Page 32 of Just A Little Fling

Being jealous of his home or wondering about my own wouldn’t get the syrup put away. The pantry was as tidy as the rest of the house. Did Babbo hate that I left my clothes on the floor when we were together? Probably yes. I gave myself a firm warning to stop daydreaming and do what he’d asked me. That lasted half a second until I found his stash of board games.

He had the usual ones—Monopoly and Clue—but tucked into the back of the pile was my all-time favorite, Battleship. I dug it out and turned to the kitchen. Babbo had his back to me. The view was fantastic because his ass was so pinchable.

Babbo hadn’t mentioned sex at all. I desperately wanted to know where he stood with that because, clearly, I wouldn’t be getting it elsewhere.

“Hey, look what I found.” Babbo turned around, and a grin broke out.

“Battleship? The dishes can wait… Let’s have a war.” He tossed his towel on the counter, then backtracked to put it away properly. He was cute when he tried to be spontaneous.

“Just so you know… I’m pretty good at it.”

“Just soyouknow, so am I.”

With the boards set up on the kitchen table, we began the skirmishes. I won the first, and he won the second. The third round was going to crown the victor.

“All right, Sweet Boy, you need to name your prize if you win.”

Babbo’s easy grin was sexy. It was crooked and his eyes crinkled like he laughed a lot. His hair looked like it was on the verge of starting to gray, but I liked it. He wouldn’t look older with gray hair, just hot. I worked hard to concentrate on my board, but his lips were full, and when he was deep in thought, he tapped them with his finger.

“You,” I answered his question before I chickened out.

“Me?”

“Yep, I want hooking up back on the table. I know the renting from you thing is weird, but whatever.” Putting myself out there when my hair was done and I looked good was one thing. Doing it without my protective armor was scary as all get out, but I wanted Babbo.

“Sweet Boy, let’s enjoy the weekend, and we can talk about all that later.” He looked sincere. And sad. Oh god, did he not want me? “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Put that thought out of your head. Right now.”

“What thought?” I asked defensively. Waves of embarrassment washed over me. Ma said I was a pusher, and she was right. I’d never learned to leave well enough alone. I always needed one more inch out of people. Case in point, right here.

“That I don’t want you. I want you so fucking much it’s painful.”

“Please,” I scoffed. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have told me no. Again.” There was no hiding the whine in my voice, and I regretted agreeing to the weekend.

“Nope, I told you no because I need to work out some things for me.”

“What kind of things?” I asked suspiciously.

“Daddy things that aren’t for boys to worry about.”

“How long is it gonna take?”

“Hours? Days? Months?” At my dropped jaw, Babbo leaned forward and kissed me on the nose. “Back to this game. You already have me, so you’ll need to pick another prize if you win.”

I wanted a pick a good one, so I let myself think carefully. Babbo patiently waited for me to think over all my options.

“Okay, I got it. I get to pick the movies and dinner tonight.”

Babbo leaned back in his chair and thought about my claim. “Hmm, that’s fair. I accept your terms.”

“What if you win?”

“I get a veto on the movies, and you have to help me fix dinner.”

“Deal, Babbo.” And then I took it one more inch. “Seal it with a kiss?”

“Seal it with a kiss.”

It had been too darn long since I’d felt his lips on mine, and it was as good as I remembered. When he leaned forward, I met him halfway. It was sweet, and I liked it. It wasn’t like the kisses we’d shared at the hotel or during our hookups after, but that was all right because I liked it just as much. The pressure was enough to remind me he was a Daddy, and he tasted sweet like syrup.

---