Guilty Pleasures

I was in a conundrum. Ms. Johnson scheduled Gregg and me to go to Utah this weekend for a story and to take pictures. I didn't have a babysitter for Dawson and he couldn't very well come along. My mind returned to Kit as I drove the crowded streets alongside honking, irritable drivers and the smell of grub from food trucks mixed with the odor of gasoline and oil. It all came down to him. I'd ask Peggy if she could watch Dawson a bit later on Friday night until Kit could pick him up, then if Kit didn't mind, I'd have him watch my son over the weekend.

It bothered me that I couldn't go to Kit's runway show. I really wanted to watch him strut his stuff. I also felt the weight of despair he may not be able to or want to watch Dawson. There'd be an after party with the models and the designers and famous spectators. Would he mind giving that up to babysit? What could I do, ask Kit not to attend? Yes, I'd have to.

I veered to the right as some asshole in an Audi crossed the center lane. Usually I'd cuss and ream him out in my head, but I didn't. I'd been frightened to the point of paranoia. What would happen if I was killed in an accident or in a coma? Who would take care of Dawson? Having a child made me think. It's not about me anymore, it's about who's in my life and who I leave behind.

I went to Kit's door to ask him if he'd help me out before I picked up Dawson from Peggy's. Better to do it now and let him have a couple of days to think about it than spring it on him at the last minute.

At hearing a, "It's open," I walked inside. He had on basketball length shorts and nothing else. Evidently, he didn't have underwear on. I noticed his dick wobbling back and forth as he walked to me. What a welcome sight.

"Hi, I didn't expect you."

"Really? I'd say you did." I grinned, pointing to the front of his orange and blue shorts.

Teasing me, he pulled the elastic away from his body and looked inside his shorts. "It's comfortable with my cock and balls hanging out with each other. You really ought to try it sometime."

"Maybe I will." I chuckled. "But that's not why I came here. I need to ask a favor of you."

"Anything, Ricky." His hands wrapped around my waist as we stared into each other's eyes.

I smiled and kissed his temple and said, "I need... I'm working this weekend. Gregg and I are flying to Utah and I need someone to take care of Dawson for me. He knows you and you handle him well. Do you think you can do this for me?"

His eyes narrowed. "You want me to babysit?"

"Please?"

"Is that the only thing I'm good for?"

"I didn't say that and you know it's not true." I felt a pang through my heart that he felt I'd think that way about him.

"I'm working Friday or did you forget that I have obligations too?"

His sassy, pretty mouth was asking for it. Smirking at the look on his face, I answered, "I didn't forget. I figure you could pick him up when you're done with the show."

He licked his lips with slow deliberate strokes from his tongue as he raised one brow, an expert at turning me on. "What's in it for me?" He asked in a low tone the same time his hand jolted to the front of my slacks, pressing against my crotch, and holding my junk hostage. I inhaled stiffly and grabbed him by the biceps when he began to rub me.

"Hey!" he called out at my brute force, yet, kept a smile in his voice.

I jerked Kit to my body and laid a passionate kiss on his lips. His hand gripped my hardening cock. I broke our kiss to stop him. I didn't want to, but I had to. I needed to head next door to Peggy's and I didn't want to show up with a hard on.

"Raincheck?" I released his arms and brought my hand up to slide my thumb across the contour of his cheekbone. "I'll do whatever you want me to when I get back from Utah if you'll watch Dawson." I wiggled my brows up and down to entice him.

His mouth made an 'o' shape at the offer presented to him. After a beat he asked, "Anything?" His devilish eyes danced as he pursed his lips, thinking.

Uh oh. "Just about anything, I corrected." My hand fell to his shoulder, my fingers drawing shapes on it.

"I'm going to plan something special. Something you probably haven't done before."

I tossed my head back and laughed, then I met his eyes again. "I'm not dressing up in drag. That's out." I smirked at the joke.

"Well ... shit." He pushed his lips outward, his face expressing a pout.

