“What kind did his daddy get him?”
“Duckies. He really likes duckies but this time instead of yellow or blue, they are green.” Hudson did wear a lot of duckies.
“That sounds nice.” I helped him out of his pants and boxer-briefs and got out the outfit he’d picked out. It was kitty-palooza. Kitty onesie, kitty shorts, knee socks. Even the shoes had light-up cat faces on them. So freaking cute, I could hardly stand it. As I dressed him, he sank all the way into little space, leaning onme while I put his feet, one after the other, into the thick training pants then the shorts. They reminded me so totally of the kitties who first brought us together. It had taken a long time, but I’d finally met the cats across the hall and given their owner a kitty gift basket. He didn’t understand why I was grateful, and since we didn’t know one another really at all, I didn’t get into it. By now, he’d seen his cat sitter coming and going and probably knew we were a couple, so I told him Ridge really liked his cats and I wanted to give them a little something special.
“Come on, Daddy. Our fwiends are waiting.”
I took his hand and checked him over, making sure he was all set. “Okay, my sweet boy. It’s friend time.”
They were all seated in our favorite conversation area, the daddies on the sofas and chairs, the littles on the floor pushing around a whole bunch of cars. Their “Beep beeps,” and “Vrooms,” drew mostly smiles from leather-clad doms on their way to the main floor where all the impact play and similar stations were set up. Most people thought that was all a club like Chained was about, but our lifestyle encompassed a whole lot more than that. There were puppy and kitten play people with their handlers, for example, and of course the littles and their caregivers. Most of the time, I didn’t even notice what went on, on the main floor, although our conversation area overlooked it.
And, tonight, there was another event in the little room. Little Artists, which was a big favorite among the boys and girls. As everyone got ready to head to the little room, August asked me, in a low voice, “Do you know how much glitter there will be?”
“I haven’t heard, but if it’s art, there’s bound to be some.”
He groaned. “We’ll be combing it out of their hair for a week.”
“Most likely.” I led Ridge along behind the others on our way to the room. They were quite an incongruous sight intheir onesies and tight little tees and light-up sneakers as they passed the St. Andrew’s cross and the other dungeon furniture. The little room was located down a hallway, but as soon as we entered it, the voices carried to us. Yes, it would be full tonight, and I hoped our littles could get time at the various tables they wanted. The first thing I saw when we entered was a giant tarp on the floor where several littles and their daddies were painting what looked to be some kind of a mural. But Ridge dragged me toward the watercolors that were set up on easels off to one side. He dropped my hand and allowed me to put an apron on him before turning him loose to express himself.
There were so many choices tonight, I never thought we’d make it through all of them, but I was fairly sure we had. Paint, big fat triangular crayons, clay… We wound up meeting our friends at the mystery storybook table where each little was assigned part of a story to draw and color in a page for a book being put together. When it was done, the volunteer running the activity put it together then all the littles in the room gathered around while she “read” them the story and they all got to see each other’s pages and how they were part of the story.
It was a huge hit with lots of animals sounds that required participation and a fantastic way to end the evening. We stopped in the changing room just long enough to put Ridge’s street clothes on over his playclothes, and he fell asleep in the car on the way to his apartment. I guided him up the stairs, undressed him, and put him to bed, crawling in beside him and wishing he was coming to my place instead.
It was safer and less likely to break out in bugs. But he’d have to be ready. I knew I was.
Chapter Seventeen
Ridge
I started slowing down on my cat sitting a couple of months into my relationship with Memphis. Spending three, four, or five days away from him just wasn’t something I was wanting to do. And my new schedule gave me the joy of picking my own jobs and working my own. I was doing more personal-assistant-type work, which I didn’t mind. Most of that was running errands and easy enough.
But when my very first clients whereas going to Europe for two weeks and wanted me to house and cat sit, I didn’t feel like I could decline. If it was just cats, it wouldn’t have been that bad—they could be home alone all day. But their dog was older now and needed me there at least once in the middle of the day and on through the night.
For two weeks, I didn’t sleep in Daddy’s arms once. We saw each other for some lunches, but not much else because the house was on the other side of the universe from Daddy’s place. Fine, it was only on the other end of the city, but it might as well have been across the universe, given how much that distance messed with our ability to get together during the week. We made do with video chatting, and Daddy came down on the weekends so we could have a short date local to my job, but in a lot of ways, it felt like I hadn’t seen him in forever.
When the clients returned, and I was officially free of pet duty, I went directly to Memphis’ place, needing to see him and unwilling to wait until morning. Their flight had been late, and instead of dinnertime, they arrived closer to ten, which had me arriving at Daddy’s after eleven. I hugged him tightly and then dragged him to bed, where I slept and slept and slept. I hadn’trealized how poorly I’d been resting until that amazing night’s sleep.
I woke up the next morning just before noon and walked out of the bedroom, surprised to discover I wasn’t alone. I had assumed Daddy would be gone to his office, but he was sitting on his sofa tapping on his laptop.
“I didn’t know you were home today. Why didn’t you wake me up?” I kissed his cheek and stayed standing, not wanting to get in the way of his work.
He shut the laptop and set it on the coffee table. “I decided to work remotely so you would sleep in.” He opened his arms, and I climbed onto his lap. “I didn’t like not having you here.” He kissed the top of my head.
“I didn’t like not being here,” I said. “I don’t sleep well when I’m not with you.”
“You know there’s a solution, right?”
“Solution to what?” I wasn’t awake enough to trust that I understood what he meant.
“To not sleeping well.”
“What’s that?” I bit back a yawn.
“Move in here with me.”
I wanted to squeeand tell him yes a thousand times, punctuating each agreement with a kiss. I refrained. This not a step to be taken spontaneously. I was emotionally ready for it, but physically? Not so much.
“We need to talk about bills,” I said. “I’m not sure I can afford this place.” Which was a lie. I was 100 percent sure I couldn’t afford this place.
