“Yeah.”
“Why, Little one? Why don’t you indulge at home sometimes?”
I shrug. “I’ve always just thought of my Little side as a kink I fulfill for fun at the club, not a lifestyle. Not for me at least. I’ve never dreamed of having an actual Daddy.”
He reaches over and sets his hand on my thigh. God, I love it when he does that. It’s so possessive. At least it is in my head. “I bet there are millions of Littles who practice age play of some sort alone in their homes.”
I shrug. “I just haven’t.” I can’t explain it. I guess I’ve mostly been worried that someone would catch me playing and discover my secret. I’d be mortified if a delivery guy or salesman saw me playing through the window.
“Is it something you’d like to do, Sophia?” he asks gently.
I turn my face toward him. “I don’t know, Sir. I’m learning. Maybe.” That’s the truth. Until Layla called to set me up with Tate, I had never considered the idea of exploring beyond fake scenes at the club. It seemed farfetched.
By the time we get to my house, I’m a ball of lusty nerves from Tate stroking my inner thigh again. Apparently I havea sweet spot, and he’s found it. If he knows, he doesn’t say anything.
He parks in my driveway and jogs around the car to lift me out. After grabbing my bag from the back seat, he guides me to my front door with a palm at the small of my back. His gestures don’t go unnoticed. I love it when he touches me.
I fumble for my key in the outside pocket of my bag that’s still slung over Tate’s shoulder. When I pull out the key, he takes it from me and unlocks my door.
As soon as he opens it, he reaches in and turns on the lights. “You should leave lights on inside when you’re out at night, Sophia. It’s not safe to walk into a dark house.”
I stare at him, biting my lips. The adult in me wants to tell him to mind his own business. The Little in me is still in control, though, and she loves how bossy he is. Of course she does.
“Let me take a look around, Little one. Wait here.” He leaves me right inside the entrance and takes off toward my small hallway. There are only two rooms and a bathroom. It’s not really a hall at all.
He’s back in five seconds. “What a cute place, Sophia.” He’s smiling again. “I feel like I know you better already.” He locks the front door behind me. He must have set my bag in the bedroom because it’s gone now.
“What do you know about me from ten seconds in my house?” I challenge. I’m curious what my home says about me.
“I know that you love books, both paperbacks and ebooks.”
I gasp. “How can you tell I read ebooks?”
“There’s an e-reader by your bed, silly Little girl.”
I giggle. “What else?”
“Blue isn’t just a hair color. It’s really your only color.”
I giggle again. He’s right. “What else?” I challenge.
He faces me, takes both my hands in his, and lifts my knuckles to his cheeks. “Your Little isn’t nearly as hidden as you think she is.”
I gasp.She’s not?I look around, trying to imagine what I own that would make someone suspect I’m Little.
“Don’t worry, Little one. Only a seasoned Daddy would see the signs.”
“What signs?”
“There’s a much-loved small blankie on your bed. There’s a cartoon toothbrush in a matching holder in the bathroom.”
“Lots of people have blankies and silly toothbrushes,” I argue.
“Mmm. Do they have colored bath beads and bath crayons?” His smile reaches his eyes.
I’m surprised by how observant he is. “Sure they do. How else would they take notes when things pop into their head while they’re in the shower?”
He laughs hard, his head tipping back and his palm coming to his stomach.
