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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sable woke in the dark the next morning, and while she was so tempted to snuggle up against Jethro and go back to sleep, she knew she wouldn’t be able to.
She’d been dreaming about all the work she hadn’t done in the past couple of days and was nearing a panic attack just thinking about her inbox. She hadn’t taken this many hours off in… Well, it had probably been years, to be honest. She was her father’s little pit bull who he sicced on stubborn clients and finances that seemed like they’d never puzzle out and she was proud of that.
Or had been. More and more she felt like that was the only thing he valued about her. Not that he actually liked her. It was all about what he could get out of her, just like everyone else in his orbit and her mother was the same way.
Despite that, Sable still felt a heavy responsibility, a drive to sit down at her computer and sweat over her keyboard for hours to make things work. She’d snagged her laptop from her apartment when they’d dropped by and she snuck out of bed and grabbed a t-shirt of Jethro’s from a stack in the closet that was big enough that it would cover her diapered butt before she went downstairs to work.
She’d considered taking her diaper off when she got up because it felt odd for her to be doing grown-up work when clearly she was little and shouldn’t be responsible for anything, but she didn’t want to get in trouble.
Something told her that taking care of her own diaper would definitely be grounds for punishment and her butt and her tits still ached from last night. Although she’d maybe admired the red stripes he’d laid across her breasts and the bruising and swelling of what she could see of her ass in the bathroom mirror this morning.
She didn’t stop to eat but flipped open her laptop as she settled on the couch and logged in. Her inbox was a level of hell she could scarcely imagine and her breathing went shallow as she scrolled through it all.
Too much, it felt like it was too much. Except that she was the wunderkind, the girl who could take the impossible and make it happen and she wasn’t going stop now. Even if her shoulder did ache and she felt like a racing car that desperately needed a pitstop. Well, she’d fucking had one, hadn’t she, and now it was time to get back to work.
And if Jethro didn’t like her working, well then he could fuck off because this is who she was.
It was a couple of hours before he and the dogs made their way downstairs and her mouth watered at the sight of him. He’d only pulled on some boxer briefs after sleeping in the nude with her and he was… Wow. Just, wow.
Not cut from marble but even better sculpted from flesh and blood and bone, the muscles and tendons working together to move his body through space. He was really quite beautiful, her daddy.
His bare broad shoulders stretched out impossibly wide and despite it being December he still had the most godawful tan lines. But that barely distracted from the thick mat of hair on his chest that arrowed down toward his waistband, the swell of his biceps, the ropey muscles of his forearms, and the faint outline of his abs. Not to mention his thighs.
She’d thought they were sexy in red velvet when he squatted but watching him walk downstairs with them bare, covered only with wiry hair was basically porn. She wanted to get on her knees for him right then and there and maybe would have if he weren’t scrubbing a hand over his face and looking at her with stern, crunched brows.
“What are you doing, baby? It’s early and you went to sleep too late last night. You should still be in bed.”
“Working,” she answered flippantly with a shrug and then immediately regretted it because of the pain in her shoulder.
Jethro’s face darkened further. “You should be resting. You’re hurt and you clearly don’t get enough sleep. Did you even eat anything before you cracked open that laptop, little miss?”
Shame crept over her at her daddy’s scolding. “No, I didn’t eat anything.”
Jethro rubbed the back of his neck while he let the dogs out and then turned to her.
“Look. I know your job is important to you and I don’t want to take that away. I know you wouldn’t tolerate me messing with your work and I totally respect that. If you ever feel like I’m trying, feel free to go all ‘pansy’ on my ass.”
His silliness elicited a giggle from her, she couldn’t help it. Yes, he was frustrated, but he still wanted to make her laugh, and she thought too, remind her that her safe word wasn’t just for scenes.
He drew up an ottoman in front of her and rested his hands on her knees, rubbing up and down her thighs while looking pensive. It was shallow of her, but she liked that look on him. But had she discovered a look she didn’t like on this man yet? No.
She blinked at him because clearly he wasn’t done yet.
“But—”
Ah, yes, here it was. The “but.” There was always a “but.”
“But it also worries me that you’re clearly in pain and exhausted and you’ve put those things aside to do your work. It worries me more that I believe the people you work for expect that of you and don’t have your best interests at heart.”
Sable wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. If she didn’t get some of these numbers figured out and another proposal back to their partners, her father would surely be calling and leaving irate voice messages. Probably already had, she just hadn’t bothered to turn on her phone when she woke.
When she didn’t say anything back, Jethro continued.
“So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get some more work done while I make us some breakfast and deal with the dogs, and then I’m going to feed you. After that I’m taking you upstairs for a shower, and then you can work more while I get a few things done around the house and get lunch ready. When we’re through eating, you’re going to come with me to the greenhouse because I have some work to do over there and then you’re going to take a nap before we have to go to the CCYP benefit.”
She opened her mouth but Jethro silenced her with a glare. “This is not up for debate, unless you want to do less work. You will not do more today. And when you’re not on your laptop or in the shower, you’ll be wearing your sling. I’m going to get ice for your shoulder, and your pain meds from upstairs and you’re going to bend over the arm of the couch so I can push them into your bottom. I’ll be back in a few minutes and I don’t want any arguing so get the swearing under your breath out while I’m gone because I won’t hesitate to take you over my knee. Are we understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” was the only answer she could give.
