin, pushing my head up slightly. “Am I your usual type?”

My type was very ill-defined. “I don’t have a type, that’s my type, not having a type.”

“You’re my type,” he said, rubbing his thumb under my chin until it curved to my cheek. “You’re creative, you’re shorter than me, you find fun in anything you do., and you take orders well.”

“I do?”

“You might not notice it, but you always do everything I’d asked.”

I hadn’t noticed, but I was obedient. I’d say that makes me a good boy . “Are you gonna say anything else?”

“The way your eyes light up, they sparkle when you’re given positive reinforcement,” he said. “You’re desperate to be called a good boy .”

A half-moan slipped out of my mouth. I hadn’t meant for it to happen. It was a natural bodily function to the word.

“Well, my good boy , if you do want that Christmas tree, you’ll have to keep being good,” he said. “And wait a couple days. That’s how long it’ll take anyway. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if you’ve seen, but there’s a storm outside.”

All he was asking of me was to be good. I could do that without a problem.

The snowstorm went on throughout the evening and all through the night. Thankfully, we were both all warmed up on hearty soup and homemade bread bowls to even notice. We spent the night together in his bed and the mattress that almost swallowed me whole. It was the best night of sleep I’d had in a while, even better than some of the fancy hotels I’d stayed in while doing book signings across parts of the country.

When I woke the following morning, Hardin was out of bed, although his warm impression was still in the pillow. I pressed my head into it and inhaled his scent. It wasn’t until I was fully awake that I found I was also dry humping at the duvet as well.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Hardin’s deep morning voice spoke. He crawled into bed behind me and hugged me. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I’m an early riser.” And from the thickness poking me in my back, it wasn’t the only early riser about him.

Through a yawn, I tried speaking but my voice was all mashed up. “Did the house survive?” I managed eventually.

“It did. We got off unscathed. There’s about two feet of snow in front of the doors, but I’ll deal with that once I’ve had breakfast,” he said, squeezing his arm around my waist. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“What are you offering?” I asked. “And is it poking me in the back?”

“Breakfast sausage is on the menu,” he said. “But I’m not sure if you’re ready for it.”

The way his voice rasped in my ear was a lubricant all on its own, and my cock was solid. “How about I check?”

“Be my guest,” he said, rolling over.

In a tank top and a pair of boxer briefs, Hardin laid back and gave me all the space to touch his body. I was never usually this horny. I’d sometimes gone days without even masturbating, but being around him, whether it was his cowboy pheromones, something in me was desperate to feel the way an orgasm did through my body.

Sucking his cock through the button hole of his briefs, he wasted no time in turning me around on him and going for a sixty-nine as we both helped ourselves to some breakfast sausage. I couldn’t let my brain get too carried away with the idea, otherwise I’d start chomping down.

We lasted about fifteen minutes of rolling around in bed before I bust my nut without warning, making a mess all in his bedsheets. I looked at him with a pouty expression and wide eyes, to then promise I’d swallow his load. I didn’t want to make anymore waste. And he agreed, delivering his warm load down my throat.

He kicked the duvet off the bed and cuddled me afterwards. I was the little spoon, no longer getting jabbed in the back by his erection.

“Is this the longest you’ve stayed in bed?” I asked.

“Assuming I’m not sick, yeah, this is the longest,” he said, “although usually with more blanket coverage.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was happening until it did.”

“Good boys ask for forgiveness anyway,” he said.

“And you forgive me?”

“Have you asked?”

Putting in all the effort to shuffle around and meet his eyes. “Will you forgive me?”

“What for?” he asked, kissing my forehead.

“Um. For cumming on your bedding.”

Hardin hummed, oohing and ahhing over the idea of forgiving me. “That’s twice now. The first time over me. But I suppose I forgive you for it. It’s not like it could be controlled. You’re only a little, who could put the blame on you?” he kissed my forehead again, his soft beard ticking the bridge of my nose.

Pulling my head down to his chest, I cocooned myself in his arms. His heartbeat was loud in my ears, thumping fast. It was so soothing it almost sent me back to sleep. But I didn’t, not for lack of trying. We apparently still had a busy day ahead, and needed actual food to fill our bellies before it happened.

For a split second, I forgot I’d come here to escape my brain and put it to use for something else. My agent sold the trip as a place I could go for a hard reset. I wondered if they were two different things now. Hardin was definitely the hard , I only needed to find my reset now.

“How do you like your eggs?” he asked, after we’d relocated to the kitchen.

“As pancakes,” I told him, cuddling my arms around myself in the chill of the room. He took notice of it and told me he’d take care of the fire soon.

“I can make pancakes,” he said. “As long as that was a serious answer.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I could even make you a cake if you asked nice enough.”

My jaw could’ve been on the floor with the way it opened.

“Not the first things I learned,” he said. “But I’m surprised that you’re surprised by that. I made the bread yesterday, and I made all that food the other days.”

Honestly, I’d thought they were box mixes, and there was no shame in that, but when someone could make food from scratch, it put them in a new light. “Now I have more things, like, what about cookies? We could make Christmas cookies?”

“We could, but I don’t think we will.”

“Boo! Why not?”

“Because you looked at me like that,” he said with a big smirk. “I’ll happily make cookies for someone who actually think I’m skilled in the kitchen.”

“I do, I do!” I was near ready to throw myself on the floor and beg for it.

I’ll see how you behave today and then I’ll think about it,” he said, flashing me a wink.

I knew he could cook, but baking was different. I was digging myself out of a mental hole. I didn’t want Hardin to think I just thought of him as a hard faced cowboy who only knew how to reheat soup—because that wasn’t the case at all. He could do that and more.

He made pancakes, thick and fluffy for the two of us to share.

“You need as many of these as you can get down you,” he said. “You’re gonna be getting a work out in once we’re finished eating.”

“A work out?” I asked, wiggling my brows. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

He laughed. “Oh no, not that type of work out. Two feet of snow type of work out. And then to check on the animals,” he said. “So, eat up. That’s a good boy.”

There he went, using those two magical words like they were sugar, and there I went right after them, lapping it up.