She wanted to tell him that either explanation was fine with her—nature, childhood development—however he wanted to rationalize it, the important part was that it just was, no reason other than fundamental human nature. Many people had these thoughts, no need to be ashamed, no need to worry about why.

“I think you like the idea of being a little girl.”

She shook her head, but it was a feeble attempt.

“I think you wished you were Katie.” He ran his finger under the elastic of her panties. “Is that what you wished?”

She could feel the heat of his hand, and she willed his fingers higher.

“Hmm?” He smiled. “You’re a naughty little girl for thinking those thoughts, aren’t you?”

The blood rushed to her head. Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. Those words: naughty … little … girl. Her chest tightened, and she thought she might lose all ability to breathe.

He pulled her to him, and in a moment she was over his lap and back to the hazy world where she existed exclusively for him. And then she was on her feet, nose pressed to the corner, panties lowered, and then on the bed—on her knees, her back, her stomach—all real and all for him. She felt so powerless that when he finally lay beside her and asked her to kiss him, she had to remember that she was in charge of her own body.

“Pretty girl,” he said.

She snuggled into his chest and gripped him tightly. “How did you know?” she stumbled. “How did you know I would be like this?”

He kissed her head. “How did I know you were a pervert?” he teased.

She pushed away, and he rolled her on top of him.

“Magical powers,” he said.

She sat atop him and pushed her palms against his chest. “No; really,” she said.

“I didn’t. I guessed. Thought there was a high probability.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why?” he mimicked. “Because you whined when I grabbed your wrists.”

“I did not.”

“You whimpered.”

“That’s not whining, and I didn’t.”

“Whimpered, whined, either way, and, yes, you did. You whimpered … loudly.”

She sighed and pouted. “But that was later. How did you know before, in the backyard?”

“Maybe I didn’t know. Maybe I just wanted you to be.” He grinned at her.

She sighed again and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know. The way you looked at me, looked down when I stared at you, blushed, tensed. I don’t know. And that’s enough of this.” He pulled her off of him. “I’m going to get some water.”

She nodded, but when he got up, she felt such an instant rush of panic that she called him back.

“What?” he said.

“I want to come with you.”

He smiled. “All right; come,” he said and walked out of the bedroom.