Ride With Me

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

BARON

Who would have thought I’d find a Daddy at Anson’s birthday party?

Okay, maybe I should have realized that he’d have kinky friends, considering he’s substantially older than me and we’ve only known each other a few weeks. However, I was under the impression that he’s kind of new to exploring his kink and that he was keeping it under wraps from his otherwise very vanilla-seeming social circle.

The only reason he invited me to this party was because the Kitten he’s been playing with, Russell, is one of my only real friends, and I guess he felt bad that I would have been left out or whatever. I tried to excuse myself, but he and Russ insisted. And, because I’m a people pleaser, I couldn’t say no.

I’d been doing my best to stay as Big as possible so as not to weird anyone out…and then I’d seen him .

Tall, bearded, and dark-eyed, the man leaning against the wall grabbed my interest like nobody else in the room. He had a soft belly concealed—but not disguised—by his button-down shirt, while his big arms looked strong, and his face was kind.

He probably gives amazing cuddles, I thought.

So, I inched closer and stared. And stared. And stared some more.

Then I got too close and got caught.

But that turned out to be a good thing because Vince just said he’d be my Daddy!

I don’t know if he means just for tonight, or if he’s interested in an ongoing arrangement, but we can work that out later. For now, I’m going to show this Daddy that I can dance!

Taking his hand, I lead him onto the makeshift dance floor in Anson’s living room, swishing my hips to the beat of the music. He pulls my back flush against his front when we find a spot, and I sway against him, losing myself in the rhythm of the song.

Vince’s big hands settle under my shirt at my waist, his fingers flexing into my skin while I sing along to lyrics that are too naughty for me to be saying out loud. Behind me, I feel Vince moving, too, grinding into me, letting me know with his body that he appreciates my dancing a whole lot.

I turn around when the song changes, looping my arms around his neck, giggling when his thick beard tickles the exposed skin on the insides of my elbows. The music loses its frantic beat, shifting to something slower and more romantic. I close my eyes and hum as our movements slow to match it, swaying on the spot as Daddy rests his cheek against the top of my head.

His voice rumbles up through his chest when he says, “You were right. You are a very good dancer, Bear.”

I’m practically glowing from the praise. It makes me feel all warm and squiggly inside. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper, rubbing my head against his bearded jaw like a cat might.

I’ve probably been spending too much time with Russ.

But Daddy doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his hands tighten around my waist and he chuckles. “No, baby. Thank you for the dance.”

We sway until the song ends and a new, faster one picks up again. I squeal when the opening chords begin.

“I love the Macarena!” I launch myself backward, prepared to show him just how good I am at following the movements.

He seems momentarily surprised by how fast I’ve moved, but he shakes it off and kind of bounces in place, leaning on one leg and then the other, while I sing along to the English lyrics until the chorus kicks in. I can’t sing in Spanish, but I can do the dance steps.

Daddy cheers and claps when the chorus is over. “You really do love this one, huh?”

“Yeah.” My smile stretches my face as my heart races. “It’s like a grown-up Hokey Pokey. But I like doing that dance, too.”

Daddy’s laughter is rich and deep. My tummy flip-flops. I want to make him laugh more often. Plus, when he does, his eyes crinkle in the corners and it makes him even more handsome.

“Is that so?” he teases. “What about the chicken dance?”

Jumping on the spot, I clap my hands. “Yes! I’m good at that, too! Watch!” Even though it’s out of time with the Macarena, I demonstrate just how good I am at the chicken dance, delighting in my favorite part—the butt wiggle.

People around us stop to watch, but they lose interest when Daddy laughs and I join in with him. “That is indeed the chicken dance.” He snickers. “Very good.”

Once again, I feel warm all over at the compliment. “You’re not so bad at dancing either, Daddy.” I cock my head and bat my lashes the way I’ve seen Russ do. I’ve never been brave enough to flirt, but something about Vince makes me feel…well, in-vince-ible!

Yeah, okay, that was a bad pun.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter?” he asks, and my inexperience must be painted all over my face because he quickly adds, “Just to talk some more?”

Biting my lip, I nod. It’s warm in Anson’s apartment, warmer still because of all the people crammed into it; I’m flushed and a bit sweaty from dancing. “Can we get a drink?”

Vince takes my hand, weaving us through the moving bodies and toward the kitchen in the next room. “Beer?” he asks, then laughs when I scrunch up my nose. “Soda, then?”

I’d really prefer juice, but there doesn’t appear to be any in the coolers set out on the counter, so I nod. “Sprite, please.” I do enjoy the way the bubbles tickle my nose.

Vince grabs a Coke for himself and then, with a hand on the small of my back, guides me out of the crowded apartment and into the corresponding small but private front yard. I guess that’s one of the benefits of living in a ground-floor apartment, or at least it is here.

The neighborhood I live in isn’t anywhere near as nice, and my apartment is small and in need of some TLC. But it’s better than living with my parents, so I can’t complain.

Settling in one of two Adirondack chairs on the little front porch, I tilt my face skyward, letting the cool night air chill my heated cheeks. With my eyes closed, I hear the crack and hiss of Vince opening his soda, as well as the distant sound of nighttime traffic on the nearby highway.

