his other hand. No, they weren’t dirty, but this was more about the routine than necessity.
“Let me see that moosh, Sammy,” I urged him. He gave me a goofy grin when our gazes met. He giggled and squirmed when I wiped his face. I bent down, kissing his forehead. “There, all clean. Now, do you want to go cuddle on the couch while we talk?”
“Can we have a fire?”
I rarely used the gas fireplace in the sitting room, but if my boy wanted one, we’d have one. “Absolutely.”
Sam’s hand slid into mine as soon as he hopped off the high chair at my dining table. I’d often thought about replacing it because it was cumbersome and an awkward height, but watching Sam swing his legs back and forth had been adorable. My heart had twisted a bit when I’d left him to get our lunch and saw how innocent he looked.
In the past, I’d been with boys who I met through friends or at the club and we’d never sat down to talk about limits, preferences, and everything like that. The conversations still happened, of course, but it wasn’t anything formal. It hadn’t needed to be because things had been casual. A scene here, a limited-time arrangement there, and no one had any expectations that it would turn into something more. But with Sam, everything was different. He didn’t strike me as the type to do casual, and my inner Daddy had no desire to be something casual in his life. Once he gave me the green light, I fully expected things between us to progress rapidly. That was a fact that both excited and terrified me.
I settled into the corner of the couch and pulled Sammy into my lap. He came easily, wiggling around until his legs were stretched out on the cushions beside us. His arms were wrapped around my neck, his cheek pressed to the side of my head. “I like this. I could go my entire life without having sex, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to cuddle with someone who wasn’t just a friend.”
I rubbed slow circles over Sam’s back, giving him time to gather his thoughts. As closed off as he was most of the time, I didn’t want to do anything to threaten the thoughts he felt comfortable sharing.
“I know you probably think I’m a basket case,” he continued. That was something we would be addressing in the very near future. Yes, there was obviously something in Sam’s past that had traumatized him, but that didn’t mean I thought any less of him. The exact opposite was true. Sam was one of the strongest, bravest men I knew. No matter what happened between us in the future, I would never forget the way he stared through me as he readied himself to come out to me. And, fuck, I hated that that was something he felt he needed to do. Yes, it was something we would have obviously had to deal with because no one wanted an unexpected surprise as part of foreplay, but he’d been prepared for me to walk away, and that was pretty fucked.
“No, sweetheart. I think you’re scared because this is something new for you.” I hoped it would ease his mind to hear my thoughts. “But you’re not the only one who’s scared. This is new for me, too. And no matter how much I want to believe you being trans doesn’t matter, I’m fully aware there will be moments we have to work through. And we will. Together. I’m scared, too, Sam. If I ever did or said something to make you feel any less than the amazing man you are, I’d never forgive myself.”
“I know.” Sam pressed his palm to my cheek. “That’s part of why I don’t feel unsafe talking to you here. It’s better this way, but there aren’t many men I could trust enough to be alone in private with.”
“But how do you know?” As much as I’d love to believe he was trusting his gut, I’d learned just enough about Sam to know that would never happen. He was careful, calculated, and cautious of everyone around him.
He squirmed on my lap, tightening his arms around my neck. Oh, this was going to be good. He was obviously embarrassed. I slid my hand to his hip, sliding my thumb under the hem of his t-shirt. “Tell me, sweetheart. How did you know I was safe? Have you been checking up