Slow hand, p.23
Slow Hand, page 23
Jathan mumbled something that sounded a lot like sadist, but Ford chose to ignore it. He'd fight that battle a different day. "Let's go to your room so we can pick out clothes for you, baby boy."
Hand in hand, he and Thierry walked over to Thierry's room. Or at least, what had been his room and where his clothes were. If they wanted to keep sharing a room, Ford would have to find a solution for that, but that, too, would have to wait for another day.
"Are we going anywhere today, Daddy?" Thierry asked.
Ford ran through his schedule in his head. He had a couple of calls planned but no appointments outside of the house. The weather forecast was crappy, so staying in sounded good to him. "I don't think so, baby boy. Why?"
Thierry held up his firetruck pajamas. "Can I wear these today? For a pajama day?"
Ford smiled. "That's an excellent idea, buddy. Those will be comfortable with your diaper as well."
He turned on the shower. It always took a while for the water to heat up. Thierry walked into the bathroom. "Can you help me do my business, Daddy?"
Ford's heart went all soft and gooey. "It's my pleasure, baby boy. Let Daddy take care of you."
He helped him pee. Then they washed his hands, and by the time they were done, the shower was warm. Ford had noted before that Thierry had no shame about being naked, unlike Jathan, who still wouldn't show himself to Ford.
"Do you want Daddy to wash you, or do you want to do it yourself?"
Thierry looked at him as if he’d asked the dumbest question in the world, and maybe he had. "Daddy, of course."
Ford smiled. “Let me take off my shirt and pants, baby boy, or I’m gonna get all wet.”
He undressed, leaving him bare-chested in his underwear. Was he devious to flaunt his body like that? A little maybe, but hopefully, it would be a nudge in the right direction.
He stepped back into the bathroom, where Thierry stood under the hot water with a look of bliss on his face. Ford washed his hair first, using the baby shampoo he’d bought, which, incidentally, was also good for people with damaged hair and a sensitive scalp, like Thierry. His hair was still recovering from his ordeal, much like the rest of him.
The little sighs and moans Thierry made as Ford massaged his scalp were positively sinful, and Ford regretted his idea of stripping down. He had nowhere to hide his growing erection, so he’d have to face it head on. Har-har.
“That feels so good, Daddy.”
“I’m glad, baby boy. I love taking care of you.”
He rinsed his hair, making sure the dirty water and soap wouldn’t run over his eyes. When he was satisfied his hair was clean, he took a loofah and poured some shower gel onto it. "Step forward, buddy, so Daddy can reach you.”
Thierry did, and his eyes dropped to where Ford’s erection was straining his underwear. He’d gotten wet, making the white cotton see-through, which offered a rather tantalizing view of his cock, if he said so himself.
Thierry swallowed. “Daddy…”
His voice was husky, and it shot straight to Ford’s balls. “Does it bother you?” Ford asked.
Thierry shook his head, his eyes glued to Ford’s cock.
“If you want me to get dressed…”
Thierry shook his head again. “I…I like it,” he whispered, and with all he had, Ford had to fight the urge to kiss him. Small steps.
He scrubbed him down, washing every inch of Thierry's body. Thierry was so sweet and pliant, making these soft sounds of happiness, surrendering to Ford's care. What a level of trust the boy had reached with him already, even when he knew how turned on Ford was. It felt almost sacred to be given this much responsibility.
He looked so much better than he had in the beginning. His body had filled out, rounding in the right places. Even though he could still use a few pounds, his skin was glowing, his hair wasn't as flat and brittle anymore, and Ford didn’t have to be afraid he’d knock him over with one push.
"You're beautiful, baby boy," Ford said, then watched Thierry's eyes go big.
"You think so, Daddy?"
"I do. You’re gorgeous and so cute. I'm proud to be your Daddy."
