by Maren Smith
“Move.” He pointed to the front door, and Bell walked forward. “I'm gonna have to keep my eye on you, boy, you're gonna be trouble.”
I wiggled out of his hold. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” I shot him a glare and jogged after Bell. A deep gravelly chuckle followed me.
When I entered, I stopped in the foyer and did a turn, amazed by the spacious house and vaulted ceilings with exposed darkly stained wooden beams. The furniture was large with everything in earth tones and just right for the place.
“Like it?” Anderson asked. “Let me give you a tour.”
“Love it, way too much for me. I'm still trying to deal with living in a two-bedroom house.” I followed him from room to room, everything I saw made it more amazing by the second.
“From your Army brat days?”
“Sort of, still trying to get used to owning a house. It's weird putting down roots, you know?”
“I know what that's like. For the last ten years, I've lived in the same penthouse with rented furniture. I rarely used it because I traveled so much with my job.”
“What is it you do?” We'd gone through most of the house, and he'd told me what rooms were meant for what.
“I work for an international company as a lawyer. The travel was great at first. And after a while, you realize you're almost fifty, and all you have is your job.”
“I get that. It wasn't until the last few years I've been doing the reflecting thing. The what-ifs and all that, but I think everyone has those moments of existential dread to face sooner or later.”
“True. Don't get me wrong though. It's was nice to see the world on someone else's dime.”
I’d felt his full attention on me throughout the tour, and I was curious about what he thought. Yet, I was also more than a bit nervous to be his sole focus. I couldn’t remember a man in my life who seemed as interested as he did.
“Since Bell volunteered me as muscle, where do you want me to start?”
“Just find a box, see where it goes, and take it there. If you don't know, just ask. If something is heavy, don't bother with it. Most of those will go to my office, and it's all my books.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When we're done, I'll order us dinner as a thank you.”
“Food, I won't complain.” I walked over to the mountains of boxes and got to work.
Occasionally, I'd catch sight of Anderson and pause for a moment to appreciate the older man. I was seriously in trouble, though. I knew what my genitals were didn't matter to anyone but someone I planned to fuck or be in a relationship with. Yet that wasn't a step I'd taken yet. It was the big unknown and as snarky, and loud as I usually was, that's where I was stuttering to some invisible finish line.
I loved my body, it was my body, but I also knew that no one needed to love it the way I did. Fuck, I hated being insecure and a bit frightened in this area of my life. Yet, I had to respect the fear because it wasn't safe and secure everywhere for people to be who they were.
Chapter Two
Anderson
The boy was driving me crazy. Every time I saw him, passed him in the hall, or on the steps, I was helpless to ignore him. He was about five-seven, maybe eight at the most, slim but with a curvy ass. I hadn't dated much since my divorce from Bell's grandmother ten years before. I always used the excuse of my schedule and all the travel when someone asked if I was seeing anyone. The annoying blind dates set up by well-intentioned friends, the few people I'd thought I was interested in, didn't last long.
One too many canceled dates or delayed plans on my part, frustration turned to resentment, and we'd go our separate ways. Even the casual no-strings-attached-hookups where we'd agreed it wouldn't be serious had ended badly. Gender was never a factor in who I dated, if I was attracted to someone, then I'd see how it went, but I'd struck out completely with my love life.
I hadn't been married to Venita but a few years. After the honeymoon, I'd quickly learned I'd made a mistake. The beautiful older woman liked to have handsome, successful men on her arm, but we weren't more than an accessory, as expendable as a broken watch. I'd allowed my company to send me on more and more overseas cases just to escape. A month before our second anniversary, I'd served her with divorce papers.
I'd become close with a few of her family members, and Bell had been a good kid, while his parents had sympathized with my decision to get out. Yet Venita still controlled the purse strings, and they wouldn’t outwardly disrespect her in any way. We'd stayed in touch, but it was mostly calls at the holidays. I didn't know about moving back to the area, but when I'd fallen in love with this house, I’d told myself one day it would be mine, and I'd waited years for it to go on the market.
Part of me took it as a sign it was time to settle down, to find something and someone permanent. I’d bought the house, and now I was looking at a beautiful boy who landed on my doorstep. I'd taken a chance on calling him boy to see his reaction, and his shock and dilated pupils said he'd liked it.
I'd heard stories of Whisper a few times when talking to Bell, but never anything more than Bell saying he was going out with his friend or had spent the holidays with him.
“I don't think I can move another box,” Bell groaned as he fell onto my couch where I was grabbing the last box marked office.
I knew how he felt. My shoulders and back were starting to protest the physical labor. I worked out at least three times a week because of my office job, but the move had taken its toll. Yet no matter how much I worked out or how well I ate, in the last five years, my belly had rounded into a firm curve, and my once ripped muscles were softer, bulkier. And I was happy not killing myself in the gym seven days a week to stop the inevitable. I was content with being big and healthy, instead of ripped and exhausted with a horrible diet.
