Series: Paige Michaels
Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
A half hour later, she forced herself out of the shower. She couldn’t hide there any longer. Nicoya wadded up the diaper and threw it away before sending that pink T-shirt into the laundry basket. She’d have thrown it away but it had cherries on it. Dressing in pajamas, she got ready to curl up in bed.
Throwing back the covers, she crawled into bed and hid under the comforter. Her stomach growled angrily. She’d dreamed of meatloaf and mashed potatoes all day. Pressing her hand to her abdomen, she whispered, “Shut up. I’m already upset. I don’t need you making me more miserable.”
Her doorbell sounded and Nicoya peeked out as she listened intently. An urgent knocking sounded at her door. She slid from bed and crept to the door to peek out the peephole. Something on the ground caught her eye.
After looking to see if anyone was around, she cautiously opened the door to find a covered tray sitting on her welcome mat. It smelled amazing. Nicoya hesitated. She couldn’t leave it out there. Animals would ravage her doorstep to get a taste of that.
She stepped outside in her PJs and looked around. No one was there. After lifting the tray, she carried it inside and set it on the kitchen island before returning to the door to close and lock it. Pulling the towel from the top, she discovered he had brought her a plate filled with the items she had requested with one addition. She lifted the plastic tumbler to find a perfect maraschino cherry cupcake. He’d protected the icing from being smashed by the towel. The tray smelled even better without the material absorbing some of the aroma. Her stomach roared in response.
Nicoya leaned in to sniff and spotted a piece of paper tucked under the plate. Pulling it out carefully, she felt her heart rate increase. What had he written? She unfolded it and took a deep breath to calm down before reading.
Niki,
I am so sorry I scared you. I understand your need to keep your Little side a secret. In my eagerness to take care of you, I violated every Daddy code there is by not thinking of how to protect you. All I can say is I’ve learned to stop and think about things, considering the need to guard your public persona. I’m heartsick and so sorry. I hope you’ll give me another chance.
Daddy
P.S. Eat, Little girl. I need to know that you’re fed.
She set the paper aside after reading his message over and over. It wouldn’t do any good to throw everything out. Nicoya elbowed a stool at the island to the side so she could scoot around it to sit down. Rereading the note, she took a bite of the meatloaf and moaned.
Damn, that’s good.
Nicoya devoured every bit on the plate. It was the most delicious meal she remembered eating in a long time. She always stocked frozen meatloaf meals in her freezer but this was very definitely not a microwaved concoction.
She shook her head slowly. Axel was everything she’d ever wanted in a Daddy. Maybe this was just the universe telling her she shouldn’t be Little. It was too risky. Perhaps she needed to let go of this dream of allowing her Little side out to play.
“I can always be Little when I retire from my detective job,” she announced to the empty kitchen. Her words seemed very loud in the open space. Retirement seemed like a lifetime away.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day, Nicoya left early to go run at the park instead of her normal path around the neighborhood. She could shower at the station before work. Running in circles wasn’t what she liked to do, but it would burn off some energy and help her make it through the day. The visual of the large tub of Little stuff she’d thrown together and put in the garage last night kept popping up in her head.
“It will get easier,” she reminded herself. Hearing the words out loud didn’t help. Nicoya didn’t believe that statement. She’d fallen hard for Axel. She’d had on rose-colored glasses. She hadn’t stopped to think about the ramifications of living a more open age-play lifestyle. It wasn’t safe. He would never understand.
The morning rush of driving to the station and lugging in her clothes to clean up and change scattered her thoughts. By the time she sat down at her desk, the stack of cases there demanded all her attention and she very deliberately pushed all the anguish floating around in her brain into a small box in her mind where she could ignore it.
When she got home to a freshly mowed lawn, she almost lost it as she pulled into her driveway. He was still taking care of her. He had to stop. There was no truck in his driveway so she took a chance that he wasn’t home.