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30
Maggie was so bored.
And she was worried about Uncle Willy. It was all very well for Jack and Ian to say they’d take care of him. But they didn’t know what was wrong with him . . . and she couldn’t tell them.
Was she doing the wrong thing? What if something happened to her uncle while she was just lying in bed? What if he needed something and she wasn’t there to give it to him?
Well . . . she didn’t have to stay in bed. They weren’t the bosses of her.
Yeah, but you want them to be.
Shut up, silly inner voice, you know nothing. I am a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man. Or men. Even if they are super-hot.
You can be that and still submit to someone you trust. Let them take control to give you a break from . . . well, me to start with.
Urgh. She had to stop thinking about what it would be like to actually belong to Ian and Jack. Even for a small while.
With a sigh, she tried to concentrate on the television, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was distracting her.
What if Uncle Willy was confused? What if he needed her?
Would it really matter if she got up and did some yoga? Her hip wasn’t feeling that bad. Perhaps she could slip out of the bedroom, check on Uncle Willy, and then head up to the roof deck where her yoga mat was.
Surely swimming would be good for her hip too? Perhaps she should get into her bathing suit.
Actually, no. That seemed like too much effort.
After Jameson left, Jack had picked her up and carried her upstairs. Ian had followed with an ice pack. They were supposed to be coming back to run a bath for her. That had been over an hour ago.
They’ve forgotten you.
Moving to the side of the bed, she stood and tested her weight.
Pfft. That hardly hurt at all.
It was a three at worst.
Opening the door to the bedroom, she peeked out. Okay, she felt like some sort of clandestine spy . . . it was kind of fun.
What could her number be? Secret Agent 26. She giggled to herself.
Shoot.
Playing in the bouncy castle yesterday had made her Little side want to come out and play more.
She wanted Jack to be her fun Daddy. Ian to be her stern Daddy.
And Jameson . . . nope. She wasn’t going there.
He was not sexy Daddy. Or doctor Daddy.
Yum . . . medical roleplay. She loved reading books with medical play and watching those scenes at the club.
Walking carefully across the hall, she knocked on her uncle’s door and stepped in.
“Hello, dear. Are you all right?” Uncle Willy frowned. “The grouchy one said your hip was hurting you and that they would check in regularly on me until you were up and moving better.”
“They’re fussing over nothing. I’m fine. Are you all right? How is your headache?”
