Chapter 1

Chapter One

Stone

He'd heard about this, but getting to actually witness the process in action made all those stories pale in comparison. It was enough of a shock to have him standing framed in the middle of the doorway, simply too amused to take the next step into the room. Stone felt a bit like he'd stumbled upon some special dance meant for only the eyes of the person performing the secret ritual. Though "dance" wasn't quite the word to describe what he was witnessing. This reminded him of a combination of gymnastics and weightlifting, if one considered the only thing being lifted was their own body weight.

A pair of hands, each hot-pink-tipped finger splayed to create more surface area, planted on her "vault" of choice. Bare feet sporting ten perfectly matching pink toenails weren't carefully aligned on some four-inch-wide wooden balance beam, but rather had disappeared into the softness of a snow-white duvet as the contestant prepared to make her move. Biceps tightened as slender arms tensed to hold her entire body weight as it lifted into the air. It truly was a rather impressive feat of strength, but he'd admit his attention was captured by the uniform this athlete had chosen, or rather not chosen.

Naked as the day she was born, there was no sign of any flag depicting which country she represented. In fact, the only distinctive mark in evidence was the small red heart edged in a pink lacy design inked onto one of his favorite canvases in the entire world—her beautiful silky skin. The tattoo accentuated the adorable little dimple right above the split of her ass, and the white lettering spelling out "Daddy's Girl" in the heart's center never failed to make Stone feel like the luckiest man in the world.

A distinctive little grunt he'd recognize anywhere drew his thoughts back to the competition. Forget gymnastics or testing of strength. His Little girl seemed to have created her own Bottom-Bounce category.

"Have you considered the fact that if you'd wear some of the clothes you're trying so hard to stuff inside, you'd have a far better chance of that closing?" he asked when she finally stopped bouncing her bare behind up and down on the surface of a clearly overstuffed pink Samsonite suitcase.

A high-pitched squeal told of her surprise at being observed and her crossed arms and flashing eyes conveyed her opinion of his suggestion.

"Don't do that! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Stone said as he bent forward to drop a kiss on top of her curls. "Forgive me?"

Her head tilted to the side as her eyes lifted to his, the lilac tint reminding him of fields of lavender flowers. Just as cresting a hill to discover the delicate flowers flowing all the way to the horizon, being captured by her gaze had the ability to mesmerize him. But it was her smile as her lips curled up that had the power to stop his breath and have his heart skip a beat.

"Of course I will," she began sweetly.

Experience had taught him that when her words were that syrupy and accompanied by a deliberate fluttering of long, curled eyelashes there was some sort of caveat attached to the declaration.

"If…" he prompted.

"If you'll help me close the latches. All I need is a little more pressure–"

"Babygirl, an entire herd of elephants could do a synchronized floor routine on that suitcase and it still would have no chance of closing."

"Huh?"

He chuckled and shook his head. Evidently, he was the only one thinking of the Olympics. "Never mind. We just need to take out a few pieces?—"

"We can't!"

Easily prying away the fingers she had curled around the suitcase's edges, Stone then lifted her into the air. The moment her weight disappeared, the top of the suitcase flipped open to disgorge what looked to be the entirety of her closet's contents as well as those of her dresser drawers. He gave a long drawn-out whistle. "Make that more than a few."

"But, Daddy, I need everything in there!"

Stone set her down onto the middle of the mattress before he made a random grab, pulling out one item with each hand. Lifting them high, he saw they were both pink, one fuzzy, the other slick, and he thought she looked adorable when wearing either one. However, only one could be considered even remotely necessary for this trip, and that would require a drastic climate change that dropped the temperature of their vacation locale into that seen in Antarctica. Still, he allowed himself another moment to visualize the possibilities provided by the drop-seat of the footed pajamas before releasing it to fall to the floor. Grinning, he concentrated on the other garment.

"A wetsuit? Micah, exactly where do you think we are going?"

"On vacation," she quipped. "Though you won't tell me exactly where that will be, you did say something about a lake."

"A river," Stone corrected, letting the pink neoprene garment fall on top of the pjs at his feet. "You may get some swimming in, but there will be no need for scuba gear. A bathing suit will suffice. Is there one in here?"

"There's two." Micah knelt up and dug into the suitcase to first pull out a sleek one-piece suit. "If you'd prefer I be Big," she explained before producing a cute swim skirt and top covered with yellow rubber ducks wearing all sorts of outfits. "In case we're going somewhere where I can swim while Little."

