3. Calvin

Chapter three

Calvin

O h God, Oh God, Oh God , my brain chanted. But pressed this close to Dream Daddy, my body was ignoring my brain and having a party all of its own. In fact, I was ready to do the Dirty Macarena right here in the airport, completely naked . My dick was very happy to meet our Officer of the Day and was standing at attention all on its own.

After a moment, sanity prevailed, and I relaxed my arms, preparing to let go, but he turned his head into my neck and whispered. "Enemy inbound." His arms clamped tighter, and he straightened. The floor was suddenly much farther away, but happily, his lips were a lot closer as they slammed down onto mine.

I might have made some sort of noise, but it was swallowed, any remnants of sound thoroughly chased out by his tongue. I had a brief thought that being devoured so completely in the middle of an airport was taking this mission a little too far. He hummed in the back of his throat and he tasted clean and minty; clearly I'd died and gone to heaven.

And I kissed the hell out of him right back as he did the bending backward melt-my-panties move.

No one could ever accuse me of being inflexible. In fact, one of my favorite films was Billy Elliot. My flexibility came from a sense of self-preservation, needing to be able to crawl and hide in tight spaces, but I was also quite sure I would have rocked a tutu.

Then I realized with shock I would never have been brave enough to even contemplate wearing something like that. That was Ricky, not me, and what was I doing ? Daddy must have realized my change in enthusiasm because he drew back a little, gave me a final peck, and lowered me to the floor. It was a good thing he kept hold because my knees weren't interested in holding the rest of me upright, and I doubted they would recover anytime soon. I saw him glance to the side, then step back. He still held my arm. "They're still watching, but I think we put on a convincing show." It was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on me. I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out.

"My apologies, but I gathered that was your ex and his latest?" He didn't wait for my reply, if I could have even gotten my brain to command my mouth to work. "I think we should go through security," he murmured and took my carry-on from me after a firm look when I was reluctant to let it go. He then steered me forward as though he assumed I couldn't read the signs.

It was nice, though, and the jury was still out about reading instructions.

And he didn't stop there. Once in the lounge, he settled me comfortably, then asked me what I wanted to drink. "A-alcohol," I stammered, and he sent me an amused look and left to go to the bar.

I was trying to steady my breathing—actually no, I was giving a good impression of being a Lamaze instructor—when a pair of brown leather loafers stopped right in front of me. Ones I recognized because I'd bought the outrageously expensive pair for Steven last Christmas, four days before he dumped me. It was a good thing he'd packed everything before I'd gotten home from work, or I would have taken a knife to them. Come to think of it, that was probably why his things were already in his trunk.

"Calvin? How've you been?"

I let my eyes travel up the body I'd once worshipped and funnily enough, after just becoming intimately acquainted with the honed military upgrade, Mr. Insurance Salesman of the Year just didn't cut it. "I'm great," I enthused. "I can't wait to get there. Ricky's been telling me all the outrageous things they have planned."

Steven narrowed his eyes. "Planned?"

I heard a chuckle and Dream Daddy put down a drink that looked like it had exploded with sugar and juice and umbrellas and fancy straws. "I got you a Pi?a Colada, baby-boy," Daddy said in his bestest ever deep Daddy voice that I felt right to my toes, and it didn't skip other places on the way either. He pushed right past Steven and sat really, really close with his arm around me and muttered loud enough for Steven to hear. "Thought we'd try the Screaming Orgasm when we get to the hotel."

I managed to hold it in until Steven and his boyfriend or whatever had turned and left in apparent disgust, then I snorted and spluttered into my hand until Daddy passed me an ironed white handkerchief. I stared at it in utter wonder. "I can't use this," I said and used the paper one from under my drink.

"Why? That's what it's for."

"Because," I waved my hand. I was going to mentally say dramatically but opted for theatrically this time. It sounded better. More professional. Grown-up.

"But isn't that the point?"

I glanced at Daddy, knowing I was past fucked when I was calling him Daddy in my head without even thinking about it now. "What is?"

"That you aren't grown-up in this scenario? Unless you're not comfortable to let your Little peek out when you're in a public place."

