Page 43

Wow. I feel more rested than that.

Quietly, I murmur, “Thanks.”

Kris hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t let his previous question drop. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, mostly. Refreshed.” I sigh, adding, “And really fucking embarrassed.”

Instead of reminding me that I usually like feeling that way, he squeezes me tightly against him. “I’m not surprised. Tonight wasa lot for you, I’m sure.” I nod, and I get another little squeeze from him. “Did I overstep? We didn’t really get to negotiate anything, and I know you’re not usually super little like that, so please tell me if anything I said or did made you uncomfortable.”

“Anythingyousaid or did?” I ask, the idea of it so laughable and shocking that I finally pull away from his warm, cuddly body to stare up at him incredulously. “You were the perfect Daddy.” Under my breath, I tack on a muttered, “As always.”

I’m still not entirely sure how he got here. Here, as in The Grove, I mean. It feels like a cosmic joke that I have been cursing myself for running away from the first Daddy to really get me…only to find him right under my nose again. The very thought that he’s been living in the same city as me for gods-only-know how long…

Jesus.

Way to taunt me, universe.

It’s unfair. Unfair that he’s so amazing, and kind, and sweet, and into the same kinks as me. Unfair that he’s right here, giving me another taste of something I can’t let myself want. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve him.

As it is, my friendship with Anson and his circle is probably over now, too, seeing as I have once again proven that I’m too annoying and high maintenance. Anson will probably think I’m a diva for yelling at his Daddy, too…and I can’t say he’d be wrong. Drake just wanted to help me, after all. Instead, they’ll probably think I was too proud to let him, or too bitchy, or too…something.

And that’s without going into the fact that I had zero control over my headspace earlier tonight. Who the fuck does that even happen to? I’m an adult, for fuck’s sake. I should be able to control when I want to regress. I should certainly be able to control my bladder in bigger headspaces, too.

So, yeah. I’m a hot mess, and I’m better off on my own in all ways. I can’t allow myself to want a Daddy of my own, or even friends. I ruin everything for other people.

But it sucks to know that. And it sucks even more when I’m being teased by how awesome Kristian is as a Daddy.

Imagine having access to cuddles like this all the time…

I have to shake that thought off. It’s not a helpful one. Far from it.

Oblivious, Kris asks, “The perfect Daddy, huh? So there’s nothing you would have wanted me to do differently? Nothing you felt was missing from our impromptu scenes tonight?”

“Punishment.” The answer escapes me without permission, my grasp on my impulse control still not quite recovered from my deeper regression.

I feel Kristian tense up, but is tone is almost too nonchalant when he questions, “What for? You didn’t do anything to earn a punishment.”

“Not for tonight.” The guilt I’ve been carrying scrambles up from my churning belly and bursts out through my mouth, “I left the camp without telling you. Without saying goodbye. I owed you at least that much.”

He sighs. “I’m going to move you so I can look you in the eye for this, Benji. I’m not putting space between us for any other reason than that, okay?”

That’s what he says, sure, but I know that he’s probably just using it as an excuse to extricate himself from the cuddle. I’m not regressed anymore, and I’m too much work to want anything more with, so of course he’s letting me go. Literally and metaphorically. Still, he’s expecting an answer, so I nod.

I help him as he gently slides me off his lap and he shuffles to the second space on the couch, but he doesn’t let me avert my gaze for long. His strong index finger hooks under my chin and he uses his thumb to help move my face until I’m looking directly at him again.

“I said this while you were little, but it bears repeating,” he starts. “You didn’t owe me anything. We played together at camp, and we had fun. And, yes, I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to stay in touch, but we never agreed to anything outside of the couple of scenes we did together, so you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Oh.

My heart sinks even more as I come to understand what he’s saying.

We never agreed to anything more.

It was fun.

We didn’t owe each other anything.

He probably didn’t even miss me.