Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Jett

I can't believe this is my life right now. It feels more like a dream.

Because this is pretty much exactly how they've begun—with some amazing man stealing me away to do some of my favorite things. Granted, this activity wasn't always something I pictured because it felt too far-fetched.

Even so, I'm overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions over the fact that Micah, a man I barely know, wants to spend time with me so much, he coordinated an entire train route for us. It's more effort than anyone else has ever put forth.

When the crying finally stops, I pull back, an apology on my lips. I don't get to say it though, because the sight before me is too… everything.

Micah is on his knees, his smile wide as he watches me. I feel his hands touching me, though I'm too disoriented to really place where they are. I think one is on my face.

And now his lips are moving. They're moving, but I can't understand his words.

It's as if my brain has gone completely offline.

"Sweet boy," he calls out, his face close to mine. I suck in a breath as reality slams into me all at once. "There you are."

"I'm here. What—I'm sorry—it's just…" my voice trails off as I try to sort through what the hell I want to say first to this man. He doesn't need to think he's going to spend the trip with a crybaby or else he'll be trying to get off at the first stop.

"Shhh. There's no need to try to explain yourself. I get how all this could be a bit much at first. It's why I wanted to talk at the start of everything. I have a feeling you haven't been able to let go like that in a while, if ever. Am I right?"

I nod. "I don't cry much."

In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had. It'd been years, if I were to take a guess.

As if he could read my thoughts, Micah moves closer, an understanding look in his eyes. "There is nothing wrong with expressing our emotions. It's good for us. If you don't mind, I'd like to be vulnerable with you now too."

My nod is instant. I want that. I want to hear everything I can about him.

I'm not sure why I'm drawn to him or what's connecting us on this level since we're practically strangers, but I'm not going to turn him away. Not when he's already given me so much.

"What all do you know about BDSM?"

Huh? My brain short-circuits at the acronym.

"I know some things," I hedge, unsure where he's going with this.

Micah squints at me, likely suspicious since I'm not the best liar. "I think you know more than you want to let on. That's fine, for now. Once I explain my thoughts, maybe then you'll see I mean no harm, nor will I ever make fun of you for what you want."

He runs his fingers down my jaw, his smile softening as I tilt my head into the touch. I can't help myself though. He feels really good.

I don't generally let people get this close. Affection, sex, and all that yucky stuff in between has never been high on my priority list. Yet, here on this train, with this man, I find myself curious for the first time.

Like, truly curious. Not just the analytical part of me wanting to dissect things.

"BDSM contains many different areas of the kink community. While I'm not into the darker spectrum of the lifestyle that some people consider BDSM to include, I do prefer kink in my relationships."

He clears his throat.

"It's been a long time since I've been active in any type of kink. Years, really. I've been too busy building up my business to focus on finding a boy of my own to play with." His eyes lock with mine as he says, "I'm a Daddy, Jett. I'd like you to be my boy, if you'll allow it, during this trip. And if it goes well, then maybe after the trip, we could see how it fits in our regular lives too."

My mouth drops open as every piece of the puzzle clicks into place. His mention of Bellamy and Aries, of Finn and Raymond, his desire for me to slow down with the milk, this elaborate gift, his holding me, the way he looks at me like I'm precious.

Oh my god!

He's a Daddy.

"You're a Daddy."

Micah shivers as I use the word. He nods, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I am. Do you have any questions for me as to what that means? I'd be more than happy to explain anything you want."

"Sex," I blurt out. "What do you… is it mandatory?"

He frowns. "Mandatory? No, it's not. Sex is never mandatory in a relationship. Both parties should be consenting adults. Enthusiastic consenting adults, actually. Anything less is unacceptable."

Sighing, I nod along. "I agree. It's just—well, I don't usually feel sexual attraction to anyone. I'm not a virgin or anything. I got over that ages ago. Other than a couple of bumbling attempts to see what the excitement over sex was, I haven't had any desire to do it again."

I watch as his expressions shift drastically in a few quick seconds. There's no way for me to decipher them all. It would take me hours with how my brain overanalyzes things.

"You should never be made to feel like you have to sleep with someone, sweet boy. And if this never goes beyond me taking care of you, I'd be fine. I'd merely ask you to ignore my body's reaction since it would take longer for it to get with the program."

