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There was stupid. Then there was this.
He read the listing again.
Twenty-one. Shit. Nineteen years younger than him. She'd definitely think he was a creep for messaging her. But what choice did he have? Sit by and wait for the news to plaster her photo on the screen and talk about the dangers of online dating?
If this could even be considered online dating.
God, it was such a stupid, reckless thing to do.
Maybe she did need a Daddy. Or at least someone to make sure she didn't do stupid shit like this.
He didn't know why he was so annoyed about it. He knew it was irrational to feel angry over something like this, and he had less than no right to tell her what to do. But that thought didn't stop him from clickingmessageand typing out a few words to the little girl.
After Mandy, he'd learned a lot about himself. Mostly that he was a Dom—a Daddy Dom, specifically. He'd never heard of it before. It was just something he'd stumbled upon during a late night of scrolling online, and he spent hours reading about the lifestyle.
Everything about being a Daddy resonated with him, straight to his soul.
Everything.
He'd never had a sub or a Little. He'd never played with one. He'd talked with a few in online chatrooms, but nothing serious. He'd made a couple Daddy friends, but they were just online. It wasn't like they were best friends or anything.
But he'd interacted and researched enough to know it was what he wanted. He just didn't know how to go about it.
Posting on Gregslist certainly never crossed his damn mind.
A part of him wondered if this was fate. If this girl had posted and he was having this visceral reaction to it because they were meant to be or some woo-woo shit. But another part of him worried he was just excited to see another person like him outside of a DDlg chatroom.
He knew a girl like this wouldn't want him. As soon as he told her his past, she'd run for the hills. As she fucking should.
And if she was always as reckless as this, he'd never survive being her Daddy. Her ass likely wouldn't survive it, either. He couldn't be with someone who cared so little about their own safety.
But isn't that the point of having a Daddy? So she doesn't have to worry about that shit anymore? So he can take care of everything for her?
He shook his head. As much as he wanted control and to take care of everything, he still needed his girl to have a bit of self preservation. And this listing was the exact opposite of that.
He looked at the photo again. From what he could see, she looked cute. Pretty dark hair parted in pigtails, golden tan skin, a cute, frilly top. It looked like she had glitter on her cheeks, so maybe she'd been at a party.
Shit.
She was fucking cute.
Someone as cute and innocent as her needed a Daddy. And he could be that, couldn't he?
No, he needed to stop. He couldn't seriously be considering this. Not that there was anything to even consider. It was just a silly little girl pulling at his Daddy side. That was it. It didn't mean a damn thing.
He needed to just keep scrolling until he found the part he needed for that stupid fucking car. He needed to forget about this girl and her listing altogether. He needed to put his laptop away, finish the game, and eat his stupid sandwich.
Yet, instead of doing any of that, he finished typing out a message and hitsend.
three
Abbie stood with her back against the wall, a champagne flute in her hand, and a scowl on her face. She’d been standing in this exact spot for the last hour and she was tired and ready to go home.
This wasn’t the first, and likely not the last, stuffy party of her mother’s she’d attended. Yeah, it was her brother’s birthday party, but it wasdefinitelyfor her mother.
She took a sip of the bubbly liquid, holding in a gag at the taste. She hated the stuff, not that she’d complain. Her mother would scold her and remind her how much a bottle of it cost.
Sighing, she looked around the party. She couldn’t wait to go home and slip into her otter jammies before stocking up on enough snacks to feed an army. Abbie wasn’t planning on leaving her pink velvet couch for the entire weekend. Well, maybe she’d move to her otter-shaped bean bag chair. Otherwise, her butt was staying planted on the couch with her favorite show on.