“So, how do you know Anson?” Vince asks. Opening my eyes, I turn to find him studying me.

“He’s been seeing my best friend, Russ. They didn’t want me to be alone tonight, so”—I spread my hands wide, not too worried about jostling my unopened soda—“here I am.”

Vince blinks in surprise. “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone.”

“It’s pretty new,” I acknowledge, “and Russ is a major social butterfly. We got to the party and he found someone new to talk to and that was that.” I felt bad for Anson, to be honest. It’s his birthday; Russ should have stayed to talk to him. “I figure they’ll find each other later and Russ will make up for being a flake then.”

Honestly, I think it’s all part of his Kitten personality: he’s aloof and shows affection on his own terms. If that works for him and Anson? Great. But I’m not like that.

“Well, good for them, then.” Vince chuckles, taking another sip from his can. He looks down into it for a long moment before asking, “Can I ask how old you are?”

“Twenty-one.” Barely . The night Russ and I met Anson at The Grove, a local kink club, was my twenty-first birthday. Russ had urged me to indulge my Little inclinations in a kink club, hoping I might find a Daddy and finally lose my v-card.

Spoiler alert: I did not.

Vince nods, unfazed. “I guessed twenty-two.”

“Very good guess, Daddy.” I grin.

He winks. “I like it when you call me that.”

I wonder if that’s something he tells all the Boys, but I don’t dare ask the question. Vince didn’t seem interested in anyone else at the party, and he doesn’t really throw off playboy vibes. Just because I’m a shy virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t come across my share of creepy assholes.

Whoops. That’s a bad word.

“I like calling you Daddy,” I confess quietly, toying with the tab of my drink. “I’ve, um, never done this before. Had anyone to call Daddy, I mean.”

“Hey,” he soothes, “you’re young, Bear. You’ve got a lifetime to explore your kinks. But I’m honored you’re starting with me.”

The words confuse me a bit, but I let them go. I don’t feel like being Little is a kink thing for me. It’s just who I am 24/7. I can pretend to be a functioning adult when it counts, but when I’m comfortable being myself? I prefer stuffies, blocks, cartoons, and pacifiers…and not as part of a sex game or because it arouses me (though I do sometimes do naughty things with my stuffies).

Maybe for Vince it’s different. Maybe he’s a scene Daddy and he’s happy to play for a night or two, but for him it is about kink more than it’s about caretaking.

Thinking so is saddening, because I’d like the chance to have him for longer than a night. I want to introduce him to my stuffies, and I want to play pirates with him and ask him to help me build a super tall tower out of blocks.

And maybe…maybe I’d like to do the kinds of naughty things with him that I’ve been doing with my stuffies. My tiger, Sir Roars-A-Lot, could probably use a break.

Oblivious to my thoughts, he asks, “So, are you a student? Do you work?”

“I graduated college in spring. I, um, I’m a programmer and I work from home.”

Even though know I’m good at it, I’m still embarrassed that I’m a stereotypical computer geek who hides in his room all the time. I don’t have many friends and I’ve chosen the most antisocial job in the world.

Daddy gives a low whistle. “That’s impressive,” he says, and I feel butterflies again. “I’m just a doctor.” He snores loudly.

I can’t help bursting into laughter. “That’s not boring! It’s smart and kind! You help people!” I can imagine him looking all serious in a lab coat, and my tummy flips.

“I do like helping people, yeah.” Leaning back in his chair, Vince smiles at me again. “So…what do you do for fun?”

I tell him about playing with toys and building Lego, and he gets really enthusiastic when I mention my Death Star kit. We talk for ages, moving on from the topic of Lego to movies and then our favorite TV shows. But, when I start yawning, Vince stands and offers me his hand.

“I think I’ve kept you out late enough,” he says, and I can’t help leaning into him as he tugs me up out of my chair.

I’ve never really had anyone to cuddle with other than my stuffies, and his embrace feels amazing. I never want it to end.

“Oh, you’re a real snuggle bug, aren’t you?” Daddy teases and my face flames, so I press it into his chest.

“Come on, let’s get you into an Uber home, hmm? Will you be able to stay awake for that?”

His concern adds to that glowy, gooey feeling inside me. “I’ll be fine, Daddy.” I glance up shyly, “If you give me your number, I can let you know when I’m home safe?”

He doesn’t even try hiding his pleased smile before he pulls out his phone and asks for my number instead, texting me immediately so we have each other’s details. Then he orders an Uber and walks me out through the front gate to wait with me.

It’s been a magical night, even though we didn’t do much other than talk. I’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as I have with Vince, and I don’t know how to tell him that I want to explore that some more.

Thankfully, I don’t have to.

“I’ve had fun,” he says as my Uber pulls up to the curb. “Promise you’ll text me, Baby Bear?”

“I promise.”

“And if I said I want to see you again?”

I’m pretty sure he can hear my heart beating loudly, because my blood is thundering in my ears. “I’d like that, Daddy.”

He opens the rear passenger door, making sure I’m settled before he presses a soft kiss to my forehead. His beard tickles the skin there, and I giggle quietly. “See you soon, then,” he says, and I nod, not trusting my voice.

Then he closes the door. The car pulls away from the curb, but I turn in my seat to watch Daddy waving goodbye until the darkness of the night swallows him up.