Chapter 13 Daddy Shamus
The dimly lit steakhouse suddenly felt suffocating, as if someone had vacuumed the air out of the room. The low hum of conversation and the clatter of plates filled the air, intensifying the knot in Shamus's gut. He'd asked for a table away from others to have a private conversation with Miguel.
Bently's sudden reappearance had cast a long shadow over their evening and their blossoming relationship. From across the table, Miguel's bright eyes were clouded with worry as he nervously swirled the ice in his water glass.
Shamus loved this restaurant, drawn in by the red leather booths, the worn wooden tables, and the air thick with the smell of sizzling steaks. As he watched Miguel, the flickering candlelight cast shadows that emphasized the deep worry lines etched around his eyes.
His jaw clenched tightly, Shamus struggled to keep his emotions in check, determined to remain calm. The possessiveness in Bently's voice when he'd demanded Miguel back echoed in Shamus's mind, a sour note amidst the tender feelings that had been blooming. Bently's decision to leave the wedding bands to entice Miguel left him seething with anger. He hadn't expected Miguel's ex to be noticeably older. What did Miguel see in that silver fox? Was Bently Miguel's sugar daddy? What did he do for Miguel that I can't? So many questions were unanswered. Only Miguel had all the answers.
Shamus took a deep breath before reaching across the table, his hand gently clasping Miguel's, their connection filled with a flicker of hope.
"Hey," Shamus said. "We'll figure this out. Together."
Miguel glanced up, his eyes searching Shamus's. "I just…I don't want to ruin things with you, Daddy Shamus. This whole thing with Bently messed with my head."
The concern in Miguel's eyes softened the sharp edges of Shamus's anger. "How did Bently know where you were?"
"My sister Maria told him after he lied to her about us getting back together."
"It's not your fault. Your sister shouldn't have told him, and Bently showing up uninvited…" He let the sentence trail off, his jaw clenching. The possessiveness he felt bubbled just beneath the surface, a primal urge to protect Miguel from this unwanted intrusion.
"Maria is only fifteen, and she was really upset when she found out he lied. What's weird is he has my phone number, but he must have figured I'd hang up." Miguel moved a curl from his eye.
"So, he's never contacted you since the breakup?"
"We had a two-year relationship, and he became a part of my family. Everyone loved him until he left me at Christmas."
"But didn't you say he asked you to move to California with him?"
Miguel nodded. "I had a scholarship to Princeton which I wouldn't throw away. And my mother and sister need me here. There was no way I would move to California."
He forced a smile. "How about we order our food? The prime rib is excellent here."
A hesitant smile appeared at the corner of Miguel's lips. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good." His voice was barely a whisper, but it was a start. Shamus knew it would take time to rebuild the trust that had been shaken, but one thing was certain: he wasn't going anywhere. He'd be there for Miguel, a shield against anyone who tried to hurt him. Because despite his need to claim Miguel as his, a stronger emotion bloomed in his chest—a fierce protectiveness, a love that demanded to be nurtured and fought for. He wanted Miguel and was willing to wait.
Shamus ordered their prime rib dinners, a glass of wine for himself, and a Coke for Miguel. Soon he would be twenty-one and he could order an alcoholic beverage, too.
"You're okay with everything that went on tonight, right?" Miguel asked, his voice barely a whisper. "With me having this…baggage?"
Shamus held his gaze. "We all have baggage, Miguel. The important thing is that we deal with it together." He squeezed his hand again. "We'll figure out how to handle Bently. But nothing has changed, okay? You're still here, you're still mine." The words felt inadequate, but the intensity in his voice seemed to convey more than words ever could.
A flicker of a smile touched Miguel's lips. He squeezed Shamus's hand back, a silent promise hanging between them. The knot in Shamus's gut loosened slightly, replaced by a solid determination.
The server placed their dinners on the table. Miguel was a mess, his hands shaking slightly as he cut into his meat. Shamus ached for him, for the way his confident front had crumbled so easily.
"I'm excited about spending the night in a quiet hotel away from the noise. We can order breakfast if you want," Daddy Shamus said.
"I'm thrilled we're going to be together tonight, away from noise."
"If you want me to ask about changing your room to another floor facing away from the boardwalk, I can do that for you."
"I'd like that."
"Let's talk about us now," Daddy Shamus suggested.
Miguel nodded.
