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“Okay. Ask away.”
“Were you abused as a child?”
“Yes.” Her bottom lip trembled a bit, but her voice was strong when she continued. “Not physically or sexually, but yes. My mother—my mother was not a good person.”
Oh, babygirl.Pushing down his fury at the woman who had been meant to protect and nurture the sweet little girl in front of him, Dean nodded. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart. Mothers should be your safe haven, not the person you have to run from.”
“It’s okay. Jeanine—my therapist—she’s been helping me work through a lot of that, along with the Nate stuff. I talked to her about you.”
Instantly, he was on alert. “What? When? How? I have your phone and the only land line is here in the office.”
To his shock, she giggled, a sweet sound that would have made his heart sing if he hadn’t been feeling like a wire wound too tight. “In my head. She sort of lives there these days.”
“Ah.” Relieved to know she hadn’t somehow snuck in a phone call when he wasn’t looking, he leaned back in his chair and grinned. “They have a way of doing that. I haven’t talked to mine in a couple years, and I still hear her voice in my head.”
“You went to therapy?”
“Yes. I’d rather not talk about why though, not just yet.”
Her curiosity was written all over her face, but she gave a reluctant nod. “I understand.”
“Thank you.” Tapping his finger on the arm of his office chair, he studied her. What the hell was he supposed to do now, when she’d so neatly countered every argument he’d presented?
There was no way he was ready to be someone’s Daddy again. And if he was being brutally honest with himself, he didn’t know that he ever would be.
But he was already acting as sort of a caregiver to her, and if she wanted to explore her own desires, there was no safer place on Earth for her to do so than under his eye. Depending on how things went while she was stuck with him, he could even help her vet potential new Daddies once she was back out in the wild so to speak.
The idea of her over someone else’s knee, calling some faceless man ‘Daddy’, giving someone else all the things Dean knew he couldn’t have, had jealously bubbling in his chest but he forced it back down and focused on her. MaryAnn was all that mattered right then, not his own fucked up, confusing feelings.
“I don’t think I’m ready to dive into another permanent dynamic with someone. But,” he continued quickly when her face fell, “if you want to explore being Little, I’d be willing to help you with that while you’re here.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you can experiment with different aspects of being Little. It also means you’re much more likely to get your bottom swatted if you mouth off or break a rule.”
“Oh. That sounds… nice.”
God, was he really going to do this?
Yeah. Yeah, he was. Some small part of him had known the moment he’d laid eyes on her that this was going to happen. What that said about him, he still wasn’t sure. But she’d made her feelings on the issue clear, and he could no longer use the excuse that he was taking advantage of her to keep putting her off.
There was only one reason he was hesitating. And that was something he’d have to work through on his own. It wasn’t fair to burden her with his issues when she had so much of her own baggage still to unpack. Whatever happened between them, he wasn’t going to let his past hurt her.
“If we do this, you have to talk to me. Tell me if something upsets you, if you think a rule is unfair, if you don’t like something I do. Understood?”
Her entire face seemed to light up from within. “Yes. Of course.”
“I’m serious, MaryAnn. You won’t like the punishment for keeping things from me, especially things that affect this aspect of our relationship.”
“I understand, um, Sir.”
“Good girl.” God, he loved the way she looked at him when he praised her. “For now, the rules you have will do, along with the rule about swearing. Oh, and slamming doors. From now on, that will get your bottom paddled and your nose put in a corner until you’re ready to be a good girl again.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry about that. What about, um… you know. Sex,” she whispered, as if it were some secret she didn’t want anyone to overhear.
She was too fucking cute for words, which did nothing to help the painful erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
“Is sex something you’re interested in?”
