Chapter 5

Kendry

Iwent home, put on my bunny PJs with the feet, and climbed into my big bed with the cartoon sheets. I lined up my collection of bears around me, said goodnight to each one, and a good night to Clovis, wherever he was, then pulled the covers up.

I couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried.

Good thing tomorrow was Sunday. I didn't have to get up early.

The reason I couldn't sleep was almost annoying. It was Zale. I couldn't stop seeing his face with the overgrown dark bangs parted to the side, and his long, muscular body splayed out from the little chair halfway across the reading nook floor.

And his scent. It was like it had permeated my skin though he had never ever touched me. The fine leather smell of his jacket along with a kind of brawny soap scent had stuck inside my throat and lungs. I clung to my second favorite bear after Clovis and imagined Zale in his place, me hugging him, warm and big and firm. What would that be like?

It was a mistake to indulge myself with that question. Zale wasn't interested in me. He had said he wasn't a daddy and he only liked to come to the playroom for a break. And if I ever did want to have someone more permanent in my life, I needed someone who understood that I was a little who wanted my way of life twenty-four-seven, and not just for hookups and sexcapades and then let's forget about me until next time. I needed a real daddy, not a play daddy.

Zale and I would never work out. It wasn't in the stars.

Still—a boy could dream. No harm in that.

Tomorrow night I would see him again. A liquid warmth coursed through my stomach at the thought.

I openedthe door to the playroom. It wasn't busy yet. There were about five littles playing, and several daddies relaxing with drinks and adult talk on one of the couches.

I came early because I didn't want to stay out late. I had work in the morning. Ugh. I worked from home on web design Monday through Friday, but I had clients who started emailing me quite early. Some days I worked long hours into the evenings and other days I quit by noon. I loved that aspect of it, but it did mean tonight I wouldn't be able to hang out long.

Zale and I had not discussed a time. Last night I'd found him already in the playroom and I'd arrived around nine o'clock. It was seven now.

For tonight, I wore the cutest outfit in my closet, purple short-shorts with purple and green plaid suspenders, and a lacy stretch t-shirt that barely covered my ribcage. To complete the outfit, I had knee socks that matched the suspenders, and black patent leather strap shoes. I felt very little boy femme, so I'd added a colorful bracelet made out of teething beads and a candy necklace.

Zale wasn't a daddy, so he might not appreciate it, but who knew? I told myself I didn't care if he liked my outfit or not because I'd tried to change to please daddies in the past and that never worked.

I started out browsing the books. There were a lot. People donated them all the time to the playroom, so the shelves were full and new books came in monthly.

I picked out five that looked fun and interesting, and headed to the little nook. The corner wasn't as cozy as I'd have liked, but it was away from the chaos of the more rambunctious boys. I sat down in my usual chair, books in my lap, and waited.

A daddy who I didn't know came up to me, told me I was cute as a bug, and asked me if I needed anything. I told him no. He asked if I would like to come sit with him.

"I'm waiting for someone," I said.

He wandered off.

It was odd to be able to tell the truth for once. I really was waiting for someone. Normally, I used that line to chase away the more eager daddies who were not my types. Or any daddy, for that matter, since often I was in the mood to remain alone and just watch the room and read. I liked the social feeling of being in a kink room with others, but I didn't always like the actual socializing part. And the sex rooms, which I'd wandered into a few times, got boring fast. I was curious, and not a virgin, and I didn't mind a naked male body at all, but I preferred less mindless lust and more actual little space. Plus, I got propositioned a lot when I left the little room, and though that was flattering, it made me feel awkward and out of place. The little room had just a few lonely daddies. They were easy to handle. Most of the daddies were spoken for, as were most of the littles.

I stuck my legs out in front of me and crossed my ankles, showing off my shiny shoes. I watched the littles and boys play, nervously rubbing my hands together in my lap.

Finally, the door to the playroom opened. Zale walked in and the breath left my lungs in relief.

He looked handsome in his leather jacket and tight black jeans. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him, but had thick arms and thighs, and broad shoulders, and he was so tall I thought I might be able to actually climb him like a tree.

Beneath one arm, he carried two large pillows. Pink and blue. Furry and soft. I sat up straighter as he headed straight toward me.

"Hi, Kendry."

"Hi." My cheeks heated for no reason.

Zale held the pillows out in front of him. "I brought these pillows because these damn chairs are just too hard."

It was true. The chairs would've been nicer for visits if they were padded just a bit.

Zale continued. "One for me. One for you. What color do you want?"

"For me?" I pointed to my chest.

"Yep. For you."

I hesitated. A gift meant there might be strings attached. I studied his face. It looked open and kind, the muscles around his eyes softer than the rest of him, his half-grown bangs swinging forward to brush the sides of his cheeks. He didn't have any of that feral look some men got when they just want to hook up, to fuck. Instead, he seemed super calm. And he smelled good again.

"Pink, please."

He handed it over and I got up and placed it in my chair. When I sat back down, the pillow cushioned my backside just right. It made the nook cozy the way it should have been in the first place.

Zale put his pillow in the short chair he'd been using. He never complained, never went to get a bigger chair from the other side of the room. He sat, sinking into the blue pillow, and stretching out his big body as he sighed and tilted his head back.

I watched his entire frame relax second by second, the muscles caught in his tight jeans loosening, his arms sagging downward, his shoulders slightly slumped. He turned and looked at me.

"What do we have for tonight?"

I held up the first book in my lap. "Turtles."