"I'm a daddy. I know you said you want a daddy, and I want my boy. But for each couple, daddy can mean many things. Let's talk about what we want from our Daddy/boy relationship."
"I thought all relationships were the same."
"No. We'll see if our ideas are the same, and if they aren't, don't panic. We'll talk about it. I'm not leaving, no matter what. Do you understand there are no needs you have that will make me leave you?"
"That makes me feel better." Miguel smiled.
"Being your daddy is more than a title you use. My role in our relationship is to listen, guide, and protect you. Do you want to call me Daddy Shamus in safe environments ?"
"Does that mean when we're alone or with other boys or daddies around us?"
"Exactly. Like when you told Bently I was your Daddy Shamus. You were safe with me."
"Yes, I really love calling you Daddy Shamus. I was so happy you walked in when you did."
"I heard you shouting. That's why I stormed in there. Do you want to tell me what kind of daddy you want, or do you want to hear what kind of daddy I am first? But remember, I can alter things if you are uncomfortable with anything."
"Tell me what kind of daddy you are first."
"Basically, I was a Daddy Dom. I don't know if you understand what that is. Don't let the Dom part scare you. There are no collars, whips, or chains."
"Bently was a Daddy Dom."
"Did he collar you?" Shamus wondered what Bently had done with Miguel. The boy needs nurturing, not pain. "Did he use whips and chains?"
"No, he gave me a bracelet to wear all the time, but he'd never use a whip or chains. He just made strict rules and took care of everything. He was more of a spanking sugar daddy."
"Spanking for what?" Shamus didn't like the idea of competing with yet another sugar daddy after Timmy had left him to find one.
"Not just for punishment. Mostly for fun stuff. He bought lots of sex toys."
Shamus grew excited over the thought of playing with sex toys. His curiosity was piqued about what kind Miguel preferred. He planned to take Miguel to a sex shop in Toms River and let him choose the items himself. He'd exercise restraint and not administer a spanking until Miguel healed or asked. The poor boy had had enough pain from the merciless assault he'd endured.
"Can I ask you if you still have any feelings for Bently?"
"When he left, I was upset for a couple of months, then I got over it. I studied and read to forget. Then I met you and everything changed for me."
"I met you on one of my worst nights when I was at the bottom. Then I saw you in the lobby and felt something for you even before we met. Everything changed for me, too."
Their server removed their plates and asked if they wanted dessert. They shared a rich slice of chocolate cake topped with whipped cream and a cherry and accompanied by a generous scoop of creamy ice cream.
"I'm the top dog and make the rules and consequences, which we will agree on. My primary role is to provide you with love, comfort, protection, and guidance. I have the final say after we have a long talk. There is discipline if you break the rules. As far as sex goes, I top. If you want to try some new things, I'm open to it. You would just talk to me about it. Tell me what you think of what kind of daddy I am. Is there something you don't want?"
"I like the kind of daddy you are."
"Tell me what kind of boy you are."
"I want to always show you how thankful I am for your love, protection, and direction. Trust me, I need to learn a lot about personal safety. I want to please you in every way you need or want. And I want a daddy who likes to cuddle and have tons of sex."
Shamus kissed the back of Miguel's hand. "I'm going to create a safe space where you can feel comfortable expressing your needs and desires in and out of the bedroom."
"Where will our safe space be?"
"Right now, we live separately, so we'll use my kitchen and your table and chairs. We'll sit and talk in those two safe spaces. We can talk about anything without worrying. The only stipulation is to be honest. Can you agree with that?"
"I can. No problem."
"In your safe space, you can say something is upsetting you and you're not ready to talk about it. I can cuddle you and make love to you in the bedroom. Whatever you need to feel better. And when you feel strong enough, you can tell me what is wrong."
"I like that, Daddy Shamus."
"We'll discuss rules and consequences together in the hotel room. Let's enjoy our cake and ice cream." Shamus carefully fed Miguel a delectable piece of cake complemented with a creamy scoop of ice cream.
After they finished the meal, which they both thoroughly enjoyed, Shamus paid the bill, and they made their way to the hotel room. He wanted to show Miguel he cared about him by wrapping his arms around him and whispering words of encouragement in his ear when they were alone. Shamus would endure the trials of this current emotional turmoil, side by side with Miguel. Shamus had plans to show Miguel how to work on closure, fully aware of the potential risks. There was a slight possibility that Miguel would return to Bently.