Thierry beamed. The truth of Ford's own words sank in. He was proud to be his Daddy, to be their Daddy. When had that happened? Jathan might not call him Daddy, and they still had a long way to go before they'd get there, but Ford already derived such joy from taking care of them. They were his. Now all he had to do was show them.
30
Two weeks later, they had established a rhythm. A routine. Jathan hadn't expected himself to appreciate that as much as he did. Ford had kept to his original plan of making them wake up at six thirty. Even though Jathan and Thierry were now sleeping in the same bed, he’d come into their room and wake them up. So much better than a blaring alarm clock. After a few minutes of cuddling—and that was something else Jathan had never thought he'd come to value as much as he did—Jathan would either go down for a workout or shower while Ford did his morning routine with Thierry.
Thierry loved it, starting his day by letting his Daddy take care of him, and Jathan was okay with it. He wasn't jealous, not in the least. How could he be when he saw how much it meant to Thierry? He sunk into his little persona instantly, and the joy radiating from his face was all the confirmation Jathan needed that Thierry had found his kink.
For himself, that wasn't so simple. Ford had tried different things with him, and Jathan had cooperated as much as he could. Ford seemed to understand his initial resistance to anything new, and he reacted with patience when Jathan needed a few minutes to overcome his fears. They had made progress in that area.
He'd grown used to Ford touching him, no longer flinching when the man's hands came at him. Ford had described himself before as a tactile man, and he hadn't been lying. Ford was all about the casual touches, a hand on his shoulder, a quick rub through his hair, cupping his cheek while he was talking to him. It was foreign to Jathan, who had grown up with hardworking parents who had loved him but hadn't communicated that through touch.
Ford had consistently spent time with him one-on-one. Whenever Thierry was taking a nap, Ford would do something with Jathan. They played video games on the Xbox Ford had bought, for example. At first, Jathan had thought it ridiculous, but now he was looking forward to them playing together. They both loved racing games like Forza Horizon, and Jathan had discovered he enjoyed building structures in Minecraft. Ford kept encouraging him to try new games, new projects, new hobbies, and while it still didn't come naturally to him, he explored more new things than ever.
Ford had also installed a basketball hoop above the garage, and he’d made it a habit to play with Jathan every day as long as the weather permitted it. Jathan didn't get what all this had to do with being a Dom or being a Daddy, let alone how this was supposed to help him feel better or some shit, but he loved playing ball with Ford, so it was all good.
Someone taking the time and effort to hang out with him and get to know him was a whole new experience. The more he thought about it—and with Ford asking more and more questions, he was pondering his past a lot more—the more he realized that his parents’ financial troubles had robbed him of a part of his childhood. He’d grown up fast, and losing his parents so shortly one after another, followed by his time with the monster, had fucked him up good in his head.
Ford had explained that could be why Jathan had such trouble believing that Ford loved spending time with him, and he had a point. Not that Jathan would admit it, because admitting things to Ford was dangerous. Jathan had discovered Ford had no qualms about using anything and everything against him. Not in a bad way, not to hurt him, but he employed all tactics to dig a little deeper, to push Jathan in his thinking or to challenge him in whatever way he could come up with.
Not everything was fun and games. Ford had kept to his plan to make Jathan explore different options for further education. He’d been ordered to research various occupations: watch YouTube videos, discover what a typical day looked like, and then write a few lines if it appealed to him and why. He’d thought it boring at first, but the daily conversations with Ford had taught him more about himself. He had a good idea of what he wanted to do, but he hadn’t told Ford yet.
At their request, Ford had set up a meeting with a trauma therapist. They’d have their first appointment in two weeks. Jathan had insisted he and Thierry do it together, that they wouldn’t be separated, and Ford had agreed that seemed best.
The MRI scan had shown he did have a rotator cuff injury, and he’d been prescribed massage and physical therapy. He’d had two sessions with Rhys, and both times, Raf had been there as well so he and Thierry could have a playdate.
When Detective Kempton had contacted them again, he and Thierry had agreed to a longer interview. Ford had driven them to the police station and had been waiting in the waiting room until they were done.
