Page 15 of Chance's Choice
“Chance, please…I do need this. I need this from you.”
Even though I don’t have the right to ask for it, I can’t let the idea go now.
“Then what?” He prompts, looking me in the eye. “What happens after? Do you want us to go our separate ways?” My stomach clenches at the thought and I’m shaking my head vehemently. His expression softens. “Good,” he says, “me neither. So, aside from absolution -which you’ve already earned verbally, I’ll remind you- what do you want from me? Casual hookups? A relationship? Friendship? Though, I gotta say, I don’t let any of my other friends snuggle in my lap like this.”
I snort. “I’m glad to hear that. I wouldn’t wanna get jealous.”
I squeal when he pinches my ass. “Stop deflecting.”
“I’ve never had a relationship,” I remind him softly, looking away. “But, if I was going to try that with anyone, I’d want that to be you.” If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always wanted it to be him. I was too cowardly to say anything as a teenager, and then I fucked things up. Then I didn’t want to be in a relationship at all, because if I couldn’t have Chance, I didn’t want anyone.
That’s probably a sad realization to have after twenty years, right? Pining after someone for that long isn’t healthy, and I know it. Maybe if we’d drifted apart under more normal circumstances, things might have been different. Who knows? All I know is that I’m starting to feel alive and more like my actual self for the first time in a very long time, and that’s from being in his proximity again. From talking to him again.
He said he thought that he loved me when we were kids. Well, I’m pretty sure I reciprocated those feelings.
God, I was an idiot.
“That’s not a direct answer,” Chance tells me softly, and I rein my thoughts back in again. He’s once again turning my face towards his, looking me in the eye, refusing to let me hide from him. “Do you want a relationship with me? Do you want me to be your Daddy? Because, I’ll be honest here, Kade, Idowant to be a Daddy with a Little as part of my relationship. It’s something I look for in a partner. It doesn’t have to be a 24/7 thing, but…yeah.”
This entire night has been a whirlwind, full of unexpected events that I just can’t wrap my head around. If I’d never gone to that auction, if I’d never perused the photos of Daddies volunteering their time, if I’d never given in to my gut instinct to bid on him and apologize, I’d be sitting here alone in my apartment, miserable and still punishing myself. Instead, tonight’s happenings have led me to this moment, straddling Chance’s lap while he asks me a question I wish he’d asked me twenty years ago, not that either of us evenknewabout age play back then.
My throat is tight when I answer, “Yes. Yes, I want all of that. With you.”
“Me too, baby,” he says, then brings our lips together again for a sweet kiss.
Our mouths move together slowly, almost carefully. I melt into Chance’s embrace and let him set the pace. The fire and urgency from our previous kiss is nowhere to be seen. Instead, this kiss feels intense in a different way. It’s laden with emotions I’m too scared to name, with lament of time lost, and also joy for a potential future together. It’s the reclamation of an old friendship, but a promise to take that original foundation and turn it into something even more special. It’s perfect and sweet, but still kind of poignant and overwhelming.
It’s not until Chance pulls back and brushes his thumbs over my cheekbones that I realize I’ve been crying.
“Too much? Too fast?” Chance asks, his voice low and calming.
I shake my head. “No. I just can’t believe this is happening. That you’re here with me. That you’re kissing me.”
“Mmm,” he agrees, his lips quirking beneath his scruff, “I know the feeling. Eighteen-year-old me would be doing a happy dance right about now.”
I’m reminded again of my past mistakes and I swallow roughly. His earlier promise bounces around my head and I know that I need his punishment before I can truly move forward with him. “I need you to spank me, Daddy,” I tell him with all the earnestness I can muster. “Please? Tonight. Now.”
His whiskey-colored eyes soften and he presses his forehead to mine. “I’m not going to do it again for the past stuff, Kade. Once it’s done, it’sdone. Understood?”
I nod, not trusting my voice. I can almost taste the closure. For real this time. That thought alone is making me more emotional than I’ve ever been. I’ve held on to the hurt and guilt from the past for so long that it’s become a part of me. But I’m finally ready to let go of that if it means a future with Chance might be on the cards after all, however hard that is to believe.
“Where do you want to do it?” he asks me when I don’t say anything further. “In here? In the living room?”
“My room,” I manage to croak out. “I’ve never done this at home before, but…I like to be held afterwards. And,” I swallow, “it’s late. I…I mean…could you stay with me? Just to hold me? We don’t have to rush into anything else. I just…I just don’t want to let you go tonight.” Especially not once he’s spanked me.
Chance doesn’t have a change of clothes, but tomorrow is a Saturday and we can deal with everything else then.
His lips brush my forehead, the hair of his beard tickling my skin in the most comforting way. “Of course, baby.” After another kiss, he says, “Lead the way.”
With reluctance, I climb off his lap and he takes my hand in his. I smile a little at that, then guide him back out the door of the guest room and down the short hallway in the other direction, into the master suite of the apartment.
This room is larger, with a black leather armchair in the corner by the window which looks out over the rest of the city. It’s one of the benefits to my corner apartment. The window here is tinted, so I can see out but nobody can see in. I still draw the curtains at night, though, because I hate the sun waking me up.
My bed is king sized and pressed against the middle of the wall on the left side of the room, the headboard padded white leather and the comforter also crisp and white. A few black throw pillows and a black throw blanket tie the space together, but it’s just as sterile and lifeless as the rest of my apartment.
Chance doesn’t say anything about my minimalist decorating, though. Instead he walks over to the bed with me and lets go of my hand as he sits himself on the edge of the mattress. He makes quite the picture like this, in his suit pants and rumbled dress shirt, the collar unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“Pants off, Kade,” he instructs when I fail to move, and I fumble with my belt with trembling hands. After taking a couple of calming breaths to get myself under control, I manage to slip the leather from my pant loops, and it’s not long before I’m stepping out of my pants entirely, pulling off my socks next. I’m left in my shirt and briefs, and, at Chance’s raised eyebrow, I tug my underwear down my legs, too.
