Page 6 of First Class Feelings

When we reach my floor, his jaw drops. “There are only two doors.”

I raise my keycard with a grin. “That’s true. Mine is this way.”

The door opens easily, then we’re inside the wide space of the suite, which truly could be called a penthouse for its size. I can’t believe there’s a level above this.

“Wow!”

I turn to find Foster skipping over to the floor to ceiling windows that line one side of the room. He’s taking in the view with his whole body pressed against the glass.

Visions of him in that same position while completely naked fill my mind. I wonder if and when I can make that happen.

It won’t be right this minute. That much I’m certain of.

My boy needs more time to realize… well, that he’smine.

Somewhere between covering him with a blanket and getting him checked into the resort, the Daddy part of me decided we have to keep him. Whatever the means, we must make sure Foster spends his vacation with me, so he understands how well we fit.

“DD! Come look! Kites!”

His excited squeal pulls me away from my planning. I leave the bags by the door as I move to stand beside him.

“Kites?” I ask softly, my voice low enough to encourage him to stay in his Little mindset.

He nods, then points to figures in the distance.

“Wow! They are kites. Good job, Foster.”

I’m met with an adorable pout. He shakes his head, then points to his chest. “Me no Foster.”

It’s a fight to hold back my grin. “You’re not Foster? Huh? That’d odd. You look a lot like him. If you’re not Foster, then who are you?”

“Little One! ‘Member, DD?”

As his bottom lip trembles, I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. My sweet boy doesn’t like teasing. He needs reassurance.

Pulling him into my arms, I hum a soft tune while I sway us side to side.

“Shhh, little one. DD is sorry for his mess up. Sometimes I’m a booty head who can’t take a hint. Will you forgive me?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he burrows into my chest, taking full advantage of our connection.

I can’t complain. I’m loving every second of it.

When he finally pulls back, it’s with a careful smile. “Forgive DD. Ice cream?”

This time, I don’t hold back my laughter or my happy expression. “Ice cream, huh? Sounds like you’re feeling better now if you want to have something so sweet. Isn’t it a bit early?”

“No way! Ice cream always good.” His voice is as serious as can be when he says it.

With a nod, I pull him away from the window and over to the couch. Once he’s in place, I hunt for the room service information. Surely there’s some type of menu around here for me to access. If not, then I’ll call them to get one sent up.

My boy needs ice cream, and he needs it now.

What kind of Daddy would I be, temporary or otherwise, if I didn’t get it for him?

He deserves it after my screw up earlier.

The menu winds up being in a nearly invisible drawer in the coffee table. When I open it, I notice they have a million options, though none for plain ice cream.

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