Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Mikayla
I don’t know what time it was, but Sam was shaking my shoulder and I didn’t want to get up yet. I swatted at his hand until he stopped. “Not yet.”
“Sit up a second, then you can go back to sleep,” he urged.
“Sleep,” I mumbled, snuggling back down to return to dreamland.
“Do you know which thermometer I use on unconscious patients?”
I nearly flew into a seated position. Had he threatened to use a rectal thermometer on me again? Why did that thought have my tummy fluttering? No one had touched me there other than him and the memory brought heat to my face. “What the hell?”
“Whatever it took to get you to sit up.”
Sam shined his penlight into my sleepy eyes again, checked my pulse, blood pressure, and my temperature orally, then set each instrument back on the coffee table. He smirked, which only added to my agitation, though I wasn’t sure why.
“Did you really… before… I mean…?”
“I didn’t use a thermometer on you while you were sleeping, but if you think I care about the location and the route, I don’t.” He shrugged.
The thought of him taking my temperature in that very intimate way made me feel a rush of something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Blinking a few times, I let my heartbeat calm. Everything this man did turned me on. “What time is it?”
“It’s a quarter after five. Why? Do you have someplace to be?”
His attitude grated on my nerves, so I situated myself back on the cushions. “No. I’m fucking tired.”
Sam shot me a look that felt like a reprimand. As he walked into the kitchen he called over his shoulder, “Be thankful you wound up here.”
Sam threatened more than once that I wouldn’t sit down comfortably if I continued to push him. His threat only furthered the niggling thoughts.
Did I want him to punish me?
If I gave into that need, I wouldn’t want to go back to my life in the city. No. I’d stay here forever. Guilt at the way I’d acted panged through me. I went to the bathroom and then padded out to the kitchen.
“I had no right to speak to you the way I did, and I’m sorry,” I said.
“You can make it up to me later.” Sam reached around me to set the coffee machine to brew.
“How?”
He sighed as I stood there, waiting for an answer, then ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know.”
“You make it sound like you want to spank me, as if that will erase all the nonsense I’m tossing at you.”
Sam stared at me for a moment before opening the cabinet nearest to him and setting out two mugs. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been down that road.”
“I don’t want to be punished. Okay? Let’s make that very clear,” I lied. “But I kind of thought you were going to.”
He moved to get the sugar and then the creamer out of the fridge before speaking.
Fixing the coffee for us kept his hands busy and he was likely figuring out how to respond.
His answers were always meted out carefully, just like his punishments used to be.
“Your right eye is twitching, so I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.
But I’ll go ahead and chalk up your brattitude to the accident.
Clean slate, Mickie. If you start poking for a reaction from here on out, then you’ll get one. ”
“A reaction or a spanking?” I couldn’t keep the curl of a smile off my lips and looked down so he wouldn’t see it.
Sam took my chin firmly in his hand and tilted it upwards to catch my gaze. “A spanking, Mickie. Now drink your coffee and get some rest.”
“Why did you stop kissing me last night?” A small prickle of fear at the thought of his rejection ran up my spine. “Am I too childish for someone your age, or do you just not like me?”
“I’ve always liked you. That’s not the issue. You had a suspected head injury.” He let his hand drop from my face. “And don’t start about my age…”
“Then what else is it, huh?” I crossed my arms in front of me to put physical distance between us though it didn’t matter much since my heart was wide open anyway.
Something about the way he easily handled every curveball I threw at him made me mad. Why had he promised a fresh start when I’d been counting the minutes until he had enough of me and flipped me over his knees like he used to? He set my arms at my sides bridging the gap and moving closer to me.
“You’re running on fumes.” Sam trailed one hand down and over my hip resting there as if reminding me of what he’d threatened to do. “We have lots of time to catch up.”
“But you… you’re infuriating!” I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what buttons I could push to spark the match. “It took me a really long time to make a move. You’re standing there like nothing happened!”
“Throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to force me to do anything.” He spun me around, pushing me gently into the living room.
I furiously dug my heels into the hardwood floor, making him bump into me as he clearly wasn’t expecting me to put up such a fight. It was a small push, but enough to make me lose my balance. Sam twisted around as he caught me. I fought back a giggle.
“Mikayla Rose,” he said growling.
“Yes, Sir?”
