Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 33048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
I’m aware some Littles find someone to sponsor them so they can go visit or experience the deeply regressed lifestyle, but I’ve never been brave enough to try that out. What if the Daddy and I didn’t get along?
Noah turns toward me. “Have you ever thought about going there, Little one?”
I nod slowly.
He smiles and strokes my cheek. “Maybe you would consider visiting with me?”
I stop breathing. He’s only been here a few minutes. I can’t believe he’s suggested something like that. It would be a dream. I feel like I’m dreaming.
“Let’s start with chicken nuggets, and then maybe you can invite me to your party.” He lifts a brow.
“Yes, Sir.” My confidence is building. Noah has shown no indication he is unnerved by my lifestyle. I remind myself he really shouldn’t be bothered since he lives parttime on the island. “Why don’t you have a Little girl of your own?” I ask, skipping along beside him on the way to the kitchen.
“I haven’t found the right Little girl yet.” He surprises me when he grabs me by the hips and lifts me onto one of my kitchen chairs as if I couldn’t have done it by myself.
I giggle. It feels good to laugh. It feels good to let myself be free with him. He’s so handsome and so broad and tall that he makes me feel tiny even though I’m not nearly that small. I’m five-six, which is pretty average for a woman, but he’s like six-four, almost a foot taller than me.
As he reaches for the bag of fast food he brought, he glances at me. “Also, I’ve been traveling back and forth between the island and the mainland a lot. That’s a hard life for a Little girl. She would have to go with me every time.”
“Why couldn’t she stay on the island?”
He pulls out a small cardboard box, opens it, and sets it in front of me. It has chicken nuggets in it. “Littles do not stay alone on the island. They live a twenty-four-seven regressed lifestyle. They’re never left unattended.”
He holds up a few sauces. “I wasn’t sure what sauce you might like, so I grabbed three different ones.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Sauces are yucky.”
“Noted.”
I scoot forward on my seat, letting my legs swing. “Littles are never unattended?” That seems unattainable.
“Nope. Never.”
“What happens when their Daddy goes to work?”
“They go to daycare.”
“Oh…”
He hands me a carton of fries and takes a seat next to me. “Catsup?”
I shake my head.
“You eat all your foods without sauces, huh?”
“Yep. I’m kind of picky.” I don’t tell him exactly how picky I am. I rarely tell anyone that.
Noah sets a cup in front of me with a straw. “I got you lemon-lime soda. Is that okay?”
I grin. “It’s my favorite.” It’s the only soda I drink.
“That’s a relief.” He winks at me before pulling out a hamburger for himself and taking a huge bite, chewing and swallowing before he reaches for his soda.
“My friend Lacey moved to the island recently to be with her Daddy.”
“I know. Brian is one of my friends. He used to stay at my apartment here on the mainland when he visited. He was interested in Lacey for a long time before she finally really noticed him.”
“Yeah. She was too shy to really talk to Daddies. I’m so glad they finally got together. I don’t think she had a good home life.”
“She certainly did not. I’ve heard about her situation from Brian.”
I pick on one of my nuggets. “I hope she’s happy and safe now.”
He sets a hand on top of mine. “She’s very safe, Little one, and, from what I’ve seen, thriving and so happy.”
I smile. “Good. She’s a nice girl.”
“What about you? Do you think you’d thrive on the island?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have a Daddy to take me there.”
“What if you did?”
I nibble on the corner of my nugget. “That would be heavenly,” I whisper without looking up. It would be like a dream come true.
“You could certainly keep your job as a muralist if you wanted. Would you miss your waitressing job?”
I lift my gaze to meet his, scrunching up my face so tight it makes him laugh.
“I guess that’s a no.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who said they loved waitressing so much they hoped they could do it forever,” I joke. In a sing-songy voice I add, “Oh, I just love sore feet and swollen ankles. And the pay is to die for. And all the customers are so kind and friendly.”
He laughs so hard his body shakes. “Good point.” He eats another gigantic bite of his burger before pointing at the nugget in my hand. “How many bites does it take to eat a chicken nugget?” he teases.
I meet his gaze as I take another teeny tiny bite out of it.