Chapter 6

Zale

I'd made a pact with myself from the first night I'd met Kendry. I gave away all my power to him, promising myself if there were any moves to be made between us, he would have to make the first one.

After two weeks of both of us eagerly planning to meet every evening the club was open, I knew a connection was there. Of course, there was. He'd moved his chair closer to mine. We talked more easily between stories. He showed off his physique with the cutest outfits. Plus, we were in a kink club. A person didn't keep showing up to hang out with the same guy at a kink club night after night if there wasn't something there.

But Kendry didn't make any moves. Though it made my stomach hard as a knot to think he might never want me as more than just a reading buddy, I reminded myself I wasn't looking for any quick satisfaction. I'd entered a daddy/boy playroom for the first time, and as a non-daddy, to observe something different from my past kinks and hookups. To gain some sort of inner peace I was missing.

I hadn't expected to meet anyone, let alone feel an attachment.

Surprise and pure pleasure overwhelmed me when I overheard Kendry's conversation with the boy we'd borrowed the tape from to repair a book.

"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."

I couldn't breathe when I'd heard Kendry tell the other boy I wasn't up for grabs, and that he didn't know if I was his. I froze, two juice boxes in hand. My whole world tilted, a reality shift. Did I have a chance with this boy?

I wasn't a daddy, but I wanted something. Him. I had been wanting a chance to show him my patience and truth, my very heart if he allowed it, since our initial meetup.

Now what?

Kendry hadn't seen my reaction. When my senses returned, I moved to our corner and waited for him to return with the repaired book.

When he approached, my thoughts ran ahead of me, and I spoke before thinking.

"It would be really nice if—" I stopped. I had almost broken my own rule and suggested we see each other outside the club.

Wait for him. Just. Wait.

He needed to be the one to suggest. To ask.

I gestured at the book he held, handed him his juice, and we both sat to read together.

I forced a calmness I didn't feel. I listened to his voice as he read, so pure, gentle. But I didn't hear the words.

I set my juice box on the floor and clasped my hands over my tense stomach. Did he notice? Did he see them shaking just a little?

It had never been this bad being in his presence. I had restraint. I had composure. He deserved no less. I already surmised he didn't want a leering, selfish daddy. I didn't want to be that type anyway, daddy or not. He had been spot on to tell the other boy, "He's not looking."

But what if that very belief kept Kendry from making any move at all?

His voice swept over me, alluring and kind. I shut my eyes against all my confusion and let myself float on that sound, no pressure, no stress.

I had time, I told myself. I would take my time with Kendry, all the time he might need, even if it was forever. Deep inside, I knew without any doubt, after overhearing his conversation, a part of him did think I was his. I would take that knowledge like a tiny flame and keep it alive. I would hold onto that revelation and keep coming back.

I had no reason to be confused now. It was all so much plainer, like a light shining down on us both.

"Zale, did you fall asleep?"

"What?" I blinked open my eyes.

"Did you hear the ending?"

"I might have dozed off. But not because the story was boring."

"Maybe it was a little boring." His voice went soft. "Are you tired?"

"Not really." I turned my head slightly, smiling at him.

"Do you work hard?"

I wanted to sit up and face him, but I was afraid to move and distract him in this precious moment. Kendry didn't ask me a lot of questions. At least, not until more recently.

"I work construction."

"That's why you're so big and strong."

"I used to do more of the physical work, but no. It's a lot of office stuff. I'm a foreman now, so I delegate a lot, and I can even work from home a lot, but yes, I've done my share of heavy lifting and still work on sites."

"I do computer stuff. Not really conducive to growing muscles." He paused, one eye closing. "But I do type fast."

"You master the computer and I master cement mixers and ditch diggers. Well, I did in the past."

"Big boy toys." He grinned. "We're more alike than we think, maybe?"

"I would say so." I frowned. "Are you a big boy?"

"I'm little. But when I was in first grade, I aced reading. That's the magic age for me. Six."

"Do you remember that book Now We Are Six?"

"Yes! The Winnie the Pooh guy wrote it. There might be a copy around here!" Kendry jumped up and ran to the bookshelves.

I had been a gentleman with him, and remained so, but I couldn't help but stare at the backs of his luscious thighs where his shorts rode up as he bent to look at the books on the lower shelves. Those little pants were far too short to keep me honest. The thin material hugged the sloping globes of his ass, detailing every line and curve.

Whether he was looking for love or not, this little was not afraid to show off his amazing body.

My stomach tightened until I thought it would cramp. Damn. Was I lying to myself that I had any control at all?

Just then, Kendry ran back to me with a small, green hardback book in his hand. It looked insignificant compared to the other big and bright picture books on the shelves, but I knew it contained some of my favorite little snippets from childhood. I'd once owned a copy just like that green one.

"Found it." He handed it to me.

I paged through it. "I do remember having this book when I was a kid. Do you?"

He nodded. "Did you have a favorite?"

"My brother and I had a favorite."

"Will you read it to me?"

I found it. It was a poem called "Forgiven." My brother and I had just called it the "beetle" poem. When I started reading about how Christopher Robin, who I figured was the boy in the poem, had a beetle named Beetle, but he also answered to Alexander, I started chuckling.

When I finished reading it, Kendry was on the floor laughing, having slid from the pillow in his chair. It really was a pretty good poem-story and took me back to some good days. Maybe I was understanding being little a bit better now, and how the things Kendry took away from the little experience added to his life and special memories more than just as a sexual kink. I had a boy inside me as well, which made me wonder if that meant something more.

But the daddy part of all of this? I still didn't know anything about that except that I loved being with Kendry, sharing with him, enjoying his clothing choices—those short shorts!—and especially these special times of reading fun and funny children's stories.

I slowly paged through the book to make the feelings of this moment linger. A soft touch on my arm nearly startled me.

Kendry, now kneeling at my side, looked up at me with a sweet, wide-eyed gaze that tugged right at the center of my chest.

"Hey." I kept my voice soft.

"I have a question."

"Okay." This was the first time he'd made any moves. At all.

He lowered his lashes, hesitating, his hair shining in the soft light of the room.

"Um, well," he began. "Could you—would you like spending time together outside of the club? I'm just asking because, well, um, it's sorta limited here."

I had been waiting for this. Now was the moment. Spending more time together could hold a lot of layers of meaning. If Kendry was ace, I still wanted to be with him. If all we did was have times like these, and maybe even some cuddling, I would love it. I might have to hold myself back, but all this was strangely fulfilling, and I didn't want to give that up.

I responded quickly. "I would love to take you to dinner. Or just hang out anywhere, actually."

He looked up at me again. This time his eyes held a glow I wanted to fall right into. This was so different for me, like my mind and body were opening up to a sort of beauty like a sunset, or a piece of art I'd never seen before but now wanted on my wall in my home.

"I would like that. Is it okay? I mean, you're—" he hesitated again, shy.

"Well, is it okay with you?" I asked. "I'm not great daddy material, as you know."

He answered quickly. "You're fine. Just fine." A small smile lifted his lips, but the essence of it washed over his whole face.

I would have kissed him then, or liked to, but that was another thing I'd wait for him to initiate.

Would this even work?

I wanted very much to find out.