Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Blakely felt like she’d been run over by a truck.
She lay on the bed, breathing heavily, as Stafford rose and walked into the bathroom. She could hear water running.
Was he having a shower?
She was too tired to go investigate. In fact, she might just fall asleep right now.
Something touched her leg, pulling on it. She let out a mumble of discontent until something warm was placed over her pussy. She sighed in delight before opening her eyes.
Wait. What was happening?
“You can go to sleep, darlin’,” Stafford told her as he started cleaning between her legs. “I’ll get you cleaned up and into bed.”
Holy. Heck.
“I can do that!” she said hastily, reaching for the cloth.
But he lightly pushed her hand away. “Nope. I’m taking care of you. And you’re going to let me.”
“Oh, I am?” she countered.
“Yes, this is part of me being bossy and in charge. I get to look after you. This is what I like to do. I like to be needed, darlin’.”
She knew that.
And it didn’t hurt her to have him take care of her.
After finishing, he stood and lifted her up onto her feet. “Come and brush your teeth.”
“I want to sleep, though.”
“I know you do. Soon.” He grabbed a blanket and tucked it around her before picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom door.
She stiffened. Was he taking her back to her bedroom? Did he not want to sleep with her?
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asked.
“I . . . um . . . I have to go to my bedroom?”
“Just to get your things. You need your toothbrush and PJs. And anything else you need to sleep.”
“Oh.” Silly her. He didn’t want to get rid of her.
“We can move the rest of your things into my bedroom in the morning.”
“My things into your bedroom?” Her brain was scrambling to keep up with him.
“Yes. You can pack everything up, and I’ll carry it.”
“It isn’t too soon?” she asked as he set her down in her bathroom. She gathered up the things she needed, putting them into her toilet bag.
“Too soon? No, it’s not,” he said firmly.
“You’re sure you want me to live with you?” She slipped past him into the bedroom to put a pair of pajamas on. She didn’t have any sexy pajamas, but she had some silky purple ones with black bats on them.
They would have to do.
“You already live with me, darlin’.”
“Not quite the same thing. Grandpa Jack?—”
“Is the one who sent me after you tonight,” he interrupted her. “He’s going to be ecstatic that I finally made a move on you. All right?” He cupped her face between his hands. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Right.
Of course it would.
She didn’t know why she was worrying. It’s just . . . she still wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to be her Daddy because it’s what he wanted . . . or he thought he had to. For her.
Worry about it later.
“Anything else?” he asked.
She snuck a glance over at the bed where Mrs. Flopsy and Mr. Whiskers sat.
“Nope. I’m good.”
But he was far too observant for her own good. His gaze went over to the toys.
“Do you sleep with your toys?” he asked.
“No,” she scoffed and turned to walk toward the door. But his arm slid around her waist.
“Not so fast, young lady.”
Uh-oh.
That ‘young lady’ didn’t sound good.
She gulped.
“Did you just lie to me?” he asked.
“Um. Who? Me?”
“Yes, you. Because I think you did. I think you do sleep with your toys and for some reason you don’t want to admit that.”
Drat.
She really had to learn to lie better.
Or perhaps not lie at all?
Hmm. Food for thought.
“Well, uh . . . I guess I do sleep with them. But if I’m going to sleep with you, then I won’t need them, will I?”
He turned her to face him. Grasping hold of her chin, he tilted her head back. “First of all, if you want to sleep with your toys as well as me, then that’s what you’ll do. Second, you just lied to me. That’s not allowed. I don’t care what your reasons are for the lie, you are never to do it. Understand me?”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Good girl.” He wrapped one arm around her waist as he landed several sharp smacks to her ass with his other hand.
“Ouch!” she cried. “What was that for?”
“For lying to me. That was a small warning. Lie again and your punishment will be far harsher, understand?”
She pouted. “Yes.”
“Go get your toys. Let’s go to bed.”
Rushing over, she grabbed Mrs. Flopsy and Mr. Whiskers. Blakely still wasn’t sure that Stafford knew what he was getting himself into.
But what she did know was that she didn’t want to lose him.
So perhaps they should take this slow. She’d let him set the pace and she wouldn’t overwhelm him too much with her Little side.
Yeah, that seemed like the best plan.