12. Rafferty

It tookeverything I had not to crawl into bed with Kadence last night. Not to fuck—he'd quite worn me out by the time I fell asleep.

I just wanted to hold him.

Luckily, I had enough sense to realize that would be a bad idea as things stood. But as I lie in bed, looking up at the ceiling the next morning, I'm aware that the nature of our deal is already shifting, at least on my end.

I want more. I need it.

Puffing out my cheeks, I rub my forehead and wonder if I've officially lost my mind. But there's no denying the fact that I haven't been this relaxed in a very long time.

This happy.

I had a hunch that the sex would be good, and it has. No, it's been spectacular. But I've also enjoyed Kadence's company. Simply watching a movie with him yesterday was deeply rewarding. I like feeding and bathing him. I want to make his nightmares stop.

Is this what it means to really be a Daddy? Right now, it feels like so much more than a name to be called in the heat of a scene. It feels like who I am to him.

That's…a lot. Not to mention unexpected. I don't think I can reasonably unravel the way I'm feeling about everything by this evening.

Then I remember that I'm Rafferty fucking McKenna, and I never have to do anything I don't want to.

Well…aside from the fact that I'm trapped in this sham of a loveless marriage. But indulging in this tryst feels like the perfect rebellion against that.

I rub the scruff on my chin and debate shaving. Kadence is putting so much effort into his appearance for me, I should at least try and meet him halfway. But, Jesus Christ, I'm so over always having to play pretend and put on a show for everyone around me. Whether it's at the office or at a function or even around my own damn wife. It was such a novelty wearing a T-shirt and jeans yesterday.

I don't want to be a slob, however, so I still shower and pick out some fresh clothes before heading to Kadence's room and knocking on his door.

When this started out, I had some fantasy of barging in there whenever I damn well felt like and using my doll any way I wanted. But I love that he makes sure to be all made up for me. As much as I enjoy playing, he isn't an inanimate object.

I respect him enough to give him boundaries.

Sure enough, I hear a slight commotion and a panicked squeak. "Just a minute, Daddy!" he cries out a second later.

I chuckle and shake my head, even though there's no one to see me do it. "No rush, pretty doll," I assure him. "I just wanted to advise you to wear something a little sturdier and more covered up than usual. Come down to the kitchen when you're ready."

This time I feel the pause through the door, as if I can see him frowning. "Yes, Daddy," he says eventually.

I could tell him what I have planned, but I enjoy surprising him. Something tells me that not a lot of people have done that in his life, at least not in a good way. In fact, I have a horrible suspicion that he's suffered a fair bit at the hands of others. So I want to put a smile on his face.

Besides, I'm Daddy, and I call the shots.

I wait for him downstairs, sipping coffee and reading an article from the Financial Times on my phone. It's perhaps fifteen minutes before he appears, peering around the corner almost like he's nervous. I grin, seeing that he's picked a perfect outfit.

"Good morning, gorgeous," I say as he slinks into full view.

I was most concerned about his footwear, but he's got on the ankle boots he wore when he arrived. Sneakers would be better, but I doubt he would have bought anything like that if he was planning on being a sexy doll the entire visit. Besides, they'll be fine for what I have in mind, I'm sure.

He's paired them with lace-trimmed socks that just peak over the top, a lilac tennis skirt, a white polo shirt, and a pale pink jacket. Sunglasses hang from the center of his shirt's collar, and his face looks beautifully done up as usual. His curls are fresh and bouncy, and as he steps closer, I smell how he's enveloped in a cloud of sweet candy scents.

"Is this okay?" he asks shyly.

"Flawless," I tell him, resting one hand on his hip and skimming the other up his thigh to cup his ass. Good. He's got decent underwear on. Still lacey panties, but all the important bits appear to be covered.

No one should bother us today, but I don't feel like sharing my doll with anyone. Not right now.

"I made us a picnic for brunch," I tell him, resting my hand on the wicker hamper that's waiting for us on the countertop. "Are you up for a walk to the creek?"

For a moment, he just stares at the basket. Then he blinks and looks at me. "You want…? Um…okay. I mean—yes, Daddy." He beams at me, but I can see in his eyes that he's still very thrown by my suggestion.

Yep, as I suspected, I doubt he's used to anyone putting much thought into how they treat him. If something as simple as a picnic can floor him like this, it's going to be easy to spoil him. I want to surprise and delight him. This old dog still has some new tricks up his sleeve.

I'd checked the weather forecast earlier, but I always find you never really know the truth until you're out in the elements. Luckily, it's a beautiful day as we walk across the grounds, following the path that cuts around the lawn on the estate where it then follows the edge of the woods until we reach the trickling water. This wide but shallow creek eventually flows down to the nearby town that took its name from it.

I carry the hamper on one side and hold Kadence's hand on the other. He's quiet, but I catch a glimpse of him every couple of minutes as he looks around at the scenery. I wouldn't peg him to be a city boy, but he certainly seems charmed by our surroundings.

"So you can come up here anytime you want?" he asks eventually.

I nod as a warm zephyr caresses our skin. "This is all part of my estate. I have a team that comes out every quarter to make sure nothing gets too overgrown, and there are fences to keep people from trespassing. I've never really had any trouble."

I should say ‘we,' but Charleen hardly pays any attention to the grounds, rarely venturing farther than the patio when she hosts people here. It's me who likes to take myself wandering, although I can't recall the last time I did.

It seems that Kadence is inspiring all kinds of changes in me.