“I think I can handle everything else. There's only about ten boxes that need to make it to other rooms. I told Whisper I'd buy dinner as a thank you.”
“Mention food, and Whisper is all yours.”
“Really?” I asked and grinned as he looked at me.
“Yeah, don't think I didn't catch the glances at his ass or that sneaky baby boy. He won't notice the flirting though. You're gonna have to be more direct.”
I snorted and shook my head. “I'll make note of that. I'm not picky about food, so I'll go find him, then you two can pick a place.”
I took the box of books to my office and put them with the rest—the room had floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves in a dark stain. My realtor had urged me to put in a slightly lower bid from the offering price, but I wanted the house and the cost wasn't out of my comfort zone. I'd invested well and made a great salary, and I'd wanted a home—this home.
I exited my office and made my way back to the steps, I jogged up them, checking the three guest rooms and entered my bedroom. I paused in the doorway, leaning my shoulder against the frame and watched the little man making my bed.
“I hope you don't mind. I saw the box marked linens and another for pillows and comforters. Everything still smelled like detergent, so I figured it was safe.” He spoke without turning around to look at me.
“Thanks. My back will be appreciative later.”
“I slept on a bare mattress the first night because I was too tired to deal with making the bed, but I also unpacked everything before I went to sleep. I couldn't deal with the chaos.”
My body liked him leaning over my bed, smoothing the wrinkles from the thick bedspread. “Control freak?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me before he straightened. “Not in the least, but I deal better with everything in its place.” He spoke as he broke down the boxes he'd emptied. “I didn't know where you were setting up your linen closet, so I just put them in the hall closet. There were several shelves.”
I gave him a smile to say thank you and pointed over my shoulder. “I think Bell’s done for the day. I told him I'd come find you so we could order dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Always.”<
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“Then come on, let me feed you.” He had the cutest expression when I said I'd feed him. My Daddy Dom side hadn't come out in a long time, and I enjoyed being around the cute boy.
I stepped to the side to let the boy pass me and resisted the urge to touch him—to see what his reaction would be. We entered the living room, and Bell was scrolling on his phone. Whisper fell on the couch beside him—his head resting on the other man's shoulder. From what I could hear of their quiet conversation, they were deciding on where to order from. I pulled out my wallet and handed him my card to order the food.
“I'm going to run out for some drinks and a few things to get me through until I go grocery shopping tomorrow. What do y'all want?”
“Whisper can go with you. I'm going to order a bit of an assortment for us.”
“If he doesn't mind helping me out.”
“Absolutely not.” He moaned as he got up off the couch, Bell's hand on his ass, helping him stand.
I nearly said something before I reminded myself it wasn't my place. I knew they were best friends and obviously close, and who knew if they'd hooked up before becoming friends. My thoughts irritated me but didn't keep me from having them. I opened the door and let him go first. A bit of time alone with Whisper wouldn't hurt my feelings.
I didn't think twice about opening the passenger door for him and waited for him to get in. Before he could reach for his seatbelt, I grabbed it first and pulled it across his chest.
“You don't have to do that.”
“But you want me to.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw your reaction when I ordered you two not to fight and when I called you baby boy, you didn't hide it very well.”
“Is that bad?” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled on it. I didn't like his nervousness; I shouldn't make him uncomfortable.
“Not to me. Do you think it's bad?” I asked him as I made sure he was safe and secure in his seat, but I didn't move away. I smiled as I felt a soft brush of his fingers on my stomach.
“No, but maybe I should.”
“Why is that?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why don't you think about it, and when you decide, you can tell me how you feel then.”
“Okay.”
I brushed a kiss to his forehead, and as I pulled away, he had his eyes closed, a small smile curving his lips. I closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. As I got in and started the engine, I asked where the closest place to shop was. It had been years since I'd been there. I needed to take a drive to find everything. He gave me directions as I pulled out onto the main road.
“You didn't check out the area before you moved?”
“A lot changes in a few years, places open and close. I fell in love with that house when I lived here. It was newly built and the trees and shrubbery, and the stone fence hadn't been put in, so I could see it whenever I drove past it. Every year I checked listings, hoping maybe it would go on the market, and one day I was in London, couldn't sleep and decided to check, and there it was.”
“Meant to be.”
“Maybe, I'd started to get more restless.”
“There's always a sign, some of us just ignore it longer than others.”
He pointed at the light where I needed to turn into the shopping center. I found a parking spot close to one of the entrances.
“Be still. I'll come around to get you.”
“Yes, sir.”
A few minutes later, we were walking the aisle of the grocery section. I was asking the usual get to know each other questions, food, color, favorite movie, and we went back and forth like that while I picked up sodas, beer, wine, also juice, coffee and everything I'd need to get through at least breakfast and a massive list.
“I should've thought more about shopping. I swear my fridge only ever had condiments and takeout containers.”
“The joys of being single, and the age where whatever we want is no further than a phone app.”
“I think they'd revolt if I did a grocery order with everything I need.”
“Yeah, probably best to wait until when you just need a regular order.”
