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I giggled as I set my phone on the side of my tub, certain he’d need to stew on it a bit. So when the chime sounded that he’d messaged back mere seconds later, I jumped, sloshing a bit of water over the side of the tub in my hurry to look at the screen.

Mr is just a good way to describe me. I’m a guy. And obviously into guys, considering the fun we just had.

I laughed aloud to my empty bathroom, hearing it echo against the tiles despite my best attempts to soften the room with fluffy towels and cozy floor mats. And Fox?

He sent a gif of someone biting their lip, and I straightened just a little in the tub. This was gonna be good. I’m somewhat of a . . . well, maybe, a silver fox?

I could almost hear him cringing from here, but he didn’t need to. Silver foxes were one-thousand-percent my type. Holy hell, Cameron was right. Was it possible this guy was just as hot in real life as I’d imagined him to be?

Another text came in. My friend, Jack, tells me I am, anyway. I’m not even sure I fully understand what a silver fox is, but according to him, that’s me. You would probably know better.

Well, that was an opening. You’ve come to the right place. I added a gif of that guy from my favorite makeover show twirling his mustache like the evil genius he was. Then I kept going. Since I’m guessing we’ll skip pics for now, I’ll describe a silver fox Daddy, and you can see if the description matches, okay?

Sure, boy. Describe away.

I grinned at the way he talked. I adored it. Silver foxes most notably have gray hair, either in full or graying on the sides.

Check.

Either option sounded sexy. They’re usually tall and well-built, but that’s not a requirement.

The three dots had my stomach tumbling in anticipation, and his next message had my dick fighting to reconstitute even after all that. Check and check. What else ya got?

I sat up in the tub at that, my hole twinging. I ignored it. It was on. Well, we already know you’re a Daddy. From what I’ve seen, you definitely command a room. You give orders well, you’re caring, and you have the sexiest sadistic streak—it’s slight, but it’s there—that can set boys on fire.

You’re right on all counts, boy. Anything else?

The last piece is confidence, swagger. How you carry yourself. But of course I’m not going to be able to figure that out over text.

Then I guess we’ll save that for when we know each other a little better.

I stared at my phone, gulping down air. When we knew each other a little better? Was MrFox43 actually suggesting we could keep this going?

I forgot to respond as I frowned into space, barely seeing the plush tan bath towel hanging above the tub my eyes were fixed on. I’d just been thinking about how lonely I was, and then the universe brought a full-on conversation with MrFox into my DMs. I couldn’t overlook the coincidental timing. I had to jump on this. And hopefully, soon, on him. But could I?

You there, baby?

I blinked out of my musings. Yes, sorry. I drew in a deep breath then shrugged. Nothing to lose, right? Take that leap, dude. Did you really just say “when”? And more importantly, did you mean it?

His response was almost immediate. Yes, I did. Was that inappropriate? I’d like to get to know you better. This may come across as creepy, but fuck it. You only live once, right? I feel a connection to you, and I want to explore what it could be.

My heart started pounding in my chest, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Should I be flirty, non-committal, hard to get, hopeful, enthusiastic?

If I was honest with myself, I wanted what he was offering more than anything. But I rarely told myself the truth. I hadn’t let anyone in this way since Chad.

And I wouldn’t start now.

MrFox kept going when I didn’t reply. If that’s too much too soon—or too much at all—I’m happy to back off and let you live your life. You just say the word; you’re in control. I’m sorry if I offended you. But if you want to give this a try, online, and see where it might lead, I’ll be your Daddy. I’ll remind you to be brave when you’re scared. I’ll tell you to breathe when you’re anxious. If we decide to meet in person, I’ll hold you when you’re upset or lonely. Because you are brave, sweet boy. You are held. And you’re not alone. Daddy’s here.

My hands were shaking by the time I finished reading his text, and I could barely see through the ridiculous, nonsensical tears to type out a response, but I and my phone’s voice-to-text got it done. I’m here, Daddy.

You okay, baby boy?

I nearly swooned at the nickname, and I was glad I was still sitting down, even though the water was cooling. Sorry. I just need a minute.

His reply was quick yet again. Take your time, baby.

Setting the phone on the ledge by the tub, I waited until my tears subsided then took a deep breath before letting it out in one long stream. It seemed one short conversation with this clearly sweet Daddy gave me all the feels—hope, fear, desire, panic, longing—and I should hate that. Emotions were dangerous, and I’d perfected the art of shoving them down where no one, including myself, could find them. And yet, I still wanted more.