God, he had that look down pat. I was a sucker for it, but I would not dress in women's clothes and makeup. My eyes bugged in shock. "You'd have me do that?"

"Nah, I'm just dickin' with ya. I've got a good idea brewing up here." He tapped his head. "Give me the details for this weekend."

"I have to ask Peggy if she can watch him Friday night first. If she can, you'd pick him up after your show and bring him here. There are toys in your spare closet."

Kit's brows flew up. "There are?"

"I put a few there before I met Dawson. Um, what else? Oh, I'm coming home Sunday.

His hands coasted up and down my waist as he asked, "Why don't you both stay overnight when you get back?"

"That would be perfect. As for Friday and Saturday, I suggest Dawson sleep in your bed with you. He'd fuss if he had to sleep alone in your spare bedroom." I sank my teeth into my lower lip briefly and added, "I worry how he's going to act when I'm gone."

Kit nodded, assuring me, "I'll take good care of him."

"I know you will, babe. I just don't want you to have a rough time with him. Hey! Did I tell you he called me daddy?"

"Aww. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, I'm pretty proud. Well," I looked to the door. "I should get him."

"Would you two want to come back here? I can make a frozen pizza." His grin sparkled.

"I'd love to!" Elated, I gave him another kiss. "You may want to change or put on some underwear. Dawson might think you have something in there to play with." I snickered and yanked on his cock, squeezing it once.

"It is for play, but only for you." He winked.

I grinned ear to ear as I strolled down the hall. Lisa answered the door and sweetly told me to come inside.

"How did he do?" I asked with some trepidation.

"Great for the last two hours I've been home. You'll have to ask grandma how he was during the day."

I saw Dawson sitting on the floor at Peggy's feet with three overturned pots of different sizes and wooden spoons in his hands, creating 'music'. "Hi Dawson." I crouched in front of him.

"Hi daddy." Dawson didn't look at me, but he banged the hell out of those pots.

My head jerked and I involuntarily blinked hard each time he hit an upended pot. I had to push my fingertips into my ears to muffle the sound. I waited a bit and smiled to show him that I approved of his creativity before I straightened up to address Peggy.

"How did his first day go?"

"Wonderful. He's a bright boy and likes to help." She glanced at Dawson. "You washed the dishes, didn't you?"

"Yup." Dawson answered with a solid nod.

"I was wondering if he could stay late this Friday. I'm working out of state for the weekend and Kit said he'd get him right after he finished working Friday night."

"It shouldn't be a problem. Lisa will be here to keep him busy too."

"Great! I'll pack extra clothes and food for him. I'm not sure when Kit will finish his runway show. I guess you can put Dawson on the couch to sleep if it gets really late."

"Will do." Peggy stood. "Dawson, help me put the pots away." She grabbed two pots and waited for him to follow. He paused with his arm mid-strike and gazed at her.

"More. More pots," my boy demanded with a determined look in his eyes. I recognized the look as one I'd give when I wanted something.

"Dawson, we're going to Kit's place. He wants to see you."

He looked at me, dropped the spoons and stood up. "Kit!" he said with more excitement than I've heard him utter since I'd met him.

"Yes, now help Peggy clean up." I pointed to the pot and spoons. He bent over and took them to the kitchen. I peered around the corner and saw him put them away. "Good job, now tell Peggy and Lisa goodbye."

Dawson ran to them and gave them hugs.

"Thank you again," I said appreciatively and took my son next door.

"Come in," Kit called out after I knocked.

"Kit." Dawson pointed to Kit and looked at me to confirm his statement.

"Yes, that's Kit." I saw he'd put on a tight tee shirt and wore the same shorts. Gone was the free-hanging bulge. I almost regretted telling him to cover it.

"Hiya, big boy." Kit bent over with his hands on his knees and smiled at Dawson. "Can I have a hug?"

Dawson ran right into his arms. Kit caught him and swung him around. My son squealed and laughed, his curls flying about midair.

"He likes me," Kit bragged with a sizable grin, tossing my bundle of joy into the air and catching him.