We find a shady spot under a tree close to the creek so we can see the glittering water splashing over the pebbles, making faint rainbows with the fine misty spray. I lay out a thick picnic blanket and open up the hamper, revealing that as part of the design there are two plates, cutlery, and short-stemmed Champagne flutes secured to the lid. Kadence's eyebrows rise although he doesn't say anything.

Hey, just because we're outdoors doesn't mean we have to slum it.

I fix him a mimosa, then proceed to open up the various boxes of food I packed this morning. I've chosen sandwiches, crudités with dips, potato chips, and little cakes this time rather than bother trying to prepare anything hot.

As Kadence isn't in what he calls ‘doll mode,' I encourage him to help himself. He moans as he takes a bite of a mini cheesesteak roll, his eyelids fluttering shut as crumbs cling to his lip gloss.

Fuck. I want to kiss him so badly. But I know that would be crossing a line that he's silently put into place. Kissing is so intimate. This is supposed to be a fling.

Supposed to be.

I reach into the basket and show him what I'd hidden near the bottom. "I thought we could spend some time out here reading together," I say as I hand him the crime thriller he started yesterday. For myself, I've selected a somewhat trashy-looking navy adventure that I kept telling myself I didn't have time to waste on.

Well, now I do.

His eyes light up. "Oh, yes," he says eagerly, taking it from my fingers with care. "I'll have to see how much I can read before I leave later."

He laughs, but then he gives me a strange look before gulping down some of his drink and taking another bite of his sandwich.

Bingo. Perfect opening.

"About that…"

He shakes his head and hastily swallows. "I was kidding. I can finish it with an eBook."

I laugh softly as I reach over and cup the side of his face. "I want you to finish the book, Kadence."

"But I?—"

"I don't want you to leave tonight."

This time, he stares at me for several long seconds, unblinking. "You…huh?"

I brush any crumbs that might be lingering from my fingers, gently extract both the book and the roll from his grip, then slip my hands against his, holding them firmly.

"I'm not a fool," I explain. "I understand that time stops for no one and it's not possible to exist in a bubble. But I would like to discuss a slightly more long-term arrangement."

His eyes search mine for a moment. "H-how long-term?"

I shrug. "At least a week. Maybe two."

Maybe all summer.I don't say that out loud, however, so as not to spook him. This might fizzle out after a few days of trying to navigate real-world obligations. But I want to give us the breathing room to at least try.

He nibbles on his lip. "How would that work?"

"Well," I say with a grin. "I would indeed need to work, but I can do a lot of that from home. I can scale back the staff. We'll mostly have the place to ourselves. I'd like you to stay here and keep me company."

He swallows and frowns, his gaze flicking down to the ground before looking at me again. "I can't work from home."

That's not a no. I like that he's thinking this through practically.

"You said you weren't fond of your job," I prompt.

He scoffs. "Oh, I hate it. I just don't know what else to do right now, and I have bills to pay."

Excellent. Time to be exactly the kind of asshole people think I am.

"Quit. Tell them a better offer came along. If you're just temping, I assume you don't have to give any notice."

His jaw drops. "Uh, yeah. I mean, no. No, I don't have a notice period. At least I don't think I do. But I do have rent and?—"

Cutting him off, I shake my head. "You'll be doing a summer internship with me. As a personal assistant. I'll set you up with a proper salary. Maybe even send you out to get coffee and do laundry from time to time."

He's still looking shell-shocked at me, so I wink to try and reassure him. He shakes himself like he's coming back to his senses. "You're serious, aren't you?" he asks breathlessly.

I rub my thumb against his cheek, loving how he leans into the touch. "Kadence," I say in all seriousness. "I'm not ready to let you go, yet. I can't promise you anything beyond a few weeks. But I would very much like to explore more of this dynamic. You excite me in a way I've never experienced before. I'm not talking about a relationship or anything public. I'm talking about indulging in you for as long as I desire. If you could tolerate me for a little longer, it would mean a lot to me if you'd consider what I'm offering."

For a minute or two, I watch him breathe. "You'd really pay me to stay here and be pretty for you?"

I can't help but laugh. Trust him to cut to the heart of the issue. "Yes, baby doll. If that's crossing a line for you?—"

"I didn't say that," he interrupts hotly. "There's nothing wrong with sex work."

"No, there's not," I agree. I've always had a more liberal attitude toward the world's oldest profession than a lot of my puritanical peers. As if most of the men I know haven't indulged in paid pleasure at least once in their lives. Hypocrites.

"Until you get bored of me?" he clarifies.

I don't mean to sound harsh, but the realist in me knows there is only a short lifespan for an arrangement like this. "Until we wish to part ways," I say diplomatically. "At which point, I'll write a glowing professional reference for you and have my executive assistant sign and swear to it."

Audrey won't mind. I've asked her to do far worse, I'm sure.

I still have one hand cupped against his face and the other is holding one of his. He uses his free one to rub his sternum as he looks out over the grass. Leaves rustle and the creek bubbles, providing a calm background to his decision-making process.

Honestly, it hadn't really crossed my mind what I'd do if he said no. I appreciated he'd most likely think on it, but I was confident he'd say yes. Because I'm certain he wants this as much as I do. And he'd be a fool to turn down the kind of money I'm willing to give him.

My boy isn't a fool.

So when he turns his gaze back my way and gives the smallest of nods, I'm not surprised, but I am extremely glad.

"Good boy," I murmur, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone.

I want to kiss him. God, I want to kiss him.

Instead, I pull him into my lap and make short work of his underwear. We make love in the glorious sunshine, then spend the rest of the day lounging around eating, drinking, fucking, and reading. Kadence finishes his book.

We have time now.