"Your body?" Instinctively, I know what he means. Still, I question it to clarify I'm not reading between lines that aren't even there.

He shakes his head. "Ignore me. Back to that later. For now, I want you to know that we'd never have to do anything more than cuddle if you want. Kind of how I just held you while you were upset. If you ever wanted more, you would simply tell me. If you never want anything more, then we'd move along as we were."

"And you'd be fine with this? To never have more?"

It doesn't make any sense. Every man I've ever spoken with about dating either via apps or in person has made it clear sex is what they want. And most, if not all, assumed I'd be the top in the relationship.

While I've tried to do so in the past, I couldn't see myself taking on that role if I ever wanted to move to the level of intercourse with someone again. Not even with a Daddy.

Sure, I've thought of having a Daddy often. One step into my spare bedroom is proof of it. But I never considered someone like Micah would be who would tempt me into the idea. Or rather, who would have me eager to accept an offer.

"If you're sure, then yes. I'd like to see what it would be like. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course!" He moves closer to me, his brows wiggling as he smiles brightly.

I laugh, then lean until my mouth is near his ear. "I always thought my first train ride would be with my Daddy. I just never had the nerve to find one."

Micah doesn't give a reaction at first. The expression on his face when he pulls back is unreadable.

His hands move to my face, his palms holding me still as he looks me in the eye. "I'm honored to be the man who gets to fill the role you've dreamed of. I promise to do my best to make this the best first train ride of your life."

I groan when I feel the tears return. Micah shakes his head, then leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead. I freeze at the move, a wave of emotion flooding me.

No one besides my mother has ever shown me gentle care like this. It's as if the man before me considers me some delicate thing he needs to treat with care.

The thought is laughable. I'm a massive defensive tackle on a professional football team.

Yet here, in this train car with this man, I feel small. Tiny and beautiful. Like I'm worth the wait, however long it might take.

"I would like to go over one more thing with you before we commit to this fully," he says while I'm lost in my thoughts. "Consent is a huge part of our dynamic. If you ever feel like something is too much for you, I need to know you're going to tell me to stop. Typically, the word stop isn't always easy to get out, therefore a safe word is necessary. Do you have a particular word you would like to use to signal when you need to halt things?"

Closing my eyes, I run through a number of ideas. There is more than one that could do the trick, though each seems more foolish than the one before it. I don't want to come across as ridiculous, nor do I want to use a word I'll forget.

"Molasses," I eventually reply.

His lips twitch, as if he wants to laugh. "Molasses? May I ask why such a distinct food?"

"I don't like it, and it's super slow. If I wanted us to press pause, then I'd want to use the name of something similar to what I was hoping for."

"Very well. I'm not going to dissuade you from using it. So long as you remember it when the time comes, I'm fine with your choice. If at any point you no longer want to be somewhere, or if something I do makes you uncomfortable, then all you have to do is say the word, and we'll pivot. I promise I won't be angry."

"Ok. And what about you? What is your safe word?"

He jolts at my question. "My safe word?"

"Well, yeah. What if you get uncomfortable? You should be able to speak up too."

Is this not how it's done? I'm not familiar enough with the BDSM community to know. Micah's expression tells me I'm surprising him again.

"Since you made such a wonderful case for molasses, I think I should use the same word. Plus, it will be easier for us both. If we hear the word, then we'll both freeze to figure out what went sideways. Deal?"

"Deal. I only have one more question."

He chuckles softly as his fingers play with mine. "Sure thing, sweet boy. What do you want to know?"

"When and where do I call you Daddy? I don't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable. And since everyone needs to be consenting, I'm not sure of how it should work in public."

"Thank you for asking. It's important to clarify things," he says as he squeezes my hand. "I don't want you or anyone else to be uncomfortable. Anytime you want to say Daddy, you can squeeze my hand tight if we're in public. When we're here in our room, you're welcome to use the title as much as you please."

"Really, Daddy?" I ask to see how it feels.

Perfect.

It feels perfect.

"Yes, sweet boy. For as long as you'll allow me, I'll be your Daddy, even if you can't say the words aloud."