Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
A week later …
“Are you sure about this?” Rock asked Lyla as he sat next to her on the couch.
She was holding her sketchbook. She wasn’t just holding it; she had it plastered to her chest with one arm across it as if it contained all her secrets and she was reluctant to let them go. She nodded. “I’m sure.”
He angled toward her and stroked a hand down her ponytail. “Baby girl, you do not have to show me your sketchbook. It’s like a diary to you. It’s private. I don’t want you to feel obligated to show me anything in it.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I want you to see it. I think you’ll understand me better if you do. But also, I know what I want my first tattoo to be. It’s in here because I sketched it myself. I want you to see it and approve it.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You don’t need my approval for something like that, Little one.” He hated how tense she was, as if she were being forced to do something way out of her comfort zone.
When she lowered the book onto her lap, he pressed a hand over it. “Lyla…”
She lifted her gaze. “It’s okay, really. I mean it. It just makes me feel vulnerable, but I don’t mind being vulnerable in front of you. You’re my man, my partner, my Daddy.”
“Okay, Baby girl,” he whispered.
“I have dozens of books like this, but this is the latest one I’ve been using. It was blank when I first arrived here.”
He watched her closely, noting the shaking of her hands and the way she smoothed her fingers over the cover of the book as if it were her most precious possession. He had no idea what to expect or why she was so nervous.
It was just a sketchbook. The first time he’d seen her sketching, she’d been working on a fruit basket in her basement. He had no idea what was so private about a fruit basket. What other kinds of things did she sketch?
She opened it to the first page and reverently smoothed her hand over the edge.
Rock’s breath hitched as he leaned closer. It was him . In her basement. A younger version of him, sitting on the old couch that used to be down there in front of that hideous, blue-carpeted wall. “When did you do this?” he whispered.
“The night I got here. When I arrived at the house, I wandered around for a while. When I went downstairs and saw that carpeting, my knees nearly buckled. I was transported back in time and ended up sitting on the floor sketching for hours. My memories.”
“I drove by the house that night. I saw the lights on in the basement, but I figured you’d just forgotten to turn them off when you left.” Thank God Carl hadn’t attacked her that night. She’d been alone. Who knew what could have happened?
She turned the page. Another sketch of Rock. He was standing in front of the carpeted wall this time, playing an air guitar.
He chuckled. “That’s amazing. How did you pull that out of your mind?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Even before I came here, I had started thinking about you more. Maybe because I knew I was coming. Maybe it made me feel like I would be close to you. Maybe I hoped I would see you. Maybe I slipped into the past and got trapped. I don’t know. The book before this one looks similar, and I wasn’t even in town yet. I just follow my muse. I sketch whatever comes to mind.”
He was so choked up he could barely breathe. He reached for the book. “May I?”
She released it, letting him hold it in his lap.
He stared at the sketch. He shouldn’t have been surprised by her talent. She’d always been talented. He’d seen some of her work. But the likeness to him from nearly forty years ago was uncanny.
After a few pages, he noticed he looked different. Older. These were sketched after they were reunited. When had she had time? Some were of him. Some were of items, like his bike, his jacket, his boots. His cabin in the woods featured in a few. And then he came to several doodles of his MC logo and variations of it. Finally, he noticed a page of teddy bears. Some of them were worn like the one he’d given her years ago. Some were new, like the second one he’d given her the night they’d reunited. One of the older ones was circled.
“What’s this, Baby girl?”
“My tattoo.”
He lifted his gaze to find her biting her lip.
He cupped her face. “I love it.” He looked back down. The bear was worn, but she’d made it somehow look loved and happy. The bear was wearing a T-shirt, and on the T-shirt was his name: Rock.
A lump in his throat kept him from responding. He stared and stroked the edge of the page, not wanting to mess up her sketch.
“If you don’t like it…” she murmured.
He jerked his gaze to hers. “I love it so much, I’m speechless, Little Lyla. Where are you planning to put the tattoo?”
She shrugged. “I did a bit of research. I think it might be too painful on my boob. Maybe here?” She pointed to her bikini line, low on her hip. No one would ever see it but him.
He set the book on the coffee table and grabbed her around the waist to lift her onto his lap, straddling him. Cupping her face, he said, “Marry me.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” He sat taller.
“You seem shocked I would agree,” she teased, stroking his shoulders.
He shrugged. “You didn’t hesitate.”
“Why would I? You’re the love of my life. I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled her in for a kiss. “When?”
She giggled. “When should we get married?”
“Yes. I was thinking tomorrow.”
She giggled harder. “Okay.”
He grinned wide. “You’d do that?”
She leaned closer to him. “Yes, Daddy.”
He shuddered. He would never get tired of hearing her call him Daddy. He knew it would take time for her to know her Little and settle into a life that included the right balance for them, but she was taking on more and more aspects of age play by the day.
Lyla loved it when he tied her to the chair and fed her. She loved it when he dressed her in naughty lingerie and put adult clothes over it. His favorite was the pink cotton panty and bra set that said Daddy’s Baby Girl on the front. He loved that no one but him knew what she was wearing.
She submitted to him deeply when they were home, letting him bathe her and put sexy Little girl nighties on her. He liked to rock her in the evenings, stroking her hair until she sighed contentedly.
Lyla would probably never be the sort of Little who ran around the clubhouse in a toddler dress with pigtails and ruffled socks, but she was perfect just the way she was, and he adored her.
“Would you rather have a big wedding with your family present?” Jackson had left town several days ago, heading back to New York to wrap up things before he moved to Florida to take over her condo. Nothing could have been tidier.
Rock would take Lyla to Florida as soon as she wanted. They would visit her parents and pick up some of her things, but did she want them at her wedding?
She shook her head. “Nope. I’d rather have something small. Maybe just you and me, Carlee and Atlas, Remi and Kade. We could have a party afterward at the clubhouse?”
“Sounds perfect. When do we tell your parents?”
“We’ll call them and Jackson the next day, after it’s done.” She giggled.
He lifted his brows. “Are you worried they won’t approve?”
“No. I’m worried my mother will insist on something elaborate that I’m not in the mood for. I already did that the first time. I just want something intimate with you. Is that okay?” She flattened her hands on his chest.
“It’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. With the exception of the time you agreed to get on my bike and then let me claim your body in my apartment. That was pretty fucking special.”
She graced him with a slow, sexy smile. “Maybe we should do that again.”
“Which part?”
“Take me for a ride on your bike, and then bring me back here and ravage me.”
He grinned, not hesitating to stand with her all wrapped around him.
She slid to the floor. “You can’t lift me like that, old man. You’ll end up with back problems or some shit.”
He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “As long as I end up with you, I don’t care about anything else.” He kissed her until they were both panting and moaning.
She finally broke the kiss and leaned back. “Daddy…” she whined, her voice adorable. “First, the bike ride; then, the fucking.”
He pinched her butt. “You can’t use Daddy and fucking in the same sentence, naughty girl. Unless you want your bottom spanked.”
She lifted both brows. “Oh, I definitely want my bottom spanked. Can you do that in between?”
He growled and kissed her again. “I can spank you whenever you want, Little girl.”