Marisol froze, staring at him. “Are you . . . are you a Daddy Dom?”
Her stomach dropped as he froze. Damn it. Why had she just come out with it like that? Why hadn’t she waited for him to tell her? Maybe he didn’t want her to know?
But he was the one going on about booster seats and highchairs. And the way he’d just spoken to her . . .
Maybe that’s just the way he is, Marisol.
Now she felt ill. Like he was going to get insulted or tell her that was ridiculous.
“I am.”
Linc was a Daddy Dom.
Holy. Shit.
“I thought they were a myth. Like sasquatch. Or unicorns,” she muttered, staring at her food without really seeing it.
“You thought that Daddy Doms were a myth?” he asked in his deep voice.
“Um. Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve never met one.”
“That you know of,” he pointed out. “They don’t make us carry around badges. Or T-shirts that say, I’m a Daddy Dom.”
“It would be really helpful if they did,” she mutter
ed.
“And what about the other way around?” he questioned.
“What do you mean?”
“Should Littles have a way of being identified? What would you wear if you wanted me to know that you are a Little?”
“You think I’m a Little?”
“You trying to tell me that you’re not?” he asked.
She licked her dry lips. “I don’t know . . . I mean, how do you know?”
“What do you know about Daddy Doms and Littles?” he countered.
“I have no real-life experience. I only know what I’ve read in books.”
“So you have read books with age play in them?”
“Umm. Yes.” They were only her favorite sort of books to read.
“And how did they make you feel? When you first read them, what did you think?”
“I thought that it was all fiction. That it couldn’t be real. But at the same time, I guess I hoped it was real because then that might mean that one day, I’d meet a Daddy Dom.” She kept her gaze on her food, which she’d barely touched. It sounded silly when she said it out loud.
But then again, she had met Linc, hadn’t she? So perhaps not such a foolish hope after all.
“I’m beginning to see that conversations while you’re eating should be kept light,” he said. Then he tapped her plate with his fork. “Eat up. Let’s talk about this after.”
She ate for a few minutes, everything she’d learned running through her head. Hadn’t Abby hinted at this earlier this afternoon. And the way she’d talked about Kent . . .
“Is Abby a Little?” She glanced up at him.