by Maren Smith
Then pieces began to fall into place. I remembered swiping the pacifier off the swag table after getting drafted and jokingly handing it to Ryder when I got back to school, telling him not to cry that I was leaving. He’d rolled his eyes and chucked it on his dresser, and I’d forgotten about it completely until that moment.
What I didn’t understand was why Ryder still had it and why it was in his mouth. I’d ask him when he woke up, but for the time being, all I wanted to do was hold my husband while he slept the aches of practice away.
Chapter Two
Ryder
The world came back to me slowly. I’d been annoyed that Malcolm had made me go to the bed when I’d fallen asleep on the couch, but he’d been right to make sure I went to our room. Had I stayed asleep on the couch, I would have woken up well before I felt rested.
I sucked on the pacifier between my lips instinctively and felt a sense of calm wash over me. Malcolm might have given it to me as a joke, but it was one of the first things he’d ever given me. I’d originally forgotten all about it, but when Malcolm had moved away for the first time and I’d found it as I unpacked my dorm box into my new room—a room missing my boyfriend—it had become a cherished item. Then, one night, as I’d tossed and turned, I’d grabbed it and held it in my hand as I drifted off to sleep. From that moment on, it had become something I held when I couldn’t sleep.
I took it on the road and even home the few times I visited my family. The only time I didn’t hold it was when Malcolm was with me. Then one morning, right before my own draft day, I’d woken up with it in my mouth. I’d been shocked and couldn’t figure out how it had made it there. At first, I’d thought it was a fluke, but more often than not, it started finding its way into my mouth as I slept. After a few years, I got comfortable enough to put it in before I fell asleep.
Since Malcolm and I had come out and moved into our own place, I rarely used it. I had a much better substitute for it, but I always knew right where it was. Besides, how could I even begin to explain to my husband that the pacifier was comforting when he wasn’t around? Which is why it stayed hidden away in my nightstand drawer, and I rarely took it out. Except, once he’d taken me to bed, covered me up, and kissed me goodbye, I wanted him. I kept reaching for him on his side of the bed only to find it empty and it had been keeping me awake. Once I accepted that I would not be sleeping without something, I fished through my nightstand drawer until my fingers found the comically small pacifier, and I shoved it into my mouth.
Now that I’d woken up, I was going to take a few minutes to myself before I tucked it back into the drawer and got ready for Malcolm to arrive home. I let myself suck slowly. For some reason, the movement had become soothing in a way nothing else was. The world was sharpening into focus when fingers ran through my messy hair, and I became aware there was another person in bed with me.
My mouth opened, and the pacifier fell out, so I shoved it under the pillow. Could I be lucky enough that Malcolm missed it?
Fuck, I was an idiot.
He pulled the covers up over me and pulled me close, holding me to him until my body relaxed. Malcolm’s lips kissed my shoulder gently. “Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.”
I groaned, my body reacting to his closeness, forgetting all about my embarrassment from a moment before.
“Feel better after your nap?”
“Mmm. Home early?” Sleep felt far away after the shock I’d had upon waking up, but the part of my brain that controlled speech was still fighting to come back online.
“Yeah. The meeting didn’t last as long as I expected it to. I got home about an hour ago. You looked so sweet, I couldn’t resist joining you.”
Sweet? I looked sweet? He must have seen the pacifier. In the decade we’d been together, Malcolm had never called me sweet.
A large hand came out and brushed my hair away from my face. “Ry, honey, you’re blushing to your shoulders.”
Awesome. Even my hair wouldn’t have hidden my embarrassment. I burrowed into the blankets, pulling them up to my ears, and hiding my face in my pillow. Finding a bed large enough for two NFL players hadn’t been easy, but the upside was that the blankets and pillows provided ample space to hide in. I did not want to talk about my pacifier. The pacifier that my hand had found and had somehow made its way to my mouth, the nipple tempting my lips open. Fuck. My. Life.
