Pick us daddy pride pet.., p.1
Pick Us, Daddy (Pride Pet Play), page 1

Pick Us, Daddy
Pride Pet Play 2023 Series
TL Travis
Sapphire Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2023 by TL Travis
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Published by Sapphire Publishing
Formatting by TL Travis
Cover by: Covers by Jo
https://www.facebook.com/groups/571551797007649
Photographer: Golden Czermak
https://furiousfotog.com/
Cover Model: Kevin R. Davis
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Trigger warning:
There is a scene where one of the MCs recounts an act of abuse that resulted in sexual assault to the police. It is brief with minimal details, but if that is a trigger for you, please don’t read this book. Your mental health is far more important to me.
Dedication:
To all my zany friends out there – let your freak flags fly!
I know I have and I've never been happier 😘
What makes us unique is what sets us apart from the rest.
Stay true to you.
Love,
TL
Pick Us, Daddy is part of the Pride Pet Play 2023 multi-author series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why not check them all out? If you like playful pets who are sometimes naughty, Pride parades, and Daddies who love their boys unconditionally you’ll fall in love with our pack!
Blurb
Being in love with your best friend isn’t recommended.
Especially when you both prefer to let someone else take control. We knew we were meant to be together, with another, and both had dreams of the perfect Daddy who’d want us both, though he hadn’t come along yet.
Riya Cox and Stefan Pierce’s friendship didn’t start out the conventional way. Nope. It happened when Stefan stepped in after a wanna be handler attempted to coerce Riya into something he didn’t want. When he raised his hand to strike Riya, Stefan jumped in and nearly ripped it off. Needless to say, they were banned from that club.
Jonovan Duarte was tired of boys donning masks they weren’t meant to wear, used only to appease wealthy Daddies. Was honesty a virtue no longer possessed? Boys would come and go, each having the same goal—to max out his credit cards. With debt gone, along with the sugar babies Jonovan returned to the scene only to go home empty handed. Was it time to call it quits and accept that fate had no match for him?
Contents
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Epilogue
About the Author
Other books by TL Travis
Chapter One
Jonovan
“Well, that was a bust,” I sighed heavily and mumbled loud enough my friend Steve could hear me. He’d been trying his best to help me find a new pup since the last one crashed and burned, maxing out my credit cards along the way. Damn, I was a fool for that boy, and he fucking knew it. Six months later, Stellan and his new beau were off on the trip of our dreams, and I footed the bill for it. Wasn’t until my credit card company alerted me that I neared my limit that I knew something was wrong. I’m disputing the charges, well, on all but the room since it was my dumbass that booked it then selectively forgot to cancel after Stellan moved out. But fucking hell, would the betrayal always hurt this much?
“Come on, Jonovan,” Steve said as he nudged my shoulder with his. “Let’s hit the diner, my treat.”
We’d both been members of the Blue Underground, a local BDSM club, for several years now. While Steve preferred to play with those only desiring an occasional scene as opposed to having their own handler, I on the other hand was a serial monogamist. Nurture and guidance were my game. Building a solid foundation with goals toward a long-lasting relationship.
Forever the fool I was.
“Why does it have to be so hard?” I asked aloud though to no one in particular, but Steve stood beside me and as soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. Didn’t take long for the twelve-year-old boy in him to surface.
“That's what he said,” Steve laughed at his own joke. “I'm a funny fucker.”
“Hardy, har, har. What are we, twelve?” I chided, though my words held no weight. Hell, I wanted to laugh at his stupid antics myself yet somehow refrained.
“Maaayyybbbeee,” he drew the word out. “Come on, I'm hungry.”
“Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?” we heard one of the handlers say. I loved to come watch during pet playtimes, though I longed for one of my own again. I couldn’t decide if doing this sated me, albeit temporarily, or if I was a sadist and enjoyed the painful reminder that I was alone. But this was one of my favorite times and on days like today where work was beyond stressful, watching the pets play tended to brighten it.
Steve smirked as he stood beside me. “That guy is wasting his time.”
“What’s their story?” I asked because it sounded like Steve knew more.
“No clue. They’re new and the puppy won’t let anyone near his kitten. If I were that guy I'd back off and quit trying. He’s wasting his time,” Steve repeated.
I turned and watched the awkward interaction while Steve walked ahead of me toward the front exit. Sure enough, as the guy neared, the puppy lurched and nearly nipped his arm.
“Bad dog,” the guy scolded, though the puppy showed no remorse. In fact, the pup’s growl grew louder, and I nearly stepped between him and the handler in the pet’s defense. If he’d have raised his hand to the pup, I wouldn’t have thought twice about knocking him on his ass.
