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She’d wandered past him to stand in the middle of the room, her eyes wide as she took in the space. “I think this may be larger than my entire apartment.”
It was an exaggeration, though not by much from what he’d seen of her space. “Then you should be comfortable enough. But if you need anything, my bedroom is just down the hall, past the stairs. If you can’t find me, there’s a house intercom.” He tapped the speaker built into the wall. “Just push this white button here, wait for the beep, and speak. I’ll be able to hear you anywhere in the house, and vice versa.”
“Okay.”
The last thing he wanted was to leave her standing there, looking like a lost little girl in need of a hug, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t have been welcome even if he did try to comfort her. “All right. Well. I’m going back downstairs to get some work done. Feel free to use the intercom or come find me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”
“Oh.” A frown pulled her brows together. “Isn’t-isn’t this your job?”
“It used to be,” he said, keeping his voice light and hopefully free of the familiar pain that stabbed at his chest. “And I still do some security work on the side. But now I own a chain of adult stores, which is where the bulk of my income comes from at the moment.”
The furrow between her brows deepened, then disappeared entirely as her eyes widened. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
“Did Bryant neglect to mention that’s how we met?”
Embarrassed color flooded her cheeks, and he nearly grinned at the adorably flustered picture she made. “Mr. Monroe didn’t tell me anything other than you would be babysitting me for the foreseeable future.”
“Well, maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll tell you the story over dinner.” He really needed to stop calling her that. It was out of line. But how was he supposed to resist when her whole face lit up like Christmas every time he said those words?
His incredibly unhelpful brain conjured up an image of her on her knees, smiling up at him just like she was now. Only, in his imagination, there were tear tracks drying on her cheeks, and her lips were red and swollen from taking his cock down her throat.
“I’ll, ah, get out of your hair,” he forced himself to say before he did something stupid like kiss her. Or worse. “Come find me if you need anything. That’s a rule, by the way.”
Again with that contemplative little frown that made him want to nibble on her bottom lip until she forgot all of her worries. “What happens if I break a rule?”
Then Daddy will have to spank your adorable little butt until it’s red and hot and you promise to never ever be naughty again.
“That’s a good question.” The answer was mostly a stall for time, to get his suddenly out of control libido back under wraps. “I would prefer for you to not break them at all, since they are all there for your protection in one way or another. But if you do break one, I think writing the broken rule down fifty times would be a good way to help you remember.”
Now it was her nose that scrunched up rather than her forehead, making her seem so much younger than she really was. “Yuck. That sounds boring.”
“It would be. And every time you break the rule, the count goes up by another fifty. But you’re a good girl, aren’t you, MaryAnn? So, it won’t be a problem.”
“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir, it won’t be a problem.”
“Good. Well, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll come find you when lunch is ready. I usually eat right at noon, but if you want to wait, I can always put yours up until you’re hungry.”
“Noon is fine. I don’t normally eat lunch anyway.”
Yet another thing that would not fly if she were his Little girl. Biting his tongue against a lecture, he nodded and turned to leave.
“Dean?”
At the door, he turned back around. “Yes?”
She hesitated, whatever war she was inwardly raging clearly playing out on her face. But then she took a halting step forward, and then another. Seemingly gathering her courage, she hurried the last couple of steps and rose up onto her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, for keeping me safe.”
“My pleasure.” Somehow, he managed to get the words out past the lump that had formed in his throat at the simple gesture. “I’ll see you at lunch, unless you need me sooner.”
* * *
She didn’t seekhim out, even for lunch. At a quarter past noon, he carried a tray up the stairs. “Room service!” he called cheerfully through the closed door of her bedroom.
When she didn’t answer, he placed the tray on the floor and knocked. “MaryAnn? If you don’t answer me, I’m going to have to open the door myself so I know you’re okay.”
Still no answer.
Hopefully she’d taken the nap he’d suggested. With that possibility in mind, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open slowly. “MaryAnn?”
