We Have Till Monday by Cara Dee (moboreader .TXT) 📕

thing about active safewords. It’s always playtime, but it’s also always okay to say red.”

I was curious about that. After reaching behind me, I took a sip of my coffee before I dove into the next topic. “So the safewords aren’t reserved for special times. It’s just a replacement word for no.”

He nodded. “Eggsackly. I dated someone who introduced me to BDSM before I met Daddy, and that guy wasn’t good for me. He turned my safeword into something monumental, and it made me hesitate to use it. So when Daddy and I started exploring with kink, he helped me break that habit by, um, what’s the word… Like, he made it easier for me to say it?”

“He destigmatized it for you,” I supplied.

“Yes. That. Safewords are suppost’a be easy to say,” he said. “Before, with that other guy, I felt guilty when I wanted to say red because he’d made it such a big deal.”

That was interesting to me. I’d read about safewords before, and I’d gotten the impression they were a big deal. But I liked the way Camden and August used them. The levity was still there, using a safeword still meant business, but they’d removed the bad associations that could come with it. The word didn’t have to be linked to near-panic or fear. It could just mean a very firm no in a relationship where words like no and stop otherwise meant please fucking continue.

“I like learning about your lifestyle.” I poked his belly. “And thanks for reminding this horny bastard that you’re always up for grabs.”

He snickered. “I worried you weren’t gonna take the hint.”

I grinned and dipped down to blow a raspberry against his cheek.

“Eeep!” He tried to bat me away.

Unfortunately for him, since he was clearly in a playin’ mood, I had one more question.

“But you’re not always up for grabs, are you? You have your nonsexual moments too.”

He huffed a little. “Yeah, good luck with that, Sir. I don’t understand myself all the time, and I don’t know how Daddy manages to read me so well.” He scratched his nose and squinted. “I mean, he asks sometimes. And he says I have some tells that let him know I’ve regressed deeper.”

“What kind of tells?”

A faint blush bled across his cheeks that instantly had my attention.

“When I’m really little, I like to nurse from his thing,” he admitted and buried his face against my neck. I swallowed hard. “He can be watching a game in the TV room, and I’ll come in and ask if I can nurse and get Daddy’s special milk. Then he’ll know.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

That didn’t sound nonsexual to me. At all.

“You call that nonsexual?” I had to clear my throat. Not to mention adjust my cock that was waking up.

“It is to me,” he chuckled. “It’s just comforting—a way to connect with Daddy and spend time with him. Which frustrates him, cuz I just lie there with my head in his lap and suckle. So he gets horny but can’t, you know, thrust. And sometimes, I stop wanting it before he comes.”

Yeah, I could feel the frustration seeping into me, and it hadn’t even happened to me.

“I’ll also ask him to cut up my food more when I’m nonsexual,” he added. “I don’t like crusts on my toast. And I walk around with my stuffies more. I love stuffies. I have thirty-six of them.”

Could he get any more adorable? Camden was waking up a side of me I hadn’t known existed. To this extent, anyway. My friends and family knew I was a caregiver, but this urge to protect and nurture was bringing things to a whole new level.

I wanted to buy Camden a stuffed animal.

“I saw some cool stuffed animals at the festival.” I threw that out there.

Camden’s blue eyes flashed with excitement before he narrowed them. “But I can’t go.”

“You can.” I figured it was a good time to bring up my idea. “What if you dressed up? You could go as Darth Vader or Deadpool and be our super-secret agent. I saw several head masks on your shelves.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked skeptical. “Darth and Deadpool aren’t agents, Sir. Don’t you know anything about comics and sci-fi?”

Well, forgive me, then.

“Unlike some little punks, I actually saw Return of the Jedi in the theater as a kid.”

He found that hilarious. “Because you’re old like Daddy. He said he saw the first movie in 1977 with his sisters and mom.”

We didn’t need to discuss us being old. Compared to Camden, we were practically ancient.

“Hey, back to the topic,” I said pointedly. “What do you say? Wouldn’t it be fun to go in costume?” Preferably one that didn’t become too hot in the sun.

“Maybe,” he conceded, chewing on his lip. “I’ll ask Daddy.”

I doubted he’d say no.

Speaking of, though…

I twisted my upper body to reach my phone on the side table. Damn, time flew when you were having fun. “Topolino, you might wanna get a move on and clean your room. I think Daddy will be back soon.”

The table over on the patio was still full of his arts and crafts too.

“That’s so boring!” Camden whined.

I was undeterred, for once. August had given him chores to complete, so that took precedence.

“Sometimes we have to do boring things before we can have fun,” I replied. “You don’t wanna disobey Daddy, do you?”

“But, ohhhhh!”

I withheld my grin and smacked his butt lightly. “Come on, ragazzo. The sooner you finish, the faster we can play.”

He wasn’t amused one bit, and he huffed and complained as he got up from the sunbed and stuck his legs into a new pair of pajama bottoms.

He glared down at me. “So you’re just gonna lie there while I break my back and do my chores?”

Now I had to smile. I even stretched out and made it perfectly clear how comfortable I was. “I’m on vacation.”

The only immediate plan I had was to fetch my smokes and retract the umbrella. I