Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Turning off the message notifications to maintain her focus, Lyra settled back on her chair to practice. The music swelled around her. Wrapped up in the beautiful notes, Lyra didn’t look up when the door opened.
Large feet appeared in her line of vision. “Don’t bother me,” she said firmly as she continued to play.
“You have two minutes to finish up that song, and then it’s time for lunch.”
“Not hungry,” she answered as she pulled the music from the strings.
“Ninety seconds.”
Lyra bit her lip as she came to a tricky part. Her fingers and bow cooperated as she negotiated the flurry of notes. One foot began to tap. Distracted, she lost the rhythm of the piece and lifted her bow from the cello to send an artic glare at Phoenix.
“I finally mastered that part, and now I’ve screwed it up. Do you know how much work it will take to perfect it again?”
“Your practice schedule is important. Taking care of your health and enjoying life is equally essential,” Phoenix said evenly, not responding to her anger.
“I’ve got to start at the very beginning now. Go on and have lunch without me. I’ll grab something later or at dinner,” she said, waving her bow dismissively in the air.
“That’s a very expensive instrument that is important to you,” he said ominously.
“What are you going to do? Rip it out of my hands?” she challenged as the frustration of her practice welled out of her.
“No. I would never hurt your cello. You, however, will stop playing at some point.”
“Maybe I won’t.”
“Defying your Daddy is not a positive choice, Crash. You will have to stop sometime for food, water, or the bathroom.”
Lyra squirmed slightly at that last suggestion. It had been forever since she’d used the bathroom. “I bet I can wait you out.”
“Maybe. Phoenix picked up her partially finished drink and shook it. “You did drink your water. Good job, Lyra.”
The sound alone, of the water splashing, was the last straw. She jumped to her feet and took a second to balance her cello as she clenched her thighs together. “No, no, no, no, no,” she chanted for the few seconds it took to get the instrument settled.
Walking as fast as she could to the bathroom, she felt her control break just as she struggled to pull down her leggings. Lyra dropped to the toilet seat, holding her saturated panties and leggings away from her skin. “Crap!” What was she going to do? She couldn’t go out there like this, and all her clean clothes were in that room.
“Need help, Lyra?” Phoenix asked, opening the door.
“Get out!” she yelled, horrified as she tried to cover herself.
“Take a deep breath, Lyra. I’m here to help you—not embarrass you.” He set a pair of fresh leggings and panties on the vanity. “There are no secrets between a Little girl and her Daddy. I’m sorry I caused you to have an accident. That was not my purpose for shaking the cup.”
She stared at his face, trying to read his expression. “What was your reason?”
“I had asked you to drink more water. I was checking to see if you had.”
He knelt at her feet, efficiently whisked off her wet clothes, and threw them into the tub. Shifting slightly, Phoenix grabbed three washcloths from under the sink and ran the water with his hand underneath it. “Are you ready to get up?” he asked, wetting two terry-cloth squares and setting one aside on the vanity.
She nodded, trying not to cry. When she stood up, Phoenix washed her thighs and between her legs and buttocks. He then dried her with the other cloth before adding them to the pile in the bathtub.
“Let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold. Panties first.” He held them out for her to step into before helping her with the dry leggings. Phoenix lifted her out of the bathroom and grabbed the last damp cloth. He quickly washed the toilet seat and a few droplets from the floor.
With that added to the pile, he joined her in the hallway to give her a hug. “It’s all better now.”
“Thank you. I don’t ever do that,” she rushed to assure him.
“Accidents are called that for a reason. We don’t do things on purpose. Then, they’d be called ‘purposefuls’ or something like that. Let’s go wash our hands and go down to lunch,” he suggested.
“You aren’t going to say anything else?” she asked, lingering back by her room.
“I’m not.” Phoenix stepped into the bathroom to snag the clothes from the tub and held out a hand for her. “I’ll start a load of wash with these while you clean your hands at the kitchen sink.”
In just a few minutes, they were both ready to go. She hesitated at the door. “I yelled at you.”
“And thought a bunch of mean thoughts,” he confirmed.