Page 8 of Dear Daddy, Please Want Me

None of those reasons stopped Saul from envisioning all sorts of dirty things, though. As long as those filthy fantasies stayed in his head, it couldn’t hurt anyone, could it? He was determined not to actually do something, so he could allow himself to indulge for a moment. Just a moment.

When Levi had said “I’m all yours,” it had sounded like a promise. God, he could just imagine it. What would Levi be into?

Spankings? Bondage? A little edge of pain? A lot of pain? The list was potentially endless. He knew Levi was submissive, but since he wasn’t into anything unusual enough to become the go-to person for feedback, and he didn’t overshare like a few people Saul could name, that was all the info that he had.

Which was why this phone call was killing him.

What would Levi have done if he’d told him to take his hands off his cock? If he told him he’d been a bad boy for touching what wasn’t his to touch?

Would he have whimpered? Moaned? Said, “yes, Sir”? Begged?

Knowing Levi, he would probably do all of them. Saul could just envision him submitting to every command in one breath and then begging for more in the next.

With a groan, Saul turned back to his computer. He was the one who needed to keep his hands where they belonged.

On the keyboard.

Debugging this stupid error.

3

Levi

Levi had the whole freezing bike ride to work to realize how much of an idiot he’d been on the phone. The conversation was muddled in his head, but had he really been holding his dick while he talked to his boss?

Ugh. Super not cool.

He hoped that he hadn’t given anything away.

Sure, he fantasized about Saul sometimes. OK, maybe a lot. But that was never supposed to cross the boundary into reality.

There was just this way that Saul looked at him sometimes. It usually came at the end of meetings, when the team had figured out what they were going to do and Saul gave them a summary. The words were always something about timelines and modules, but the look was pure Dom. Like he was giving commands and expecting them to be followed. Like he would be so proud when Levi did as he was told.

It made Levi shiver every time.

And God, how pathetic was that? Levi was almost forty and getting his kicks from meeting summaries.

He wanted to be dating.

No, what he wanted was a Daddy. Not in an age play sense. But he wanted someone to take care of him and dote on him. To punish him sometimes when he needed it. To hold him and keep him safe.

He was increasingly thinking that he just wasn’t boy material, though. Half the Daddies took one look at him and weren’t interested. The other half played with him a few times and then weren’t interested.

There were a million reasons why. Too tall. Too plain. Too confident—yeah, that’s what one guy had told him.

He’d been around the kink community enough to know that there wasn’t any one body type for a boy—or a Daddy—but there were still trends. When he went to munches, the other subs tended to call him Sir until he set them straight. Everyone always accepted him as a sub as soon as he said it, but first impressions mattered.

When Levi walked into a room, people tended to pay attention. He stepped in and took control easily when it was necessary, smoothly filling in to facilitate when another leader wasn’t appointed. He was self-assured at work and usually unflappable under strain. There was a reason he was a project manager, and he was damn good at his work, both the programming and people side of it.

Apparently when subs were confident, or at least when he was, it turned into being pushy. He didn’t try to be pushy, though. In fact, he worked really hard not to be pushy.

The rest of the time he was kind of a goofball, which annoyed some Daddies, too. Apparently he couldn’t be serious at the right times, though he felt like he used it more as a shield. His jocularity had been finely honed by years of being the shrimpy Jewish kid who was always picked last for kickball. Until he’d turned fifteen and was suddenly the too-tall Jewish kid who only had one friend to eat with at lunch.

When he’d realized that he was gay, it certainly didn’t help his confidence any. He’d stared blankly when his friends talked about girls, then blushed at all the wrong times. College had been better, but he still thought of himself as that dweeby kid sometimes.

It was like his dating life and the rest of his existence were on two different planes.

Sometimes he couldn’t even explain to himself why he wanted a Daddy. He had his life put together: a job he loved, good friends, a nice apartment in Goose Hollow, and a solid plan for the future. He didn’t need a Daddy to take care of him.