“You'll never get anywhere with them,” another handler in the arena said to him. “Those two come together and those two leave together and nobody ever goes with them. I have yet to see that pup let anyone near his kitty.” My eyes followed his gesture over to the corner where the kitty in question was half curled up, mid back arched like it wasn't sure if it wanted to fight or flee. My heart went out to the scared feline, whatever happened to him in the past was clearly traumatic.
“Why do they come here then? I don't understand. I heard they were kicked out of several other clubs for this shit,” said the idiot scolding the pup for bad behavior versus taking the time to be a true handler and learn more about them before he jumped into the deep end. Handler rule number one, get to know your pets first before you take the reins.
“Who knows,” the guy who butted in said with a shrug. “I found a couple over here willing to play. Let’s go.” As soon as they were a good distance away, the puppy returned to his kitty and nudged him with his nose. The kitty circled a couple of times then curled up in a ball as the puppy protectively lay in front of him. Not having ever witnessed such an act, at least not during playtime, it both intrigued and brought forth my protective Daddy side. The carpet squares beneath them did nothing for their bare knees. My mind whirled with the proper gear they needed, the mental shopping cart filled as I got ahead of myself. I was one who tended to overdo where my boys were concerned and though these two didn’t belong to me, the urge to take care of them was heavy.
“Jonovan, I'm starving. Let's go,” Steve whined from the doorway, still dressed in the suit he wore to work today. The damn man was nowhere near starving and yet he chose to act like a child.
I glimpsed the puppy in question, he cocked his head to the side and eyed me. Were his floppy ears burning as he gauged my next move? Or was he merely curious about the stranger equally as enthralled with him and his…friend? Partner? They would be an anomaly for sure if they were in a relationship without a Dom/Daddy. Our sharp gazes remained laser focused on one another, daring the other to make the first move. Would he allow me near them? Or only close to him? Would he lash out and try to bite me? No, now was not the time to broach that. It was best to leave things as they were and speak with Artesia, the owner of the Blue Underground, first. She may have insight into their dynamic. Plus, I needed to get to her before those two guys the pup just had the negative interaction with had a chance to complain. There was definitely something more going on and the overwhelming desire to get to the bottom of it grew with each passing moment.
Before Steve had a chance to whine again, I nodded to the pup, letting him know he had been noticed but I was leaving so it was okay to stand down. His kitty was safe.
My thoughts never strayed the entire drive to the restaurant, albeit it wasn't that far. But I’d not witnessed such an act before as I had with those two. Curiosity wasn't really the way to explain the desire, more like I was interested in the role of therapy Daddy. To draw them from their shells and show them that not everybody was the big bad wolf and although I didn't know if that were the case, instinct led me to believe I was right—they had been hurt in the past. At least the kitty had been, or so I assumed and generally when I went with my gut, it was always right. Well, at least about everything but winning lottery tickets, it would appear. I had an uncanny knack for being spot on when it came to things that were negative and just once I'd like to be right about something that was positive. Hint, hint, lottery gods, how about that winning ticket?
Steve beat me to the restaurant and checked in to a twenty-five-minute wait. Neither of us paid much attention to the clock or the fact that it was the latter half of the dinner rush time. He typed away on his phone while my thoughts remained focused on the boys.
“What gives?” Steve asked as soon as we'd given the waitress our orders.
“What do you mean what gives? What are you talking about?” I asked, though I already knew where this was headed.
“I saw you watching those two. After the negative interaction with the puppy, I'm sure those guys will complain to Artesia. They’ll be booted out after that. I have to say, I haven't seen you this intrigued with a pet for quite some time, and I know you well, my friend,” he pointed his fork at me. “What's that devious little mind of yours plotting?’
“Devious? I don't have a devious bone in my body,” I scoffed.
“No, but you do get bored easily,” Steve pointed out. I wish he hadn't. “It’s obvious those two require a full-time handler, someone in it for the long haul who will be able to pull the proverbial bone out of that puppy's ass. You work long hours, Jonovan. Do you have the time it will take to devote to them? Plus, what if they’re an established couple? And if so, why would they go to a club to play instead of doing it at home?”
“There's something more going on here, Steve, and I’m interested to find out. And as you pointed out, if those guys complained to Artesia, I won’t get the chance to. I’ll reach out to her and try to stall, buy some time,” I shared my thoughts aloud. “They could be a couple but, ugh, I’m not even sure what.”