"I figured out why." I stood near Kit with a smug smile.

"It's because I'm a nice person."

"You are, but here's my theory. He's relaxed around women. Therefore, I think he believes you're a girl."

Kit set Dawson on his feet. "There are toys in the living room, big boy. You can go play if you want to."

I snickered as my son hightailed it out of there, preferring toys to adult conversation. Kit stayed quiet, took out a frozen pizza, and set the oven temperature. He took a stance, not a masculine one, and asked, "Why would he think I'm a girl?"

I laughed to myself. "Look at the way you're standing. It's neither feminine nor manly, but rather adorable."

"So?"

"There's also your face. You have soft features; you're easy on the eyes. Gorgeous." He knew it, too.

"He thinks I'm a-a girl? I don't believe it." He pretend scowled at me.

I shrugged. Teasing, I asked, "How do you account for the fact that he liked you the minute he saw you?"

Kit's eyes darted around while he tried to think up a plausible excuse.

I took his hand and kissed it, then laid it on my cheek and held it there. "Looks like you're the one who'd look better in drag, kitten." I joked.

"I don't mind drag queens. I have friends who are pros. Did I tell you? I'm wearing some funky clothes on Friday. One is a man's skirt and another is a loosely crocheted tank."

"Bet you'll turn everyone's heads." I cozied up to him and took him in my arms. It felt like heaven.

"I won't know. A runway model has to look straight ahead, not down or to the side, and I have to keep a straight face as I walk. OH! I should show you my walk. Go to the living room." Kit went to the front door, composed himself, and then lifted a leg and extended it. His strides were commanding and longer than normal and caused his hips to swing. Damn, he was sexy. As he moved, his head and shoulders remained motionless. His gaze looked past me and focused on something straight ahead. I saw him suck in his cheeks a bit to enhance his intense appearance. He stopped and paused in the living room, then pivoted. His face was the last thing to turn away from me. He looked so beautiful. I could see why he was a successful model.

He threw his hands up in the air at the front door, turned around, and asked, "Well?"

I applauded as he walked back to me. "I wish I could be there to see you. You had a beautiful expression, probably the best 'do me' face I've ever seen."

"My agent sent me to a couple of catwalk classes a while back. I learned everything I need to know. My teacher said it came natural to me."

"I bet she did." I said, astounded by the way he'd walked. I'd never seen anything like it before. Granted, I'd never been to a runway show either.

"He. He said I was a born for the runway. He told me I walked fuckin' sexy and I'm smokin' hot and that I'd have the audience going wild for me."

A gasp of jealously came from me. "Is he a professional? Should he say things like that to his students?"

"That's nothing. He said to sell the clothes on my back I had to eye-fuck the audience without looking directly at them and to keep working my body—lead with my dick. I wonder if I went to the right class? It sounds like something a hooker does, doesn't it?" He giggled.

I put my hand over his mouth and whispered, "Don't talk like that. Dawson may hear you."

He tore my hand from his lips. "Don't shush me like that in my own apartment." He smirked and went to the kitchen. I heard the oven open and close.

I sat on the floor next to my son and as expected, he moved away. I'd entered his personal space, a boundary I was forbidden to enter more often than not.

"Can I play with you?" I asked with a smile.

He sighed as a person does when he or she is immersed in an important task and someone has disrupted them. To his credit, he handed me the wooden caboose of the train he'd been pushing around. I drove it over the carpet saying, "choo-choo," when he decided to stand. He picked up the plastic, red barn by the handle on top and a bag of animals and tractors and went to sit in a different area of the living room.

I was in his way, useless to him, the annoying adult who took the fun out of playtime.

Kit must have witnessed the action because he sat next to me on the floor and attached the caboose to the rest of the train, then engaged me in play. He showed Dawson how two people could share and play together. I'd recently become a father so it hadn't crossed my mind whether my son knew how to play with others or not. I had a lot to learn, but I sensed Olivia would've exposed him to children at playgrounds and parks. He'd also been around kids at his babysitter's house. I added the results in my head. The conclusion led me back to the fact he evidently didn't like me.

