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Chapter 7
It was pitch black when Kyra woke, her heart hammering in her chest and images of her dream flashing through her head: Richard on the other end of the phone saying he wanted that other woman and not Kyra, that he’d just been using her to get ahead in the music industry. Then somehow they were on her tour bus, and he was yelling at her in front of the crew, telling her she was useless, that she wasn’t pretty enough or talented enough. That he’d never cared about her and she was stupid to think so. That he’d indulged her Little side to get what he wanted.
She sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks, wanting them to stop, but they wouldn’t.
Why did she even care what Richard thought about her? She was learning that he had been a bad Daddy to her, and he’d done her wrong, maybe in more ways than one. He had lied to her, used her, cheated on her, and who knows what else? She was done with him. Done!
But she couldn’t seem to stop crying. She grabbed her new pony stuffy and held on tight, but it wasn’t enough. She jumped out of bed and ran to Brock's door, but stopped before going in. It was open a crack and she peered into the room. She could barely see him, with just a little bit of light coming from the one small lamp he’d left on in the living area. He looked like he was deep asleep, and she didn’t want to bug him, but she needed him.
She dropped her stuffy, ran across the room and crawled into his bed, curling right up on his broad chest.
“Wha…? Ky? What’s wrong?”
He started to sit up, but she dug in, muttering, “Please, Brock. Can I stay here? Please?”
“Ky? You’re crying. Did something happen?”
“I had a bad dream. About him. Richard. And I just… I need you.”
“Well, shit,” he murmured quietly.
She thought he was going to order her back to her own bed, or maybe that he was mad she’d woken him up, but he pulled her tighter against his big body.
“I’m sorry, Ky. I’m sorry he did these terrible things to you. I could honestly strangle him with my bare hands.”
“You could?” she sniffled, somehow comforted by his anger.
“I’d do anything I could to keep you from hurting, Ky. Don’t you know that?”
“I… I guess I do.”
“What do you need from me?” he asked.
“Just this. Can I please stay here?”
“You mean all night? You want to sleep here?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
He was quiet for a long minute.
“Okay. Come on. Snuggle in. I’ll keep you safe, and hopefully you won’t have any more bad dreams.”
“I won’t if I’m here with you,” she told him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
He gave her a squeeze, and she let her body relax against his.
Brock felt the tension leave Kyra’s slim body as he held her, and soon her breathing slowed into a quiet rhythm. She was asleep, leaving him to think.
He thought about how much he wanted to strangle that dickhead, and while he was at it, he was going to see that Kyra hired a new attorney and accountant, too. He didn’t trust anyone Richard had hired, other than Kyra’s road crew, who he knew personally. They were good people. But mostly he thought about how much he loved having her there with him. How he really would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe, to make her understand that she was safe with him, always.
Safe even from him. Because lately it felt like their dynamic was shifting. He’d always been protective of her, first because it was his job, then pretty quickly he’d developed a personal investment in her. Kyra was talented and sometimes too damn smart for her own good. She was headstrong and bratty and funny. And… beautiful.
She was beautiful when she was in Big mode and freaking adorable as a kitten when she was in Little mode. He liked her in Little mode. He wasn’t supposed to, but damn, that girl was completely charming, and when she was in that space his drive to take care of her was stronger than ever.
He’d always known he was a little kinky. He’d had submissives before, although it had been a long while. And it was time he admitted it wasn’t because he was always busy with looking after Ky and traveling with her. It was because of Ky. Because he couldn’t possibly want anyone else. The need to keep her safe and happy was what got him out of bed every day, and more and more lately he went to sleep every night thinking about her. It wasn’t all about protecting her, although that was tied up with everything else. It was also about the fact that he wanted her, that he wanted her under his hands. He wanted to be the one to instruct her, to dress her up, to discipline her when she needed it, to give her presents that would make her squeal in delight. To care for Little her.
He had to face facts: he wanted to be Ky’s Daddy.
