[𝐌𝐱𝐌]
"I want you, badly," he says with pleading eyes.
"Oh yeah?" I cock an eyebrow.
I watch as he swallows nervously, not knowing what my next words will be. It's not often that I taunt him like this, but when I do, he doesn't know what to expe...
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Monday, February 27th
Dawson said he would take me shopping as a treat even though he already spoils me so much. Funny thing is he does these things, but still can't admit he's a sugar daddy.
...
Only joking.
He's starting to recognize basic French phrases that I tell him, although it took him a while until he finally understood me. He mainly only knows what I'm saying by my hand movements, but it's kind of cute watching him try to figure it out.
So far, Dawson has offered to hold the clothes that I pick out as I browse the store. He surprisingly hasn't complained a single time. When I see a sweater that I like, I hold it out for him to take but then quickly change my mind. He furrows his eyebrows and still has his hands ready to hold anything I give him.
As I go back to looking in the section, he holds up the same sweater that I put down. "I think this would look good on you."
I turn towards the mirror, and Dawson holds it up in front of me so that I can see how it would look on my body. He's right, but this will only feed into my sweater addiction.
"I'm going to look at something over there for a second," he says, nodding to a section of clothes across the store.
I give him a quick smile. "Okay."
He heads off, and I continue to look through. I've put a limit on how much I want to get, considering I don't want Dawson draining his money on me. Not like he'll ever run out of it.
I find something else that appeals to me, and I feel someone else's presence behind me. I pull the clothing off the rack to show Dawson, who I assume is the one there, and I turn around, still inspecting it.
"What about this?" I ask without looking at him.
"Looks great."
A man with a raspy voice responds, and I slowly look up. The clothes in my hand drop to the floor, and I back up with careful steps. My back hits something stiff and before I know it, my vision is restricted by a cloth.
Then, just as I try to get a word out, there's a blunt force that makes contact with my head.
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