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Chapter 10
Baldor
I reached to scratch a sudden tickle on my nose, coming wide awake when the source of the tickle permeated my morning fog—Shelby.
Removing the offending strand from my face, I rolled onto my elbow and gazed, taking in her position on the bed. She really was adorable, with one knee tucked up to her chest lying on an angle, with her luscious ass tucked against me. She must have rolled over and in the process, her long locks ended up on me.
I witnessed the gentle rise and fall of her back and mused at the cute kitty sounds that emitted from her slightly parted lips. Her hair was less golden and could almost be a reddish-golden brown, commonly referred to as dark blonde. This was my first time seeing her in the early morning light, and I marveled at the perfection of her skin. This was a woman who spent a great deal of time out of the sun.
Here all she would have to do is walk out onto the deck, to get her fifteen minutes of required sun. I was a firm believer in if the environment could provide it, then that’s how we received it, for all else, high-end pharmaceutical vitamins. I made a mental note to go over her nutrient requirements, including getting her on folic acid.
I rolled onto my back and scooted out of the bed. A habitual early riser, I enjoyed the peace that came with being awake while the world slept. A few minutes alone while I made breakfast would give me time to reflect on last night. I stepped into a pair of shorts and headed toward the kitchen, enjoying how the blinds opened as I passed, the motion synced to the sensor and set to my waking hour.
I’d been the king, alone in his kingdom for a long time, for almost always, in fact. I was one of two children. The other, my sister Kara, died of leukemia when we were kids. Our family had never really recovered from the loss, and my parents turned their focus on their careers. Prior to her passing, they were attentive, and I would classify us as happy, but her leaving us seemed a catalyst to their pursuit of things and prestige.
They were good people, and I loved them, but we were not close and chose to see each other once a year on my birthday which was coming up soon. Despite the size and extravagance of my penthouse crib, my parents had never stayed with me, unknowingly increasing the gap between us. I say unknowingly because they gave me a wide berth, not because I asked or required it but because they did. I think they sought to compartmentalize their life after losing my sister and their only son fit in one of those compartments.
I often pondered if the nurturing I had given my sister when she became ill was part of my Daddy psyche, what had drawn me to it as a young man in college. I pulled Joan out of the drawer, my trusty morning companion from Butter Pat Industries, and placed her on the burner. I grabbed an assortment of items from the fridge. That was one thing different from probably many other bachelors, I kept my kingdom fully stocked in a double commercial fridge. I’d fallen in love with it at a trade show I’d attended with Erik when we were looking to outfit Valhalla’s kitchen upon completion of the renovated warehouse space that Odin, our fearless leader, had found.
I didn’t need such a large fridge, who would as it could amply serve a family of six or more. But I loved it and it allowed me to exercise my OCD tendencies. I’d purchased additional fridge organizers, so when you opened the doors, neat trays filled with items sat in an orderly fashion, like tin soldiers are all lined up in a row. I wasn’t as anal about my cupboards, but, as a cooking man, having my fridge like this made it a pleasure to open the doors to it every single time.
Shelby filled my thoughts as I busied myself around the gleaming kitchen. I poured fresh beans into my Breville system guaranteed to make a perfect cup of java, and it hadn’t disappointed so far.
Last night with Shelby had taken me by surprise and proved to be the best sex of my life. I was less in control than usual, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Control was a staple to being a Dom, and for my life in general. Confucius or someone blathered on about control being an illusion, that we were all living in a dreamscape and controlled very little in our lives.
I’d say after last night that was true. That was the second time having sex with Shelby and neither of those times had been part of a scene. She wasn’t trained, her reactions and responses as natural as the color of her hair. There was nothing fake about Shelby, or my desire to take her in every hole, repeatedly. A primal need to mark her as mine had reared its head last night. That was what was bothering me. My response to her was as natural as hers to me. What did that mean?
My hunger for her hadn’t abated. Even as I stood waiting for the bacon to reach perfect crispness, I had a hard-on for Shelby. As to why exactly, that was hard to identify and what I attributed to throwing me off my game a little.
I knew what I wanted and took it. Being a Daddy fed a part of me I couldn’t separate myself from, even had I wanted to.
Just give her a chance.
Yeah, okay, I could do that, but was I being fair to her? Shelby’s needs were as unique as my own, and I didn’t wish for our mutual attraction to stray from that fact. I wanted a Little and she wanted and needed a Daddy who wanted a Middle.
Semantics!
Shut up, I groused at myself as I loaded the tray, adding a flower from the vase in the dining room. I had to ask, was I getting too attached to labels? Maybe that was what being in my late thirties was all about. The guys and I were all hitting forty soon and it seemed like now was the time to create the rest of our lives.
The fact that thought reverberated with me was another concern. Why did I feel the sudden need to change things up?
‘Cause you’re lonely, dumbass!
I chuckled to myself as I stalked down to the master suite. Great, on top of everything else, I’m a total loon.
You just figured that out?
I banished my internal voice like I would swat an annoying fly buzzing around my head.
“Wake up, buttercup, breakfast is ready.”
Shelby cracked open one eye and gazed balefully at my tray. Blinking herself awake, she scooched up against the headboard.
“Breakfast in bed? I’ve never had that before.”
I tried not to let my irritation show as I placed the tray for two down and handed her a full plate. It really bothered me Shelby’s early years were not positive. That she had grown up in foster care and had been alone ever since didn’t sit well with me.
You’re on to something, buddy, your sister Kara. Doesn’t Shelby remind you of her, in more ways than one?