"Good. I like turtles. Let's find out what they're up to."

I began to read.

For two weekswe met every night except Tuesday when the club was closed. I kept waiting for Zale to ask me out. He never did.

Was it up to me? But I was the little and he was—well—I didn't know. All I knew for sure was he had said he wasn't a daddy. That made things difficult. I didn't know what to do. If he wasn't a daddy, then he might not like me. Not in any way more than just friendship.

But then why did he keep asking me if I was coming back the next night, and the next?

This was all so different. Zale was confusing but also like fresh air. He didn't pressure me or stress me out by wanting me for only a hookup. Yet he was a comforting presence I couldn't stop thinking about after I got home and went to bed. I thought about how sad I'd be when he got tired of me and didn't show up to the playroom anymore. I wanted more of him. I craved more reading time with him. Or more time in general.

As the nights piled up, I realized I was doing things to try to show him I liked him. I slid my chair closer to his. I asked for two juices instead of one. I placed the books half off my lap and closer to him so he could see the pictures. He was attentive, but never touched me. Not that I had consented to that. Maybe I was being too subtle?

I missed him during the daytime hours when he wasn't around. I would close my eyes in bed at night and reimagine his scent and wonder what it would be like to lie next to such a tall, big, warm human being who wasn't a daddy and didn't seem to want me.

I decided that might be even sadder. He had to want me. I was super cute. Truthfully, he didn't have to want me. What was I thinking?

I hadn't had good experiences with the last few daddies. I didn't want to be touched even though I had let some of them do it with me, even though it had left me hollow and empty inside afterward, especially when they never called me again. And my last daddy had tossed me out like I was a defective toy.

I didn't want any repeats of all that stuff.

By the end of two weeks, we'd gone through half the books in the playroom.

It was another Friday night. I fidgeted more than usual, dropping the books once, which Zale picked up and placed gently back on my lap. I accidentally tore one page in a too-eager page-turn.

"Oh no!"

Zale turned and looked at the damage. "It's not too bad." He pressed his long fingers lightly across the jagged edge of the paper.

"It's terrible. I hurt the book."

"That's why they make tape."

"What?"

"We can fix it."

"We can?"

"Yep." He glanced around the room. "Have you ever seen tape in here?"

"No. Wait. Yes. Sometimes the littles like to cut shapes out of construction paper. They tape the shapes on other paper to make faces and animals and designs."

"I'll go look at the crafts table. Wanna come with me? That book looks like it might need immediate medical attention."

"Yes!" I jumped up. "We have to fix it."

Zale got his long legs under him and stood gracefully for someone so tall.

It was busy at the crafts table. Being a weekend night, the table was full. I saw some clear tape and spoke up. "Can we please borrow your tape?"

The little using it was someone I'd never seen before. He put his hand on the tape and said, "It's mine."

Zale leaned in. "We'll give it right back. We just need two pieces."

"Please?" I repeated.

The boy looked from me to Zale, then back to me. "You said ‘please'. That's nice. Okay. But your daddy needs to make sure you return it."

I started to protest that Zale wasn't my daddy, but Zale spoke first. "I promise we will return it quickly."

I glanced up at Zale. He smiled and winked at me. Winked! My stomach gave a couple of flip-flops as the boy handed over the tape.

Zale and I found a space at a non-busy table. He knelt down with me and together, carefully, we made the repair. My cheeks flushed at how delicate he was with his long fingers holding the edges together as I placed the tape over the paper. We taped the tear from both sides so the page was smooth again, and he had matched up the edges so carefully you could hardly see there had been any accident.

I returned the tape to the boy. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiled and cheerfully said, "Your daddy is beautiful."

"Oh, um, he's not my daddy."

"Does that mean he's up for grabs?"

"Well, not really."

"Then he's yours?"

"I don't know. I mean, no. But he's not looking."

He grinned up at me. "You're jealous. You want him to be yours. Do you want me to tell him?"

"No. And no. Don't." This boy was beginning to annoy me.

"Fine. I won't. But if you need any help, my name is Dru. What's yours?"

"Uh, I need to go now. I'm supposed to be reading." I walked away.

Why didn't I tell him my name? He'd made me a little upset with all his questions. On impulse, maybe out of a teensy bit of frustration, I didn't want to give it to him. I wasn't looking for little friends. I quickly reminded myself: I wasn't looking for anyone.

Zale waited for me by the reading corner holding two juices, one in each hand. Had he heard my exchange with Dru?

He smiled and held out a juice box to me, the straw already in it. He was always thoughtful like that.

"Thank you." I took the juice and set the books down between our chairs.

"No problem. Everything okay?" he asked.

I nodded. My face got even hotter to think he'd heard me talking to Dru. I didn't want anyone hitting on Zale. I wanted him to myself.

Even though I wasn't looking for anyone.

But Zale wasn't just anyone. He was like a big secret friend who I'd decided maybe I could tell all my secrets to and he wouldn't ever be surprised, and he could be trusted to keep those secrets locked in his heart. That was the Zale who brought me juice and let me read.

"Kendry?" Zale rarely said my name. It was like he was a little worried and soft on me at the same time.

I looked up.

"It would be really nice if—" He stopped. His Adam's apple bobbed.

When he didn't continue, I prompted him. "If what?"

He turned away, glancing at the wall. His head went side to side, like he'd decided something. "If you'd finish reading that book to me. The one we just gave medical aid to."

That wasn't what he'd been about to ask. I wondered and kept wondering as we both sat sipping juice, me reading. As usual.