"Come play with us and bring your barn." Kit waved him over. With a reluctant look on his face, Dawson joined us. He handed us animals, naming them as he set each one in our hands. Kit and I set up the farm animals inside a fenced in area next to the barn. We heard a buzz.

"Pizza's done!" Kit jumped up and walked to the kitchen. Dawson mimicked Kit's words as he ran after him.

I followed at a slower pace. While Kit cut into the pizza, I gathered plates and napkins. A big stack of napkins. My son was a little mess magnet.
∞∞∞∞∞∞
Kit and I sat on the couch talking while Dawson lie on the floor on his stomach, eyeing each farm animal closely, but he wouldn't touch them. He just looked, so I asked him to tell me what sound a cow makes, a horse, and the other animals on the farm.

"He's good at that," Kit commented. "Dawson, what sounds does daddy make?"

My son's brown eyes were on my face. I smiled, hoping he'd say something nice.

Dawson's cheeks puffed up, then his lips pursed and he forced air out between them. "Zhgg....phwzzz." Next a sound came from an inhalation from his nasal passage, "Kxxgg."

Kit erupted in laughter and Dawson had a grin on his face for causing Kit to react that way.

"Are you saying I snore?" I chuckled.

Dawson sat up and pointed at me. "You snore."

I reached over and tousled his hair. "You're a funny guy."

"Stop." He slapped my hand away. Quietly, he stated, "I want momma."

Those words pained me in many ways. "I know you do, but you're with daddy now." Kit and I weren't sure what to do when he ran and hid from us.

"I'll give him a minute or two to be alone before I bring him back." I said and caught Kit checking the time.

"Or maybe I'll check on him now." I stood up. He'd probably had enough of Dawson and me and changed his mind about us staying over. Raising a child was turning out to be never ending work. I walked into Kit's bedroom calling out, "Dawson, come out. We're going to leave."

He stood up on the other side of the bed where he'd been laying on the floor hiding from me. "No. Stay here." His mouth had turned down with little fists of fury at his sides.

I walked steadily to him and picked him up. "I know you want to stay here, but we can't today."

"I want my momma." He threw his arms around my neck and I patted his back.

"I wish I could get her for you, but I can't. She went to heaven to be with the other angels."

"I want to go too."

"I know, little guy." I carried my son to the living room to play with his toys and went to help Kit clean up the kitchen.

"Do you still want Dawson and me to stay? I'll understand if you've changed your mind."

"I want you to stay." His hands were in the dishwater searching for utensils. He hadn't faced me when he replied so I had my doubts.

"You're not lying to me, are you?" I asked to be sure. I didn't want to impose on him.

This time he whipped his head in my direction. "What are you saying? That I'd lie to you? When have I ever lied to you, Richard?"

"You haven't." I hung my head. "I'm merely worried."

"About what?" Kit said soft and gently.

"That you will tire of me and Dawson. I suppose I'm guarding my heart."

"I won't tire of you." He patted my cheeks with wet, soapy hands and laughed when I took a towel and wiped my face, then swatted his leg with it. He stated, "Even if we're nothing more than good friends, I won't tire of you."

Friends? Great. Just great. I'd taken a new job and moved here from L.A. only to be friends with him?—I think not.

"Are you good here, or do you want help?" I glanced around. He'd cleaned the kitchen already.

"I'm nearly finished. Why don't you see if there's a movie on that we can watch? Something sexy."

"Dawson is still awake."

One side of Kit's mouth rose in a sneaky smile. "Put him to bed."

"I will when it's time. I've learned that he'll keep getting up if he's not sleepy." I heard Kit exhale, so I left the kitchen shaking my head. Then I felt guilty again. Kit couldn't help it if he wanted time alone with me. This transition would take time to get used to. I turned back around and went to the kitchen.

My arms wrapped around Kit's lean waist from behind and I kissed the side of his neck. "Forgive me for being short with you. I promise as soon as he's sleeping, we'll go to bed and I'll show you how much I love you."