And I died . Right there. I didn't even care that my internal voice had clearly malfunctioned, but he'd said little and used the words peek out . I grabbed my drink and took a very healthy sip, but he took it from me when it looked like I was about to drain it. "I'd like you awake on the plane," Daddy said dryly. "We need to get to know each other."

"Ask me anything," I gasped, my head swimming a little, but I doubted it was because of the alcohol.

"Okay, what's your favorite stuffy, and what's his name?"

Yep, dead .

"You have to wake up now, Calvin." I could hear the voice, but didn't really think it applied to me. "We both have to fasten our seatbelts."

My eyes shot open, and I sat up, then flushed crimson when I realized I'd been lying on Daddy's lap on the airplane. "I'm sorry." And Daddy chuckled.

"No problem. I just need to remember you're a lightweight when it comes to alcohol."

I really was and because the seatbelt light hadn't come on yet, I scrambled up and rushed to pee. The light came on as I returned, but Daddy had already stood in the aisle to let me get back in. I remembered him asking me if I wanted to sit next to the window and I might have squealed a little too loudly. Maybe that had been his first clue about the alcohol. Or maybe it was just me. I'd only ever flown once in my life when Ricky sent me the airfare as a Christmas present and that hadn't been nearly as good.

When we arrived, I wilted a little in the heat when we got into the car that seemed to magically appear, complete with uniformed driver at St. Pete/Clearwater Airport. Not that Christopher hadn't sent his brother a car as well, but they had another couple in theirs, and we got one all to ourselves.

I had a random urge to poke my tongue out at him as I climbed in but caught the look Daddy sent me, which made me behave. I'd seen Steven keep shooting me puzzled glances when his boyfriend wasn't looking, and I could imagine Steven was completely stunned to see me with someone. He told me that if I didn't "grow-up" no one would ever be interested in dating me. I sat and obediently chugged the bottle of water Daddy, no Saul , had gotten me and instructed me very firmly to finish. I was in danger of buying into the whole Dream Daddy thing if I was already calling him Daddy in my head.

I looked out the window as the car drove over the causeway and at the sparkling water at each side and dreamed this was my life. It wasn't, though, and I forced myself to remember my leaky apartment. "So, this is like an audition for you?" I said, thinking about why he was here.

"For the post of your Daddy?" he teased.

But it had the opposite effect on me. "You can stop pretending, Saul, when it's just us. But you were really convincing in the airport. Thank you for that," I added quietly, in case he thought I was ungrateful.

He was silent for a moment and even though I was deliberately looking out the window, I could feel his eyes on me. "All part of the job," he said lightly. "But I'd stay in character if I were you and at least call me Daddy."

I turned, trying to decide if he was mocking me, but there was an expression on his face I couldn't decipher, which was strange for me. Growing up as I had, I was pretty good at reading people and if I was honest, Steven hadn't been a surprise. Every time he'd asked me to tone down my little behavior, I'd just buried my head in the sand. When we'd met he'd been really possessive and attentive, and it fit in with all my Daddy fantasies, but then his possessiveness just turned into him being more of a dictator. I suppose it was desperation that made me stay. I was so desperate for someone to keep me that I'd tried to squeeze myself into a box that didn't fit to make that happen. I just had to remember this was a one weekend only deal.

The car took us right to the marina and I gazed in confusion at the boat we drove up to. There seemed to be two boats and as we pulled up, the bigger of the two men on one of them turned to the other man he was talking to and pulled him in for an almost indecent kiss that had my jaw hanging open. "Why are we going on a boat?"

Daddy shot me a puzzled glance. "Rainbow Key's only accessible by boat." And I groaned. Ricky had told me all about the island just off the coast, but somehow, I hadn't put two and two together and come up with transportation. Poop and double poop with bells on.

"The one with all the tats is Matt," Daddy murmured. "He's in charge of all transportation on the island, as cars aren't allowed, and that's his boyfriend Ryder. He runs the other boat, and apparently they both do a lot of the yard work as well. It's a family-run operation."

"I can't," I said, staring at the boat in horror and shaking my head. I would drown. There might be a typhoon, or a shark. Florida had sharks. What if a really big one attacked the boat? And I was a bad swimmer. I never dared put my head under… I shook my head quite violently to rid it of the memory that was trying to creep in.

Eels. Weren't electric eels a thing? And they shot you with a bazillion volts before they drowned you? I could hear Ursula singing Poor Unfortunate Souls in my head.