He stepped in front of me when we got in line and started emptying the cart. Watching him was quickly becoming a habit. He was beautiful. His head barely reached my chin, and him being a Little was a complete bonus. First, I needed to figure out what made the slightly odd boy uncomfortable. From what I learned, he didn't seem the type. Whatever it was, it would be fine, and I needed to convince him of that.
Chapter Three
Whisper
I tapped my bluetooth earpiece as my phone rang, and I checked to see who was calling. I smiled at seeing Mommie Dearest with a picture of my mom. “Hey, Mom, how's Tokyo?” I continued to stir the chicken soup I was making to portion out for dinners in my meal prep. Sundays were my day to cook, make a bunch of quick things to freeze, and all I’d have to do was thaw and heat. Cooking made me happy, but the cooking for one not so much.
“Fine, you know as much as I love your father, he needs to retire. My beautiful curvy ass is going flat from all the plane rides around the damn world.”
I chuckled at her usual complaint.
“But you know Dad only stays with you for that.”
“I know, I'll have to start doing”—she gagged—”squats.”
“The horror.”
“I know, but you know, you find a man that married you just for a fat, luscious body, and then you lose a pound, and the sex life goes to hell.”
“Sunflower, please.” When I used her name, she knew she needed to knock it down a notch.
“Honey, we should be used to this, and what have we talked about? Sexuality is natural, and if we speak about it in open and honest terms, we can normalize it and render it less taboo. Also, sex-positivity and honesty lower the risk of pregnancy. Also lessens the numbers of suicides among our LGBT+ youth when gender is treated as an abstract construct that exists on a spectrum.”
“Yes, Dr. Sunflower. How did my strait-laced drill sergeant of a father hook the hippie sex therapist?”
With her as my mom, I should’ve done better with my coming to terms and acceptance with being transgender, but I had such a hard time never staying in one place. Always on the outside on the bases and in the new communities, knowing I wouldn't be there long enough to bond with anyone. Fitting in became a horrible habit, and my sweet, peace-and-love mother had fought depression for several months over the fact that I'd feared my parents' reactions, especially hers.
“Well, he looked really hot in his uniform and so strict, I just knew he'd know how to handle all size twenty-two of me and handle it well. I had to have him. I made it my mission that he'd be in my bed, and I never let him leave.”
I rolled my eyes, a move I saw a thousand times from my dad over the years. He would just shake his head, give her ass a squeeze, and walk away. I should have some childhood trauma to work through, I really should.
“How are you, though?”
“I'm good, Mom, I promise. I went with Bell to help his step-grandfather move over the weekend.”
“When are you going to think about dating? I don't care about the sex part, but people are not meant to be solitary creatures. Touch starvation can cause a lot of mental, emotional, and physical issues.”
“I've been thinking about it.” That's all I'd thought about since I'd met Anderson. He had my Little in overdrive, and I wouldn't mind some big boy time with the hot Daddy, too.
“People who love and care for us don't care what genitals we have. We've discussed this in detail when you came out. Gender is a spectrum but also in the natural order of things, a fallacy.”
“I love my body. I've gone through all the body acceptance exercises. It just feels like it's going to be awkward the first serious relationship.” I threw in the thick noodles and gave it a stir, then turned to lean back against the counter. I'd gone through the whole train-wreck of emot
ions from soul-destroying doubt to the freedom of acceptance.
“I know, and you're well within your body autonomy to wait for the right one. When you meet the one you trust, just go with your gut. No person is worth questioning your body. We've talked about this your entire life. Body and sex-positivity is paramount to self-care.”
“You're preaching to the converted or, in this case, the indoctrinated. I had no choice about it.”
“If that was the case, you wouldn't have waited until thirty to begin living your authentic life.”
“I apologized for that, Mom.”
“I don't want you to say you're sorry. You robbed yourself of true happiness until then, and I'm so proud of you for finding your way. As your mother, I just want you to be happy, and it hurts me, you waited so long for that. You shouldn't delay anymore.”
“And I'm not. I didn't like dating before, and I'm no more in love with it now.”
“You did hate it, and you're one of those monogamous people.”
“Monogamy isn't a dirty word. Also, you've been in a monogamous relationship for thirty-two years.”
“As long as two people are open and honest with each other—”
“I don't want to know about my parents and their possible open relationship.”
“Fine. I can't believe I raised a prude.”
I laughed because I could clearly see her pout in my head. It's the same one she used whenever she wanted something from Dad, and he was helpless to tell her no.
“I did meet someone. He's handsome, and he's making my Little go crazy. His voice is just right to issue commands.”
“Why didn't you tell me this when you first answered? I want details.”
“There's no details to give. He gave me his number, but every time I go to call, I freeze.” I'd stared at my phone for fifteen minutes with my thumb over the call button several times. I hated when the rational part of my brain decided to take center-stage and make a list of everything that could go wrong. I'd stutter. I'd say something stupid. I'd make a complete fool of myself. My brain didn't have a strong filter, which tells me I shouldn't say something.