“You naughty little thing. Calling me Sir will get you spanked faster than you can imagine. Walk your butt to the couch.”
I should have stopped but the yummy tone falling out of Sam’s mouth coupled with his hunky muscular body against mine had me dying to poke harder. “Huh. Well, what happens if I call you Daddy?”
“Try it.”
Well, fuck. I hadn’t expected that answer. A spanking? Sure. A promise? Nope. I kept my hands pressed against his chest and glared. No, him tossing a challenge at my brat wouldn’t do at all. “You’re certainly old enough to be my Daddy,” I said before grinning at him.
“Age has nothing to do with it, brat.” He lifted me into his arms bridal style and brought me back to the couch.
“Then what?” I watched him carefully tuck me into the blanket cocoon I’d messed up earlier when I pushed them off in haste. The wheels seemed to be turning in his beautiful mind. I knew it was more than a title, more than respect, but I wasn’t entirely sure what that would entail.
“What are you asking, babygirl?”
“What’s it got to do with?”
“You’re not uneducated about dynamics. I used to keep you in line with rules and applied a firm hand to your bottom when you broke those rules. Do you remember?” Sam sat on the coffee table.
“Yes, I remember. I didn’t love the way you did it.
I didn’t enjoy spankings and time out, but…
it did help me in ways I can’t explain.” Sighing, I felt like this could be the start of something bigger.
Something that we should have continued but stopped on account of life and neither of us wanting to step outside our comfort zones.
“A Daddy is another role in a dynamic. Sometimes the submissive partner also explores ageplay, but they don’t have to.”
I wouldn’t have tossed the title haphazardly into the mix without already having a deep-seated craving for that exact dynamic. But I’d been too chicken shit to explore it with anyone. Well, that wasn’t quite true. I was afraid of being vulnerable.
“I know what ageplay is, but I don’t think it’s something I want to explore.”
“Do you like being in a younger mindset?”
“Sometimes. Maybe. I don’t know,” I lied. It was easier to keep my vulnerability locked away because my life had no room for it. At least that’s what I told myself.
“Regardless of where we go from here, you need to stop lying to me. If you don’t want to talk about something or it’s too much then you explain that. Do not lie to me again.”
Sam joined me on the couch, pulling my legs onto his lap. I nodded as he gently massaged away the tension there. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve explored some things on my own a bit, but I don’t want that right now.”
“Do you ever find yourself wanting to be very naughty?”
How the heck did he know that?
“Yeah, sometimes I like to brat, even though no one else has ever stepped up to that challenge. Not since you. Is that weird?”
“No, babygirl. It’s not weird. You want to explore boundaries. There’s nothing wrong with finding limits and pushing against boundaries respectfully.”
Sam found a knot in my calf, and gently but firmly released it. I moaned. “Oh, god. Your hands are magical. Mmm. You’d be my Daddy… in the bedroom?”
“Everywhere.”
“That sounds exhausting,” I admitted, my voice soft. It was only because of his gentle ministrations that I quieted my sass otherwise I’d be tossing my brat at him again.
“You let me worry about what I can and can’t handle, all right?”
“So, you really want to be in a relationship? A dynamic?” I had to know what he really thought. The idea of finally getting my needs met scared me to the core. I knew without a doubt that I’d keep pushing until Sam responded.
“One thing that’s been bothering me first. Tell me something, babygirl. Why’d you write me a letter you never gave me a chance to read?”
I tugged my legs off his lap and shifted around so that I could climb into his lap, facing him.
“What do you mean? I put it on your doorknob. I had to let you know how I felt, even though I didn’t say anything in person.
But you never said anything. No, you just hauled me out of the bar over your shoulder like my words meant nothing. ”
“I hadn’t gone home yet that night. By the time I arrived it was ripped to pieces. I thought you changed your mind,” he confessed. “I should have sought confirmation but…”
“Ripped? What do you mean?” Ice pitted in my stomach. “Someone tore my letter so you wouldn’t read it? Then how did you know it was from me?” It raised a lot of questions, and I needed answers.
“I don’t know, babygirl. I taped it back together. I apologize for never seeking any clarification.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “I had a lot going on but that’s an excuse too.”
“So, you did read it? But at my Gran’s funeral you dragged Crystal with you as if it didn’t matter. I almost punched her.” I shook my head. It didn’t matter. Living in our pasts wouldn’t bring us together for the future.