Saul covered my hands with one of his. "If we're lucky, we might see dolphins."

Which made me pause. "Dolphins?" I squeaked out, knowing my little was really close to the surface and while he was scared of water, he really liked the idea of seeing dolphins. Holding on tightly to Daddy's hand, I let him lead me to the gangplank where Matt was waiting, not wearing a pirate costume much to my disappointment . I stared at him for probably too long, stunned by the sheer size of the man. I managed to keep it together while Daddy introduced us and said I was a little nervous of boats and asked where the best seat was.

Matt smiled and hunkered down in front of me. "How would you like to wear a special vest and sit in the Captain's chair?" My eyes must have grown impossibly wide because I was soon sitting on a big leather chair wearing a red life jacket and special hat and still clutching Daddy's hand as he assured Matt he could just stand at my side and guard against pirates.

I didn't look behind me once to see if Steven was on our boat because I was too busy trying to see dolphins. I kinda thought I might have at one point, but Matt was busy pointing out the different parts of the island as we motored past and drew up to what he called the dock. There were three golf carts all waiting to either take us up to the hotel if we couldn't walk or take all our suitcases. I recognized Joshua, one of the owners, from the brochure, and a woman with bright blue hair and a happy smile that seemed to be bossing two older teenagers about as they stood next to the golf carts.

The hotel was gorgeous and looked like something out of the Colonial South. I mean, I had my own Rhett Butler standing next to me, so it tracked. I thanked Matt for distracting me and he said he would keep a look out for dolphins and come and get us both if he spotted any. There was a welcome reception later but not for a few hours, so, yawning, even though I'd had a nap on the plane, I trudged after Daddy to check in.

And when I said after, I meant with his arm clamped around me. So, technically at his side. My first thought was yumm , but then I remembered I still wasn't Ricky, and I was sad.

A perky receptionist called Edward greeted us both effusively, and we passed over IDs and he scanned them. "And a credit card for the room, sirs?"

Which brought me up short. The room. Shit, I'd forgotten we would be sharing. I opened my wallet for my single emergency only credit card, but Daddy smoothly passed one over and shook his head slightly at me.

Well, okay then. He was just showing off, but it was probably going down as expenses, I thought waspishly.

"And you'll be thrilled to know you qualify for a free upgrade."

"An upgrade?" Daddy asked while in my head I was dancing to the thought of jacuzzi baths and patios.

"Yes, the honeymoon suite is of course booked for the happy couple, but we have a second executive suite that we are giving you since all the regular rooms will be full for the weekend, and I understand you, Mr. Jennings, are one of the groom's brothers."

Ricky. I swallowed the lump at his thoughtfulness and followed the bellhop, who refused to allow us to carry our own suitcases, which I was secretly glad of because mine had a dodgy wheel and didn't really fit with the upgraded executive suite vibe.

I'd cheered up by the time we got to the room and walked in after the bellhop opened the door for us with a large, old-fashioned key.

And stopped dead.

I took in the tray complete with two flute glasses, the ice bucket and champagne, and then my gaze landed on the bed. The admittedly large but still single bed, complete with confetti hearts sprinkled over the turned-down sheet, a single stemmed red rose lying on the pillow, and a few foil-wrapped chocolates. At least, I hoped they were chocolates. I wouldn't put it past Ricky to provide me with something else of the single, wrapped variety.

"Well, this is a surprise," Daddy said, after the bellhop had left with a generous tip. I nodded but couldn't seem to get my legs to move. Daddy reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, then casually stripped, flashing a well-muscled chest sprinkled with black and gray hairs that I wanted to run my fingers through. He carried on talking, but I'd stopped listening, especially when his shoes, socks, and pants followed.

"What do you want to do?"

My mind spun with all sorts of ideas. He was suddenly in front of me and, carefully, he put one finger under my chin and pressed until my mouth closed. I raised my gaze to his. If he laughed, I was on the next flight home, but the heat in his eyes told me a different story.

"Maybe we should start with the conversation we should have had on the plane?"

I nodded, but my gaze fell to his lips, and I remembered what they tasted like, and he groaned. "You tempt me, baby-boy."

Ooh rah, Daddy. Ooh fucking rah.