Chapter 1 #2
Sighing, I let my head fall back against the headrest, watching the lights speed past us.
“It’s a long story. And I’m not just saying that to put you off, I promise.
The short version is, the man I’ve been living with the past two years is not a good man and I had to get out before something really bad happened. ”
“Did he hurt you?”
The controlled violence in his voice is oddly soothing.
“Yes. Mostly he was a controlling asshole, but last week I’d finally had enough and I got mouthy with him and he…
” I have to pause and swallow hard to force the words free.
“He backhanded me across the face. And told me good Little girls don’t talk back and he’d had enough of me always being a disrespectful brat. But I’m not.”
My voice cracks at the end of my confession. For reasons I still can’t explain, I’m more upset about being called disrespectful than the actual slap. I can certainly be a brat, but mostly I’m a good girl.
“I know, angel.” Reaching over, he takes my hand in his and squeezes. “You’re a good girl, Mia. He had no right…”
Hearing my own thoughts echoed by the one man who knows me better than anyone on this earth helps to loosen some of the knots in my stomach. And yet, some of the guilt and doubt lingers. “He’s my Daddy. I gave him the right.”
“That man is no fucking Daddy. And if I ever hear you try to justify what he did to you again, I will put you over my knee and paddle your bare ass until I’m convinced you understand what a piece of fucking shit he actually is. Do you understand me, Mia Grace?”
Those knots in my tummy continue to unravel. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Despite his earlier reminder that he has a wife waiting for him at home, Ethan keeps my hand locked in his until he turns the truck onto a steep driveway.
I know I should feel guilty about that, I do, but god it just feels so damn good to be taken care of again.
To feel cherished, the way he used to make me feel once upon a time.
“Sit right there and Da—I’ll come let you out.”
I should feel guilty about that, too. If I were married to Ethan and I heard him calling himself some other Little girl’s Daddy, I’d end up on one of those tv shows about women who go crazy and murder everyone.
And I do feel a little bad as he plucks me from the truck and sets me on my feet before grabbing my duffel bag and leading me into his house. His very large, very nice house. Clearly the contracting business he inherited from his father was doing even better than it had been a decade ago.
All the lights are off and the house is silent when we step inside. The silence is broken only by Ethan’s soft sigh.
“Sloane must have gone to bed already. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
Still gripping my hand, he leads me up the stairs to a closed bedroom door. And when he pushes the door open, I’m not quick enough to smother my gasp.
The room is a Little girl’s dream. A white four poster bed complete with a pale pink canopy sits in the middle of the room.
All the furniture is painted the same bright white that stand out beautifully against the deep rose of the walls.
Several stuffed animals are suspended from a crocheted hammock of sorts in one corner of the room and a gorgeous rocking horse sits beneath them.
“Oh, Ethan… it’s beautiful.” Sighing softly, I step further into the room, running my hand over the fluffy white comforter on the bed.
But even though everything in me wants to squeal with happiness and throw myself on the bed, I hesitate, nibbling nervously at my bottom lip.
“Won’t Sloane be mad I’m in her room, though? ”
Ethan lets out a dismissive snort. “Trust me, Sloane couldn’t possibly care less about this room.”
“But isn’t she your—”
“It’s late, Mia.” His words are clipped, with a note of finality I recognize well. “Let’s get you into your pjs so you can go to bed.”
Ah, fuck. I knew I was forgetting something. “I, um, forgot to pack them. But it’s okay, I can sleep in my clothes.”
Ethan pins me with a stern glare that has me shrinking away from him, my hands automatically moving back to cover my bottom. “Stay here,” he growls, before turning on his heel and striding from the room.
It’s all I can do not to whimper at the throbbing need in my pussy.
Which I do actually feel guilty about because what kind of woman gets this turned on by being bossed around right after fleeing an abusive relationship?
Especially by another woman’s husband? I should be…
Well, I don’t really know what I should be doing or feeling but I’m very certain it’s not this.
I’m still wrestling with those uncomfortable feelings when Ethan returns, holding one of his t-shirts. “Arms up, angel.”
Regardless of the fact that over ten years have passed since the last time he undressed me, my body moves of its own accord to follow his commands.
With almost clinical efficiency, he strips my shirt and jeans from me and pulls his shirt over my head.
Once I’m dressed, he pulls the covers back and helps me into the bed, tucking the comforter tightly around me.
Pausing, he frowns slightly and glances over at the duffel bag laying abandoned in the middle of the room. “Where’s Princess Fluffybottom?”
Fresh tears sting my eyes. “Carl threw her away one day when I was naughty.”
Even in the dim light, I can see the fury blazing in his eyes. “That sonofa…” Closing his eyes, Ethan drags in a breath. “All right. Let’s find you a new friend to sleep with.”
He crosses the room and considers the pile of stuffies in the hammock. “How about a unicorn friend?”
“Okay.”
Plucking a large, fluffy unicorn from the pile, he carries her over to the bed and hands her to me.
“There you go, angel. I’m in the room right next door if you need anything.
There’s a bathroom there”—he points across the room—“but other than that, I expect you to stay in bed until I come get you up. Understood?”
“What if I get hungry? Or need some water?”
He raises a brow in a look I recognize far too well. “If either of those things happen, you can come get me. Otherwise, I expect to find you right where I put you in the morning, or we’re going to have a discussion.”
When I was his Little girl, “a discussion” meant a bare-bottomed spanking. And since he can’t seem to make up his mind about whether he’s going to be spanking me or not while I’m staying with him, it’s probably best not to push him too hard.
“Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“Good girl.” Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my forehead, and my heart shatters at that forbiddenly sweet touch. “Goodnight, angel. Sleep tight. You’re safe now.”
Cradling those words close to my heart, I snuggle beneath the covers.
And sleep.