I felt Malcolm trying to suppress laughter as his chest vibrated against my back. “Can we talk about it?”
I shook my head.
“What if I said it’s cute?”
“I don’t want to be cute,” I groaned into the blanket I was hiding under. Of course, as soon as my mouth was open, my hand took the opportunity to push the pacifier in. Maybe I was more attached to the thing than I’d realized. It took more effort than it should have to force myself to pull it out. The last thing I needed was for Malcolm to think I needed it or wanted it more than just in bed when he wasn’t around.
It wasn’t a surprise that Malcolm was more patient than my air supply. I hated having my face covered, so as soon as it got too hot under the blanket, I had to come out for fresh air. Once my head popped out from the blanket, I saw my husband’s face smiling down at me from where he’d propped himself up. “There’s my gorgeous green-eyed man.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me.” He kissed my forehead, then my nose, and eventually my lips before he pulled away far too soon for my liking. Malcolm pushed himself up so his back was against the headboard, then pulled me up to rest against his side. He might have a bum knee, but he was still able to lift me with frightening ease. I made sure the pacifier was hidden in my hand. At least it was small, and my hand easily closed completely around it.
Undeterred, Malcolm tapped my fist that was hiding the pacifier. “I completely forgot about that.”
As it should have been. My cheeks actually hurt from the burn of embarrassment that spread across them.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” He didn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounded hurt that I’d hidden it from him.
“Because it’s stupid.”
He pulled me even closer. “Does it feel stupid to you?”
I almost nodded, but I stopped myself. Yes, talking about the damn pacifier made me feel stupid, but when Malcolm wasn’t there and I reached for it, it made me feel close to him. In those moments, it didn’t feel stupid at all. “Do you mean do I feel stupid right now? Then yes, I do.”
He kissed the side of my head. “You’re not stupid. Maybe embarrassed and nervous, but you’re far from stupid. You helped me pass differential equations when you were a freshman. I wouldn’t have graduated without you.”
“It reminds me of you.” I sounded unsure, even to my ears, but it felt good to tell him.
Thankfully, Malcolm kept any humor out of his voice. If he would have laughed at me right then, I would probably have fallen apart. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing since I got it for you and all.”
I pushed at his chest, not able to control the laughter that bubbled out of me. “Smart ass.”
He kissed my temple. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have at least bought you a new one in the last nine years. That thing has to be shot.”
For the last year, I had been noticing that the silicone was starting to wear out, but I hadn’t used it much since we’d gotten married. It was something that I knew would eventually have to be addressed, but I’d ignored it. “I haven’t been using it the entire time, and I don’t use it all the time.”
Malcolm’s hand rubbed up and down my arm as he thought. “But you like it?”
That was a much harder question to answer, though my brain responded without my input because I nodded. Fuck, I was going to have to talk about it now. “At first, I just held it because it was something you’d given me. Then at some point, it started finding its way into my mouth at night. I was really uncomfortable talking about it, but I couldn’t help it. I liked the… the… it
because it made me feel close to you when you weren’t there.” The entire thing sounded ridiculous.
Malcolm didn’t seem to notice. “I hated not being there with you all those years.”
“Then one night, I was lying there, and I pushed it into my mouth before I fell asleep. It felt good.”
Malcolm was quiet for a moment. Was he judging? Thinking? Internally freaking out? I knew I’d be doing the latter if I were in his shoes. “Why don’t you use it when I’m around.”
“Because I have you.” Duh.
“If I had known about it, would you have used it around me?”
I shrugged. The thought had never crossed my mind. Sure, there were some nights that I’d known the rhythmic sucking would have put me to sleep in seconds. There had even been a few times where I’d gotten stressed and thought it would be nice to have it, but I’d never given it serious thought. What struck me most was that I couldn’t tell him, without a doubt, I wouldn’t have used it if he’d known. When I seriously analyzed my feelings on it, I might have been inclined to use it more than just in bed if I’d have known it didn’t bother him.