His interview had taken well over two hours, and this time, he’d told them everything. Every single example of what the monster had done to them. Every detail about the beatings, the starving, the mind games he had played. Everything he could remember, that was. He'd told them about people who had seen them with the monster, like Master Conrad and others.
In the beginning, the monster had taken them out of the house occasionally, to certain underground clubs or meetings. After a while, the visits had stopped. Jathan wasn't sure why, but maybe the monster had gotten scared they would either escape or tell someone about the situation they were in. And once he’d isolated them from the outside world, the abuse had worsened.
Thierry had done the same, sharing everything from his point of view. Afterward, Detective Kempton had told them that their accounts matched to a T, which would help in building a case against the monster. Unless he had more questions, that meant they were done, at least until the DA would start preparing for trial. But Detective Kempton had said that the man might take a plea deal and avoid trial, since it didn't seem likely that he'd do well in front of a jury.
As much as Jathan wanted to see him imprisoned for the rest of his life, he hoped the man would take the deal so he’d never have to see him nor talk about it ever again. He wanted to leave all that in the past where it belonged, and focus on the future. And that was the problem. What was his future?
He’d discovered more about what he might want to do in life, but other than that, things were confusing and muddy. Thierry had made progress in becoming a little, but that wasn’t true for Jathan. Ford had played with him but nothing shocking. Jathan wasn't sure what he had expected, but more than Ford making Jathan sit with him, cuddling him, and giving him tasks. Shit like that.
Ford had made him function as a footstool, meaning Jathan had spent a good ten minutes on hands and knees while Ford rested his feet on his back. Weird, not painful but boring. Another time, he’d asked Jathan to rub his feet. Jathan’s cheeks had flamed as he’d massaged them with foot cream. He’d liked that, but he had a sneaky suspicion that was more because he loved touching Ford than because he got a kick out of serving him.
None of it was particularly exciting, though few things bothered him beyond being mildly annoying, and none of them had been sexually charged. That last had piqued Jathan’s curiosity. His sex drive had been all but absent the last year, which wasn’t surprising because hello, survival trumped sex. His body had focused on staying alive and rightfully so. But now that he and Thierry were close again—they’d had sex every day, sometimes twice—he’d started to wonder.
Why hadn’t Ford incorporated anything sexual? Initially, Jathan had only been relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about that. He’d seen Ford as the enemy, a potential predator, and the thought of anything sexual with him hadn’t even entered his mind other than a quick “hell no.” That had changed. It felt like a switch had been flipped because all of a sudden, he couldn’t see Ford like he had before. His body responded to him.
And he'd thought Ford felt the same way. He was giving signals, like the comments he’d made about giving head and about being a switch. But he hadn’t acted on anything, and it threw Jathan for a loop. Thierry had told him that every time Ford helped him shower, he got hard, yet he’d never asked Thierry to do anything about it. Didn’t he want them that way? It didn’t make sense, not with all the signs that Ford was aroused by them.
"Has Ford said anything to you about how long we can stay with him?" Jathan asked Thierry. They’d just woken up, snuggling in bed for a few minutes more before Ford would tell them they had to get up. It was Saturday, so they’d slept in a little.
Thierry shook his head. "No. I know he mentioned once that we could stay with him for now, but he hasn't given more details than that. Why? Has he said anything that makes you think he's tired of us?"
Jathan turned onto his back, and Thierry plastered himself against him. "No, and that's why I’m wondering. We've been here for more than six weeks now, and we're clearly doing better. I mean, we're both still on the skinny side but no longer malnourished, and our health in general has improved. I think we’re ready for reentry into the real world."
Thierry chuckled. "Reentry? Someone has been reading again, I see."
Jathan shrugged. "So sue me for having a broad interest. I read this autobiography of a guy who had grown up in a religious cult and had finally been rescued by law enforcement. That was how his therapist described it, reentry into the real world. She said that his reality had been a fake world, a world with completely different rules, so he needed to learn how to function in real life."
