Page 7 of Ted's Temerity
Zephyr snorts. “Not in the way you’re hoping.”
Brat. This sends a thrill up my spine. I’d love to take him over my lap and spank him for his cheek. I get the feeling he’d enjoy it. Even though I’ve never really been into bratty boys, I know I would as well.
“It’s still a step above younotthinking of me, so I’ll take it.”
“Hmm,” he makes a show of sounding thoughtful, “If your voicemail is to be taken into consideration, I’m almost certain it’syouthinking ofme, Mister Masters.”
He’s quick as a whip and I love it. Dropping down onto my white leather couch, I lean back and grin at the ceiling with my phone still pressed to my ear. “You called me back, so I can’t help but think it’s a two-way street, Mister Cruze.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I continue, “And I’m not ashamed to admit that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, if that helps.”
“Well, now you’ve taken all the fun out of my teasing you.” I can still hear the smile in his voice, so I know he’s not offended.
I want to tell him that I can think of other ways he can tease me and that I’m happy to offer suggestions, but I stop myself. I want whatever is building between us to be more than just a quick, lusty affair. I’m a Daddy, after all. I’m driven to nurture and care for my partner, which usually involves developing an emotional attachment. Something deeper than just a handful of quick fucks. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with the casual hookups I’ve had over the last few years, but my heart wants more.
Still, I can’t stop myself entirely from flirting back. “Tiny dancer, you can tease me however you like.”
A few more beats of silence pass and I pull the phone away, glancing at the screen to make sure the call is still engaged and that I haven’t muted it or something similar. When I press it against my ear again, he breathes, “Tiny dancer, huh?”
“You know…like the song?” Suddenly, I feel unsure of myself again, realizing that I’ve overstepped. Trying to bring back the levity, I blurt, “Or is that well and truly before your time?”
Great. Remind him that there’s a massive age gap between you. Idiot.
Thankfully, Zephyr laughs and feigns affront, “I know my Elton John, thank you.”
“That’s a relief,” I sass back, sinking back into the couch cushion now that the crisis has been averted. “Giving you a proper musical education would have become my top priority.”
“As opposed to…?”
“As opposed to the date I asked you out on. Which, I might remind you, you still haven’t accepted.”
“Maybe I was waiting for you to ask again properly, not just via a vague voicemail message.”
This beautiful creature is definitely going to keep me on my toes. Smiling, I reply, “Can I take you out to dinner and a movie, Zephyr?”
“How very traditional of you.”
Oh, he’s really making me work for it.
“Or, perhaps, something more casual? Like a picnic date?” There’s a voice in my head telling me not to push too hard. I rack my brain for more creative ideas but, as is becoming the norm where this man is concerned, I can’t think beyond just wanting to spend time with him. “Or…bowling?”
Bowling? Really? Who even am I?
“I’d love to go out with you,” he finally cuts in, preventing me from spiraling into a list of random activities. But his next words cool my elation, especially with the undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice. “But you should know some things about me, first.”
God, I wish that I could see his face. That I could hold his hand as I assure him: “Whatever it is, I doubt it will change my interest in you.” Grinning, I try to lighten the mood again. “Even if you tell me that you secretly hate Elton John’s music.”
This earns me the desired reaction of snorted laughter before a light sigh comes across the line. “I’m a Little, which you know, but…” He trails off.
“But?”
“I’m a femme little. I’m into princess play and dresses and stuff.” Zephyr’s voice is small, as though the admission pains him. There are a thousand reasons why that might be the case, but if one of those is that he’s afraid I’m not okay with it, I need to disabuse him of that notion right now.
“Is that it?” Okay, probably not the smoothest reaction I could have offered him. I rush to correct myself. “I mean, that’s not a problem for me. It doesn’t change my interest in you, in general or as a Daddy.”
I can hear the breath he sucks in and the wonder in his voice. “Really?”
“Really.” In fact, the whole concept has a feeling of excitement building beneath my skin. I haven’t been with a Little who indulged in such things in over a decade, but it’s not something I have zero experience with, either. Additionally, Ash has spent the last couple of years re-introducing me to the joys of teddy bear tea-parties. Besides, the whole concept suits Zephyr. The idea of pretty dresses and tea parties and makeup play just fits. I can picture it clearly in my mind’s eye, and I love it.
Softening my tone, I hope to impart some of what I’m feeling, “It sounds perfect for you, tiny dancer, and I’d love to be a part of that, if you’ll have me.”
