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He’d see about that. Already her eyes were drifting shut.
“Right, the rules. Rule number one is no lying or keeping anything from me.”
She snorted. His hand twitched with the urge to spank some of that sass out of her.
“Rule number two, no hurting yourself.”
“I didn’t hurt myself.”
Yeah. He really believed that.
“Rule three, you have to tell me if you’re in any trouble, if you hurt yourself, if someone is threatening you.”
“The arrogance of this man,” she muttered.
“I’m not arrogant. I’m just that good.”
“At what?”
“Everything,” he told her.
“Any more ridiculous rules?” she asked while snuggling into him. She wiggled against his dick and he had to grit his teeth.
Fuck. She was going to have him jacking off every hour at this rate.
“These rules are not ridiculous, mocosa. And you can ignore them at your peril.”
The only reply was a loud sigh. Was she falling asleep?
“Next rule, you will not attempt to leave this building without permission. Or go into any rooms you have not been given clearance for.”
“Is this the Pentagon?”
“No. This is worse.”
She leaned back to stare up at him. “What secrets have you got to hide?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Do I get to make rules for you?” she asked.
Rules for him? Lord. “No.”
“Why not?” She pouted.
“Because this is my house.”
“I won’t be here for long.”
“No,” he agreed. “But while you are, these rules stay in place. Next rule, you will not disrespect yourself or me.”
“How would I disrespect myself?”
“By not looking after yourself. Not eating enough or drinking water or getting enough sleep.”
“I don’t need a rule for that.”
“I disagree.”
“I don’t like that. It’s annoying.”
“Don’t like what?” he asked.
“When you disagree with me.”
“You’d rather have someone who agreed with your every word? Who’d let you get away with anything? Like taking public transportation,” he sneered. “That’s another rule.”
“I can’t go on the bus?”
“No.”
“But there are no buses in your house. And these rules are for while I’m here.”
Damn it. She was right.
“You still won’t take the bus. And if I find out you have, I’ll take you over my knee and spank you. Do you understand?”
“Uh-huh, big boss man, the big kahuna, I gots you. Totally gots you. I have caught the big boss man wave and I am riding it to understanding town.”
Fuck him. He wasn’t sure that she did understand him. Especially as another long sigh escaped her. She was close to sleep.
This was the perfect time to question her.
“Cat, are you a Little?”
For fuck’s sake. That wasn’t what he’d planned to ask her. It wasn’t important if she was a Little or not.
“I’s little.”
“You are?”
“Sooo short. Stopped growing. Everyone else got tall, but nots me. Stayed short. Not cool. Called all the short names. Shortstuff, pipsqueak, squirt . . . Sampson used to pick me up to carry me when we had to move quick cause my legs so short. Mean.”
Who the fuck was Sampson? Jealousy reared its fork-tongued head and he tried to chop its head off.
He wasn’t successful.
“Sampson?”
“Me friend. Sleep now.”
“Soon, Pequeña,” he soothed. A friend called Sampson. Another fact to file away.
Also, he better only be a friend.
Because Alejandro De Leon wasn’t a man who shared.
“I wasn’t talking about your size. I meant, are you a submissive? A Little?”
“I don’t know . . .”
Did she not know about Littles? About age play and regression? Or was she just not sure if she was a Little?
“Have you heard of dominance and submission? Of BDSM?”
Another snort. “Course.”
“Littles and their Tops are a subset of that. A Little looks to her Top for guidance and care. For boundaries and consequences. There is no one size fits all for this sort of relationship. A Little is usually a sub who regresses to a younger age. They might like having special toys, or coloring, or having tea parties, or they might go even younger and enjoy pacifiers and bottles and sleeping in a crib. They might wear diapers and onesies, or like tutus and sparkly clothes, or maybe they’re little tomboys in overalls. And they have rules their Top sets for them and punishments if they don’t follow them.”
“Likes the rules you gave me.”
Shit. He stiffened.
“Cause you’re a Daddy, right?”
“I’m not anymore.”
“Hmm. I thinks you are. You just donts want to admit it.”
“Another rule,” he snapped. “You will not ask me about my personal life. Also, next rule, you will not bite your nails. Next rule —”
A snore interrupted his recitation of the rules.
Well, fuck.
When the hell had she fallen asleep? With a groan, he leaned his head back. This was what he wanted. For her to fall asleep. Although he hadn’t been expecting her to slip off to sleep when he was talking to her about her rules.
Fuck. How was she making him want things he’d long ago discarded?
How was she making him want her?
20
Cat woke up with a gasp of fear.