"How many times will you show me that you love me?" Kit asked playfully, rotated in my arms, and gave me a mischief-maker's smile.

"Until you're completely mine." I promised.

"Hm, that might take some doing until I'm convinced," Kit flirted.

"We have all night. I only need four or five hours of sleep to function at work tomorrow." My hands slipped from his back to his ass and I thrust him forward into my body.

"Why Mister Parker, are you proposing we stay up past our bedtime?"

I put my mouth near his ear and I whispered, "I'm proposing we fuck until morning." I bit the lobe of his ear and in return, he pushed his hands down the back of my pants and played with my ass. "You don't know what you do to me, Kit." I lapped at his ear while grinding against him.

"I can feel what I'm doing to you."

Kit bowed his head back. I took advantage and kissed up his throat. I circled my tongue around his protruding Adam's apple and then began to nibble on his skin.

Kit moaned deeply, but then he warned, "Don't mark me. I can't have any bruises when I walk down the runway."

"I'll just put them where no one will see them."

"Good idea. You know models undress and strip naked in front of each other. There's no time for privacy. I don't even have a moment to glance at anybody before I'm stripped and dressed again. It's hectic."

"You can stare at me all you want tonight." I took a stiff gasp when he plunged his finger further down, nearing my hole.

"I can't stop touching you." Kit pressed his lips to mine and before long, we were making out, that is, until we heard Dawson calling for me.

"Daddy? Daddy!"

"Shit." Kit drew his hands out of my pants. I jerked away and rushed to the living room to see what happened.

"What is it Dawson?" I knelt in front of him.

"I'm thirsty. Can I have a drink, please?"

I pressed my hand to my chest and raised my brows at hearing the number of words he'd strung together. He'd been reserved up until now.

"Sure. Take my hand." I stood up and reached for him, but he shook his head. He wanted nothing to do with touching me, but he did follow me to the kitchen.

"Do you have anything for Dawson to drink?"

Kit nodded. "Water or beer," he said and tried hard not to smile.

"Ah, I think we'll stick with water." I winked.

Kit began filling a glass with water while humming a song.

"Do you have plastic ones? I don't want him to break it."

"No I don't. I'm an adult and I live alone and I don't need plastic because I'm careful." He snorted.

"Okay." I took the glass from Kit and poured half of the water into the sink. What was Kit thinking filling it all the way up? Dawson couldn't drink that much. "Here, sweetheart. Be careful and don't drop the glass," I told my son.

He took the glass in both hands and tipped it up, gulping so fast that water spilled from the outer edges of the glass and down his shirt and ultimately onto the floor.

Kit handed me a bunch of paper towels. I waited until Dawson finished drinking before I cleaned him up and dried the floor.

Kit slid a kitchen drawer open. "Here," he said with his palm open, a key in his hand. "You can have this for getting into the apartment Sunday when you get back from Ohio."

"Utah." I took his apartment key and placed it in my front pocket.

"Whatever." Kit took the glass from Dawson and set it in the sink. "Are you tired?" He gazed at my son, pantomiming a yawn. Dawson shook his head and ran away. What did Kit expect? What kid wants to go to bed when asked?

"We could drug him." Kit chuckled, teasing me.

"Have patience. It's nearly time to put him to bed," I said, massaging his shoulders until he closed his eyes, dropped his forehead against my chest, and relaxed. I kissed the top of his mint and lemongrass shampoo scented head.

We didn't see Dawson when we walked into the living room, but we heard him crying behind Kit's couch.

"Hey buddy, what's wrong?" I asked him. He'd crouched down, holding his knees to his chest. I patted his shoulder. "Tell me, Dawson."

"Wet my pants." He wailed.

I thought he'd finished with diapers, so I'd stopped using them as he'd been making use of the toilet.

"It's all right. I'll give you a bath and we can put your other clothes on. Kit can get them from the bag we left at Peggy's.

