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Mia felt a mix of apprehension and curiosity churn in her stomach. She had never indulged in such innocent activities since she could remember. But the thought of letting go, even for a moment, appealed to her.
"Okay," she said tentatively.
Jax rose from the couch and disappeared into the small kitchen area of the cabin. Mia heard the clinking of dishes and rummaging before he returned with a plate of Oreo cookies and two glasses of milk.
"Here we go, princess," Jax announced cheerfully, setting the treats on the coffee table in front of them. Then, he went to his backpack and took out some paper and colored pens. “Let’s do some drawing together.”
Mia watched, intrigued, as Jax laid out the drawing materials. It felt like stepping into a world she had long forgotten, a world where simple pleasures existed without fear or pain. She tentatively picked up a colored pencil, feeling its smooth surface against her fingertips.
Jax flashed her a warm smile. "What should we draw first?"
Mia tilted her head, eyes scanning the room for inspiration. Then she noticed the flickering flames dancing in the fireplace, casting an ethereal glow across the cabin. "Let's draw the fire," she suggested.
With a nod, Jax started sketching on his paper while Mia followed suit. The scratch of pencils on paper filled the cabin, a harmonious melody of creativity mingling with crackling firewood. As they drew, Mia found herself losing track of time, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
When they finished, Mia held up her drawing next to Jax's. Their styles were different—his precise and detailed, hers spiky and jagged.
“That’s great, babygirl,” Jax told her. “I really like the movement in yours. It’s almost like the fire’s alive. It’s dynamic.”
Mia felt her cheeks heat up. “Thank you. It . . . feels good to be praised by you.” She paused. “I bet you’re a very good Daddy.” Her hand shot to her mouth. “Not to me, I mean. To someone else. A Daddy to someone else.”
Jax smiled. “I haven’t ever had a Little of my own. Not really. I’ve dabbled in the club scene a little. But I’ve always been so busy. My brothers and I, we’re always working.”
Mia screwed up her nose. “But your brother, Blake, has time for a Little. Savannah. Wouldn’t you like one?”
Jax looked into Mia’s eyes. “If I found the right person.”
Mia blinked at him. “What do you think the right person would be like?”
“Hmmm,” said Jax, playfully tapping his chin. He picked up his crayon and began to draw a stickman. “They’d have to have a head, of course, like this, and a body, and most likely arms and legs, though that’s not a prerequisite.”
Mia snorted with laughter. “So you’d take just about anyone?”
“I haven’t finished yet,” said Jax, coloring in his picture. “They’d have to be bright, and brave, and on my wavelength. Oh, and they’d have to be hot. Super hot. obviously.”
Mia looked down at the stick person Jax was coloring, noticing that he’d given it dark skin and green eyes. “Hey, that looks a lot like me.”
“Does it?” said Jax. “It’s a coincidence, honest.”
“Dark skin and green eyes?” Mia pursed her lips. “It’s a pretty rare combo.”
Jax’s eyes moved from Mia’s eyes to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “It’s a damn gorgeous combo, Mia. I guess you must have inspired me.” He sighed. “Anyway, the main thing I’m looking for in a Little is someone who can put up with me and my . . . quirks.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “Your quirks?”
“Well, maybe not quirks. Let’s say it like it is. My addiction.”
Mia swallowed. “You’re an addict?”
This was not good news. She’d been around far too many addicts in her life to know that they meant trouble. What was Jax addicted to? Coke? Crack? Sex?
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Tech is my weakness.”
Mia couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Tech?”
Jax nodded. “Yeah. It’s pretty serious I’m afraid.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” said Mia, trying to keep a straight face. “I’ve known some really messed-up crack addicts in my time, but you’re right, tech is just as serious.”
