The city’s night hums around us as Travis and I step out of the cab and climb the steps to his apartment building. The cold air nips at my cheeks, but Travis’s presence beside me—steady, commanding—feels like a shield against the world.
My romper crinkles softly under my jacket, the fluffy diaper underneath a secret comfort that keeps me grounded. Bean is tucked in my backpack and I’m still buzzing from the playroom at The Sugar Spoon, Jack’s giggles and our half-planned prank lingering in my mind.
But the weight of the day—those shady files at Knox & Rain, the tracker in my waistband, Travis’s stern Daddy vibe—has me teetering on the edge of exhaustion.
Travis unlocks his apartment door, the steel swinging open to reveal the sparse, sleek space. The city’s glow filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood. He sets his keys on the counter, his eyes flicking to me, softer now but still with that edge that makes my heart skip.
“Movie night?” he asks, his voice low, almost gentle. “Pick something. I’ve got popcorn.”
I yawn, my hand flying to my mouth as I try to stifle it.
“I’m… kinda beat,” I admit, my voice small. “Work, the café, everything—it’s a lot. I just need to go to bed.”
Travis steps closer, his gaze searching mine, and I swear he can see right through me.
“Alright, Little,” Travis says, his tone firm but warm. “How about I run you a bath, read you a story, and tuck you in? You’ve had a big day.”
My cheeks flush, and a sweet smile spreads across my face before I can stop it.
A bath?
Story time?
It’s so… Daddy, so caring, and the thought of Travis taking charge like that makes my chest feel warm and fluttery.
“That sounds perfect,” I say, my voice soft, almost shy. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but right now, I don’t care. I just want to let go, to let him take care of me.
Travis nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and heads to the bathroom.
I follow, clutching Bean, my sneakers scuffing the floor.
The bathroom’s all clean lines and white tiles, a stark contrast to the cozy chaos of The Sugar Spoon.
Travis turns on the faucet, the sound of rushing water filling the space as steam curls upward. He tests the temperature, adding a capful of bubble bath that smells like lavender and vanilla, the kind of scent that makes my shoulders relax just breathing it in.
“Strip down to your diaper,” Travis says, his voice matter-of-fact but with that Daddy edge that makes me tingle. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
I blush, setting Bean on the counter and slipping off my romper, folding it neatly as my heart races. The fluffy diaper’s a softhug around my hips, and I feel exposed but safe under Travis’s steady gaze.
After quickly whisking my diaper off with an expert hand, Travis smiles.
“Bathtime, young man,” he smiles.
Travis helps me into the tub, the warm water enveloping me, bubbles popping against my skin.
I sink in, letting out a sigh, and Travis kneels beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves. His hands are gentle but sure as he washes me, a soft cloth gliding over my arms, my back, my legs.
It’s intimate, not sexual, but the care in his touch sends a shiver through me. I close my eyes, letting the warmth and his presence wash away the day’s stress—the suspicious files, the tracker, the lingering fear of that death threat.
“You did good today, baby boy,” Travis says, his voice low as he rinses my shoulders. “I know it wasn’t easy, going to work, looking for answers. I’m proud of you.”
My eyes sting, and I blink hard, not wanting to cry.
“Thanks,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the water.
I don’t know if I trust him completely, but right now, I feel seen, cared for, and it’s more than I’ve felt in a long time.
When the bath’s done, Travis wraps me in a fluffy towel, drying me off with the same gentle firmness. He helps me into fresh pajamas—a soft cotton set with little stars on it—and leads me to the guest room. The bed’s made up with clean sheets, and it looks so appealing and fresh.