"The question is what headspace you wish to be in. The choice is yours. After all, this is your vacation as much as it is mine."

She smiled and threw the one-piece over his head. "Little!"

Stone was very happy with her answer. She worked far too hard as it was and definitely needed the freedom to completely immerse herself in her chosen role.

"Good for you, Webby," he said. The nickname was one he only used when she was securely seated in her Little headspace. It came from her love of all things having to do with ducks including her honorary Uncle Scrooge from the cartoons.

Taking the two-piece suit from her, he folded it neatly and set it on the bed. "How you managed to find not one but two suits in this mess is beyond comprehension." He quirked his eyebrow and added, "Which begs the question of why you are packing in the nude in the first place?"

"So I can pack everything I'll need, of course," she said as if he were too dense to understand.

He wasn't dense, but he also wasn't going to get into a debate about how that logic made any sense. Neither was he going to haul a ton of useless items around the airport. A believer that actions spoke louder than words, he continued to "unpack" by adding several things to the discard pile.

It wasn't until he'd pulled out a hodgepodge of sweaters mixed in with camisoles and t-shirts, several pairs of thick wool socks as well as thin cotton ones that he realized, despite how stuffed the suitcase was, something was missing. Just to be sure, he separated the tops into stacks by style, let all but one pair of wool socks roll to the floor while keeping the thinner ones on the bed, and set jeans, leggings, shorts and overalls aside until all that was left was a rather large pile of plush yellow feathers.

"Well, hello, Mr. Quackers. I'm rather surprised you could even breathe beneath all those clothes."

Micah's soft giggle drew his eyes to where her hands were motioning in a "gimme" gesture. Stone scanned the now empty case, acknowledging that she had indeed forgotten to pack the items he'd specifically told her to include. Still he'd make sure it had been deliberately done and not a simple misunderstanding.

"Do you have any other bags?"

"No, you said I could only have one bag so that's why I got the biggest one I could find," Micah said. "I can't go without Mr. Quackers, Daddy. He would be too lonely!"

He tended to agree. Not that the inanimate stuffie would be lonely, but that it was an item his Little girl would definitely need. In fact, he had a feeling she was going to be needing it quite a bit sooner than she'd planned. Moving to the side of the bed, he sat on the edge. "Micah, where is the list I gave you to use to pack?"

"Um, I think I lost it."

"How is that possible? I gave it to you this morning."

"I don't know. I had it and then, well, I didn't. Maybe it's in the suitcase?"

Stone leaned over and turned the suitcase around so they could both easily look inside. "It's not, and you know what else isn't in here?"

Any questions about her intentions were put to rest when his Little began to squirm. Stone could practically hear the gears churning in her head as her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth.

"Webby?"

"Umm, I'm thinking," she said.

"Thinking? About what?"

"About how it coulda gotten lost."

Stone nodded, his fingers running along the stuffed duck's plush feathers. "That's good, but I believe we both know how it got lost."

When her mouth opened, seeing his left eyebrow rise was enough to have it snapping shut again.

"Babygirl, you're in enough trouble already. I suggest you do some serious thinking about what you want to say next." Setting Mr. Quackers against the headboard, Stone stood back and gestured for her to come to him.

It was a very reluctant Little who gave a deep sigh before flipping onto her hands and knees and crawling over the expanse of the king-size bed to reach him. Once she was close enough, Stone scooped her up and carried her across the room.

"Daddy, I think I can find it," she said as their destination became clear. "I don't need to go there."

There was the naughty-girl corner in their bedroom and it was exactly where she needed to go. Ignoring her protest, he didn't slow until he reached the corner which was bare except for a small stool with a top that could be opened. Not needing anything inside her naughty-stool at the moment, Stone pushed it aside before setting her on her feet. Once his arms were free, he turned her to face the juncture of the two walls.

"Nose and nips in, bottom out," he said, well aware the instruction never failed to make her face turn pink.

She looked back at him imploringly. "Maybe I can be Little tomorrow?"

"Sorry, Webby-girl, it doesn't work that way. You've made your choice, and it's one I think you really need to stick with. Am I wrong?"

A heavy exhale spoke of her capitulation. "No, Daddy, I just don't like corner-time. It's really icky, not to mention bo-oorr-rriinng."

"I know. That's why it's usually very effective." He reached forward to tap one of the small, almost invisible circles drawn on the wall. "To stave off that boredom, you can think about what happens to naughty little girls who lie to their Daddies."