"That makes sense, but we haven't been out of the real world for that long."
"Maybe, but how we’re living now is not the real world either. Neither of us has a job, we don't have any money or income of our own, we have no social life other than meeting Ford's friends, and we seem to be living in limbo. Like, what's the next step? What does Ford expect from us?"
Thierry let out a deep sigh, then was quiet for a while. "I don't like thinking about this," he said. "I know you're right in that we should, but I'm happy, baby. For the first time in forever, I'm truly happy. I'm safe, I'm healthy, and I’m loved."
Jathan frowned. "Loved? You mean by me, right?"
Thierry took his time answering. "Partially. Of course I know you love me, and by the way, our future together is a whole different discussion but one we can park for now."
Jathan's frown intensified. "You're talking about Ford? Are you saying Ford loves us?"
"Can't you tell from everything he does for us? Why would he do that other than out of love?"
"Hold on. Ford is in love with you?"
"I didn't say he was in love. I said he loved us. Love can take many forms. Being in love is one of them. And I wasn't talking about me specifically. I meant us, you and me. He loves us both."
Ford loved them? Jathan processed that thought. Thierry was right that being in love wasn't the same as loving and vice versa, but the idea of Ford loving them was… It made Jathan feel things he hadn't experienced before. Something big and warm in his heart, a weird fluttering in his stomach, and the feeling of being slightly nervous and excited at the same time.
"So, what kind of love are you talking about, then?" he asked.
"I don't know. I think it started as compassion, like you’d feel about people who need your help. And after that, maybe a fondness like you’d feel for family or friends, especially when they're much younger."
Jathan was trying to make sense of what Thierry was saying. "You mean Ford thinks of us like…like his younger brothers. Or like his kids? I mean, he’s pretending to be our Daddy. Not that I call him that, but you do."
Thierry sighed again. "You know, baby, for someone as smart as you, you can say some damn stupid stuff. Of course he doesn't think of us as his kids. That would make our morning cuddles pretty awkward and inappropriate, considering he's always hard as a rock when he's in bed with us."
"Yeah, but he said it himself. You're naked, and he's just a man."
"Yeah, so? You really think that if he felt nothing but platonic love for us, he would react like that?"
"Okay, so it's not a parental love. I'm still not following."
"I've been thinking about it more and more, and my guess is that Ford hasn't realized it himself. He doesn't pretend to be our Daddy, baby. He is our Daddy."
Jathan opened his mouth to answer when the door opened and Ford stepped inside, and that ended their conversation.
They did their usual morning routine where Ford took Thierry downstairs while Jathan got dressed for a workout. He’d hated those exercises at first, but now that he’d done them for three weeks, he’d come to appreciate them. His body was getting stronger.
When he was done with his first round of high-intensity interval training, Ford joined him in the gym downstairs. He’d probably put Thierry in front of the TV to watch cartoons, which he loved.
Jathan studied Ford unobtrusively from the home trainer he was on while Ford was running on the treadmill. Ford was wearing only a pair of tight shorts that hugged his frame, showcasing his body. And a damn fine body it was. He wasn’t ripped like a bodybuilder, but he had muscles in all the right places, an almost six-pack, and an ass to drool over. His legs moved fluidly, his pace steady and even as he ran.
Jathan was wearing a shirt and shorts because he didn’t want Ford to see him, although Thierry kept telling him he was making a problem where there was none. He’d repeatedly stated that Ford wouldn’t care about the scars at all other than being compassionate about them. And as for his other issue? Well, he wouldn’t know until he gave Ford a chance. Thierry was so annoying when he was right.
Ford doing a workout shouldn’t be as sexy as it was, but Jathan could barely prevent himself from drooling, which was a tad ridiculous. Was Thierry right? Did Ford want more with them? Then why hadn’t he initiated anything? It wasn’t like Thierry or Jathan would’ve objected.