Malcolm must have known I didn’t have an answer because he hugged me again before he relaxed his hold. “Come on, Ry. Let’s go find food. You’ve got to be starving.”
I glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that, between the nap and our discussion, I’d lost nearly four hours of the afternoon. I wanted to be frustrated with myself. There was so much I could have done in that time: made dinner for us, done some laundry, gone for a jog, hell even taken time to play a video game since I wasn’t going to have downtime for another five months once the season started.
I sighed, annoyed at not having better answers for Malcolm, and climbed out of the bed. On my way to the dresser to find a pair of pants, I dropped the pacifier back into the nightstand drawer and shut it. Part of me wondered if I’d use it again now that Malcolm knew. The embarrassment that swirled inside me had me ready to try to forget it but below that was a sadness I hadn’t expected to feel at the thought of not having it again.
Dammit, I really did like it.
The sigh that escaped as I dressed was one of resignation. It was past time to put the stupid thing away. I left the room, feeling a little wobbly. The feeling reminded me of how I’d felt when I’d decided I was too old to sleep with a blanket when I’d been in middle school. It felt like my world was out of sorts, and I knew it was ridiculous to feel that way, but I couldn’t seem to help it. What I did know is that I’d feel absolutely idiotic using a pacifier around my husband, and I couldn’t imagine him ever looking at me the same way again if he saw me reach for it. Hell, part of me wondered how he was even able to look at me after catching me with it this afternoon.
Chapter Three
Malcolm
Ryder was so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed me watching him. My curiosity had gotten the better of me because I couldn’t imagine the pacifier being in decent shape after a decade. Even if he hadn’t used it all the time, a pacifier was only meant to last a few months.
After I’d heard him clomp down the steps, I slid the drawer open and found it at the back. I felt guilty going through Ryder’s stuff—I’d never done it before—but something about the way he’d looked as he put the pacifier away tugged at something inside me and continued to nag at me.
One glance at the pacifier and I knew why my conscience wouldn’t let me drop it. It desperately needed to be replaced. No parent would have let their child use it. Hell, I didn’t feel right letting my husband use it. I saw stress marks in the silicone that I assumed were made from years of sucking on it. Despite what Ryder said, he had used it. Frequently.
I barked out a laugh as I wondered if they made wolf pacifiers in adult sizes. I almost put it back, then I remembered how broken Ryder had looked as he’d left the room. His nonanswer about if he would have used it more had I known about it spoke louder than the few words he’d actually managed to spit out about it. I didn’t want to be the reason Ryder gave up something that brought him comfort, and while he might be able to fool himself that it wasn’t all that important, he couldn’t fool me. I pocketed it and left the room.
When I made it to the kitchen, Ryder was sitting on the island, a plate in his lap with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on it. His eating habits drove the team nutritionist up a wall. She’d even yelled at me about enforcing his diet at home, but I had a strict rule that I left coaching at the stadium. As a coach, I might have wanted to smack him for eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and… wait. Were those Fruit Loops? As his husband, I wanted to ask if he wanted me to make him a brownie with ice cream and whipped cream to make him smile again.
Ryder was normally energetic and smiling, and the deep sadness in his eyes made me want to give him the world. Or maybe just his pacifier.
I stood across from him, leaning against our granite countertop. “How do pancakes sound for dinner?” If anything could make Ryder smile, it was carbs.
Ryder’s eyes met mine, and he shrugged. My heart broke a little for him. Was this really all over the pacifier? I’d buy him every wolf pacifier in the store if it would put a smile back on his face.
I stepped into his space and took his plate from him, and he deflated further. “Come on. If you’re going to eat Fruit Loops, you should at least have milk. And company.”
“Wait, you’re not taking my food away?”
