Expensive - Amy Bellows Page 0,66

it was probably a wild animal—not to worry about it.

But I wanted to keep my brothers and sisters safe.

I didn’t see my captors before I felt something poke my neck. In that moment, I knew they were capturing me, but I didn’t know how much my life would change. I didn’t know how much I would change.

It isn’t until now that I fully understand how little I’ve changed too. I gave up my freedom to keep my siblings safe. I gave up my hand to save Andrew. The thing that got me banished from my home is the core of who I am: I take care of the people I love.

Sergey turns around again. It’s time to shift back, but I can take this form whenever I want now—whenever I need to.

Matthew may have grown up, but he’s not gone.

31

Timber

Three weeks later…

As the days pass, more stuffies find their way onto our bed. At first I think Andrew simply found a new toy store, and I humor him. I enjoy playing with him, and there’s certainly space in our new home.

But there isn’t space for me to lie on the bed anymore. It’s too full of stuffed otters, foxes, and panda bears. I sit at the edge of the bed and smile at my baby boy, who has Bluebell the ice dragon clutched firmly to his chest.

“I think the stuffies have taken over,” I say.

Andrew smiles up at me. “It’s the stuffie uprising.”

According to all the books about age play Andrew has read to me, littles and middles use simpler words when they retreat to their little or middle space. Not my baby boy. That vocabulary of his never turns off.

It’s one of the things I love about him.

“Is there a place where I can sleep on this bed, or do I have to sleep on the couch?” I ask.

Andrew considers my question for a moment. “It’s not the stuffies’ fault they’ve ended up in enemy territory. They didn’t have a choice, Daddy. They were ripped from their homes at the toy store and brought here against their will. Have a little mercy.”

I pull back the covers, and the stuffies all rush toward him in a big heap.

Andrew laughs. “We have a serious overpopulation problem.”

“We may need some immigration laws,” I say.

He shakes his head and grabs at my T-shirt, pulling me closer to him. “The return rack is a ghastly place, Daddy. Many a stuffie never survives that fate.”

I lay down next to him and give him a soft kiss on his cheek. The doctor warned me that Andrew may develop some eccentric behavior before laying his eggs. I assumed he would start eating pickles with ice cream or crying when we watched sad movies together, but as his stomach has gotten bigger, he’s retreated to his little space more and more. It’s been days since we’ve had sex, and honestly, I’m fine with that. I don’t think I could ever get sick of little Andrew.

Except when I don’t have a place to sleep because his stuffie collection has gotten out of control.

“Is this a new hoard you’ve started collecting here?” I ask, gesturing to the mountain of stuffies between us.

He ducks his head in that sweet way that will always make me smile. “I just wanted them.”

“It’s okay, baby boy.” How can I tell him no when he’s carrying my babies and ducking his head like that? He’s got me wrapped around his little finger.

“The toy store has a new shipment coming in tomorrow,” he says. “They’re going to have penguins, Daddy. And puffins. I have to buy them. I can’t just let puffin stuffies stay on the shelf. That would be a crime against stuffie humanity.”

Oh God. We have a stuffie humanity now.

“Fine. You can buy one penguin and one puffin stuffie, but they have to live on the couch.”

He shakes his head slowly. “They will be lonely, Daddy. We can’t resign them to that fate.”

“Maybe some of the other stuffies could also move to the couch.”

But Andrew isn’t having it. “They have more opportunities on the bed. We can’t banish them to a place where they won’t ever get a chance to be played with.”

“What about the floor?” I suggest hopefully.

“The floor is lava.”

Damn it. I need to put my foot down. I’m the Daddy here. I should be in charge of this situation.

No one ever warned me that a little is far more difficult to control than your standard sub brat. You can’t just spank