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Storm closed her eyes. “Don't.” Her voice broke.
She could handle him calling himself Daddy, but saying she was his girl was too much. She knew after this he was leaving and she wouldn't be his.
“Don't what?” he asked.
“Don't call me yours when I'm not,” she whispered.
He stayed silent but she could hear his footsteps coming closer and closer.
“Let's get you to the bathroom,” he said as he picked her up.
She didn't miss that he didn't reply to what she said. Was he going to follow what she said or was he going to continue calling her his Little girl? Storm knew if he continued, she would get attached and it wasn't going to end well.
She had already become attached to him in this short period of time and knew it was a mistake. He wasn'therDaddy, just a Daddy that was taking care of her while she was sick.
Miles walked into the bathroom and set her feet on the ground before he knelt and undid the back of her drop seat. She had bought this onesie specifically for the drop seat. It was easy to go to the bathroom when she was in Little space.
“I can pee on my own,” she mumbled, feeling kind of embarrassed.
“No need to be embarrassed. I'm a Daddy,” he replied.
But he wasn'therDaddy is what she wanted to reply. There was a difference.
“I really don't want to leave you in here alone because you're still sick and I don't know if you're going to fall and hit your head,” he said. “I can go stand over in the corner with my back toward you if you’d prefer.”
She barely nodded her head and sat down on the toilet as he walked to the corner. It wasn't the same, but she knew this was what she was going to get until she was better.
“All done?” he asked as she started to stand up after doing her business.
“Yes,” she said.
He turned around and looked at her, shaking his head. “Daddy didn't say you could get up by yourself.”
Miles fastened her drop seat and picked her up again. He walked into the living room and back toward the couch where she had been sitting.
“You stay on the couch and I'll go get the food. Then I'll feed you,” he said as he placed her down and walked off.
He was going to feed her?
CHAPTER EIGHT
STORM
Miles came back with two bowls in his hand. How was he going to feed her and eat himself? It didn't make any sense. Had he lied?
He sat down right next to her on the couch, placing one of the two bowls on the little coffee table in front of them.
“I'm going to feed you and while you're chewing, I'll feed myself,” he said.
“I can feed myself,” she replied.
She was thirty-five years old. She had been feeding herself for years and years.
“I know you can but I'm taking care of you. You're sick and we want you to focus on healing and not expending your energy on picking up a spoon and feeding yourself,” he explained.
Storm opened her mouth, ready to argue with him, but he stopped her.
“I'm not taking no for an answer. You're sick and I'm taking care of you. This is how it's going to be done and I don't want to hear you argue,” he said. “Do you understand me?”