“You looking for a challenge or something, big guy?” He laughed. “’Cause you’re about to open Pandora’s box of pet play nightmares and I hope you’re ready for it.”
“You know, I don't want to call it a challenge, though I'm always up for one. These are humans we’re talking about and to label it as such feels cold and uncaring. I won’t deny there is something about them that spoke to me in a way I can't explain. Almost like they needed me on this bone deep level. Who knows,” I said as I tossed my napkin down. “I'm no therapist but I would like to see if I could be what they need.”
“Spoken like the true Daddy you are,” Steve smirked. “Go get your boys.”
They weren’t my boys, though I couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through me at Steve’s words. As I got home, I shot off an e-mail to Artesia that recapped what I’d witnessed and let her know I'd like the opportunity to work with them if they were in fact looking for a handler. I didn't expect a return response at this late hour, but I could not get those two off my mind and I had to at least take a step forward or I’d forever wonder if I missed a golden opportunity. Maybe I wasn’t the right Daddy for them, but at the very least I could possibly help them with whatever problem they had so they could find the right handler. Although I didn't know for certain if they were a romantic couple or just friends, for my own sense of peace I needed to find out.
Showered and with the house locked up, I slid into bed and grabbed my iPad, giving my work emails one last check before I called it a night. I wasn’t the workaholic I once was but being the owner of a maintenance company made it a hard habit to break. In the beginning I was a solo tech, branching out on my own. Wrench in hand and a smile on my face, I literally went to the neighbors then branched out into the commercial realm, selling my abilities. Many jobs I did for free—word of mouth was everything in this industry—and from that my client base was established. I'd never forget those days, twenty years ago, though it felt like yesterday. My body now had the aches and pains to match the long, hard hours I’d put in.
In the beginning, I worked out of my parents’ house while I took night classes at the community college in business management. For as long as I could remember, I would tinker away. My dad taught me everything I knew and although he was retired now, I still ran industry anomalies past him. Dad thrived on challenges and for me to get to the heart of what made something tick held the same value. Even if I thought I knew the answer I still wanted Dad’s opinion. Between the two of us we could pretty much figure out how to fix damn near anything. Facilities. Once it's in your veins it stays. Hell, I couldn’t go to a restaurant without mentally picking it apart. When was the last time they had their air filters changed? Is that mold on the restroom ceiling? And OSHA violations, don’t even get me started.
Although in the day-to-day business aspects, I wasn't hands-on anymore—I left that to my team of capable mobile techs—I still had an itch to scratch and would get the old tool belt out. Duarte Maintenance Solutions covered a territory of four states in the southwest and my office staff managed everything else. They didn’t need me for the daily operations, but being the control freak that I was it was difficult to relinquish the reins.
I just needed something more in my life, or someone to occupy my time with. Then I could slowly phase out and stop driving my staff insane.
I lived a comfortable life. I bought my house as a fixer upper fifteen years ago. Dad and I along with a couple of my lead techs fixed it up, although it wasn't as fast as it sounds, and it nearly drained my savings. Start to finish, it took over a year to complete but I loved the old house. It had great bones, was ugly as sin when I found her but now, she was the belle of Beacon Street and I loved it. One of the wisest investments I’d made to date was now worth so much more than what I’d originally paid.
I reached over to shut off the light on the nightstand when my e-mail notification pinged. I was surprised to see a return email from Artesia at this late hour.
Jonovan,
As you know, I'm not at liberty to share information on any of our club’s members, though I will let you know that those two come with a gentle word of warning. If you sincerely want to meet with them, I can reach out and see if they're interested.
You’ve taken on some tough boys in the past and things always ended amicably. You’ve caused no problems and I’m appreciative of that. I too am curious to find the root cause for these boys’ reactions. Usually, it’s a Dom that gets ejected from a club and rightfully so, but pets? Something doesn’t add up here and I hope these boys agree to meet with you. If anyone can get through to them, it’s you. We’ll talk soon.
Until then,
Artesia
“Well,” I said to my beloved boxer, Titus, “that's a start, boy. Now all we can do is wait for them to make the next move.” He curled up beside me, his head didn't so much as hit the bed before he was snoring. And dear God, the flatulence. It's a damn good thing I loved that smushy face as much as I did. That boy smelled like he was rotting from the inside out. The urge to hang one of those pine tree fresheners from his nubby tail was strong, though I'm sure once it got bouncing around, he'd launch it across the room. I sighed, resigned to the fact my sinuses would never be the same. “Goodnight, my stinky pup. I love you.”



