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But no. There was MaryAnn, standing just outside his office door with an adorably determined expression on her face.
Apparently, their talk wasn’t going to wait until dinner.
Bracing himself for the uncomfortable discussion to come, he locked his computer and hit the button to unlock the door. “Come in.”
“We need to talk,” she said as soon as she stepped through the door. Arms crossed, she lifted her chin, and he had to swallow a laugh at the picture she made. No doubt she was trying to look commanding, but she looked more like a stubborn Little girl whose Daddy had just told her she couldn’t have ice cream for dinner.
“We do. I was going to wait until dinner, but we can talk now, if you’d prefer.”
“Oh.” That seemed to throw her off, and the hard set of her jaw faltered slightly before she firmed it up again. “Well, I do prefer. To talk now, that is. If you’re not busy. Are you busy?”
“I don’t have anything that can’t wait. I assume this is about what happened a little while ago?”
“Yes. I’m not weak, Dean.”
Barely resisting the urge to sigh, he scrubbed his palm over his beard as he considered the best way to respond. “I never said you were.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up his hand, cutting her off. “But I’m sorry if I made you feel like I think that because I don’t. In fact, I think you’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.”
If he’d thought that would mollify her, he was wrong. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she stepped forward to jab a finger into his chest. “But not strong enough to take a few slaps on the ass?”
Again he paused, giving himself time to choose his words carefully. “It doesn’t have anything to do with being strong enough, sweetheart.”
“Bullshit.”
“Watch your language, little girl.” The warning slipped out before he thought better of it. “Sorry. Old habits.”
But she didn’t look mad. In fact, she looked more curious than anything. “If I was your Little girl, would that be a rule? No swearing?”
“Yes. But you aren’t, so I shouldn’t have scolded you. It was inappropriate.”
“What if I said I wanted to be your Little girl, though?”
“No.” But even as he refused, his mind was conjuring more images of her bare-bottomed over his knee. Humming happily to herself as she colored a picture. Drinking from one of the sippy cups he still had tucked away in his cabinets. She’d look adorable in a pair of knee-high socks and a short, fluffy skirt.
Goddammit.
“Because you’re genuinely not interested in me that way, or because you don’t think I can handle it?”
It definitely wasn’t the first, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate him saying it was the second. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Okay. Then explain it to me.”
If she’d stormed in, shouting and making demands, it would have been easy to shut her down. But when she was asking questions so calmly, and watching him with those serious eyes, he couldn’t just send her away. “I’m going to ask you something. You don’t have to give me any details you aren’t comfortable sharing, but I do need an honest answer.”
“Okay…”
“Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you have no trauma in your past that could be triggered by a dynamic where you are expected to obey and follow rules and submit to physical punishments when you break those rules?”
The corners of her lips dipped down in a frown, but she didn’t answer immediately. Which told him she was taking his question seriously instead of dismissing it outright.
Good girl.
“I do have trauma. I’ve been seeing a therapist since… since everything happened with Nate and Olivia, and I’m trying to work through it the best I can.”
“Right. So—”
“You didn’t let me finish. I have trauma, but nothing you’ve done in the past few days has come even close to triggering it. At least, not when it comes to me breaking the rules. If you’d screamed at me, or called me names, or said a bunch of nasty things to me, that would have upset me. But the spanking you gave me was just about the farthest thing from triggering. If anything, it helped me feel like… like I could let go of all the nasty things I was saying to myself for once. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” Too much sense. “I have another question, one you don’t have to answer. But I think it would help me understand you a bit better.”
