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“Hmm. I know someone else who is naughty.”
“Am I in trouble, Daddy?” She worried at her lip and he freed it gently, rubbing his thumb over it.
“Not serious trouble. But no more splashing. Or you’ll be getting five spanks as well as some corner time.”
He grabbed another towel and wiped off his face as a knock came at the door. She dove further under the bubbles.
Beck rubbed her shoulder soothingly. “They won’t come in without permission.”
Right. Okay.
He went to the door and there was a short conversation that she couldn’t make out. Then he returned with a sippy cup filled with water and cut-up pieces of strawberry.
Beck crouched down, holding the sippy cup. “Judd wanted you to drink more water, and he thought the sippy cup would be easier to drink from in the bath. I think he also really wanted to see if you would use this cup. It’s brand new.”
The cup had a picture of a panda on the front. It was cute. And she did like strawberries.
“Judd is a caregiver.”
“And a Grumpzilla.”
Beck grinned. “That too. But he’s also extremely loyal to the people he cares about. And a bit of a jerk too. It’s all part of his charm.”
“Are you trying to sell him to me?”
“Hey. No. Judd can make his own holes and then crawl his way back out of them. I just . . . our ex, Ester, left us for another man. And I think that was hardest on him. All Judd wants is a family. And this is him trying to show he cares because he’s not necessarily good at verbalizing it.”
“He talks plenty,” she said.
“Yeah, and most of what he says is the wrong thing.”
She couldn’t argue that. She thought she understood what he was saying. Reaching out, she took the sippy cup, and Beck gave her a relieved look that changed to happiness.
“I was hoping you’d like the sippy cup too. Is there anything else your Little needs that we can provide? You can tell us.”
She took a few sips of the water. Much better with the strawberry in it. Judd was smarter than he looked.
“Chloe? You can tell me.” He moved the cloth lower toward her pussy. He watched her carefully as though waiting for her to react. She had to work hard not to close her legs.
He ran the cloth up the lips of her pussy, making her gasp slightly.
“Aren’t you a good girl, letting Daddy take care of you,” he murmured in a husky voice. “Tell Daddy what else you need.”
Like an orgasm? The cloth moved even lower, toward her bottom. She clenched down. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for him to touch her there.
“Have you had someone play with your bottom hole before? Have you had them finger you? Fuck you?”
“N-no. Well, just Owen last night. He touched me there.”
Pleasure filled his face. “Good. Are you going to let me touch you there, Freckles?”
“I . . . I . . .”
“Too soon? Daddy will just clean you.” Instead of the cloth, she could feel his finger moving lower. “Raise your hips.”
Before she could even think about it, she’d pushed her hips up and he was sliding his hand under her ass, running his finger between her cheeks and over her hole. She clenched tighter and he kissed her lightly.
“Good girl. There you are. Just relax. That’s it.” It was hard to relax with where his finger was. And this position didn’t exactly help.
“Good girl. Daddy is all done.”
Another knock came on the door and she stiffened again.
“That’s just Judd with something for you to get into for your nap.” He got up, washed his hands and then opened the door. Judd must have just dropped something off because there was no conversation at the door this time. When she saw what he held up, her heart raced.
“Judd likes pandas.” He held up a white onesie with images of pandas on it. It even had built-in socks and mittens and when he turned it around she saw there was a drop seat.
It was utterly adorable.
And she wanted it on now.
But what if someone saw her?
Shut it, Chloe. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
“Hey,” Beck said quietly. “If you don’t want to wear this, or don’t like it, then you don’t have to.”
“It’s not that,” she whispered. “I love it. I just . . . maybe I love it too much. I might not want to take it off.” It was only half the problem and the way he was looking at her showed her that he knew he wasn’t getting the full story.
“Will anyone else see me?” she asked.
“Other than us? No, Freckles. No one ever wants to do anything to embarrass you.”
“I just . . . I hate the idea that people are talking about me, making fun of me. I know I should be tougher, that I shouldn’t care . . . but I can’t help it.”
