20. Ariana
20
ARIANA
L ast night, he took care of me.
Intimately. Carefully. Without a hint of impatience or frustration.
He dried me with a fluffy towel and kissed my forehead like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then, like there wasn’t a question in his mind whether he should do it or not, and apparently not much of one in mine, he dressed me.
He tugged a fresh pair of cotton panties into place that aren’t the least bit sexy but instead, make me feel so darn Little. Every movement was careful but sure. Strong but tender. And every movement left my cheeks and other parts of me burning hotter and hotter. I wanted to shrink away from the embarrassment and melt into him at the same time. It was definitely the hottest and sweetest thing I’ve ever experienced.
I knew how ridiculous it looked. A grown woman letting a man—no, her Daddy—do everything for her like she was helpless. But it didn’t feel ridiculous.
It felt natural.
Like we’ve been doing it forever.
By the time he finished brushing my hair and had blow-dried it until it was soft and silky again, I was floating. Squishy-brained and loose-limbed, warm all over and happy. So dang happy.
I wanted to crawl into his arms, bury my face in his neck, and never move again. When he handed me my water-filled sippy cup, I almost cried.
Because it wasn’t just about the pajamas or the toothbrush or the sippy cup, it was about this quietly enormous thing happening between us. This... pull.
Daddy.
My Daddy.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it all day while he was doing work with his brothers.
And tonight, he did the same thing, getting me ready for bed like I’m the most precious thing on earth. I climb into bed like he tells me, squirming underneath the covers until I’m settled on the correct side. When he slides in next to me and tugs me into his side instantly, I can’t help but tuck myself as close as humanly possible without climbing on top of him. Not that I would mind, but I don’t want to be too clingy. I press my nose against his chest and sigh, letting the rest of the world fall away.
“You’re my favorite already, Daddy,” I murmur sleepily against his skin, the words slipping out before I can think twice.
His chest vibrates with a low, rough chuckle, and his arm tightens around me. “Good. ’Cause you’re my favorite too, rainbow.”
My heart does a wobbly, fluttery thing I don’t even try to stop.
He shifts slightly, angling so he can look down at me. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asks softly. “Us having a Daddy/Little relationship. Even if it’s just while you’re here?”
I nod without hesitation, my hands tightening in his shirt to anchor myself. “I’ve never felt safer,” I whisper back. “It feels... right.”
His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile too big. And then his mouth brushes the top of my head again, a kiss so gentle it steals the breath from my lungs.
“We’re gonna do this right. I’m gonna take care of you. You’ll have rules, but you’ll have choices, too.”
“I want that.”
He slowly nods. “I’ve got you, baby girl. I’m gonna show you everything you deserve.”
I curl tighter into him, letting him wrap both arms around me like he’s building a fortress out of his body. As I listen to the steady thud of his heart, my eyes drift shut, and for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep smiling.
Because somehow, after all the running and surviving and hiding I’ve done…
I think I might’ve just found my home.
Even if it is just temporary.
* * *
T he soft thud of a hammer and the occasional scrape of wood carry from the other side of the garden as I work. I’m on my knees, gently tucking tiny seeds into place, my fingers caked with dirt and my heart full. The garden beds are already starting to look better. Neater rows, weeded spaces, fresh soil. The air smells like sunshine and earth. It’s perfect.
I glance up and spot Jasper finishing the wooden bench he bought beside the largest garden bed. He gives the final screw a few strong twists, then stands and wipes his hands on a rag before lowering himself onto it.
“Perfect view,” he says, watching me with a satisfied expression.
I smile at him and keep working.
He sits back, relaxed, arms stretched out over the backrest like a king surveying his territory.
Then he focuses his attention on me again. “Come over here a second.”
I pause mid-scoop and peer up at him. “Why?”
He holds up a small tube. “You need more sunblock on your face.”
“I’m fine,” I reply quickly. “I put some on this morning.”
“You’ve been out here for hours. Your cheeks are already turning pink.”
“I’m busy.”
There’s a pause.
Then he shifts forward, elbows on his knees, voice dark with warning. “I’m going to count to three, Little girl. And if you’re not sitting next to me by the time I hit three, I’m going to pull you over my lap and spank your bottom right here on this bench.”
I freeze, heart lurching in my chest.
He wouldn’t.
It’s Jasper.
Shoot.
He would.
The look in his eyes says he absolutely would.
My face goes up in flames. “You wouldn’t dare,” I whisper, horrified.
He just raises a brow and begins. “One.”
I scramble to my feet so fast I nearly trip over the watering can. My hands are still dirty as I rush over to him, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
He chuckles low as I plop down beside him.
“Good girl,” he says softly, uncapping the sunblock.
I shoot him a defiant glare, but don’t say anything that might end up with me over his lap right here in the daylight where anyone could see.
He tilts my chin up gently and smooths the sunblock over my cheeks and nose with careful fingers, his touch soft but sure. His brows are furrowed with focus, and the way he takes his time makes my heart stutter.
“There,” he says quietly, brushing a thumb under my chin. “All protected now.”
I peek up at him through my lashes, no longer pretending to be annoyed with him. “Thanks.”
His hand lingers at my jaw, then slides back to cradle the side of my face. “You look good out here. Like you belong.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “I feel like I do.”
We stay like that for a beat too long—his fingers on my face, mine resting on his thigh, the garden warm and quiet around us.
Then he leans in just a little, just enough to press his lips against my forehead.
“I like sitting with you,” I whisper.
“I like you .”
I smile softly, melting over his words. “I like you, too.”
He beams and brushes his lips over mine. “Not as much as I like you, rainbow. I don’t think you have any idea.”
As he wraps me in his arms for a tight hug, my heart practically beats out of my chest, and I think he’s wrong about that. I think I have a huge idea. Because I might not just like Jasper Black. I might be falling in love with him.