Chapter Eight

Shawn

I take Willow by the elbow and guide her back to the shopping cart.

There are tons of people around and I'm coming dangerously close to breaking one of the rules of kink: don't expose "vanillas" without their consent.

But right now, this doesn't have anything to do with any fetish. I'm old-fashioned. When I tell a lady to do something, I damn well expect her to do it. And when she doesn't…well, I believe in making her face consequences.

I can't do that, though. Not right here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. And not with her.

Just because she's a Little doesn't mean she's my Little. I've already crossed so many lines this weekend. I can't keep going down these dangerous paths. I've got to pump the brakes on this right now before we get lost any further in a dynamic that can't be.

It can never be.

But it's hard to let go. I want nothing more than to march this little girl outside, take my belt off, pull her pants down, bend her over the seat of my truck, and give her a spanking she'll never forget.

I could find a nice, secluded spot behind the store or something to do just that. If she was my Little, that's exactly what I'd do, too.

But she's not and I can't.

It's settled. There's no sense in even daydreaming about it.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"This is a busy store," I say, looking around at the throngs of people that swarm around us. "And a pretty little thing like you? Some predator or trafficker or someone like that would just love to snatch you up. I can't believe you wandered away."

"I'm an adult," she says.

I snort and shake my head.

I want to argue but think better of it before the words actually leave my mouth. Willow has a point, though it pains me to admit it. She is an adult. She isn't my Little. She's not even my girlfriend. I have no authority over her. She could tell me to leave her here and I couldn't do a thing about it.

"Sure," I say, not elaborating beyond that. "Let's pay."

She's quiet as we go through the line and take our purchases out. In the parking lot, I can't help but spot a couple of shady guys that seem to be watching Willow. I want to punch them in the face. This is why she shouldn't have wandered away. These men might be harmless. But their leers suggest otherwise. This is a dangerous world. There are sons of bitches out there who'd love to get their hands on a sweet little girl like Willow.

I shake it off, help her into the truck, and then hit the road.

She's not my Little, I keep telling myself silently.

No matter how badly I wish she was.

***

We've crossed the border into Oklahoma.

"That place is huge!" Willow says, looking at the sprawling casino that rests on the east side of I-35. "And look! It looks like New York! And I see Paris!"

I take a second to drink in the sight of the cutie as she stares out her window. Damn. She's adorable. I quickly put my eyes back on the highway and say, "They have sections based on different places around the world."

"Kind of like EPCOT at Disney?" she says.

"Yeah. EPCOT for adults," I say. "Lots of gambling and drinks."

"Is it fun?"

"Sure. You've never been to a casino?"

"Nope. I'd love to go."

I keep driving for a few miles, but I can't let this opportunity pass. I take the next exit and a few minutes later, we've backtracked to the massive resort. I find a parking spot.

"You stay right with me. I don't want a repeat of what happened back in Texas. This place is even busier and who knows who's coming in and out. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," she says.

Ah. She's back to being a submissive little girl. Good.

We go inside to find a massive gaming floor that seems to spread out for miles. It basically does. The casino is over five hundred thousand square feet, and that's just for the games. A hotel tower stretches high into the air. The grounds also house a spa, pools and cabanas, and almost all the stuff you'd find at a Vegas resort.

Including lots of people.

Most of them look like average folks just out for a good time. There are quite a few tourists and a handful of senior citizens. Some of the people, though, look…uh, we'll say unsavory.

I know, I know. I sound snobby, judging people by their appearance. But it's not about the clothes they're wearing or anything like that. It's about the way some of the men are leering at my baby girl.

I mean Willow.

I don't care if she's my Little or not, I'll be damned if I let anything happen to her. I wouldn't stand by and let any woman be abused or even spoken to inappropriately. But, with Willow, well…I'm really feeling protective. So, my guard is more than a little up.

"May I have a drink?" Willow asks.

I sigh.

"What?" she says.

"You didn't handle your alcohol well this weekend. Remember? You ended up in my room for the night."

I like that she was in my room. I just don't like the circumstances that led to it. I keep that to myself, though.

"Please?" she begs. "I'm with a doctor." She smiles. "If anything goes wrong, you'll be close by and can help me."

Two guys walk past. I see the way they look at Willow.

Damn right I'll be close by.

"One drink," I say. "We'll get it and then play some games."

