5. Abby
5
ABBY
When we went inside Mamma B’s, I could feel my big side slipping away and the regression starting. I’d never fully regress in public, but it was easy to tap into my Little side when I was in such a special place. Full of jittery energy, I bounced on my toes as I walked the length of the display case, looking at all the yummy flavors. The sweet scent of waffle cones and candy toppings wrapped around me like a cozy blanket, and I wanted to roll around in it.
After looking at all the options, I turned to Royce. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “Your choice, sweetheart. I trust you to pick something yummy.”
I grinned and turned back to the guy behind the counter. "Two of the daily specials, please." The sandwich board advertised a sherbet lemon-lime float with cherries on top that sounded amazing. A bit tangy but still refreshingly delicious.
As he prepared our order, I hopped onto a stool at the counter and swiveled to face the window, catching glimpses of people passing by outside.
A chill ran down my neck as Royce tugged on my single french braid. "No pigtails tonight? They looked good on you."
Warmth bloomed in my cheeks, and I couldn't stop my voice from rising a few octaves. It was the high pitch that always seemed to bubble up when I felt Little and playful. "After bathtime, I like one braid to make my hair curly in the morning." My eyes widened once I realized what I'd said, but I couldn't take it back now.
Royce’s nostrils flared, and he leaned closer to my ear. "Too bad the locker room wasn't stocked with bubbles and toys for a proper bath."
I swallowed hard as my pulse raced through me. His words felt charged with energy, and I couldn’t look away as he sat down and our floats were brought to us.
After a moment to gather myself, I took a tentative sip. The tartness of the sherbet danced on my tongue while the fizzy soda coated my throat. It was refreshing and light, which helped distract me from the heavy thoughts that wanted to creep into my mind.
Royce was watching me with an unreadable expression before he took a sip. “It’s good.”
“So good.”
The cherry on top of my whipped cream mocked me as I stabbed it with the straw before giving up and just grabbing it by the stem. I brought it to my lips in a desperate attempt to seem nonchalant, but I could feel his heavy stare on my mouth.
This game we were playing was dangerous, teetering on a razor’s edge, with a giant mistake on one side and the best sex of my life on the other. That second part was just an assumption based on what I knew of Royce so far.
"Y'know…" I licked some whipped cream from the corner of my mouth. "The softball game was fun and all, but you’re right about bathtime." I shrugged, letting the insinuation hang in the air between us.
"What about it?" He leaned back against his stool with his arms folded across his chest and a smirk on his face like he knew exactly what I was thinking. The way his shirt stretched over his muscles wasn't helping my composure.
"Well, I did miss my duckie…" Oops. That shouldn’t have actually come out of my mouth. I was gonna say that I needed a warm bath for my muscles to relax. I clamped my mouth shut, wishing I could dive into my sherbet float and swim away from my embarrassment.
The silence that followed was thick, so I finally dared to lift my gaze to meet his.
Royce was staring right at me. His pupils had dilated just a fraction, but it was enough to know that my confession had an effect. That darkening gaze felt like a gentle caress, sending a ripple of excitement through me.
He picked up his spoon and slowly stirred the foam that topped his float, never breaking eye contact with me. Every clink of the metal against his glass sounded unusually loud in our silence. "Your duckie, huh?" The corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly. “Is that your favorite bath toy?”
I bit my lip and nodded again. Opening up in this way to someone I hardly knew was risky but thrilling at the same time. Even as I fought to resist the pull I felt toward him, I leaned in and wanted him to kiss me.
"Sounds like an important part of your routine, sweetheart." His voice was a low hum that vibrated through the small shop.
"Yes, sir." My reply was barely above a whisper, but he heard me.
He heard exactly what I was trying to convey. How was he able to pull truths from me when no one else could? Royce made me feel safe and dangerous at the same time.
He picked up his glass and took a drink. "Next time, I’ll have to get you home after the game and help you get all cleaned up, sweet girl."
My breath hitched, and I took another sip of my float to steady myself. The chill from the drink did little to cool the warmth spreading through me. Was he hinting about the very thing that made me feel most vulnerable? Could he guess that I was Little?
"Next time?"
"Next time." His eyes twinkled. “Unless you want me to take you home right now and tuck you into bed?”
Yes, please. I definitely wanted that. But I shook my head, knowing it was the right thing to do. “Next time is good.”