"Sure I can." Kit stood behind the couch with us. He bent down and wiped Dawson's nose with a tissue he'd grabbed. "No more crying, okay? It was an accident."

Dawson nodded and took Kit's hand. Great, I thought, he likes Kit more than he likes me, but I'm glad he likes Kit because Kit could be part of Dawson's future.

"I'll be right back." Kit told me, almost kissing me goodbye, but thought better of it in front of my son.

I led Dawson to the bathroom and started a bath using shampoo to create bubbles. "Sit on the toilet and try to go potty, buddy."

He clutched at his shirt and looked away from me, so I stepped into the hall to give him privacy and peeked in on him periodically to be sure he was safe. I think I'd end up becoming one of those helicopter parents, hovering over their child to protect them at any cost.

I heard Kit come back. He came to me and handed over the bag containing Dawson's things. "Is he in the bathtub?"

I motioned with my head, jerking it at the open bathroom door and said, "Not yet. He's trying to go potty."

"Dawson? Can I come inside?" Kit asked, his hand resting on the doorjamb.

"Okay," Dawson replied. I heard Kit asking him if he was finished and to take off his clothing. A sloshing sound and a giggle told me Dawson was in the bathtub.

"I'll see if I have tub toys." I snuck my head in, seeing Kit with a hand in the water splashing Dawson, and left them to check what toys were in the second bedroom closet. I unwrapped plastic ducks and a little blue boat that included a goofy looking captain, then I heard squeals of delight. I didn't want to miss this.

I stalled when I stepped into the bathroom. Kit was in the tub with Dawson slapping the bubbly surface of the water, getting the bathroom floor drenched, and himself too. I crept forward. Kit and Dawson grinned at me.

They looked like family and oh so adorable—Dawson with a wet head and Kit with his hair damp and his long legs bent at the knee. I set the toys in the water and put the lid of the toilet down to sit on. I talked to Kit as my son played with the boat until they both had wrinkled fingers and toes. I wrapped Dawson from head to toe in a towel as Kit dried himself off.

"Ahem." I got Kit's attention and nodded down at Dawson. "I'll take him and put his pajamas on. Meet you in the bedroom." Kit nodded. I held my hand out. "Come with me, Dawson. Kit is going to clean the bathroom and get his pajamas on too." I made my voice sound excited so he'd come with me, and he did. I pulled the red and blue fire truck shirt and shorts from his bag. "Try to put these on. I'm going to see if Kit needs help."

I walked to the bathroom and hitched my breath at the sight of him on his hands and knees on the floor, toweling the puddle of water. "You better put something on before Dawson sees you like that; ass pointed this way with your nuts hanging between your legs."

Kit scoffed and stood up. He wrapped a dry towel around his waist and as he brushed past me, but my hand shot out and landed on his chest. I pushed him against the open door and stepped up to him. "Wait," I said, my mouth watering at the action I was going to carry out.

"Yeah?"

A faint smile told me he knew what I wanted. His gaze went from my eyes to my lips, then his tongue poked out to graze wetly at his bottom lip. Our eyes met. His appeared innocent, but upon closer inspection, I noticed the warmth in them presented a sinful element and caused my cock to jump to attention. He tilted his head to kiss me, but I took over to show him how much I love him. My hands settled on his waist and I made a rush attack on his soft and supple lips. I skimmed my tongue against his as his hands moved up to clutch my hair. Our mouths opened more as the kiss advanced, turning frantic and hungry. I gave him a reassuring squeeze on his waist. His right hand danced down my back. His fingers tucked into the back of my pants and his hand cupped my ass cheek.

"Daddy?"

The small voice broke my thoughts. I gasped and drew back at having forgotten myself. Dawson stood at the door looking up, his shirt on backwards and his shorts twisted to one side. "Read a story," he said, handing me a picture book.

"Okay." I took the book and told Kit, "Let's get into pjs. After he falls asleep, we can cuddle in bed."

Kit whispered, "I have a better idea. We're going to the other bedroom as soon as he's asleep."

And that's what we did.