Five minutes later, we have our drinks in hand and make our way to a bank of slot machines. The colorful lights look exciting. The electronic rings and chirps sound cheery. I know it's all by design. They're here to lure suckers in.

But if I can help Willow check something off her bucket list, so be it. I'd rather be at the craps table or maybe laying some cash down on roulette or blackjack. But this isn't about me. I'll just sit back and watch this cutie enjoy herself. That's more valuable than any amount of money I could win.

"Look at the pirates," she says, smiling as she looks at the tall machine.

Pirates, tropical birds, and other nautical themed images greet us on the touchscreen. I give her a twenty from my wallet and she inserts it, the machine sucking up the money just as quickly as it possibly can.

"What do I push?" she says.

"Well, decide how much of that twenty you want to bet, hit the right button, then click spin," I say.

She does and two minutes later, she's blown through the cash without a thing to show for it.

I chuckle. "Want to go again?"

"I'll go to a different machine. Maybe we'll have more luck." She looks around. "What game do you like best?"

"If I'm playing the machines, I do video poker," I say. "But I usually stick with table games."

"Why?"

"Better odds," I say. "Not saying any game has good odds. Not for the player, at least. Odds are always tipped in favor of the house."

She thinks about it for a moment and then says, "I'm not ready to play a table game. They seem kinda intimidating."

"You play whatever you want," I say. "Stick with slots if you'd like."

I once again take a moment to drink in the sight of her. She looks so innocent standing here among all the chirping machines—like she doesn't quite belong in this adult world.

What the hell are you doing, Shawn? She's too young for you.

I remind myself I'm merely giving her a ride back to Norman. The casino is just a quick stop so she can see what this place is like. None of it means anything.

That's what I keep telling myself, at least. But I don't really believe that.

Sure, I'd give anyone a ride. We're heading to the same place. It makes sense. But I wouldn't be having these feelings for just anyone. And I wouldn't be trying to draw this out. We didn't have to stop at the casino. I only did it for her—to see that sweet smile—and to selfishly extend our time together.

Now, I'm realizing that was a mistake. Because the more I look into those big, innocent eyes and the more I see that sweet smile, the harder it becomes to not grab this cutie and hold her tight.

I've got to clear my head.

I pull out my wallet, open it, and realize I only have a ten left. I glance around the casino floor and spot an ATM over by the wall, next to the drink station that offers free sodas and tea.

"I need to get some more cash."

"We can just go," Willow says.

I should listen to her. Maybe she has more common sense than I do. The more I stay with her the harder this is all going to be when I have to say goodbye. I just can't bring myself to let go, though. Not yet.

"We're already here," I say. "We might as well play."

She smiles, making this all worth it.

Hell, I'd burn through hundreds of dollars just to see that smile.

"You stay right by me," I say.

"Ah, man. Can I play that game while I wait, instead?" She points to a slot machine that has colorful graphics flashing across the screen, depicting a princess in a pink dress and a magical castle behind her.

I look back to the ATM. It isn't too far away. I know, I'm being overprotective here. But Willow is young and inexperienced. It's a Daddy's job to care for her. Even if I'm not her Daddy.

"I guess so," I say. I think about it another moment and add, "Yeah. That'll be fine."

I hand her the ten-dollar bill. She thanks me and sits on the stool in front of the machine, eager to play. I go to the ATM only to find this one is out of order. I stroll back to Willow and say, "Looks like it's not working. I need to find another one."

"Ooh, can I stay here? Look! I won three dollars!"

There are ATMs all over this place, so I won't have to venture very far away. Trust me, they want you to have easy access to your money so they can have easy access to it, too. I remind myself she's a grown woman. Technically.

Finally, I nod, but add, "You stay right here. That cute little bottom doesn't get off that stool. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," she says, not taking her eyes off the dizzying blur on the screen in front of her. "I just won six more dollars!"

"I'll be right back," I say.

I hurry away and it doesn't take me long to spot another ATM. I can't see Willow from here, but I won't be gone long. At least, that's my hope.

There are two other people in front of me.

It only takes each one about a minute, so by the time it's my turn and I get my cash, I've been gone three or four minutes, tops.

But evidently that was long enough for Willow to be a naughty girl and leave the machine, going off to explore. At least, I hope that's all that's happened.

But when I return to the slot machine, her cute little bottom is not on that stool.

She's gone.