Page 82 of Santa’s Little Faker
Ha.
“You have to stop doing that, Trippy.” Daddy didn’t make me promise, so I gave him more kisses. “Cheater.”
Yes.
Ha.
“Okay, more conversations, then we’ll call it good communication.” Daddy liked my wiggles but he had to take a big breath. “Do you have any limits on having inside happy time with Daddy?”
“Hmm…” Think. Think. Think. Ha. Naughty Pooh Bear. “Daddy inside me. I’ll share later.”
More thinking.
More thinking.
Good communication needed limits so Daddy didn’t worry.
Had to find limits.
“Lots of kisses. Get to come.” Something else. Something else. “Oh, I get to be sticky?”
Daddy blinked and frowned and blinked. “You want me to get you sticky inside?”
“Yes.” Thinking Daddy time. “Daddy has limits too.”
“We both have limits.” Daddy gave me cheek kisses that time. “I was at the doctor—”
“Last month. Last month. I know.” Daddy all safe. “Me too. Ready for Daddy.”
No laugh.
No laugh.
Daddy took a big breath.
“When were you tested, Trippy?”
Ha.
Good boy.
Not because I was a naughty spy.
“Summer, Daddy.”
I frowned and pretended to be Enzo.
“Go get tested, that’s not what an open relationship means.” Enzo got cranky. Lots and lots of cranky. “All good, Daddy.”
“The TV girl. Lord, Trippy. I’m going to have to keep you just to make sure you don’t start dating again. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Yep.
“Thank you, Daddy.” Kiss. Kiss. “No take backs.”
Ha.
Daddy had to keep me.
