A Daddy for Benito by Joe Satoria

9. BENITO

SUNDAY

I learned more about Harry than I could find in his flat. He was a data analyst, I chuckled, breaking down the word analyst in my head. After food, we settled on the sofa, breaking it in as we watched the first few episodes of Sailor Moon, and I ate all six of the small berry yoghurts. Apparently six was my limit. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember waking up in bed. I certainly hadn’t fallen asleep there.

Harry wasn’t in bed beside me. The curtains were drawn. It was dark. I could see only through the light from the crack of the door leading out into the hallway. Reaching a hand down my body, I wasn’t covered in the same satin French maid’s outfit I’d worn when we cuddled on the sofa.

I was naked. I frisked myself for my phone. I was still naked, and my skin didn’t have pockets.

It was on the nightstand. It was 5 A.M. it must have been around 8 or 9 in the evening when I fell to sleep. I’d been wide awake all day yesterday, and travel took it out of me. I didn’t want to stir from the bed, especially not so early. But Harry wasn’t in bed, and the light to the en suite wasn’t on either.

There was also the smaller toilet and sink in the hallway. It was tucked away beside the linen closet. You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were told about it. Maybe he was using the toilet and didn’t want to wake me. Or maybe he had a secret—

At the notion of the secret in my mind, I jumped out of bed. Aware of my naked body, tall and skinny. I stepped around the room to the chest of drawers. I’d packed my underwear and shorts in the top right. Harry’s were in the top left. I wore his. A large pair of striped boxers. They slipped around my waist and would definitely fall to my feet. I pulled them higher, rolling the top of them. The back of them hugged at my ass cheeks. They weren’t falling anywhere now.

In the hallway from the bedroom, I heard him. He was mumbling. The way the flat was laid out was that the flat opened to a hallway, it lead to the living room. On the right side, there was a large arched doorway to the kitchen-dining room, and on the other side of the wall from the hallway, there was the main bedroom and en suite. It was like someone had been playing Tetris and was trying to fit as much into a square as possible.

Standing at the doorway, I watched. Harry was on his knees, scrubbing at the floor of the kitchen-dining area. His back was to me. He wore a pair of yellow gloves and was pulsing his finger on a bottle of cleaner.

“You ok?” I asked.

Startled. He let out a yelp. “Shit. Fuck.” He turned his head to me. He was flustered red. “What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

The elastic twanged as he pulled away the gloves. “I was just—” he glanced at the spot on the floor. The spot, I realised was where I’d came, being fucked from behind against the table.

“I did clean that,” I said, “when you left, I cleaned it.”

“I just—I like to make sure everything is clean.”

“OCD,” I said.

Harry stood, shaking his head. “It’s not quite so mild,” he said, his eyes darting to the underwear covering my modesty. At least, I assumed they were covering—and also that I even had any modesty left. “When I get something in my head, I can’t let it go unless I’ve done it myself.”

Raising my brows at him and glancing back to the plastic gloves in his hand. I chewed on my lip. “To be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever see you on your knees.”

Harry scoffed. “Yeah, and you won’t in future.”

“I could have been really offended,” I said, “you don’t trust my ability to clean. What if the reason I have the maid outfit it because I work parttime as a cleaner?”

Grinning out the side of his mouth, Harry tried to repress his smile. “I don’t ever see you doing manual labour,” he said, “and that’s not a bad thing, but for you, I just don’t ever see you doing anything like that.”

I present my hand to him and pressed it against his chest. “It’s why I have such soft hands.”

“Soft hands?” he said, dropping the plastic gloves. He stroked at the back of my hand. “They are soft. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah,” I partly lied. In my hands, I pulled gently at the hair of his chest.

Harry clicked his tongue, his grasp turning firm on my wrist. He pulled my hand away from his chest. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said, “in fact, maybe now you’re awake, you can get started on the chores.”

“Chores?” I choked.

“Yeah, the terms.”

I couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “I don’t do chores. These hands don’t do chores.”

He pulled my limp wrist to his lips and kissed at the back of my hand. “Me,” he said. “I’m your daily chore.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that, but it didn’t sound like manual labour. “And by that you mean, take care of your needs?” I wet my lips with my tongue. “I’m not sure I can do that. You have to earn me.”

Harry let go of my wrist. “Well,” he began. He hooked a finger inside the rolled waistband of the boxers I wore. “These are mine, so whatever is inside them is mine too.”

“Oh. You thought this was going to be easy,” I said. Unrolling the waistband, the underwear dropped to my feet. “I think I’ll break you before you break me.” And I thought he might have already broken me with the way his cock had been inside me. Fearing he could’ve gaped the life out of me.

“I’m playing,” he said, “and I don’t mind you cleaning, but I like to see them clean.”

“That’s why you showered after we fucked, right?”

He nodded. “And why I didn’t stay the night when we first met,” he said. “I couldn’t just come out and tell you that I needed to take a shower. And for what it’s worth, I waited until you were asleep before I left you.”

I nodded. “Would you leave me again, if you could go back and change it?”

He shook his head. “After trying to find you for months, yeah I’d go back. Then I’d tell you to come to mine.”

“Moving fast?” My brow cocked.

“That’s the only speed I know. Nobody has time for slow. There’s not enough time in the world to take every step slowly.”

I stepped to him, his chest hair tickling against my skin as our naked bodies pressed together. “I don’t like slow either,” I said. More proof we were on the same page. “So I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Please,” he said, “I hate chasing.”

“You have to look after me, and I need to be cuddled.”

He nodded. “Ok. And you have to do everything I say.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked, because it was a certain fact that I wasn’t going to be doing everything he said.

Harry smirked, looking up at me. “I’ll think of something,” he said. He reached around and grabbed my ass. He gave it a gentle smack. “But you’ll get your cuddles, little spoon.” He nodded.

“It’s a deal,” I said, softly.

He squeezed me in his arms, his head at my neck. He kissed at my collarbone. “Get back to bed, I’ll be in after I’ve gone over the floor with the mop.”

There was a warmth to the way he touched me, grabbed me, held me. It wasn’t like anything I’d had before. I wanted to steal the feeling so I could have it all the time. But I’d have to settle for getting it when he was giving.