Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“And Jack?”
“Jack’s a Dominant.” He didn’t say anymore.
But she understood. It wasn’t fair to talk about Jack without him here. She wanted to ask about Jameson. But held back.
“Are you a Little, Maggie?”
She nodded.
“Words, Little girl.”
Whoa. Bossy, grouchy Ian was hell on her libido. He made her head spin and her body take notice.
But kind, sweet Ian was almost more than she could take. Tears filled her eyes and she sniffled.
“Yes.”
“Ahh, precious girl. It’s all right. I know it’s hard to be vulnerable, to talk about these things. But you’re doing so well. You don’t have a Daddy?”
“No.”
“Good. I was going to tell you that he was a crap one who didn’t deserve you if he let you travel around on your own.”
“Hey! Just because I’m a Little doesn’t mean I can’t travel around on my own!”
“If you were my Little, you wouldn’t be allowed to.”
That shouldn’t send a shiver down her spine. It really shouldn’t. “I think someone is living in the Stone Ages.”
“I’m just very protective of the people who belong to me. And I would guard my Little with my life. She’d be protected, cherished, cared for.”
“And unable to sit comfortably, I’m guessing.”
He grinned. “Only if she was naughty.”
She guessed he wanted someone who obeyed the rules. Maggie could see his Little now. She’d be sweet and perfect and she wouldn’t ruin dinner, then hide in a bathtub.
Okay, it wasn’t normal to feel like punching an imaginary woman.
“You and Jack will share her?”
“Hopefully, Jameson too. We’ve had the same girlfriend before. But Jameson doesn’t think that’s what he wants anymore. He’s wrong.”
She had to roll her eyes at his words.
“Jameson was already working at the hospital here when Jack and I accepted a job. Escana is a special place where all sorts of relationships are accepted. Where we wouldn’t have to hide who we are.”
Where they could find that special person they were obviously looking for.
A tremble rocked through her and Ian’s eyes narrowed. “It can’t be comfortable in that bathtub. Let’s get you out.”
Her thumb slid back into her mouth. She wasn’t ready to get out yet. This bathtub was her safe space.
And yes, she knew she was being odd and would likely be embarrassed as hell later.
But she wasn’t ready to go back to reality.
“What did I say about that thumb?” Ian said sternly, drawing it out of her mouth. “It’s dirty and unhygienic.”
“It’s already been in my mouth, so it’s clean now.”
He grimaced. “It’s not.” He stood.
Great, he was disgusted by her and was going to leave. Instead, he grabbed a face cloth and wet it in the sink before returning to her. Grabbing her hands, he washed them both gently.
That was . . . really kind.
She slid her thumb into her mouth again as he got back up and rinsed the cloth.
With a sigh, he shook his head as he returned. “You need a dummy.”
She slid her thumb out. “I don’t. I’m not a baby.”
He raised one eyebrow. “It’s not just babies who use dummies. Big Little girls and boys use them as well.”
“I like my thumb,” she mumbled around her thumb since she couldn’t be bothered pulling it out.
“What did I say about talking with your mouth full?” The look he gave her was stern yet kind at the same time. She couldn’t quite explain it. This was a whole other side of Ian she hadn’t seen before.
It was his Daddy side.
That realization hit her hard. Because she was reacting to him. Her Little felt safe around him. She rarely let herself be like this with anyone. But with Ian . . . it felt right.
And that was terrifying.
Time to be Big again.
“I should get up. Clean up the mess. Maybe order pizza. Do they have pizza here?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s pizza everywhere,” Ian replied.
“Really? Everywhere? What about Antarctica? Or the North Pole?”
“You don’t think penguins and Santa like pizza? Pretty sure you can’t be that jolly without eating some pizza.”
Truth.
“I like Santa.”
“Of course you do. Who wouldn’t?”
“When I was a kid, my older sister told me that Santa wasn’t real. I cried and ran to my mum so she could tell me the truth.”
“And what did she say?” he asked, growing tense.
She smiled sadly. “That I was too old to believe in silly fairy tales. That of course he wasn’t real.”
“How old were you?” he asked.
“I think I’d just turned five.”
He started swearing under his breath.
“I guess she’s right. It’s better to face reality than live in a fantasy world.”
“Nothing wrong with fantasies or dreams,” he told her fiercely. “Understand?”
She shook her head. “I can’t live with my head in the clouds all the time. Reality has a way of intruding. There are always bills to pay and chores to be done. I’m an adult now.”
He still didn’t look happy.
“And I need to go clean up my mess.”