My stomach growled when I smelled the sweet cereal. “Hell no. I’m not taking it away, but I am going to get you an actual bowl and some milk, then I’m going to make myself a bowl too.” I placed his plate on the table and went back to the kitchen to grab the bowls. I held my hand out to him and helped him down from the counter. “Love you,” I whispered as I placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
A smile danced across his mouth. “Love you too.” The smile fell almost as quickly as it had appeared, and my heart broke a bit more.
“Go sit down. I’ll bring you a bowl.” I looked at the small amount of cereal Ryder had put on his plate. “If Shay’s going to scream at you, at least make it worth it.” That statement got a laugh from him, and in a few minutes, we were both digging into large bowls of artificially colored, sugary cereal.
By the time we were done with our snack, Ryder seemed more like himself. I cleared the bowls, and he headed off to the living room to play video games. I stuffed the bowls and Ryder’s plate into the dishwasher, then grabbed my tablet off the charger on the counter. I had research to do.
Ryder was engrossed in the game he was playing and didn’t notice that I’d joined him in the living room. I’d begun by looking for a new pacifier with the wolf logo on it. I found one on amazon quickly enough and ordered it. Then I typed in the words “adult pacifier” into the browser search bar, and forgot all about Ryder on the other side of the couch. Thousands of results populated in milliseconds. Not what I’d been expecting.
Maybe I’d taken one too many hits to the head during my playing days, but it admittedly took me too long to put together that where there was a vast supply, there must also be a vast demand. It wasn’t until I’d ordered two dark blue pacifiers with wolf heads on them from a shop that made custom pacifiers, that the thought occurred to me.
That was the point in the evening when my research took a turn for the crazy. I clicked on one of the social media links on the site where I’d found the pacifiers and was suddenly introduced to a world I had never known existed. The first post was a picture of one of the site’s customers, their pacifier clipped to the shirt they were wearing and a visible diaper. My eyes hurt from staring hard at the image before I started to scroll through the page.
The feed was full of post after post of adults showing off their pacifiers. Almost every picture showed men and women in childish clothes, often times with visible diapers, and I was confused. Then I found a post that showed a pacifier with the words, “Look what Daddy bought me!” Sure, I’d heard the term Daddy in the past—it was
hard to go to a gay club and not hear the term—but I’d never known it was used in this sense. I needed to learn more.
I spent the better part of two hours going further and further down a rabbit hole, learning about Daddies and littles and the Daddy/little lifestyle. Occasionally, I’d study Ryder while he played his game and try to picture him as one of the boys. Those thoughts led me to question if I could see myself in the Daddy role. The most jarring part of the entire exploration was that the answer was yes. To both.
A loud sigh from Ryder pulled me out of my research. He was still playing his game, but I could tell his mind wasn’t really on it anymore. “Hey, Ry, at the end of this round, why don’t you come over here and we can pick out some place to order dinner from?”
Ryder turned the game off midway through whatever he’d been doing and headed over to me. He settled himself against my side, just like he loved to. He swore it was the most comfortable place to be. His eyebrows pulled downward and his bottom lip stuck out. “I thought you said you’d make pancakes?”
Two hours earlier, I wouldn’t have thought twice about his pout. It was just Ryder being Ryder. After my time on the internet, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it. I could already hear Shay throwing a fit as I responded, “Do you want me to make pancakes, or do you want me to order them?” I wasn’t picky. Pancakes weren’t my favorite food. If we ordered dinner, I could order something different for myself.
Ryder’s face lit up. “Your pancakes are my favorite.”
Only because I put chocolate chips in them. “Okay.” Shay was going to have my balls.
Ryder leaned up and kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”
I didn’t need balls that badly.
The interaction was like countless exchanges we’d had before. Nothing was different about our relationship, except my research now had me questioning everything. Did Ryder know about littles? Was Ryder a little? What if he was? Would it change how I felt about him? Would it change the way I saw our relationship? The answer to the last two questions were easy. Nothing could change how much I loved my husband. The other questions were harder to answer, and I didn’t know if I was ready to ask them. Asking would open the door to a conversation we didn’t have time to have that evening.
